#let me know if i need to fix the description
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50 Ways To Say Goodbye
911 x fem!reader
5k word count
Summary The 911 helps you escape your abusive ex but in true 118 dumb, dumb stile they create a bigger problem that Athena has to fix.
fluff, idiots
Warnings mention and description of death, domestic abuse and self-harm.
Note: I've been working on the next part of The Dating Oddessey while listening to some music. 50 Ways To Say Goodbye by Train came on and gave me this idea. Didn't quite turn out how I wanted but its still pretty funny. Also you could take this to mean either Eddie or Buck has feelings for you. Not how I intended it but it's how it came out.
...
Today you had finally done it. You had finally worked up the courage to break up with your horrible excuse for a human ex Bradley. You made sure to break up with him while he was working so you had witnesses. The last thing you needed was him gaslighting you back into the relationship like last time. With witnesses, it was harder for him to say the breakup never happened.
Today had been planned out for weeks. Your best friends, Eddie and Buck, had been helping you slowly remove your stuff from his house for the last month and taking it to your Dad's place. You did have much, after all, Bradley didn’t allow you to have much. He had to control everything from the furniture to the decorations and even the food kept in the house.
Outside Bradley's workplace Buck and Eddie were waiting for you in Eddie's truck. Your Dad, Bobby, was their boss and had given them the day off to play bodyguard for you. When you walked out the front door with Bradley storming after you both boys were fast to jump out of the truck and jog towards you. Eddie wasn’t going to let him hurt you anymore and Buck didn’t want what happened to his sister Maddie to happen to you for that reason Eddie had hidden a lot of what Bradley had done to you from all your friends and even your Dad. Eddies had been the house you would hide in for days at a time while waiting for bruises to heal. Eddie had been the person to give you that final push you needed to leave.
“What if next time he kills you y/n? Did you think of that?” Eddie slammed his fist onto his kitchen counter as you held a bag of frozen peas to your soon-to-be black eye. “Do you have any idea what that would do to me? To Chris? Hell, think about your father and Athena. The rest of our friends. We all love you y/n and yet you keep allowing yourself to be treated like shit. You know what if you're going to go back to him this time then I don’t want you in my house, take your things and leave” Eddie had left the kitchen, leaving you standing there shocked to your core. It scared you. More than the beatings. You didn’t want to lose Eddie as your friend, you didn’t want to hurt him or Chris, your family, your friends. Eddie was right enough was enough.
After that night you had come clean with everyone about what was happening. Athena was quick to offer up their spare room for you and Bobby wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eddie and Maddie had to keep Buck distracted at all times until your items were moved out of Bradley's house because he threatened to kill the guy if he laid eyes on him. So when Buck and Eddie saw him coming up fast behind you screaming at you Eddie made sure to direct Buck to get you out of the way. Buck was quick to slide an arm around your waist and guide you quickly to Eddie's truck. Eddie blocked Bradley from coming any closer to you. You couldn’t hear what was said between the two of them but whatever Eddie said had Bradley ducking back into his building quickly. Eddie waited until the building doors closed behind Bradley before walking back to the truck. He didn’t speak once he started the truck nor did he speak for the entire trip to your Dads. His white knuckles gripped the steering wheel the whole drive there. Their conversation was something that had pissed him off. Once at your Dad's, you excused yourself to go lay down. The day had left you physically and mentally exhausted.
“It’s okay baby you go rest, your Dad wants to cook you something special for dinner so I’ll come get you when his home and cooking, okay” Athena gave you a loving smile.
You made your way to the spare room and quickly made yourself comfortable on the bed. As you lay there you could hear Athena talking with Buck and Eddie.
“She’ll be safe here, trust me if that guy comes anywhere near this house he can consider himself arrested” Athena said
“How long does it take for someone like him to just leave a person alone?” Buck asked
“Some give up after a few days, some a few weeks, months, years, some never quit” Athena sighed “But this guy I’d say as soon as he has a new target he’ll leave her alone”
“Athena…” Eddie was cut off by someone banging on the front door. Before anyone could move to open the door what could only be described as a stampede echoed through the house. Heavy boots took staircase steps 2 at a time until the fanfare came to an end in the kitchen where Athena, Eddie and Buck still stood in shock at the interruption. Stood before them in full uniform fresh from a call were Bobby, Chimney, Hen and Ravi.
“What in the world are you lot doing in my kitchen?” Athena asked frustration lacing her voice
“Did you get y/n?” Chimney ignored Athena looking straight at Eddie and Buck
“y/n is trying to rest which she won’t be able to do with you lot acting like a bunch of zoo animals” Athena crossed her arms over her chest looking at them all like a disappointed mother.
“So what's the plan from here how do we keep her ex from intimidating her back into a relationship with him” Hen asked keeping her voice just above a whisper partly to keep from disturbing y/n but mostly to appease Athena.
“Well, to start Maddie and I are going to take her out for the day tomorrow, take her mind off all this” Athena motioned around the room.
“Then starting the day after I’ve adjusted our rosters so someone can be here with her around the clock in case he shows up here” Bobby spoke up
“Unfortunately, someone here invited him over for dinner so he knows exactly where we live” Athena threw an accusatory look at Bobby.
“Maybe she should come to stay with me he has no idea where I live” Eddie offered up.
“No she’s safer here with Athena” Bobby said “Any sign of trouble and Athena can have the entire LAPD on our doorstep” Bobby smiled at Athena.
“A Mumma has to protect her babies” Athena smiled back at Bobby. “And besides, he knows all of us and he will likely stalk all of us to get to her”
“So what are we supposed to do just wait for him to lose interest” Buck spoke up frustrated with the situation “I mean you said it yourself Athena it could take years”
“Or days or weeks or months, the only guaranteed way to get rid of him quick is if y/n died, it’s the only way I’ve seen his type leave their victim alone for good” Athena said. The 118 shared a look, a look of mischief, of a united thought on how to get rid of this threat to their family. Athena knew immediately what they were thinking and quickly began shaking her head and looking between them.
“Don’t you even think about it” Athena pointed a stern finger at each person standing in her kitchen. “You’ll be causing more problems than what you’ll solve”
…
Despite Athena's warning the 118 decided as a family that if ‘the asshole’ as they affectionately dubbed him showed his face to any of them they would warn him to back off and if he wouldn’t listen they would tell him y/n was dead. It seemed like the perfect plan until it wasn’t.
The first person to meet him face to face was Chimney. It was 4 days after Eddie and Buck had taken you to live with Bobby and Athena. It was Eddie's day off. He had taken you out for lunch, then you picked Christopher up from school before heading back to Eddies to hang out. Eddie asked if you wanted to stay for dinner and a movie. Christopher who overheard the offer from where he sat in the dining room doing his homework practically begged you to stay. You called Athena to let her know you were going to be out late with Eddie and that he was going to drive you back when the movie ended. Christopher was old enough after all to stay home alone for the 20 minutes it would take Eddie to drop you home.
Because of this, it was Chimney who got stuck working late at the firehouse. He was the last to leave after finishing off all the small boring end-of-shift jobs like making sure all the dinner dishes were done and the ambulance restocked for the next shift. Bradley had been parked across the road from the station all day watching the team come and go. Your little stunt at his office had cost him his job. He was going to make you pay and he had all the time in the world to make it happen. He waited and counted off your friends as they left. He wanted to make sure that he followed the last person to leave because he knew if he risked following anyone else the rest of your friends would know and his plan would be ruined. He noticed after the first three calls of the shift that one of the guys he had seen you out the front of his office with wasn’t on shift today. He decided it was likely that guy's fault you left him. You’d probably been seeing him behind his back all along. He’d make him pay too. He counted them out one by one as they left the firehouse, first, it was the other guy he’d seen at his office and some Middle Eastern-looking dude. Then that black woman he’d seen you hang out with left. Next was your father. He almost forgot to wait to see him. He wanted to chase him down and run him over with his car but he held it together. He knew there was one more person left. The little Asian guy. When he hadn’t come out after 30 minutes he almost thought he went home earlier and he’d missed him. That was until Chimney walked out of the 118 firehouse almost 45 minutes after his shift had finished. He was talking away on his phone not paying attention to his surroundings creating the perfect situation for a stalker.
He followed Chimney from the firehouse to one of those 24-hour corner stores. He followed him in close behind, waiting until Chimney was alone in the back of the store. As luck would also have it there were no security cameras in sight. While Chimney was distracted looking at the small selection of diapers the store carried, he took his chance. Before Chimney could respond, he had grabbed him by the shoulder and had him pinned against the diaper shelves he was just looking at.
“Where is she?” He asked aggressively.
“Who?” Chimney asked shocked but trying to remain calm. He knew exactly who he wanted.
“Y/n” He held back from yelling in Chimney's face.
“Y/n? You…you mean you haven’t heard?” Chimney tried his best at putting on a distraught face even willing a few tears to fall.
“Heard what?” He loosed his grip on Chimney.
“I’m sorry man, she… she's dead” Chimney said softly trying to lace his voice with sadness.
“What no! What happened?” He aggressively slammed Chimney back against the shelves.
“The night Eddie and Buck picked her up from your place she slit her wrists in Bobby and Athena's bathroom” Chimney made himself sob.
