#but that is just. another Task that i keep putting off until the last minute | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lightseoul · 7 days ago

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CHAPTER 7 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.3k (jesus. this is the longest one yet)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), lots of cussing, some minor timeskip manga spoilers, slightly nsfw themes, mentions of food, bakugou katsuki is bad at feelings, feelings—lots of 'em, the true calm before the storm, shit's about to go down!!!

a/n. we're so back, y'all!!! this one took me a while, i have to admit. it even got to a point where i thought i'd just leave this series unfinished for a plethora of reasons. but after clawing through a few sessions of barely being able to write anything, i was struck with the vision of how to get the chapter going in the middle of a massage lol. the rest was history. that said, i'd love to know your thoughts so far, so please don't be a stranger <3 (comments keep me going. btw. not to sound like a slut)

links. masterlist, ao3

You ended up not getting home until past 8 PM that Monday.

After you successfully used your quirk on Kirishima and Hiroto, resulting in the transfer of that fated scrap of paper containing the attack’s details, Kaminari insisted that you hang out after lunch and make the most of your day off until everybody relented. Bakugou was uncharacteristically quiet—you noted—even as the electric hero whisked the six of you away to the nearest mall where you shopped and visited a KTV spot afterward.

You didn’t expect to spend hours watching the four goof off and sing their hearts out while Bakugou sat silently to the side, although time passed by faster than you thought it would anyway. The group eventually parted ways at around 6 PM, after which you and Bakugou decided to eat at a ramen restaurant where you sat yourselves by the counter so you wouldn’t have to force conversation.

Hiroto shadowed the two of you the entire time, up to the instant when you and Bakugou entered a darkened spot in the outdoor parking lot to wait for the twin to message Kouki and have the old man teleport you back to headquarters. You didn’t have to wait for too long—you were gone and right back at the front of your bedroom in a matter of minutes, bug-less and cameras covered another minute after.

And only as you stripped off your going-out clothes for the day in the privacy of the bathroom did it sink in—how you actually did it.

You actually transmitted the message.

And as much as it fucking sucks, the most you can do now—at least until D-Day—is to put your faith in Kirishima and the rest of the pro-heroes who will be tasked with stopping this act of genocide altogether.

Easy enough…

Right.

The next day—Tuesday—starts typically as the others have transpired in the last two weeks-ish of living in the headquarters: violently woken by a twin’s knocking, then scrambling to seem like you were sharing the bed, to promptly getting ready for and having breakfast at the mess hall.

Just like how every day’s been in this supremacist hellhole, everything goes by like clockwork.

That is, up until Omiru walks up to your usual table just as you are about to take your last chug of water after downing your substantial plate of pancakes.

You peer at her from over the rim of your glass, cautious—and rightfully so. Beside you, Bakugou puts down his utensils and straightens up in his seat. Neither of you says anything, opting to let her speak first instead.

And when she finally does, she’s looking straight at no one but Bakugou.

“Follow me.”

At that, you glance at the pro-hero in question, who only shoots the twin a stern look before nodding curtly. You watch him as he gathers his tray and stands up, and you’re about to move and follow suit when Omiru’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Not you,” she spews pointedly. “Just him.”

From where you are half-sitting with your ass frozen mid-air, you blink at the woman. “What?”

“Masaki-san needs him at the private training facility, pronto,” comes her terse reply, sounding more impatient by the minute. “He’s not to be disturbed.”

Your face contorts in displeasure before you can think better against it. Then, schooling it into a more neutral expression, you shake your head as you finally straighten up, willing your voice to stay firm. “Whatever you have to say to him you can say to me, too.”

Omiru opens her mouth to most likely snap at you for wasting more and more of her time, but she doesn’t get to do that because you’re both silenced by a sudden hand on your forearm. You whip to look at Bakugou, and his lips are pressed into a thin line as he nods again—only this time, at you—as if that was all the explanation you needed.

“It’s okay,” he offers, his voice low. “I’ll come and look for you by the time we’re done.”

You can only stare at him, tamping down the incredulity that’s creeping up your throat.

Since when did he decide to be Mr. Calm and Collected?

As much as you want to, you don’t question him, though, knowing it will cause more harm than good. You’re so close to the day of the operation, and the last thing you need is to blow your cover.

So instead, and with a wary heart, you nod back at him, before leaning in and pressing a quick peck on his cheek.

“Take care, babe,” you say timidly, grateful he took the kiss just now like a champ—with little to no faltering.

“I will,” comes his weirdly soft response, before he steps out of his seat and trails behind Omiru, leaving you and your tray of empty plates.

You move to tuck the stretchy fabric into the rest of the contorted arrangement you’ve got going on—folding your panties was the most you could think of doing to keep your mind off the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you the entire day, after all—and plop it on your pile of fresh undergarments.

Or at least, you were going to do that, when the door to your bedroom suddenly bursts open, and you startle so badly, that the neat stack of underwear crumbles like a poorly built Jenga tower on top of the bed.

You scramble to hide them behind you just as Bakugou emerges from the hallway, and the very first thing that registers when your eyes land on him is that he’s fucking drenched.

In sweat. Drenched in sweat.

And, to your chagrin, he must’ve noticed you gaping at him because his gaze drifts over to meet yours after he closes the door behind him. “What?”

You blink at him, suddenly yanked out of your dumb stupor. “Nothing—it’s just…” you trail off, now trying to ignore the weirdly scandalous way his wet shirt is clinging to his muscled torso. You knew his hero costume accentuated and therefore showcased a built body from the chance encounters about him in the news, but seeing it through an almost translucent cover-up…

“Just what?”

You gulp, bringing your eyes back up to meet his unnervingly scrutinizing ones.

…Why is he looking at you like that?

Instead of dwelling on the thought, though, you manage to voice out the question you and the imaginary mouse in your pocket are wondering. “W-why are you so… sweaty?”

Now, if he’s offended by how that came out just a breadth’s hair away from sounding disgusted, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he crosses the short distance between him and your small wardrobe and flings it open.

“I thought you were smarter than that, princess,” comes his casual reply, and you find yourself stiffening—not just at the nickname, but at what came before that.

You frown, although he doesn’t see it with his back turned against you. “I don’t get how you’re being so nonchalant today,” you say so honestly you shock yourself, voice lowered out of instinct despite having made sure that there are no extra bugs in the room.

Whatever Bakugou expected for a response—it must’ve been anything but that—because he stops rifling through his clothes and whips to look at you, a mild expression of surprise written across his features.

But before he can say anything to that, you beat him to it. “What did they make you do, Bakugou?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but pauses before he can get a word out. You watch the man as he stands there for a second, the metaphorical gears in his head spinning loud enough that you can practically hear them. You can tell they’re still turning a beat later, even as he closes the wardrobe behind him and turns to fully face you.

“I—” he starts, hesitant, “I thought you would’ve figured.”

“Figured what?” You’re getting impatient now.

“That I was called on to start making the bombs.”

Oh.

The realization dawning on you must be evident in your profile because Bakugou nods as if in confirmation. “I was anticipating they’d call me in sooner or later, so I wasn’t surprised when that twin approached us during breakfast.”

Fuck, you feel stupid.

How you’re feeling is none of Bakugou’s business, though, so you will yourself to dip your head to show you understand. “I totally forgot about the bombs,” you admit.

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame you,” he turns again and resumes busying himself with the cabinets. “They did their research and found out my bombs are more explosive the fresher they are. Explains why they waited ‘til the last minute.”

Huh.

“I guess that also explains why you look like an over-glazed doughnut.”

That makes him bark out a laugh. “More like a wet dog, but I’ll take that.”

You’re about to say that no, he definitely looks more like an over-glazed doughnut, but then you remember you’d rather fail this mission and cause massive destruction before you go off admitting he looks…maybe just a tiny bit delectable in this state.

You’re back to avoiding the sight of…him—altogether—in silence, when Bakugou glances at you over his shoulder. “Can you pass me my towel?”

“Sure,” you say as you fetch it from where it’s hung across the couch’s backrest before padding back toward him.

You hand it over. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Now it’s your turn to stand somewhat awkwardly behind him as he finishes up gathering his change of clothes for the night. There’s one more thing you need to ask him.

Anytime now.

You take a sharp inhale just as he whirls to face you, expectant. You muster a small smile, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I was just gonna ask—they didn’t hurt you, did they? You were treated okay?”

Your stomach instantly drops when the expectant look just now morphs into a smirk. “I think you underestimate my ability to protect myself, princess.”

You feel yourself flame. “I—” you stammer, wildly caught off guard, and his grin widens. You then frown, resigned. “Come on, man, not cool.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, sounding far from apologetic, “‘m sorry. Though, you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“That’s it,” you raise your hands in mock surrender, spinning to gather your folded underwear that are still scattered on the bed. “They can go ahead and snip off your balls, for all I care.”

“Damn, that escalated quickly.”

You only toss him a sarcastic smile as you take up the spot beside him, opening your tiny drawer and dumping the articles into them before he can get a closer glimpse. The last thing you need is for him to see your threadbare, granny panties.

Bakugou chuckles again, the indication of his mirth the last sound that echoes in the room before a quiet envelops the two of you, the atmosphere taking a sudden shift.

“How about you, huh?” he suddenly asks, almost making you jump. You raise an eyebrow at him, still not quite past his earlier teasing.

He doesn’t react with hostility, though, only shrugging in response. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” you parrot lamely, shocked at his query.

To your disbelief, he doesn’t roll his eyes or shoot you a derisive quip, only nodding—an unmistakable, serious glint in his crimson gaze. You gulp despite yourself.

“It was pretty much the same for me, I guess. Except there weren’t as many people around…”

You falter, debating whether or not you should tell him the more incriminating truth. But then you make the mistake of meeting his penetrating stare and then suddenly, it all comes tumbling out.

“I—I was worried about you.”

That takes Bakugou by surprise, his brows shooting up in a profound display of bewilderment. An abrupt pang of embarrassment shoots through you at the sight, and you scurry to save face.

“Looks like there was no need, though, considering how you’re joking around and being an ass and all,” you jest, taking the hoodie you were meaning to get from the rack and closing your side of the wardrobe.

“I—”

“Good night, Bakugou,” you cut him off, plopping yourself on the couch with your back turned against him, effectively shooting the conversation down.

Needless to say, you struggle to sleep that night.

As if she knew you fell into a fitted slumber and needed more goddamn sleep, Omiru was already up and banging at your door five minutes earlier than usual the morning after, ripping you out of your sluggish haze. It didn’t help that it was your turn on the couch that night—which, even after all this time of dozing there, still proved to be quite unforgiving to your neck and lower back, especially. Once you were all ready and had opened the door, though, your usual routine was done but not before a rundown on what was to happen that day. You were to pack your things and prepare to leave the headquarters by the time Bakugou was done producing the last batch of bombs.

She conveniently didn’t say when that was, opting to whisk Bakugou away instead.

So without any idea as to when you were making the move, you tried your best to keep busy—a task that proved to be herculean, seeing as how the number of people present had dwindled significantly, you could count them with just your fingers and toes.

It didn’t take you long to figure out why that was. The people who’ve gone—they were all teleported to their posts to prepare for tomorrow’s attack.

By batches.

Because, as it turns out, you were right. Kouki’s quirk does have a limitation.

He can only muster enough power to teleport a certain number of people—across a certain distance—a handful of times a day. It all depends on three factors: number, distance, and frequency.

And because Bakugou’s got important business as the organization’s very own human-bomb factory, you two will be transported later in the day as part of the last batch.

You mull over this newfound information—again and again, mainly because there really isn’t much else to do other than pack—until, unbeknownst to you, the clock on the wall strikes five. You jump from where you are seated on the sofa when, as if on cue, the door bursts open, revealing a yet again sweaty Bakugou, with Kouki and the twins tailing closely behind him.

“Just let me take a quick shower and finalize my stuff,” Bakugou offhandedly says, eyeing you as he picks up his towel, not wasting even a modicum of a second. “Then we’ll get going to my place.”

His what?

“Sorry?” you manage to ask, acutely aware of the panic that’s rising in your throat—fast.

Bakugou peers at you for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. But then he’s chuckling—oh so naturally, like your reaction was adorable to him rather than potentially detrimental to your covers—as he walks toward you.

And then he’s leaning down and into your space, a warning look in his eyes. You barely catch a glimpse of it before he leans even further and kisses your cheek, smiling as he pulls away.

“My place, baby,” he coos, “Where we’ll stay the night.”

“Here we are,” Kouki announces just as the floor beneath you rematerializes, light and markedly spotless as compared to the nicked, hardwood floors you’ve grown to be familiar with over the past weeks. You look up, a faint trace of dizziness clouding your mind still, although it’s quickly replaced by awe as you take in the rest of the room.

Dropping your luggage to the side, you make quick work of what can only be Bakugou Katsuki’s living space.

Well, it’s just what you’d expect from the guy. Purposively designed, no-nonsense, and exceptionally pristine.

And closer to the Prime Minister’s Office. At least, as compared to your more modest home, which is why you’re even here in the first place.

Regardless, you were about to compliment the man for being an outlier of the male population when you suddenly remember that you’re supposed to be well-acquainted with his high-rise apartment unit. You know, as his girlfriend?

You slam your mouth shut, just as Kouki steps forward and turns to face the rest of you like a commander in the military. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Big day tomorrow,” he declares, his trademark haughtiness heavy in his tone. “The four of you, review your assignments and be ready by 6 AM sharp. I’ll pick you up here.”

Then, a pointed look toward you and Bakugou. “Don’t be late.”

And just as quickly as you teleported into the pro-hero’s unit, Kouki vanishes, leaving the two of you with the twins.

Silence.

“That man’s got a bug up his old ass, that’s for sure.”

You whip to face Bakugou, surprised and equal parts amused. He only tosses you a smug look, as if daring you to question him.

You don’t, similar to how you don’t dare spare either of the twins a worried glance.

“We should order,” Bakugou says not a minute later, effortlessly picking up your belongings and transferring them to an empty spot beside a door. “I cleared out the ref two weeks ago. ‘m out of groceries.”

“Sure,” you reply, seating yourself comfortably on his sofa like you’ve been here countless times. You sense all three pairs of eyes studying you as you burrow into the plush cushion, willing every neuron in your system to relax. “How ‘bout from that restaurant we went to with the squad? I’m craving some curry.”

“Aha,” Bakugou smirks as he walks over and throws his butt down way too close beside you. “So you did want to switch.”

You bristle, if not at being unceremoniously caught then at how he just slung an arm over the backrest behind you. “T–That’s beside the point,” you argue, before swiftly turning to Hiroto. “Can we have our phones for just a sec, please? We need to order.”

If Bakugou noticed your smooth segue slash redirection just now, he doesn’t point it out, instead letting you take your smartphones from the absurdly tall man without much of a hassle. You quickly place your orders—even asking the twins what they want despite how badly they’ve treated you since your first meeting at that dingy club.

You’re not a monster, after all.

They seem to think you are, though, because they blatantly ignore your kind offer.

Well, then. If they have a hard time falling asleep because of hunger later then that’s not your problem anymore.

Not even thirty minutes after ordering, your food arrives, and the twins end up allowing Bakugou to go down the lobby by himself to fetch the delivery. You almost groan when he walks through the door with the goods in tow, the strong waft of curry sauce filling the air and making your stomach churn in budding anticipation.

“You’re not helping your case, babe,” Bakugou teases as you excitedly pore over the takeout bag, reaching into it to grab your share and then his.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over this glorious smell,” you quip, which grants you a chuckle.

No more words are exchanged as you get started on your feast, too wiped out from today’s activities—Bakugou and his bomb production and your…well, trying not to go crazy—to even start, let alone maintain, a steady conversation. The room is silent aside from some slurping and quiet chewing here and there, with neither Omiru nor Hiroto saying anything to break the monotony.

And you think it must be that—the quiet—that spurs the abrupt observation mid-spoonfeed of how domestic everything is. You wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be eating a meal with Bakugou in his dining room—high schooler you definitely wouldn’t have—but as it turns out life’s got a funny way of pulling the rug from underneath you and messing with your head.

Just like these muddy ass feelings.

No, you think to yourself. Now’s not the time.

Not when you’re barely able to stomach your food, anyway. You were—are hungry—if the incessant rumbling of your abdomen since late afternoon was any indication—but you forgot you’ve been sickeningly nervous the entire day. Still, you force each bite down. The last thing you need is to be frail tomorrow.

“Here,” Bakugou reaches out from across the table a few moments later, “Give me your plate.”

“No,” you say as you lift the empty ceramic further from him, “Let me help.”

Your plea falls on deaf ears, however, because Bakugou leans closer and snatches the dish from your hands before you can even scream a strangled wait! You must be looking stupefied, because Bakugou only smirks at you as he quickly gathers the dishes, beaming with pride as if having a ridiculously wide wing span is something he earned rather than was unjustly given.

“Unfair…” you mumble as you resort to gathering the trash instead, collecting it in the bag that the delivery came in.

“Just leave it there,” he calls out from the kitchen a few feet away, scraping the scraps off the platters. And when he’s realized you’re not listening: “Babe.”

You lift your hands like you’re a contestant in Master Chef and Gordon Ramsey just called time’s up, a petulant frown on your face. “Jeez, I’m just trying to help.”

“And I’m trying to be a gentleman,” comes his snarky retort. You bite back the urge to snort. “Go unpack in the bedroom while I finish up here,” he orders, “I’ll be quick.”

Please don’t be is your visceral reaction, although you manage not to say it out loud. You need at least ten minutes—give or take—of being alone in his bedroom to come to terms with this precarious situation you’ve been dealt with. You manage to reply with a small ‘okay’ before heading over to grab your things, very much cognizant of the ticking clock.

But then it dawns on you that you don’t have any idea where his fucking bedroom is.

You pause mid-bend, pretending you’re studying the hard case of your luggage for non-existent scratches. You know that there are three doors, not counting the one Bakugou went in and out from to get your food. One has to lead to the common restroom, another to his home office slash gym that you’ve heard him talk about once during your lunches at the headquarters, which leaves the last one as his bedroom’s entryway.

Hurry up, your brain tells you. You’re getting suspicious.

Wait.

You let your mind flash back to a while ago, a few moments after you arrived here. ‘We should order,’ was what Bakugou said, as he conveniently hefted your bags to this spot here, which must be right beside…

The bedroom door.

Bingo.

You repress a sigh of relief when you’re greeted with the sight of a massive mattress upon turning the knob, wasting no time as you squeeze into the threshold with your belongings. You were about to shut the door behind you when a female voice calls out your name out of nowhere, and you startle. Turning to face who must’ve been Omiru, you’re quick to put on a nonchalant facade, as if she didn’t just scare you in your metaphorical boots.

“Your tracker,” she says flatly when you don’t move an inch.

“O–oh. Right.”

You stand in place as she goes over the motions while Hiroto does the same with Bakugou. You’ve gone through this so many times that you don’t even wince when she rips out the device, instead only giving her a quick thanks and a rare good night when she steps away.

She doesn’t say it back.

You take that as your cue to go back into Bakugou’s sleeping quarters, and only when the weighty slab of wood is closed behind you do you let out a heavy exhale, suddenly feeling the fatigue that’s been looming over you since last night in its entirety.

But then that’s immediately booted out with a shot of adrenaline when you see it.

The couch.

Or the lack thereof.

You're still standing there—mortified—by the time Bakugou enters the room with his stuff, shutting the door and consequently granting you your first semblance of privacy for the day.

“What,” he says more than asks a minute later, when you still haven’t said anything.

“There’s no couch,” you croak-whisper.

You were not about to sleep on the floor.

You were not about to share a bed with Bakugou, either.

Not after you’ve spent the last two weeks slaving over your high-maintenance sleeping arrangement.

“Relax, dumbass,” comes his fluid retort. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the man is finding this shit funny. “I have a futon.”

Turns out, he wasn’t lying—what feels like a huge burden lifted off your shoulders when he opens a cabinet to his right and pulls out a moderately thick cushion. You waste no time in assisting him, taking two corners while the pro-hero handles the other two, coordinating as you place the futon perpendicularly, right at the foot of the bed.

“Thanks,” you tell him when you’re done, dusting off your hands. “Do you have a blanket I can—”

“Too late,” he cuts you off, lightly diving into the mattress.

You gawk at the man. “Wha—”

“It’s your turn on the bed tonight,” he says as a matter of factly, not even bothering to look you in the eye. You splutter, but ultimately relent. As much as you want to argue, you do need some proper rest, especially after last night’s sorry attempt at recharging.

Thankfully, though, Bakugou doesn’t rile you up any further as you each go through your nightly routines and take turns in the built-in bathroom, careful not to invade each other’s spaces. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes and you’re already both plastered and tucked in your respective beds, the occasional noises from the traffic tens of floors below you the only thing filling the otherwise empty air.

But as it turns out, the getting ready for bed part isn’t the problem.

By the time it’s 10 PM, you’ve already tossed and turned roughly twenty times, agonizingly nowhere near asleep despite the luxurious bedding beneath your limbs. It’s after the 21st time, though, that you finally let your mind wander to the man on the floor and whether or not he’s asleep. He must be—having been tuckered out from producing explosives for two days straight. Still, your mind refuses to let go of the thought—brimming with boredom-fueled curiosity that’s begging for visual confirmation.

Sitting up carefully, you strain to peek at Bakugou. He’s been awfully quiet, you think to yourself.

Just a little bit more—

“Can’t sleep?”

You freeze. Shit.

“Uh, no,” you reply, aborting mission and lying back down as silently as possible. “Not really.”

“No shit. I heard you, the last twenty times.”

“Twenty-one,” you correct him. “But who’s counting?”

That earns you a laugh. “What, you scared?”

Your face reflexively contorts in offense, although it’s quick to fall when you realize you’ve actually no right to be offended. “If I told you I was, would that make me a loser?”

To your surprise, his answer is instant. “Nah.”

At that, your brows furrow. “That’s it? Just nah? No what do you think, princess, or some other equally lame taunt?”

“Oooh.” Jesus, you can practically hear him smirking. “You want me to call you princess?”

“There it is. Welcome back, Bakugou.”

A chuckle. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

You snort. “So I’ve been told.”

Then, a pause.

“Hey,” you start again a few beats later, gaze fixed—unwavering—on the gray ceiling, “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

You gulp. “Are you scared?”

This time, the answer is not as instant, but it appears to remain the same. “…No.”

“Really?” you ask, voice inadvertently teeming with incredulity.

You hear some rustling, like he’s shrugging against the bedsheets. “I’ve gone through much worse.”

Oh…

Right.

He did die and came out as one of the most important heroes of the Great War, alongside formidable people—the very people you tapped to help you just a few days ago. Maybe he’s right not to be scared.

“Is it my turn now?” he pipes up suddenly.

Huh? “Your what?”

“My turn to ask a question.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were taking turns.”

“Well, we are now.”

You roll your eyes, comfortable in the knowledge that he can’t see you. “Okay, then. Go ahead.”

Now—don’t go ahead, is what you would have said, had you fucking known what he was going to say next.

“That day before winter break—” he begins, and you find yourself instantly tensing.

Fuck, no.

He huffs. “—You were gonna confess to me, weren’t ya?”

Fuck.

A deafening silence falls upon the room.

A silence that goes on for what must be a decade.

Then—

“…Is this some hidden camera prank or something?” you laugh dryly.

“No,” he says so seriously your eyes widen. “I was just…thinking about it.”

Well, fuck. Now he’s done it.

What are you supposed to do? Or say to that? Deny it and say, dude, no, you’re delusional? Or ask him where he got the motherfucking audacity and call it a day?

