#so long answer short: yes i will! but you can only write so much if you're sticking to character studies alone. so probably not a *lot*

[red-doll-face]

Heeyyy! Soooo I have a fun request idea that I totally came up with on my own with no help from anybody else, from my own mind and not some super creative person that answered my question about Arthur proposing to reader 🤣 it goes something like this:

-takes three months to work up the nerve and like another one to pick out one ring.

-chickens out at least two times bc the moment isn't right

-asks Hosea for advice 19 times (Hosea is tired)

-he's the trope where reader starts crying and he's like ohh goddd i fucked up of course you don't wanna marry my ass

-the way he would ride around for a week looking for the perfect spot to do it

-marks it on his map with a heart

-the essays he would write in his journal about this situation

-he's so cute i love him pls marry me Arthur Morgan

-awww once you say yes??

Hehehehe no pressure though!!!!! I just looooovvvveeeee this idea so much!

Yes !!! Yes of course I’ll write this!!! ❤️❤️💕💕🥰🥰😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩As always it ended up running really long even though I didn’t even really flesh out a back story. 🥲 I’m glad you enjoyed my response ☺️☺️ I definitely had high honor Arthur Morgan in mind for this when I read it, I hope it’s ok and that you like it!!! I was so happy to see you in my inbox !!! @zae-heeyyy 💓💓💓💓💓 writing this was so cathartic and I loved the rdr1 setting so much so that I made this pre black water heist or whatever 😭🫶 from Arthur’s pov hope you like the characterization 🥹

Tags: established relationship, marriage proposals?? Arthur being a major weenie. Like huge weenie. He is soooo sooo sweet it’s almost like too much and I love love love sweet Arthur so very fluffy!!!! Pre black water !! Dutch being a jerk 😒 but cute dad Hosea moments ☺️

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur knows he’s made up his mind when he’s in the tailor’s shop in Blackwater, looking like a lowdown cattle rustler among all of the fancy fabrics on the wall. He and his spurs, his boots scuffed to hell and a leather satchel slung over his chest. He’s out of place and he knows it. But he’s here to buy a new shirt.

Yesterday, he had nearly driven himself insane looking for a shirt of his that wasn’t ruined, ripped and mended, dirty, stained irreparably. None of them were good enough for what he wanted, something nice to get down on one knee and ask his girl to marry him. And so he kissed you goodbye and rode into town in search of something better. He makes an effort at pretending to be interested in any of the fancy stuff, silk and linen suits that he sure will never be fitted for him. He clears his throat as the attendant drags his eyes away from the sunday paper.

A tight lipped smile consumes the man's face. Arthur already can sense the assumptions he’s getting but he pays little mind to it. He’s getting this shirt and that's that.

“How can I help you, sir?” Obnoxious and nasally, the thin and short man's voice already gives away his air of superiority. Arthur's eyes narrow but he isn’t too irritated yet.

“Here to get a shirt.” His words are simple. The attendant raises a brow.

“Just a shirt, not… pants or shoes?” the attendant lowers the paper to scan over the rest of Arthur’s clothes. Arthur can hardly ignore the burn of insecurity.

He gives a look that conveys how quickly he is losing his patience. “Excuse me?” He can only tell his posture changed when he observes the man's attitude change, clinging to the counter between them like it would make any difference.

“No, well sir, perhaps I’ve overstepped, I apologize. What kind of-of shirts were you thinking?”

“Listen, I ain’t here to cause no trouble, just show me what you’ve got,” The attendant hurries to show him some options, tries to sell him a vest but that isn’t happening with his budget.

In the end, he picks a blue french dress shirt. Costs a real pretty penny but he wants it to be special. Because you’re special. He stuffs it away in a saddlebag after thanking the attendant, who no doubt heaves a sigh of relief after he leaves.

-

He’s been collecting rings. In a special bag is a collection. A few plain gold bands, some with stones set in them. They’re pretty blue and red gems, some have filigree detailing. But he still can’t find the right one.

Worse then, is that they’re rings of all different sizes which he gets from his more sordid activities. Debt collecting or train robberies. It’s all stolen goods. It feels wrong to give you something like that but when he told Dutch his intentions, he clapped him on the back and told him to look in the collection box for more rings. He nodded then but it was half hearted. Somehow that was more souring. Did he really want to give you something he took from someone else? That someone else bought for their loved one with the express purpose of giving them something to symbolize how they loved each other? His own thoughts swirl circles in his head, why he had these scruples about it, he didn’t know.