Bradley shook his head in disbelief and ran from the shop. Once out of sight, Chimney let a massive grin break out on his face and he let out a proud chuckle. He grabbed diapers and practically skipped to the counter with them. He was so proud of himself and his lie. He knew if Bradley went looking to see if it was true he would see there had been a call out to Bobby and Athenas that night. It hadn’t been for you thought. Buck being the massive cluts that he is had managed to get his foot stuck in the bin beside the toilet while changing out a light bulb in the sconce above the sink which had stopped working while he was using the toilet. While trying to get the bin off his foot he slipped on the bath mat and fell smacking the back of his head with a loud yet hollow-sounding thunk on the sink, Luckly for Buck he has a thick skull and came out of it with a sore bum, ankle and head and a bruised ego. They still had him taken to the hospital because even though the injuries weren’t that bad he still needed to be cleared of any major head injury before returning to work.
…
2 days later by chance, he ran into Hen. It was her day off and she was about to come pick you up to go out to the movies but first, she had to run some errands. Bobby wanted to have a barbecue at his place to celebrate family and new beginnings. She was grabbing a few things to take with her when he spotted her. She was about to walk into the supermarket when he walked out. Seeing Hen he decided to take the chance to confirm what Chimney had told him. He grabbed Hen who was distracted by the shopping list on her phone and pulled her to the side of the door.
“What do you think you're doing? Get your hands off me!” Hen snapped.
“I’m sorry I just want to talk” He sighed.
“What do you want?” Hen asked crossing her arms over her chest,
“Is it true?” He asked.
“Is what true?” Hen asked.
“Is she dead?”
“I’m afraid so” Hen dropped her head.
“No, no it can’t be” He looked at the ground.
“If it means anything she didn’t suffer” Hen put a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her confused Hen was quick to drop her hand back by her side. “There was nothing anybody could do for her. I can assure you she died the second the car made contact with the semi, she wasn’t even aware of the fire”
“A car accident?” He stumbled backwards. He ran away from Hen and made his way into the parking lot. The groceries he had brought were abandoned on the ground. Hen passed a confused look to the parking lot, shrugged and continued with her day. She knew if he went looking he would find a two-vehicle collision between a truck and a car. Y/n was nowhere near the accident but the 118 had responded to the accident so if he looked it up he wouldn’t be able to accuse them of lying.
…
The very next day Ravi saw Bradley hanging out across the street watching the fire house. Ravi would have run off and grabbed Bobby but he was at home spending time with you. Ravi took a quick look around but couldn’t spot any other members of the 118 to alert. Ravi decided that he was going to have to do something about it himself. He jogged across the road and stood beside Bradley's car. He positioned himself in such a way that if anything should happen anyone watching on in the firehouse would be able to see both Ravi and Bradley in the car. Ravi through a look back at the firehouse and then turned his attention back to Bradley.
“Any reason you're watching the firehouse?” Ravi asked faking a smile trying to pretend that he didn’t know who the man in the car was. “Are you interested in working for the LAFD? I could get you some information if you want to come inside” Ravi motioned towards the firehouse with an outstretched hand.
“Oh no, I was just hoping someone could help me get some information on a friend” Bradley put a fake smile on his face.
“No problem sir if you want to come inside I can set you up in the captain's office and we can all have a couple of officers down to help you” Ravi never once let the smile on his face falter.
“I don’t want to be a bother” If he stepped foot in the firehouse he knew he would be recognised by the other members of the 118. “My friends' name is Y/n Nash I believe you know her, she’s the fire captain's daughter”
“Oh y/n, yeah I knew her, um the captain is actually off today, I guess you’re here for the funeral?” Ravi let his smile drop. He tucked his hands into his pockets, rocked back on his heels and looked at the ground. “I could get you the funeral details if you want”
“No, no it’s fine, when did she die? How did she die? I mean last time I saw her she was healthy, she seemed happy” Bradley knew he was baiting Ravi. He’d already been told two different things. Either your whole team was messing with him or you were messing with them. Either way, he was going to figure it out and track you down. And when he found you he was going to make you pay.
“Uh she…she was involved in a hit and run, Cap had to decide to turn off her life support. The doctors said she had almost no chance of recovery any way” Ravi looked up to the sky knowing if he looked Bradley in the eyes he might break and smile.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, I was just in town and thought I would stop in for a minute but I wouldn’t want to be a burden, pass my condolences on to Bobby” Bradley gave Ravi a small smile and pulled away from the firehouse. When he was out of sight Ravi fist-bumped the air and jogged back into the firehouse. As far as Ravi was concerned that was the last time he thought any of you would hear from him. Bradley on the other hand had only gathered more evidence that the 118 was potentially lying to him.
…
Early the next morning Bradley stalked Eddie to his usual running path. He waited until Eddie was on a particularly quiet portion of the track, hidden from the eyes of the public by bushes and trees. He blocked Eddie's path not allowing him to step around him. Eddie the second he laid eyes on Bradley wanted to punch his lights out but he held his composure. Eddie placed some distance between himself and Bradley before speaking up.
“What the hell do you want?” Eddie said voice laced with anger.
“I just want to know what happened to y/n” Bradley put his hands up in surrender.
“You have no right to ask about her” Eddie snapped “She was so happy until you came along, you broke her down, you isolated her from us, you’re the reason…” Eddie choked on his words. A mixture of real and fake emotions was flowing through Eddie. He was so upset and caught off guard that he almost went off the script. “You’re the reason shes dead”
“Now Edmundo I don’t believe that for a second” Bradley smirked at Eddie
“Look in my eyes and tell me I’m lying” Eddie growled, “I carried her lifeless body out of her parent's house after she blew her brains out with her mother's gun, I begged and pleaded with god and anyone who would listen to bring her back to me, to us.”
“No, no… you're lying!” Bradley yelled backing away from Eddie.
“She killed herself because we wouldn’t let her go back to you, maybe we should have, maybe if we did she’d still be here” Eddie's gaze dropped to the ground. The next thing Eddie heard was the sound of someone running away from him. He looked up to see himself once again alone. A smile broke out on his face as he continued with his run. He couldn’t wait to finish up his run, get home, shower and get to work. The only thing that was going to top this was having dinner with you, Buck and Chris tonight. Bradley on the other hand was not so sure what was going on. He found himself confused. Everything Eddie said seemed so genuine. Maybe Bobby and Eddie had told the rest of the team different things to keep them from knowing what happened. He hadn’t seen you around since that day in the office not even with Eddie and Buck even though he knew you’d always run off to them in the past. Still, he had two more people to ask and he wasn’t going to stop until he got the truth.
…
That afternoon he followed Bobby into a butcher as he looked for the perfect cuts of steak and his favourite burger patties for the weekend during some downtime between calls. He wanted this BBQ to be reminiscent of the BBQs that you had when you were a kid even though, Mum, Robbie and Brook weren’t here anymore and you’d felt like he had tried to replace them with Athena, May and Harry. You’d grown to love them like Bobby did and accepted them as your family. Bobbys plans came to a halt when Bradley grabbed him by the arm and spun him to look at him. Bobby went from shocked to furious in seconds. Bradley could tell immediately that Bobby was not impressed to see him.
“I’m not trying to start anything” Bradley puts his hands up in defence “I just need to know…”
“Need to know what?” Bobby snaps crossing his arms across his chest making himself larger and more intimidating.
“Is she dead?” He asked.
“My daughter? My child who you destroyed so completely that she couldn’t see her self-worth. Yes, she’s dead and it's all your fault” Bobby was now shaking with anger, his arms hung limp at his side and his gaze had met the floor. “I had to scrape her brains off every surface of my guest room, all my children are now gone, I couldn’t save any of them, what kind of father can’t protect his children?” Bobby looked up to where Bradley had been standing to find that he at some point had run off. Bobby looked around the empty store and shrugged. Had he been a little overdramatic sure but he didn’t think he’d been that bad. With a smile plastered on his face, he went back to picking out the steaks for the weekend and hoped that would be the last time he would have to see Bradley.
…
The next morning Buck found himself running late for his shift. Chris insisted on watching a movie with everyone the night before but fell asleep not 15 minutes into the film despite insisting to Eddie that he was not sleepy at all. Eddie carried Chris to bed and decided that since the movie had started you might as well watch it. It was one of your and Chris's favourites. Eddie was sick of watching the movie on repeat and Buck had somehow had the blessing of not being subject to FernGully until now. After the movie, Buck drove you home. This meant he didn’t get home until almost 11 pm and he had to be at the station at 7 am. Bradley had spotted Buck on his drive home and decided to camp out the front of Buck's apartment building for the night. When Buck stumbled out the front door in a rushed mess the next morning Bradley was there to greet him.
“I’m not here to start a fight, I just need answers” He held his hands up in defence.
“What the hell do you need answers for?” If looks could kill Bradley would be dead with how Buck looked at him.
“I just want to know if y/n is dead” Bradley moved further back from Buck out of fear of getting hit.
“Dead” Buck yelled and got so close to Bradley that their chests were almost touching “Why do think it’s any of your business to know what’s happening with y/n?”
“I just heard rumours and wanted to know” Bradley flinched away from Buck.
“You wanted to know? You wanted to know?” Buck looked away and scoffed “Yes she’s dead alright, she killed herself, you have no idea what it’s like to be called out to a scene where someone you love has killed themselves, to see their blood all over and know that nothing you can do will save them. To see them choking on their blood as it spills out of their open throat”
Bradley had gone pale, so pale that Buck thought he was going to faint. For a split moment, Buck felt bad, made be he had been too harsh and taken things too far. Bradley quickly crossed back across the road to his car and took off before any more words could be exchanged. Buck shrugged and quickly made his way to work running even more late now. But that was normal for Buck so he knew no one would question him and he wouldn’t have to tell anyone about running into Bradley.