But then the strangest thing happens and an inexplicable feeling washes over you, one that is too nostalgic it’s almost painful.

Ah, yes.

You remember this one.

It wasn’t the first one to show up in the scene, but it was quick to envelop every other emotion afterward, lingering with you until the soothing balm that is time did its magical work and helped you forget.

The regret of not being able to admit your feelings.

And now, a full ten years later, you’re suddenly thrust with the opportunity to finally do what you failed to do then.

You don’t even have to think about it.

“Yes,” you rasp out, heart thrumming frantically against your chest. “I mean, the answer is yes, I was going to. Luckily you didn’t let me get to the embarrassing part, though, huh?”

“Look, I—”

“If you’re gonna apologize,” you cut him off, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Bakugou. That thing’s in the past now. I’ve moved on, as fucking cheesy as it sounds.”

You then chuckle, ignoring the way your hands are stubbornly shaking. “That was just a silly high school crush, anyway.”

“Yeah, well—” he clears his throat, “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it. But…I do still want to apologize, though. For that first day, around two weeks ago.”

“What about it?”

“You don’t remember? I was an ass to you.”

First day? You don’t—

But then it all comes rushing to you—the intimidating looks, the backhanded remarks, the outright insulting comments.

He sniggers. “You just remembered now, didn’t you?”

You blanch. “I—”

“Don’t try to be nice,” he preempts. “I know I fucked up. It’s just—it was a lot to take in, and I took it out on you.”

He heaves a heavy sigh. “First it was having my past rehashed, and then when I met you I got reminded of how arrogant I was as a kid and it just felt like—”

“A slap to the face?”

Another huff. “Exactly.”

You smile—genuinely—this time wishing you were face to face so he could get a good view of it. You try to let it show in your voice instead.

“Thank you for telling me, Bakugou. Apology accepted.”

A sigh of relief. You feel your smile grow bigger.

“Now go to sleep, dumbass,” he spits, the vulnerability from just a second ago long gone, now replaced by his signature snark. “You heard the old geezer. Big day tomorrow.”

You can’t help it—you laugh.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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gravesdept · 4 months ago

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♡　＃　𓂃 Imagine you being vladimir makarovs right hand man — who he tolerates just a bit more than his other lapdogs, maybe he even lets you speak down to him, informs you on plans you have no business being in on, and lets you push his buttons.

everyone wonders whats just so special about the man whose always by makarovs side, he wonders so just as well as you both take hefty puffs off an old cigar that use to be stashed away in the back of his desk, its awfully hot in the room he thinks looking from the window back towards you who, well, is leaning just a couple inches astray from his face.

from this angle he cant see anything but the light at the end of the cigar, the room of his office fairly dark being only illuminated by light from the skyscrapers windows.

it takes a minute before you pass him back the almost dull blunt, it ends up sitting between his fingers for a bit as he trudges through his thoughts, “this situation is risky, boy, you know that righ’?” although he speaks clearly enough you cannot wrap your head around what he is implying

“not sure I understand.”

at that he puts the cig out on the desk resorting to just crossing his arms “this I mean, us, your not so subtle soldier.” he looks you dead in the eyes now, a look that youve seen men be killed for even witnessing.

its silent and almost peaceful in this small pocket of time “mm wasnt tryin’ to be subtle sir,, y’know pinning after you is no easy task.” you’d say jokingly if the man infront of you hadn’t killed many men whose ranks had rivaled yours in status, instead you stay quiet choosing to move all the bit closer to him in thought, hands resulting to rest in your jacket pockets.

“i could kill you, have you lit on fire for even thinkin such thoughts about me — yet you would just keep coming back, even offering to stand by my side like some kind of lacky in love.” he spits with just a hint of venomous tone “it repulses me even thinking about it; you fuckin’ in love with me solider?”

the scowl thats always reaching on his pretty face returns just once as he stands straight from leaning on the desk. hes still shorter than you and it only adds to his fuel.

“no m’not, hows that? was it satisfying enough for you?” a lie you half think about closing the distance between you two. but the metal that gets pressed up against your skull is enough assurance to halt the bare thought of movement.

his eyes search yours once more and before you know it your back is being pressed firmly against the desk.

maybe its the sensation from being high or just the adrenaline from this damn heat but you feel very obligated to wrap a hand around the hand thats holding up your ender, again its the post blunt high thats making you see things because his hand totally doesn’t falter when you touch it and it for sure doesn’t let you lower the gun either.

yeaaaa who laced the cigar because his facial expression isn’t in a scowl anymore its almost distraught watching you maneuver the gun to sit behind on the desk, his voice stoping you temporarily “not any further soldier. you’re messin w’ my fuckin head right now, and thats not what you want.”

the look you give him is deafening and its filled with something he cant source.

“what are you .. to decide what I want. are y’ afraid that i might break you?” you’re pushin it yet there it is again that same scowl just a bit deeper than before. its like your a fucking ticking bomb thats just wanting to explode “i'm jus’ waitin for your permission sir, to let me have you”

in another universe you might have been killed at the spot and brutally beaten until unrecognizable.

“do what you’ want, but you'd better make it damn good or i'll have to kill you.” he says backing up until his legs hit his office chair the sqeaking reminding the both of you where you just so happen to be at this hour.

but that is the last thing you’d have ever thought to hear from this oh so difficult man.

note ;; chat am I cooking even though this kind of out of character? ,, I keep blue balling cause I really cant write full fics but we getting there also requests will be opening soon, my messages are open right now if anyone wants to thirst tho.

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souliebird · 8 months ago

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[[and then I met you || ch 22]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k

ao3 link

It takes you a little over an hour to get Minnie to go down for bed. Tomorrow is her birthday party and to say she is excited is an understatement. She was practically jumping off the walls and it took three different books, a bottle, and two lullabies to finally get her to drift off. You are thankful when she doesn’t sit up again and call for you after five minutes, because you have a lot to do.

You need to clean up the apartment and decorate, you need to prepare pancake batter for a princess style breakfast, you need to finish wrapping presents, and you need to set up the couch for Matt. He will be coming by after his Patrol so he can stay the night and Minnie can wake up to the surprise of him being there, which is the perfect way to start her celebratory weekend.

But before any of that, you need to go take a shower so you can have a proper breakdown.

When you were younger, you believed crying was a sign of weakness. Your parents had treated it as such, always dismissive if you cried. The reason had never mattered - shedding tears was pointless and for children, so you had learned to bottle everything up and push it all down until the act of crying physically hurt you. Only very recently did you accept that crying is healthy.

You still hate doing it, though, and the only way you have found to balance your shame and your need for that emotional release is to treat it like another task you need to accomplish.

You triple check your daughter is truly asleep before you close the door to the bathroom and start the water. You keep yourself composed as you strip and only once you are under the spray do you let the tears start to fall.

So much has happened in such a short time and your anxiety has been through the roof.

The first bill for your hospital stay arrived today and you have been too scared to open it. You are terrified to go back into medical debt - giving birth in the United States had drained a lot of your savings and you have built it back up. You know there are all sorts of hidden fees, and you are going to need to do so much work contacting the various billing offices to try to get prices down.

It isn’t even like you are fully recovered from being in the hospital in the first place. You only just finished your antibiotics last week and your ear still randomly throbs or rings.

But honestly, you don’t know if that is from being sick or almost having your head bashed in.

You thought you would be okay after the attack. You thought Minnie would be the one with problems - having nightmares and jumping at shadows - but after the first day of making sure you were okay, she’s been fine. You haven’t been.

You’ve been plagued with nightmares about hands around your neck. You’ve been jumping at shadows when you leave the apartment.

You keep constantly checking your locks and you debate ordering pepper spray.

You don’t know what to do.

You aren’t okay.

You don’t feel safe.

The only time you have felt secure is when Matt was there to hold you and remembering such only signals your brain to send a new wave of tears.

He confuses you in a way no one else ever has.

You have never met anyone who cares so much before. It is overwhelming how much he loves Hell’s Kitchen - enough so to become a vigilante to protect it - and it is overwhelming how much he loves Minnie. You thought only you could love her that much.

Seeing them together does things to your heart you don’t understand. You just want to watch them play and bond until the end of time. They smile and laugh, and it is the only time you ever feel Whole. You feel like everything is perfect when the three of you are together.

You don’t know what to make of that. You don’t trust yourself with it - you’ve never felt like that before and you are scared that if you think too hard about it, you’ll find a flaw and the feeling will be ruined.

You just want Matt to hold you while the two of you watch Minnie play and that isn’t an okay fantasy for you to have. You don’t have that type of relationship with him.

He is a naturally touchy person with a huge heart. You’ve seen him hug Karen and Foggy before and you know he has only ever wrapped his arms around you to comfort you.

And he wants to comfort you because you are the mother of his child. He wouldn’t be around if it weren’t for Minnie and that is something you need to remind yourself of.

Matt loves Minnie. Family is extremely important to him, and he has told you time and time again that he strives to be the best dad possible for her - so of course that means he needs to take care of you and make sure you have a positive relationship.

If you and Matt butt heads, that wouldn’t be what was best for Minnie.

You need to do what is best for Minnie.

Which means you need to stop crying and get to work.

You wipe at your tears until they start to slow, then wash your face while still under the spray. It takes a minute or two for you to fully calm down, but once you do, it is like the tap is turned off. Crying time is over, so you stop your shower and quickly dry off so you can get dressed.

You feel better, but in a kind of dull way. It is like all the pressures in your life have been turned down to something more manageable and you know you will be able to focus on your tasks without slipping into a panic attack.

The apartment is not nearly as dirty as you believed it to be. You have to straighten some things up and you take the time to wipe down all the flat surfaces, but after that, you start putting things up. There’s a pink and yellow Happy Birthday banner and you blow up a few inflatables you found shaped like flowers and stick them to the walls. You twirl streamers together to decorate the back of the couch and the dining chairs, and your favorite piece is the pink sparkle fringe to hang over the hallway entrance. It isn’t the most elaborate of set ups, but you know Minnie will love it and that is all that matters to you.

Once your living space is Birthday themed, you turn to the kitchen. You went shopping today to make sure you had everything needed for a spectacular breakfast. You found a recipe for extra fluffy pancakes, and it seems easy enough - it calls for letting the batter rest overnight and you particularly like that as it is one less thing to do in the morning while trying to handle a rowdy toddler.

It doesn’t take long to get everything prepped and before you know it, it has been close to two hours since you put Minnie down to sleep and you feel it is finally safe to bring her presents out of their hidey holes to be wrapped.

She has grown a bit since you last bought her clothes, so you got her a nice little haul, including a new princess dress for her to wear to the zoo. It has sparkles and tulle and the dress comes with a matching crown you just know she won’t want to take off. You are extremely proud of the find.

You didn’t just get her clothes, though. Minnie has been more and more interested in helping you cook, so you got her a little kitchen play set. It comes with pots and pans, knives, utensils, bowls, plates, and some fake food. You thought it would be fun to have her practice her skills - she’s a pro at helping you stir and mix, and she knows how to use a butter knife to cut up fruit. You hope she enjoys pretending to wash her dishes, so you lure you into helping into that part of cooking, but you don’t think anyone finds that chore fun.

Before you can start wrapping, you need to go through everything and remove all the tags and stickers. It is a boring activity that takes far too long, so you decide you are going to multitask while doing so. You grab your laptop and notebook and settle down among your pile of bags.

Since your talk with Matt about Daredevil, you have been in research mode. The first few nights, you read every article you could find about the Devil. You started with the reputable sources - purely focusing on news reports - and once you had a timeline of events down, you switched to opinion pieces. You quickly ended up sorting those into three categories - positive outlooks, negative outlooks, and outlooks written by Karen Page.

You took notes on everything - making pro and con lists on each major event and circling back to jot down questions you had. You felt insane - and frankly a little invasive - but it was how you processed things. You wanted it all laid out nicely in front of you so you could come to your own conclusions.

But to get to that final conclusion, you still have a lot of internet sleuthing to do, so you open up a new internet tab.

One of the most important things you want to know about Daredevil is how real people feel about him. Published articles are always biased - it is in their nature to be based purely on who produces them - but social media lets the mass in on the conversation. You learned that well after the Attack on New York.

You remember the majority of the news singing praise for the Avengers and how they saved the Earth - which you truly did appreciate - but no one came and spoke to the people whose lives had been ruined. Sure, they talked about how much destruction had happened and how much it would cost to rebuild, but no one had mentioned how Hell’s Kitchen and Chelsea had been almost flattened. No one cared about the low-cost homes that had been destroyed or the poor people crushed in debris - not when they could talk about the Big Bank buildings the Hulk had run through. Why talk about those genuinely affected when you could bring in a mouthpiece who was halfway across the world?

Iron Man didn’t give two shits about the people whose lives he saved. If he did, he’d help them in the aftermath, and he didn’t. None of the Heroes did - they started going around the world while an uncaring government was left to clean up the mess. Repairs went to the lowest bidder and many things were deemed too expensive and just left to crumble.

But only internet forums and ten second social media videos talked about that.

Matt talks so passionately about helping people in Hell’s Kitchen, so you need to know if it is real, or just all a puff piece.

You look first into the forums and to your surprise, there is a whole section for New York vigilantes. You resist the urge to dive into the threads about Spider-Man and the Hero of Harlem and you have to scroll to the bottom of the front page to find something about Daredevil.

It is CCTV footage of Daredevil chasing off what looks to be some teenagers trying to rob a pawn shop and there are a few dozen comments under it. You smile as you start to read them - the majority of it is praise for Matt, with the few negative comments being about the quality of footage.

And each thread you find about Daredevil is like that. You expected to see issues with excessive force like you saw in the opinion pieces, but there is nothing. People who you can tell are locals all comment about how he doesn’t hurt kids, and his punishments reflect the severity of the crime. Muggers get a few good swats while those who commit domestic violence are given as good as they gave. It is gang members and real dangers who end up in the hospital. There are about a handful of posts giving firsthand accounts of how the Devil helped them - ranging from them being in serious danger to Matt helping a drunk woman safely get a cab.

From what you can see, the people who post in this forum like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and genuinely feel safer with him around. The site is a little niche, though, so you switch to a more popular platform to see if you can find different opinions and different opinions you find.

Just not the ones you expected.

There is a new picture of the Devil that has gained traction in his tag that is rather good quality - Matt is squatting on a roof, seemingly observing a street, and is framed in such a way to show off his lower half. His thighs, which you know are all muscle, are highlighted wonderfully and the angle of the photo only emphasizes his backside. His upper back and shoulders are all in shadow, but you can tell just how broad they are.

Twitter absolutely loves the image, and you think you have to agree with them. You can feel your cheeks heating up and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the screen.

Matt is beyond physically attractive, and it is no wonder the internet is lusting after him. There is a litany of lewd comments from multiple people and one made by a user with a cartoon frog as their profile picture has your core twitching and you quickly hide your face in your hands.

“imagine him bending you over a rooftop and fucking you until all you can do is drool ♥”

You don’t want to think dirty thoughts about Matt. It makes you feel awkward and guilty but mostly they make you Want, and you desperately want to bat that away.

You very obviously have slept with him before and know what a good lover he is. You know what his skin feels like against yours and your mouth goes dry at the memory of how loudly he moaned while between your legs. His stamina is no joke, and you can only imagine it has improved since he’s started being a vigilante.

You have no doubt he could easily fuck someone stupid.

You tell yourself you can’t think like this - you are supposed to be researching Daredevil to figure out how you feel about Matt being a vigilante - not ogling pictures of his ass and remembering your night together.

You gently smack your cheeks a few times and tell yourself to focus.

That only serves to make you more flush, so you make the executive decision that you have had enough screen time for the night and slam shut your laptop.

You have removed all the tags from the clothes, and you only have a few UPC stickers to pull off fake food, so you hurry through those so you can get to actually wrapping presents and not thinking about what you saw.

It is easy for you to get quickly lost in this new activity. Your perfectionist nature has you needing to make sure every crease is even and crisp and that each present looks picturesque, and you can't do that while distracted. Your thoughts shift from the way Matt’s breath felt against your skin to how many gifts Minnie has and how each one needs to look unique.

You know Minnie is going to tear through them like a wildfire, but it is important to you to make sure love is poured into everything.

You never got that as a child. Your birthdays were practical affairs and more often than not your present was to go clothes shopping, so you didn’t get to unwrap things or have that grand surprise. You don’t want that for Minnie. You want her to feel like an absolute princess on her special day and if that means rewrapping the same present four times to make it perfect, then that is what you will do.

You are finalizing bow placements on the gift bags you had to use for odd shaped items when your phone vibrates with an alert.

For a split second you are confused - it is rather late, and you’ve muted most app notifications - but then you remember Matt is meant to be coming over.

You don’t know how it could have slipped your mind and embarrassment burns through you.

How are you going to face him after staring at a picture of his ass until your brain broke?

You hesitate to check your phone, but when you do, you obviously have a text from him saying he is on his way. You groan to yourself, wondering how you can save yourself from this awkward situation?

Maybe you can go to bed early. You aren’t at all tired - you usually are up for another few hours - but you have a long weekend ahead of you. You will need rest.

In your bed.

Where Matt will not be.

Because, for the first time in a while, he will be sleeping on the couch.

Which you still need to prepare.

You finish fussing with Minnie’s bounty of presents and set about arranging them up the Happy Birthday banner like it is a Christmas tree. You have to resist your urge to nitpick and instead turn your focus to cleaning up your mess. You hurriedly shove the pile of trash you made into a bag so you can toss it and your wrapping supplies are tucked into the back of the closet, where they will live until you need them again.

You do a quick once over to make sure everything is neat and birthday ready before you fetch your spare pillow and blanket.

You try to not feel guilty as you start making up the couch. You know it isn’t the most comfortable and Matt will probably be sore after doing God knows what all night, but you can’t offer him your bed again. There is no reason for him to be in your bed. As frantic as you are, you don’t need any comforting.

You just need to stop thinking.

But not in that way.

“Stop,” you hiss at yourself. “Stop being a slut. Pure thoughts. Have pure thoughts.”

Scolding yourself does not work as well as you mean it to and all you can do is pour your concentration into folding and refolding the blanket. You roll it up tight first like it is a sleeping bag, then you think that is stupid, so you fold it into a triangle. You realize that is trying way too hard, so into a square it goes.

The knock at the door startles you and to your credit, you don’t scream.

You do, however, bury your face into your hands again and take a deep breath. You are panicking over nothing. Everything is just fine. You are overthinking.

You mentally chant that mantra as you go to the door. You hesitate to open it, needing the extra moment to center yourself, and you are surprised you don’t automatically close it again at the sight of Matt.

His normal daytime attire is a suit, and he wears them like a model, but you much prefer him dressed down as he is now. He’s in a t-shirt and joggers, with a five o’clock shadow and fluffed up hair, and he looks devastatingly handsome. He looks friendly and soft, but everything is just tight enough to show off how toned he is.

Your body reacts exactly like it did to the picture, but this time you can’t hide.

So, you run instead.

“Come on in,” you practically squeak out before hurrying to get out of his way. He’s got a gym bag with him - probably to carry his clothes for tomorrow - and your entryway isn’t the largest. It makes sense for you to go back to the living room.

“Busy night?” He asks as he closes and locks the door, and you are completely thrown by the question. You must make a confused noise, because he follows up with, “You are out of breath, is everything okay?”

Your heart starts to beat hard in your chest and you can feel your entire body getting hot. Of course, he can tell what is going on with your body and you are nearly in full panic mode.

You need to get to bed and away from him.

You fail at keeping your composure by gesturing around the living room, “Yeah - um - just been busy. Decorating and stuff - it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“It is,” Matt agrees, a charming and boyish smile creeping onto his lips. You tell yourself he must be excited for Minnie’s birthday and that is why he is in such a nice mood.

“How was..how was your night?”

He hums at the question, moving to set his bag down by the couch, “It was relatively quiet. With school starting up again and the heat, the younger crowd isn’t out. I made a few laps but didn’t find anything worth going after.”

“So, there isn’t like…crime every night?” You ask, trying to wrap your head around it all. You haven’t actually asked what a Patrol consists of, so you don’t know what the average one is like.

“Despite what everyone thinks, no. There’s a good number of nights where I just keep things tidy, but being out helps to deter people as well. Not every night is drug busts and gang wars.”

“That is good to know.” And it is - it helps to ease your anxiety that he is out there constantly boxing people. People say New York is crime ridden, but it is not nearly as bad as it is made out to be. It is all scare tactics and sensational news - like the Satanic Panic.

Matt hums again, then tilts his head back towards where you hung the birthday banner, “That is a lot of presents.”

His smile is still bright, and you have to duck your head and bite your lip to keep your mind in check. Your mouth, as always, is quick to quip, “I’m not telling you what is in them. It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise, huh?” He teases, before kneeling down by his bag and unzipping it. You can see colorful wrapping paper peeking through, and you instantly wonder what sort of gift is inside.

“A surprise,” you repeat. “It isn’t any fun if everyone knows what is inside before it is opened.”

“I’ll concede to that, even if it is tempting to peek.” As he says this he stands up, holding three different sized packages in his hands. They aren’t as pristinely wrapped as yours, but you can tell great care went into it and you wonder if Matt did it himself.

“Foggy said they will come over around noon,” he says like you aren’t on the verge of a crisis. “And Maggie was hoping we could stop by on the way to the park. I told her it would be up to you, but I know she has a few things for Minnie. We’re probably going to need to bring that wagon you got.”

The idea of so many people coming to your apartment for a party - especially a toddler’s birthday party - boggles your mind but your heart soars that so many people want to celebrate your daughter. You watch as he goes to add the gift pile and that confusing feeling swirls in your chest again, reminding you this is everything you ever wanted for Minnie. Matt being in your life means more people to love your daughter like she deserves.

“Okay,” you say because that is all your mind can produce. When Matt begins to stand again, you go into a panic thinking he might say something to start a conversation and blurt out, “I should get ready for bed.”

He turns to you, and you don’t know what to expect, but it is not for him to look bemused. He raises his eyebrows over his glasses and lets out a huff of a laugh, “It’s a big day tomorrow. You should get your rest.” He isn’t condescending or rude about it, but you can definitely hear the hint of teasing.

Your face burns as you nod and stupidly repeat, “It’s a big day.” You clear your throat to try and regain some composure and point towards the couch, “I, uh, left you out pillows and a blanket. The..uh..remote for the fan is on the coffee table. I readded the labels after Minnie tore them off.”

“Thank you,” he says with full sincerity, and you cannot take any more of his charm and muscular biceps.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” you tell him as you start to back up towards the bedroom. You know you should tell him about the fringe covering the hallway, but you just want to flee and hide under your covers until your brain stops all of its nonsense.

“Okay.”

As you finally let yourself turn away from Matt, he says your name just loud enough for you to barely hear it. You freeze in place, but it is like your blood is boiling inside you. You breathe out his name in response.

“Good night.”

((“I love you.”))

a/n: orz please take this offering of a chapter - my brain is not working up to standard.

Also - Tomorrow is a Big Day

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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silhouetteonpaper · 1 month ago

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Winter Warning

Summary: When a severe storm rolls around during the holidays, you’re hesitant to let your girlfriend go off on a mission. With New Years right around the corner, you don’t know if she’ll be back in time to celebrate one of the holidays you find most important. Natasha Romanoff x Reader (brief Steve appearance) WC: 1,390 Warnings/Themes: Fluff, slight angst A/N: Happy new year!! I wish you all the best in 2025 <3

The flurries of white nearly covered your entire view out of the New York apartment. Blankets of snow were falling onto the icy city streets that were now empty due to incoming weather warnings. One of the few times of the year where the bustling city noise suddenly disappeared. Out of all the reasons you and Natasha picked this apartment, the view was the most enticing one. A window overlooking the city that gave the cozy apartment a peek into the busy outer world, while still offering shield to the hustle and bustle. You also assumed the wide overlook gave Natasha a chance to keep an eye on things, but she’d never admit that.