It’s riding with Hosea that he asks for advice. They’ve been working on a job in Tumbleweed, trying to con some poor fool into giving money he shouldn’t by pretending to sell land deeds. They ride all the way from the yellow grasses of Hennigan’s Stead and it’s been mostly quiet over the stretch of passing though Armadillo. Arthur decides to speak up after they pass through town. The sun is beginning to dip a bit lower in the sky but they’ll be in Tumbleweed before then.

“I been-”

“This about you n’ the girl?” Hosea already has a knowing smile and Arthur rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should do it! You two would make quite the couple, she’s a sweetheart, that girl,”

“Yeah, she-she’s… I’ve been lookin’ at rings to give ‘er,” He grips the reins before going lax, riding easily along the path. Hosea murmurs, letting Arthur continue. He guides Boadicea down the dusty road. “I don’t think I wanna give her something I got robbin’, don’t seem right,”

“Then get her something new, I don’t think she’ll mind at all. But you do what you think you should. You could probably fence all the other rings you thought about and get her something quite nice with the cash,”

“Yeah, I could do that,” why hadn't he thought of that?

“That’s a wonderful thing, getting married. Don’t be afraid to, y’know, go through with it. If you’re thinkin’ about it. Maybe, once Dutch and I find the perfect spot for the gang to settle down, we’ll build you two your own little thing on the land,”

“You that confident she’ll say yes?” Arthur has an awkward and disbelieving laugh but Hosea keeps his earnest smile.

“Why wouldn’t she? Arthur, somehow, she has gone for a man like you, you should be over the moon, you should be whistling tunes everywhere you go,”

“Like me? What's that supposed to mean?” He knows what he means. A man like him had very little to offer you, a young woman who could easily charm some other well established man into giving you a home. Leagues away from his cot and the weathered canvas he put up to give you some small amount of privacy.

“You remember what happened with that Mary woman. This time, things oughta turn out better. This one’s got no old man to chase you around with a shotgun,” Hosea figures himself very funny and laughs, ending it with a shallow cough. Arthur furrows his brows.

Of course he reminded him of his disaster with Mary. He could never escape that woman, even when he severed ties with her. But how he had wanted to, especially with you. Yes, it was true, he had loved Mary. But now he loves you. He needs you. His idea of the rest of his life always includes you, laying in bed with him, gently stroking his chest, leaving him love notes in his satchel, telling him what happened in the camp while he was gone. He always listens, always wakes up smiling with you tucked under his arm.

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

“Good, because you’ll forget about her soon enough. Month from now, I suppose. Where are you going to tell her?”

“Where? I didn’t think we was gonna go nowhere, just tell her when I was ready to…” he hadn’t even imagined a place when he first set out to do this.

“So you wanna propose; with Uncle standing behind her, drunk off his ass in just his soiled union suit?”

“I-”

“Take her somewhere special, somewhere to make her feel special! Women like to feel special, Arthur, you know that,”

“I do?” He says, with a sarcastic edge to his voice, though he tries on his attempt at sounding uninvested.

“You should. I didn’t do that enough. I should have before, well…” Arthur nods, bowing his head a little as if in remembrance. He hopes to always have you by his side. Otherwise he would be much like Hosea: carrying a torch for a woman who passed through his life too quickly.

-

He starts his journey looking for something special. Special like you are. Keeps his eye out, marking potential things in his map, and makes a list in his journal. Aurora Basin maybe, a pretty lake deep in the forest but getting attacked by bears doesn’t sound romantic in any way. There are some sweeping vistas overlooking the San Luis River in Rio Bravo. He isn’t quite sure about anything though, thinking it over deeply. He just wants things to be perfect.

He’s still thinking about it when he comes back to camp, close to Lake Don Julio, sighing. Thinking much too hard obviously, he doesn’t notice that you’re sitting on his bed, biting your nail nervously until you see him first. You look worried, happy to see him but worried. You stand, hugging your arms around yourself and then placing them on your hips to make you seem more upset but you just drop them when he’s close enough.