…
Finally, Saturday rolled around 2 days later. You had been kept busy all morning by Athena who had you help put out her good wine glasses, set the table for lunch, and do other small tasks. Eddie, Christopher and Buck had shown up around 10 am because Chris was too impatient and excited to hang out with his favourite person. You were so distracted with Chris that before you knew it, the rest of the 118 had arrived. Bobby and Buck were manning the BBQ, Chris was off playing with Danny and Mara, Hen, Chimney, Ravi, Karen and Maddie were busy talking among themselves. Athena was busy drifting around the kitchen while Eddie stood outside next to you watching the kids play.
“I’m glad you left him” Eddie broke the silence.
“Me too” You smiled up at him “Thank you for knocking some sense into me”.
“Okay everyone lunch is ready!” Bobby called bringing a tray of meat into the dining room.
Everyone sat around the table. Athena had set the kids up at their table out in the yard which made them think they were the coolest kids ever. She even gave them their plastic wine glasses to drink juice from. You were in the middle of one of the greatest lunches you’d ever had when there was an overly aggressive knock on the door. Before Athena or Bobby could move to answer the door someone yelled through the front door.
“I know you're all in there, I want answers and I want them now!” Bradley screamed through the door.
“What in the world?” Athena looked towards the landing where the front door was.
“What’s he doing here?” Buck looked around the table.
“I guess this means the plan didn’t work” Chimney looked between everyone.
“What plan?” Athena looked at Chimney.
“Uh, well, uh, Bobby do you want to explain it” Chimney looked to Bobby.
“You brought it up” Bobby motioned back to Athena.
“What plan?” Athena stood up, crossed her arms and started tapping her foot.
The 118 shared panicked glances while you, Maddie and Karen looked around the table confused.
“Robert Wade Nash you better start speaking or so help me god you’ll be sleeping at the firehouse tonight” Athena levelled her attention on Bobby.
“We might have told him y/n was dead” Bobby said
“Dead” Athena looked around the table “After I told you not to tell him that you went and did it anyway”
“Well in all fairness Athena I was the one who told him she was dead” Buck admitted looking at his plate.
“You? No, I told him” Chimney jumped in.
“Wait but I told him she was dead like a week ago” Hen added. “Oh god what have we done”
“One at a time, how did you all say she died” Athena asked the table.
“Slit her wrists,” Chimney said
“Hit and Run,” Ravi said
“Car accident,” Hen said
“Shot herself with your gun,” Bobby said
“Slit her throat,” Buck said
“Same as Bobby,” Eddie said
You, Maddie and Karen, were trying to hold it together despite all having a bad case of the giggles. Athena was done with the entire 118 at this point and it was clear from the look on Bobbys face he was already trying to decide who would let him crash on their lounge tonight.
“If you weren’t going to listen couldn’t you all have at least agreed on how she died” Athena sighed.
“I’ll go deal with” Bobby went to stand up.
“No you’ve done enough damage” Athena left the table.
Athena went to open the door while everyone else quietly got up from the table and came to peak around the corner. Bradley was still furiously banging on the door when Athena answered it.
“What do you want?” Athena asked angrily.
“I need the truth, I’ve been told so many different things over the last week,” Bradley said “Tell me the truth and I’ll leave you alone”
“Yes y/n is dead, yes she killed herself with my gun, no we haven’t told everyone, now if you don’t mind we’re currently having her wake” Athena crossed her arms.
“I’m so sorry” Bradley quickly turned on his heels and ran off up the driveway out of sight.
Athena took a deep breath and closed the door.
“When I turn around you all best be at that table eating”
#buddie x reader#bobby nash x reader#athena grant x reader#bobby x athena#evan buckley x reader#eddie diaz x reader#chimney han x reader#Ravi pannikar x reader#911 x reader#118 x reader#hen wilson x reader#911
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I’m going to say something bold: I know who the next ACOTAR books will follow and in what order.
Sarah J Maas told us already. And I have receipts. Not from interviews or old screenshots or interpretations, but actual receipts. From the books.
Starting with A Court of Frost and Starlight’s description on SJM’s site:
We know that ACOFAS bridges the events for the series. And the first novel post ACOFAS is A Court of Silver Flames, which focuses on Nesta and Cassian.
So let’s dive deeper…
THE EVIDENCE
Exhibit 1
In Chapter 2, we have Rhysand’s conversation with Cassian asking a very important question of Cassian: Are you … happy?
Cassian is the first character to be asked if they were happy and gave a response that showed a need for character growth, one that Rhysand observed and wanted to support.
And whose book, along with his love interest, was first in the upcoming novels in the series? Cassian and Nesta’s.
The first character to be asked Are you happy? was the first character to find his happiness in the first spin-off novel.
Exhibit 2
In Chapter 12, the question is again repeated, this time from Feyre to Elain, who asks her sister: Are you—all right?
Elain is now the second character to be asked if they were “happy/all right” and respond in such a way that indicates that no, they aren’t fully all right but they want to try.
Elain’s book will be next as she is the second person to be asked the question by our narrators, Feyre and Rhysand. Who also happen to be SJM's stand-ins for propelling the narrative in ACOFAS.
Exhibit 3
And finally, in Chapter 18, Feyre and Mor are catching up Solstice morning and the subject of Elain and Nesta is discussed:
Feyre wants to “fix everything” for Nesta and Elain aka help them find their happiness (which is later supported by the Feysand’s infamous “let's focus on helping one sister before we start on the other” from their ACOSF Bonus Chapter, but I digress).
But they won't find their happiness in ACOFAS. The sisters must find it in their books, which Nesta did with Cassian in his.
And then for a third and final time, it’s now Mor’s turn to hear the same question, this time from Feyre: And you—are you happy?
Mor isn’t ready to answer honestly. At least, not yet. Because her time will come. In her book. Which will be third.
Which leads me to...
CONCLUSION
SJM gave us the order of the ACOTAR sequel series when she had Feyre and Rhysand ask their closest companions: Are you happy?
And what order were they asked?
Cassian. Then Elain. Then Mor.
And that’s the order we will get our answers. In their books. First, second, then third.
See you soon, Elain Archeron and Mor 🌸❤️
#acotar#elain archeron#pro elain#cassian#nesta archeron#azriel#pro morrigan#feyre archeron#rhysand#a court of thorns and roses#elriel#acosf
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Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)
wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares
Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling
Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon.
But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!
“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.
“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.
Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.
... But not really.
Like, at all.
He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.
Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.
So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.
It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.
It’s just a shirt.
A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.
One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.
It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.
They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.
He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.
The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!
And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.
Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.
The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.
It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.
Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.
He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.
“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.
“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”
He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.
The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.
He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.
“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.
“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”
He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.
And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.
“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.
Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.
He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.
And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.
It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.
It’s perfect.
Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.
Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.
And kissed.
And kissed some more.
Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.
It’s just the he –
“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and –
His eyes blow wide in an instant.
And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.
Steve loves him?
Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.
All because of one perfect t-shirt.
Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.
“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.
He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.
Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.
They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.
Like it is already worn in and loved.
He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.
But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.
“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.
He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.
Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.
He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.
But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.
“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”
“You do?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.
And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.
They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.
“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.
Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.
“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.
He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.
Relaxed.
Loved.
Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.
But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.
It’s good like this.
Calm. Warm.
Soft.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#healing steddie#stranger things s4#lily writes a fic#fluff and angst#cw injury#steddie fanfiction
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dr. feelgood - chapter twelve
pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader
summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss
warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, oral sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, PTSD, choking, angst
word count: 3.7k
a/n: ask and you shall receive! I started doing my final proofing and got tired and decided to post so apologies for any typos, I'll fix them later lol. please enjoy this one and thanks for your patience!
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It took exactly three seconds for Bucky to come to his senses. The gentle click of the door shutting brought him back to reality and he realized he couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t pretend like his heart didn't skip a beat every time she came into the room. That every time she smiled at him, he completely lost his focus. She was all he thought about, day in and day out, even when he was avoiding her. He wanted a future with her. In fact, she was the first woman he'd ever met that he could see a future with. And he had messed it all up.
What hit him suddenly, as she walked out of the house, was that if he let her go, he was just bringing on more trauma. He would never emotionally recover from losing her. He would be stuck with his PTSD night terrors and would always live life wondering what if things were different. One of the lessons he learned in combat is that life is short and precious, and it shouldn’t be wasted.
“I’m such an idiot,” he mumbled to himself. He flew out the front door, hoping he could still catch her before she took off. It was a monsoon outside, with water pouring down in buckets. He caught the headlights of her car flooding the driveway and he darted toward the vehicle without another thought. He didn’t waste time putting shoes on, running outside in just socks. While wet socks were one of his pet peeves in life, at this moment he didn’t care.
He knocked feverishly on her window before she could put the car in reverse. She was initially startled before she rolled down the window.
“What are you-” before she could finish her question, his hand was around her jaw and his lips were caressing hers. This was the last thing she expected, but she didn’t stop him, wondering if this was the last time she’d feel his lips on hers. He was dripping cold rainwater all over her and the seat of her car but she didn’t even care. She leaned into him, savoring the taste of his gin-coated lips.
He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers, stealing the breath from her lips. “I’m not giving up on us,” was all he said.
That gave her the confidence she needed. This time she took the lead, placing both hands around his jaw and pulling him closer to her, smiling in between every delicate kiss.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispered in between kisses and she reacted by holding him tighter and running her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us. I just wanted to protect you.”
She pulled away and nuzzled into his neck, “I know, I know Buck. It’s okay.” Their blissful moment was interrupted by the cheerful barking of a golden retriever. Bucky turned around to find Liberty running around in circles in the pouring down rain, sloshing through the mud.
“Well shit,” he chuckled.
“You leave the front door open?”
“Apparently,” he turned back to Y/N and gave her one more quick peck on the lips. “I better wrangle her up, Will you stay? I’ll meet you inside and we can talk?”