Natasha, your girlfriend, was still hard at work as an Avenger. Crumbling cities and alien attacks didn’t just pause for the holidays—no matter how much you hoped they would. December passed in a blur of holiday cheer, each day filled with something fun and special as the two of you created new holiday memories. From picking out ornaments together, to baking new recipes, it was all you could ever hope for.

But the second each present was opened and the entire panettone was finished, Natasha was asked to join a last minute mission. Knowing the way her job worked, it was less of a request and more of a demand—but everyone was still in the lenient holiday mood. Natasha wasn’t one to argue, so off she went packing a duffel for what was supposed to be a couple days away from home.

It had only been a few months of the apartment being called home. Natasha was hesitant to use that word at first, especially when most of her life was stuck in various places across the globe. Once all her possessions were under one roof, it gave both of you some peace of mind. You were relieved to see her settling into this new space, and she was happy you were happy.

You were disappointed when hearing she had to leave home for a few days, but ultimately understood. After giving her a reluctant kiss goodbye, the clock for her return started ticking. Little did you know, she’d be gone more than just a few days. A tricky mission paired with severe snowstorm warnings threatened the next few weeks; you didn’t even consider what that meant until her car was long gone. You would be alone for New Years.

Maybe it was selfish to worry about being alone for a holiday that only celebrates the changing of a calendar, but Natasha knew how important New Years was for you. When she first met you, your warm personality was covered by the cold front you were forced to put up. An enemy agent only working under duress of the higher ups left you to follow tasks in fear of the consequences. But Natasha was intelligent, and knew how to break you down in order to complete her mission. What neither of you could’ve expected was the fearing girl you were underneath it all.

After all that happened, Natasha couldn’t help but take you under her wing. You were ready to change your ways, and staying with the kind redhead was far more appealing than a criminal organization. Besides, it’s not like any of them would dare to challenge Natasha when she stole you for herself. The rest was history; you both found solace in each other’s presence, filling in each other’s mission pieces.

The passing of time allowed you an opportunity to change as a person, to grow and move beyond your past criminal ways. The New Year was an important landmark as it meant you were not only another year forward from your rough past, but given yet another chance to start cleaner than before. Natasha understood this more than you knew, and made it a goal to support you in the face of a fresh start. Though this winter storm posed risk for Natasha’s presence at New Years.

A few other members of the team were still in New York, having been lucky enough to escape the fate of getting selected for the mission. Maybe they knew just how anxious you’d be, because five days after Natasha left, an Avenger appeared right on cue with a knock on your door. You stood from your cozy spot on the couch, looking through the peep hole to find a disheveled looking Steve in the hallway.

“Did you fall into an icy lake before coming up here?” You questioned as he shed his damp winter coat. He was carrying a few bags of groceries, some of your favorite snacks sitting on top. Natasha definitely texted him.

“There’s been three inches of snowfall in the last few hours. I think the universe is trying to bury us in snow.” Steve laughed, hanging his coat up by the door. He easily took notice of the nest you crafted on the couch, nearly every blanket in the house somehow piled around a you-shaped hole in the center. His silence told you he was worried—after all, he knew about the importance of the New Year for you.

“Any word on Natasha?” Although you had texted her every day, her responses only included so many details. Sometimes Nat herself didn’t even know when she’d be returning. Steve likely came from the compound, there was always a chance he knew more than you did.

But he shook his head, making you exhale disappointedly. “Nothing yet.” Steve shot you a sympathetic smile.

“Well, thanks for the groceries anyways.” You shrugged, eyeing the bags full of treats you would rather share with Natasha than enjoy on your own.

“Anytime,” Steve nodded, grabbing his now slightly less damp coat. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” You only nodded silently in response, watching as he left. Then you were alone, just like before. The truth was, you wouldn’t call anyone if you needed anything. The only person you wanted to call was Natasha, and she wasn’t available. So the only remaining option is to isolate yourself. Nat knew that was what you would resort to, which is why she likely asked Steve to stop by with something to cheer you up. A sweet gesture, but you wished it made you even the slightest bit better. Nothing could compare to the presence of Natasha.

—————

Fast asleep on the couch, tangled between five blankets all covering the worn cushions; the fire stoked and raging, offering even more warmth in contrast to the icy layer of blue just outside the window. You had stayed up for hours, just in case Nat came home in time for the New Year only a few hours away—but with your lack of sleep from previous nights spent awake, you didn’t stand a chance. By 9:00pm, you were out cold. Not even the lock clicking on the front door caused you to stir.

An exhausted redhead walked in, duffel bag landing softly on the table beside the raided bags of groceries you were too tired to put away. She smiled at the various open snacks, but nothing could compare to the grin spread across her face when she noticed you on the couch. All bundled up, your worried expression fallen in your sleeping state—yet Natasha didn’t have to see you in person to know how worried you were.

She pushed a few blankets aside, sitting next to you as she admired the peaceful apartment she was lucky enough to return to. Softly brushing stray hair out of your face, she hoped it would cause you to stir. “Hi my love.” You opened your eyes to red hair illuminated by the firelight. She looked ethereal, almost unreal. More than anything, you were grateful to see her.

“You’re back,” You exclaimed tiredly, hands softly attempting to pull her close. She nods with a chuckle, lying down behind you so she can wrap her arms around you fully. “Happy new year.” You spoke softly.

“Happy new year.” She whispered back into your ear. In the solace of each other’s arms, you both knew this year would be even better than the last. With each fresh start, you would always be beside Natasha. No matter how much you grew or who you became, the two of you would face it all together.

#marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #the avengers

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joequiinn · 4 months ago

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When the Wolfsbane Blooms | part ii | e.m. x reader au

Summary | September 1916. Edward Munson is back in Hawkins after 13 years, returning to live with his uncle who serves as groundskeeper to the Talbot Estate. Upon his return it’s as if nothing has changed... except the Talbot daughter, who wasn’t nearly so striking back when they were children. But a strange danger seems to coincide with Eddie’s arrival, and all it takes is one fateful night to expose him to exactly what this danger is…

Warnings & Notes | 18+, angsty horror romance, fem reader, depictions of violence and death, smut and nsfw themes, reader last name for plot purposes, use of some 3rd person narrative, historical inaccuracies

Author's Note | Thank you to everyone who has shown love for the fic thus far, this has been such a beast to work on, but I love every minute of it! I'm a little biased towards this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do 👀

WC | 12.5k

!! MINORS DNI !!

“... through no fault of your own…”

As planned, you ventured to the gardens post-supper, a book in hand to keep yourself preoccupied should Eddie be delayed. Your father seemed none the wiser to your plans, far as you could tell, unaware of your lilac dress in need of a cleaning, unaware of your evening rendezvous to come. As had become habit as you grew older, he visited the library for brandy and a cigar following your evening meal, and you went off to read either by the fire or on a bench amongst the rose bushes.

It was a comfortable existence, the one shared between the two of you, albeit also a lonely one. Your father was certainly capable of affection, but he was never good at showing it; for a man with a whirlwind of emotions constantly present in his eyes, he had the irritating habit of keeping them all to himself. He showed love and care from a distance, and you couldn’t begrudge him for that, although in your younger years it often left you wondering if perhaps there was something wrong with you.

For your entire life, it was always just the two of you and the half-dozen staff of the house - you never knew your mother, and your father was entirely disinterested in the prospect of ever taking another wife. In fact, it seemed as if sometimes he was fearful of the idea, as if there was some unseen danger in taking a new bride. He often seemed too preoccupied for such trivial things as romance, although what could possibly keep his mind so busy, you didn’t know even to this day; managing the estate and businesses was certainly a demanding task, but he’d always had staff and advisors to assist with such things. You figured that it was his emotions that wouldn’t allow him to commit his time to anything else, even something so simple as spending an evening by the fire with his daughter.

What he did make time for, frustratingly enough, was your recent engagement, made purely out of arrangement given your family’s position in society. You’d always known a convenient marriage was expected of you, despite the changing of society, but you’d also always hoped foolishly that you could put it off until you found a suitor on your own. But considering that you were already 24 years of age, the clock of expectation was ticking, and so your father had set up an engagement with a local family of similarly high standings.

The man was fine enough, from a decent family that wasn’t so stuffy that it made you want to rip your hair out. But he was terribly boring, completely and utterly incompatible with your wild ideas and your lust for life. It was evident that he didn’t quite see women as people - they were mothers or wives or daughters, they weren’t meant to have ambitions and aspirations. And as infuriating as that perspective was to you, you nonetheless thought you could at least tolerate such a man once you became his wife - after all, better he be boring than cruel, for boring could be ignored.

But with Edward Munson showing up after all these years away, suddenly you weren’t so confident in your tolerance for boring people.

You knew better than to become swept up in your childhood fantasies, you were logically aware of how silly you were to become excited at the mere prospect of Eddie as a concept. But you just couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t resist the ache you felt for your long-lost friend. Up until today, you admittedly hadn’t thought about him in a number of years; it’s not that he was ever truly forgotten, but you had accepted long ago that you two weren’t going to see each other ever again, and you had to become okay with that idea.

So, to have Eddie turn up entirely unannounced after all this time was a shock to your system, like the sensation of jumping into a freezing lake on a hot day; you were suddenly submerged in the thought of him, having dived in head first like a fearless child.

Now that you had Eddie back, you missed him so deeply, mourned the possibilities of what life would have been like had he stayed in Hawkins with you. And yes, you certainly knew that you were getting caught up in your excitement of finally having him home, but you also weren’t going to deny yourself the joys of his company. After all, it wouldn’t be long now until you were someone else’s wife - you may as well delight in your freedoms while you still have them, especially if those delights were in Eddie’s hands.

And so, you eagerly awaited his company, the sun low enough now that you could no longer read your book from where you sat. You could have moved closer to the house where light shined out through the windows, but you hadn’t been particularly interested in the novel to begin with; all while you’d been staring at the pages, your mind had been elsewhere.

So, you set the book aside and looked about, growing nervous as you anticipated Eddie’s arrival; you suspected that he was waiting until the sun had disappeared entirely beyond the horizon, nervous of being caught alone with you now that you both were all grown up. Since childhood, he’d feared the wrath of your father, especially after the day you two were found in the abandoned chapel - that was a terrifying and altering experience for you as well, so you certainly couldn’t blame Eddie for his reservations.

After that day, your father had never looked upon the boy in quite the same way, had never trusted you with him like he used to. He’d still let the two of you play together, but you weren’t to go beyond his sight, forced to keep to the gardens or the front lawn so that someone may always keep a watchful eye. And then only a short few years after that, Eddie was gone, and although he never said as much, you knew your father was relieved for it.

Something that had stirred your childish fears at the time was how that day at the chapel seemed to coincide with a spike of animal attacks in the area; you began to associate the two events in your mind, foolish as that may have been. The howling of a wolf at night would enter your dreams and turn them to nightmares, where you were trapped in the confines of the chapel and cornered by a monster. For weeks, this wolf seemed on rampage, attacking livestock and even going so far as to harm a few town citizens. But somehow, the animal was never caught.

Eventually, the danger faded away, eventually the attacks stopped and the cries of the animal no longer haunted you. But to your eight year old brain, it seemed the wolf was angered by your trespassing in the chapel, it seemed that you and Eddie had provoked it into such extreme violence; since then, you’d always secretly harbored a fear of wolves.

So, much like your irrational, childish fear of wolves, your father’s anxieties seemed utterly illogical to you. They’d led to disagreements and fights throughout the years, and to this day you never quite understand why he held such resentment towards your childhood friend.

Footsteps upon the stone path caught your attention and drew you out of your reverie; eagerly you jumped to your feet, heart fluttering in your chest with impatience. Although it was perhaps dumb, you ducked into the shadow of the nearest tree, your giddiness prompting you to behave so childishly, as if to make up for the times you two had lost. You listened and waited, hearing the careful steps come closer and closer until they were finally upon you.

Eddie hadn’t spotted you, pausing to pick up your book from the nearby bench, looking left and right in search of you; you held in a laugh as he continued forward, straining his neck as if that may help him find you faster. You ever so carefully tiptoed up behind him, mindful of the way your shoes would click against the path; you had one hand cupped over your mouth to maintain your silence, and once Eddie was finally within reach, you lashed out, quickly pressing your fingers into his sides to startle him.

“Eddie!” You whisper-shouted at the same moment, causing him to jump and exclaim with a harsh hiss, dropping the book he’d just picked up. He whipped around quickly to give you a reprimanding look as you laughed, pressing both hands to your mouth so that you wouldn’t be too loud. The startled furrow of Eddie’s brows made your laughter more raucous, and you doubled over, finding the whole thing far more amusing than it actually was.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile with an annoyed twist to his mouth, setting one hand atop your shoulder as he pressed an insistent finger to his lips, “Shh, I don’t want to be caught.”

You looked up at him through your lashes as you began to calm yourself, although giggles still escaped you as you feigned an innocent look. You gave his chest a comforting pat, your wide grin nearly comical.

“We won’t be caught.” You said with the utmost confidence, holding his eyes to make it clear just how certain of that you were. Eddie shook his head at your antics, but didn’t argue, his eyes sparkling with happiness in the moonlight. He picked up the fallen book, dusting it off carefully before holding it out towards you.

“Yours, I presume?” You smiled graciously, taking the book back and holding it close to your chest. For a long beat, the two of you simply drank each other in, silently admiring one another as if you were both works of art. Eddie cleared his throat, while looking down at his feet, meeting your eyes with a little more care, “Shall we?”

You nodded with a sweet smile, the expression only growing more dazzling when Eddie offered his arm for you; hooking your hand in the crook of his elbow, you gave him a surprised look, “When did you learn to behave like a gentleman?”

Eddie laughed with a dip of his head, the two of you aimlessly walking down the garden path, “Sometime between when I last saw you and now.”

You rolled your eyes at the answer, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. With no smart response, you suddenly found yourself growing nervous, although you weren’t sure why; perhaps you feared having nothing to say? Maybe you worried the silence meant this little fantasy would fall apart already? You bit your lip while glancing up at Eddie’s handsome face, wondering if similar fears weighed heavy on his brain.

“Did you miss me?” You blurted out, drawing his attention back.

“Well, you’re not very polite, are you?” Eddie teased with a snarky grin, which made your ears feel warm. You two were heading in the direction of the hedge maze, as if you both knew that’s where the other wanted to go. Sighing deeply, Eddie looked away from you, “Of course I did, especially that first year. There weren’t many friends to be had when every week we were in a new town… I thought about you often.”

He peeked at you bashfully, your warm smile making him nervous, “And after that first year?”

“I had to let you go.” Eddie shook his head as if the thought of it still upset him, still filled him with regret, “Couldn’t spend every day and night worrying over the girl I left behind.”

The sad way he said it made you smile with longing, recalling the wretched few months following his departure and how difficult that time was for you, “I missed you as well; for a while, life was so dreadful without your company.”

Approaching the maze, you considered all the things that had happened the past thirteen years, wondering how you could possibly catch Eddie up on all the things you wanted to share. You wanted to tell him about the time you dipped your toes into the pond only for a leech to grab hold of you; the time you’d meandered into the garden feeling so lonely that his uncle put a trowel in your hand and taught you how to properly dig up dead plants. Or perhaps of your studies of botany, a passion that always kept you company on quiet days.

A depleting thought crossed your mind then, and you stole a glance up at Eddie’s face in consideration - before things went on any further, before you hurt him or led him on, it was only right to mention your annoying little engagement. Feeling the burn of your eyes, Eddie paused and looked at you curiously, knowing your expressions so well that he knew something was irritating you quite suddenly.

“What, don’t tell me my company already bores you.” He teased with that playful grin, to which you couldn’t help but smile back at.

No, you didn’t want to ruin the moment when it had only just begun. So, you shook your head and gave his arm a light tug, continuing the walk into the hedge maze, “No, you could never bore me, Eddie.”

The two of you entered the cozy maze that you’d memorized together so many years ago; you had spent hours trying to find markers and hints as to which direction to go, running back and forth from the start to the end until the both of you could confidently make it through without any help from the other. You wondered if Eddie could still remember his way through the hedges just as well as you.

He guided you around the first familiar turn, and you smiled to yourself - he could remember that much, at least, even if it was muscle memory. As if he knew what you were thinking, Eddie paused and shot you a mischievous look.

“Did you think I forgot?” He leaned in towards you with a challenging gleam in his eyes; you nodded smally, “We spent countless days playing here together - my mind wouldn’t let me forget this maze even if I wanted to. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dreamt of it.”

Rising to the bait, you puffed up your chest a little, removing your hand from his arm, “Oh really? Well, in that case, shall we see who can complete it faster?”

Eddie laughed, his eyes spirited and daring, happy to engage in play, “And what is there to win for the one of us that proves victorious?”

Your heart skipped as if the question were provocative; you took a step closer to Eddie, nearly chest to chest as you gazed up through your lashes, whispering with an airy suggestiveness, “Perhaps that’s for the winner to decide.”

“You speak with such confidence - I hope it isn’t going to your head.”

“And you speak with such determination - I’d hate to see you lose.”

The air was tense as you smiled at one another like scheming children, Eddie eventually took a step back while crossing his arms, tongue wetting his lower lip. You rose your chin defiantly, brow arching as you awaited his response. Eddie narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, Miss Talbot.” He uncrossed his arms to reach into his coat and extract a pocket watch, “Let’s see if you’re up for the challenge. I’ll wait for you at the end of the maze and see just how quickly you can manage it.”

You looked between him and the simple silver watch, “And how will you know when to start the time?”

“Do you remember your bird calls?” The both of you nearly laughed at the question.

“I’m rusty, but I can manage. How do you know I won’t cheat the call, send out my whistle when I’m already halfway through?”

Eddie leaned down with a false threat, eyes piercing into yours as he whispered in a risque tone, “I’m trusting you.”

His voice made you shiver with excitement, but you tried to hide it, just as you tried to hide the way you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself, “Foolish.”

“No one’s accused me of being a fool before.” He pretended that he was offended, taking a flamboyant step away from you. You grinned like a cheshire cat, delighting in your banter.

“Then I’m pleased to be the first.” You teased, causing Eddie to narrow his eyes once more.

“Have you grown more troublesome since I left?”

“Oh, yes, I assure you that I have. Now, let’s start the race, Mr. Munson.” You two shared a playful look of disagreement before Eddie began to jog around the hedge maze, following its exterior walls towards the other side.

You waited impatiently until you heard the chickadee call that the two of you used to practice as kids, the sound making you laugh to yourself. Licking your lips while recalling how to properly make the familiar sound, you called back and began a mad dash through the hedge maze, scooping your skirts up into your hands so as not to trip in your hurry. You took the turns tightly, nearly stumbling over your shoes and loose rocks; the dark of the night made the depths of the maze harder to decipher, but your muscle memory kept you in line, determined to win this childish little race you were now in the midst of.

When you’d finally reached the end, you very nearly crashed into Eddie, who managed to catch you as you both stumbled a few feet. You breathed deeply while trying to catch your breath, your wild eyes meeting Eddie’s as you steadied yourself with your hands upon his chest. Eddie smiling widely back down at you.

“I forgot to check the time.” Your face dropped, balking at Eddie in disbelief. But only moments later, he broke out into impish laughter, giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze as you heaved a sigh of relief and slapped his chest.

“Not funny!” You scolded, although all conviction was lost considering that you were laughing along with him.

“Relax, will you?” Eddie held up the pocket watch, announcing your time to you as he placed it in your hand. With a charming grin, Eddie began the walk back around the maze, leaving you to wait for his bird call once more; you kept the clock face turned up to the sky so that the moon kept it illuminated.

Once the chickadee call met your ears, you kept your eyes trained on the watch, giddy to see if Eddie may possibly beat your time. The seconds seemed to move oh-so slowly since he wasn’t within your sight, and for a long while not even the sound of his footfall met your ears. But then you could hear the scuffing of shoes against stone and you began to grow nervous, worried that he would win this race with no real stakes.

Your time came and went, and a victorious grin spread across your face; moments later, Eddie came bursting out of the maze, stumbling much like you had as he skidded to a halt. You moved to him quickly, the self-satisfied look on your face causing him to narrow his eyes as he steady himself with hands upon knees.

“Don’t tell me you won.” He teased, your grin growing even wider as you took a dramatic, victorious bow, waving your hand graciously towards an invisible audience.

“Disappointment does not become you.” You taunted, to which Eddie rolled his eyes. He took back his pocket watch as if your hand burnt his, melodramatically acting up his dismay with groans and huffs, all the while you giggled at his silly display.

“Well, champion,” He leaned back into your space again, eyes alight with roguery, a wolfish grin on his lips, “what do you demand for your winnings?”

A wicked thought came to you, feeling your cheeks warm and your heart drum frantically, even as you tried to keep a cocky look upon your face. Eddie’s playful eyes were beginning to make you nervous, but you hoped your expression appeared just as spirited as his own, biting your lip to mask your nerves. You tapped your finger to your chin contemplatively, humming as if in deep consideration as you looked about the expanse of the lawns and gardens, anything to keep your eyes turned away from the dark of his gaze.

“I’m undecided.” You stated instead of your true answer, not quite courageous enough to share it. Abruptly, you began to jog down the hill’s slope which led to the lower lawns, full of that same nervous and excitable energy you always had as a child when Eddie was around. It felt a little foolish to act as if you were back to being little ones again, but you simply couldn’t help yourself, needing to let out all the giddy sensations that Eddie had stirred back up in you.

Eddie followed behind you with a call to slow down, catching up quickly and grabbing your arm; he spun you around to face him, his eccentric smile a perfect match for yours.

“We shouldn’t wander so far in the dark.” He insisted as he still held to your arm, looking back up in the direction of the mansion; from here, the hill obscured much of it from view, leaving only the upper floor visible to you.

“The dark holds no dangers to me.” You responded with a rascally tone, as if somehow you were untouchable. To reassure him, you added, “We will not go far.”

You took Eddie’s hand in your own as you continued your aimless trek - the lower lawns were home to less impressive gardens than those directly off the Talbot home, but as the explorer you were, they were always a delight to you. These were not gardens of flowers and exotic plants, but of fruits and vegetables, an orchard of trees with lovely offerings. Your personal favorites were the cherry trees, though they were not in season and, thus, they looked dull; but the apples, however, were truly thriving, growing so large and vibrant and aplenty, so you dragged your companion in that direction.

“Will you be helping with the gardens?” You asked, reaching out your free hand to graze the texture of leaves and apples and bark; the trees here had been growing so long that their branches were like a canopy above you.

“I will be doing anything asked of me - I’m lucky your father has even allowed me to return, given how much animosity he still seems to harbor for me.”

You furrowed your brows with disappointment; neither you nor your father brought Eddie up during supper, and so you had no idea what thoughts he now had about the young man, “You think he still harbors animosity?”

Eddie gave you a serious look, a sadness evident in his eyes even though you two wandered in near darkness; you were thankful for the moon, nearly full, for illuminating your way, “You weren’t there for the… odd conversations we had today; it seems he will never be trusting of me, nor will he ever come to like me.”

“Well, I like you, and that’s something he’ll simply have to live with.” Your tone was stubborn and defiantly and bratty, as if your own feelings could possibly sway those of your father; Eddie gave you a grateful look.

