#it was not wanting to upset whoever found me and make more work for whoever had to deal with the wreckage of my failed life

[funeralprocessor]

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[aakeysmash]

Tell me you love me

Pairing: f!reader x Sukuna Ryomen.

Word count: 2512.

Warnings: ANGSTTTTTT. An attempt at it at least lmao, let me know if I did a good job with it. A bit suggestive in the middle. Cursing. Mentions of cheating (mentions!!! No cheating in this house).

People often say that Sukuna would be obsessed with the reader/oc, but I think a relationship with him would be the hardest thing ever.

He doesn’t get the concept of being in love: at the start of your relationship he found out you were more tolerable than anyone else, he assumed that meant he liked being around you and went along with it. Of course he fell in love in the long run, but for him it’s embarrassing to admit it. He barely even said it when you asked him why he wanted you to move in with him.

It’s not like he isn’t obsessed with you: he’s obsessed with the way you just seem to get him, with the way you smile when he comes home from a long day at work, with the utmost kindness you treat people around you with and that he lacks completely. He’s mesmerised by you, by the curve of your hips, the brightness of your eyes, the softness of your hands on his body.

He doesn’t show it, though.

He’s used to being rough and redeems emotions as futile. Like he already said to you in a couple of your arguments, if you get him you get him, if not, he’s not explaining himself. Everything he does is thought of and automatically right, so why would he give you explanations?

But sometimes in relationships you need communication. He doesn’t see how intense it is to be next to someone who acts like he doesn’t care about what you want to share in your daily life. And again, he does care: if he could, he’d make a copy of you yapping and just listen to it on repeat while working. He loves how passionate you sound while talking about your hobbies, he finds the little tilt to your voice when you search for his approval adorable. He doesn’t see how difficult it is to be with him because he’s only been with you, and you’re so good at communicating and making him feel heard he doesn’t notice he’s not reciprocating your efforts.

And that means that he’s never the one who wants to resolve misunderstandings, because he thinks they don’t really exist. You were upset about your dish not coming out the way it was supposed to and instead of reassuring you it was still edible he straight up said it looked horrible and walked away? He’s not sorry. He spoke his mind, did he not? And why would you be sad about the truth?

You’re not weak, and you’re not shy either. Kind people are not necessarily stupid, and you’re living proof of that. He’d never be in a relationship with a weakling who doesn’t know how to raise her voice and stand her ground. You’re fierce in your own way, and you know how to manage his stubbornness 90% of the time. You don’t like being disrespected or ignored, and you made sure to talk his ear off whenever he did it. Not like he purposefully did it, anyway.

But as a person who understands emotions and feels emotions, sometimes being with him frustrates you. And it comes to a point where you debate on keeping being next to him or leaving him for good.

He’s not the only one who has hard days, but when both of you have one, the silence inside your house is deafening. You’re the one who usually starts up conversations, but your mind is occupied with other things. You’ve barely touched your food.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He scoffs at dinner. He doesn’t like you frowning, it wrecks his heart. It makes him want to destroy the face of whoever took the smile he lives for off your face.

You sigh. “You know how my parents said they were coming to visit us next month? Well-”

He’s silent. Fuck, when did she say this? He thinks. Probably one of those days where the thought of your thighs suffocating him all night plagued his mind last week. Fuck, he’d take a bite of them right now if you let him. Maybe he could suggest it. It could take his mind off of his own shitty day.

“Are you even listening to me?” You say sternly. He notices you kept on talking while his mind wandered, but he disregards it.

“Wanna fuck?” He asks instead.

You’re baffled. “Sukuna, what the fuck?”

“Damn, you could’ve just said no, brat,” he says rolling his eyes.

You get offended. “Don’t fucking ask me what’s wrong if you’re not going to listen to me.”

“Yeah yeah, you were probably going to talk about how worried you are and shit. I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to get my dick wet I’m going to rub one out,” he says waving his hand in front of your face and standing up from his chair.

You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Would you prefer me to find someone else to do it for me?” He bites, snapping his head toward you.

He sees you widening your eyes. If there’s a thing you don’t tolerate is cheating, or jokes about it. He knows it. He knows it, dammit. You’re fuming.

“You’re an asshole. Fuck you. I’m sleeping at Nobara’s,” you spit at him, grabbing the purse you left on the side of the table and rushing out the door, slamming it.

When he’s left alone in your shared living room, he keeps on looking at your front door. The silence is making his head hurt, the only thing he’s hearing is the sound of the door slamming. Did he overstep? Nah, you were probably overreacting. He shrugs and finally moves from his spot, going to put his dish in the sink. He leaves yours on the table, because maybe you’ll be hungry when you come home. You usually are after an argument. You’ll come back after a couple of hours saying you didn’t want to worry him too much, you’ll sigh saying this can’t keep on happening and that you’re tired of arguing, then he’ll hug you and everything will be alright. Just like it always is. You’ve never left like this, though.

He ruffles his hair; he’s angry at everything and everyone. You should’ve got that he’s the one overreacting, why didn’t you get him like usual? Why aren’t you still back after 3 hours? He hates feeling angry. He hates feeling tired. He hates feeling in general. Most importantly, he hates that the hands in his hair are his and not yours. He hates the way right now he’s craving your soft voice reassuring him in his ear, your sweet words covering him like a blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat while lying on your couch, reminding you that you’re there. You’ve always been there. There’s no one else for him, there’s never going to be one. He’d never cheat, you’re so stupid for getting angry about it. Why did you get so mad about it? Suddenly, he’s thinking about random stuff you said that he ingrained in his head.

I love you too, Sukuna. I’ll wait for you to tell me that without me forcing it out, mh? I’ll move in with you, sure, if you ask me so that nicely.

You picked this book because it reminded you of me? Thank you, baby. I love it. Both the book and the fact you thought of me.

Can you stop messing up my sock drawer? No, I did not hide your cigarettes there. But please stop smoking, I love when you taste like my lip gloss and not that disgusting shit you inhale. Give me a kiss so I can prove it to you. I’ll take your breath away way better than tobacco.

He smirks while on the couch, alone. You’re so cute. He wants to bottle up your laugh. Why aren’t you back still? His mind doesn’t stop, though.

You hurt me, Sukuna. Why can’t you notice?

I feel like you don’t care about me.

If I hadn't come to you, would you have come to me? Or would you just have ignored this whole argument and acted like nothing happened?

Am I just filling up a random space you leave open for a significant other or am I the significant other that’s capable of filling that void?

That night he dreams of you. The way you glared at him asking him if he was serious, almost like a warning before you lashed out. He dreams of the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he spewed nonsense. And when he wakes up, you’re still not back. Your unfinished plate is still on the kitchen table.

But he’s prideful, that’s why you’re the one that’s always trying to resolve arguments. Yes, you’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You always came back during the 3 years you've been together.

A week passes by and he's going crazy. You haven't contacted him at all, and he didn't text first. He lies to himself saying it's because he's leaving you some space, but the truth is that he's scared. What is he even supposed to say? Hey, I'm sorry, I miss you, please come home? That's pathetic. He's taking a shower when suddenly his phone rings. His heart skips a beat and he rushes out to check if it's you. Please, let it be you.

Instead it's Yuji, his brother.

Yuji: Hey, what happened with y/n? She asked me to come get some of her things for her. Is she sick?

Sukuna frowns. Then he realizes that- you're going to move out. You're going to break up with him.

He goes into panic mode. He never thought about the possibility of you leaving him. He thought you would come back, like you always do. Why would you leave him? Is it because you finally realized that you're better off with someone who knows how to express their feelings for you? Did you get tired of him? Have you already found someone else?

He finds himself knocking on Nobara's door in the next ten minutes. He ran, he's sweating and it's starting to rain. He's out of breath, and he gets his hands on his knees while he waits for you to open the door. He's not ready to let you go. He can't even fathom a life where he doesn't wake up to you trying to get warm between his arms, without you nagging him while watching a film together, without helping you bake cookies while laughing with each other. Without not being able to talk from how in love he is while looking into your eyes. And he knows that if you leave him he's never going to be able to live in his own house ever again, or walk down the street you always do together, or go grocery shopping and not thinking about you while looking at vegetables. You always said you liked vegetables and he always lied about liking them just to see you excited about cooking them together.

"Yuji, I didn't think you'd be this fas- oh," you open the door and your face falls when you see it's Sukuna. He snaps his gaze toward your face when he hears your voice. He missed it so much. You're so beautiful. He missed all of you. So much.

Neither of you move, you just keep staring at each other. This time, he knows he's going to have to talk first. For the first time, he realizes how hard it actually is to confront someone first. Do you feel like this every time?

"Come home," he says. "Please," he adds.

You look sad. "I don't think I'm going to, Sukuna. It's been more than a week and you didn't even reach out to say... I don't even know what. I know you don't say sorry. You never do."

Your words feel like knives. From where you're standing you're taller than him, and he has to look up to look at you. It's like he's in front of the pearly gates of heaven and an angel is making him confess all the wrong things he did, except in this scenario you're the angel and the things he did are just what he thinks about all of this. About you in general.

And you're right, he doesn't usually say sorry. The words get stuck in his throat and he just gapes up at you, still catching his breath. Pathetic.

You sigh, then go to close the door. You don't look at him anymore and he feels like he can't breathe, and not because of the run.

"I'll come get my things next week. Go home, you'll get wet," you say. And your voice is clear, you're not mumbling, you must have thought about this. He sees how hard you're clenching your jaw to appear resolute, your nails hurting your palms from how hard you're closing your hands. But you still manage to worry about him, worry about him possibly catching a cold from the rain. And he loves you. Fuck, he loves you so much.

"Wait," he manages to say. You look at him with longing. With sorrow.

And he feels like he's crying to the angel in his afterlife when he opens his mouth again, thorns in his throat getting tighter, suffocating him. But he doesn't cry here, in front of you, even if maybe you'd like it. You'd probably say that you appreciate him showing emotions, maybe tease him for it, but you'd like it. He'd kiss you while you're still laughing, saying you're stupid, and you'd continue laughing.

"I love you," he rasps out. The words feel so unfamiliar to his tongue, but so familiar to his ears. You always tell him you love him. "I'm sorry for being a shithead. Please don't leave me. I promise you I'll get better at this communication shit," he begs.

You still don't move, but he sees you getting softer.

"Go home, Sukuna. We'll talk about it when it's not raining," you utter.

"No, I don't fucking want to," he snaps. You're startled, and he cringes. He's really not used to all of this. He doesn't like scaring you.

"Fuck, I meant to say I want to get over it right now. I didn't want to scare you. I want you back, Y/N. Please, have me back. I'll get better for real," he says while getting progressively closer to you.

"You promise?" You ask, now shorter than him. You're a step of distance from each other.

"I promise, baby. I'll make you the happiest girl to ever exist," he tells you, looking at you intensely.

"Start by saying you love me again," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He engulfs you in his own arms, inhaling the smell of your shampoo, then snorts.

"Sure. I'm in love with you, brat."

Being in a relationship with Sukuna is hard, but he loves you easily.

[captainsophiestark]

Don't Believe Everything You Read

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day Three Prompt: "I know you better."

Summary: A wannabe Whistledown is posting some awful rumors, but luckily for Anthony, his wife knows him well enough that she doesn't believe them.

Word Count: 1,247

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, tightening my hands on the book I was reading and trying to refocus on the words. I'd been having a nice, peaceful morning in Bridgerton house (a truly rare feat) until Eloise and Benedict had started some commotion near the door to the sitting room.

I'd married Anthony almost a year ago now, but I still hadn't learned how to block out his siblings quite as well as he did.

I managed to finish another paragraph before the commotion at the door distracted me again. I glanced at the pair out of the corner of my eye, and found them having a whispered argument, both glancing in my direction every few moments. I sighed. The rest of my story would have to wait until later.

Slowly and quietly, so as not to draw too much attention from the Bridgertons by the door, I makred my page in my book and set it down on the couch. I stood, drifting over toward Eloise and Benedict. Eloise had something in her hand, and it seemed to be the genesis of hers and Benedict's hushed argument. I got a little closer and recognized the shape and style of a scandal sheet.

Eloise and Benedict had gotten steadily more heated in their argument, and when Eloise flailed the paper in my direction, I snatched it out of her hand.

She and Benedict both whirled in my direction, but I'd made it halfway across the room before either of them got a chance to take the paper back.

"Don't read that!" Benedict shouted, chasing after me.

"You have a right to read it, but you might want a bit of a heads up first-"

I cut Eloise off by darting well out of their reach and reading one of the headlines of the scandal sheet.

Viscount Bridgerton Stepping Out On His New Wife?

I snorted and rolled my eyes. I quickly scanned the rest of the article, which went on to talk sensationally about all these rumors surrounding Anthony and a mysterious new mistress. Not a word of it was believable, of course, and at least one of the reports of Anthony strolling at night with a strange woman was just me, wearing new clothes the rest of the Ton hadn't seen yet. I barely made it to the end of the article before I started laughing.

I looked up to find Eloise and Benedict looking at me warily. I just shook my head.

"This is certainly no Lady Whistledown, is it?" The pair raised their eyebrows at me, still tensed like they were worried the laughter would turn to tears. I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, both of you. I know Anthony, I know this is ridiculous. Clearly whoever's writing this nonsense has too much free time on their hands. Or maybe not enough, since they couldn't come up with anything more realistic than this."

"So... you're not upset?" asked Eloise.

"No, El, I'm not. I know the man I married. This," I waved the paper around in my hand, "is just funny."

She and Benedict let out massive sighs as one.

"Well, that's certainly a relief," said Benedict. "I suppose Eloise and I were getting worked up for nothing."

"And likewise, you interrupted my reading for nothing," I said. "You're welcome to stay if you're quiet, but otherwise, I appreciate the laugh, but would appreciate more the return of my peaceful reading space."

"You have chosen the sitting room as your peaceful space," Benedict said. "That might not offer you the highest chance of remaining undisturbed."

"You make a fair point, but you also seemed to want to keep this scandal sheet from me completely, so I think today I can kick you out."

"Fair enough. Eloise?"

"I was supposed to meet Penelope before I found the scandal sheet with the mail. I'm already a bit late," she said with a wave over her shoulder as she headed out of the room. Benedict gave me a teasing bow, then followed his sister out of the room.

I sighed, then settled back in to my original place on the couch. I made it through another few pages before the door of the sitting room went flying open, the door making a loud bang as it slammed into the wall. I jumped and whirled around to find Anthony, looking like an absolute mess as he crossed the room in just a few strides before sliding to his knees before me. His hair stuck up at all angles and his clothes looked disheveled. He took my hands in his and started speaking before I could get a word out.

"My love, it's not true. Not a word of it. I love you, you must know that. I would absolutely never, ever go behind your back, would never even dream of spending time with anyone else-"

"Anthony, my god! Take a breath, what are you talking about?"

"I saw Eloise. She told me you'd read the scandal sheet sent out this morning. But you must know, it was a lie."

"Did you happen to wait for Eloise to tell you my reaction before you raced in here?"

"No. I worried... I didn't want to waste a moment before speaking with you. I promise, I would never do that to you. There's no one else and there never will be-"

"I know! Anthony, believe me, I know." I slid to the ground along with him, chest to chest as I kept his hands held tight in mine. "You think I'd believe some ridiculous wannabe Whistledown telling me you're a cheater? I know you better. I know you best. I know you would never do that to me, that I can trust you, no matter what. Even if Whistledown herself had reported it, I wouldn't have believed a word."

"...Truly?"

"Absolutely! We're rock solid, Anthony. I honestly wouldn't have married you if I didn't trust you."

He sighed, all the tension easing from his body as he slumped forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

"I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that."

"I'm glad we got your worry cleared up quickly," I said. "Although, if you had paused to talk to Eloise for another moment, she could've told you I started laughing the minute I read those ridiculous reports."

Anthony picked his head up to look at me, pulling me closer to him as he did.

"I'm much happier to have heard it from you directly. Especially since it means I can do this."

He leaned in, a grin on his face, and kissed me. I ran my hands up his back and into his hair, but pulled away after just a moment. Anthony moved to follow me, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Anthony, we are in the sitting room! Anyone could walk in on us at any moment."

"Good. Then they'll know the rumors are just that, and that nothing could ever come between the two of us."

"Anthony."

"Fine. This is an easy fix as well."

With that, he stood, picking me up and carrying me out of the room. I laughed, not even bothering to mention my book that now lay forgotten on the sofa. Anthony and I had other plans for the rest of our morning, it seemed, and I couldn't say I minded them. Anthony and I were happier than I ever thought we could be, and nothing was going to interfere with that, especially not some ridiculous gossip rag.

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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Bridgerton Taglist: @cherrybb-ily

[marypaol]

Copy Of A Copy

Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Summary: Whatever is drawn on your skin shows up on your soulmates skin.

Warnings: Annoyance, Draco being Draco, I honestly can’t think of anything let me know if you see something!

Note: I’ve been planning on writing this for so long and I’m finally doing so! Hope you guys enjoy. :)

Masterlist

Request Requirements

The pale fingers of the Slytherin carefully-but skillfully- chopped the ingredients for the Potion, trying to cut out the conversation of Potter and Weasley. They were clearly trying to keep their voices down but failing to do so due to Draco’s hearing abilities.

It was at that moment he wished he was temporarily deaf, so that he didn’t have to hear the bickering of Potter and wanna-be-Weasley.

“Haha! Look at Seamus, Malfoy.” Crabbe said, his big face scrunching up as his fat finger pointed to the clumsy boy across the room. Draco spared a glance, seeing the boy with a black face, looking into his potion helplessly as the explosion just occurred. Malfoy rolled his eyes, shooting Crabbe a glare before looking back to his task at hand.

But, when he glanced at his hand, he saw little flowers forming, the ink moist as whoever was drawing it was doing it in real time. Petal after petal appeared, forming a decent picture. He grumbled, grabbing the towel Seamus used to wipe his face and aggressively rubbed the skin, terribly smearing the ink on the back of his hand, the flowers mushing together, making it not look so decent anymore.

He flung the towel on the table beside him, and picked up the knife he placed down, going back to his previous actions.

“What now, Malfoy?” Goyle asked. Draco snarled.

“Stupid soulmate drawing on their skin again. Seriously, they can’t draw on a piece of parchment?” He complained, his chops becoming more harsh on the cutting board.

Goyle shrugged. “Unless they’re bored in class. What is it anyway? Little reminders?”