She nodded and laughed while he ran off after Liberty, sliding shoeless in the mud as he attempted to usher the dog back inside. Y/N was already half soaked from Bucky’s drippage so she easily made the decision to cut the engine and run inside. She captured Liberty’s attention as she ran to the front door and the dog darted after her. Once Liberty had followed her inside, she knelt down to give the dog some attention and to keep her inside. Bucky ran inside and shut the front door behind him, sliding ever so slightly on the hardwood floor. Y/N smiled up at him as she stood up and he returned her grin. As if on cue, Liberty shook off the moisture from her fur, completely coating Y/N and Bucky in more rain water and mud. They both started cracking up, laughing at both their disheveled states as the dog simply walked off to her dog bed.
Bucky stepped closer to her and placed his hands on her hips.
“You know, this look is kind of working for me…” he said, narrowing the space between them.
“Oh yeah? You into the swamp monster look?” she bantered.
“More like queen of the swamp,” he said, inching closer to envelope her lips in his. Her arms effortlessly wrapped around his neck and he pulled her in even closer, so her body was flush against his. They were cold and wet and muddy, yet there was no place they’d rather be. Bucky couldn’t believe he almost let this amazing woman slip beneath his fingers. He was savoring everything about her now: her smell, her taste, her touch. But what surprised him the most was how at ease he finally felt. The past few weeks, he’d been so tense. He was worried about Y/N, he wasn’t sleeping, barely eating, and just getting by an hour at a time. Now it was like he could finally breathe again. He didn’t realize what he was missing until he had her back. And now he never wanted to let go.
She started to pull back for a breath, but he wouldn’t let her, verbally expressing his dismay with a hummed “uh-uh.” She smiled and he kept her close, kissing her again and then moving from her lips to her cheek to her neck.
“Bucky,” she giggled. He loved hearing that sound and it just encouraged him more. “We should wash the dog before she spreads more mud around the house.”
“I don’t care about that,” he replied.
“But it’s Steve’ house and-”
“I will deal with Steve’s house later. Right now, I’m not letting go of you.” He moved in close again, seeking the soft touch of her lips. And she had no working defense mechanisms. She sighed into his mouth, loving the feeling of being back together with the man she’d been longing for over the past few weeks. But the logical side of her won over in the end.
She pulled away and Bucky shifted his attention to her jaw, planting kisses up toward her ear.
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal…” she offered.
“Mhm,” he replied, opting not to part from her skin.
“If we take a pause to wash up the dog, then we can pick this up later. In the shower.” Bucky froze considering his options. They’d never shared a shower together and it was something he’d always wanted to do but they’d never had the opportunity.
He let out a deep sigh into her neck, “You’re killing me doll.” She gently scratched the back of his neck and kissed his ear, signaling that their make out session was over for the time being. Bucky walked over toward Liberty and effortlessly picked her up in his strong arms. As he walked toward the bathroom he called out, “You better be helping me with this!” Y/N smiled to herself and eagerly ran after him.
It took all four hands to wrestle Liberty into the tub and that was only the first step. It was fortunate that Bucky and I were already soaking wet from the rain because Liberty showered us in bathwater as she splashed around in the tub. It took us a minute to find a rhythm, with one of us rinsing while the other shampooed. After about thirty minutes, I pulled the drain plug and we pried Liberty out of the tub, wrapping her in a towel. Once she was mostly dried off, we gave her a bone which she happily curled up with in her dog bed.
I leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a quick moment to catch my breath, which didn’t last very long. Bucky approached with a smirk on his face and, without a word, swept me up into his arms.
“Bucky!” I called in surprise.
“Pretty girl,” he countered, awfully pleased with himself.
“What are you doing?” I protested, as he started ascending the staircase.
“We’re getting you cleaned up.” Bucky strode into what I assumed was Steve’s bedroom, and before I could argue, he opened the door to the master bathroom and I was speechless. It was spacious to the point where it could’ve passed for a health spa. There was a giant soaking tub next to a window, with tealight candles lined up on the windowsill. Accompanying the tub was an upholstered ottoman holding a tray of bath salts, luxury oils, scrubbing brushes, and any other things you might need during a soak. In the corner was a beautifully tiled walk-in shower, complete with a rain shower head and a built in ledge that could double as a bench. Along the wall was a long countertop, with two sinks placed in front of the giant framed mirror. Before I could take in anymore, Bucky sat me on the countertop next to the sink, like I was a child and he was tending to a scrape on my knee. He walked over to the closet and pulled out two, lush looking, sage green bath towels, and hung them on the silver towel rack that was placed by the entrance of the shower.
“This is…” I said, looking around the room with wonder.
“I know. Steve takes his self care very seriously,” Bucky joked. He turned the handle in the shower and the water started flowing through onto the beautifully laid tiles, mimicking the sound of the rainforest.
Bucky made his way back over to me and I wondered what his next move would be. I was happy to sit back and enjoy the ride of whatever he had in mind. His face hovered in front of mine, as he placed his hands on the counter, his thumbs so nearly grazing my thighs. I studied his face, waiting for him to lean in and kiss me again, so that we could pick up where we left off. Instead, he planted a chaste kiss on my cheek and exited my personal space. His right hand found its way to my thigh and he slowly slid it all the way down my leg, until he was gripping my ankle. He extended my leg and brought my foot up towards his mouth, using his teeth to nip the top of my sock and carefully pull it off my foot. He planted a sweet kiss on my big toe and then repeated the process with my other foot.
Then he moved to my hands, removing the rings and bracelets I had on and placing them carefully in a small bowl on the counter. His slow, calculated movements were turning me on more than I thought they would. As much as I needed to have him, I wasn’t going to rush through this. He removed my earrings, giving one of my earlobes a playful nip, before he pulled off my blouse, planting kisses from my collarbone down to my navel. He came back up to my eye level, but his fingers were already working on the button of my jeans.
“I might need your help with this one,” he said, as he pulled down my zipper. I leaned back onto the counter and lifted my hips, allowing Bucky to pull at the waistband and slide the jeans off my legs. I sat back upright while Bucky kissed his way up my legs, taking a little extra time when he reached my inner thighs. I could see the hunger in his eyes and I knew that this teasing must be killing him, but it would all be worth it. His mouth found my bra strap and took it in his teeth as he lifted up slowly and released it so it snapped back onto my skin. His hands worked their way up my love handles and met at the clasp of my bra.
“Ah ah ah…” I chided, shaking my head before he could continue. He gave me a confused look and I merely pulled at the hem of his shirt, “You are fairly overdressed.” He let me pull the shirt up and over his head and I tossed it across the room. He leaned back in, continuing where I stopped him but I simply shook my head again. I pulled the drawstring of his sweatpants loose and tucked my fingers into the waistband and he effortlessly wiggled out of the material, leaving him stripped down to my level, clad only in his boxer briefs.
“Happy now?” he asked, with a tilt of his head.
“Almost,” I smiled mischievously. He slowly closed his eyes and sent me a toothless smile, knowing what I was getting at. When he opened his eyes back up they locked onto mine like a wolf stalking its prey. It sent a chill down my spine and all I wanted was to feel his hands on me again. He placed two thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and easily pulled them down, stepping out of them and closer towards me.
“You have some catching up to do,” he growled. I smiled as he kissed me, this time with urgency. His hands were behind my back unclasping my bra with ease and it fell to the floor. He started kissing my neck as his hands ventured south and rested on my hips. It didn’t take him long to pull at my thong, and I raised my right hip up to aid him, and he happily accepted the help.
I felt a bit of a breeze and shivered briefly, as my nipples hardened slightly due to the cool air and Bucky’s fingertips. He noticed my momentary shudder and grinned into the kiss.
“Why don’t I warm you up a little,” he suggested, sweetly kissing my jaw before shifting his attention to my pert nipples. He took each one carefully into his mouth, giving them just enough attention and then continued on his journey, eventually kneeling on the ground. I hadn’t realized that’s what he meant, but I wasn’t going to complain. He gently pulled on my legs as a signal for me to come closer which I did. He ran his tongue up my sopping wet pussy to my clit and ran circles around the sensitive bud. My head fell back instinctively, missing the feel of his touch. He dove right into my folds, exploring with his tongue and forcing labored breaths out of me.
“Bucky…” I called, running my fingers through his hair in an attempt to pull him back towards me. He took that as encouragement and increased his efforts, shooting his eyes up to watch my reaction. I let out a soft moan and pulled on his hair harder, which he seemed to enjoy.
“Bucky, stop,” I softly commanded. He immediately stopped and pulled back, looking up to see if everything was okay. “I can’t wait anymore. I need you inside of me.”
He acted quickly, standing and collecting me off the counter with ease, and carrying me into the immaculate shower. The minute we stepped under the water, his lips were back on mine and I tightened my grip on his neck, pulling him as close to me as possible. My legs were wrapped around his torso and his strong hands were cradling my lower back.
“God, I missed you so much,” he whispered into my neck.
“Show me,” I challenged, feeling bolder. Bucky reacted immediately, pressing me into the cold tiles of the shower. I let out an exhale and he took that as encouragement. He expertly shifted my position so that he had a better angle to my entrance, all while keeping me secure. And then he thrusted into me and I almost came on the spot. A moan escaped my lips and Bucky picked up his pace, grunting into my neck.
“Fuck baby,” I let out, knowing I wouldn’t last much longer.
“This one might be quick, but I’ll make it up to you.”
“I don’t care, you feel so good inside of me.” He gave me a quick love bite on my shoulder and then gently returned me to the ground.
“Turn around,” he commanded, caressing my hips with his fingertips. I placed my hands on the shower tiles and bent forward as he pulled my hips toward him.