“Hey, darlin’,” He utters, opening his arms to give you a hug but you just look up at him. He drops them, mentally kicking himself before taking his hat off and sitting down on his bed.

“Arthur, you’ve been gone three days,”

“I know,” you’re disappointed in his answer. You take a breath and a pause, looking off to the right. He stares down at his scuffed and weather worn boots. He hates to disappoint you, hates when you’re upset. It takes a lot to get you there, too. You’re a forgiving soul when he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He looks away, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have chewed those leather boots up to bits.

“You know. I asked everyone where you were and they didn’t know,”

“Honey, I ain’t gonna leave you, I’m not-”

“You leave other men out of this, Arthur,” you already predicted he’d bring another man’s failings to make up for his own. Maybe bringing up John’s shortcomings while you’re upset is a little below the belt but it worked better in his head. He puffs some air out in a laugh. God, he just can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Is something funny? Is how much-how much I worry funny to you?” You look like you’re gonna cry, squeezing your arms tight around yourself. Your eyes flick around, thinking of all the people watching, never any goddamn privacy in this place. You start to back up, looking for a place to hide your tears.

“No, no, I- I’m sorry, don’t go walkin’ away,” You let him pull you back. Let him tug you into his lap. You sniff and tuck into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says at least 5 more times. His hands pet down your hair, holding you. He hadn’t wanted to come back to such a harrowing fear in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you walking off without him. He thinks himself lucky that you haven’t had enough of him and decided to leave already.

Arthur pulls you in real tight, doesn’t let up til’ you start to calm down a little. “Shouldn’t cry for me, sweet girl, bastard like me ain’t worth them tears,” he wipes a few away. Seeing you like this could make him cry if he thought about it too much, how he had let you down. His nerves almost make him tremble, the slightest shake in his fingers when he brushes them under your eyes, shiny with tears. If anyone else made you cry, he’d knock their teeth out. But what is he supposed to do when it’s him? Sickness roils around his abdomen.

“Where were you, anyway?” You shake your head at his words. “Mac and Davey said…” he perks up at that. Those boys are a terror. His face screws up in an anticipated anger. He’d be angrier with them, they’re the ones who need to see it, not you.

“What’d they say?”

“No, they were just messing with me. I don’t think it’s true,” You look away. But he knows exactly how nasty those boys can be. He gives you a look and you give him a defeated one in return. An embarrassment leaks into your words. You can’t meet his eyes, twiddling your fingers.

“They said you were at the saloon in town. They said things that aren’t true and I know it but it isn’t nice to leave me here with nothing to say about it,”

“I know, darlin’, next time, you’ll be the first to know where I’m goin’,” You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he pats your back, grabs your thigh so he can pull you to sit across his lap fully.

“Are you gonna answer my question or should I take their word?” you tease and he reassures you about those boys. They’ll be hearing from him soon enough.

“I’m gonna have a word with them, don’t worry about it,” he scratches his beard. How is he supposed to say that he went riding around looking for a place to take you so he can ask you to take his sorry hand in marriage? He had already disappointed you and saying it’s a secret is a laughable idea.

“Well, I was out, uhh- huntin’?” You frown and lean away.

“Arthur, you’re an awful hunter and an awful liar,” you look really hurt. You almost stand but he pulls you back. He needs something to tell you and fast.

“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ real special to give you. It’s supposed to be a surprise…but well, I can’t keep no secrets from you, sweetheart,” You fuss a little, a wariness in your posture. You study his expression. It isn’t a complete lie, makes it a bit easier to pull off. He really does have a surprise for you. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch up when yours do to, a small smile shining through the clouds of your emotional turmoil.

“What surprise?”

“I didn’t find it, guess a surprise, it’s gonna have to stay,” You pout and wiggle, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Ok, but once you find it, you better take me to see it right away,” You kiss him, soft and sweet, holding his prickly jaw in one hand. He can feel how your pout gives way to a smile. The feeling of your soft lips on his is one of those things he’ll never get sick of, never get over.

“I will, promise,”

-

He’s found the perfect ring, really, by chance. It’s a little thing but it’s the right color, goes well with you. The rock on it isn’t very big but he saw it in a window while in town. Some big fancy jewelry store, showing off all the finer things that he never paid any mind to. Unless it was to steal it of course. But he had bought it. With money that may have been also robbed but it was from hitting a Del Lobo stash. A good deed, probably in a backwards sense.