“No, course not! In fact, I’d rather it be that instead of rubbish drawings of dumb flowers! Look at that rubbish,” Draco started, repeating the word he said earlier with a bitter taste growing in his mouth. He showed the two boys what was left of the flowers on his hand. “Honestly, how ugly.”

The two boys agreed, but they had hints of smiles on their faces.

Draco noticed and barked. “What’s so funny, boys?”

The smiles dropped instantly on Goyle’s face but Crabbe still had a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nothing, just that your soulmate draws on her skin.”

Draco squinted. “And what’s so funny about that? Enlighten me, I’d rather laugh than roll my eyes.”

Goyle shrugged. “Just that she must be doing it in purpose. Ya know, for you to see?”

Draco thought about it for a moment, ignoring the new lines forming on his hand.

“Why would I want to see this?” Draco wondered, irritation brewing inside him. “Especially on my hand, I don’t need it there, it’s annoying really.”

“You know how girls are. She’s desperate, man.” Crabbe jumped in, entering the conversation once he found out Draco wasn’t as upset as he thought.

Draco scoffed. “You know what, you’re right, Crabbe. She’s desperate for me. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s annoying and I don’t want it there.”

Draco then finally looked down at his hand, and this time he saw an eye with shading, the smooth strokes of eyelashes now forming on his skin. Once she was done, Draco saw more stokes forming above the eye, and, wondering what it is, leaned forward to see what she was drawing. It turned out to be an eyebrow, but the way the lines were drawn helped Draco see the direction the hairs were going in, adding detail to the drawing he didn’t know was needed.

He gripped the towel between his finger tips of his other hand, but he felt some sort of guilt eating at his chest for rubbing away such work. But he didn’t want to be walking around with silly eyes and eyebrows on his hand, so with unwanted shame brewing in his chest he rubbed the fabric on the back of his hand, the once was ink smearing, covering his skin in black.

The girl frowned deeply as she watched once more the drawings she made were harshly rubbed away. The ink from her quill was a black blob now once the person was satisfied enough. Satisfied that the pictures were gone.

Her heart sank in her stomach for an unknown reason.

Well, she knew the reason, she just didn’t want to admit to herself that what her soulmate was doing was effecting her in this way.

She shouldn’t be surprised that he rubbed them off; I mean, who wants to walk around the corridors with silly drawings on the back of their hand? She didn’t have a problem with it, but he clearly did.

After the last moment of Lupin’s lecture faded away with the bell she grumbly got up and out her things away, making her way to the bathroom to rub the ink off. (Despite the nonexistent problem with walking around with drawings on herself, she did have a problem with walking around with a big ink smear in their place.)

She bent over the sink, her bag discarded at her feet as she rubbed the skin, forming red marks in their wake. The ink slowly ran down the drain, her heart going down with it.

She wished her soulmate accepted her actions on showing she was there, existing, live and breathing, to assure them that someone out there wanted them. But was he just embarrassed? Did he not want her as much as she thought he did? Did he have an annoyance towards the whole soulmate concept?

She sure hoped not, because her want to show her love was strong, yet the want to receive it was even stronger.

She wanted someone to love.

That loved her right back.

Did he even want that?

“Any drawings today, Malfoy?” Crabbe asked, a soft chuckle escaping his big mouth. Draco snarled at the boy beside him, also glaring at Goyle who was making interesting-meaning quite disgusting- noises while he was eating the feast the house elves provided.

The boy who received the glare quickly composed himself, swallowing the large amount of whatever it was down his throat, a loud gulping sound heard around the table.

Draco glared again.

Finally he turned to the other boy who addressed him earlier and replied reluctantly.

“No. Thank goodness. I’ve been sick and tired of constantly having to distress my skin; honestly, the embarrassment of walking around with a red tomato colored hand.”

Crabbe agreed with a hum, in the middle of chewing. Draco definitely noticed him paying extra attention to the noises he was making, so he didn’t annoy Draco any further.

“Never mind that,” Draco said, pulling through Daily Prophet out of his robes, long pale fingers flipping the pages until he got to the one he wanted.

“Father’s in the paper, as always.” He said proudly, showing the two boys the picture of his father. “Oh! And look!” He added, chuckling madly as he pointed to the same article, the name ‘Arthur Weasley’ printed as it told a story about him.

“Ridiculous, honestly.” Malfoy muttered, shoving the paper to Goyle across the table since he was (according to Draco) taking too long to read it.

“Ugh, Care of Magical Creatures today.” Draco complained, looking at his schedule. “That silly Hagrid, honestly, I swear I’m going to die each time I attend his classes.”

Goyle swallowed again. “Seriously, how many times does he have to bring in a deadly creature that might chop my head off-”

“Well I would certainly enjoy that.” Draco snapped. Goyle’s cheeks turned pink.

“God this place has gone to the dogs.” Draco muttered, stuffing his schedule in his pocket, taking one last gulp of pumpkin juice, and storming out of the Hall, and without question, the two boys followed him.

“‘Ello! Please step dis way,” Hagrid said, large hands clapping together. Draco scoffed but reluctantly followed the orders.

“Taken’ care of- well more of lookin’ at interestin’ creatures today; take a step back now.” He warned. (Malfoy gladly stepped back)

The crates ended up being full of slimy creatures Draco ended up forgetting the name of, too busy trying to keep his fingers attacked to his hands. “Gross, Goyle you do it.” He said, handing the boy the food and watched as his friend gave the creature its supper, hands shaking nervously.

Draco looked around as Goyle did the work, folding his arms as he watched with amusement as the Gryffindors struggled to feed the animals.

He then spotted another Slytherin working alone, the back of her head the only thing visible when it came to her features near her face.

Two small braids were on either side of her head, easily blending with her hair but he could see the twisted strands in the sunlight much easier.

She turned so he saw her profile, and, from what he could see, her eyes were bright but hesitant, a look of disgust on her lips as she fed the creature. As soon as all the food was gone, she instantly dropped the tool she was using to handle the food and grabbed a rag, wiping her hands off even though she didn’t touch it or the animal.

It was then Draco saw it. The small detail on her left hand, as so his.

A patch of distressed skin was there, in the same exact shape as Draco’s. He found himself looking at his own hand, then at hers, and back at his once again to double check.

They matched.

They matched.

Which means only one thing.

The girl that he’s never seen before, which was quite surprising since he often told himself that he knew all the Slytherins, was his soulmate.

What was more surprising though was something much weirder and stranger. And that something was this:

The realization didn’t bother him one bit.

Tag list: @thatonepupkai @squishneon @buttersuaa @bxtchsimp @amayaaaxx @ssailormoonn @redvelvet103 @yasmine12xxx @youreyesareasprettyasstars @cassiethefab @iambored24601

Thanks for liking the post! (I will also be tagging y’all in the Harry one- let me know if you changed your mind about it and don’t want to be tagged!) :)

Skin To Skin (part two!)

[yandere--stuck]

If you're still taking requests, would you be able to do something again with Arkhamverse Joker?? (Or even Scarecrow, ANYTHING with that skinny lil horror boy please) I love ALL of your Batman work.

Just give me anything, I'm starving for some dark and creepy batvillians.

“Alright, sweetheart, just tell me who did it,” The Joker cooed from behind you, his hands resting at the plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Both you and The Clown stood in front of the maw of the Sionis Steel Mill. You hadn't been outside in so long. The thought of making a run for it flitted through your mind, but you just as quickly discarded it. Joker was holding you pretty tight, but even if you broke free from his grip, presented before you was a line of Joker's men desperate to do anything to gain their boss's favor. And even if you made it through all that, you were smack dab in the middle of Arkham City. If the elements or starvation didn't get to you first, it'd be the other inmates - especially if they had gotten any inkling you might be precious to The Clown Prince of Crime.

Somehow, beyond all odds, you were the most safe in the arms of Gotham's most dangerous criminal.

Even with the multiple layers covering you, the wind cut through you like a blade. You'd been dressed in specially made pajamas the Joker commissioned, layers of winter clothing, and a large blanket he'd wrapped you up in before escorting you outside. And it made looking upon Joker's gang all the more uncomfortable. 

Compared to you, Joker's men wore precious little. Tank tops or sleeveless hoodies, some wearing no top at all, old worn pants, and their very own clown masks. You couldn't see their eyes, but you imagined that behind their masks, they glowered at you. Why wouldn't they hate you? After all, you were why they were freezing out here. Their boss had given them orders to never, under any circumstances, allow any harm to be brought unto you.

And then, Joker found the bruises.

“I don't want to get anyone in trouble,” You insisted, craving your neck to attempt eye contact with The Joker.

“Nobody's in trouble,” The Clown nuzzled you, voice almost a purr. “I just want to know who did it.”

You bit your lip. Something burned and swirled like a whirlpool in your stomach, rising to your chest. “It was my fault. I bumped into something.”

“Darling, it's okay. I'm not mad. Just point ‘em out for me.”

Your lips quivered and you screed your eyes shut. Burying your face in your hands, your whole body shook. You couldn't do this. You didn't want to. Sure, the guy roughed you up, but at least he didn't fucking kill you. And maybe whoever did it was a criminal at best or monster at worst, but you didn't want someone to die at the hands of The Joker because of you. You weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to be in Gotham proper, living your ordinary life and not in Joker's base. You weren't supposed to be the object of Joker's obsession. You shouldn't have had to be transported around by goons, goons who were already frustrated and pissed as it was, and only exacerbated by their boss’ obsession with you and threatening them if he even thinks they're looking at you.

God, why was this happening to you? You just want to go home! You couldn't even scream, couldn't even cry, not now, not like this-

One hand released its grip on your shoulder to press against your back and brush soothing circles against you.

“Honey, baby, sweetie-darling, there's no reason to be upset!” Joker hushed. “You're not in any trouble. I'm not mad. I just want to know."

Still shaking, you dared to turn and meet the Clown's gaze. Puffing out a cloudy mist in the icy cold air, you ventured, “You promise you're not angry?”

The Joker beamed, holding up a hand. “Scout's honor!”

The both of you stared at each other for a long moment. His pupils were dilated, acidic green eyes nearly swallowed up by his dilated pupils. He stared back at you with utter adoration. 

Really, him being angry would have been less terrifying.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. Ripping your eyes from him, you surveyed the crowd. The man in question wasn't hard to find. You knew the mask well. Lime green hair, a red clown nose, red, painted-on cuts and marks across the mask.

He was one of the henchmen ordered to transport you from one part of the base to another. You'd been terrified, shaking, near hyperventilating, and scared stiff to the spot. And he had grabbed you tight enough to bruise and shoved you through the halls, the other goons following behind. Just remembering it lit a spark of fear and anger in your gut. And even still, you hesitated to call him out.

Shivering, you slowly raised a finger to point at him, your digit like a death mark.

“Him,” you breathed out.

“Him?” Joker asked, pointing at the same man.

You nodded. You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes closed as The Joker waved him over.

The masked man approached both of you. You couldn't help but lean further into Joker. You tried to convince yourself it was the cold. He stopped a few feet away, but Joker motioned him even closer, until he was almost right on top of you both.

“This true, Bud?” Joker asked.

The masked man held his tongue for a moment. His whole body seemed tense. And if you had to guess, he was likely glaring daggers at you from behind the mask. And then finally, a soft sigh escaped him, body relaxing as he nodded. 

“Yeah, boss,” he admitted. “It was me.”

“And do you have anything to say to my darling here?”

Your breath caught in your throat as the goon turned directly toward you. You tried to keep totally still. Don't flinch. Don't show fear. You could feel his gaze burn into you. And Joker's grip tightened on your shoulder. Maybe reassuringly. Maybe possessively. 

The masked goon paused, simply staring at you, before he gave a lazy nod. “Yeah. ‘M sorry.”

Huh. That wasn't so bad. Turning to look at Joker you saw him nodding. A relieved smile began to bloom onto your face as you turned back to-

The sound of unfolding metal hit your ears. A gloved hand stretched out and yanking through hair. The stumbling forward of a body and. Your eyes widened as Joker grunted, pocket knife sinking into the man's throat.

He held it there for a moment, looking deep into the eyes of the man behind the mask, before wrenching the knife out. Blood spurted from the man’s neck as he gurgle, clutching his throat. Again, Joker struck, plunging deep into the man's neck and ripping it out. Again. Again. Again. And all you could do was watch, eyes the size of dinner plates and mouth agape in horror.

You finally found the ability to move your body again, and you hunkered down, hiding your eyes with your hands and stumbling back as Joker continued his assault. You shivered and shuddered, beginning to cry. You couldn't see it anymore, but you could hear the sounds of the blade meeting flesh, the desperate and violent gurgles of someone drowning in their own blood, the quick and sharp grunts of Joker as he plunged his knife in and out in and out in and out in and out-

You couldn't tell how long it went on, only that at some point, you couldn't hear anything else besides Joker's shaky breathing and the harsh whistling of the wind. Your hands and cheeks stung from cold and tears.

When you dared to uncover your eyes, The Joker was looking back at you. As if he was waiting for you to see - to see your attacker's head barely connected to his neck, near decapitated. The moment he saw the recognition in your eyes, the man's body was dropped like it was nothing.

"But, but," You stuttered, mouth trying to catch up with your mind. "You said, you said you weren't mad?'

"Not at you, darling," he smiled adoringly. "Never at you."

The Joker pocketed his bloody knife and clapped his hands free, addressing his men. “Now, let that be a lesson for all of you,” the clown leaned over to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You quickly cuddled into his hold (but only because of the cold. Only that and nothing more). Joker finished with a grin, “anyone who hurts my darling gets the same.”

Breathing heavily, your eyes surveyed the reactions of the henchmen. For some reason, you felt torn on how you felt about them. Pitied Joker's treatment of them, but was highly aware of their perspective of you being an obstacle, inconvenience, or even enemy-

You nearly jumped as Joker brought you out of thoughts by a kiss to the cheek. You were quickly turned around, The Joker guiding you inside and nuzzling against your cheek.

“You must be so stressed out, dear! C’mon, let's get warmed up inside and watch some cartoons!"

And when you're both inside, curled up together in a mound of blankets and cartoons playing on the screen, you tried to convince yourself tje obly reason you held him back was out of fear and to keep out the cold.

[legend-as-old-as-time]

Plot bunny for u: through unspecified fanfiction magic the Turaga go back to being Toa Hordika and freak out. The Hagah bring in recently reawakened Mata Nui (who lamented he would have liked to see the toa Hordika bc they sounded super cool and interesting) hoping he can work some god magic on them or just keep them entertained while they go look for Keetongu again bc the sasquatch fucked off right back into the mountains as is his right. They return to find Mata Nui squashed under a Metru cuddle pile as they incessantly chirp and whine for him to give them scritches and pats and kissies on the head. Hes been like that for roughly twelve hours and has never been happier

Aksdsfhgosdhgdhg-

This has sent me down a rabbit role for an appropriate plot device that transforms the turaga into Toa Hordika, and which would thematically connect with their interactions with Mata Nui. I haven't found an idea yet. But maybe later!

The Toa Hagah fetching Mata Nui makes sense. He's a god of life, especially through the Ignika. Mata Nui also tires easily and this will likely stay for decades to come, if not forever. And this is delicate work he needs all his focus for. So, no godly magic for the time.

The Toa Hordika are upset because this happened without their consent or control. Dragging up old trauma from the Visorak Horde and their failures.

It's also difficult not compare themselves to their more powerful siblings. (Failing to notice that neither the Mahri nor the Nuva had any control over their transformations, either.) Or not to feel as outsiders, again. They use their elemental powers differently. They have no access to their mask powers. They have instincts that go against what Metru Nui stood for.

(Things like: I want companionship. I want to rest. I want to play.)

With Mata Nui arriving? To say their perception of him is complicated is putting it simply. And they fear his judgement.

Not that it outwardly changes anything. They're the only group who hasn't visited him yet. Not even one of them. And now...

They've been hiding for two days since their transformation. No amount of begging, cajoling, assurances, and praise could get them out. Their friends are all busy so they're taking turns checking on them / staying close their hiding spot. The toa stay silent even when the Toa Hagah announce their arrival plus their guest.

Mata Nui doesn't need to be anywhere. Actually, what he needs most is rest, at best lying down. Pouks makes him a nice little hut if they are outside. They help him lay on his bedding. Whoever is on watching shift is now looking after him, too.

He doesn't mind. He's used to waiting. He'll wait as long as his Chosen need him to.

The Toa Hordika fear his judgement. They also need to see him. They need to know why he chose Them of all matoran in Metru Nui. Which ends up with them watching him sleep, slowly coming closer when none of their friends are looking.

Until one of them finds themselves staring directly into Mata Nui's eyes. They jump in the air from surprise. (Stopping for now because this is getting so long.)

[leafington]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙞 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩. - kento n.

content warning !! - enemies to lovers w nanami (i caved), blackfem!reader, ngh modelceo!reader, ceo!nanami, me putting my business and entrepreneurship knowledge to use, light intoxication, suggestiveness at the end

a/n - IM BACK YALL WOOOOOO, sorry for making u wait @jellicatty 🙁

For years, Nanami has held himself to competition with you and your company. If he had a tier-list of all the people he hated, you were a close second to Gojo. To say he hated your guts was an understatement, some thought he just had some sort of lingering grudge, others assumed you two just got off the wrong foot but they couldn't be far from wrong. That man practically wanted you dead, and that's a hard call to make from someone who was raised well.

His mother was nothing short of a good woman, she taught his son to do great things—respect elders, women, and children alike, offer up his seat to those who needed it more than him, never pray upon someone's downfall no matter how hard they made his life. Each and every time he comes across your presence, he closes his eyes and mentally apologizes to his mother.

Your being insinuates such hatred within him. The way you arose to popularity out of nowhere due to what? Daddy's money? Your looks that earned you sexiest woman alive four years in a row? He wasn't accepting that 'model starting their own company' bullshit, not that he didn't believe one couldn't, just not you.

He recalls the very first moment he met you, three years ago when you made his life hell. 'Japan's Top Model, L/n Y/n, announces her official clothing line.' Who knew a simple headline could turn his future upside down? At the time, he'd only heard of you once or twice over a news article or a random scandal that just so happened to sneak into his algorithm. But this was different, it effected him in every way possible.

Suddenly, he has competition. 'LVS' stocks had reached a pinnacle point within just a few weeks of launching, he'd never seen those abbreviations before, the next, his own business was constantly being compared to by this new threatening company. All things after that basically consisted of Nanami fighting for his top spot. You can't even describe how upset he was when he first met you. A beautiful woman, buttering up the chairman into letting you attend the business meetings that he [Nanami] went to, pretty tits bouncing when introducing yourself to the other members of the council, and that gleam of something in your eye when you finally met with Nanami.