“You know me too well,” I smiled.
“Of course I know how my girl likes it.” He didn’t give me a warning when he entered me and I let out a squeal of pleasure. He gave my ass a smack before clutching my hips tighter and increasing his rhythm.
“You’re so wet for me, pretty girl. I’ve missed your tight little cunt.” He thrust in deeply and paused, wrapping his hand around my front to play with my clit.
“Ohhhhh…” He was pushing my every button and I was nearing my climax.
“Those noises are driving me wild…” He picked up his pace again and I let out another moan. “Now be a good girl and cum for me.” That was all it took to trigger my orgasm. My back arched and I leaned further into the tile to stabilize myself while Bucky’s hands kept his strong hold on me. It all seemed to happen so quickly, as I panted and tried to bring myself back down to earth.
“Wow…” I breathed through my satisfied smile.
“I second that.” He slowly retracted and took my hand. “C’mere.” He pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around my waist. I locked my arms around his neck and smiled up at him as he planted a few sweet kisses on my lips.
“That was amazing,” he said, connecting his forehead to mine.
“I know, we’re pretty good at that.”
“And we keep getting better.”
“You think it’s because we’re in love now?” I suggested.
“It has to be that,” he said, kissing my nose. “Also, I didn’t pull out. I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment.”
“It’s okay, I’m on the pill so we should be fine.”
“I won’t do that without checking with you ever again.”
I placed a hand on his cheek and said, “I said it’s fine.”
“I know, but I still should’ve asked your permission.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Now can we get clean and spend the rest of the night cuddling?”
“We can do whatever you would like my dear.”
Once we finished up in the shower and dried off, Bucky lent me the T-shirt he packed and he put on a pair of sweatpants. We curled up together on the couch and turned on a rerun of Bar Rescue.
I rested my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me and kissed my temple.
“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”
I tilted my head so that I was looking at him, “Happy.”
“That’s what I love to hear.”
“All because of you,” I smiled.
“Ah, can I bring something up at the risk of ruining the moment.”
“I don’t think anything could ruin this night for me. Unless you break up with me.”
“Well I’m never doing that. But I do think we should talk about that night.”
“Oh. Okay,” I shifted so that I was facing him, giving him my undivided attention. He collected my hands and held them tight in his.
“I know you said you pulled me out of the nightmare, but I don’t want to put you in that position again. It might not work next time. So I’m going to start up therapy again. It did help me a lot before and I only stopped going when I thought I had things under control. But I think it might be more of a lifelong thing.”
I nodded, “I think that’ll be really good for you.”
“It’s really hard for me to ask for help, but I do think it’ll make things better.”
“And I’m happy to go slow as we figure everything out. I want to make sure you feel comfortable with things.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to go slow. I’ve finally got you where I want you. But I can’t let that happen again.”
“We’ll ease back in. No sleepovers for a few weeks.”
“Well I’m not agreeing to that,” he smirked.
“What!?”
“I want to fall asleep next to you every night.”
“Yeah but-” I started to protest.
“I think we can start with staying at your house. It’s not my space and I don’t think I sleep as deeply because it's a different environment than I’m used to. Plus I’ve stayed over your place a handful of times and never had any issues.”
“Are you sure?’
“Positive,” he stated.
“Okay, we can start there and see how it goes.”
“I still want to have a back-up plan for you though. Maybe stash an air horn or something by the bed just in case. I’ll come up with something.”
I chuckled lightly, “I don’t think an air horn is going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Do you want to know what I did the first time?”
“I am curious actually.”
“First, I placed my hand on your cheek,” I announced as I demonstrated. “Then I slowly pulled you in closer,” He moved with my hand until his forehead was pressed against mine. “And then I did this,” I gently brushed my lips against his and he sat there stunned.
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he commented with a small smile on his face.
“I thought if I fought back you would only push harder but that affection might confuse you.”
“And it worked.”
“It didn’t really confuse you, though. It sort of…calmed you. You curled into me and fell back asleep.”
Bucky looked a little stunned as he considered this, “Smart. That was very quick thinking.”
“That’s why I’m in trauma.”
“I’ll give you that. But I still want some sort of back up plan in place.”
“Well I will let you think on that and come up with a plan because you probably know better than I do on this matter.”
“I can do that. So until we have a back up plan, no more sleepovers.”
“That’s fair.”
“Tonight I’ll let you sleep in Steve’s room with Liberty and I’ll take the guest bedroom.”
She wanted to protest, badly, because she couldn’t imagine leaving his vicinity. But she chose to respect his wishes. For now, she nuzzled into Bucky’s shoulder and entangled her legs with his, enjoying every second of being in his presence.
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Guilty As Sin? [ZCL] (M) Fic Teaser
Description: Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin?
(based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)
Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst
Content Warnings: Smutty smutness, use of the word 'slut' in a couple different instances, uhhh self...help lol, explicit, rough, unprotected sex, and I think that's it for now *MDNI*
Expected Word Count: 5-8k (this is so subject to change lol)
Release Date: 8pm EST 2024.5.10
Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you want to be tagged when this comes out <3
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (features roommate!Renjun, Mark, Jaemin, aespa Karina!)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
Lips brush against your neck and trail up to your ear, and you feel his smile before you hear his chuckle. His hand grips your thigh, but as he pulls back, his eyes travel along your face. His irises have gone dark, and he gulps. The room is far hotter than it should be, and as you sit next to Chenle on your couch, his fingertip traces a single word on your skin, over and over again.
MINE
MINE
MINE
MINE
“(Y/N), are you listening?” Chenle’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and hopefully nobody notices how your stare was stuck on the way he taps his fingers on his jeans. Your face heats up, but you try your best to hide it.
“What? Sorry, tired today.” You sit back in your chair, glancing around the room to see your roommate, Renjun, and several of your other friends sitting on the various seats around your living area.
“You don’t look tired.” Karina raises her eyebrow at you.
You glare back at her. “How do you want me to fix that?”
“Chenle was asking us if we wanted to go to a party next week,” Jisung adds. “A friend of his we don’t know is turning twenty-three.”
“Uh, sure. I’ll be right back.” You launch up, heading for the kitchen. Before you turn fully, you make eye contact with Chenle. He leans back on the couch cushion, legs crossed, and head tilted. He’s dressed so simply, sweatpants and a dark, loose-fit T-shirt, but you could ignore those things for your own sanity.
What you can’t ignore?
The quirk of his eyebrow. Did you just imagine the way he looked you up and down? Every inch of your skin feels hot, and you think of those fucking fingers on your thigh all over again.
Before you embarrass yourself any further, you quickly move towards the kitchen, throwing the door of the refrigerator open to grab a water bottle. You set it on the counter after inhaling half of it, and then brace your palms on the edge, too. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. You’re not sure why you can’t stop fucking thinking about it.
His hips slam into yours while his hand covers your mouth to keep you quiet. Your eyes roll back in pleasure. No matter what, you’re lost in the feeling of him inside you, the sweet stretch and how his jaw is clenched hard to keep his own noises at bay. You want to feel him everywhere, to truly lose yourself in the moment.
You wrap your legs around his waist to get him closer, and he curses a little louder than he should—
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct dream smut#nct imagines#nct smut#chenle smut#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct angst#chenle fluff#chenle scenarios#chenle x reader#nct x reader#nct dream x reader
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Have a happy fucked up fiddleford friday (eve) !!!
[ID: Fiddleford McGucket dressed in a robe looking vaguely dishelved with the phrase “what is seen will be unseen” with several laughing emojis accompanying the text. ED.]
#fiddleford mcgucket#gravity falls#old man mcgucket#my art#please let me know if I need to fix the image description at all#I am not super familar with how it is structured#tried looking up online but couldn’t find anything reliable enough to me
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hey so,,,, another Do'vanna for you, don't worry about it
couldn't decide on if i should keep the background so i did both
i worked too hard on it to just scrap it completely....
#swtor#swtor oc#twi'lek oc#twi'lek#sith sorcerer#do'vanna oc#trying out image descriptions#let me know if i need to fix it at all
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First post!!! I’ve already posted this on Insta but I really like it so I’ll put it here too :-)
[ Image description: two drawings of the ‘Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls’ characters with their original designs. The first image had fully colored head-shots of thirteen of the characters: Milky Way, all of the main planets, the sun and moon, and the dwarf planets. All of them are smiling except for Uranus, the moon, Eris, and Ceres. The second image shows three separate sketches of the characters, including Sun standing with her hands on her hips and smiling, Venus smelling a rose with her eyes closed and a calm expression, and a side-by-side doodle of Jupiter (who’s labeled ‘the tallest. Seven foot one’) and Milky Way (who’s only five feet tall) glancing up at Jupiter with wide eyes. End description. ]
#my art#art#Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls#Fanart#Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls fanart#i Hope the image description was good!! if I need to fix anything let me know and I happily will
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idk if anybody else is getting this but there’s this ad about mary turner featuring a woman being lynched. the top of the ad looks like this.
[image description: top line reads “Sponsored by WordAds” followed by the name “Mary Turner” in large title font. main body of the ad reads “Was a black woman whose husband was a victim of an American hate party Which …” / end image description]
i don’t really know what else to say i hope nobody else has to see this ad.