The girls had ‘oohed’ at it, Mary-Beth had an excited tiny clap and Tilly rejoiced. Jenny nodded with a small smile.

“We’re happy for you Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur Morgan, gettin’ married…” Tilly giggles, putting her hands to her cheeks and clasping her hands in front of the skirt of her yellow dress.

Karen laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day,”

“Don’t listen to her, I mean we was hoping when we saw you two huddled up all the time,” Mary-Beth takes the ring from him, holding it closer, so that Jenny and Tilly can get a closer look.

“Hey, be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to sound too desperate. He scratches his neck instead of snatching it back like his instinct wants him to. Evening is coming soon, purple dusk and soft coyote yipping and howling far in the distance marks the sun's descent. Meaning you’re probably finishing up whatever it is you’re doing. He hopes you don’t come around the corner at an inopportune time. Arthur turns his head this way and that.

“Where’d you get it? Looks new, ain’t scuffed to high heaven like everything else around here,” Jenny points out and the girls nod.

“Bought it in town,” playing it off doesn’t work so well.

They ‘ooh’ some more. “Fancy. Only the best for Arthur’s sweetheart,” Karen coos teasingly.

“Gimme that,” grumbling, he takes the ring back, bowing his head so they can’t see the embarrassment plain on his face. He meanders off after asking how things have been. Of course, they only give him updates about you, Karen jokes that that’s all he wants to hear about anyway. He scoffs and wishes them a good evening.

But the perfect spot is yet to be discovered. Evades him like just about nothing else. He almost gives up on the idea. He’s been taking you out, trying to get you in the almost perfect moments. Taking you out on the town in Blackwater was a good time, he bought you dinner and took you on a stroll down the cobbled streets, watching your face light up when you saw something pretty in a window, clutching his hand and pulling him in more. He almost proposed on the veranda at the Blackwater saloon. Only for a fight to break out at the poker table to interrupt.

Then he took you out to see the poppy fields in Great Plains. But he had let his anxiousness and his nerves overtake him. He had tucked the ring away. You had looked so beautiful standing among the flowers, it was perfect but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he wrote in his journal about his own cowardice. Wrote about if he should lock you to him for the rest of your life. If he’d end up leaving you a widow. Or if you were to be taken from him like Annabelle and Bessie. Leaving behind lonely men who longed for a woman gone from this world. Then he scribbled pictures of you, trying to draw the motion in your hair and in your dress and the beaming most enchanting smile he had ever seen.

Boadicea munched on the long wheat grass, waving in the wind while he kept a watchful eye on you, picking flowers in your pretty dress fluttering against the bright blue of the sky. You have a bunch of candy orange poppy flowers held together by your palms, a bright smile on your face. You walk to where he sits, leaning against the tree, next to a small broken down stone fence. Your smile falters when you see his pensive expression. You come close enough to touch. You dangle one flower above him before you tuck it into the frayed ropes banded around the crown of his hat. He lowers his head while you fuss. Smiling like a fool. You smile again too, sitting beside him. You both listen to the sound of the quiet plains, breeze in the branches above him. The shade is cool, light filters beautifully over your features, speckled like the back of a doe.

“Something has been going on with you, Arthur,” you state as pure fact, knowing him all too well. You had only really known each other a year and have only been together as a couple for six months but you knew him better than anyone else. You had let him be himself, let him just…be. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand him.

“I’ve just been… thinkin’ bout some things,”

“Really? I thought you said you weren’t very good at that,” you smile a little, nudging his shoulder. Hoping to lift his spirits with his similar brand of humor but when he hardly huffs a laugh, you frown. “Is it about you and me?”

“Yeah, in a way,” he says, unable to hide anything from you. Why should he bother? Saying no would make you more suspicious. Arthur closes his eyes and can feel the panic rising in you. He could have been better about saying it but he’s quick to deflect it away from his secret. “You happy with me?” low and grumbled, the severity makes his tone go way down.

“I don’t understand. Do I not seem happy? Arthur, I’ve never…I’ve never been happier than I am with you. You’re the kind of man any girl would be lucky to have,” You smile, leaning to face him. Softening up, your eyes track over his face.