"So you're the one hogging No. 1?"

He doesn't give a damn how many of the other pervs fell for your charm, to him, you were the devil in disguise.

Nanami Kento despised you with every fibre of his person. Even at this formal event.

"Sexiest woman alive"? Damn right you were. He can see how easily the others fell for you, if he didn't have his head screwed on tight, he would've been the next one to take you in the office.

That black sleeveless maxi dress kept him on his toes the entire night, curves and assets prominent. The way you held your glass of sparkling rosé, chatting it up with whoever that unfortunate soul was that thought they would get you in their bed after this was all over. Nanami held his own drink, a good amount of scotch that'd get him through the remainder of the event without bashing someone's head in. He's trying to listen to his colleague brag about his latest product of his work that's been selling well, but you being in his line of sight smiling and giggling seemed way more appealing.

In no way is Nanami a man who occupied himself with women, until he found a good place to settle and retire, a relationship didn't have any room in his life. To the best of his abilities, he ignores the now reciprocated exchange of stares, only sipping from the modern glass whenever he felt he needed the extra loosening.

And loose he was.

You look good. Too good. He turned his head to avoid indulging, not with the woman who's downfall he's prayed upon. Though it's far too late because that scotch is getting it's moneys worth having already downed three glasses and bringing him closer and closer to the woman he claimed he loathed.

His compliments were unlike anything he's ever thought of you. "You look stunning tonight." "Your stylist did an amazing job." "The pictures do you no justice." Drunk words are sober thoughts as they say. His eyes were telling more than his words, he wanted you bad.

Compared to any other elderly male he knew what to say to have you feel won over, even if you were well aware of his hatred towards you. So.. though it was just for a night, you returned the favor. Addressing his compliments with your own, insisting that the media makes such false claims about his person, feeling him up, and eventually dragging him to the bathroom to show him exactly how you shot to the top.

"You minx." He hisses as your kisses trail lower from his jaw. "Oh? What happened to all that talk you were doing?" You effortlessly tug his tie off, allowing it to hang from his neck. "Do you do this with every man you want to surpass?" He grits, fighting his natural urges to give in. "Very few, only the ones that act uppity and look good in a suit."

"Fuck... I hate you so much."

©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter Seven

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight|Chapter nine|Chapter ten

Hybrid!OT7 x Fem!Reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: none that I can think of rn lol

Word count: 1.4k

unedited

You woke up in a cold sweat, body trembling. You threw the heavy comforter off of you in a haste. The boys were no longer in your bed. 

A man.

A man that you not dare speak his name was now in your bed. A man from years ago, who you thought you had forgotten. Apparently you haven’t.

“Didn’t you miss me?” He whispered. You shook your head violently. It’s all a dream, you reasoned. I just need to wake up.

“I missed you. I think about you every day. Do you ever think about me?”

“No!” You yelled, now sobbing. “You left! You’re a coward! All you do is run.”

The man grabbed you by your hair gently, making you face him. He wiped the tears off your warm cheeks. “I won’t run this time.”

“I promise.”

Two words. Two words was all it took to wake you from your dream. Or was it a nightmare? It’s up to you to decide.

***

It was a cold, rainy morning. Yoongi sat by the window in the living room, watching water droplets splash off the leaves while bundled up in a fuzzy blanket. It was a drowsy morning for the boys. They were worried about their pack leader, of course. They were curious about his wellbeing.

They feared that they were next.

You did what you could to comfort them, but you knew that without Namjoon home, the boys were never going to feel true peace. It made you sick to your stomach thinking about what the researchers may be doing to him. Taehyung couldn’t sleep without being next to Jimin. Jimin was restless when sleeping without Jungkook.

And Kook had night terrors when he wasn’t cuddling with you.

Hoseok was jumpy. A knock at the door had him running. Thunderstorms woke him from his slumber. Jin was unusually caring. In the morning he already made breakfast, working on lunch. After showers, it gave Jin a sense of protection drying his pack members hair. He even made his rounds, room to room, making sure everyone was sleeping soundly. When Jin had a chance to rest his eyes, all he could picture was the people he loved be snatched one by one.

Yoongi had a caffeine problem.

A cup in the morning, cup in the afternoon, and a piping hot cup before bed. He believed it to be a stress reliever, but he was actually bouncing off the walls, having caffeine induced anxiety attacks. You even tried hiding the coffee maker, but to no avail. He found it every time. And he would never admit that he can’t relax without having the entire pack in his sight.

“Can I come in?” A knock at your office door awoke you from your thoughts. Jin, on the other side of the door with a cup of hot cocoa and a plate of bacon and eggs, awaited your response. “I don’t wanna interrupt.”

You pushed your rolling chair to the door, creaking it open for him. “No, you’re not interrupting anything. Just doing some research...This for me?” You pointed at the plate of food in Jin’s hand. He nodded, handing you the warm plate carefully.

“And don’t worry about cleaning. Tae already put everything away. Watcha researching?” His eyes roamed your desk. A map with written directions. An article titled: Dr. Kim Petitions Court for Hybrid Rights.

And a piece of torn paper with a phone number on it and a fancy name.

“Who’s Hongjoong?” Jin asked you, a little more aggressively than he thought. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You’re free to talk to whoever, I just-“

“It’s okay”, you giggled, showing him that you’re in no way upset. “I was actually going to talk to you guys about something, but now that you’re here I guess I’ll tell you. Come sit”. You pat the velvet ottoman across from your desk. 

“I wanna get your thoughts before I tell the others.”

“Tell the others what, exactly?” Jin sat down with ease, a lot of curiosity.

You prepared your thoughts. How do I say that I want to take the countries most wanted hybrids to the research facility where their pack leader is being kept?

“W-what?”

Shit, I said that out loud.

 “Wait! Im so sorry! Fuck, that came out wrong. I was trying to say that I found a way for us to get Namjoon back, but it requires a lot of work”. You hoped that eased Jins worries. You hoped he would ponder of over the idea, give it some thought. You hoped he would say yes and convince the others.

You hoped.

“So, you want to travel with six hybrid criminals, in hopes of breaking out another hybrid criminal, and make it back home in one piece? Im confused.”

Rightfully so. You didn’t have it all planned out. You didn’t give him all the details. You didn’t even know the details yourself! Now, you’re putting your trust in an old friend who claims that he believes in hybrid rights?

Sounds like a bunch of horse shit to Jin.

“Jin please just hear me out”, you begged. “I have this friend- well old classmate, really. He’s a researcher who is currently on strike for his beliefs on hybrid testing and abuse. If I can get to him, he might be able to help us get Joon back.”

You could see the look on Jin’s face. He was still dubious, and he had every right to be. Why do we have to go? He wondered. Can you promise me we’ll make it back?

“You want my honest opinion?” You nodded frantically. “Okay...”

He paused. “I feel like it’s a shitty idea.”

“Jin-“

“No! You wanna know what I think? I think it’s a dumb fucking idea! God knows what will happen on the way there. Not to mention, Joon may already be dead! Then you have led us into a trap where we will all face the same fate, you included!” 

You sighed. You were getting nowhere. Dead end after dead end. It seemed hopeless.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

A notification popped up on your phone. It was a text message. One that you didn’t expect…

Kim Hongjoong 8:35 AM

Hey, it’s been a while

Been thinking about you…

Im actually back home visiting my parents

Was wondering if you maybe

wanted to catch up?

***

He felt like he was floating. His body was beaten and bruised. His hearing was foggy. He couldn’t hear the whisperings going on in the lab, but he could hear the banging on the metal bars of his cell.

“Leave him!” One researcher yelled. “Dr. Kim said not to touch him until he gets back! Do you really want to upset him?”

The other guy rolled his eyes. “Why would I care what he says?”

“Maybe because he signs our checks?” The researcher continued his tasks, analyzing Namjoons blood in the glass test tube. “Can you at least try to not sound like an asshole?”

The guy smirked, banging on the bars one more time.

“Not possible.”

***

That night you curled up in bed with a good book, needing a distraction. The pack wanted to sleep together, leaving you with a bed all to yourself. You knew how they felt about you, perceiving you as part of the pack, but it didn’t feel right to impose on their personal time together. You’re human after all. You might not ever truly be apart of them…

“You think loudly. Your face shows it all”

You jumped, throwing your book to the side. Wasn’t like you were reading it anyway. “My god Yoongi! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He shushed you. “Keep it down. It took forever for everyone to go to sleep. I almost didn’t make it here”, he laughed, making his way to the left side of the bed. You scooted over to give him room.

“I thought you guys were sleeping together tonight?” You asked. “Isn’t this like a pack violation or something?” Yoongi stuffed himself under the covers and rested his head on the pillow.

“Just lay down and shut up”, he huffed.

“Well, excuse me”, you giggled, reaching over to your nightstand and turning off the light. Yoongi held his arms out, an invitation for you to be held. He seemed to always know exactly what you needed. “Thanks Yoon.”

“Anytime my love, anytime.”

Taglist! (still open for you guys!)

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[rwby-encrusted-blog]

???: All My life I'd been told the same thing ...

~~~~~

Hunter Mouse 1: Out of the way Runt!

Hunter Mouse 2: All you're good for is bait YOu little- Little!

~~~~~

Little: Their words were harsh, their tongues as sharp as their spears.

Little: But I'd show them.

~~~~~

Rusted Knight: So you wish to learn to Hunt, Little Mouse? Well, I believe I know just the Place to learn! My own Alma Mater, Beacon Academy!

Little: Well how do I get there?

Rusted Knight: It will be a very long trek for one such as yourself!

Little: I can make it!

~~~~~

Little: I crossed impossible blockages ...

Little splashes haggardly through a tiny puddle of water caused by a light rain

Little: Outsmarted Brilliant Enemies ...

Little Sprints through the Red Prince's Castle

Little: Faced the greatest of foes ...

~~~~~

CC: Where are you going Little Hunter Mouse?

Little: To be the best I can Be!

~~~~~

Little: But even when I made it to the Academy ...

Little avoids the tromping boots of humans around them

Little: I found I needed Help. So I went searching ...

Little sprints through the Vale Streets, searching for someone with a weapon like at the academy.

Little: And Searching ...

Little scurries into a quiet, but smelly and populated place.

Little: And searching.

~~~~~

Qrow: Yeah, Poor Rube's is ... She's uh ... got a lotta heart but she needs to put some more work in ... Could use help.

Little: Hmm ... If only I knew who that was!

~~~~~

Little: And as luck would have it ... She was searching for me too.

~~~~~

Ruby: Are- Are you Robbing me?

Roman's Goon: Yeah!

Little: *Grabs Ruby's Hair*

Ruby: *Throws the goon through the Window*

Ruby: Ow- My hair!

Little: Sorry! I just wanted to help!

Ruby: Who-

Roman's other Goons: HEY HERO!

Ruby: *Grabbing CR*Aw Crud! (Whoever you are keep helping me out!)

Little: (I'll Try!)

Ruby: *Shoots a guy into the next one* (nice Shot!)

Little: (Thanks?)

~~~~~

Little: I'll never forget what happened ...

~~~~~

*At some point after Ozpin's offer*

Ruby: *Tearing her hood off* (Okay, Who Are you!)

Little: I'm called little! It's nice to really meet you!

Ruby: ... you're a mouse.

Little: A hunter mouse!

Ruby: and you're talking.

Little: Yeah, a lot of other mice here are feral. It's a bit scary!

Ruby: Okay. You know what? Either I'm in a dream I don't wanna wake up from, or this is really happening.

Ruby: Why- What- how did you-

Little: I'm here to be the Greatest Hunter I can be! To help people and not just be ... a Little runt!

Ruby: I ... know that feeling.

Ruby: Hey ... I want to be the greatest Huntress in the World ... And you wanna be the greatest Hunter in the world ... Ozpin only gave me that offer because you helped me fight Torchwick!

Little: Yeah? It was fun!

Ruby: yeah! but neither of us could've done it alone-

Little: So we work together?

Ruby: Yes! *Holding out her finger to shake* Deal?

Little: *Grabbing Ruby's finger* Deal!

~~~~~

Little: Because it was the Beginning of our journies to be the Greatest there ever was!

~~~~~

RATASHOOTIE

Coming soon to own on Video and DVD!

~~~~~

Nora: That's the Pitch! Now, I'm torn between the taglines "A Little hope goes a Long Way," "On a Hair Trigger," and "The Hunt is On!"

Nora: What do you think is Best?

Ruby: ... Nora?

Nora: Yeah?

Ruby: This is-

Jaune: Going to be a masterpiece! As for the tagline- "The Hunt is on" is my favorite! It's a little cheesy, Not as punny as "on a hair trigger" and not as bland as "A Little hope goes a Long Way."

Nora: Thank you JAune! What were you saying Ruby?

Ruby: This is insane! How did you Fund this!

Nora: Weiss.

Ruby: ... *Clicks tongue, nodding* Yeah. Yeah that makes sense. She the Director?

Nora: Her and Whitley are going to be handling the Score.

Ruby: Hmm. Well, Yang would be upset if you didn't go with the Pun ... So I agree with Jaune!

[lucy90712]

By your side- Jude Bellingham

I thought I had my life together I was engaged, planning a wedding and had just found out I was pregnant everything seemed so perfect. I don't know how it all went wrong so quickly I just came home from work to be greeted with a note from my fiancé saying he was leaving me because he had been cheating and felt he was more in love with the other woman. He was so kind to let me have the house that I bought and only took his things from it although he did leave the place in a mess doing so. To start with I didn't feel anything as I was so in shock but once it sunk in I haven't stopped crying. Luckily finances aren't a worry for me as I make a good amount of money so I can continue to pay all the bills and can afford everything for the baby but having no support has been hard especially because no one knows I'm pregnant as I'm still quite early on. 

All of this happened Friday so I haven't been back into work yet and I know I should probably take some time off to figure things out and give myself time to work through my feelings but I need the distraction I can't wallow in self pity anymore. Luckily today I just have a lot of paperwork to do so I'll be in my office just getting on with things not talking to the players who would definitely ask questions as to why I'm not wearing my ring. Something I didn't account for out of pure stupidity is all my co workers as soon as I arrived they asked about my weekend just to be nice but just being reminded of everything that happened hurt. One then asked where my ring was as I never take it off and I had to just lie and say I took it off for something and forgot to put it back on all while trying to hold back tears. 

When I was finally in the confines off my office I couldn't hold back the tears anymore my whole world has been turned upside down and here I am trying to act like everything is normal which is so much harder than I thought. Even my office still portrays my perfect life my pc background is of me and my ex fiancé and I have so many pictures of us throughout my office. In my desk draw I even have an ultrasound picture from my first ultrasound which made me think about the fact that my baby has to grow up without a dad which I was so against for my own kids as I know the struggle. 

As I was sobbing I thought I heard a knock at my office door but no one said anything so I just kept crying until I felt a hand on my shoulder which scared the living daylights out of me. Part of me wanted to punch whoever or whatever was behind me but instead I just jumped back and turned around at the speed of light. My soul came back into my body when I realised that it was just Jude although I still kind of wanted to punch him for scaring me so badly. That's when it hit me that Jude had just seen me crying my eyes out and I have to explain why I was so upset which only made me cry again thinking about it. Jude knelt down in front of me and tried to wipe my tears as they fell but he couldn't keep up so instead he tried comforting me to stop the tears altogether. 

It took a while but eventually I had no more tears left to cry and I was forced to try and regulate my breathing again. As I tried calming myself down my morning sickness kicked in at full force and my options were throw up all over Jude or try and make to to the bathroom so I picked the second option and ran towards the bathroom. I made it just in time and apparently so did Jude as I felt him gather my hair and hold it back while rubbing my back. He must think I'm insane as I've just cried in front of him for 20 minutes now I'm throwing up but his opinion of me is the least of my worries right now. 

"Are you ok?" Jude asked once I had stopped throwing up 

"Yeah I'm fine" I lied 

"Whats wrong and before you tell me there's nothing wrong I know there is no one cries that much for no reason" Jude said 

"I'm just going through a hard time" I said 

"Look you don't have to tell me but it might help to get things off your chest plus I promise I won't tell anyone" he said 

"Ok but be prepared it's a lot" I said 

"Friday night when I got home my fiancé left me a note saying he was leaving me for another woman that he'd been cheating on my with for nearly a year and to top it all off I'm 10 weeks pregnant with our baby" I explained 

"Oh wow that is a lot" he commented 

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry" I said suddenly feeling insecure 

"No no I don't mean it like that I just wasn't expecting you to be holding onto so much I don't know how you are even here right now I'd be wallowing in bed" Jude said which made me smile 

"Look I know we aren't extremely close but you confided in me and as long as you'll let me I want to be there to support you with anything you need and I mean anything if you need a shoulder to cry on I'll be there and if you want someone to beat up your ex I'm on it" he said completely seriously 

"Thank you your support would mean a lot just don't tell anyone at least not right now" I said 

"You got it I won't utter a word to anyone else until you are ready" he said miming zipping his mouth

~~~~~~~~~~

3 months later 

The last few months have been difficult but Jude has made my life so much easier. Every day after training he comes to my office usually with a snack of some form and just sits and talks with me as I work. He also gave me his number so anytime I need to talk I can call him or text him and he'll be right over no matter the time. He's been more caring and supportive in the last few months than my ex ever was throughout our whole relationship. I've come to realise that maybe this situation isn't all bad as if none of this had happened I'd still be with my ex settling for what I know now was a shitty relationship at best. He never cared for me he was just there and did what was necessary to stop me leaving but Jude has taught me that I deserve better as even though we are just friends I've enjoyed his company way more than my ex's.

Not only has Jude been there for me emotionally he has been physically present when I need him. He has come to some baby appointments with me he is too busy to make them all but he tries to be there as often as he can. The first time he came he didn't come in with me he just waited outside for me but the second time I let him come in and since then if he can make it he always comes in with me. It has been nice having someone else with me to keep me calm as they check that the baby is developing as they should be and having someone else there when I found out the gender was nice too. I think Jude was more excited than I was to find out I was having a girl I went sure if I wanted to find out but Jude convinced me as he wanted to plan an on theme baby shower for me so that I had some good memories of this pregnancy.

Today is the day of the baby shower and I haven't had to lift a finger Jude and some of the other boys have planned it all and are setting up. The party isn't even being hosted at my place Jude said he'd set everything up at his and he promised to pick me up so I'm literally doing nothing other than turning up. My morning was so relaxing I was able to spend as much time as I wanted getting ready doing my hair and makeup all nice and putting on my dress which I got when out with some friends as they insisted that I looked too good not to buy it. For the first time in a while I actually felt really good, pregnancy has been really hard on my self confidence but I must admit that I look good all done up. 

Jude arrived right on time to pick me up and he even brought me a cupcake in case I was hungry which at this point in my pregnancy I pretty much always am. When we arrived Jude made me close my eyes and led me all the way through his house back outside to the garden where I opened my eyes to see everyone already there and everything decorated perfectly. I nearly cried seeing everyone there for me I've felt so alone and like no one cares about me at times but knowing that they all took time out of their days to come here means so much to me. I made my way round and talked to everyone thanking them all for coming before Jude dragged me away and got me to sit next to a table which was stacked with gifts. Everyone had gotten me such lovely things and some essentials some of which I hadn't even thought about myself yet. Once I had opened everything from everyone Jude invited it was time to open the things he had gotten for me. He went completely overboard getting all sorts of really expensive items such as cribs, car seat, stroller he thought of it all. 

"Thank you so much Jude you don't need to get me all this in fact you shouldn't have it's all so expensive" I said 

"I wanted to you've had a hard time and you deserve nice things for the baby which I knew you wouldn't get for yourself" he said 

"Well thank you I don't know what else I can say or do to show you how much I appreciate all this" I said 

"You don't need to do or say anything I can tell by the tears in your eyes that you appreciate it and knowing you are happy is all I need" he said 

~~~~~~~~~~

4 months later 

So many people have told me to stop working and start my maternity leave but I just hit 38 weeks so I have a bit more time left and I don't want to waste my time off if the baby could not arrive for up to 3 weeks. I need as much maternity leave available for after the baby is here as possible as I'm the only one who will be looking after her and I can't bring myself to put her in daycare until she's closer to one which is when I'd come back to work. Working while this pregnant is difficult as I can't move as quickly as I used to and I have to pee what feels like every few minutes but I push through and get everything done with a bit of help from coworkers and Jude when he's around. 