#accidentally left a typo in the image description sorry i was typing fast but i fixed it now#please let me know if this needs to be tagged or if additional info can be added
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school shootings were always my biggest fear as a student and now I still fear them as a teacher
#what could I say about this that I didn’t already say after parkland?#after sandy hook? after virginia tech? after columbine?#after the millions of other school shootings that didn’t get media coverage cause the death toll didn’t break a record#that’s the part that’s getting me#nowadays a shooting where only 2-3 victims doesn’t get any media coverage#but in any other country in the world this would spark national outrage BECAUSE ANYONE DYING IN SCHOOL IS NOT NORMAL!!!#but noooo in this country (ONLY country in the world where this regularly happens) there’s no way to prevent it#like are you american exceptionalists proud? we’re the school shooting capital of the world how amazing#all because we refuse to ban guns the blatantly obvious solution that has worked out for everyone else#fuck you and your second amendment rights we do not need to adhere to these dumb ass founders beliefs#what society adheres to rules from 300 years ago that were written by some of the most evil men in history they didn’t know SHIT#and anyways they themselves said that it needs to be well regulated but of course that part is ignored#dumbass politicians coming up with anything to ‘fix’ the problem besides banning automatic weapons#TED CRUZ IS SAYING DOORS ARE THE PROBLEM AND THAT THERE SHOULD ONLY BE ONE DOOR?? MF THAT IS A FIRE HAZARD#and they’re saying we need armed security as if the USELESS POLICE DID ANYTHING TO SAVE THOSE KIDS#‘only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy’ oh really? and what happens when that good guy also gets shot like in Buffalo?#and saying we need to secure schools like they’re prisons cause a metal detector is gonna stop a psycho with the intention to kill#all this security will just make Black kids kids with special needs kids of color and so many more feel even more unsafe#and let’s not forget the stupidest idea of them all ARMING TEACHERS????#teachers don’t get paid enough nor is it in their job description to KILL SCHOOL SHOOTERS#THAT IS THE POLICE’S JOB NOT OURS??? and this puts so many kids at risk too and teachers shouldn’t have to sacrifice themselves??#we can’t even get our lesson plans to go the way we planned them AND YOU WANT TO PUT A GUN IN A CLASSROOM?#i hate that the kids teachers and parents did more to protect each other than the people that get 40% of the city’s budget#all cause they were ‘scared’ well maybe you’re in the wrong line of work you coward pigs#and let me get started on the fact that we have an epidemic of murderous young boys that we have been ignoring since columbine#all of these shootings were committed by young adult men with incel white supremacist nazi ideologies#but sure let’s act like they did this because of bullying SHUT UP#men are literally the problem. like we need to be monitoring boys more instead of micromanaging our daughters#cause look at what kind of monsters they become#all of these violent video games and chat rooms where the most vile things are said is literally a pipeline to becoming an incel nazi
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i'm going to be going back thru my own post (not reblogs) and adding alt text to any images/gifs
i hadn't done this before cus i didn't know how to really (both in a sense of doing it well and how to do so on this site), but i'm going to try my hand it at it
i reiterate, only my own post for now as i'm just beginning to add alt text so i don't want to add poorly made alt text to another person's post by accident
#pls let me know if any of my alt text that i add need any fixing or anything#accessibility#alt text#image description#text post#happy chatter#i won't get to them all tonight becus its 1am for me but i'll update this once i'm done
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Best I Ever Had
Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k
Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!
A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)
masterlist | updates blog
It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town.
Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason.
He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you.
You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction.
And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it.
You are worth it.
Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.”
And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you.
“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge.
He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?”
“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up.
“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you.
You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of.
“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.
Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you.
The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts.
And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements.
“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter.
“I said—”
He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm.
“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you.
Well, apparently not everyone.
You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.
You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back.
The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips.
Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him.
You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines.
You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him.
The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life.
Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.”
He scrambles without looking back.
“Oh my God, baby.”
“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”
“Just one more second, baby.”
“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you.
“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”
“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take.
A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now.
“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom.
Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming.
You can do so much better than that.
“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless.
Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself.
Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking.
“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”
All questions must be answered.
Fuck.
“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you.
You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?”
Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics.
You quirk your eyebrow at him.
“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure.
You’re silent for a beat. Then—
“You’re lying.”
Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries.
Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here.
You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.
“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”
Joel audibly gulps.
Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it.
“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him.
“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to.
You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout.
“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him.
“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you.
Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”
You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming.
You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze.
“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”
“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again.
Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend.
“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”
His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces.
Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest.
“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.
“Did I go too far?”
He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.
“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”
A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”
“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss.
You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks.
Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?”
“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”
I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)
#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#one shot#fic#smut fic#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism
Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader
When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before
He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it
Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze
Mmmmmm glazed hearts
Great now he's hungry
ANYWAYS-
Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside
Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him
"Mm...good morning my dear..."
Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel
You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown
You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting
You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes
Just. No.
Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath
"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."
How can he say no to you?
He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair
The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌
He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT
Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping
WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN
Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo
You're so good to him how did you know he needed this
Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering
He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat
Though he pretends it's a big hassle
He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him
Bby boy that's all you do is think about him
He locks the door on your way out tho
Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child
You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you
"Alastor..."
Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice
When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you
He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for
"Look at me, darling~"
Okay maybe just a quick glance-
Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-
Ffffffffuck.
Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes
Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek
Not his tail fluttering
"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."
And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell
Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him
Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too
But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came
He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic
Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-
If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down
Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears
Wakes up drooling
Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent
How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????
Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??
When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone
The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways
The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him
You spoil him
Alastor thinking of his wife:
#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#alastor being whipped!! Yes#wifey being whipped!!! YES#The deer himself getting spoiled??#YES#does he deserve it???#...no...#do we want it????#??#y-yes?
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Ok, so, what about the 141 and König reacting to their s/o not feeling confident abt taking their shirt off during seggs because they are chubby and feel embarrassed about their belly?
Also not feeling confident with getting touched around that area while sleeping/seggs/daily life.
first of all i'm so so so sO SORRY that this took so fucking long (this ask is literally from february 😭) i had this in my drafts for fucking ever and just now found the inspo to finish it:(((((
CHARACTERS : price, ghost, soap, könig
WARNINGS : NSFW, MDNI, female!reader, this is for all my thick girlies <3, talk of body image, insecurities, descriptive mentions of sex, fluff, supportive bfs, not proofread
WORD COUNT: 2,8k
john price
he's a confused puppy when you first push his hand away from your belly while you guys were cuddling and he rushes to apologize, before noticing how you avoid his gaze nervously and he decides to hold his tongue.
Did he make you uncomfortable? Was it the way he touched you? He got so embarrassed that his ears turned red, deciding to not speak at all.
few days after that he startles you by hugging you from behind, caging you in his arms tightly, and pulling your body flush to his, humming lowly as he pressed kisses to the side of your neck. You try really hard to not look at him as you squirm away from his prying hands, choking out a lame excuse and bolting the other way.
Now he was confused and concerned. He surely fucked up somehow.
This man is so touch starved that it's painful. You don't understand how physical Price is, he needs to hold you, touch and kiss you. He needs to feel close to you and if that gets taken away from him he can't function fr
"Love, if there's summat bothering you... if I made you uncomfortable in any way, I'm-" you cut Price off with furrowed eyebrows, taking his hands in yours and he inhales sharply when you squeeze his hands slightly "No-what? John, what are you talking about?"
There's frustration piling up, and he clenches his jaw looking down at your hands holding his, tenderly. He missed your touch so much. "M gonna be really blunt with ya love, cause I'm hangin' by a thread here.." you lean closer to him as you nod, and he swallows harshly.
"Why.. why don't you let me touch you anymore?" John almost whines, and you gape at him, suddenly at a loss of words. "Tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it, please just talk to me honey" he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, and you almost burst into tears as you catch the redness in his pretty blue eyes.
God, you felt terrible. Yes, you were avoiding Price, but it wasn't his fault at all. The fact that by giving him the cold shoulder because you weren't feeling too good about yourself, brought his own insecurities to the surface made your heart fall to the pit of your stomach.
"You did nothing wrong baby, I'm sorry. I haven't been feeling very.. confident in my skin lately." you said and looked down at the top of your shoes, shifting on your feet nervously. You didn't have to look at Price to know that he was looking at you with those puppy eyes of his.
"Love... I have no words.. I- why?"
Your eyebrows twitched. Why?
His hand came up to grab at your chin softly, nudging it up so you'd look at him. You felt that familiar stinging in your eyes and you blinked away the tears, clearing your throat hurriedly.
His question made your mind go blank. Why the fuck did you feel that way? "I- I don't know... I'm sorry."
"Hey, no honey, don't apologize," he cooed, nudging your temple with his cheek as he lays a kiss against your hair. "Never apologize for what you feel, ya hear?" you smile despite yourself, and nod slightly, wrapping your hands around his middle and burying your face in his neck, his hands in turn coming to rest on your waist softly.
"M just having trouble wrapping my head 'round it 'cause you're God damn perfect, honey. It breaks me that you doubt that." if John can hear how fast your heart's beating he doesn't say anything. He's too busy blinking away his own tears.
Listening to him mutter praises and sweet nothings against your ear made you realize that you should have talked to him about this earlier- cause you'd have experienced price absolutely WORSHIPPING you much much sooner<3
(sorry if this is too sappy)
simon 'ghost' riley
ghost is someone who's fighting his own demons, and that doesn't change when you guys start a relationship together
so whether you're just now starting dating and you're avoiding being touched while hugging/cuddling/sex or if you'd been in a relationship for quite some time and you suddenly change how you act with him because of that- he'll blame himself.
you best belieeeve he'll think there's something wrong with him, that somehow he did something and you finally realized that maybe he's not good enough for you- that you deserve better (yeah his whole fuckin' list of insecurities come up bro)
Everytime you'd reject his advances, even for something as small as a hug, he felt as if someone threw ice cold water down his back
so after a while he'd just stop trying fr
he'd avoid you in turn, become distant and cold
that understandably made you very upset
so now you're BOTH SAD
It was sheer luck that you managed to catch Simon just as he was leaving the kitchen, and you felt relief wash over you as you spotted him washing his mug, ready to put it away. His name left your lips before you realized it, but it went unnoticed apparently. You clenched your jaw as you watched him walk to the door, and you quickly realized that you were at your breaking point.