He wanted to ask you right then and there. Tell you just how much you complete him. How lucky he was to have you, how there never was a happier time in his life. He doesn’t believe in that sentiment you have, he had failed the women in his life. But he had wanted to make a vow, to never leave you alone. It’s his own nerves that wrap tight around his hands, don’t let him reach in his satchel for the little treasure that will be your wedding ring.

“No, I just know I been gone, I don’t wanna ignore you. I just been busy,”

“You have things to do,” You sigh heavily. “I wish the other men would be as helpful as you. Sometimes, I watch Sean, Uncle, and Bill lay around all day while you’re out working. It doesn’t seem fair,” Your brows pinch in a small dissatisfaction with the idea. He smirks.

“I don’t know how much I trust Sean to get things done right. We’d probably eat nothin’ but leaded rabbit meat and whiskey if we left it up to that boy,” You giggle and nod. Happy to see him back in his joking mood.

“Arthur… You know I love you, don’t you?” God, those words make him shiver. Make his heart rattle in his chest. Could swear his insides turn about 3 times. So sweet, you look at him, hands on his thighs, leaning into his side. He opens his arm for you to tuck into, grabbing your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, I do. Love you more,” he can feel heat flush up his neck and cheeks but he doesn’t care if he looks like a lovesick idiot. Your joy is worth it. The wind blows your hair over your shoulder, you let him sweep it back some more. Your pretty laugh when he bows over to lay you down on the grass makes him chuckle.

-

He’s finally found it. Montana Ford. A shallow spot in the river he discovered, looking for a short cut trying to cross from New Austin into West Elizabeth. He hated riding through the Del Lobo populated Thieves Landing, especially after they were catching on that it was Dutch and his boys robbed their stash two weeks ago. He sighed and then he veered off the road, looking for somewhere to cross. And the shaded river was perfect.

He stays there a moment, looking at the pretty grass growing alongside the water, the light glittering over the surface. The sound of the river rushing by fills his head pleasantly. You’d love it, you’d toss your boots aside and wade into the river, lifting your skirts high enough to hopefully not get wet. But you’d be wet anyway. He’d do it too, you made him feel like he was twenty despite his thirty some years on this earth.

He decides to sit and sketch it and write about you. Just how excited he was at how everything was coming together. He feels like a kid, sappy but too devoted to care very much at the small heart he puts on his map. He’s almost embarrassed of himself. Even with no one to see. He folds his map up and stuffs his journal away, whistling his horse over. With a soft word or two, he mounts up and continues on to his destination.

-

It's been three days since he found the spot he would take you to and he’s had a ring in his satchel that glares up at him every time he opens it to pull out a cigarette. Of course, just as everything comes together, Dutch insists he go scouting for some new venture, looking to follow a treasure hunter so they could rob him. It ends up being a whole lot of nothing from a bad tip but Dutch has a ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ speech to try and lick his own wounds at Arthur’s expense. Arthur rolls his eyes. Feels his hands knot into fists.

“Maybe next time, it’ll be you runnin’ all over New Austin on some wild goose chase! And I’ll give you this bullshit. Wouldn’t that be just fine, wasting your goddamn time-”

“Arthur, calm down! I don’t have time for your complaining. Where is that girl of yours? Why don’t you blow some of that steam off with her? It’s obvious to me-”

“Dutch…stop pushing the boy,” Hosea remarks from where he’s reading a book nearby. Arthur postures to continue arguing and Dutch shoots a glare before waving him off. He looks to Hosea and backs away, huffing. But before he can go for a smoke to hopefully calm himself down so he could be with you, Hosea calls him over.

“So… have you popped the question?”

“No, I ain’t got time most days,” He sighs in defeat, dropping his weight on the seat next to him, resting on his knees, leaned over. He takes his hat off to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He hadn’t seen you in another two days on account of this stupid ploy to rob a treasure hunter who didn’t know left from right and east from west. What an idiot. But not nearly as foolish as he.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Dutch to leave you out of these plots of his. I’ll even tell Miss Grimshaw that she’ll be gone. Take her and ride away for a couple of days. I hope to see a ring on her finger when you get back. In fact, I’ll be expecting it!” Hosea has a smile on his face, the excitement is genuine. Arthur nods.

“And what if she says no?”