“Just don’t land me in trouble.” He said softly, knowing that even this simple act of walking together was something your father would frown upon, that it could be considered taboo for a woman of your status to be seen alone with a man like him.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, leaning in to him a little to rest your head atop his shoulder with an easy smile across your lips, “Fear not, I won’t cause any more trouble than I usually do.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at that, squeezing your hand back, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, “You are quite capable of stirring up trouble, dove, that answer is not particularly reassuring.”

“I suppose not.” You said with a giggle, delighting in the impromptu term of endearment - Eddie had certainly never called you ‘dove’ before in your youth, but oh, how you hoped he’d continue to say now.

You recalled all the crazy things the two of you had done as children, the headaches you had caused; Eddie had been a troublemaker as well, of course, having dragged you along on many risky adventures that you’d been scolded for later. But now, he seemed far more aware of his station, far more aware of the consequences that awaited adults who broke the rules that children could get away with.

Yes - you reminded yourself once more - you were both grown up now, and could not get away with play and stories the way that you used to. You could no longer be seen together without raising eyebrows, you could no longer laugh and run and joke without propriety being questioned. It was a dismal realization to know that any and all interactions with Eddie would now be scrutinized, by both peers and staff and your father alike. The thought made you sigh with woe, eyes drooping as you considered all the things the two of you could no longer do lest you face the judgments of those around you.

Decidedly, you stopped and turned to face Eddie, who gazed down at you with curiosity. You confidently met his gaze, even as your heart drummed nervously, setting your face into a look of strong resolve; knowing that things were different now, you had to enjoy every single moment together that you could, “The winner has decided the prize she’d like to claim.”

Eddie’s brow rose, a tickled smile befalling his lips at your unexpected announcement, “Has she?”

You nodded, feeling yourself growing cold with anxiety even as your cheeks warmed with bashfulness. Taking a steady breath, you gently placed your hands on the front of his shoulders, watching his eyes glance down before meeting yours with some trepidation; you paused there for a moment to bolster yourself, unwilling to back down, a nervy smile gracing your lips as your eyes softened.

“I want you to kiss me, Edward Munson.”

You felt his gasp rather than hear it, felt the way his shoulders tensed at the softly spoken request; his expression became skittish, his eyes jumpy as they looked about your face for a lie. You held your ground, not shrinking under his gaze or backing down, even as your resolve began to feel shaky, nerves growing in rapid succession.

Your name was a sweet whisper falling off his lips, the sound making you shiver as the moment weighed on you. You stared at him with longing, fearful that he’d reject you, that he’d succumb to the pressures of a society that wouldn’t want you two to be together. But to your surprise, Eddie delicately cupped your cheeks, even as his eyes seemed apologetic and doubtful, looking between yours as if waiting for you to stop him before you did something neither of you could take back.

“I shouldn’t…” He spoke oh-so softly; you shook your head gently in defiance.

“I don’t care.” Your answer was equally small, as if even you feared being caught, “I may not be able to have you amongst society, but when we’re alone, you’ve always been mine.”

Eddie’s eyes dropped to your lips, staring with such longing that you practically melted right then and then. As if he could tell the thoughts running through your mind, the corner of his mouth turned up in that charming grin of his, a huff of a laugh escaping him. And that seemed to be all the catalyst he needed, because in the next breath Eddie dipped his head down to capture your lips carefully with his.

His kiss was so tender and chaste, his fingertips curving a little tighter against your jaw. As a sigh left you, all your nerves seemed to melt away with it, your body relaxing against Eddie’s as your hands trailed up to clasp at the back of his neck. Your lips were timid, as if still held back by the disbelief that Eddie was back after all this time, disbelief that he was here with you and you got to kiss him exactly as you wanted to on the day he left.

Eddie pressed closer to you, deepening the kiss as his hands trailing down your neck, your arms, to your waist; the feel of his gentle touch caused your whole body to spark and shiver, your fingers curling into the hair at the base of his skull as an unladylike sound of satisfaction hummed in your throat. You could feel the curve of his smile against your lips, the way his hands squeezed your waist as if spurred on by your moan, and it only made you want him more.

Assertively and a little clumsily, you pushed against Eddie, practically tripping over your feet as you urged him to back up into the nearest tree truck, the bark scratchy against his shoulder blades though he was far too preoccupied to notice.

Your lips were demanding against his, body flush to him as your confidence mounted, Eddie’s arms warm as they encircled you as if fearful of letting go. Your hands became feverish, tugging at his hair, gripping at his neck, holding tight to his shoulders; you wanted to be everywhere at once, to somehow make up for all the time lost in the span of a single kiss.

Eddie’s tongue was wet against your lower lip, a pleasureful gasp escaping you as you opened your mouth to him, grateful for his arms around you as you began to feel weak in the knees. A primal sound rumbled deep in his chest, a growl that made you tingle all over, that made your hands tighten against him. With his arms holding you tight, Eddie leaned into you in a way that forced your back to arch, practically dipping you in his eagerness. Your chest felt as if it were going to burst open, your heart drumming out an excited tattoo, your limbs tingling with electricity.

But then suddenly a howl cried out from the distance, loud enough and frightening enough to make you gasp while abruptly breaking the kiss with Eddie. You whipped your head out towards the wilderness, Eddie’s nose pressed to your cheek as he attempted to catch his breath. The cry of the animal rang out again, sounding closer and more provoked; your eyes widened as you gazed out towards the north, which seemed to be the direction of the danger.

“It’s alright…” Eddie whispered airily, his breath hot against your skin. His hand reached up to gently cup your cheek again, turning your startled gaze back to him; his eyes were dark and lustful as they stared deeply into yours.

“No…” Your voice was also light with breathlessness, chest rising and falling against his, “That was a wolf.”

Eddie made a face as if confused by your concern; you were reminded in that moment that he’d been away for such a long time.

“I was told there were no more wolves around here.” You started, straightening up although you kept yourself securely pressed against Eddie’s warm body. You spoke a mere inch away from his lips, each word a hot breath against his skin, “They’d been hunted to extinction, supposedly; at least that’s what father told me.”

Eddie smiled, his lips brushing against yours, “And you always listen to what your father says?”

You rolled your eyes, still wondering if you’d hear the wolf’s call again; despite the nervous beating of your heart, you ever so delicately kissed Eddie again, “You know I don’t… but we haven’t seen wolves in years… it seemed they disappeared after you left.”

Eddie’s slight laugh vibrated against your chest, the feel of it helping to settle your nerves, “So, it was I who drew them away from Hawkins?”

You grinned fondly at him, slowly beginning to feel at ease as you pressed your fingers tenderly against his skin, “Now that sounds just like one of your stories.”

“Perhaps it is true,” Eddie started with an eager tone, pulling back from you so that he could grab your hand and begin to drag you through the rows of orchard trees, as if he had a destination in mind that you weren’t privy to. You giggled smally while trying not to trip over your feet, “Perhaps they’ve been on the hunt all this time, and I’m the thing they seek. They followed me across the country, stalking closely, but I’m no easy prey to catch, and I always evaded their grasp.”

Coming to the edge of the orchard, Eddie melodramatically threw his free arm in the air, as if presenting the expanse of the dark woods and the beautiful, bright moon to you, “And so they continue to follow, all the way back home - but the wolves will never catch me!”

The last statement was shouted out into the wilderness as if Eddie were daring the creatures to come to him, and as you joyously laughed, you once again saw the boy who explored nature with you, the boy so fond of telling stories to his adoring audience of one.

But then a wolf’s howl sounded back, and the perfect timing froze you, a chill creeping up your spine as your wide eyes looked between Eddie and the vast woodland nearby. Even Eddie - so fearless just moments ago - looked spooked as he stared into the darkness of the trees, gaze unblinking as if a predator may present itself any moment now. His grasp on your hand squeezed tight as he protectively pulled you closer into his side, a shaky breath escaping him as he waited for the creature to call out again.

“We should go back.” You leaned into his neck so he could hear your whisper, feeling the way he slowly nodded in response. That last cry had been even closer than before, and it made you both edgy. The likelihood of a wolf attack was slim, and for all you knew the sound of its howls were simply echoing to seem near, but neither of you was stupid enough to risk it.

So, you both cautiously backed up a few feet before Eddie spun you around, quickly escorting you back through the orchard, up the sloping hill, into the garden that lined the entire backside of Talbot Manor. You didn’t stop until you were safely at the edge of the hedge maze, and then further still Eddie dragged you into the cozy confines of its tall bushes. After twisted a few paces into the maze, Eddie finally stopped, looking down at you as if you were a porcelain doll he feared breaking.

In an effort to reassure you both that all was well, Eddie cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing lightly along the apples of your cheeks; you stared at each other for a long minute, relaxing now that you were seemingly away from danger. The shine of the moonlight in Eddie’s eyes made you smile contently, and as if he saw as much, he leaned in to capture your lips with his once more.

Eddie kissed you with such ardent tenderness that you feared your knees may buckle beneath you; you lightly hooked your hands on his elbows to keep steady. How could this be so easy, this spark between you two that reignited in no time at all? Was it simply nostalgia that drew you like a moth to a flame? You so desperately hoped it was more than that, that the two of you weren’t just getting caught up in the excitement of Eddie’s return.

You slowly pulled your lips from his, pressing your foreheads together as you buzzed from head to toe. The silence between you two was calm, like a kind of enchantment that you couldn’t help getting swept up in.

But as your breaths mingled, a nagging voice sounded in the back of your head, your conscience reminding you that you were an engaged woman running around with a simple mechanic. Your brow furrowed, wishing you could just send the thought away without a concern, but you knew to be better than that.

You pulled a little further from Eddie so that you could meet his eyes, your expression anxious and somber; it took him a few moments to notice, his own look going from lively to worried as he studied your face.

“What is it, dove?” He asked, thumbs rubbing circles on your cheeks again. You pressed your lips firmly together while swallowing, fighting off your nerves; you knew what needed to be done, even if you didn’t want to be the one to do it.

“Eddie…” You cupped his hands in yours before gently pulling them away, taking a tense step back that caused doubt to flash across his face. You shook your head at yourself with a sigh, “There is something I should’ve told you.”

Oh, how tempted you were to run deeper into the hedge maze, to hide instead of confront the truth and break Eddie’s heart in the process. Your tongue felt heavy now that you had to say those damned words, and as you kept your eyes locked on Eddie, you could see his trepidation, as if he already suspected what you were about to say.

So, you bit the bullet before your nerves could win out again, “I’m engaged.”

You could see the exact moment his eyes dulled and his heart became heavy, feeling instant regret beginning to stir in you. If only you hadn’t said it, if only you could simply whisk that statement away - anything to bring a smile back to his lovely face.

As Eddie’s gaze dropped from you, you took a step back towards him, although you had to keep yourself from gently grabbing him, knowing your comfort most certainly wasn’t wanted right now. Nonetheless, more words spilled out of you, as if that could make things better.

“If I had known you were coming back, I would’ve found a way to prevent this. God, Eddie, if I could’ve just predicted you’d return, I wouldn’t have let this happen.”

Eddie sighed deeply, his jaw flexing; you couldn’t tell what he was feeling, as the look on his face was one you’d never quite seen before. Was it anger or pain or sadness or confusion?

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, unable to look away now that you’ve hurt him.

Eddie bit his lip, keeping his eyes on the ground as if he were still processing this information, his head shaking slightly at all the thoughts that must have been going through his mind. Unexpectedly, he whispered back with hoarseness, “I’m sorry, too, dove.”

Your brow furrowed as Eddie met your eyes again, his gaze appearing black in the darkness, which made him nearly frightening. What did he have to apologize for, he wasn’t the one who hurt you, after all.

The corner of his mouth pulled up, although there wasn’t any amusement to the expression, “I shouldn’t have come tonight - I gave us both too much hope.”

“But you are not the one who kept a secret.” You replied apologetically, “You are not the one who demanded a kiss and then broke the other’s heart.”

Eddie stared at you for a long, tense beat, “You’re right. And yet, somehow, I feel as if I’ve landed you in trouble once again.”

Your lips parted, but you didn’t make a sound, looking between Eddie’s eyes as you still tried to figure out what was going on in his mind. A weak, distressed laugh left you, a sound of disappointment as you tried to center yourself.

“Were we simply getting caught up in all of this?” You vocalized the fear you’d held the entire night, the fear that maybe your guileless excitement might fade away and you two would be left with nothing but old memories. Eddie’s stare remained unreadable for what felt like an eternity, and you began to feel antsy beneath his dark eyes.

He took a cautious step towards you, your heart catching in your chest as you watched him carefully. Each step taken made you more nervous, and yet you stayed firmly planted where you stood. You felt static all throughout your body as you waited, a shaky breath passing your lips as Eddie came close and dipped his head down towards yours. For a moment, you thought perhaps he’d kiss you again in spite of it all, but instead his eyes locked with yours, gaze dark and heavy with a depth of emotion that you wished you could begin to understand.

“I hope that this is no folly.” Eddie whispered longingly before straightening up. He backed up from you, his expression growing tender as he drank you in, the confusing weight of all these feelings adding pressure on his mind; once he had put what he deemed a safe distance between you two, he smiled sadly, “Good night, Ms. Talbot.”

And just like that, he walked off, long legs carrying him so quickly that it was almost like a magic trick. You stared at the spot he once stood, sighing with sadness and longing; how you so hoped this wasn't the end of things for the two of you, as it felt they had only just begun.

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Eddie had managed to keep his distance for three days following that night, busying himself with tasks and chores that would ensure he didn’t have to run into you. Assisting Wayne in the gardens, cleaning up the mess of a garage, running into town with one of the maids to purchase goods - anything was better than having to see you and that forlorn, longing look in your eyes.

Eddie was foolish to have assumed that coming back to Talbot Manor would be easy, that he’d be able to fall back into his old routines as if nothing had changed. He’d become so very swept up in you so damn fast that he hadn’t even considered a boyfriend or fiance or husband could be a factor that would keep you apart; why that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, he didn’t know. But he certainly should have known better than to cave to the excitement you both felt, and yet he had done so anyway.

It was easy enough to stay away from you, but what wasn’t so easy for Eddie was the temptation to watch you when you thought no one was looking. There’d been so many times over the course of these days when he’d spot you meandering the garden while he was out in the field or lazing about the porch while he was in the cottage cleaning up after a day of hard work. The first time it happened, Eddie assumed you saw him too, for how could you not notice him cleaning up scraps in the vegetable garden while you walked the orchard? But you always seemed to be lost in some reverie, and he would get lost in watching the beauty that was you.

After three days of managing this, Eddie thought he’d be okay, that he’d find enough distractions to help him abandon his childhood crush that he was foolish to hold on to in the first place. Doing so meant that he’d have no trouble with Sir Talbot, it meant that you could go into your future marriage without the burden of his feelings on your shoulders. Perhaps all would be well, and the two of you would carry on with your lives as if you’d never seen each other again to begin with.

On the eve of that third day, Eddie was lying in bed when a wolf’s howl caught his attention, the sound strangely enchanting to him. At first, he startled slightly, for the night had been silent up till that point; he waited patiently to see if perhaps the call had woken his uncle, if Wayne was perhaps stirring in the cottage’s single bedroom. But the older man was still snoring soundly, and so Eddie tried to roll over and sleep despite still feeling wide awake.

But the animal called out again, and it filled him with a sense of foreboding. Perhaps it was because he remembered your reaction to the wolf that first night, the confused fear that flashed across your eyes; you had said wolves were supposed to be extinct around here, after all. Eddie allowed his curiosity to win out his logic, rising from the cot and going towards the nearest window, wondering if perhaps he could somehow catch sight of the animal; he lingered and lingered there at the window, but as the minutes passed, nothing happened.

As Eddie turned his back, though, another howl rang out, this time sounding closer than any of the previous ones; it sent a chill up his spine, wide eyes looking out into the night and up at the bright full moon overhead. Why was it that wolves seemed drawn to the full moon, he found himself wondering as he, too, became briefly mesmerized by the beacon of light.

There was yet another cry from the creature - Eddie had grown far too curious why the wolf seemed so damned worked up tonight. Letting this get the better of him, he scooped up his trenchcoat, a lantern, and Wayne’s shotgun, slipping into a pair of shoes and carefully stepping out into the night. He paused on the front step, eyes carefully looking about just to make sure the wolf wasn’t possibly upon him; once he deemed it safe, Eddie began to walk out towards the gardens.

He wasn’t expecting to have any kind of confrontation with the animal, and yet he couldn’t help the compulsion to explore. As he swung a wide berth around Talbot Manor, Eddie glanced up at the windows, drawn to the lights still shining out of a couple of them - one being your room, although he tried to ignore that thought.

The wolf called to him again, Eddie’s eyes roaming across the expansive grounds with a furrowed brow; just like the first night, it seemed the animal was howling from the north, as if it were hiding deep in the woods out there. Why Eddie felt such an impulse to chase after the creature, he didn’t know - it was fruitless at best, and dangerous at worst. But he couldn’t resist this sudden fixation, couldn’t resist the pull of mystery.

So, Eddie wandered, mindful of his surroundings as he went, passing by the flower gardens and the vegetable gardens, down a walking path that led to the Talbot woodland; he paused at the edge of the trees, knowing that he’d be foolish to continue forward. He should turn around, he knew, go back to the safety of the cottage and ignore the lively cries of the wolf; the animal was almost certainly far enough away from the home not to pose any danger. But before going back, Eddie lingered at the edge of the wood, the darkness like a wide open mouth and the trees like sharp teeth.

Movement off to his left caused Eddie to start, inhaling sharply as his wide eyes looked about for a sign of something. He slowly turned in a careful circle, grip tightening on the shotgun in hand; he was comfortable enough with using it, having accompanied Wayne on hunts, but he didn’t want to shoot bullets out into the quiet night if he could avoid it.

A rustle in the underbrush, and Eddie looked back into the dark of the trees; for all he knew, it was just an innocent squirrel or even a deer, but that didn’t stop his heart from beating wildly in his chest. He took steady steps backwards towards the safety of the Talbot property, cautious of his surroundings, mindful of any peculiar sound. Leaves crunched under his feet, each crinkle spiking his nerves; if there were a wolf nearby, would it not have already shown itself, would it not have already lunged at him like the easy prey he’d made himself?

Eddie gasped, thinking he saw eyes somewhere in the shadows, bright and clear and far too level with his to be the height of a wolf. But just as quickly, that hint of light was gone, although the scare was enough to make his blood run cold. He froze for a few tense moments, swallowing as he waited to see if the supposed-eyes would reappear; his gut told him that there was something there within the woods, something that he shouldn’t turn his back on.

But when no strange sounds or sights made themselves known after a prolonged, strained minute, Eddie began to move again, taking long strides backwards. His eyes were unblinking as he continued to stare into the endless dark, hearing the anxious pumping of his blood flowing in the otherwise silence.

And then another cruel howl followed by a frightening snarl sounded from before him, causing Eddie to shout out in fear, tripping over his suddenly frantic feet and falling heavily onto the wet grass. He began to scramble backwards, wide-eyed stare searching the woods in a panic; he wasn’t certain why he felt it, but it seemed that the animal was mocking him, that it had waited for just the right moment to give him the scare of his life.

Pushing himself back to his feet with fraught stumbles, Eddie abandoned caution and ran up the hill as fast as humanly possible; he didn’t care if presenting his back would prompt the wolf to chase after him, he needed to put distance between him and the woods, between him and the dangerous animal. His arms pumped wildly, coattails flying behind him as the lantern swung heavily in his hand; he was almost certain he heard heavy footfall over his shoulder, but he didn’t dare look back.

Eddie practically crawled up the slope of the hill, pushing his legs even harder once he’d reached the upper gardens, daring to glance around as he ran madly past Talbot Manor. With the mansion looming tall and imposing, comforting in its own strange way, Eddie finally decided to shoot a frenzied look behind him - but when there was nothing there following him, he slowed so abruptly he nearly skidded to a fall, his expression bewildered.

Steadying himself, Eddie tried to catch his breath as his eyes darted around in every direction; there was no wolf, no monster, nothing except the creeping evening fog and the ever familiar gardens. Eddie made a strained sound of exhaustion and frustration, spinning in every direction just to make sure he was, in fact, safe and alone; a pathetic laugh escaped his throat as he threw his head back, feeling both relief and confusion in tandem.

He couldn’t have been imagining things, could he? There was most certainly something in the woods with gleaming eyes, there had to have been something chasing him simply to taunt him - he couldn’t possibly have been so confused that his mind made that up. His chest heaved, the air cold enough that he could see his breath, and suddenly Eddie felt another shiver of fear course through him.

“Eddie!” A voice sharply hissed, causing him to startled and look about himself; with the manor off to his side, Eddie saw you sticking your head out the window, your confusion clear under the light of the full moon.

Your eyes were alight with concern as you gazed down upon the frantic man, the night air gently blowing your hair about your face. Eddie’s face was drawn with fright, eyes wide and terror-struck - it was an expression you hadn’t seen on him since childhood, since that day when you two snuck into the abandoned chapel. You looked at your family’s sprawling property, eyes trailing from the gardens to the woodlands out towards the direction of Hawkins; you saw nothing of alarm, but Eddie’s energy certainly had you spooked.

You returned your worried gaze to his face, trying not to raise your voice too much to draw attention, “What’s going on? I heard you shout.”

Eddie shook his head, still breathing heavily through his mouth as he stared up at you, “There’s something in the woods.”

“The wolf?” You asked, having also heard the creature’s cruel howls; you shivered, worried that perhaps the animal was growing bold, that it was going to start lurking around your home.

“I don’t know if it’s a wolf.” Eddie answered gravely, making your blood run cold. Your distressed gaze once again roamed around, hyper aware of anything that may seem out of place; but there was nothing to be seen aside from an owl flying above the trees.

“Eddie…” Your eyes softened as you stared down at your friend, “… Come up.”

He appeared taken aback by the request, looking at the vines and the trellis and the ornate architecture of Talbot Manor; back in the day, he’d learned how to climb up the side of the structure with ease, using the accents and the lattices as grips to bring him all the way to your window. But, of course, that was when he was a spry young boy; for all he knew, he wouldn’t be able to make that same climb now that he was a man. He gave a shake of his head.

“Either you come up or I come down.” You said firmly; you’d known he’d been avoiding you for three days, and considering the strange circumstances of this evening, you couldn’t do with any more time apart from him.

Eddie considered your words, looking about himself once more before sighing heavily, carefully stashing his gun and lantern in the nearby bushes. You tried not to smile too eagerly as he carefully looked the wall up and down as if he were planning his climb. Once he started the trek up, you stepped back from your window to grab your robe, uselessly wrapping it around yourself before returning to the window and pushing things out of the way.

You could hear Eddie grunting with effort, and so you stuck your head back out for a moment, nearly surprised at how quickly he was making the climb; you grinned a little at the expression he gave you, a boyish vexed delight.

Eddie tugged himself up and into the room, huffing as he found his footing; you closed the window behind him, leaning your rear against the sill as you contently looked him up and down. Eddie turned to face you, the low light of the room accentuating the planes of his face; you crossed your arms as you carefully looked him over.

“Are you alright?” You asked quietly, eying the mud on shoes, the grass on his coat.

Eddie nodded, “More spooked than anything…”

You bit your lip nervously, pushing off the windowsill and taking careful steps towards him, “You said… you don’t know if it was a wolf?”

An unamused laugh escaped Eddie, who rolled his eyes at himself, “I know that that must sound crazy of me.”