"Could you just wait a fucking second?"
His broad shoulders tensed as he stopped, throwing a look over his shoulder "Huh?"
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"Excuse me?!" Simon huffed out a dry laugh, whirling around to look at you, his brows drawn together. Guess he wasn't coping well either. "Why have I been avo- are you fucking kidding me?"
You shrugged, "Yeah maybe 'avoiding' isn't the right word. 'Ignoring' or acting like I'm fucking dead maybe? You planning to kill me or something? Practicing your acting skills beforehand?"
Okay yeah you were exaggerating, but who could blame you? Your boyfriend suddenly starts acting like you don't exist, what else are you supposed to think?
Ghost snarls, and strides over to you, pointing his finger at you accusingly, "Listen- if you don't want to be with me anymore, just fucking say that. Don't ignore me for weeks, and then turn that shit on me. Just say we're done and be over with it."
What the fuck?
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
He groans, hand coming up to rub at the back of his head nervously "Don't act so clueless as if you haven't rejected me each time I came even remotely close to touching you- If you're so disgusted by me, then maybe don't ask me out in the first place."
"What? No, Simon-"
"Don't. I get it."
"No, you don't get it I...fuck. Okay, yes i've been avoiding you but not because I'm disgusted by you, don't ever say that again. I've just been.. embarassed, I guess."
Now it was his turn to look at you like you've gone insane, "What for?"
"..I don't know, I mean I.. I can't help but compare myself to you- you're so.. muscle-y, and I'm just.."
"You're just what." you shiver at his authorative tone, avoiding his gaze at all costs.
"I'm.." you trail off, your hands instinctively circling around your torso, and his eyes drop down to follow the movement, his eyebrows furrowing, eyes darkening, "Y'know what nevermind. I'm sorry I've been acti-"
You snap your eyes up at the sound of his loud steps, thinking that he left the room, only to find that he was standing right in front of you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek while the other falls atop your forearm. "You scared me. I thought I lost you and you were just being dumb this whole time?"
You gape at him, slightly offended by his choice of words, "Hey-"
"You're stunning." your breath hitches at his whisper, looking up at him reluctantly, almost bursting to tears at the way he's looking at you-
"Beautiful. Prettiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on, you hear?" his other hand comes up to rest on your other cheek, cradling your face in his palms, squishing them that you're almost pouting from it-
He nudges his nose against your own, thumb tapping your bottom lip once, "Did you hear what I said?"
You swallow harshly, unable to look away from his pretty eyes, "Yes,"
"Good. You're everything to me."
johnny 'soap' mactavish
he is downright offended when he finds out let me tell you
even after how he hypes you up daily? GURL GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER YOU'RE PERFECT AS FU- okay yeah he can't yell you THAT but, he sure as hell will drill it into your brain if he has to
soap never shies away from any physical contact he can give you, whatever the time or place. he will slap, squeeze and grope to his heart's content, he's quick with it of course (don't wanna get caught now, do we?)
okay I'm getting off topic
the first and second time you had sex together, it was quick and rushed, he'd pulled you to the side and fucked you open against a wall, clothes on and all.
the third time he makes sure he treats you right, meaning he makes sure there's a bed involved LMFAO
so imagine his surprise when he turns around, butt ass naked in his room and ready to tackle you on the bed, to see that you were still wearing your shirt on.
...okay?
he's confused but doesn't question you, he thinks he'll just rip it off of you later himself
he shrugs it off like a champ, and strides over to you with a shit eating grin, walking you backwards till you fall on the bed with a soft thud. You smile back at him, but not fully. Not really. That makes his eye twitch. Something was off.
five minutes later he's holding himself upright with a palm beside your head, swallowing dryly as he stares at you with an open mouth and hazy eyes, thrusting inside of you with no promise to stop.
his eyes drop lower, and he catches sight of your nipples poking through your cotton shirt and he groans- sliding his hand under the material to bring it over your breasts and you tense suddenly, pushing his chest till he's shoved to the side, and he watches with wide eyes and a hard cock as you scramble to pull your shirt in place, chest heaving when you steal a nervous glance at him
"I-I'm sorry, can I keep this on?" your voice almost breaks when you speak and Soap is really fucking confused. "Are you cold?" his question catches you off guard and you look at him as if he's grown a second head, closing your eyes shut as he continues to speak, "I can close the window-"
"I'm not cold."
"Ah."
.
.
"Then...?" Johnny trails off and you let out a defeated sigh, "I don't want you to see me." he blinks at your hiss and you bring your knees up, hugging them close to your chest and he thinks he deserves an award for not even glancing at what he knows would be the perfect view of your glistening pussy- Get your fucking act together Johnny, ya fuckin' prick.
Soap seems to be deep in thought for a couple of seconds before his mouth parts in realization. He internally curses himself for even going there, but when he sees you shrinking to yourself, clutching your legs tighter against you, he feels sick. There's no fucking way you felt that way.
"You gotta be joking, hen." his whisper was almost pleading and you felt your chin wobble slightly and he tuts, scooting closer to you to lay a hand on your shoulder, "You can't possibly not know how perfect you are." you scoff out a laugh as you shake your head.
"I'm serious. I can't even begin to imagine why you'd even feel that way. What the fuck do you have to hide? Your stunning beauty? C'mon now." he tilts his head to try and catch your gaze but you avoid him like the plague and he shakes your shoulder back and forth playfully, successfully pulling a small laugh out of you. He decides to ignore the few stray tears that fall down your cheeks to stop his heart from breaking.
He cups your cheek softly and tilts your head up, finally making you look at him "Did someone say something? I need a target to practice on anyway-" you shake your head softly as you sniff and he licks his lips as he drops his forehead on yours,
"You trust me, right?" you nod instantly, and he mutters an okay, "And you know I'd never lie to you?" you hesitate, but nod regardless and he presses a kiss to your wet cheek, "Show me,"
You inhale sharply, and you're shivering before you even realize that you've taken your shirt off- your hands coming up to shield your breasts, as if you're not naked from the waist-down.
A chill runs down your spine as you wait, and when you hear Soap let out a shuddering breath your gaze snaps up to him. You're surprised to see the utter adoration in his eyes- looking at you as if you'd hanged the moon and stars.
His fingers shake slightly when his hands come to rest on top of yours, his eyes holding an unspoken question. Can I?
You swallow dryly, bringing your hands up to your face instead, hiding your flushed cheeks in the safety of your palms.
"Ah quit your theatrics ya fuckin' minx. Look at you." Soap hisses, his voice suddenly dropping an octave. You hear him mutter a curse, and feel him run his hands all over you- your belly, your sides, your tits-
You yelp when he pushes you flat against the sheets, and you grab at his hair when he starts to press kisses on your lower belly, "Johnny-" he groans, biting at your plush flesh, hands kneading your sides in appreciation, savoring. "You're so fuckin' beautiful- jesus fuckin' christ,"
yeah he made you feel better alright.
könig
like ghost he's a bit insecure himself. has his own issues and doubts about himself so he gets it
but still can't believe that YOU feel that way
like you and your perfect self? he gets so frustrated that he wants to punch something
how DARE you think you're not perfect, how dare you.
once he finds out how you feel he makes it his mission in life to spoil you rotten, and make you realize how incredible you are
this makes me think back to that other ask I got about him fingering you while making you look at yourself in the mirror- booooyyy
HE WOULD IN THIS SCENARIO AS WELL, I JUST KNOW IT.
he'd be so angry at you for not loving yourself LMFAOOO HE'D BE POUTING I SWEAR
man turns FERAL, it's the most dominant you've ever seen him-
he'd make you see yourself how he sees you, if it's the last thing he ever did
"Don't you dare look away, liebling," you squirm in König's hold, his hand holding your jaw, making sure you won't miss a thing as he runs his other hand aaaall over your middle, squeezing the plump flesh in his hands as he goes.
You watch Konig's face in the mirror, speechless at how dazed he looked, half-lidded eyes trailing all over your naked form- drinking in all your curves hungrily. He groans lowly, his eyes almost rolling back when he squeezes your supple skin "I can't... how can you look this good and not know it?"
"König-" you go to turn your face in order to look at him, but his hand tightens against your jaw, making you whimper and keep your head in place, "No. Look away and you'll regret it. Now, repeat what I said earlier-"
"But-"
"I won't ask again, liebling."
You give the tiniest moan when his hand snakes in between your legs, his palm cupping your pussy, nd you grind down at it needily "I-I'm beautiful.."
He hums, "And..?" his fingers gather up your slick to circle up your clit, drawing three, four tight circles on the nub before he's sliding them down again, slipping two fingers inside your pussy, thrusting them lazily in and out of your drenched cunt.
You mewl, circling your hips against the palm of his hand, loving the way it nudged your clit the slightest bit, "Jesus christ.. and g-gorgeous.."
"Mhm that's right, my love. Doubt that again and I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for a week, yeah?" he smiles at your reflection, and it would have been so innocent and almost shy if it weren't for the devious glint in his eyes.
2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
#•ूᡣ𐭩 — ghost#•ूᡣ𐭩 — price#•ूᡣ𐭩 — soap#•ूᡣ𐭩 — konig#ghost x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#ghost cod x reader#cod fanfic#ghost imagine#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine#cod mw2 x reader#mw2 imagine#mw2 x reader#l13#john price x reader#price x reader#john price imagine#john price cod#captain price x reader#john price fic#anon.<3#soap smut#könig x reader#konig x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞
(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)
next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.
a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)
Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.