“Well you keep at it. Perhaps a little persistence is all you need but why do you insist on imagining the worst?” It’s as if after asking, he considers why Arthur might not want to change things irreparably, might have already put his heart on the line and had it thrown away before.

“Arthur, the sting of rejection must be pretty…pretty lamentable. But you wouldn’t be trying this hard if you really thought you didn’t have a good chance,” Hosea sets his book down. “Go get some rest… leave first thing in the morning,” Hosea pats Arthur lightly on his shoulder. Arthur looks up as Hosea wanders in the direction of his tent.

His heart does yearn to see you at his side, wearing his ring on your finger. To hear you referred to as Mrs. Morgan. But all he can see is an incredulous look on your face. ‘Marry? Me? Arthur, you must be joking,’ you laugh and laugh. You’d never be so cruel but whatever part of him hates his own guts imagines the scenarios with great fervor. The anger from the rest of his day and the anger at himself grit against each other. He growls low before marching off to his tent.

You’re already inside, looking very lovely, one of his mended shirts serving as something of a robe to wear over your underthings. You look up and smile. He could forget the whole world just by looking at you. You hum, scooting over in bed.

“Arthur…” the way you call his name, you hardly need to give him any pet names, just Arthur will do.

“Come out with me tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” He states. More like a command, the residual anger drips off his words. You look at him strangely.

“Alright but I’d like to know what all of this is about first,” You set whatever you were working on, perhaps brushing your hair as you set a horsehair brush aside. You give him a concerned look.

“Found that surprise,” he grumbles, sitting down and tugging his boots off. “Hope you’ll like it but…” he stops to tug his gun belt off, his suspenders too. Arthur rests his hat gently on the side table. “Can’t be too sure til I show it to ya,” You smile softly.

“I think if you think I like it, I’ll love it,” God, he hopes so. Anticipation bounces around in his head and in his lungs. He’s practically short of breath. How he’s going to sleep, he has no idea.

“Yeah?” you hum in agreement. Looking sleepy, he’s endeared by how your eyes blink slowly, how you wiggle onto his chest the second he lays down. Your hands rub down his chest and belly. You’re asleep in a matter of minutes. He almost wishes he had you for company still but he’d never wake you for something so selfish. Instead, he pets down your hair and listens to your breathing, the natural hush that covers the camp once it’s too late for much of anything but small chatter.

-

Like clockwork, he wakes early. He can’t remember falling asleep but you're softly murmuring, you won’t wake unless he expressly wakes you. He gives himself time to put on that shirt he bought and rub his hand over his face at how nervous and silly he feels buttoning it up. He pulls a jacket over it to hopefully hide how ridiculous he looks. The morning is a pale blue when he steps out, thinking to bring you coffee to wake you.

You dress, half asleep, when he comes back to you, humming into the cup he brought you. You wear something nice but not overstated. You put kisses on him to wish him a good morning after you’ve decided you’re cleaned up enough.

He helps you up on his horse, Boadicea already very used to you. The ride isn’t too bad and you certainly make it better, he’s quiet with nerves, responding as much as he can without getting lost in his thoughts. The sun has climbed up and blazed down on you for a while by the time you get there. But your face when you see his surprise is too precious, eager to slip off the back of his horse.

“Arthur, it’s so beautiful!” The summer sun is high in the sky, perfect for your plans as you tug your boots off. He ambles after you, hitching his horse to a tree. You’re already sighing and knee deep in the center of the river. Your stockings lay haphazardly tossed over your boots. You’re some fabled creature, come from somewhere else. He could see it. No woman shined like you did, at least not how he saw things.

Just like he imagined, he rolls his pants up and tosses his boots aside, the spurs jingle when they hit the ground. The light catches the river’s surface, shades of yellow and green, the earth's gentle brown. You’re excited to see him join you, taking his hand that he holds out to you, pressed to his belly and chest, just where you belong.

“You like it, sweetheart?” He mumbles, really fishing for compliments. He knows you do but he’d love to hear you say it.

“I love it, Arthur, how could you say I wouldn’t? Sometimes, you’re a silly man,” you laugh, sway with him in the river. Birds sing, the water is cool, it’s perfect. He pulls you up to a shallower part of the ford, the sun forms a halo around you, reminds him you’re pure heaven and he couldn’t let you go.