You quickly shook your head, gently setting your hand on his arm, “No, you were scared, that doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

Eddie eyed your hand, the way your fingers carefully squeezed the fabric of his coat. He seemed to deflate a little, dropping his head, “It seemed too big… but if not a wolf, I haven’t a clue what it could be.”

You stepped even closer, placing your other hand on his arm as well, your brow furrowed attentively, “It couldn’t have been a bear, could it?”

Eddie shook his head again, eyes seeming a little glazed over as he recalled the last ten minutes, as he tried to find details in his memory that he may have missed the first time, “Didn’t sound like a bear. But maybe I’m just confused.”

He exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his shoulders thanks to the comfort of your presence; for the time being, any conflict between you two was forgotten.

Seeing how confused and tired Eddie seemed, you guided your hands up his arms and to his cheeks, your touch gentle and caring as you two stared at one another, “Maybe you are, but we both know you weren’t imagining things - I heard it, too.”

Eddie looked between your eyes in consideration, searching your expression as your thumbs began to rub comforting circles on his jaw. He leaned into the touch a little, breathing steadily in and out as more of his anxious energy began to melt away. Eddie’s eyes became hooded the longer he stared at you, and at the same moment you were both reminded of the fact that you hadn’t seen each other in days, that you hadn’t spoken since his first night back, that being alone together in your private room was a far more intimate thing than either of you should have allowed.

You dipped your head a little, voice quiet, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Can you blame me?” Eddie countered in a similarly small tone, dejection weighing on his shoulders. He was nervous to touch you despite that being the only thing he wanted, nervous to let his guard down again and continue this taboo that you two had begun.

“The engagement wasn’t something I ever wanted,” You continued to whisper, drawing yourself close enough to Eddie so that you were nearly chest-to-chest, “I would’ve happily become an old maid awaiting your return if I had thought it possible, but father wanted to make sure I was cared for should anything happen, and people began to talk about my age as if I was already too old, and--”

Eddie abruptly wrapped his arms around your middle, his lips crashing down on yours like waves upon a shore, a surprised little sound leaping out of you as you tensed up. But just as quickly, you melted into him, kissing Eddie back as if his taste was intoxicating, clinging to his warm body as if fearful of losing him again. His hands upon you were wild and desperate as they squeezed and pressed you close, his mouth hot and wicked as he kissed you as if you were a lifeline.

Your arms snaked around his neck as you kissed him back fervently, your heel lifting off the ground as you moaned into Eddie’s lips. His grip on your body was rousing, his hands feeling every inch of you that he could, memorizing you with his fingertips. It felt an impossible task to break away from him, but you did so abruptly, realizing for a moment that you forgot how to breathe due to the severity of the kiss.

Your noses brushed as you gasped for air, Eddie’s lips close enough that you could still feel them teasing against yours. His eyelashes tickled your skin, prompting you to pull back just far enough to meet his lustful gaze.

“I can’t stop myself around you,” He admitted breathlessly, chest heaving in time with yours, “I have to stay away lest we both end up in trouble.”

“I don’t want you to stay away,” You whispered against his lips, fingers affectionately playing with the hair at the base of his skull, “You were away from me long enough. I don’t care if we’re just being foolish, or if we’re hung up on the past; you’re back, Eddie, and I’m not going to let you go again.”

“Dove…” He muttered the nickname as if it were sacred, “When the time comes that this must come to an end, you better push me away.”

You shook your head smally, firmly grabbing his cheeks again as you stared into his dark eyes, “I’m too selfish for that.”

Eddie chased your lips, capturing them in another chaste kiss, “Then we’re both fools just asking for trouble.”

“So be it.” You kissed him back assertively, longingly, with all that pent-up desire you’d been holding onto for so many years. Eddie breathed desperately, tongue snaking its way into your mouth with an eager groan. You felt like you were on fire as you pressed up against him, relishing in the feel of his body reacting in time with yours, his hands groping feverishly, his hips flush against your own.

Blindly, Eddie tried to guide you in the direction of something, anything that he could prop your body against so he could lavish you; you smiled into the intense kiss as you two tripped over your own feet, your rear finally bumping into your vanity and making everything on top fall over or roll off. You broke the kiss briefly to giggle at it, Eddie’s eyes alight with amusement as he shushed you.

“Be careful.” You whispered with another small laugh, kissing him wistfully as he helped scoop you up so you could sit upon the vanity tabletop. Pressing himself between your legs, Eddie’s hands delighted in the feel of you, pushing your thin robe from your shoulders, fingertips grazing over your bare arms. You shuddered at his touch, back arching, which only urged Eddie to continue to explore you, hands ever so gently drawing an invisible line from your breasts down to your thighs.

He began to tug at the material of your nightdress, fighting with the fabric just so he could expose more of your skin; as your ankles, your calves, your knees became exposed to the air, another chill ran through you. Eddie’s hand ran down the length of your calf, fingers hot and the metal of his rings even hotter, each touch sending you into a frenzy. Pushing the skirt up over your knees, his fingers squeezed your thighs with greed, goosebumps breaking out across your sensitive skin.

Eddie pulled away from your lips to meet your gaze again, eyes hooded and dark as they burned into yours. You salaciously smiled at the lustful look on his face, wanting so desperately to drag his lips back to yours, barely able to contain the hunger you felt for him. His hands continued to squeeze your legs, and when he pressed his hips against yours, you whined at the feel of his erection at your hot center, the layers of clothing between you nearly offensive. The needy sound in your throat made Eddie throb between your legs, and impulsively you rolled your hips against him, watching his eyes practically cross with pleasure.

An eager, breathy laugh left your mouth, prompting Eddie to plant another firm kiss to your lips. You haphazardly shoved at his coat, so he pulled back and quickly dropped it to the floor behind him, hands going right back to your body as if he couldn’t stand being away from you. Instead of returning to your lips, Eddie trailed kisses along your neck, from under your jawline all the way down to your collarbone, inhaling your scent with an animal excitement. Your fingers twisted in his hair, head thrown back as you delighted in the feel of his hot mouth against your skin.

Eddie’s hands returned to your thighs, an annoyed grumble sounding in his throat as the fabric of your drawers kept him from enjoying the feel of your sweet skin. Again, you couldn’t help but laugh airily, delighting in his desperation to touch you, to which Eddie gave you a hungry glare. With a huff, he pushed your skirt out of the way, fingers trailing along to the upper trim of your drawers, assertively tugging them down your legs in one quick move.

A shock of electricity jumped through your nearly exposed body, panting as Eddie tossed the garment aside and returned to you, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you zealously. You impatiently felt along every inch of his body, relishing in the flex of his muscles beneath your hands, the way he tensed as you dipped your fingers into the hem of his trousers; his erection twitched against your thigh, making you feel hot all over as you moaned.

Eddie drew his face away from you, to which you chased after his lips as if you were starved; he smiled tenderly as he held you back for just a moment, meeting your amorous eyes and searching them. Without having to say the words, his look was a question, seeking the assurance that this is what you wanted; you bit your lip with a small nod, practically throwing yourself at Eddie in your wanton desire to touch and be touched.

As you planted sloppy kisses along his lips and jaw, Eddie fumbled with his pants, knuckles brushing your inner thigh which sent a tingling jolt up your spine. He grabbed your legs, fingers squeezing hungrily into your skin as he tugged you closer to the end of the vanity, causing more items to clatter off as you gasped at being pulled.

Eddie gave you a wicked grin before kissing you deeply, savoring the sensual taste of you. He maneuvered, hips snug between your legs as his cock grazed your inner thigh, so, so close to your entrance that it made you keen; he grabbed himself, knuckles brushing along your folds and sending another chill through you. You moaned into his mouth, lips more insistent against his as you steadied yourself with one hand propped behind you and the other securely holding Eddie’s shoulder.

He broke away from the kiss again so he could look you in the eyes, his gaze sultry and tantalizing as he positioned his tip to press up against you, drawing another lewd, impatient mewl from your mouth. As Eddie eased slowly into your heat, the noise that left your lips was utterly sinful, forcing him to cup a hand over your mouth, his commanding expression utterly provocative as you clenched around him. He held in a groan of his own, the sound rumbling low in his chest once he was hilt deep inside you, the size of him making your eyes roll back with ecstasy, your mouth hanging open in bliss.

Eddie stayed perfectly still for just a moment to compose himself, the sight and feel of you was so damn overwhelming that it made him feel like a virgin all over again. And, god, the way you looked back at him with your body wound tight like that was so erotic, he had to be careful not to wake the whole damn house.

Hand still gently pressed against your lips, Eddie began to roll his hips slowly, pulling nearly all the way out of you just so that he could sink sweetly right back in again and again and again. The desirous sounds of your rapture humming behind his hand was intoxicating, spurring him to move a little bit faster, to push a little bit deeper.

Your hand on his shoulder fisted the fabric of his nightshirt, your other desperately grabbing the corner of the vanity for purchase as you sank lower on his cock. His slow, deliberate thrusts made your eyes cross, your moans becoming more urgent with each push of his hips against yours. Eddie was utterly alluring to watch, lips parted as he moaned, sweat breaking out across his forehead as he tried to be oh-so careful of his thrusts.

Desperate to feel him deeper, you rolled your hips in time with his, causing you both to cry out as Eddie hit just the right spot. The change of angle made him tense abruptly, pulling his hand from your jaw so he could brace himself against the vanity; his eyes burned into you, as if challenging you to move like that again.

With a haughty look on your face, you did just that, rutting your hips experimentally against Eddie’s, toes curling at the pressure created on your clit. The sight of his brow knotting with pleasure bolstered you, urging you to move faster and deeper, pathetic sounds falling past your parted lips as you threw your head back.

Eddie’s hands grabbed desperately at your hips and thighs, fingers digging so harshly into your skin that it nearly hurt; he began to move his body greedily against yours, his cock somehow burying even deeper into you. He rested his forehead against your cheek, his hips jerking up into yours with more force as inconsolable whines sounded in your throat. He spread your legs wider, pushing your knees up higher, each shift and rut driving you wild as you already began to come undone.

Sweat was beginning to make your skin slick, your ass sliding down the vanity as Eddie’s thrusts became more urgent and feverish. Satisfied groans leapt out of him as he held your body steady, strong hands gripping tight to your hips as you arched up into him. As Eddie shifted one of your legs up even higher, you had to bite your own hand to refrain from shouting out with pleasure, his deep angle making your legs shake and clench around him.

The back of your head bumped the vanity mirror, and you realized then just how much noise the piece of furniture was making, the wood groaning under your weight, bumping against the wall. Were you of sound mind, you would have stopped Eddie, but you were too far gone, gasping and mewling with delight as his cock pumped in and out of your slick heat.

Eddie’s hand reached down between the two of you, fingers wickedly circling your clit as he continued to rut deep inside you, a string of satiated sobs passing between your lips. Your thighs clamped tightly around his hips, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your movements became jerky and desperate, the sensations sparking through your entire being impossible to contain.

You grasped wildly at Eddie’s back, nails digging into his skin, body quivering uncontrollably; he was unrelenting, dexterous fingers eagerly rubbing your clit, cock pumping quickly in and out of you. As your body began to feel like static electricity, his own thrusts became more frenzied, his grunts and moans in your ear growing more feral.

“E-Eddie, I--!” Your mouth moved of its own accord, your attempt at words unintelligible as his hips slapped against your ass, your entire body clamping around him as your climax rapidly overcame you. The fervid whimpering moans falling from your lips were utterly blasphemous, the sound of your satisfaction making it nearly impossible for Eddie to keep it together. His hands held tight to your waist and hips once more, your body shuddering as your orgasm rolled over you in wave after wave.

Eddie could feel the tension then leave your body, his grip becoming even more firm so that you didn’t simply melt off the vanity table. With hungry grunts he thrust up into you, his body unyielding as he used you to reach his completion; a ditzy, satisfied smile graced your lips as you felt his movements become more desperate, his hands becoming more greedy, ready to come undone at any moment.

Eddie hissed through clenched teeth as his hips slapped into you, your orgasm making you so wet for him that it was downright sinful. The rut of his cock inside you became manic with each thrust, his hands clinging so tightly to you that his knuckles were white; he was so goddamn close that he unconsciously whined, the sound making you sigh even as your eyes were still crossed.

Hastily, Eddie pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the lack of him, trying to keep your vision straight so you could drink him in. Eddie grasped his cock firmly in one hand, pumping into his fist as his head dropped back with a string of groans. He came abruptly, his seed spurting between his fingers and onto your exposed stomach, to which you gasped while still trying to come back down to earth. With his other hand, Eddie steadied himself, his weight causing the vanity to lurch a little as he continued to leak onto you, his chest heaving with labored breath.

For a long minute, you two were silent save for heavy gasps and inhales, Eddie’s eyes wound shut as he tried to recover from his orgasm; you watched his face with pining and zeal, savoring in the way his body seemed to shake from the intensity it went through. When finally he looked at you again, his gaze was hooded and dark with yearning, drinking you in carnally; your eyes locked, and briefly you were hypnotized.

Eddie reached out for you tenderly, whispering your name as he brushed his thumb along your lip, his fingers down your neck. You sighed deeply at the tenderness of his touch, eyes fluttering shut. You hummed in contentment, taking a few deep breaths before you met Eddie’s gaze again.

His smile made your heart flutter, the way he studied you made your toes curl; when finally he looked away, it was to scoop up the abandoned pair of drawers that you had long forgotten about. His gaze was amorous as he cleaned up his mess, causing you to giggle a little as if finally the thrill of the evening was setting in, as if you were finally able to wrap your head around what had just transpired between you two.

Eddie helped you sit back up, pulling you into a swift, needy kiss that nearly took your breath away. You pressed your foreheads together, breathing in the scent of each other’s sex, hesitant to speak words for fear that they may somehow shatter the moment. You gently cupped Eddie’s jaw, his own hands bracing against the vanity once again; another giggle hummed in your throat, and you felt the twitch of Eddie’s mustache as he smiled in response.

“It’s a miracle this poor vanity didn’t break.” You whispered hoarsely, your words causing Eddie to laugh as well.

“It certainly did us no favors.” He answered just as quietly. A tranquil beat of silence passed between you two.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” Your doleful statement was the burdensome reminder of reality - Eddie couldn’t be found here, and you had to go on pretending as if nothing happened. You felt him sigh deeply, breath tickling across your cheeks.

“If only things were that simple, dove.”

“Stay a while longer, at least.” You pleaded, pulling back to meet his eyes, “The night is still young.”

You, of course, had no idea what time it was, although you were certain if you were to look at a clock the hour would take you aback. Eddie shook his head with amusement, as if he’d just thought the same thing, his hands trailing to rest against your hips, where his thumbs rubbed small, comfortable circles into the fabric of your nightgown.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He answered sweetly.

“Promise?”

Eddie gave you a gentle, doting kiss, “Promise.”

[PART ONE] | [MASTERLIST]

taglist | @3rd-conchord @ali-r3n @chaoticgood-munson @chaptersleftunwritten @daisy-munson

@duncanhillscoffeecups @eddiernunson @evilunicorns4minions @ilovetaquitosmmmm @jasminelafleur

@lavendermunson @letstevengrantsleep @littlexdeaths @marlena-marlena @mmmunson

@skrzydlak @tenthmoon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson #stranger things #em

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siddyyyyyyyy · 6 months ago

Text

You're Only Sixteen

wc: 3.7 K

summary: child soldier joins taskforce 141 part FIVE; one, two, three, four ; six

warnings: discussion of child soldiers, discussion of character death

a/n: I have nothing to say, enjoy

Training hall, 7:32, one day before the mission

»C‘mon, focus.«

Ghost taunts you as he is sparring with you, having been at it for probably a few minutes after going out for a morning run. After that glorious nightmare that was indeed a flashback, you have been more focused than anything today. But Ghost doesn‘t care, he really wants to push your limits today and see how much more you can actually endure. And he is really sure you can handle more than you‘re letting on. He saw you take out a man twice your size with a simple fire extinguisher.

Obviously, his words do little to provoke you, but his punches sure do. The sheer amount of sass this man has during sparring sessions is always something you admire about him. With another hard hit against your side, you feel your adrenaline rise before your attacks start to become stronger, finally making him sweat. You‘re not sure why you‘re holding back on him, since back at your camp, you always made sure to be stronger and even meaner in fights, but you also know your camp was abusive, in some way or another. Ghost is quick too, however, and counters your attacks back, putting more force in his hits too.

Finally, the match is more rough between you two, making Ghost struggle to keep up with your movements. It is not clear who is winning the round before you kick his side quickly with more force, making him gasp and launch at you. Before he could actually attack you, you duck and aim for his abdominal area, finally making him stumble. But you don‘t stop there, encouraging him to fall. He does, eventually but not without letting out a curse so bad that you thought he was actually mad at you.

But no, he is far from mad at you. Actually feeling some kind of pride that you actually beat him. Even Soap has a hard time winning against Ghost, but he is also used to the competitive fights between him and Gaz. You help him stand back on his feet, and he gives you detailed critique. Well, he is mostly complaining about the way you‘ve been holding back until now.

»Seriously, you need to stop pretending I‘m fragile. I can take your hits. And I‘ve seen you take down men before. You can do better than that; just don‘t think too much.«

You give him a brief nod back, feeling somewhat lighter. Maybe today‘s morning training is making you finally take your mind off the things that are currently plaguing your mind.

You both start another round of training, having the freedom of taking out of frustration on Ghost, beating him a second time. You believe he is just going easy on you, but the way he pants while he gets up from the mat says otherwise.

Eventually, after some more rounds, in which you both win equal amounts of time, Ghost thinks you‘re ready for the mission, and it‘s time to go to the last official meeting before preparing for the deployment.

Arriving there, you see Laswell and Price already standing by the table, noticing you two enter as well. It seemed like they were talking about something, the room falling silent briefly.

»Still in for the task?«

Price questions you, his tone neutral but his expression having a serious hint in it. You give him a short nod, answering as the day before. Meanwhile, the rest of the team enters the briefing room and settles on standing around the table as usual. Laswell doesn‘t waste any time on getting to the point, starting the small PowerPoint and explaining the steps of the mission even clearer than last time.

The plan changed up slightly, changing up the positions mostly.

»You‘re still paired with Farah. But you will be taking care of the guards outside and keeping watch on the building. After that‘s done, you‘ll be joining the rest inside the building. Since you have the most knowledge about the camp, it will be your responsibility to lead the safest way into the director‘s room.«

The small changeup seems to be quite simple, understanding the task. Instead of ensuring the safety of the children, you will now help them get the so-called bad guys. Or your past superiors and boss. But it‘s better than having to escort your past rival, having dreaded the thought of possibly seeing him again. Laswell looks away from you, focussing her eyes on the slide of the PowerPoint that‘s projected on the whiteboard, continuing with the mission plan.

»Farah has enough men to safely escort the children away, leaving us a clear view of the task at hand.«

She glances back at you, her expression still as dead-serious as the day before.

»Your call sign from now on is ‘Bane‘.«

Soap grins lightly at the call sign, looking your way. Gaz does the same, glancing to you briefly. He only gives you a solid nod, but Soap even gives you a thumbs up. It‘s clear they both seem to want to hype you up in a subtle manner. Ghost, however, only gets the simple message behind the call sign; seeing the first mission together had left a big impression.

The briefing goes on, with Laswell mostly leading the meeting as the rest listens, only sometimes interjecting or asking questions. You stay quiet though, just letting the whole plan go over in your head several times and also getting used to your call sign.

Maybe you worry too much because you feel the muscles around your arms start to hurt lightly. It‘s not a sharp pain but more of a dull, throbbing pain around your forearms that makes you feel uncomfortable overall. No matter what, though, you stay still and calm during the briefing until you can finally leave for lunch and have a small break. The muscle ache subsides slowly as you make your way to the mess hall with Gaz and Soap, getting your food trays, and sitting down at your usual table. Finally, the ache seems to fully go away, letting you eat in peace. Of course that familiar ache was a thing even before joining this team. Due to being exposed to high stress situations at a young age, it must be your body‘s way of showing you stress since you mainly go through the stress and do anything to complete a mission.

Ghost passes by your table and sets the capri sun down on it, leaning his hands on the table as he looks at the rest.

»She beat me four times at sparring today.«

No one would have expected it, but Soap was the first one to process his words and drop his fork into his plate.

»You broke my record!«

He looks to you with a betrayed look, crossing his arms in a pouty way as he stares at you with his mouth wide open.

»Soap‘s havin‘ beef with a teenager now.« Gaz mumbles amused while he watches his teammate‘s reaction, only hurting his ego even more.

»I‘m not!« Soap glares at his teammate before looking back towards you, »In a matter of a few days, righ‘?«

You don‘t get what he is asking for a moment before you glance at Ghost, unsure of what to say. You beat Ghost four times today. Not four times in a year.

The lack of response makes Soap groan and hit his head on the table in a dramatic way. He could‘ve answered his own question, considering you are there for almost two weeks by now, and you have only been training with Ghost for today.

Ghost feels visibly smug and wanders off to his office, probably eating alone once again. The table isn‘t silent for too long as Gaz continues to tease him for getting his record broken by you, munching on the food while discussing this childish topic. In Soap‘s mentality, there is no such thing as ‚childish‘, because as long as it makes you happy or gives you a purpose in life, it doesn‘t matter if people find it funny or not.

Eventually, you finish your meal with the rest, starting on the capri sun now, as you walk out of the mess hall. Soap excuses himself to join Ghost in his office and bicker about his broken record, leaving you alone with Gaz, or ‚Kyle‘, for you, as he tells you to call him now. He suggests a walk around the park again, easily agreeing to such a request.

You start walking beside each other, the conversation starting off with him asking you something out of concern.

»Nervous for the mission? It‘s a pretty big one.«

»It should be fine. I‘m used to high-pressure operations.«

Kyle can‘t help but feel his heart break every time you say something mature like that. A literal teenager shouldn‘t be feeling like this. Getting a big responsibility thrown in their way, having to act tough and not be allowed to feel fear or back down, constantly needing to keep up your fitness and strength… it‘s too much, and he really wonders if you are actually so strong and capable, or if you are good at pretending.

Maybe he is worrying too much, but he knows he was busy trying to beat his friends at ‚Need for Speed‘ and ‚Mortal Kombat‘ in high school instead of worrying about things like you are right now.

»Are you though? It must be a lot, raiding your old camp and arresting your old superiors. There‘s a lot to process.«

He didn‘t mean to pressure you even more or get you into some sort of stressful situation, but you started to get defensive.

»I am used to this. There is nothing new about this, and...« You pause, trying to figure out how to say this and also not cringe at yourself, »I have a team now.«

Kyle raises his eyebrow lightly at that, not able to hide his light surprise. He doesn‘t know the system you had back there, really only Ghost being the lucky – or rather unlucky one – to know about the unusal system. And you are sure that Kyle would be even more devastated if he heard about those. A brief moment of silence goes by before he speaks up again.

»You trust us a lot, don‘t you?« His voice becoming more solemn. You give him a brief nod back, not daring to look into his eyes. He sees it as the best positive response he‘ll ever receive from you and just walks beside you quietly.

The conversation turns into something more light afterwards, getting to joke around a little bit with him as he mostly explains you what vines are and tells you some of the more popular memes, which you find rather absurd but funny.

The rest of the day went by relaxed. Or as relaxed as possible, since you still sometimes got a muscle ache and there wasn‘t any official training or meeting until the flight, leaving you some time to fully set into the new mission and get ready.

You keep checking for the small Polaroid in your bag; paranoid that it will vanish into thin air, but it doesn‘t.