This morning I woke up with pain in my lower back which isn't completely unusual but for some reason it felt different to the back pain I normally have. Despite the pain I got myself ready for work and drove to the training centre as that's where my office is. I made it to my office and started turned on my pc and started gathering the things I need for the day when I felt liquid tricking down my leg then it happened a big gush of what looked like water hit the floor. It felt like time stopped for a few minutes as I just stood there looking at the floor panicking slightly because as much as I tried to prepare for this moment now it's actually happening it's quite scary. Past me was prepared for this situation though as she brought spare clothes to the office a few weeks ago and I put my hospital bag in the car just incase. 

After a few minutes of panicking my rational brain kicked in and I got myself changed and found my phone so I could start timing my contractions. I waddled my way from my office down to the physios area of the training centre as I knew Jude would be there as he picked up an injury a few weeks ago so he's still getting treatment. My idea was to just deal with the contractions on my own for a while until I felt like I needed to go to the hospital but they were slightly more painful than I expected and I just didn't want to be alone. Jude had told me if I needed him he'd make himself available so I’m definitely going to take him up on that at least for a little while. 

He was exactly where I expected him to be but he definitely wasn't expecting to see me because as soon as he spotted me he told the physio to stop what he was doing and leapt off the bed towards me. There was a moment where he was clearly processing what must be going on as I never come and find him during the day and definitely not wearing comfy clothes like I am right now. It took him a second but it eventually he worked out why I was there and he looked just as panicked as I felt. 

"Oh my god are you ok do we need to go to the hospital?" He asked 

"First off I'm as good as I can be and two we can't go yet my waters have just broken I just didn't want to be alone" I said 

"Ok let me talk to Carlo and then we can go back to your office until it's time" he said 

"Wait do you need anything?" He asked before running off 

"Just some water please I didn't get chance to fill up my bottle" I said 

"Got it go back to your office and I'll be there before you know it" he said 

He wasn't wrong he got there just after I did although he did have the advantage of being able to run and not having to stop for contractions. As soon as he arrived he took over the timing of my contractions and let me squeeze his hand when I needed to although I didn't want to hurt him so I didn't squeeze too hard. Things started progressing a lot quicker than I expected and my contractions really started to hurt as they got closer and closer together which made it harder to stop myself from making too much noise like I had been. 

"Thats 5 minutes apart now" Jude said 

"It fucking feels like it" I groaned

"Do you have everything in your car?" Jude asked 

"Yeah my hospital bag and car seat are all in there" I replied 

"How about I drive your car to the hospital then so you can have everything you need" he suggested 

"That sounds like a good idea but when we get there please don't leave I don't think I can do this on my own" I said 

"I won't leave you don't worry as long as you want me there I'll be there but if you want me gone at any point just tell me it's all up to you but first let's get to the hospital" he said 

From the second we arrived at the hospital things went by so quickly I'm not sure that I remember everything that happened. What I do know is that I was already 6cm dilated when we arrived and things only progressed from there. I did a lot of walking around trying to let gravity do some of the work but when a contraction hit I couldn't keep going I had to grab onto whatever was nearest which sometimes was the bed and other times was Jude as he followed me around. 

When it got to the point that I was nearly ready to start pushing I considered whether I wanted Jude to stay because I really value the bond we've built over the last few months and I don't know if I want to ruin that by making him watch me give birth. My feelings for him go past that of just friends but of course he doesn't feel the same way as why would he want someone who's just about to birth another man's baby. Maybe having him stay would mean he doesn't want to see me again which would help me get over my feelings but then again I don't know if a harsh break in our friendship is what I need right now. In the end my fear of doing this alone won so I asked Jude if he was comfortable staying and to my surprise he said yes and promised he wouldn't look while laughing which definitely lifted the tense atmosphere in the room. 

All the doctors and nurses filed into the room and put my bed in the right position and put my legs in the foot holds on the bottom of the bed. Jude was stood right by my side as the nurses instructed me on how to breathe and when to push. It was definitely painful but the nurses and Jude kept encouraging me which kept me going even when I wanted to give up. All it took was a few minutes until I heard the most amazing sound of my daughter crying for the first time. There was no energy left in me to use to stop the tears so I just let myself cry and the tears only intensified when my baby girl was placed on my chest for the first time. She was just so perfect I don't think I've ever felt more love for anyone or anything in my life. Jude tried wiping the tears from my face but they were only replaced by more in just a few seconds. 

The nurses had to take my baby girl to do all of the necessary tests to make sure she is healthy which pained me as I just wanted to hold her but I know it's important. It was only then that I realised that I was still holding Jude's hand so I went to let go but he just held my hand tighter. I looked into his eyes and he too had tears in his eyes which made me even more emotional. His free hand pushed my hair back as it had become a mess over the many hours of labour I had been through. As he moved my hair out the way he leant down and completely unexpectedly his lips met mine in what was the best kiss I've ever had in my life. It was unexpected but I kissed him back pretty much straight away but he pulled away after a few more seconds. 

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that I crossed a line I'm sorry" he said 

"Don't be sorry I enjoyed it I've had feelings for you for a while I just didn't think you'd want me" I said 

"How could I not want the most beautiful girl in the world" he smiled 

"I hope you know I come with my mini me now" I laughed 

"I wouldn't have it any other way" he said 

[unreliablesnake]

Proposal (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: After a long day at work, you go home to Vincent, only to get a nice surprise from him.

Note: I can’t with this man. I needed him to be soft. I can imagine him being soft with his S/O. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: afab!reader, not exactly explicit smut, but I’ll say it’s smut anyway. MINORS DNI!!!

“Still working?” he asked over the phone, sounding annoyed that you were once again working late.

It was almost nine, he had sent a car for you two hours ago, but you told them you couldn't leave now. All you did was send Vincent a text that you couldn't have dinner with him that evening, and that you were utterly sorry for ruining his plans.

And now he was calling you to find out if now you could finally come home to him. You knew that although he would never admit it, he was a little jealous that some of your co-workers could spend more time with you than he could. It made you feel a little guilty, but you loved your job.

“We have to finalize this presentation for tomorrow, I can't leave until it's done,” you explained, pinching the bridge of your nose from tiredness.

Vincent let out a sigh. “Can I at least send you dinner?”

“Thank you, but we already ordered something from a nearby restaurant.”

“You owe me for the ruined dinner,” he suddenly said, his voice becoming serious enough to make you gulp.

It was painfully obvious that he had plans for the two of you for the whole evening, but with you choosing work over him, his ego was probably hurt a little. Not much, you knew he wasn't the kind to get stupidly upset about such things, but still enough to bug him for the rest of the night.

“I know. I'll make it up to you when I get home,” you said, but you didn't want to add whoever knows when that will be. “I promise. I love you, but I need to go now.”

He ended the call before you did without saying anything. It was okay, you were used to it after the almost three years you had spent together with shorter and longer breaks. Even though he tried to act like he was calm all the time, you knew he could be angry, mostly because of you. At least it felt like it sometimes.

You worked over two more hours on the project before you finally called it a day and caught a taxi outside the building. You knew you had to be extra nice to your boyfriend now, maybe even trying to coax him to take a nice, warm shower with you before getting in bed.

The security guards outside his home welcomed you politely, and you couldn't help but wonder once again why he needed them in the first place. Considering his wealth, one or two people would seem reasonable, but he had a smaller army for some reason. As usually, though, you dismissed these thoughts and walked inside.

“Good evening, Miss,” the butler welcomed you just as you stepped inside. “The Marquis asked me to inform you that something came up and he has to work tonight,” he said with a strange glint in his e

Nodding, you took off your coat and gave it to a maid. “Please, tell him I went to bed. Good night.”

What he did for work was something you didn’t know much about, but when he asked you not to worry about it, you did exactly that. You pushed all of your doubts and questions into the back of your mind, telling yourself whatever he did was perfectly legal.

You took a quick shower, painfully missing Vincent the whole time, then put on one of his dress shirts to have something to remind you of him until you finally fell asleep in the empty bed. A small smile crept on your lips as you played with the buttons, remembering the last time he found you wearing one of his clothes, specifically another one of his shirts.

“You should wear my clothes more often,” he had whispered into your ear once he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. “I would kill to see you in one of my three-piece suits. Don’t you want to play dress-up?”

Sleep came fast as you were surrounded by his scent, hugging his pillow to comfort yourself after this stressful and painfully long day. You didn’t look at the clock to see what time it was when you hit the bed, but after what felt like an hour or two, you were awakened by someone sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you found Vincent sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you with an adoring smile. “I’m sorry, but I had to wake you up,” he said.

“I’m sleeping on your side?”

He let out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head. “I would have put you on your side in that case. It’s something else, something important.” He stood up and extended his arm, offering to help you out of bed. “Come on, get out of bed and put on a robe.”

Without questioning him, you did as you were told, still half asleep, then asked, “Where are we going?”

“Outside,” was all he said.

With your fingers intertwined, he led you out to the garden, straight to a table that had a bottle of champagne on top along with two champagne flutes. The whole garden was illuminated, the table was surrounded by candles in different colors–your favorite colors–and a teardrop or two showed up in the corners of your eyes as you took in the sight.

You didn’t understand what was happening. Did you have an anniversary? No, you would remember that. Well, your phone certainly would. A birthday? No, it couldn’t be. Whatever the occasion was, he seemed determined to make you shed a tear, and damn it, he sure succeeded.

A smile was visible on his lips as he looked down at you, hands still stuck together. “I had plans, you know. I had it all planned out, starting with a romantic dinner, a nice walk in the city, then this here. I wanted to tell you everything I have on my mind, from memories to feelings, to the truth. Everything, no secrets.”

The truth? Secrets? What in the hell was he talking about? But as much as you wanted to ask him, no sound left your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, his beautiful face and bright green eyes. He mesmerized you and he probably knew perfectly well what kind of effect he had on you.

“But it’s late, you’re probably tired, so I’ll make it quick. Four years ago today–well, technically yesterday–I saw you on the street by accident. I remember because it’s hard to forget the day you see the love of your life for the first time,” he said as his thumb absentmindedly massaged your hand. “I’m not a conventionally good man. Before I go on, you need to understand that. But I love you. You’re a part of me now, and even if I carved you out of my life, I couldn’t exist like I used to before meeting you.”

He held a pause, waiting for you to think about what he had just said. So he wasn’t a good man. What could that mean? Was he a criminal? But as much as you wanted to worry about that, you simply couldn’t. You loved him too much, your feelings for him clouded your judgment. So you just nodded, silently telling him to go on.

“I want to make sure you won’t leave me. This is why,” he began as he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring from his pocket, “I wanted to ask you to marry me.”

“Oh, God,” you whispered as you raised your free hand to your lips. Were you truly awake? Or was it just a dream? You bit on the inside of your cheek, hoping it would wake you up if it was just a dream, but nothing happened. So this was real. He was watching you with an expectant look, and you couldn’t help but grin at him. “Yes!” you squealed happily.

Laughing, he put the ring on your finger then stood up to pull you into a passionate kiss. His hands wandered down your body, squeezing your ass tightly as he pushed your hips closer to his. “And you’re wearing my dress shirt under the robe. It’s my lucky day,” he said, more as a note to himself, rather than some nice words to you.

He opened your silk robe before his free hand moved up under the shirt to grab your breast, gently kneading it as his lips were still pressed to yours. You were in the garden, surrounded by bright lights, anyone from the staff could easily see you, but Vincent didn’t seem to care. And honestly, you couldn’t care much about it either.

Suddenly he took a step back, getting a pathetic whimper out of you when his lips and hands left your body, then he pushed the champagne bottle and the flutes on the ground to place you on top of the table instead of them. With a smile, your hands began to work on getting him out of his pants, eager to finally have him inside of you.

Sex was great with him. Depending on his mood, he was either gentle, someone who took his time to make you feel good, or rough and aggressive, taking what you had to offer to satisfy him. Today he was fully focused on your needs, putting his hand on yours to stop you before quietly telling you to just enjoy yourself.

After God knows how many orgasms, he finally stopped and gave you a soft kiss. The overstimulation was getting too much for you, but he was good, he could always tell when to stop. You pushed him aside after a few minutes, ready to get off the table, but your legs gave in, and you could only keep standing because he put an arm around your waist.

“It’s okay, baby, I got you,” he said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, then he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom of the master bedroom. “I’ll clean you up before we get in bed, okay?”

You nodded. He knew it usually took your brain around half an hour to start working properly again, until then he was forced to keep every conversation short and simple. You wanted to thank him, you wanted to tell him he was perfect for you, and how much you loved him, but no words left your lips.

But when he glanced up at you, you saw the knowing look that told you he knew that perfectly well. You two belonged together, it was now official thanks to that beautiful ring on your finger. He loved you, and you loved him. It was as simple as that.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Do we have any tiny bitty epilogue for Stellar Behavior 🥹 I just want to know more about their life after be mom&dad

Whoaaaaa, hi!! 💜

I didn't think I'd be able to answer you this month, but here we are! 💪

I hope you enjoy it 😚

Stellar Behavior 💜 Epilogue

Yoongi was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for the light to turn green. He was stressed. He couldn’t help it; every kilometer he drove away from you just tightened his heart.

The sun was rising in the sky, Seoul was fairly calm, there were barely any cars on the road, and yet he was more uneasy than during a police car chase or a media frenzy about a difficult trial. All because he was leaving you alone for the first time, and it just didn’t feel right.

You had tried to handle things by yourself initially, leaving him stupefied. You had just been kidnapped and gone through labor, and yet you bounced back like nothing he had ever seen. Your willpower alone was impressive, but your resilience was humbling. Yoongi didn’t know how you did it, but it only made him admire you even more.

Still, when you told him to return to work and pretend he didn’t have you and a newborn at home, he unequivocally said, “No.”

There wasn’t any way he wouldn’t be there for his family. He didn’t care if people knew he had a kid without even knowing he had a partner. He wasn’t worried that anyone would connect the dots. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, either; you and your baby had become the center of his world. Those who needed to know surely did by now; whoever found out would likely be careful. Yoongi wouldn’t hesitate to keep his family safe. That much he had made abundantly clear the very night his son was born.

But now, he was uneasy. He had to get back to work, and even though you were surrounded by trusted people, he just couldn’t relax. What if you were thirsty? What if your son had cramps again? What if you needed to nap? He knew you didn’t trust anyone to look after him while you slept.

He gripped the steering wheel and drove lethargically, dreading every millimeter—at least until you called; as soon as your name popped on the screen, he instantly picked it up: “Yes?”

“Are you busy?”

“Driving.”

“Can you call in sick?”

His lips twitched in a smile at your tone — just wondering aloud when he knew exactly what you were asking.

“Turning back right now.”

“Good.”

He returned utterly relaxed, happily taking every green light on his way home. He called his secretary absentmindedly, already wondering why you had called. You were typically like this. He already knew you well — it was difficult for you to say precisely what you needed from him unless you were face to face. Only when you were in his arms could you be vulnerable and reveal your deepest thoughts and wishes. Of course, you didn’t need a profound reason to want him back home, and for all he cared, you just had to wish for it, and he’d make it come true.

He went straight to the nursery and was surprised to find it empty. His next destination was your shared bedroom, but you weren’t there either, so he turned to a third choice.

Your office was the same as he had last seen it, except this time, you were pacing gently back and forth while you lulled your boy in your arms. The window in front of you let the daylight shine on your features, so he instantly noticed you were upset.

You heard steps behind you and turned, “Finally.”

“I was gone fifteen minutes,” he simply said, reaching to brush his sleeping son’s head before kissing your forehead.

Your body language could be rigid, but your expression instantly soothed, “Then it was fifteen too long.”

“Thought you wanted me back to work,” he teased quietly, snaking his arms around you, still holding your son to your chest.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

You melted into his arms, but he knew those eyes, “What’s wrong?”

You heaved a sigh, “There are a few… people… who tried to step on my toes,” you bit, looking down at your delicious son, drooling in his sleep. “Just the fucking audacity…”

You looked the strongest when it was about protecting your son, or him, and Yoongi loved it every single time.

So he let go of you and gently took your son out of your arms so he wouldn’t wake up. “Sounds like you need to get back to business sooner than I do.”

You caressed your baby’s cheek before sighing and looking up at Yoongi, “It does, doesn’t it?”

He smirked, “Knock’em dead.”