“I have something else for you,” his voice is shaky instead of the easy confidence he likes to portray himself as. You look up excitedly but the dazzling smile slips off your face, you're shocked as he pulls a ring from his satchel and kneels down in the river.

“I-uhhh…I-“ he had really planned all of this and didn’t think of a single word to say. He can't bear to look up, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. “I haven’t loved…anyone like I love you,” the ring looks tiny and pathetic in his fingers. They’re also calloused to hell but he continues anyway. “There ain’t anyone else for me in this world but you. I just wish I was a better man, you deserve more than I can give but… if you would have me,” he looks up and your hands cover your mouth and tears leak over your fingers.

He really had ruined everything, hadn’t he? How was he supposed to go on living with you? What would he tell Hosea? His face falls and his heart cracks but he’d be glad to take you back home and disappear for a few days.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, don’t know what I thought,”

“Arthur, just please…” you hold out your left hand. You wipe your tears, trying to compose yourself and when he sees your smile, your hand over your right cheek, he lets himself ease. “Nothing would make me happier than to be- to be your wife, Arthur, you are…you’re the best man I know,” you wiggle your fingers excitedly and he slips the ring over your ring finger. He stays stunned, kneeled in the water, his pants soaking it all up but he couldn’t care less.

The ring looks so perfect on you. He holds your hand, kissing it like a knight of old, looking at him down on his knee, still crying but that brightness in your eyes is all he needs. Your giggle makes him smile at you too. And you drop to embrace him, tucking into his chest, arms around his neck. You murmur his name, rub his back. Tangle your fingers in his hair. He settles with you, surrounded by your unmistakable presence, basking in it. Holds you tighter, trying to not squeeze the air out of you. He breathes you in, holding you through your overwhelmed clinging, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

You pull back a little, enough to kiss him, his relief is groaned into your mouth. He loses track of himself and slips, sitting in a river with you in his arms, giggling more into his kiss.

You sit with him on the banks, trying to dry out after he tipped over. So much for his fancy shirt. He thinks the both of you will look half drowned by the time he brings you back to camp but he isn’t sure he wants to go back. Just you and him for a few days sounds rather enticing. You keep looking at your ring, leaned into his shoulder. A pleased little smile blooms over your face. How can he not smile at how beautiful you look, hair wet at the ends, warm light casting its glow over you.

You look up at him, with a look that says you’re gonna cry again but you just give him a teary smile.

“I’m a lucky bastard, get to call you mine,” You wrap one tiny hand over his neck when you kiss him slow and deep, letting him consume the very air in your lungs, grip over your body to feel it. You moan just softly enough to pull on his need for you. But you part ways for you to continue.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” you give him a sad frown. As if upset that he would think such a thing of you. You brush your fingers against his skin. He looks away.

“You wouldn’t have been the first,” you sigh.

“Who could say no to Arthur Morgan?” You ask no one in particular but he huffs a small laugh.

“Many people,” a joking tone tinges his words. But then he dips towards the sentimental. “Don’t even remember, really, all I think about is you, darlin’…” You laugh before coming closer, unable and unwilling to part from him. He knows he’s a hundred and one percent sap but he lets himself melt in your presence.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” you wiggle your left hand in his face. He chuckles a little at your cute little fingers. “I’m glad…it means I get you all to myself,” The joy is boundless in his chest, he could light the night like a lightning bug with the flame in his heart.

“Arthur, I… I… sometimes I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you,” you lean onto him. He shakes his head with what he’s sure looks like a stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t sure this would be in the cards for him but here he is, with you.

“Every part of me loves you, honey,” is all he has to say, paling in comparison to the pure power of your own words over him. They tumble clumsily from his mouth but you pull him down for kisses anyway. Your teasing ‘do you?’ has him nodding between your giggles and wet kisses.