Flight, 4:00

The flight came by quicker than you wanted it to be. Even though you want to get your revenge on every single one who wronged you, you can‘t help but feel wrought up about it.

But you don‘t have time to think about it now as you‘re getting into the helicopter with the others, being too tired to give a fuck about any of your worries anyway. Once you got all the essentials into the vehicle, you took a seat and put the headset on. Nikolai‘s chirp voice comes through, greeting everyone again.

»Ah, good mornin‘ guys! Ready to kick some ass?«

Kyle snorts beside you as he hears the motivated voice from the pilot, shaking his head lightly.

»Always. Drive already.«

Price responds as he makes it comfortable on the seat in front of you, looking towards the cockpit where Nikolai is just doing some final check-ups.

»It‘s flying, Captain. Flying.« Nik quips back, a little disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm from the team, eventually starting to fly to Urzikstan. You wonder how the pilot can be so cheerful most of the time, it being literally four in the morning, and you are about to fly for approximately eight hours. He must intake some serious drugs before every flight, because you‘ve never seen such a happy Russian man before.

Speaking of the devil, he calls you over to the cockpit, and you wonder what he might possibly want from you now. You step into the cockpit, standing behind him as he flies, glancing to you. He motions for you to take your headset off, wanting to speak privately.

»I didn‘t tell anyone, but I built a sound box in here. You listen to music? You can choose here, just play whatever you like.«

Meanwhile, the rest of the team discusses something among themselves, not paying much attention to your conversation with Nik.

And, of course, you know a thing or two about music. Well, you do have a favourite band since the camp played most of their music in the gym.

You look towards the device he shoves into your hands, having a bit of trouble understanding the mechanics of it, but you figure it out quite quickly. The first tones go off in the helicopter, making you flinch lightly. Nikolai nods along to the music for a moment, smiling satisfied and glad you didn‘t put on Taylor Swift.

»Nik?« You quickly give the device back to the man as you hear Price approach you both, playing as neutrally as possible. But the pilot doesn‘t even spare so much of a glance to the captain, seemingly too focused on controlling the helicopter.

»Why is Papa Roach playing at full volume?«

Price questions, looking to Nik and then to you. His expression seems more confused than annoyed, not having expected some music on the flight. But he seems to piece it together fairly quickly with how quiet you are and that you happen to just stand innocently by him.

»Bloody hell...« He sighs out softly and leaves you two be, returning back to the rest.

The rest of the flight consists of you talking to Nikolai, him mostly rambling about the helicopter you are both in and talking about some more mechanics and other planes and jets he once got to fly with. At the same time, the music plays in the background, realising mid-fly that he also installed some serious bass subwoofers within the sound boxes. The playlist seems to change, as you hear some unfamiliar songs that seem to be the stuff he usually enjoys. You ask him about it, feeling like he is the most easy and fun to talk to by far. Beside Kyle.

»Oh, that‘s my favourite band, Slaughter To Previal! I‘ve seen them live last summer in Moscow… Their show was something else. Do you like them so far?«

You take a small moment to answer, actually finding it rather strange and also a little too much. But you certainly respect his passion for this specific band. It seems like they are singing in Russian too.

»It‘s definitely energetic. And loud.«

Nik barks a laugh at your answer, understanding it might be something new and strange for you, considering you mostly know something about the nu-metal band ‚Papa Roach‘.

The last four hours of the flight go by with some occasional naps against Soap‘s shoulder and listening to the conversations the others have.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you are back in Urzikstan. The very same country you spent most of your life in. Where you wished to never return.

But this is about getting a mission done. The most important mission you‘ve ever had, probably.

Nik lands in a big landing field near a smaller base, the surroundings being familiar to you. The scenery is mostly bland, the sun being out by now, and the base being located in the middle of a desert. As you walk out, the hot sun surprises you, making your shield you eyes with your hand from it.

There are already some extra people that help with the baggage and all the equipment you brought for the mission. You stand by the others, making sure not to get lost, and stay by Kyle‘s side, seeing him stretch his back from the long flight.

Two people approach your small group, seemingly apart of the operation and base, the same people who will help with your task just tomorrow.

»Good morning, old man. I heard you have a new addition?«

Farah greets Price, making you finally look to her and to the man beside her. Kyle goes in for a hug with the man who introduces himself as Alex Keller to you, seeming like a decent dude.

Price goes to introduce you to them but gets cut off by Farah.

»No, I know her. How‘s your arm?«

Even you are surprised by her directness, and the team seems to be even more surprised. Gaz is the first one to actually speak up about the initial surprise, gesturing between the two of you.

»You… know ‘er?«

The air seems to tense for a moment before Farah nods and explains finally, seeing that you are still not a talkative one.

»We met three years ago, during a raid. I‘m glad she‘s with you now.«

After that brief explanation, it seems like some were still confused at the absurdity of you both knowing each other, but no one will press any further for now.

With some more words between the team and Farah, you walk into their base and get back to discussing the mission. Everyone seems to know their task pretty well, but there are still speculations about the operation and camp. What is actually their motive behind it? Why do they even need child soldiers?

»From the information we received from the warehouse, we could only determine where the building is and who it belongs to. We also got a list with all the children inside; they have full files of each of them.«

Price explains as Farah listens, the second in command, Alex standing beside her.

»Bane has most of the intel from all of us, which is why I think she is essential for the mission.«

Farah‘s eyes are mostly on you, studying the way you stick by Ghost‘s side during the brief and seem to be focused on the task as well. You‘ve clearly grown quite a bit during those three years of not seeing each other, but she can still see the scared and rageful thirteen-year-old she once almost took out.

»And this is why she will stick with us after clearing the guards outside. Farah, you still have enough men to escort the children, right?«

Finally, she tears her eyes away from you and nods, getting back to fully focus on the briefing again. The air is serious but not tense. Again, something you are not used to at briefings, even after having been in several one‘s with your team.

Once some more information and planning has been done, checking afterwards if everything is working right, it gets back to preparing more. But before you could join your team in preparing your equipment, Farah gets ahead of you and speaks up. She stands by your side, leading you more towards the exit to speak more privately.

»Seriously, how‘s your arm? I stabbed it really back then.«

She questions with more concern in her features this time, looking at you while walking outside and abandoning the rest.

»It‘s fine, you don‘t need to worry about it. Just got a bit of a scar.«

You dismiss quickly, feeling really glad you are wearing long sleeves today, even though you knew it‘s pretty warm in this country.

»Well… I‘m glad you got into better hands. Your decision?«

She asks again, this time being more light, but not without a hint of seriousness and genuine curiousness.

»Got sent to them because I was starting to lack.«

»Why were you getting worse?«

You really dreaded that question, and there is no way you will be able to answer that without at least your voice breaking. The conversation pauses for a moment before Farah sighs out, realisation setting in.

»I‘m sorry for your loss… When did it happen?« Of course she would realise it that quick. After all, she tried to interrogate you after stabbing you before finding out you are actually still a child.

»Two years ago. Raid mission; I was first in command, but she insisted on entering first.«

You bit your inner cheek, focused on staying calm and not letting any emotions escape as you talk to her. Even when you have only met her two times, she grew on you quite a lot. She is definitely the reason why you kept going as well.

»It‘s like she knew… she - it should‘ve been me.«

Against your will, your voice breaks and apart of Farah breaks too, as you try to explain what really happened. She stops walking and embraces you into a hug, her arms wrapping gently around you with a strong intent to comfort you.

»Don‘t say that. Halime wouldn‘t want you to beat yourself over it. It‘s not your fault.«

She tells you gently as she rubs your back lightly, feeling how tense your shoulders are. Farah always saw a part of herself in you. She was, too, being thrown into a difficult situation as a young child and was forced to continue. However, she also had a brother to care about and also had some sort of company that way. Now, you are the one who has nothing left but your team and this life, in which you are still fighting to survive.

»You need the will to continue, and you have it. But most importantly, we are here for you, and we will make sure to help you through each step. Understood?«

Her voice became a little lighter at the end as she pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

You were caught off guard by her hug and comforting words, but you had an even stronger will and motivation to go on the mission with the rest and get it done nicely. Now it‘s time to gear up and make your way to the old camp that once made your life a living hell.

a/n: I actually love Slaughter to Previal, I've seen them live in January and my life changed. Had to really strain myself from not writing from my perspective as Nik was speaking lol. Some proof, lmao:

Hope you enjoyed it!

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wwccol · 17 days ago

Text

Robin is magic!

Tim is tired and wants to go home so he shows everyone the magic that being Robin gave him! loll

It was just another night in Gotham.

A long, miserable, never-ending night.

For Tim, it felt like the universe had conspired to keep him from ever experiencing a proper eight hours of sleep again. Patrols had been chaotic, his caffeine-fueled brain was teetering on the edge of functionality, and he had hit the point where his filter no longer existed.

To make matters worse, Jason and Dick were treating the night like it was a buddy comedy routine.

“I swear, this guy looks me dead in the eyes and says, ‘You wouldn’t shoot me.’ So, naturally, I shot him. In the leg, obviously,” Jason said, smirking as he leaned against a rooftop vent.

Dick chuckled. “That’s nothing. Last week, this guy tried to bribe me with a sandwich. A sandwich! I almost took it—kinda hungry, not gonna lie.”

Tim groaned audibly. “I can’t believe I ever looked up to you two. Robin was supposed to be magic—this inspiring, legendary symbol of hope. Instead, it’s...whatever this is.” He gestured at the two of them like they were the worst offenders of Robin legacy crimes.

Jason frowned, mock-offended. “Excuse you, Replacement, I was peak Robin.”

Dick put a hand over his heart. “And I practically invented being Robin. Show some respect.”

Damian—was perched nearby, watching them all with an irritated expression. “I do not possess magic. Nor do I need it. I am superior without it.”

Tim turned, his eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion, and glared. “Noooo. Robin is magiccccc, it gave me magic. I don’t know about you guys, but watch this. ” Tim just wanted to get this mission done with, normal tactics of fighting wouldn't allow this to be quick, so Tim devised a very amazing plan…

The others froze, now paying attention. Jason raised an eyebrow. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Red thinks he’s Houdini.”

Tim ignored him, going back to the task they were sent on, scanning the streets below until his eyes landed on the telltale green. Across the street, the Riddler was mid-crime spree, directing henchmen as they unloaded bizarre-looking tech from a van outside a Gotham National Bank.

“Well, would you look at that,” Dick said. “They actually started doing stuff.”

“Looks like Riddler’s doing Riddler things,” Jason muttered, pulling out a gun. “Let’s—”

Tim raised a hand, cutting him off. “No. Let me handle this.”

Jason blinked. “What, you ? Alone? That’s adorable.”

“Shut up and watch. ”

Without waiting for input, Tim launched himself off the rooftop. He landed silently a few yards from Riddler and his crew, his exhaustion lending him an unsettlingly casual demeanor.

Down below, Riddler was pacing in front of the bank. “Hurry up! Gotham’s finest will be here any minute, and I do not want to repeat another Bat-interrogation!”

Tim strolled up casually. “Hey, Eddie!”

The Riddler froze mid-step, spinning around. “Red Robin? What are you doing here?”

“Just in time for the show,” Tim said with an innocent smile. “Wanna see some magic?”

Riddler narrowed his eyes. “Magic? What is this, some kind of trick?”

“Sure is.” Tim’s smile widened.

The henchmen paused, glancing at each other in confusion. “Boss, is this part of the plan?” one of them whispered.

“Quiet!” Riddler snapped, turning his attention back to Tim. “Fine, Red Robin. Impress me. Show me this ‘magic.’”

Tim shrugged. “Okay.” Then, in one fluid motion, he darted forward, knocked the cane out of Riddler’s hand, dodged a clumsy swing from one of the henchmen, and sent Riddler sprawling with a perfectly aimed roundhouse kick. The green-suited villain hit the ground with a loud thud.

As Riddler hit the ground with a loud thud, Tim threw his arms in the air like a magician finishing a grand trick. “ Magic! ”

The Batkids, still watching from the rooftop, were momentarily stunned.

Jason was the first to break, cackling so hard he nearly fell off the ledge. “Oh my god, you’re insane! ”

Dick, torn between disbelief and laughter, shook his head. “That’s...not how magic works.”

Damian scowled. “That was not magic. That was brute force. Any fool could do it.”

Tim pointed a finger at Damian, his smirk bordering on unhinged. “And yet you didn’t think of it. Magic!”

Jason was doubled over, tears streaming down his face. “I’m putting that on a shirt. ‘Magic!’ HHEHahhaeh Oh, this is gold. ”

Jason, doubled over with laughter, slapped Dick on the back. “Okay, I take it back. WE do have magic from robin.”

As the henchmen scrambled to grab their unconscious boss, a grappling hook whizzed down from above, pinning them in place. The rest of the Batkids descended, tying up the criminals in record time while Jason continued to laugh at Tim’s antics.

By the time Batman arrived, the scene was under control. Bruce landed silently, surveying the tied-up henchmen, the unconscious Riddler, and the chaos of his children.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice tired.

Jason grinned. “Tim did magicccc. ” In a singsong sarcastic voice.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to know. Go home. All of you.”

heheh lollll had this idea cus I do this In games :D

also posted on AO3

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

Text

The Real Problem With The Trolley

Coffee Shop Meet Cute | Part 3

Part 1 here. AO3

Kyle, as he introduced himself all those weeks ago, took all of twenty minutes to decipher your phone number and send a text to you.

>Would have taken me longer, but humming the ABCs tipped me off.

You read the message from the drop-down menu, not daring to open it and let him know you’ve seen it.

You weren’t bold. Kyle was gorgeous, and frankly, you were plain. You were pleased to be plain, let that not be misunderstood. Avoiding some of the nastier interactions with men but also never being singled out at the club or at a party would always be the curse/blessing of your face. Thinking it over you decide that stereotypes exist for a reason and that you would treat this like a woman in every port kind of situation until proven otherwise. You would chat with him and discuss philosophy and life but would let it go no further than friendship.

>Where did you learn to sign?

His second message appeared while you had been trapped in your thoughts. Taking a deep breath as if you were about to plunge into an icy lake you click reply from the menu.

<Something about the ABCs requires me to hum no matter how old I get. And I learned at uni. HBU?

When the message and reply box disappear you tuck the phone into your pocket and focus on the job you are being paid for. The buzz against your ass makes you jump. Quick bastard replied already. Rolling your eyes you ignore the tug in your brain to check your phone. You refused to get reprimanded for ‘looking at your phone excessively on shift’. Your manager was an asshole who couldn’t cut it at corporate and got sent back down to manage a store.

The shift passed in the slowness that only a retail job can manage. The journey home, thankfully just a single bus ride, gave you time to dip into Kyle’s messages. You cleared chats and videos from friends before opening his.

>Learned with the rest of my team. We use sign a lot on jobs and during training to communicate.

>Why do you study philosophy? Sounds like you’ve finished uni at this point.

A few hours later he sent another message.

>What are your thoughts on the trolley problem?

You reply to his messages out of order but figure if he isn’t smart enough to match them up keeping up a text chain would be harder than you cared for.

<I think the trolley problem misses the big questions.

<I am done with uni, graduated last spring but can’t find a job that cares about the paper I paid for.

< I like using my brain, feels like a good way to fight back against all the evil I see.

His reply comes in as you are stepping into the flat you share with your three other roommates.

>What questions should we be asking about the trolley problem?

You pause after shutting and locking the front door, shoes, and bag still on.

<First off who the hell owns these tracks? Secondly, how the hell did so many people get tied to them? Don’t tracks get checked regularly for safety?

You slip off both shoes and fire off one more message.

<It seems like we are so focused on who gets to live or die in the trolley problem that we aren’t asking who put us in that situation in the first place.

With that, you lock your phone and set about the task of showering and finding something to eat after your long ass day.

Coffee Masterlist | Masterlist

@soldierservant I didn't know if I was going to make more of this but since I did I figured I would tag you once and if you want to get notified when more of these drop you LMK.

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #lostinstransit writing #lostintransist

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cry4mina · 1 month ago

Text

DYWTYLM? - Part 8

Take Me Back to Eden - Mina x Fem!reader

Word count: 8k

Angst/Fluff

Summary: Reader cooperates with authorities to trap Nayeon so they can lock her away for good but nayeon has other plans. Mina shows up for you in ways you never thought possible, solidifying your relationship and giving you reinforcement for the idea you already had.

TW: mentions of food, abusive partners, Nayeon is actually insane…death, knives, blood, suggestive moments, angst angst angst.

A/N: I was dragging my feet bc like only one more part after this and it’s basically an epilogue 😭 i fr love this series so much and I know I talk about it constantly but it’s just bc I’m just so proud of it. Thank you for taking the time to read it and I hope you all have a lovely day🖤🖤

A deep breath before entering the familiar building you used to call home, you look back to make sure the police are in their positions in the unmarked cars they drove over in to not tip off Nayeon.

A quick thumbs up to them before shifting your attention over to Mina who is in the passenger seat of your car. Parked in its usual spot, you can see her fidgeting and bitting her nails…she’s just as fearful as you are.

The worry in her eyes was very clear, even from a distance. Distraught over this plan you had concocted with the law enforcement to trap Nayeon and arrest her.

It won’t stop if you don’t stop it.

You are who she want and the sense of responsibility that you feel to protect those you care about is strong. Mina already got caught in the crosshairs…you couldn’t bare it if someone else was hurt by her.

Nayeon waiting for you in the apartment that held all the memories, good, bad, ugly, and even worse - the ones that weren’t yours too. All the energy that was trapped in that space, if the walls could talk, they would scream bloody murder.

9:45pm is when the cops were going to move in on the apartment, you just needed to keep her distracted while they moved into the building…you could do that. Looking down at your phone to check the time, it was 9:29pm already. Distracting her for 15 minutes didn’t seem like too big of a task but the fear of the unknown looms over your head.

What would she do or say while you were in front of her?

Another deep breath, you silently enter the building and make your way to the elevator.

It takes forever to get to your floor, the slow pull of gravity adds to your anxiety as the numbers go up,

Until finally you’re on the floor where this began…and where it was about to end.

Flashes of everything that had happen haze over your mind’s eye, showing memory after memory of what had taken place over the last month.

The note.

The text messages.

The rock through the window.

The banquet.

The hospital.

Everything she had put you through, now about to come to a head as you sulk down the hallway and to the wood that separated you from whatever would happen next.

The front door is intimidating, feeling the same rush of emotions as the first time you came back to this place after you found out about Nayeon cheating on you…but in no way did you think it would turn into this…nightmare.

It was a full blown terror now, seeing who she truly was, her true colors…it was all still so disorienting, even with the time apart. Having a hard time believing this is who she was even though you saw it for yourself.

You watched as she tried to take away your happiness for her own gain, you watched as she selfishly almost murdered not only you, but Mina…and what she did to Jihyo and the people she supposedly loved…all of you put in harms way.

A violent narcissistic temper tantrum was all it was and at the cost of all her relationships.

Taking another deep breath, wincing at the broken and bruised ribs, you take your second to calm down. Needing to keep her here and calm was the biggest thing so the police could do their job.

It’s hard to remain neutral when all you want to do is lash out at her, tell her that she will never be anything to you anymore but you know she’s not going to listen…she hasn’t listened the last few times you’ve said it, you suspect she would only be worse this time.

Wrapping your hand around the knob, you open the door- the creak of the hinges only adds to the tension already built up in your body.

Stepping inside, Nayeon is waiting for you by the counter, smiling and giddy, bouncing in her place with little happy movements- the exact opposite of that you were feeling.

“Welcome home, baby!” Walking towards you with her arms spread to hug you.

Flinching at the action, you take a step back and lift your hands to shield yourself from whatever she might do.

Nayeon stops in her tracks, sniffling and pursing her lips. Her brows furrow harshly, smacking her lips and going back over to the counter where she was when you walked in.

“Are you scared of me, baby?” The pain and sorrow reflected in her question rings through your bones, a dull ache that made its way down your body.

“You know the only reason I’m here is because you threatened Momo and Dahyun…and don’t call me baby.” anger filled words with the sharpest inflection, spewing venom towards the snake.

Nayeon lets out one chuckle, it’s evil in nature and aggressive.

“I figured that was the only way to get you here…Sorry about your little girlfriend. I know you’re probably mad at me for that, but you’ll forgive me in time. You will see that you and I are meant for each other.” wincing as she walks over to the couch, a predator who didn’t feel threatened finding a place to perch.

Nayeon plops into her usual spot and pats the seat next to her, looking you in the eyes to see if they have softened for her the way they used to.

Crossing your arms, the rage swells into fury.

“How dare you?…How can you possibly think that I would ever come back to you after everything you’ve done?!” Voice raising at every syllable.

“You cheated on me, stalked me, threatened to harm people I care about, you pointed a fucking gun at my face, you shot Mina, trashed my apartment, and you think that I’m going to what…just crawl back to you, Nayeon?! You’re fucking delusional!” Screaming at her, releasing every ounce of hatred you had.

A laugh that echoed the sound of pure hell added fuel to the fire the moment it left her lips. Nayeon stood up and walked over to the counter again.

“You don’t have a choice, baby! You loved me once…and you can love me again. Either you stay here with me…” unsheathing a large kitchen knife from the butcher block on the counter.

“Or you lose everyone you love and not just M-Mina…” Nayeon chokes on her name, a single tear falls from her eye.

The admission of her intent to kill only swells your rage more, the fire in your veins fueling every poison laced sentence you spit in her direction.

“Don’t you dare say her fucking name, Nayeon! You don’t get to play sad for the things YOU did…I’m not agreeing to anything you want, Nayeon. Not now, not ever.” Clenching your jaw while trying to wait out the clock but you’re getting more restless by the second.

Nayeon slides a piece of paper over to you, knife still in hand - a silent threat.

It’s a marriage certificate with her name and yours written on it.

“You sign this…” clicking a pen open and placing it next to the contract.

“Or I will take everything and everyone you love away from you…it’s your choice.”

The calmness she has about her is an eerie cockiness, batting her big brown eyes at you like it would make a difference.

Emotional whiplash, the bounce between insanity and the Nayeon you fell in love with makes your chest hurt.

You’re disgusted by her, her true colors are showing in a way that paints her in the worst light and her soft attempts to show you that the gentle part of her still exists.

Looking over at the clock, the time reads 9:40pm…only 5 more minutes. You just needed to keep her here for only 5 more minutes.

Picking up the paper and scanning it over, you look up at her to see the ring you purchased sitting on her finger…The pear shaped diamond in the middle with little diamonds laid into a rose gold band.

The one you bought planning to propose… the one you showed her after you found out about Jihyo…your face twists in disgust.

Pinching the paper at the top, you are sure to look right in her eyes and you rip it right down the center, tossing it mindlessly to the floor.

“Hear me when I say this, Nayeon…I will never marry you. In fact, the most peace I have ever felt was when Jihyo told me she shot you and that you were dead. For that day, I was completely and totally fine. You have terrorized me long enough.” Voice getting shaky as the fear clings to you, chest tightening with each word.

“Look at the lengths you’ve gone…look at how much worse it actually is. You’ve hurt more than just me in this, you’ve hurt Mina, Jihyo, and every other member as well…”

“Had you actually been the person you showed me you were, we could’ve had it all…but you aren’t and you never were…you never will be that and I do not want anything to do with you.” Hearing the words leave your mouth was healing in a way, something you had said to her previously, but she failed to understand.

“I already took her from you. Mina is gone, Y/n. So who do you have now? You need me!” Watching as she gripped the knife like she was trying to strangle it teeth clenched and muscles flexing and her own anger boils over…she’s about to crack.