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Okay, I have a request idea if thats okay. Could I please request a Dhawan!Master x reader where master has found a special plant/ flower or something which alters the perceptions of the person. (Say if an enemy uses it on the victim then the enemy becomes the victims friend (or even more) and they plan to use it on the reader and while it's working/ being used. The reader sees and feels a lavender haze on them and they want more of it. (I had to sneak in a Taylor swift reference)

I'm absolutely obssessed with this idea!! I leaned into the taylor swift reference you slipped in, hence the title lol. writing this was so much fun, I really hope you like it! <3

I feel a lavender haze creepin' up on me (Dhawan! Master x reader)

Warnings: drugging/altering ones brain chemistry via a lavender plant, I think that's about it

The Master was infatuated with you, even though he knew he shouldn't be. For starters, you were a companion to the Doctor, his best enemy; not to mention the fact that you despised him.

He tried to forget about you, but he just couldn't. Something about you seemed to draw him in and left him wanting more. And since you would never just up and leave the Doctor for him, he'd have to resort to other measures to get your attention.

Kidnapping you was an obvious first choice, but he didn't need you hating him more than you already did. While he'd love to just use his hypnosis on you and be done with it, the Doctor had gone to great lengths in order to protect your mind from his persuasions, so he'd have to take a more hands on approach.

He frantically flipped through one of the several books he owned on intergalactic flora, hoping he could find something to help. It was then he stumbled upon something that was akin to a lavender flower, except it could reverse the chemistry of one's brain and make them feel the opposite of what they'd initially felt for whoever gave them the plant.

A devious grin spread across his face as the wheels started to turn in his mind. This was exactly what he needed.

You, meanwhile, were strolling casually throughout a garden full of the exact same plant. The Doctor had to land the TARDIS for repairs, so she'd encouraged you to explore the nearby area while she got them done.

A shiver went down your spine as you suddenly got the feeling that you were being watched. Frowning, you turned and looked behind you but saw no one there. You figured it was just the wind or perhaps a local critter. Until you turned back around to find yourself face to face with none other than the Master himself.

"Oh, great. It's you," you grumbled while rolling your eyes. The Master tried not to appear upset, although he was clearly disappointed you had that kind of lackluster reaction to seeing him.

"Yes, it's me, indeed." He flashed you a bright, charming smile, which did nothing to get rid of the unimpressed look on your face.

"What do you want?" You asked bluntly in an irritated tone, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him.

His ego deflated some, but he pushed down his feelings as he presented a lavender bouquet to you. "These are for you, my dear. Here, take them."

You glanced down at the bunch of plants, narrowing your eyes at them suspiciously. "Why? What're giving me these for?"

This was proving to be a tad bit more difficult than he thought. The Master was used to people falling for his charms instantly, but they just didn't seem to work on you.

"I'm giving them to you because a beautiful person deserves beautiful things," he said flirtatiously, doing his best to hide his desperation. He couldn't force you to take them from him: the plant's magical and scientific properties would only activate if you willingly accepted the offer.

You thought he looked a tad bit pathetic, in all honesty. It kind of made you feel bad for him. "If I take these, will you finally leave me alone?" You asked in an exasperated manner.

Eagering nodding his head, The Master grinned. "Of course, darling. Anything for you." It was hard to miss the way you rolled your eyes at him for a second time, but he wouldn't have to worry about your disinterest for much longer.

"Fine." You snatched the bouquet from him, and almost immediately after the power of the plant started to take affect. Your eyes became glazed over as you watched him, feelings blooming in your chest that you'd never felt before.

His eyes were such a gorgeous shade of brown, and with the way his lips looked, all you wanted to do was kiss him. "Wh- Whoa," you muttered to yourself as you deeply inhaled the intoxicating scent of the bouquet in front of you.

Forget seeing through rose colored glasses, right about now you were seeing through lavender lenses. A hazy feeling started to creep up over you as your vision dimmed.

"Are you alright, my dear?" He asked with slight concern, not anticipating the effects of the plant to act so quickly or be so strong.

"You're really amazing, did you know that?" Your voice was a tad bit slurred, almost as though you were tipsy from alcohol. In you opinion, being drunk on the love you felt for him was much better.

The Master beamed with pride as he reached out and took your hand in his, pulling you in close. "Of course I do. You're just as wonderful, might I add."

You let out a giddy laugh in response, your eyes having a purple tint to them on top of their now cloudy look. "We should do something together, just the two of us."

His entire face lit up with joy as he finally had to opportunity to spend time with you in a way that didn't involve you hurling insults at him nonstop. "My dear, I'd love nothing more."

He led you back to his TARDIS, filled with excitement over the idea of you finally wanting him just as much as he did you. It would be quite the surprise for the Doctor when she returned to find her companion had parted ways with her, too awestruck by the feeling of a lavender haze all around them to care.

end notes: I probably shouldn't enjoy writing fics involving the reader being drugged as much as I do lmao

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[deja-yu]

Autumn nights 3/? Blinding lights - Choi San

Genre: fluff

1.6K

Request: Ateez idol!San x idol!reader where they like each other but don’t know how to confess and are kinda scared bc of their career, but everything works out in the end?

Notes: reader's profession isn't mentioned, and it's lovers at first sight trope, and! I didn't spend too long on the repercussions of rumours/ a dating 'scandal'.

You could never really get used to the bright lights during the press moments. Repressing the unhinged fear in your mind that you were in fact not in the pretty outfit your stylist helped you into earlier and instead a towel. When a smile makes it onto your face at the thought the lights seem to increase to a strobe like level. It wasn’t often you got to attend events with such a wide variety of people, there were fashion editors, singers, actors, whoever managed to impress the hosts enough to be invited. On your way from the red-carpet photo-opt for the press to the entrance of the event, you smile at your fans. When scanning the crowd your eyes land on a picket of Hongjoong, was he also attending? Your heart skips a beat, alone or with the others? With San? Ever since you got invited alongside San to a gameshow you were crushing on him like crazy.

Your mind goes back to how you got paired together as the guest team, playing games together to try and beat the other teams. After shooting the introduction and first couple games you had a break, not being sure how to socialize with everyone you sat alone in your changing room. San had knocked on the open door and came to your side with a sweet smile when you invited him inside, “You want to go have lunch with me?”. Your heart fluttered as you took the hand that he was holding out for him. You had so much fun with him over lunch, being able to connect with him when you didn’t have to worry about your words or actions. The last games had been even more fun, being able to interact with San a lot more comfortable after getting to know him a little. During the games the hosts kept teasing the two of you looked like a couple with how San kept taking care of you. When going through a haunted maze section, he was visibly scared but never let go of your hand or made you go first. After the show both your fans teased that it seemed like love at first sight, but of course there were also negative comments. You had to post to your socials how fun filming was and thanking San for looking out for you throughout the games but add don’t worry guys he is still all yours. You later saw a snippet from a live he did, “oh the show was really fun, me and y/n got along really well! I wish we could meet again without people getting upset” you chuckled at the deadpanned look he sent towards the camera.

Inside the venue was large and you felt your heart sink, you usually had your stylist or assistant with you. But you couldn’t find them between the horde of other staff waiting. After texting back and forth you would just find them later. Taking a breath, you raise your head and square your shoulders, making your way through the event and giving everyone you locked eyes with a friendly smile and wave. There was a party in one hall, and a calmer socializing hall, but you quickly found yourself in the art exhibition. It was a lot calmer and the people you ran into were either there for the same reasons (to recharge a little) or have a scandal worthy make-out session in the adjacent empty rooms. Not that you saw anything, TMZ doesn’t pay you enough to live with the guilt of ruining someone’s life.

“Y/N?” you take your eyes of the art piece in front of you to turn around. Meeting the eyes of a beautifully dressed San. His hair was slicked up and away from his face but one strand was either stubborn or perfectly styled to stick out just right. Butterflies burst in your stomach and you smile while muttering a Hi. He grins at you and strides across the room to meet you. “Thought I saw you! Look at you” he takes a step back and gives you a look over, you jokingly do a little twirl and he lets out ohh and wahh’s to fuel your ego. You grin at him shoving him lightly to shut him up. “How are you?” you question, “I loved your album by the way!” his eyebrows raise but you miss the way his ears turn pink. He stammers for a second before clearing his throat “Did you see the music video?” laughing you say of course! “What did you think of my part?” puppy eyes on you as you fake ponder for a moment. “I’d say it was pretty hot. But I prefer you not all beat up” taking your turn to give him a good look over, “This is more my style” your heart was beating at a ridiculous pace but the few drinks you downed on your way here gave you that little extra confidence. “Yeah?” raising an eyebrow while he smirks.

You both turn to look at the entrance of the room, a group of people slowly coming into the previous empty room. Your heart drops a little and you automatically take a step away from San. When you look up at him, his eyes are already on you but you can’t read his expression. You gasp when he leans in close, whispering in your ear “Tipton hotel, room 325. Let’s have dinner together this time”. He pulls away with a smile “I’ll go find my members now, have a lovely evening Y/N”, giving you a small nod before walking out of the room. As if he didn’t leave goosebumps all over your neck and leave you stunned in silence.  Composing yourself you eventually leave and find your way to the party, socializing some more but you don’t see San anywhere or any of the other ATEEZ members.

You check yourself in the elevator mirror once more, you had changed since you left the party opting for something a little bit more comfortable. You didn’t have the chance to tell San you were staying in the same hotel. Which made it a lot easier because you wondered how he thought you would get into his hotel without the security assuming you were just another crazy fan. You had ordered some fast food and you hoped it was enough, making sure to order for his members too. Not one to make bad first impressions. The hallway was similar to your floor and you felt your hands get sweaty as you made your way to room 325. Standing before the door in silent contemplation before finally knocking on the door. Which proved more difficult with your hands full so you just kicked your foot against the frame. Cringing at the loud thuds. The door opened wordlessly and you were greeting with San already walking back into the room, his words ring clear though “I swear Wooyoung , they might still show up!”, his figure disappears as he turns into the bedroom. And you stand frozen to your spot, glancing down either side of the hallway before taking a step inside. “Why are you not saying anything? Have you run out of jokes?” you jump slightly when San reappears in the small hallway. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water “Y/N?”.

“I brought dinner” you hold up the bags, trying to sound casual but the shakiness in your voice is hard to hide. “Oh yes, come in!” It always surprises you how fast he is, taking the bags from your hands and kicking the door shut. Your shaky hands take off your coat and shoes before you follow him into the room. “You got a lot” a small snort comes from him “Oh, yes, because of your members I wanted to make sure it was enough” he hums before turning to you with a sly look “But you came for me right?” rolling your eyes you suck your teeth, “Actually I haven’t told you but Hongjoong is my bias”. He laughs as your words, “You can’t lie to me” sending him a challenging look you decide to tease him so more, “After spending 20 hours in total with me, you can tell when I lie?”. You take a step back when he comes closer, you bump into the bed but manage to catch yourself from falling. Trying to keep your though act up but it was crumbling fast under his eyes.

“I can’t tell. But…” He hesitates for a moment before his hand cups your face. “I am taking my chances” his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes. “We’ll get in trouble” you whisper and he nods “Yes, but I don’t think I can stay out of trouble when it comes to you. But if you want… I’ll stop” his breath mingles with yours in the small space between you. You want to run away but something about San roots you to your spot. Because ever since you first met, it was like a rope was tied between you, constantly tugging you to him. So you blame that same rope when you find yourself slowly leaning in, lips meeting shortly before you both pull away. And then, with newfound hunger your hands are tugging him closer, his hands finding your waist. Even as you stumble and fall on the bed, his touch never leaves you. Lips finding your neck, your breath heavy as he grunts softly. When he moves back to your face you tangle your hands in his hair, tugging to stop him before kissing you again. “Are you sure?” he nods with a laugh “It can be our secret for now” smiling at his words you nod, releasing your grip so his lips can meet yours again.

[the-broken-truth]

A Father's Son [Part One] - Miguel O'Hara w/ Teenage Spider Son Reader

Summary: Hi, I'm [Name] O'Hara. As the son of Miguel O'Hara, the leader of the Spider-Society and Spider-Man 2099, I strive to be one of the best Spider-Men under the guidance of my mentors Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker. However, it's disheartening that my father doesn't acknowledge my efforts and instead holds onto memories of my late sister Gabriella, with whom he destroyed the past. While I am my father's son, I yearn to be recognized for who I am.

[Earth-928 / Spider-Society / Main Hub / Your POV]

It is said: "Children should not be burdened with the successes of their parents, no more than their failings.", whoever made that statement should have passed it on to my Father - Miguel O'Hara. This man was stubborn and obsessed with success when it came to her preservation of the Multiverse but he could never stop and take a look at what was before him and appreciate what he had; always wanting more than what he could care for... least with his work, because it seemed like he never wanted me and cares not for my achievements in the Spider-Society.

My name is [Name] - [Name] O'Hara - and I am the only son of Miguel O'Hara, in fact, I am his canon son; the child he was meant to have instead of the daughter he tried to raise from another universe. I was 12 years old when he left me to replace the dead version of himself and he returned a broken man after he caused a canon event & an entire universe to collapse because of his greed and selfishness. I tried to be there for him, to make him see that while I wasn't Gabriella I was still useful, I was still his son and I wanted him to love me but he just looked t me and shook his head before he left out of the room, leaving me to cry alone with Lyla comforting me until Jessica and Peter came to get me and take me home per my father's request.

Now, I am 15 years old - one of the best spider-men in the field, and today, I was on a solo mission to take down a Varitant of Doctor Octopus & return him to his proper earth. I managed to find him on Earth-876 and defeated him before wrapping him up in a web and doing a scan of him - he belonged to Earth-656. I opened a portal to his proper earth and sent him there before opening another portal to my home and jumped in before reappearing on the other side in the Main Hub of the Spider-Society. I was greeted by Peter and Jessica before I heard a rather grumpy voice speak from the upper level.

"[Name], we need to talk. Now." My Father said as he had his back turned to me with his hands on his hips and his head shaking once again; he was upset at something but it couldn't have been me, I took care of the variant alone without a single scratch. I looked at Jessica and Peter before webbing my way up to my father's platform and looked at my father's back.

"Yes, Father?" I asked him with my hands in the pockets of my spider suit but when he turned around, he looked rather pissed off.

"What the hell were you thinking, boy?" He asked me with his deep tone but I just looked at him with confusion in my eyes.

"What are you talking about? I took care of the anomaly and returned it to its proper earth all on my own." I said with pride in my voice but his glare was too much for me to bear. I miss his brown eyes but the red was a side effect of the Spider Injections.

"You weren't supposed to go alone, I was supposed to go and deal with the Anomaly." He said.

"What does it matter who deals with the anomaly? It's dealt with and there was no other reason for you to be in that world, right?" I asked.

"I found an Orphaned Version of Gabriella on that Earth and i was going to bring her here to raise." Those words made my heart freeze, again with this?!

"ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS?! YOU WANTED ANOTHER VERSION OF GABRIELLA AFTER YOU CAUSED A CANON EVENT AND DESTROYED AN ENTIRE UNIVERSE?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, FATHER?!" I roared at him.

"This version doesn't have a parent, taking her from her universe and bringing her here wouldn't have caused a Canon Event." He said but the anger in me was too much.

"Why can't you just be happy with what you have?! You have me, I'm your son! Your Real Son! A son you made with your wife, who you divorced becuase she wasn't able to have more children!" I pointed at him, eyes flowing with tears.

"I need Gabriella. You aren't her. I don't want nor do I need you." He said. I just stood there and soaked in what he just said.

He didn't need me?

He didn't want me?

Fine.

Then, he was about to lose me forever.

I turned away and jumped off his platform before walking out of the Main Hub with Jessica and Peter at my sides, I didn't want to speak to them, I needed to see someone who understood me. I needed to see my mother.

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four Ao3

A/N: Guys, I’m so sorry for the late update! Life has been crazy for me the past couple weeks but I hope that I can get back to writing more regularly. This chapter is the well-awaited Eddie pov, as well as a ton of backstory for him that I didn’t really plan on but it just kinda came out. This chapter is kinda rushed, I’m gonna be honest, but I wanted to get it out to you guys as soon as possible since its been awhile. There are gonna be some major warnings here so I’ll post them below. Take care of yourselves and stay safe, now enjoy!

Tw: homophobia, homophobic language, child abuse, domestic violence, referenced drug use, Eddie being incredibly gay

———

It’s a muggy Sunday morning, the summer sun burning through the last vestiges of chilled night air and frosted dewdrops as it rises from its slumber. Like the sun, Eddie rises as well. However, it’s with much less fanfare and grace due to the obnoxious pounding at his front door.

He groans dramatically, shoving his face in his pillow and willing whoever the fuck decided to bother him at—he glances at his alarm clock on the other side of the room, squinting to read the numbers—nine in the morning to go away. His wish must have pissed off some universal god because the knocking only gets louder, making the window above his desk rattle with every shake of the door.

With a sigh big enough to rival the windy intro of “Holy Diver”, he pulls himself to the door in a zombie-like state. Movements sluggish from his interrupted sleep, he misses the doorknob twice before finally turning it, throwing it open with newfound strength to find one Robin Buckley in all her glory. Her fist is raised and ready to knock again, her face the epitome of righteous fury as she glares at him.

“Uh, hey Buck. Whatcha doi—“ he begins, only to be interrupted by Robin shoving past him and barging into the trailer. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and pulling on his hair slightly before shutting the door.

Kids and their manners nowadays.

“Yeah, sure, come on in. Totally fine. I wasn’t sleeping or anything, noooo,” he says to himself before turning to face his intruder. Whatever Buckley is upset about seems serious, and from the icy look she’s giving him it also seems like it’s his fault. Her hands are on her hips like she’s in a Steve Harrington impersonation contest and plans on taking home a first place prize. Something in him squirms at the thought.

But, he is nothing if not a performer. So, of course, he puts on a show.

“Lady Buckley,” he declares in a posh British accent, bowing deeply with a flourish on his arm. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine morning?”

He’s expecting a fond eye roll, or a laugh, or huff, or something. He gets silence.

“Cut the bullshit, Eddie. We need to talk about Steve,” she demands.

Steve… Now isn’t that an interesting subject?

Now, Eddie has always been different. He was loud, and jumpy, and fidgety, and the other kids never wanted to be friends with him because they were scared. He was always covered in dirt, always barefoot because he either forgot to put on shoes or the ones he had were too small for his ever-changing feet. He would talk to himself, mutter little reminders under his breath or work through the questions plaguing his mind aloud because he just functioned better that way.