THEN, 1986.
“Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around.
Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.
“I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.”
“Wha’?”
“Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”
Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”
“Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair.
While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him.
Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him.
The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention.
Someone.
Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side.
Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.
He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.
Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.
They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it.
Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough.
Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie.
He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.
He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.
Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.
And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.
The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.
Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.
With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.
“It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.
If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.
Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.
NOW, 1989
“Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.
“Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.
You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.
Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand.
When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.
Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.
You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.
Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying.
You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job.
You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan.
So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?
Your mother was murdered.
Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.
Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional.
The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.
Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.
And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery.
Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself.
You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.
You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.
Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace.
The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.
Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells.
He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting.
So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.
When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead.
“Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”
It was a little odd, but you did.
When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?
“I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.
“I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”
Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.
The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.
You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him.
You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”
You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’
“Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”
You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.
“Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.
But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”
You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”
What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.
“YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring.
“He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”
You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.
“Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?
“Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”
You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”
You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.”
Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”
Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss.
“I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”
And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.
You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked.
“I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”
“Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.”
You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”
Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”
Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.
“It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.
You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that.
“That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.”
Didn’t feel like it.
Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”
You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.
“No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”
Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”
“Are you sure that’s not cancer?”
“You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands.
“And I can. Please, let me do this.”
You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.
After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.
You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.
You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.
You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.
“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”
Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.
Your step-sister had been apologizing since.
“It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it.
You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.
“So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university.
Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.
“See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?”
You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat.
“Okay, spill.”
Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.
“Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!”
This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile.
“Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush.
“Steve Harrington.”
“STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.
“Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.
“He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”
“Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”
You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”
“Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.”
You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.
“And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again.
“Does he flirt with you?”
“No.”
“See him flirt with any girls?”
“Nope.”
“Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”
“Looks more voluminous than poofy.”
Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”
You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”
“He’s on the spectrum?”
Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”
It got quiet for a few moments.
”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”
You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most.
She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.
”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”
“Reefer Rick?”
“Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”
Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”
Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”
Munson.
You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”
You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”
Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”
“I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”
“How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.
“Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”
You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.
Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.
Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.
“Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”
“No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.
“How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”
Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.
“H-He’s your favorite…?”
“Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”
“You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”
You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you.
“Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”
Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”
“He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”
Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”
You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.
You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.
You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea.
“Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”
Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.
Maybe a drink would calm you down.
You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.
“The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now.
“What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.
“Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”
You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”
Oh, shit.
Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.
You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.
”Funny seeing you here.”
You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.
“Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”
You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off.
“It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.
“I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.
“Oh.”
He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”
OH, THANK FUCK.
“Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.
“So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”
“Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”
She could eat shit, his pants were yours.
“Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.
“Hey, Carol.”
Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”
“You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl.
“Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”
“Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.
“You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”
“I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.
Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.
When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.
Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”
“Oopsie.”
But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.
“Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy.
Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.
Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.
At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.
You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.
Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning.
You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.
You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.
You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.
“You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.
“You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?
“Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”
He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.
“You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”
He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.
Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.
“I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”
“Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.
“Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it.
Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.
”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.
“You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”
“Wall.”
“Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”
“Great Wall of China.”
Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.
“Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”
Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense.
Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.
”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.
“Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing.
“Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.
“Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.
And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”
At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.
Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.
Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.
“Does that feel good?”
You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.”
Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”
Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.
You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.
All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.
You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.
To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.
Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.
“I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.
You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.
When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.
The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror
The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within.
She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.
You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.
Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.
“Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”
Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.
You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you.
His right arm was out, palm up.
He was waiting for you.
You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.
Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.
“Sissy. . .”
“Sissy…”
“SISSY!”
You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.
She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect.
What the hell?
“You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”
You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways.
You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.
“It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”
“Oh my god…”
“So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.
You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.
“Ooh, your knees…”
You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…
“I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.
“Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.
Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.
“You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”
Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist.
“Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once.
“Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.
“It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”
“Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”
You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.
“Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.
“It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.
“Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”
“That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”
“Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”
“I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”
You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”
Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”
You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.
“─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”
”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.
“And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing.
“That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”
Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning.
You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.
You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.
But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.
You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.
You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.
“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”
You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”
“I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.
You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.
“Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”
“THAT WE DO!”
You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.
“What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.
“Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.
“Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”
“Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.
“Mm. White wine?”
It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”
“Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”
You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.
“He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”
You shot him a glare.
“Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”
You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers.
You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.
When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.
Then your eyes snapped open.
Oh, god. You were a loser.
After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.
A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.
“Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.
“Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.
There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.
“Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation.
“She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”
“I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.
“Yes, we got a free soda!”
Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”
You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.
“Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”
Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.
“Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.
“Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”
“You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.
“All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.”
“Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”
“I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”
“I bet you can.”
After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.
You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.
Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.
You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house.
Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder.
And it was coming from outside your front door.
You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.
Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home.
You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.
“Uuuhhhnng…”
This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!
”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.
You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.
“Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”
You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.
“OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”
Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.
Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life.
“Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!”
You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.
Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs.
You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.
“Stop it!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Go away, I’m just a girl!”
The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.
Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!
You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”
You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.
Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located.
On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature.
You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it.
Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.
The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.
When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.
Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.
His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.
“It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.”
He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation,
“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”
“Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.
“I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”
It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.
He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.
You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.
“Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”
He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.
“Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”
A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.
Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.
“C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”
#Eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#Freak like me#lisa frankenstein#lisa frankenstein inspo#Zombie!eddie munson#dead!eddie munson#undead!eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson au#Eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson#Steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x black!reader
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Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.
I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵
Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader
Word Count: 5K
Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference
More monster fluff here
“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.”
You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust.
“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”
You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand.
“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?”
“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.”
“By assaulting me?” you snapped.
There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces.
Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying.
It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless.
“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.”
One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop.
“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.
He waved to his accomplices.
“Get in there and restrain her!”
Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping.
You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice.
“The enemy approaches! Your swords!”
The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you.
Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight.
Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you.
The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical.
When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm.
“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.”
You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them.
You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming.
The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop.
He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building.
“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran.
Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet.
You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language. There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold.
A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in.
“What’s in there?” you asked.
He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside.
“Hello?”
Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond.
“Enter, little one.”
Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw.
You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand.
“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger.
“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.”
“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.”
He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you.
“That’s why you’re here.”
“I don’t understand.”
His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up.
“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.”
You blinked up at him.
“Oh…Am I your prisoner?”
He chuckled.
“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.”
You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it.
“I can’t stay here with you!”
He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly.
“Why is that, little one?”
You narrowed your eyes at him.
“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.”
A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground.
“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him.
“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”
The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks.
“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore.
He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile.
“You’ll fit right in here.”
You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced.
“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.”
“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.”
“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?”
He flicked a fingertip at your poker.
“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.”
Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it.
“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.”
He snorted at you but nodded his head.
“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.”
“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…”
He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny.
“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.”
Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms.
“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down.
He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand.
“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.”
You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky.
“Do you feel like submitting?”
You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down.
“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.”
He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs.
“This is your bed.”
He gave you another smile.
“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.”
Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets.
He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed.
—
You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored.
Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.
“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked.
“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?”
“This is a war camp, not a nursery.”
“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.”
“I outrank you. I can take your command.”
Cedar snorted.
“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.”
Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through.
“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!”
Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow.
There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG.
“Woah!” the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal.
A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.
Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.
“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods.
Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer.
“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”
When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head.
“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk.
Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it.
“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.”
He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking.
“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book.
He smiled.
“Reading.”
You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips.
“Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.”
He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth.
“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.”
You looked him up and down.
“I can’t imagine you as a child.”
You thought for a second, tapping your chin.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.”
He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable.
“You will,” he said as he flipped a page.
Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work.
By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle.
“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air.
Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement.
“Here.”
You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question.
“What are you going to do with all of us?”
“Hmm?” he asked.
“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.”
He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash.
“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”
Your eyebrows jumped.
“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?”
He shrugged.
“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.”
“What? The soldiers said you attacked!”
He chuckled.
“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.”
“You mean…you wish to mate with us?”
His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod.
“Is that so surprising?”
You thought about it for a moment.
“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?”
His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch.
“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.”
He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders.
“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again.
“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed.
His smile widened.
“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.”
Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot.
“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.
Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass.
Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come.
It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure.
A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside.
A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all.
“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.”
The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary.
“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!”
You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table.
“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around.
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed.
“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another.
“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?”
Another woman scoffed.
“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.”
Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered.
“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!”
You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands.
“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.”
Linda squeaked in horror.
“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!”
“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!”
“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!”
“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.”
You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside.
“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.”
You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets.
Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh.
“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap.
“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!”
You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife.
“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!”
Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles.
“What is she thinking?!”
“Linda, come back!”
“Let her go, she’s nuts.”
You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker.
“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!”
Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda.
You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier.
“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!”
“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!”
Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black.
—
“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away.
Isla scoffed.
“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!”
“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!”
“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”
You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared.
“What…what happened?” you murmured.
“She’s awake!” Isla gasped.
You felt her cool hands against your cheek.
“Take it slow, here; have some water.”
She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned.
“Is everyone okay?” you asked.
Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit.
“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.”
Another woman poked her head out of the tent.
“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!”
“Untie who? Is the battle over?”
Isla nodded.
“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”
She smirked at you.
“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!”
You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch.
“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?”
“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.”
Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you.
“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.”
He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go.
“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.”
Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look.
“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered.
He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in.
“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head.
You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep.
“Our home?”
He grinned at you, counting on his fingers.
“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!”
He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.
“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.
Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.
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