“SHE STOLE YOU FROM ME SO I TOOK HER FROM YOU! SHE CAN’T HAVE YOU LIKE I’VE HAD YOU!” Slamming her fists down, shaking the counter and everything on it, huffing and breathing heavy while tries to expel the hatred of the one who “stole” you.

Nayeon winces at her own wounds before cackling manically and taking a step towards you, she pulls the knife up over her head and swings down at you.

Dodging the blade, you push her back against the counter.

The shriek released from her was hard to hear, the physical and emotional pain she was going through…you were there too but in a very different light.

“Nayeon! Stop this!” Backing up towards the door, reaching for the knob.

“Don’t you DARE fucking LEAVE! I ruined my LIFE FOR YOU! FOR US!” Another swing of the knife, her heaving breath filling the room as she continues to slash in your direction.

“I’ve been gone this entire time! You have done nothing but make my life a living hell! Put the fucking knife down!” Managing to maneuver around her swings quickly, expertly avoiding the sharp slashes as they cut through the air.

Fear takes over, terrified at the attempts to harm you again. How could it be so easy for her to just attack you like this? Grappling with the extent she would go to get what she wanted, you can’t understand even now how she would be so willing to harm you.

Managing to gain a little distance from her, you watch as her arm cocks back. Dropping to the floor you hear this whistle of the knife and a loud thud in the wall behind you.

The blade sticks into the wall, wobbling from the sheer force she threw it with.

Clock reading 9:43pm - you just needed to get through 2 more minutes and everything would be fine.

“YOU. ARE. MINE.” Throwing anything she can get her hands on at you.

Coffee pot, pans, silverware, the crystal vase…everything.

Dodging most things being pelted at you, the crystal vase hits your back - shattering and scattering all over the floor, a few shards imbedded in your flesh.

Sucking air between your teeth, you reach down to try and shakily pull the shards you can see out. The sound of the blood covered crystal hitting the floor shocks Nayeon out of this jealous filled rage.

“Oh my god…baby, I’m…I’m so sorry.” Rushing over to you with a towel to try and stop your bleeding.

Flinching on her approach, you take a fearful step away from her.

“Stop! Don’t touch me!” Tears now spilling, you move and the shards you can’t reach dig deeper into your side, torturously shredding you from the inside.

“P-please let me help you…” Nayeon is crying and sulking at her own mess, the craziness behind her eyes is still very present.

“No! I said don’t touch me!” sobbing as the terror sinks deeper.

Nayeon suddenly runs at you, swinging her fists violently. She manages to land a few punched on your face and ribs. The pain erupts from your chest, crying out into the living room where your illusion of happiness died.

Not letting you fall to the ground, she holds you up and drags you to the couch only to throw you down on it.

Straddling you, she wraps her hands around your throat and squeezes. Air being immediately cut off, you fight to get her off you.

“If you won’t be with me, then you won’t fucking be with anyone!” Hissed in your face as her digits tighten around your throat.

Fighting with every ounce of strength you have, you attempt to tell her to get off you but her grip is too tight. Tugging and pulling on her fingers, you grasp at her face and arms trying to just breath.

Vision is fading to black, you can feel the blood in your head trying to find a way out - tasting blood in your mouth…was this really it?

What about Mina? Thought to yourself…what about the life you could build with her. Her face flashes in your minds eye, you need to live for her…you can’t give up just yet.

Allowing your body to go limp, you lay still when you feel Nayeon’s hands retract. She starts bawling her eyes out, laying her head on your chest with her hands over her face.

“What have I done?…what the fuck have I done?!” Feeling her body shake on top of you while she sobbed into you.

Bawling your hand up into a tightly woven fist, you swing, knocking her clean off you and onto the coffee table - causing the glass top to break underneath her.

Trying to stand and catch your breath, there’s a heavy knock at the door.

Nayeon stands up, dripping blood from her back - panicking, eyes darting around to try and find her escape.

“You aren’t getting away this time, Nayeon!” Horsely yelled at her through the knocking.

Her face turns beat read, a fury like you’ve never seen before.

She walks over to the kitchen and pulls the knife out of the wall with a sharp jolt - never letting her eyes leave you.

Taking a step towards you, she hears the rattle of the door again.

“OPEN UP, IM NAYEON! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!” The burly sheriff yells, you hear the battering ram slam into the door - it budges slightly.

Nayeon runs at you, wrapping her arm around your throat to get you in her grasps. She places the blade on your throat and is waiting for the door to break.

The wood explodes out of the frame, a million splinters waiting to be had across the floor as the three police men file in, guns drawn and ready to fire.

The problem being you in the way, she was using you as a human shield.

“DROP THE KNIFE!” The sherif yelled, she did not comply.

“Put your guns down or I’ll slice her throat and let her bleed out.” Calmly, almost gentle in nature. How can she have such a calm demeanor, you can feel her heart beating out of her chest as she tugs you even closer to her, metal still to the skin of your throat.

Panic set into you, the adrenaline was too much and your heart was racing. Feeling the droplets of blood gather through the slices and drip down your side, slithering down your body - you hear a familiar voice breaking the concentration of keeping Nayeon’s knife off your skin.

“Nayeon…put the knife down!” An angelic voice rings from behind the men.

Hearting filling with dread as you break out in a cold sweat. No! Why is she here?! She can’t be in this dangerous situation.

“No!” You shouted past the officers.

“Don’t come in here!” Nayeon tightens her grip again, pulling you to get you to stop fighting her grasp.

Already fighting her way in, Nayeon gasps when she sees Mina slowly making her way into the room, tightening her grip on you and scooting the knife up higher on your throat.

Feeling the blade start to separate your top layer of skin, a single drop of crimson descends your throat, the police see this and take aim at Nayeon.

“Mina…W-what? H-how did you?” Mina simply raises her hand at Nayeon.

“Nayeon, let Y/n go…you know this isn’t what you want.” Her voice is so soft…and sweet…this is an awful time to swoon but you can’t help it.

Willingly putting herself in harms way to try and help you, to get you out of this situation. She steps in front of the officers and tries to defuse this.

“You don’t fucking know what I want, Mina! I wanted you dead and out of the picture but it looks like neither of us are going to get what we want!”

Nayeon’s tight grip of you faulters, you wedge your fingers under hers and push them a few centimeters away from your skin so the knife isn’t in contact with you anymore.

This is enough to distract her from everyone else, pushing against you to bring it closer to your throat to keep her leverage.

The push and pull ensues and no one makes a single move, cops won’t shoot because you’re in front of her, Mina is crying and begging for Nayeon to stop when it dawns on you…

“N-Nayeon! If you love me like you say you do…then put the knife down!” Strained and tired, the please escape you.

Nayeon hesitates, her grip loosens for a moment and you take the opportunity to break free - using her own strength against her and launching her back against the window, causing it to break.

Running to Mina, you wrap your arms around her. Safety with a beautiful face, you fight your sobs in the grips of her.

This wasn’t over yet.

“If you are with her…” Nayeon starts “Then I have nothing to be here for…” slamming the hilt of the knife into the already cracked window - the spill of the glass furthers everyone’s focus on her. There is an echo of the glass hitting the side walk down below.

Whipping around, you see Nayeon sit on the window sill, the cops are shouting and you take a massive step towards her.

“Get off the window! Now!” The men yell, but her focus remains on only you.

“Y/n, I love you…I’m sorry.”

“STOP!” Yelled, tearing your vocal cord with the shear force of the scream.

Everyone freezes, silence fills the room.

“Don’t do this, Nayeon. Please.” Begging through tears, you can feel Minas energy shift.

Taking another step forward, you watch how Nayeon is analyzing you…only one way to save this, only one way to save her…not wanting her to take this route out, you were going to see this through.

“Nayeonnie…please don’t do this…if you love me, you won’t do this…” reaching a hand out to her, trying to get her to co-operate by using her own tactics against her.

The old nickname rings through the room, hitting her ears and creating a tense moment of old memories. A sob breaks from her chest, reaching for your hand and locking her fingers with yours.

“Come on, let’s go…we can figure it out together, like we always do…right, baby?” This seems to be working, she’s got her hand in yours, hyperventilating as the ocean pours out from her eyes.

“Don’t you get it, Y/n?” Nayeon sniffles.

“There is no out.” Swinging the knife and slicing you across the chest violently, the unexpected movement as you thought you had her in your grasps by giving her what she wanted.

A loud boom claps through the room as the warm crimson spills out from your skin, it’s a surface wound - thankfully but the blood is still ever flowing.

Looking at Nayeon and watching it in slow motion as the blood spilled from her own chest…her knees hit the ground, dropping the knife on her way and toppled over onto her side - gasping for air and coughing up her own life force.

Instinctually, you rush over to her and places your hand over her would to keep the blood in. The cops call an ambulance, and you try to hold in the tears now that the danger has been quelled.

“Y/n?” Choked out between wheezes and coughs.

“Yeah?” Sadness in the tone of your reply, you never wanted it to come to this…you wanted her to be held accountable but…this is…not what you imagined.

“Can I…ask you…something?” Her voice getting quieter as the sentence carries on.

Nodding your head, a tear breaks free from your eyes.

“Do you believe we can turn into different people?” Almost a whisper this time.

“I watched it happen to you…” replied through the tightness of your throat and the ache of what was happening in front of you.

“Do you wish that you loved me?”

The questions burns in your ears, stinging it’s way down your neck to your chest and down to your stomach.

“…No. I wish I didn’t.” Words hitching as you sniffle through them.

Nayeon lets out a soft chuckle, lifting her had with the rest of the energy she had to wipe the tears from your eyes.

“It’s been so long since I’ve touched your face, I forgot what it feels like…” tears of her own spilling as she chokes on more of her own blood.

“I wish I never reminded myself…I tried to fix it all but…nothing seemed to help.” Breathed through the trauma she had endured throughout this night.

“I’m sorry my love…I’ll be better in the next life.” Coughing and hacking after the sentence only for her body to go limp in your arms, eyes open but staring at nothing as she takes her last and final breath.

Time is frozen for you and you only, the cops lift you from her and move you over to Mina who is still crying and waiting for you with open arms.

“Get her out of here!” The cop instructs Mina, she guides to the door and into the hallway.

“Let’s go downstairs and wait for the ambulance to get here, okay?” Staring at your hands, covered in Nayeon’s blood and seeing your own shirt soaked in a mixture of yours and hers…you come up with responses or even know what to speak out loud.

Mina takes the lead and takes you out of what once was your home, now only serving as a point as a headstone to the memory of Im Nayeon.

—

The sherif and first responders bring down the gurney with the body bag on it, packing it into the second ambulance and sending it off to the morgue.

The EMT responsible for stitching up your chest and removing the shards from your side mentioned to Mina that you were in a state of shock and should be okay in an hour or so, offering to let you sit on the tailgate of the vehicle until you were okay to drive.

Mina never left your side.

Not once since she had you again.

Phone vibrating next to you, rattling against the metal and startling both you and Mina. She picked up the phone, answering it quickly.

It’s Momo.

“Yeah, Y/n is okay. A few more stitches in her chest and she’s in shock but she’s okay…Mhm, yeah…” Mina looks at you with sad eyes, she was going to say it out loud.

“Momo, Dahyun…Nayeon is…Nayeon is dead.”

Silence.

“She was shot by one of the police officers. She tried to kill Y/n with a knife…it’s a lot, I know…Yeah we can meet you there once Y/n calms down a little more…okay…okay text me the address…alright I’ll see you soon. Bye.” Hanging up and sitting next to you.

Reaching over to Mina, you grab her left hand and lean your head on her shoulder. Wrapping her right arm around you, she just holds you closely. Giving you a forehead kiss and cooing that everything is okay now.

The only thing that felt okay, was her.

—

Mina hired people to clean up your apartment, paying the lease and moving you in with her. After a few weeks you and her both were mostly healed, ribs no longer broken…only the physical and emotional scars remain.

Though you lived together, most of your relationship was taking care of one another’s wounds and making sure the panic attacks had someone to combat them but what you really wanted was to build on the already solid foundation.

It was hard.

On both of you.

The girls came over every few days to check in, making sure that you both were doing okay. Momo called you every day, coming over most days of the week to cook for you and Mina.

Appreciating everything that everyone was doing to show up for you, there was a grey wash over you. Something you couldn’t explain, but it was noticeable to everyone…you weren’t as cheery and joy filled as you were…before.

Often waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, panicking from the nightmares of Nayeon holding a gun to your face or a knife to your throat - you would sob and Mina would hold you.

Three months of this was driving you crazy, never truly resting the way that you needed to, you drowned in your head and your thoughts - the flashbacks so unsettling that all you can do is sit still and hope they pass quickly while trying not to cry.

The lack of sleep caused you to not be present more often than not. Unable to hold a conversation for longer than 5 minutes or focus on a tv show, playing video games…food was uninteresting, skipping meals most days- it worried Mina more than she led on.

One particular night, after jolting out of sleep from a nightmare, you got up and put on a robe to cover your mostly naked body before strolling into the living room and wandering to the balcony. Taking a seat in one of the rocking chairs, just taking in the calmness of the night when you heard the door creak behind you - startling you.

Mina steps into the moonlight, still in just her panties.

“Mind if I join you?” The tiredness in her voice made you want to send her back to bed but you knew she was going through the same things you were, but she was trying to be strong about it for you.

Nodding your head, she walked over to sit in your lap, her legs horizontally across your thighs so she could lean into you. Her skin was cold against yours, even with the chill, you welcomed this contact with her.

Throwing part of the robe over her legs and covering her back with the other part as best you could, you both just sit in silence, keeping each other warm and enjoy the night sky together.

Looking up at Mina’s beautiful face, your eyes trace down her body to the scar where the bullet entered…your throat tightens, eyes watering as you bring your finger up and lightly trace it.

“I’m sorry…” choked out through the attempt to keep yourself from sobbing.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby.” Reassuring you, placing a hand on the back of your neck and slipping it up into your hair.

“If I had jus-“

“No.” Cutting you off before you could finish the sentence.

“You did everything you could do. She was the one who couldn’t respect that she made a mistake and took that out on you and I…that’s not your fault…that’s her fault.” there is a hitch in her breath that makes you hold her just a little bit tighter.

Tears streaming down both of your faces, she traces the long sliced scar across your own chest and you sigh.

“My reflection doesn’t smile back at me anymore.” Whispered through the silence of the night, followed by your sniffles and you trying to clear your throat.

The silence continues for a moment.

“Your reflection is missing out…Mine smiles back at me because of you.” matter of factly stated.

“Because of me?” throat closing as you speak the words out loud.

“Absolutely because of you. You are amazing, Y/n…you are everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner and so much more…you have shown me that even in the worst of times, life can still be great. Look at what we went through together! Look at all what we survived…together. I know that things have been a little rough after the fact, but we are still building…and my intention is to keep building…with you.” Lightly crying in the memory.

“You and I, we can get through anything.” Smiling through the tears she had.

“Y/n, I love you…” cupping your face with her hands and kissing you softly.

The warmth of her love radiated through you, evaporating any doubt or self blame you were having. It was nice not having to question if she was telling the truth or not. Every single display of love was in her actions, though this was the first time she actually said it out loud, you had known for a while.

Lips parting, she placed her forehead on yours, looking you in the eyes.

“Okay?” With a silly tone, eye wide trying to provoke you to giggle.

“Okay.” Smiled back at her.

Rocking in the chair together for a few minutes, you realize that this is what you always dreamed of. The fantasy of having someone who wouldn’t give up on you, the openness to be able to talk about what was bothering you…hope for the future…

Mina, this type of undying love….this was what you wanted.

“Hey, Mina?”

“Yes, my love?” Facing you to make sure you know that her attention was yours.

“I love you too.”

She rests her head on your shoulder and sighs, relaxing her body into yours. This brings a comfort to you that you can’t elaborate.

“Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?” Feeling her voice reverberate in your chest as she asks.

“I would love to.” Planting a light peck on her forehead before resting your head there.

Continuing to sit calmly in the moonlight together, anticipating tomorrow as you calmly rock back and forth.

—

The brightness of the sun wakes you around 11am, calmly waking up for the first time in weeks. Mina is laying in your arms, still sleeping peacefully with her face in your chest. Not wanting to wake her just yet, you admire the calmness of the morning you’ve woken up to.

Mina shifts in her sleep, leaning into you more, and clinging to you even more. A small giggle erupts from you - feeling her smile into your skin, you stroke her hair.

“Good Morning, beautiful.”

“Good Morning, baby.” Her eyes still closed, tilting her head back and puckering her lips - asking you for a kiss.

Happily granting her wishes, you kiss her gently - a few soft sweet pecks before sitting up in bed. Nails tracing shapes on your lower back as you look over at her.

Bare faced and beaming up at you, you can’t help but think about how you got here. Everything that has transpired, all the heart ache and the worry…all of that leading up to this moment of waking up next to someone who would never dream of putting you through that.

In fact, she cares so much that she went through it with you…hand in hand.

Sighing, you lay back down with her, facing her and brushing a piece of hair out of her face just to tuck it behind her ear.

A bright gummy smile beamed at you sleepily, warmth in its light.

The sun couldn’t imagine the brightness or the warmth that she filled you with. Despite the scars and wounds you had both suffered together, she was still here…in the lowest point of your life she was a consistent ray of shining effervescent light.

“Do you know how special you are, Mina?” Tone turning serious for a moment, first thing in the morning.

“I could ask you the same question.” As she takes your hand off her face, softly kissing your palm before cuddling your arm.

The idea sprang into your head, something thought about in passing but too scared to focus on - you weren’t so scared anymore.

“Did you have anything planned for that date tonight?” Eyebrow raised and lips pursed.

“I was just about to ask what you wanted to do.”

“I’m…highjacking this date!” Jumping up and throwing on a pair of pants and a shirt.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Leaping after you, wrapping her hands around your neck and clinging to you.

“I just highjacked a date, Mina! I have to make it special if I’m stealing it from you!” Smirking at her.

“Anything with you is special.” Kissing from your neck up to your jaw, making you totally weak in the knees.

“M-Mina! Stop trying to seduce meeeee!” The way you whined at her brought out that beautiful smile again.

Grabbing your wallet off the dresser, you hand her one of your cards.

“Baby, why are you giving me your card?” Confusion in her tone and concern on her face.

“Tonight’s date is all on me. All of it. So, do me a favor…” wrapping your arms around her waist and scooting her back to the bed so she’s seated.

“Take my card, go get your nails done and get an outfit for tonight.” Kissing her one last time before heading towards the door.

“But-“

“No buts! Unless it’s yours, then yes…butts.” Blowing her a kiss and slipping out the door.

Her giggle follows you.

—

Getting yourself a new outfit for the date as you were still replacing everything that was destroyed.

A medium grey sweater that hugged you perfectly, some fitted black slacks and black dress shoes. Mina would go crazy seeing you in this and that’s what you wanted.

Walking back to the car, you try not to pay too much attention to what’s across the street from the store you were in.

You hadn’t been there…maybe you should go. You know the number of the plot…

Before you could argue with yourself further you were pulling into the dirt parking lot and stepping out of the car.

Walking down the isles and counting until you hit the one you knew it was at.

Taking a deep breath, you walk to the stone and read it.

~Im Nayeon~

~Forever in our hearts~

Fans had scattered the grave with wreaths, photocards, flowers and candles that had burnt out all their life force.

You were just happy none of the fans were here to see you visiting so you could have your peace in this moment.

The company did a very good job at covering up how it all happened, burying police reports and blaming it on a car accident.

JYP had been collecting letters sent to the company for you, the world not knowing what she put you through…they offer sympathy but it only caused you more suffering. You opted not to read them.

The online comments about you being with Mina were hard to swallow, everyone placing bets on who you’d be with next when they had no idea what you had already been through with Nayeon.

The world never knew what she was or who she was. A secret kept from everyone in order to protect the privacy of Twice and you while you all healed.

Staring for a minute, you drop your head and have a moment of silence with yourself.

The birds are chirping, the sun is bright and you were about to propose to your girlfriend tonight but you were here…somberly staring at the cold stone slab that Nayeon was buried under.

“I’m going to ask Mina to marry me today, Nayeon…I know that probably doesn’t sit well with you.” A dull whisper of wind pushes your hair out of your face as you sit down in front of her grave.

“What you and I had…it wasn’t love…it was never love…and I know that because what you put me through is something I would never put Mina through…I wouldn’t have put you through it either.” Eyes staring to well up in anger and sadness, tears falling and hitting your pant legs with a thick rhythmic thwap.

“But…Mina is exactly what I’ve always wanted…she’s what I thought you were.” Taking a deep breath as you carry on.

“It’s still so hard to wrap my brain around. How did you go from humming in the kitchen and trying to make my coffee perfect to…shooting her and stabbing me? And what you did to Jihyo? I just…” choking on your words, face twisting in discomfort.

“Not in this life or the next…Goodbye, Im Nayeon.” Taking a second to blink the pain from your eyes, another deep breath, you stand up and walk back to your car.

You’ve got some preparing to do.

—

Next to stop for flowers, and then you’ll be ready to go and pick up Mina from your shared apartment.

Though it hadn’t been long since the two of you had been together, it felt like a life time. There was nothing you were more sure about than marrying her.

Grabbing a bouquet of 2 dozen roses, you are officially ready to return back to your apartment.

Pulling into the parking lot and going up the stairs, you hear the shower running. Taking the moment where Mina was distracted, you set up the flowers in the living room. Frilling them out and making sure they were perfect.

Once that was done, you went into the room - removing your shirt and pants on the way and heading straight for the bathroom to join Mina.

Angelic singing echoing against the tile, her shadow behind the frosted glass washing her hair.

Stripping out of your underwear, you knock lightly on that glass.

“Room for one more?”

“Hmmmm, I suppose I could make room.” Winking before stepping to the side and letting you into the drizzle of the shower head.

—

Mina stayed in the bathroom to dry her hair and style it while you went and got ready in the room. Slipping on your new slacks, you grab the sweater and slide it on before brushing it out as a nervous tick.

A spray of the sandalwood perfume you like and a watch, you’re almost ready to go.

Sneaking over to your sock drawer in the dresser and pulling out a little suede box and stuffing it in your pocket quickly.

“I want to surprise you with the dress I got so go to the living room when you’re finished!” Shouted with excitement.

“Yes Ma’am, leaving now.” Stepping out of the room and closing the door.

Thinking it is a little chilly outside, you should probably grab your jacket. There was a charcoal grey peacoat you had that would match, and hand an inner pocket to hide the ring.

Putting the jacket on, you tug the ring out of your back pocket and pop the box open.

It’s perfect.

An oval diamond on a platinum band with two smaller diamonds framing the one in the middle, classy and elegant just like her.

Closing the box, you put it in your jacket and take a deep breath. Nerves getting the better of you as you wait.

It didn’t take long for Mina to emerge from the bedroom. Hearing the door open, you turn your head to see your beautiful girlfriend.

Holy.

Shit.

A bright candy apple red cocktail dress, hair done in large beach waves with a nude lip. The embodiment of heaven blessing you with her presence, elegant and sexy…you were very lucky for so many reasons and very aware of that.

“Oh, wow…” standing up immediately, you walk over to her - jaw to the floor.

Suddenly Mina gasps at the roses set up for her on the coffee table.

“Honey! These are so beautiful!” Running over to them to stick her nose in them and take a deep whiff of their fragrance.

“Thank you.” The eyes she’s giving you sends a chill, jaw still on the floor at her in this dress.

“Can you help me?” Pointing to her back and turning around to reveal her zipper half way down.

Oh, the nerves persist, rattling you to your core. Hands shakily taking the small zipper and tugging it up, you release the metal and hear it rattle.