Then, at eleven, he found out just how different he really was. He was outside during recess when he fell off the monkey bars and scraped his hands and knees. He huddled on the ground, tears falling down his small cheeks because it hurt and his wounds felt like they were throbbing. Then a boy, James, ran up to him and asked him if he was okay. James had stark blond hair, a face full of freckles, and bright green eyes. He looked so concerned for Eddie, and was gentle when he picked up one of his hands to inspect the cuts littered there. It was that gentle touch that elicited a flutter of butterflies in his stomach, and ever since then Eddie knew.

When he had gotten home to the trailer that day, he felt confused. Other people in his class were constantly talking about who they “liked”; boys liking girls and girls liking boys. About how they would get all nervous around their crushes, and Eddie realized he had never felt that before. All of the girls in his class were just… girls to him. They never gave him that fluttery feeling James had. But… no one ever talked about boys liking boys. No one ever said if it was okay, so Eddie thought it must not be. That boys liking boys wasn’t okay. That he wasn’t okay.

It took awhile, but he finally confessed to Wayne that he liked boys, that he got all the little butterflies that boys were supposed to get about girls. Wayne shook his head and told him that he could feel butterflies for anyone he pleased, as long as they made him happy. They both cried that night, and ended up in a hug so tight they nearly fused together.

Since then, Eddie’s come to accept the fact that he’s gay. Has added it to his whole anti-conformist persona, even. So when high school hit he let himself finally be free. He joined Hellfire club, made friends with the upperclassmen who ran it, and learned all the intricacies of D&D that he never imagined he would. After two years, he met Gareth and Jeff who joined Hellfire much in the way he did. Then, Grant joined halfway through Eddie’s junior year and he quickly recruited him as well. He found his friends, his people, and he finally let himself be himself around them.

He told them he was gay after a long session of lazily practicing in Gareth’s garage and smoking, the weed having loosened both his limbs and his lips. They were all extremely chill with it, even after the weed had worn off. That, however, didn’t exempt them from making fun of him though.

Eddie was loitering in the hallway after school, waiting on Gareth to finish up a quiz he missed the week prior, when none other than Steve Harrington walked out of the pool room in nothing but those little speedos that leave zero to the imagination. Seriously, all those girls were right, holy shit. After he picked his jaw up off the floor, he noticed Steve was looking at him with that adorable little confused puppy look before a god damned smirk fell across his face. Eddie’s face, he knew, had to rival that of a Victorian nobleman fawning over a sliver of pale skin shown by a lady across the room with her face hidden by an elaborate fan because he was literally drooling for the man in front of him.

It got considerably worse when Steve leaned down to drink from a nearby water fountain, making Eddie’s mouth go completely dry with this blatant offering of ass right in his face. In hindsight, it might not have been an offering, per say, but it was definitely there and Eddie was definitely staring. So it really wasn’t a surprise that he jumped when Gareth tapped his shoulder, Eddie having not heard him come up behind him, and he turned on his heel so fast he’s surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Dude, you good?” Gareth asked. Eddie opened his mouth, squeaked out, “I’m fine” and immediately felt his face go up in flames. Gareth glanced over Eddie’s shoulder and he could see in slow motion the series of thoughts that crossed his mind. Gareth went from concerned to confused to understanding to smug so fast it was almost comical. When their eyes met, Eddie’s went wide.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” he hissed, and the smug look only intensified.

Once they got to his van, Gareth immediately rounded on him.

“Seriously? Steve Harrington?” Gareth teased. “Of all people, it had to be that douche?”

Eddie groaned and clenched his eyes shut. “I know, Garebear, now shut up before I push you out of the van.”

Of course, news about his little crush spread around his friend group like wildfire, and soon enough he was being teased by them relentlessly. Eddie knew his crush wouldn’t get very far, Steve was very clearly straight and in a happy relationship with Nancy Wheeler of all people. Still, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about that smirk.

Just as his crush began to fade away, Steve showed up to school with a busted face and eye bags deep enough to rival shitty vampire Halloween make-up from a toddlers costume contest. Feelings came rushing back, the intense need to protect, to find out what happened and get justice for that pretty face.

Then it kept happening, and Steve showed up to school with a beat up face yet again. However, judging by his stumbling and droopy eyes, it came with a concussion this time. Just when Eddie was trying to figure out who did it, Billy Hargrove came stalking through the empty halls and all attention was focused on his scabbed knuckles. On the hungry glare he sent Steve’s way. On the way Steve shrank back a little on instinct.

And Eddie… Eddie just couldn’t leave well enough alone, now could he?

He walked up to Steve, brows furrowed. “Harrington?”

Harrington didn’t turn, eyes still focused on the spot where Billy had been before. Eddie tapped his shoulder. “Steve?”

He jumped that time, like Eddie had actually hit him, and spun to face him. Up close, his face looked a hell of a lot worse and Eddie had to suppress a wince just looking at him. Steve looked at him confused, though it was hard to tell between the swelling and assortment of bandages on his face.

“…Munson?” Steve began. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up.”

He said it flippantly, with a wave of his hand towards his left ear like that explained everything. It didn’t, but Eddie felt like it wasn’t his place to push.

“You good, man? You look like you got in a fight with a dump truck and lost,” Eddie said. “Badly.”

He expected Steve to scoff and roll his eyes, push past him and hit his shoulder too hard to be an accident. He expected him to spit some barb and walk away, to leave Eddie there in the hallway alone. None of that happened, though.

Instead, Steve smiled. A little self-deprecating, but a smile nonetheless. He huffed a laugh.

“Make it a supercharged dump truck and you’ve got it right,” Steve joked at his own expense. It resulted in a shocked laugh bursting from Eddie’s lips, which he immediately stopped by smacking a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away. “That’s not funny. I mean… your joke was, just not,”—he gestured to Steve’s… everything—“this.”

“It’s okay man, I know what you meant,” Steve said sincerely and Eddie doubted why he was ever called King Steve. The person who stood in front of him was the furthest thing from what those jocks supposedly worshiped that Eddie had to hide another bubble of laughter.

“Seriously, dude, did you even go to a doctor?” Eddie asked, and at Steve’s wince he knew the answer. He rolled his eyes and slung an arm around his shoulders, careful not to land too hard in case he was bruised there too, and led him down the hallway towards the nurse’s station.

“Uh,” Steve began. “Where are we going?”

“The nurse,” he explained. “Figured a look wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed a little under his arm, and Eddie decided to focus on him during their walk down the empty hallway. He noticed the way his hair bounced a little with every step, how a couple strands were threatening to fall from their perfectly coiffed positions. He noticed his moles and freckles, how he had a smattering of faint ones all over his face from time in the sun. He noticed how his nose was a little crooked now, with a bump on the bridge that wasn’t there before the weekend. He noticed how pretty his eyes were, with at least three different shades of brown all swirled together like melted chocolate with flecks of forest green nestled in the folds.

He noticed that Steve was looking at him.

They had come to a stop in front of the nurse, yet Eddie’s arm was still over his shoulders. He quickly retracted it, but Steve didn’t move away and neither did he.

“Well, this is your stop,” Eddie nearly whispered out. Steve smiled, just a small quirk of his lips, and his eyes flitted across Eddie’s face.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he started. Steve took a step backwards toward the station and did a little wave with his fingers that had no right being as endearing as it was. “See you around.”

With that, he disappeared behind the thick mahogany door and Eddie was left there alone, face full of flames and smiling like he was in fucking love with the guy.

Fuck, maybe he was a little bit in love with the guy.

That feeling didn’t waver, not even after seeing him in a skimpy sailor uniform as he scooped overpriced ice cream for toddlers in the Mall. Or, when he was pinning him to the rickety wall of the boathouse he was hiding in after seeing Chrissy murdered in front of him by some freaky wizard from an alternate dimension with a broken bottle to his beautifully freckled throat.

That feeling greatly intensified when he saw Steve take an honest to god bite out of a demonic bat and spit the flesh and blood out on the dried lakebed in the previously mentioned alternate dimension.

And, really, you can’t blame him for falling all the way when he found out exactly who dragged his half-dead body out of hell and saved his life.

So yeah, Steve was a very interesting subject indeed.

“Is… Is he okay?” Eddie questions as he straightens from his hunched position, head tilting to the side and making his bangs fall in his eyes. Robin throws her hands up with a mighty huff and a frustrated groan.

“Obviously not!” She exclaims. She starts pacing around his living room, back and forth in front of the coffee table. “He’s obviously not okay because you’ve been avoiding him and making him feel like shit for months and I’m actually really worried about him ‘cause he’s been doing stupid shit that can get him killed and I don’t know how much longer he can go on like this before it completely ruins him.”

As Robin rambles, her face turns a bright shade of pink. She finishes her speech, sucking in a deep breath as if she ran out of air. Eddie’s brows furrow.

“I haven’t been avoiding Steve,” he defends weakly. He hasn’t, not really. He just… he doesn’t want to get hurt.

Okay yes, Eddie is practically in love with the guy, but that doesn’t mean Steve feels the same about him. They’re friends, that’s it. Steve is going to find some beautiful girl and get married and have the houseful of kids he’s always wanted and Eddie will be here, still pining from afar. He knows it would be easier to just forget about him, and forget about the feelings clutching his heart like a starved hawk with its first fulfilling catch in months. That’s why he’s been slowly letting go over the past few weeks, trying—and failing—to get that stupid pretty boy out of his head. Of course, it’s not working, and every day he spends not talking to Steve feels like hell.

So no, he’s not avoiding Steve. He just doesn’t think he could survive it if he confesses and Steve rejects him completely. Staying away means he won’t accidentally reveal his feelings for the man, and judging by how much he’s feeling, it wouldn’t be very hard for that scraggly cat to come clawing and screeching out of the proverbial bag.

Robin, however, thinks the opposite because according to the look she’s giving him, she says he absolutely fucking has.

Eddie sighs. “Okay, maybe I have just a little bit but it’s not—“

Eddie freezes, stomach plummeting as Robin's rambling words take purchase in his mind. She said Steve was doing something stupid, something that could kill him. Flashes of a night now a distant memory play in his mind, one filled with panicked breaths, stilted tears, and a bloody bat with nails.

“Robin… What do you mean by ‘stupid shit’?” Eddie asks tentatively. Part of him wants to know the answer, while part of him fears the idea of ever finding out. Robin only gives him a confused look and crosses her arms.

“Eddie, that’s totally not the point of this conversation and you know it—“ Eddie cuts her off by waving his hands.

“Robin! Just…” he trails off. Should he tell her about Steve? He promised he wouldn’t but…

“Okay, I have to tell you something about Steve but please please don’t tell him I told you because I promised him I wouldn’t but if you also know something about him then I think you should know about this too,” he rushes out, words tumbling fast out of his mouth as his lungs scream for air. Robin’s icy glare has melted a bit, turning into one of anxiety and caution.

He sighs and flops down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks down at his hands. He feels more than sees Robin sit next to him and he knows he has her attention.

“What happened, Eddie?” She prompts, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I had a visit from Steve awhile back, around four or five days ago,” he begins. “It was early in the morning and I couldn’t sleep so I was writing notes for a new campaign idea in the living room. I could feel that something was… off, so I looked out the window and there he was.”

He ran a hand over his face, pushing his bangs back and pulling on the ends. He glances over at Robin to find her looking at him. He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment before looking back at her.

“He wasn’t all there, Robin. Like… like he was trapped in his mind or something. I thought,” he huffs a deprecating laugh, “for a moment there, I thought he was cursed.”

He doesn’t mention that the image found its way in his head and can’t seem to find its way out, like a stubborn housefly who keeps banging against the glass hoping to be freed. The thought of Steve floating—eyes rolled back in his head while his lids flutter and his limbs shudder and break one by one—has kept him awake on more nights than he can count. The thought of him being subjected to his worst nightmares given life, all the lies that he tells himself turned to truth. The thought of Eddie being completely helpless, watching him die in agony in front of him.

He doesn’t mention that every night since then, he’s called Steve. He needed to hear his voice, to know he was okay. To know he was alive. He never got a call back.

“I got him to come inside but he didn’t stay long. Something spooked him, I think, I just… I don’t know, it was really weird. Like…” he trails off, unable to find the words.

“Like he was in fight or flight mode?” Robin suggests, and he nods.

“Pure instinct.”

Robin groans. “Shit, this is worse than I thought.”

“Wait, did he tell you?” He asks. Steve was so insistent on Eddie not telling her—made him promise, in fact—so why…?

“Well… after a very long, very emotional, and very vulnerable conversation, yes. He told me on his own terms though, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she supplies. “He… He didn’t tell me a ton of details, though. Not… Not like that.”

There’s a pause as Robin clenches her eyes closed and looks away from him.

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” her voice comes out just barely above a whisper, something he wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t right next to her. Eddie stays silent, unwilling to break the solemn mood. Robin, however, misses that message entirely as she smacks his arm.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, doofus?!” She accuses, giving him a half-hearted glare that is no less threatening. Eddie holds his hands up in surrender, unable to hide the exasperated look on his face.

“He made me promise!!” Eddie defends. “Plus he gave me those damn puppy dog eyes and I couldn’t say no.”

“He is really good at that, especially when he wants something. He says he has no clue but I bet you he does,” Robin whispers, almost conspiratory as if they’re sharing a terrible secret. Eddie can’t help but smile and shake his head. Screw Harrington and his stupid pretty eyes.

“Did he say anything else while he was here?” Robin asks after a moment of silence.

“No, that was the only thing he said really, other than an absent ‘I’m fine’ before he bolted out the door. It was a very uh… one-sided conversation,” Eddie explains. “He mostly gave only one or two word answers before he panicked and ran.”

“I’m gonna assume he didn’t tell you why he left?” She asks, and at the shake of his head she curses. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”

Robin shifts beside him, raising her hand to mindlessly chew on her thumbnail. He thinks the conversation is over. Or, rather, wishes it were over.

That universal god must really hate Eddie today because Robin roughly shakes her head and waves her hands around, letting out a huff.

“Okay, one problem at a time. That was totally not the point of this little talk and you know it, Munson,” she admonishes. “Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Steve?”

She punctuates each word with a, quite literal, punch to the arm. Eddie reels back, dramatically clutching his bruised arm and gives her a fake glare.

“Ow!!” He rubs his arm. For her incredibly bony arms, she really can pack a punch. He’s only half joking that it hurts.

“Answer the question!”

“Fine fine…” he takes a deep breath, knee bouncing with building anxiety before he stands up, unable to quell the urge to move. He paces twice in front of the coffee table before he has the nerve to look at her waiting gaze.

“So, as you know, I am a raging homosexual,” he states, and at his pause, she nods. “And I miiiiiight have a teeny weeny, itsy bitsy, enormous crush on him.”

The end of his sentence is rushed out, words jumbled together as he screws his eyes closed and waits for… whatever Robin’s response is going to be. He waits for five seconds. Then ten. Then twenty-five because yes he’s counting. If he knows one thing about Robin Buckley it’s that she doesn’t know when to stop talking so silence is a very rare occurrence for her and now its been a whole minute and something must be wrong so he opens his eyes to find her—

The only word that even remotely comes close to encompassing the expression on her face is seething.

He instinctively takes a step back.

“Edward Lee Munson you better explain yourself right fucking now or I swear to every god out there that I will rip out your spleen and feed it to the neighborhood dogs before you take a step out that door,” Robin all but growls out, eyes icy and cold as they stare through him. He’s quick to explain because he really quite values his spleen, thank you very much.

“Okay, okay, geez I get it! Fine,” he huffs. “I’ve been avoiding Steve because it’s hard to be around him.”

Robin only raises an eyebrow. Eddie groans. He really wishes he didn’t have to explain his big, fat, gay love this early in the morning.

“It’s hard because he’s so…. So Steve all the time. He’s so kind and caring and hot— god, Birdie, he’s so fucking hot—“

“Okay, yeah, I didn’t need to know that,” Robin interrupts.

“Sorry,” he says, a bit sheepish. “Every little smile he gives me feels like a swarm of butterflies are fighting horde-style to get out of my stomach. I just…

“I think I’m in love with him,” Eddie confesses. The way her eyes blow wide is comical, and he’s half expecting them to pop and burst like they do in cartoons.

“But I know better,” he gives her a sad smile. “I know that I’m not special, he doesn’t mean it like that. Like I want it to. And…. And I know he never will.

“I thought that distancing myself would make the feelings go away, make it… I don’t know, hurt less? But not seeing Steve at all… fuck, it hurts worse than dying and I know what that feels like. Now I don’t even have him as a friend,” he scoffs at himself, shakes his head a little and focuses on a framed picture of him, Steve, Robin, and Dustin from graduation on the wall. Focuses on how Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders, hand gripping his upper arm as he smiles shyly at the camera. How Eddie himself is leaning into his side, tucked under his arm as if he belongs there. As if he’ll ever belong there. He looks back at Robin.

“But this is what’s best. I can’t have my stupid heart feeling things my brain knows it shouldn’t,” Eddie ends his little speech by flopping back down on the couch. Part of him regrets telling her, but another small, itty bitty part is almost grateful.

Eddie’s always had a way of caring too much, even from a young age. Wayne could tell you better than anyone that Eddie has always had a soft side. He could tell you that Eddie refused to let him kill any of the bugs that got into the trailer when the weather turned cold and insisted that they be put outside under the trailer where it was at least a little warmer. He could tell you that every time Eddie would see another person cry, he would too.

He’s just always been like that, so carrying this around with him everyday? It was becoming too much to bear, having to put on a face around everyone so no one could tell. So no one could see how it was breaking him inside. Wearing him down to the bone. Slowly, slowly killing him.

Robin sighs beside him and he had almost forgotten she was there. Her voice is quiet and strangely gentle as she speaks.

“Why do you think that, Eddie?”

What?

“What?” He asks incredulously and knows his face is in a similar state to his voice.

“Why do you think Steve wouldn’t like you like that? Has he said anything to make you think he wouldn’t?” She clarifies, which really doesn’t clarify anything at all for him because what?

“Um… are we talking about the same Steve? You know, Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ resident ladies man? Why the fuck would you think I’d have a shot?” He explains. “He’s so painfully straight and I am so painfully not, Robin.”

Robin just looks at him like she’s trying to read his mind. Or, rather, push a thought into his mind. Waiting for something to click. It doesn’t. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Besides, Steve never tried to talk to me about the whole distance thing, so I just—“

“You know what happens when people assume things, Eddie,” Robin interrupts.

“—figured that he didn’t mind,” Eddie finishes with a glare. Robin closes her eyes and takes a breath as if calming herself. She pinches her nose, right between her eyes like Steve always does when he’s frustrated or tired, and turns to him. She takes his hands in hers, and her face is only a mere mask of calm, the tumbling waves of anger rolling just under the surface.

“Eddie,” she begins. “Have you ever thought of the possibility that Steve doesn’t talk about his feelings? That he would keep it all bottled up inside like he does with literally everything else?”

Well, when she puts it like that…

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “I only found out about this whole… thing two days ago and that was only because I just so happened to catch him falling asleep at work. He wouldn’t have told me if I didn’t ask him, I know that for sure. He… Eddie, he honestly believes that this is all his fault. That he’s the one that fucked everything up between you and he kids.”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. “Wait, what do the kids have to do with this?”

“You haven’t told them anything?” Robin asks, eyes going a little wide.

“Have I told a bunch of teenagers—whose opinions I regretfully respect—that I have a crush on their babysitter? No, I have not.”

“Okay, yeah that was a stupid question, sorry,” she amends. “Just… the kids are avoiding Steve and I can’t think of a reason why.”

“They’re what!? Wait, why haven’t I heard of this until now?” Eddie exclaims. Robin gives him a look that makes him deflate a little. “Let me guess, you only found out two days ago?”

“Bingo, we have a winner!” Robin fake cheers, raising her arms in a mock-celebratory fashion. She drops them with a huff. “They haven’t talked to him in weeks, Eddie, and I think it’s because you have been avoiding him.”

Her tone isn’t accusatory, but it still makes him feel like shit.

“They must have picked up the sense that something was going on between you two and assumed they should be avoiding him too,” she suggests. Eddie leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t get how they could think that, though. I mean, Steve has been nothing but good to them for years now.”

“I know,” Robin agrees. “But they’re kids. Stupid, dumb, ungrateful kids, but they’re still kids.”

Eddie drops his head in his hands, pressing hard on his eyes until spots form behind his eyelids.

“I really fucked this up, didn’t I?” He asks it rhetorically, but Robin gives a noise of agreement anyway. “How do I fix this, Birdie?”

“You could start by talking to him,” Robin suggests.

Now isn’t that a terrifying thought?

Because knowing you have feelings for someone is one thing, but telling them? That’s something so far out of the realm of possibility for him that he’s never even thought about considering it.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, Buckley?” Eddie exclaims, looking over at her with wide eyes. “I’d like to keep all my teeth if you don’t mind. I mean, I know I’m not your type and everything but some poor schmuck would probably like to look at this face one more time before it's beat all black and blue.”

Robin only rolls her eyes at his rambling—which is rather hypocritical of her if you ask him, since she seems to treat rambling as an Olympic sport she plans on winning every time she opens her mouth. She grabs his face between her hands and honest to god shakes him.

“I can’t tell you everything, but I’m telling you to trust me and talk to him,” she practically demands, giving him a pointed look much like the one from before. Except he still doesn’t know what it means, as that final piece has yet to click into place.

He nods in her hold, partially afraid of her now, and she releases him.

“We need to fix this. Now,” Eddie insists. He looks over at her. “We need to talk to the kids.”

Eddie stands up, running to his room and groaning at the mess he left. Tossing his sheets and blankets back on the bed, he reaches under his bed for the walkie he knows he last saw under there three days ago. Except, it’s not there. He stands up, scrunches his eyebrows, and thinks.

Let’s see… it was next to the keychain that was on top of the VHS sitting on the books on the corner of the desk, then he moved it when he had to answer one of Lucas’ questions which he did while he walked around the trailer and he laid it down when he finished to get some cheese from the fridge, meaning—

Eddie runs back to the kitchen, finding the walkie on top of the fridge, right where he thought it would be.

“Got ya!” He grabs it and runs back to the living room where Robin is waiting very impatiently.

“Where even was that?” She asks but he ignores her, electing to set the frequency so he can talk to the kids all at once instead of answering her. He presses the button.

“This is Eddie the Banished calling an emergency Hellfire meeting pronto,” he orders into the speaker. “I repeat, emergency Hellfire meeting.”

He waits for a response. One minute. Two minutes. Three—

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the button again. “Over.”

Immediately, Dustin responds. “Hear you loud and clear, Eddie. Is this a code red situation? Over.”

“Nope, not a code red. More of a uh…” he glances over at Robin who shrugs. “Code yellow? I think. Over.”

“What the hell is ‘code yellow’? We don’t even have one of those,” comes Erica’s, as always, sarcastic remark. Eddie can faintly hear Lucas yelling in the background.

“Munson, you better not be shitting with us.”

“I promise you, Red, I wouldn’t. Not about this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, people! You’re supposed to say ‘over’ when you’re done talking! Over.”

“Shove it, Dustybuns, the adults are talking.”

Eddie has to hold the walkie away from him at Dustin’s responding shriek. He presses a hand over his eyes. These kids are going to kill him one day.

“Guys, this is serious. Just get your asses over to my trailer as soon as possible. Robin’s already here, does someone have Little Byers and Supergirl?”

“I’ve got them. Over and out,” Mike responds.

“Erica and I are on our way. Over and out,” Lucas says.

“Be there in fifteen. Over and out,” Dustin declares. Eddie glances at Robin, sharing equally nervous and worried looks. This is not going to be fun.

Thirty minutes later, all of the kids are cramped in Eddie’s living room. Lucas, Max, El, and Mike are scrunched together on the couch, while Will and Dustin sit on the floor in front of them. Erica claimed Wayne’s recliner as soon as her and Lucas got there, refusing to move for the older teens.

Robin is standing next to him, hands on her hips again—really driving home the whole “Steve is my platonic soulmate” bit—as he stands there with his arms crossed. The two of them remind Eddie of disappointed parents about to tell off their kids, which, in reality, isn't too far off.

“Okay, what the hell?” Dustin asks, still breathless from the trek there. “I literally just got home an hour ago. Why did you call us and make us bike all the way here in the heat?”

“Because you deserve it for being shitheads,” Eddie defends and rolls his eyes. He’s met with a cacophony of dweeby teen voices as they retaliate.

“What did we do this time?”

“What?! We didn’t do anything!”

“What did Dustin do, now?”

“Me? Why am I the one being blamed? I wasn’t even here!”

“Because you’re too damn nosey, dude.”

“Ouch, Lucas. Ouch.”

“Hey!” Eddie yells, clapping his hands to get their attention. It startles them all enough to quit talking over each other and look back up at him. “Okay, I’m just going to get to the point. Why are you all avoiding Steve?”

Mike gives him a confused look and crosses his arms, his expression the epitome of teenage angst.

“We thought you hated Steve, dude. You would always leave the room whenever he was around with some shitty excuse so we just decided to do the same,” Mike answers. Dustin nods from his spot on the floor.

“Yeah, we all thought he did something or said something to you since every time we brought him up, you’d shut the conversation down somehow. It just… naturally progressed from not talking about him to not talking to him either,” Dustin explains.

“Steve stopped showing up to things, too. He used to help me practice but he’s not shown up in weeks,” Lucas adds.

“Mom’s gotten really worried about him. He’s not shown up to dinner in a while, either,” Dustin chimes in. He shrugs. “We just thought the feeling was mutual.”

Eddie clenches his eyes closed and throws his head back. Fuck, this is worse than he thought. He hears Robin shift beside him, and knows firsthand the look she’s giving them right now.

“Have any of you even considered asking Steve about this?” Robin asks accusatively. “Or even talking to him about anything other than rides or movie nights?”

Silence falls over the room, so thick and suffocating that Eddie briefly prefers the air of the Upside Down to this. He pulls his hair, scrunching down on the floor and balancing on the pads of his feet.

“This is all my fault,” he groans, twisting strands of hair frustratedly.

“It is,” Robin agrees and ignores the glare Eddie sends her way for that. “But we can still fix this.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Mike asks.

“Why does Eddie look three seconds away from strangling himself with his hair?” Max hesitates, sounding the most cautious he’s ever heard her. Eddie groans and avoids eye contact with the group.

“The reason I’m avoiding Steve isn’t because I hate him. It’s uh… quite the opposite, actually,” he explains, nervously fidgeting with his rings and pulling a thick strand of hair to hide his face. He glances at Robin, who gives him an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, and he rolls his eyes.

Max and Erica give him equally smug smirks while Will looks at him with wide, understanding eyes. The rest of the group, however, look confused.

“Wait, then why are you avoiding him?” Dustin asks.

“Dude, that makes zero sense,” Mike counteracts. El just looks lost, almost like she’s trying to read his mind. Which… he really wouldn’t be surprised if she could at this point. Eddie sighs.

“That’s not the point,” Eddie redirects. “The point is that an issue with me and Steve shouldn’t affect you guys’ relationship with him.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, and he deftly ignores the pointed look she sends his way. “Steve has been there for all of you for years.

“Dustin, wasn’t it Steve who helped you catch D’art when he escaped from your cellar? He bought pounds of meat for you to lure a demodog away with, then fought a pack of them by himself to keep you safe. Steve put himself in the line of fire again against said demodogs in the tunnels after he was beaten unconscious by Billy, then sacrificed himself to Russians just so you and Erica could make it out alive a year later.”

Dustin clamps his mouth shut from its gaping position—likely from him wanting to defend himself from the truth—and has the decency to look sheepish. Eddie turns his gaze to Lucas.

“Lucas, wasn’t it Steve who helped you train for basketball when you started to show an interest in it? He practiced with you every week, even after a long shift at work or when he felt like shit, just because you asked. Steve protected you against Billy because it was the right thing to do, and took a beating so you wouldn’t. Not many people can say they’d do that for someone else, especially not against anyone as vicious as Hargrove,” Eddie adds. Lucas drops his head in his hands, knee bouncing from his place on the couch.

“Max,” Robin begins. “Steve checked up on you every day after Billy died. He would bring you food or ice cream or a distraction, but he was always there. He would drive you to the arcade just to cheer you up, let you beat him at Dig Doug and Pinball just to see you smile. Steve was terrified to let you be the bait for Vecna, he… he kept telling me that he wished it was him instead. That he should be the sacrifice, not you.”

Robin wipes her eyes where they begin to tear up, and Eddie uses the pause to look at Mike. He still has his arms crossed, but the smartass look on his face has dwindled a little.

“Mike, I know you don’t like Steve because of him and Nancy, but you can’t hold onto that grudge forever. What happened between them had nothing to do with you, so there's no need to be mad at him for it,” Eddie states. Mike isn’t looking at him now, and something tells Eddie that the kid just needs a reality check. Hopefully, this will work. “Steve has been protecting you from the beginning, even when you were more than hostile to him. You’ve at least got to give him credit for that.”

Eddie looks around, sees the morose expressions on the kids’ faces.

“Steve has picked you all up countless times from Hellfire, waiting the entire session out in the parking lot while wasting away in his car. He was there rain or shine, snow or sleet, and he never missed a day. Not once,” he states.

Eddie first found Steve’s presence after Hellfire to be confusing, an anomaly. He didn’t know that the Steve the kids talked about was the same Steve he had a debilitating crush on in high school, not until he saw him waiting outside after the first session the kids attended, leaning against his maroon BMW like a Calvin Klein model. A ball of anxiety formed in his stomach at the sight, because one thing about Steve Harrington was that he’s unpredictable. Eddie just didn’t know if it was good or bad yet.

“You know, usually when people graduate they tend to stay away from high school, not willingly come back,” Eddie teased.

His words seemed to spark some life into Steve, as he jolted from his relaxed position against the hood to stand firmly beside his car. Steve ran a hand through his hair, and looked Eddie up and down.

“You’d probably know more about that if you managed to actually graduate, Munson,” Steve quipped, but it wasn’t mean. He had a smile on his face, and the air around him was friendly. Some of the anxiety churning in Eddie’s gut eased at the sight.

“Besides, who says I’m here willingly?” Steve asked rhetorically, as Dustin made his appearance by running up to him and immediately began talking his ears off about the new campaign. Steve turned his full attention on the boy, nodding along to certain comments even when Eddie knew for sure Steve didn’t know what the hell Henderson was talking about. The other kids soon crowded around the former jock, all talking so incredibly fast that Eddie was surprised the sound barrier survived their cracking voices.

Eddie watched as Steve glanced at him over the kids’ heads, giving him a loose smile and a shrug as if saying, ‘what can ya do?’

Soon, all the gremlins piled into Steve’s fancy car, still talking and gesturing wildly with their hands. Eddie had a passing thought that he should get Steve some earplugs or something to at least help drown out the noise. He immediately shook his head at the thought and jumped in his old, beat up van, driving home to an empty trailer and trying desperately to forget Steve Harrington existed.

“He always waits until the excitement starts to wear off before he takes you all home, letting you talk to each other for nearly an hour after each session despite the fact he never has a clue what you’re talking about. He always listens to you guys, no matter what,” Eddie supplies. “Did you guys know he has mixtapes for each of you?”

At the question, they all look at him with varying degrees of confusion and an all-too-late realization. Eddie huffs, while Robin mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like, ‘of course they didn’t.’

“There’s one for each of you, filled with songs you like or mentioned liking at some point despite some of them not being his own taste. He listens to you, all of you, and it fucking hurts to know you don’t see that,” he exposes, and part of him regrets letting a bit of his anger out. Though, the kids need to know this is serious, that you can’t go through life assuming the worst in people, so if being angry is what it takes then so be it.

The kids have various emotions on their faces, ashamed and regretful being the two most prominent. Dustin clears his throat and looks up at Eddie, flicks his eyes to Robin, and returns them to his lap.

“I… I didn’t realize he did so much for us,” Dustin quietly admits, and a small part of Eddie cheers at finally teaching the kid a thing or two about humility.

“We’ve been taking advantage of him for… for so long,” Lucas breathes out. Max nods morosely beside him, and Will raises a shaky hand to cover his mouth.

Mike rolls his eyes, still petulantly crossing his arms. “Why should we even care about him? All he’s probably doing is wallowing in his fancy house or something.”

He says it with a layer of snark so thick, all the kids turn to him with varying levels of bitchy glares. Eddie, however, can tell his attitude is a mask, a way for him to hide how he’s truly feeling to prevent from being too vulnerable. From being too open. Eddie knows a lot about that.

It started when Eddie was four and he scraped his knee on the harsh gravel outside his parents’ run-down home in Kentucky. Tears rolled down his chubby cheeks as he ran inside to tell his mom, who he knew would take care of him. She told him to play outside, and not come in until she told him so, but his knee really hurt and he was scared they would have to cut it off if it bled too much. At least, that’s what Charlie—a kid who lived two streets over—said they would do.

When he stepped over the threshold, something felt off. The house was quiet, more so than normal, and it set him on edge. The TV was filled with static that grated on his little ears, and he covered them with his hands as he made his way over to turn it off. He picked up the antenna off the floor, wondering how it got knocked off the top of the TV in the first place. He looked around the living room, finding it in a similar state of disarray. He followed the trail of broken things before him; the overturned coffee table, a spilled ashtray, a stray pillow, and the chair his dad always sat on, pushed far out of its normal place. He questioned who could have messed up his house like this, leaving a big mess behind.

He found his answer when he ventured into the kitchen, just a few short steps from the living room, and found his mother laying on the floor. She was on her stomach, arms splayed out as if she tried to catch her fall and head turned to look at the doorway where little Eddie stood. Her eyes were closed but she was still breathing, the floral pattern of her dress moving with each breath. Shards of ceramic were spread out around her, littered with droplets of dark blood that spilled from a cut on her forehead. It dripped down the side of her face, along the curve of her cheek and onto the floor where it formed a small puddle. Her skin was pale in the artificial light of the house, the soft yellows doing nothing to soften the tones of her ashen face.

“Mama!” He ran up to her, falling to his knees beside her still body. He shook her, trying to get her eyes to open, but all it rewarded him was a pained grunt. His eyes welled with tears again, this time for his Mama, but nothing he was doing was working.

A shadow fell over the floor and he looked up to find his father blocking the light from the gold-colored light fixture above the kitchen table. His face was stern and dirty looking, his stubble well past the point of a five o’clock shadow and leaning more towards a sleazy strip club owner. There was a smear of blood on his face from his hand, which he noticed was bruised around the knuckles. However, the sight of what was in his other hand made him freeze, entire body going stock still.

In his father’s left hand were the remnants of the broken plate on the floor, the jagged edges cutting into his skin where he gripped it tightly. Matching blood littered the edge, and a splatter of the dark liquid traveled up his hairy arm and disappeared into his rolled up flannel sleeve.

He looked up at the figure before him, and the tears spilled over against his will.

“What happened to Mama?” He asked. “Why won’t she wake up?”

“‘Cause she’s sorry, son,” his dad answered, throwing down the ceramic and causing it to shatter against the floor. Eddie flinched, and his father caught the motion. He hadn’t been able to quell it, hadn’t learned how to hide his fear yet. The man scowled at him, lip curling as he grabbed Eddie’s arm and hauled him off the floor in one solid motion.

“She’s weak, Edward,” he began. This close, Eddie could see the redness of his eyes, and the deep purple bags that hang underneath. “Just like all women. Do you wanna be weak, boy?”

Eddie shook his head, and his father gripped his arm tighter. “Answer me!”

“N-No sir,” Eddie muttered, voice small and weak in the face of his father.

“Then stop that fucking crying, don’t be a sissy. I ain’t raising a fucking faggot, Edward.”

With that, his dad dropped his arm and stumbled into his bedroom down the hall. As soon as his figure was gone, Eddie turned back to his mom, crouching next to her. Sometime when his dad was talking, her eyes had opened and her breathing grew stronger. Eddie felt like it was nothing short of a small miracle.

“Mama, are you okay?”

“‘M okay, baby,” she replied, pushing herself off the floor with a grunt. She sat up with Eddie’s help, and frowned when she saw the reddened mark on his arm. “I shouldn’t have let him do that to you.”

“You were hurt, Mama. ‘S not your fault,” Eddie reasoned, pulling his arm out of her grasp to wipe at some of the blood on her face. “You’re bleeding, too.”

“Oh,” she began, reaching up to touch the wound as if she hadn’t realized it was there. “It’s nothing, Eddie, just a little scratch. Mama will be okay, promise.”

She didn’t look okay, this close, with her sunken-in face and slowly forming black eye Eddie hadn’t been able to see before. But his Mama was always right. Always.

“Pinky promise?” Eddie asked, holding out his little pinky. His Mama smiled, and raised a shaky hand to lace her pinky with his.

“Pinky promise.”