“Are you shaking? Did you eat today?” Concern in her voice, she turns around quickly to face you, brows furrowed in worry.

“Yes, I did eat.” Sheepishly, trying not to make eye contact.

The warmth in your cheeks gives you away to her.

“Y/n L/n, are you blushing right now?” Her hands go to hips, the smirk she gives you makes you cover your eyes.

“You’re cute when you blush.” Reaching for your fingers to hold your hand.

“You might still make me nervous…” timidly expressed with a chuckle.

“Nervous?! We are just going to dinner, my love! No need to be nervous.” Kissing your cheek and grabbing her shoes to slip on.

Strapped black heels to finish the look off and a black clutch to match.

Catching her eyeing you while she fixes the straps on her shoes, you wink at her and taking the moment of separation to grab her long black jacket out of the closet.

“Thank you for getting my jacket baby, and can I just say…you clean up so well.” Winking back at you as you hold her coat open for her so she could easily put it on.

“Thank you,” kissing her and admiring her.

“Ready?”

Mina nods her head at you, you hold the door for her while she steps out and you’re off on your date.

—

Dinner was smooth, taking her to a fancy steak house around the corner for your apartment. The food was great, the atmosphere was quiet and the conversation was immaculate as always.

Unsure of how you were going to pop the question, you just let the night take you where ever it may.

A glass of wine or two and you were feeling less nervous than before, now it was just a matter of timing.

Unwilling to ask her in public, you tried to think about what you could do or where you could take her that would be romantic and still personal.

“Wow, the sunset looks really pretty tonight.” Pointed out to you as you left the restaurant.

“Do you want to go watch it at the park?” Perfect idea.

“I’d love that.” Smiling up at you as you set off.

The park only being a block away was a big win, especially with her in those shoes. Clinging to your arm the entire way there, you find a bench in front of a stream and watch as the sun goes down.

Mina’s head is resting on your shoulder, still holding onto your arm and sighing into relaxation.

“Hey, Mina?”

“Hm?”

“Well…” the nerves returned rapidly as you start your speech.

“You know you mean the world to me? You’re so kind and caring, intelligent, thoughtful…I really respect and admire the person you are.”

*Deep breath, keep going*.

“Everyday, even the days that wouldn’t classify as great, since I’ve met you, you’ve only added to my life. I’ve grown so much…I value myself more, and I finally know what love truly means. Through out the relationship we’ve built, you constantly show up for me…you are an amazing partner and friend.” Running out of breath, forgetting to inhale and exhale while you talk.

Mina is looking you in the eyes, tearing up as you continue.

“I would not have made it through…the situation we were in without you…and to be honest, I don’t want to know another day without you as my partner. You are everything I dreamed of and so so so much more.”

Standing up and kneeling down on one knee in the gravel, you pull the box out of your jacket, anxiously trembling as you pop it open in front of her.

Mina’s hands cover her mouth as she gasps in shock at the ring, the tears are now freely falling as she covers her entire face with them.

“Mina Sharon Myoui, w-will you marry me?” Quivering through the most important sentence of your life.

Mina is aggressively nodding her head yes, sniffling and choking back happy tears while she extends her left hand towards you.

Slipping her ring on her finger, you kiss her hand and stand up only for her to follow you in a massive hug, sobbing into your neck and squeezing you.

“You are everything to me.” Her tightened throat squeaked out.

Meeting you face to face, placing her hands on your cheeks and bringing you in for a kiss drenched in pure love.

Resting your foreheads together, you’re smiling at each other- holding each other and living right in that moment where you’re supposed to be.

This is what they talk about in movies. This is what the love songs are written about.

This is Eden.

“So, future Mrs. Myoui, what would you like to do for the rest of the evening?” Starting to walk home hand in hand, Mina’s ring finger sparkling in the moonlight.

“Anything.”

“Anything?” Eyebrows raised, she has something in mind.

“Mhm, what are you thinking?” Kicking a pebble on the street as you walk.

Mina can’t seem to shake the smile she has, you share that sentiment.

“I can think of a few things, actually.”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Well, I might’ve bought more than just this dress…and I’m going to be honest, I’ve been staring at you all night.” A glimmer in her eye, a look.

THE look.

“More than just the dress, huh? I’m intrigued.” raising an eyebrow at her.

“…it’s actually under the dress.” Casually dropping the information.

“Drinks before dessert?” as you turn the key to your apartment.

“Whatever you want, soon-to-be Mrs. Myoui.”

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pregobirthlvr · 1 month ago

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Birth prompt : 1, 3 (at work), 2 (normal speed labor), 3 (painful labor), 1 (partner), 1 (in bed birth), 1 (laying down), 1 (head first), 2or3 (difficult- brutal), third pov

Last Minute Work

Word count: 1482

May had just finished filing away the morning’s paper work. Her belly continuously got in the way, making the task twice as hard. Her company offered her to take a few days off before the baby was born but she was determined to stay at work until she had it.

Her suborness now had her working while 3 days overdue. May waddled back to her desk. The office chair groaned as May lowered her massive self into the chair. In the past few days the armrests started to brush against the sides of her belly. Still she refused to go home.

It wasn't until she started to feel some strong cramping that she started to consider leaving. She rubbed her belly at the latest cramp, her other hand gripped the side of her desk as she tried her best to stay quiet. The office wasn’t particularly silent, with her coworkers chatting around her, but she still didn't want to risk any attention being brought to her.

May finally managed to sit back up after the cramp disappeared. She made a note of the time so she can start keeping track of these cramps. She then reached into her desk drawer and grabbed her cell phone. She quickly sent a text to her partner at home, ‘I think it’s time. I’ve been having cramps all morning, and they’re only getting worse.’.

She sticks her phone back inside the desk and returns to her work. She continued to work for another hour, monitoring how closely the cramps were starting to get. She heard her phone go off inside the drawer. She reached inside and brought out the device. Her partner had texted her a few times, ‘Are you okay?’, ‘Do you need me to come and get you?’, ‘Should I call the midwife?’. May starts to type out a message when a massive cramp starts to build inside her. This one is brutal and finally convinces May she is fully in labor.

She breathes through the painful contraction and quickly types out a message to her partner, ‘Come and get me. I’m in labor.” She quickly sends off a few emails to let her bosses know she was taking off.

She waited for her latest contraction to end before she shakily stood up. She balanced herself with help from the desk then took off for the exit. She waddled through the office hoping she wouldn't be stopped on her way out. She was so grateful when she managed to get to the front door with only a few polite goodbyes.

Just as she stepped out the front door a contraction started. She leaned against the wall and grunted softly. She rubbed her bump and looked around for her partner. Almost on queue she felt her phone go off. She pulled it out with shaky hands, breathing hard as the contraction reached its peak. The massage was from her partner ‘Just left. Be there soon. Hang in there.’

She groaned, realizing she had to wait in front of the office while in labor for her partner. She just hoped there wasn't much traffic and they’d be here soon. Her legs were already starting to feel less stable underneath her.

It didn’t take long for her breathing to hitch as the next contraction started. She frantically looked around, hoping her ride would miraculously arrive. Unfortunately for her, the only cars in the parking lot were her coworkers.

She grunted and tried to breath through the contraction. Her legs bent without her telling them to. Her thighs opened up to help the pain in her lower half. Her dress rode up but hopefully not enough to flash anyone, not that she could even check over her massive bump.

At the peak of her contraction she saw her partner pull into the parking lot. They slammed to a stop and put the car in park. They got out and went around the car to open her door and help her inside. They ran back around and hopped back into the driver's seat before taking off.

“Why didn’t you have me pick you up sooner?” They ask, taking a sharp turn out of the parking lot.

“I didn’t think they were that bad,” She explains, rubbing her belly.

The drive was quick, her partner determined to get her home as fast as safely possible. May was thankful for it, as she only had to experience two contractions between work and their drive-way. Unfortunately for her, the second began as she was leaving the car. She grabbed at her partner's arms, which were around her shoulders to help her inside.

“Please help me keep moving,” May begged her partner. “I don't want the neighbors to see.”

They nodded and continued to move May despite her legs shaking and almost giving out at one point. Right as they got her inside and shut the door, May fell to her knees letting out a deep groan. She remained there panting while her partner started to remove her shoes and jacket.

“Let's get you to the bedroom before the next one,” May hears in her ear.

She nods back, lifting her hands up for her partner to grab. Her partner helps her to her feet and leads her up the stairs and into the bedroom. She cries out and grabs the door frame when the next contraction starts. She's only feet from the comfort of her bed but the contraction is too painful for her to move even an inch.

She pants and white knuckles the doorframe. Her legs shaking violently underneath her while her belly contorts through the contraction. She just starts to catch her breath when there's a soft pop sound and a sudden gush of water underneath her.

“My water,” She moans, the next contraction starting already. “Bed. Please.”

Her partner nods and even though she’s contracting, they start to move her. She weakly protests at first but stops as soon as she feels the soft mattress bump against her legs. They wait for their contraction to end before getting her up onto the bed.

Once up in bed May rubs her belly and tries her best to catch her breath. She shifts her weight feeling the next contraction already creeping up in her. She’s thankful she can relax her body now that she’s laying down. But She quickly regrets it as all the pressure is now on her back.

“You should check how far along I am,” May says to her partner. “I feel like I need to push.”

“Sure!” her partner says and makes a motion to go check. “Looks like you’re 10cm, you're ready to push whenever you feel like it.”

“Good because I’m already pushing,” She wails as she pushes hard with her contraction. She grabs her knees and pulls her legs up spreading them far apart. After a while she collapses back against the bed and waits for the next one.

Again, she’s grabbing her legs and pushing hard. The head slowly made its way down her birth canal. She screams and pushes over and over the head only makes its way out little by little.

“It’s barely moving…” May gasps out. She’s panting, her face bright red, and sweat covered her forehead. She looked exhausted.

“But it’s moving. You just have to keep pushing. Come on, baby” Her partner encouraged.

May whined but was unable to fully protest before her head was thrown back and she was pushing again. After another 10 minutes of pushing she could feel it. The head was now straining against her lips. She screamed and pushed even harder. The end was so close, she was almost done.

“It’s so big…” She moaned as she pushed with the next contraction. The head started to peak out, even now she knew this was going to be hard.

“It’s okay you’re stretching nicely,” her parameter said.

She grunted and screamed along with her next contraction. When it ended the head was half way out, stretching her lips to the absolute max.

“It hurts,” She started to get out before screaming and pushing once again.

She pulled her legs back, the head sliding further out of her. When she suddenly felt the pop of the head busting forward out of her.

“Almost done, one more push,” Her partner instructed. “Just wait for the shoulders to turn. I’ll tell you when you can push.”

She nodded. The wait wasn’t long. It was with the next contraction her partner gave her the go ahead. She pushed one last time and the baby slid free into her partner's arms.

“You did it baby! The baby it’s here!” Her partner announced. “It’s a girl!”

May started to cry as she was handed her baby. She looked down at it and smiled. Then back up at her partner.

“I can’t wait for our next one,” May said excitedly.

#pregnancy kink #birth kink #labor kink #preg kink #pregnant kink #my writing

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as-is-above-so-below · 2 years ago

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Hey, Jealousy

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”

Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”

Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”

“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger…”

“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”

A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.

“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”

“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”

“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”

“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”

THEN

It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.

As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.

He could be merciful when he wanted to be.

The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their… “situationship”, however…

After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.

“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”

“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”

“I was just - doing - my job-”

Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides.

“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”

Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”

“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”

“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”

“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”

“You’d better be.”

NOW

The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.

“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”

“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.”

“We said we’re sorry!”

“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”

“I’m going to kill you–”

John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”

“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”

“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”

Johnny raised his hand. “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.

Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”

Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–

“Johnny.”

“Sir?”

Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”

“Aye.”

“Still in effect.”

Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.

Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.

When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –

There.

Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.

All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.

Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.

He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”

She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.

Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”

“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.

“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”

Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”

“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.

With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.

According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.

She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–

The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”

“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”

“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”

She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.

Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.

I should put in for a day or two off.

“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.

“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”

Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.

“Soap-“

“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”

Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries…

Anyone would lose their patience.

Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing.

As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”

Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”

All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup…

She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.

“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”

Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?

Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.

“How much of me can you take?”

“All of it.”

“Bloody hell…” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”

She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer…

“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”

His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.

Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.

Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”

She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.

Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”

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milliesfishes · 10 months ago

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౨ৎ꣑ৎHold Up౨ৎ꣑ৎ (Pray You Catch Me Part Two)

[fem reader] contains: mentions of pale skin, cheating, suggestive, self harm (non-suicidal), manipulation, angst, innocent reader, reader cares to some level about snow. pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader summary: (au) you’ve been married to the president of Panem for awhile now, and you thought things were going well, until you find out he’s been cheating. (Chapter 2) author’s note: thanks for the love on chapter one <3 excited about this one. Series Pinterest Board Series Spotify Playlist

When Coriolanus had started to court you, he’d exhibited certain behaviors you’d taken note of. Some of them were regular things, but one stood out above all others.

He was possessive. One of his hands was always on your waist, or your thigh, wherever he could reach, wherever was appropriate for the setting. Whenever you were speaking with anyone at the events the two of you attended, especially if it was a man, he kept close watch. His gaze was sharp, piercing, and anyone could feel it on them even if they weren’t looking in his direction.

Every touch, every hint of protectiveness swam through your head as you laid next to him, back against his chest as he held you like a doll.

Sleep was not your friend that night.

Your mind was fully focused on the hand he’d put over you, how it had slid under your nightdress, resting on the skin of your hip, and your emotions ran wild, swirling around until sunrise when you finally landed on one. Anger.

The audacity he had to make plans to meet another woman for something so glaringly carnal and then come back to you, his obedient little wife, like nothing had happened. Your hand gripped the pillow under your head, feeling like you could tear it in half. The black nightdress you’d picked up felt like sandpaper on your skin.

Sitting up slightly, you looked over at him. The most powerful man in Panem, fast asleep, so vulnerable, so…human. His blond hair was a little messy, his breathing soft. Even now, he was annoyingly perfect.

Suddenly, as your mind wandered, it struck you that you had no idea how long he’d been seeing her. You knew it’d been at least once because he’d mentioned last time. This could have been years in the making, and you were just too naive, too stupid to see it. Hell, it could’ve started long before he’d begun courting you, and you’d been none the wiser. You hardly knew anything of his past, except what his being in the public eye afforded you.

The hand on your hip was heavy, like a weight, and you glared down at it. In the past, you would’ve allowed it, not wanting to wake him. Maybe you’d have even enjoyed the feeling.

But this was not the past.

In one motion, you shoved his hand off you, tugging your nightdress down and moving as far away from him as you could on the bed. You pulled the pillow out from under your head and put it firmly between the two of you, your back to him. It was a small act of rebellion, but it was all you had right now.

When morning came and the sunlight spilled through the windows between the wine red curtains, he’d awaken and wonder why he wasn’t holding you anymore. But he wouldn’t think much of it, likely figuring you’d shifted around in the night. He’d be confused, but it wouldn’t affect more than a few minutes of his waking mind.

It was all you had right now.

Several hours later, Coriolanus was gone for the day, and you tried to occupy yourself. It was not an easy task. It felt pathetic waiting around for him to get home, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Wandering into the closet you shared, you ventured over to his side, running your hands over his shirts and jackets, inhaling his scent. You’d never explored his things before, keeping to your dresses and heels. He’d never outright told you not to do this, but you assumed he didn’t necessarily want you to.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. It was the least you could do after what he knew hurt you.

You took a shirt off its hanger, pressing the fabric to your nose. Men’s cologne, roses. That was him. When you put it back on the hanger, you made sure it was a little less neat than before.

Now you were at his jackets, and you took a red one off the hanger, noting the pants it matched on a shelf, crisply folded. Going over to the floor length mirror, you pulled it on, smoothing it over your body. You were still wearing the black nightdress from the night before.

Wearing his clothes felt strange, but you liked it. It was…powerful. You put your hands in the pockets, turning to look at yourself from a new angle, when you felt a loose scrap of fabric. Lace.

Your eyes widened, a feeling of dread taking over as you hastily pulled it out. A stark black pair of panties, ones that did not belong to you.

Mind racing, you thought back to the last time he’d worn this jacket. A month ago, a fundraiser you’d attended. You remembered that night because he’d been unusually affectionate, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you’d leave to talk to a friend, his arm around your waist holding you close when he was speaking with a senator you couldn’t remember the name of. You’d felt…well, not loved, but cared for. Like maybe, just maybe this could be more.

But evidently he’d gone straight to her afterwards.

The staff of the mansion was discreet, and they wouldn’t dare ask questions if they found a pair of panties in his pocket. They’d have likely just put them right back where they found them after the jacket had been cleaned.

As all this hit you, your face crumpled, and you knelt on the floor of the closet, still holding the panties, and cried softly. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. You didn’t know why you were surprised he was stepping out on you, but it was the fact that he’d made you think he cared about you, and allowed yourself to care back.

You were just another pawn in his game.

Men like Coriolanus wanted to be adored, without risking their own necks. Let everyone else feel, be vulnerable, devote themselves. On some level you had known that before, but now…now it was glaringly obvious.

As was what you had to do.

You wiped your tears and took off the jacket, hanging it up right where he’d see it when he walked in. The panties were still bunched in your fist as you stalked out of the closet, heading for the bathroom. A plan was hatching in your mind, and you gritted your teeth, your expression dark.

Tossing the panties on the counter, you pulled out your curling iron and plugged it in. As you waited for it to heat up, you got out a washcloth, twisting it in your hands. It was your wedding anniversary today, so you knew for sure he’d be home tonight. That’s why he can’t meet her tonight-

Shut up, you told yourself, fanning a hand over the curling iron, making sure it was hot. You picked it up, inhaling softly. There was a moment of hesitation. Was it worth it?

Then you thought of the way your heart had fluttered when he pressed his lips to your temple, the way you’d smiled sweetly at him when he told you that you looked beautiful on his arm…

You shoved the washcloth into your mouth and brought the curling iron to your neck, pressing it down hard.

Perfection is attainable, you thought as you sat at the dining table, across from your usual spot. His place was set at the head, and you were often situated to his left. But tonight you’d requested you sit to the right, a subtle change that’d unconsciously put him on edge.

You looked ravishing, in a dress with a deep neckline, thin straps, and hardly any back. Deep red. His signature color. One you hadn’t dared to wear before. There was a rose between your fingers, and you were twisting it, eyes on the entrance to the dining room.

At last, he appeared, as handsome as ever, his face serene. There was little reaction to the sight of you, but it was there, and you relished in it.

“Dove,” he greeted, coming closer. You made no move to stand and welcome him as you usually did, instead looking up at him innocently, the end of the short stem of the rose in your mouth.

He sat in his chair, eyes on you. “Your dress…”

“Oh?” You looked down at yourself as if it were nothing. “I found it in the back of the closet. I know you usually like me in black…” you let that statement hang in the air for a moment. “...but it’s a special occasion.”

Coriolanus watched you, something you couldn’t pinpoint in his eyes. “I was only going to say you look lovely.”

You merely smiled at the compliment, setting the rose down in front of you, your hand beside it. He picked it up, his elbow on the table, kissing your fingers. “Happy anniversary, dove.”

Hating the little flutter your heart gave, you kept your eyes on him, a little smile on your face as you brushed your hair behind your shoulder with your free hand.

Immediately his eyes caught it, his expression growing cold.

The dark burn mark on your neck, bruising and almost looking like…

You looked innocently at him, taking note of the change in his face. “Dearest…?”

His grip on your hand was tighter. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

Frowning, you kept your expression light, pretending not to know. “I don’t-”

“Your neck,” he hissed. “What the hell is that?”

You didn’t respond, only looked at him, your eyes blank like you had a secret. His silence was furious, and yet internally you were having a laugh. Cheaters are always paranoid that their partners are cheating. This was something you'd known when you burned your neck earlier, and the seed you’d planted was in full bloom. “Curling iron accident.”

You’d made sure to only slightly curl the ends of your long hair, enough that what you said was plausible, but not entirely believable. His thoughts were almost visible on his face. “You expect me to believe you burned yourself?”

“You can ask Lisa,” you said, referring to one of the maids. “I rang for her to bring me ointment.” This was true, you’d called her in tears, showing her the mark. She’d applied enough medicine to stop the pain, but nothing except time would make the mark completely go away.

But you knew how his mind worked. He knew maids could be bribed, and pain could be fabricated. And you’d orchestrated it so it’d be frustrating for him to get to the bottom of this, because he already was at the bottom. His paranoia was almost too easy to manipulate.

“If I find out you’ve been with another man…” Coriolanus’ voice was quiet, the tone change making his words lethal.

You leaned forward, pulling your hand from his grasp. “And what if I am?”

His cold expression betrayed some surprise as you stood up, looking like a goddess with your hair spilling over your shoulders. In his usual color preference, you looked powerful, dangerously beautiful. “It’s hard to tell, Coriolanus. You work long hours. Spend a lot of time away. Maybe…just maybe, I could’ve gotten lonely. Maybe I could’ve needed someone to keep your side of the bed warm…”

In an instant, he stood, pinning your hands to the table and leaning over you, his hot breath in your face. You kept your expression calm, looking into his eyes boldly. He glared at you. “You wouldn’t dare-”

“You’re right,” you cut him off. “I wouldn’t. That mark on my neck is just a burn...” He must’ve thought you were a good actress, but not good enough that he couldn’t see through you. It was almost funny how easy he could be convinced. It’d hardly taken any effort at all.

You wrenched one of your hands out of his grasp, taking his hand and sliding it up so his fingers were hooked on the slit of your dress, dragging it up and over toward your belly so the panties you were wearing were on full display. Black, lacy ones.

His eyes widened as he recognized them, and you stared at him, expression hard. His lips parted slightly, and his eyes rose slowly to meet yours. You said nothing, shoving his hand away, your dress falling back over your legs. “...care to tell me what these are?”

Coriolanus’ blue eyes pierced yours, and you didn’t let yourself be intimidated by him. He was the president of Panem…but he was still just a man.

“You know,” he said simply, eyes searching yours.

You only stared at him.

He exhaled, biting his tongue and looking away for a moment. “How long have you known?”

“I don’t see why that matters,” you said, folding your arms across your chest, your chin held high.

His expression was firm, but he nodded curtly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

Silence.

Coriolanus kept his eyes on you. “I never meant to hurt you, dove-”

“Don’t call me that,” you said softly, sharply.

He exhaled through his nose, a sure sign he was angry. “You had to know this would happen at some point. This was an arranged marriage for-”

You interrupted him again. “It’d be one thing if you’d always been cold. If you’d kept your distance and stayed far away from me. But you convinced me that you cared about me. You made me look stupid.” Your eyes bored into his.

He was silent, still glaring at you, but it had weakened. The words hit him exactly where you’d wanted them to.

You stood up straight, stepping away from him. “I’ll be staying in another room from now on, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to move my things.” You’d already enlisted Lisa to help move most of them earlier, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Absolutely not,” Coriolanus grabbed your wrist. “I can tolerate your anger, but separate beds will not be suffered. Or did you forget your vows-?”

“Which you already broke,” you pulled yourself away from him, turning your back, giving him one last look at you in the dress. “I think sleeping in a different bed will be fine.”

He wasn’t used to being interrupted this much, and he stood in silence as you walked away. Just before you got to the doorway, you reached up, sliding the panties down your legs, turning and throwing them in his direction. “Here. I bet she’s missing these.”

And with that, you left your husband in silence, the last hours of your wedding anniversary lost to the aftermath of his infidelity.

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