A year later, he was riding in the car with his Mama, backpack at his feet. She was dressed nicer than he ever remembered her being; a baby blue, short-sleeved dress hugged her slender frame, paired with white heels, white bug-eyed sunglasses, and a sheer white scarf she had tied around her hair. Her suitcase was in the trunk, but his father was nowhere to be found.

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Where’s Dad?” He asked. His Mama cleared her throat before she answered, voice shaky.

“He’s not coming with us, Eddie,” she said. “We’re going somewhere far away from him. Somewhere new.”

“Where?”

“Have a look for yourself, honey,” she said, pointing to the window. Eddie crawled up on his knees to look out, seeing a sign welcoming them to a place called Hawkins. He sat back down in his seat, looking back at his mother.

“What’s here?” He asked. His mother smiled.

“Your Uncle Wayne. He’s my brother,” she supplied. “We’re just going to pay him a little visit, okay?”

A few short minutes later, they were parked in front of a small trailer, a gruff looking man waiting for them on the newly-built porch. They got out of the car and Eddie grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders before his Mama led him up the steps.

“Eddie, this is Uncle Wayne,” his Mama informed. He looked up at her and she nudged his arm, urging him to say something.

“H-Hello, sir,” Eddie greeted, sticking out his small hand for the man to shake. Wayne huffed a laugh and crouched down, causing Eddie to take a step back on instinct, before he took his hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet ya, Eddie,” Wayne began. He let go of his hand but stayed crouched. “You can call me Wayne, or Uncle Wayne, or Uncle, or—hell, Todd for all I care. Just none of that ‘sir’ business, you got me?”

Eddie smiled and nodded. “Sorry, si—uh, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s better, boy,” Wayne said, smiling as he clapped his shoulder softly. Wayne had kind eyes, blue and soft around the edges. They weren’t mean like his fathers. Instead, they looked exactly like his Mama’s—save for a few extra wrinkles around the edges. “Why don’t you go on inside while your Mama and I talk?”

Eddie did as he was told, walking in the trailer and taking in his surroundings. It was small, smaller than his house, but cozy. A couple mugs were hung up on the wall, paired with three trucker hats and a framed picture he was too far away to see. An old, floral patterned couch sat on the long wall of the living room, a coffee table in front littered with an opened can of Coke and a half-eaten bag of chips. The windows were open to let light in, making the space feel much bigger than it actually was.

He stepped into the kitchen, just a pace away from the living room, and took in the red-toned wooden cabinets and cream countertops stained with coffee rings yet to be wiped away. There was a hallway to his left where he found a single bedroom and a bathroom. The bathroom was small, just big enough for a stand-up shower, toilet, and sink. A single toothbrush sat in the cup on the side of the sink along with a bar of soap and an almost empty tube of toothpaste. On the other side of the sink though, Eddie noticed an unopened toothbrush. It was blue and had sparkles throughout its plastic. At the bottom, there was a small dog sticker and it made him smile a little.

His attention soon wandered to the bedroom, where he found a little twin-sized bed and tons of boxes. The bed was bare, save for a folded up quilt near the bottom with a pillow on top. The boxes were filled with various things; clothes, books, a cassette player, shoes, and tons of other small trinkets. He sat on the ground, pulling a box closer to look through it. There were thin books near the top labeled ‘Hawkins High’, and he flipped through it to find pictures upon pictures of people. He read the names, sounding them out to see if he could get them right. Some of them were weird, though, and he quickly put the book down to look at something else.

There was a box of cassette tapes to his left and Eddie scooted over to look through it. There were tons of names he didn’t recognize as he rifled through the plastic cases, though one stood out to him.

He picked up the Fleetwood Mac tape along with the cassette player from a box near the closet, plugging it into the wall and putting the tape in. He eyed the front door, seeing it still firmly closed. Just then, the tape clicked, causing him to jump, and he pressed play.

The familiar voice filled his ears, and he smiled. He and his Mama used to listen to Fleetwood Mac back home in the kitchen while they made supper, singing along with the tape or the radio to fill the house with music. The sound of it brought a smile to his face, and he closed his eyes as he listened to the words.

Engrossed in the music, he barely registered that the front door had both opened and closed until a soft hand was laid on his shoulder.

“Eddie, baby, I have to go,” his Mama said, and he jumped to his feet. He kinda felt bad about going through Uncle Wayne’s things without him being there, but if they were leaving then he didn’t think he would get too mad.

“Where are we going now, Mama?” Eddie wondered. His mother’s face turned pinched, and she lifted her glasses to look at him directly. She wore make-up, much more than she usually did, and as she crouched down Eddie could see it was barely disguising a bruise along the top of her right cheekbone.

“Eddie, only I’m leaving,” his Mama corrected. “You’re staying here with Wayne.”

At that, his whole world fell apart.

His mother, his Mama, was leaving him. It didn’t seem fair that he couldn’t go with her, that he couldn’t stay with his Mama like he wanted to. Wayne seemed nice from their brief interaction, but he didn’t know him. Not like he knew his Mama.

His stomach sank to his feet, and it felt as if someone poured ice-cold water over him. His eyes grew wide as tears welled, spilling over his cheeks.

“Why, Mama?” Eddie sobbed, wiping at his face because he wasn’t supposed to cry. “Why can’t I go with you?”

“You just can’t, Eddie, I’m sorry,” she stated. It felt hollow, her explanation. Like she was hiding something.

“But why?”

“Because you just can’t, Eddie!” She snapped, and Eddie’s breath caught. She sounded mad, but Eddie had never heard her get mad, not at him at least. He didn’t know what he did, only that she wouldn’t let him go with her.

She took a breath and cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“But- But you can’t leave me!” Eddie wailed. “Mama, please!”

She opened her arms and he fell into them, clinging hard enough to deem separating impossible. She hugged him back just as tight, and Eddie saw evidence of tear tracks streaking through her caked-on foundation.

“I know, baby, I don’t want to leave you either,” his Mama soothed. “But Wayne is going to take care of you, okay?”

Eddie looked over her shoulder to see Wayne leaning against one of the kitchen countertops, smiling sadly at him. Eddie screwed his eyes shut and buried his face in his mothers neck.

“You’re gonna come back, right?” Eddie mumbled before he moved to look at her. “Pinky promise you’re gonna come back for me.”

His Mama cried and wiped at her cheeks, smearing the make-up and making the bruises appear fresh on her pale skin. She held out a pinky, and Eddie laced his with hers.

“I promise, Eddie,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead before getting to her feet. Her and Wayne shared a hug on her way out, and Eddie caught Wayne wiping his eyes too. He and his uncle stood on the porch as his mom drove away, waving until her taillights disappeared around the curve of the road.

That was the last time he saw his mother.

Unfortunately, it was not the last he saw his father.

He stayed with Wayne for two months until his father found him. They had grown accustomed to each other in that time, Eddie having warmed up to another parental figure and Wayne having gotten the basics down for caring for another being. Wayne insisted he start school in the fall, and he was two weeks in when all hell broke loose.

His father rolled up to the trailer in a fancy-looking sports car Eddie knew his dad didn’t have the money for. He stumbled out on the gravel, banging on the door until Wayne pulled it open.

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Wayne asked, standing firm in the doorway.

“I’m here to get my son,” his father demanded. He pushed past him and stormed the place until he found Eddie in the only bedroom—Wayne having set up a cot in the living room.

Eddie hadn’t expected to see his father again, mostly because he didn’t think the man really cared for him. That was prominent when he snatched Eddie off the bed and hauled him out of his room.

“Dad?” Eddie questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you away from here,” his father responded, glaring at Wayne who stood blocking the doorway.

“You’re not takin’ him anywhere, Al,” Wayne countered. He crossed his arms, looking far more intimidating than Eddie ever imagined. “He’s happy here.”

“He’ll be even more happy with me,” his dad insisted. “With his real family.”

“Son of a bitch, Al, I am his real family!” Wayne yelled. “You ain’t got the means for takin’ care of that boy, and you know it.”

His father stood toe to toe with his uncle, glaring at him. He whispered something Eddie was too far away to hear, but it made Wayne deflate completely.

Eddie didn’t want to leave. He found that these past two months with Wayne were filled with more happy memories than he ever remembered having back home. Wayne was nice, a little rough around the edges but he was a big softy inside. He cared about people, that much was evident in the way he was constantly helping people out around the park. He was a good person, so leaving him felt like his Mama all over again.

“Come on, son,” his father demanded, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the trailer. Eddie looked back at Wayne, eyes stinging. He waved, and Wayne waved back. He watched the trailer from the backseat until he couldn’t tell which one was theirs, only facing the front when his dad snapped at him.

They rode for hours, far past the Indiana state line, until they ended up in a strange city filled with tall buildings and blinding lights that made Eddie’s eyes sting. They went through the city, stopping on the outskirts in a run-down neighborhood even more decrepit than his old house in Kentucky.

He spent two years with his dad in a city he came to know at St. Louis, but it never felt like home. Not like the trailer with Wayne, or anywhere his mother was. He learned how to hotwire cars and how to drive like a bat out of hell whenever his dad told him to. He learned that he was too much to take care of; his father constantly complained about feeding him, keeping him clothed, taking care of him like a father should. He learned that showing emotions would only get you hurt, that he had to hide them to survive. He learned what all the different white powders did to someone, how they would affect your mind and your body. How they made his father violent, or remorseful, or depressed, but never happy.

His father was on a bad trip when a rush of red and blue lights invaded their windows, sirens blaring and making Eddie’s ears ring. Their front door was kicked open, the old wood splintering easily under the force of a steel-toed boot. Police flooded the house, and Eddie was grabbed and dragged out before he had time to comprehend everything that was happening.

He was sitting in the back of a cop car with the door open, body completely still as police went in and out of their house. He couldn’t let them know he was scared out of his mind, that he was afraid of what they would do to him. He knew the best way to get through it was to show nothing at all. To be indifferent. Emotionless. It was the only thing his father taught him that he deemed useful.

His father was dragged out of the house by two policemen, kicking and screaming at them but Eddie couldn’t hear what he was saying, ears having gone deaf to anything other than the ringing in his head. Next thing he knew, his father had broken free and punched one of the officers, causing several to tackle him to the ground and handcuff him before practically throwing him into a car and hauling him away. All Eddie could do was watch, knowing there was nothing he could do to help him.

“You got somewhere to go, kid?” One of the cops that took him out of the house asked, leaning against the open door and blocking the flashing lights. Eddie nodded, and the cop took him back to the station where he called Wayne.

“Eddie, son, where are you? Are you okay? If that bastard hurt you, I swear to god—“

“Wayne,” Eddie began, his voice rough from not using it. “Can you come get me?”

A pause. “Sure, kid, where are you?”

“St. Louis,” Eddie supplied. There was cursing on the other end, muffled so Eddie couldn’t tell what was said but he knew Wayne well enough. Even after only two months, the man had become more like a father to him than his own dad ever was.

“I’m coming right now to get ya, just hold on tight, okay? I’ll be there ‘fore the morning.”

True to his word, Wayne showed up right before dawn in his beat up truck. He stormed the station like a madman, looking for him. He was rumpled, like he threw on just enough clothes to be decent before booking it all the way here. If he knew Wayne, that’s probably exactly what he did.

“Eddie? Eds, where are ya?”

“Sir,” the lady at the front desk interrupted. “I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voice—“

“Wayne!” Eddie perked up from the desk chair he was sitting at in the station, running around desks before jumping straight in his uncle's arms. Wayne held onto him just as tight, and he could’ve sworn he heard a sniffle or two come from the man.

“I was so worried, Eds,” Wayne whispered. “I tried lookin’ for ya, I swear I did, just—If I’d known he’d taken ya to another state I wouldn’t’ve stopped ‘til I searched the whole damn country.”

“I know, Wayne,” Eddie muttered. “I missed you too.”

As much as Eddie tried, he couldn’t put up that mask of indifference around his uncle. He could try, sure, but it never worked longer than five seconds before he saw right through it and it crumbled at Eddie’s feet.

“Let’s get you home, son,” Wayne insisted and before he knew it, Eddie was asleep in the passenger seat of the truck as they took the highway home.

Since then, Eddie and Wayne had become inseparable. There were no secrets between them, no masks. They weren’t needed, not when Wayne was more than good to him. They weren’t wanted, either, since Wayne made sure to remind him that showing emotions wasn’t a bad thing. That it was good, healthy.

It wasn’t until much later in middle school when he learned that having a mask was necessary sometimes. Especially when people started calling him a freak and a weirdo because he wasn’t identical to everyone else. Because he lived in a trailer with someone that wasn’t his biological parent and wore hand-me-down clothes that were baggy on him since his growth spurt hadn’t hit yet. He donned the air of indifference he had left behind long ago, letting the names and rumors bounce off his skin like water off an umbrella.

That need intensified when high school hit and the rumor mill grew exponentially. Suddenly, he was bombarded with accusations of Satanism, prison time, drug dealing—though that one was true—pet raccoons, and, at one point, an army of undead babies he sucked the life out of that he could command at will. Really, the shit people came up with was astounding, and Eddie learned to shove it all away. None of it was true—save for a couple things he would never, in a million years, tell another soul at Hawkins High—so he made sure to act like it was true. Let people believe what they want to believe. In the meantime, Eddie used it to his advantage to prevent anyone from getting too close. From looking past the barrier he put up between himself and everyone else.

So yeah, Eddie knows a little bit about where Mike’s coming from.

“Actually…” Robin starts. “Steve’s not doing so great—“

“What?!” Dustin squawks out, cutting Robin off and all but jumping up from his seated position. “Why the hell did you not start this whole damn thing with that?!”

“We were getting there, Henderson!” Eddie clarifies. “Now sit your ass down.”

Dustin—for once—does as he’s told. Eddie looks to Robin and gives her a nod, letting her have the floor.

“Steve’s got it in his head that he’s the only one allowed to sacrifice himself for us, that he’s only needed or wanted when he can put himself in the line of fire. So, like the caring dumbass he is, he’s been wandering around Hawkins at night because he’s worried that something will happen.”

“But I closed all of the gates,” El starts, head cocked and eyebrows scrunched like a confused puppy. “We are in no more danger.”

“I think part of him knows that, Supergirl,” Eddie explains. “But he needs to know for certain, to make sure you guys are absolutely safe.”

She nods, and sadness finds its way to her eyes. Eddie feels a pang of sympathy for her, knowing that learning how to live all over again is never easy.

“He’s not been sleeping much,” Robin continues. “It’s like he’s barely there anymore. Like he’s just… a shell.

“He thinks you all hate him. He thinks he deserves this for all the shit he did in the past, even though we all know he’s more than made up for it by becoming a decent fucking human being,” she spits out. There’s anger in her eyes now as she glares at a stain on the carpet, unwilling to look at the kids but needing to get her point across. “He broke down in my arms because this is the fifth fucking time the people he’s loved has left him and I think… I think this time broke him.”

She raises her head and looks over the kids, tears balanced on her lower eyelashes and threatening to spill over.

“You’re his family, the family he got to choose, and you still… you left. Just like everyone else has.”

The room fills with silence as the words sink in.

“How… How do we fix it?” Will asks, his quiet voice now loud. Eddie sighs and rakes a hand through his hair—a motion that keeps reminding him of Steve—before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I know part of it is my fault, I admit that. I shouldn’t have just stopped talking to him all of the sudden, I should’ve… well, there’s a lot of things I should have done but I didn’t, so I plan on fixing that,” Eddie admits. He looks around the room, makes as much eye contact as he can to drive his point home. “You should too. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to cut it, not this time. Not for this.”

The kids all nod, and Eddie gestures to the door to dismiss them. They all look like kicked puppies with slouching posture and ducked heads, walking out of the trailer with their tails between their legs. Dustin and Mike are the first to hop on their bikes, ready to either apologize and get it over with or get as far away from his and Robin’s disappointed glares as possible. Before they can push off, Eddie calls out to them.

“Hey! Give it a couple days,” Eddie orders. “Steve… He’s going to need some time. Go to him when he’s ready, okay?”

He’s met with various nods and ‘will do’s as some of them take off, their knobbly knees hitting the handlebars of their too-small bikes. Then, he notices a particular brunette has yet to leave, her bike with little white training wheels still standing in the grass. Her big brown eyes lock with his and, even though there's a porch between them, he can feel the seriousness in her gaze.

“I miss him. He was always very nice to me,” El confesses. “He always gave me piggyback rides.”

Her face falls a little. “I did not know we were being mean to him.”

Eddie finds himself softening a little at her words.

“I know, Supergirl,” he winks at her. “That’s why you’re my favorite.” 

She giggles in response and hops on her bike, meeting up with Max who stopped to wait for her a few yards away. 

Eddie closes the door, falling against it with a thud. He groans, the sound bouncing off the thin door and out in the empty trailer. He turns to go to his room, preferably to wallow, before nearly jumping clean out of his skin. 

Well, he thought the trailer was empty, except there now stands one Robin Buckley who has resumed her unimpressed, hands-on-her-hips, "you're a fucking dumbass" position from earlier. 

"Jesus H. Christ!" He exclaims. A hand comes up to grab at his heart which is actively trying to beat out of his chest as his lungs grapple for air. "Birdie, I forgot you were there."

"Yeah," she deadpans. "Clearly." 

Eddie straightens up, and quirks an eyebrow at her rather over dramatically. Robin rolls her eyes.

"Well?"

"It's a deep subject," Eddie sarcastically responds. Robin, unfortunately, doesn't find that funny. "'Well' what?"

"Go apologize!" She yells. 

“Okay, okay, geez!”

Eddie pats himself down, looking for the keys to his van before Robin clears her throat. He looks over at her to see an unamused quirk of her eyebrow before she points to the hook by the door where his keys hang. 

“Thanks, Buck!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together in prayer to the saint she is. Grabbing them, he throws the door open and clears the steps in one jump, stumbling a bit on the landing but really, he’s quite proud of this rare athletic appearance. 

Jumping in his van, he slams a random tape in the deck, grinning a little at the song that plays first. Despite his obvious avoidance of the second track, the Master of Puppets album still holds a very special place in his heart. So it's really not a surprise that the song that just so happens to play first reminds him of the very man he’s going to see, sacrificial tendencies and all. 

He slams on the gas, tires squealing as he peels out of Forest Hills trailer park faster than he ever has before. 

He’s not running away this time; not running from a small cheerleader’s body trapped on his ceiling, not running from angry town hicks with their fiery pitchforks, and not running from a creepy interdimensional demon who enjoys sucking the life out of depressed teenagers. 

No, this time, he’s running to something. Running to Steve. 

He just hopes Steve will let him.

———

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