-

Thank you so much for leaving me this request, I loved writing it!! It was so much fun and I really had fun including some parts of rdr1 map that were really special to me and brought me back to when I was a kid playing that game 🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️ any feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading 🥰🫶

[comesatimecomesashadow]

Hey hey! Could i request a shadow x college student who took him in and try’s to encourage him to be more outgoing/friendly with the others? I keep thinking about how cute it would be to sorta babysit the whole bunch for Maddie and Tom, and Shadow get roped into the friendship. He deserves the best support system☹️❤️!!

tonight, tonight *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ shadow the hedgehog x reader [can be read as platonic or romantic]

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot, reverse-comfort

cw *ೃ༄ nothing !

summary *ೃ༄ you help shadow come out of his shell.

note *ೃ༄ sorry this took so long anon! i've been busy these past couple weeks.. | I had fun writing this especially after watching sonic 3, he deserves the world !!!

masterlist *ೃ༄

   Being a college student was no easy feat. Assignments and deadlines filled up your time and often left you feeling burnt out, but you always managed to pull through. If there was anything you’d learned from being at school for this long, it was that you couldn’t give up because you’d always make it in the end anyway. It was just the process of getting there that you hated. 

   Shadow was about the only one who could allow you to escape the stressful confines of your dorm. You had met him on one of your nightly walks to de-stress after the hectic events of the day. Hour-long lectures and energy drinks for breakfast weren’t exactly the most desirable position to be in. As you were planning out your week, calculating how much time each assignment needed and what instructions were given, you bumped into an unfamiliar creature : A Hedgehog. 

   It struck you as a peculiar happenstance, given that he was on college grounds. He didn’t seem like he was a student. Of course, you could have just ignored him and went on with your night, but something in you wouldn’t let you. Since that day, the two of you have been inseparable. You weren’t exactly startled by his existence given that before you met him, Tom and Maddie asked you to ‘babysit’ Sonic and the others while they went out. Though your schedule was a bit stressful because of your college work, you always accepted. 

   And now, since Shadow had become part of your life, he sometimes tagged along when you went over to the Wachowski residence. Sonic, Knuckles and Tails behaved fairly well for the most part (you were thankful for that), but there was always one thing that nagged at you : your black and red quilled hedgehog friend who always seemed to be off in his own world despite being in the same room as the others. 

   Shadow had told you about his past after about a year of staying with you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to feel isolated when everyone else was having fun. You weren’t exactly the best at comfort, but you couldn’t just leave him like that. So you decided to address it before heading over there.

   Shadow was munching on a handful of coffee beans when you entered the kitchen. You were dressed casually and ready to go out. “Shadow,” you spoke as you turned on the stove to boil a bit of water for a cup of coffee. 

   “What is it?” His eyes drifted to you, he was sitting at the small kitchen table. Your apartment wasn’t big but it was something at least. Shadow was grateful. 

   “Do you want a cup of coffee?” You asked while you leaned on the counter, your arms crossed. You weren’t sure how to approach it, you couldn’t exactly just tell him to socialize. In your experience, that never worked on you so it definitely wouldn’t work on him. So how..? 

   “Yes, I’d appreciate that.” Shadow nodded and kept eating away at his coffee beans. You’d gotten used to his short answers but sometimes, they weren’t the best for serious conversations like these. 

   “Are you going to come with me to Maddie’s?” you inquired, your voice a little softer than usual. 

   Shadow nodded, “Yes, I will be accompanying you tonight. Someone has got to keep those dimwits in check.” You chuckled at his insults and a small smile tugged at your lips. The time wasn't right, it felt too abrupt to just bring it up out of nowhere. So you made a note to bring it up later, at the right moment. After a cup of coffee with your hedgehog companion, the two of you were off to the Wachowski household. 

   The afternoon was calm. It was accompanied with the soft caresses of the wind and the warm beams of sunlight. You knocked on the door and waited for an answer, continuing your conversation with Shadow until Maddie answered the door. 

   “You’re right on time, come on in!” Maddie greeted, opening the door to let the two of you in. You thanked her and greeted the ever-energetic hedgehog who whizzed up in front of you in a matter of seconds. 

   “We’ll be back around ten-thirty, alright?” Tom told you. You nodded, “Yep, I promise to keep everyone on their best behavior.” The couple smiled in acknowledgement and told Sonic and the others the usual ‘behave or you’re grounded’ spiel before disappearing into one of Sonic’s rings. 

   “You guys wanna have a movie marathon or board games?” you asked the four of them, Shadow was still at your side with his arms crossed. 

   “How about, Board games first n’ then a movie marathon?” Sonic suggested, his hands on his hips. 

   “That sounds great!” Tails chimed in, “Agreed.” added Knuckles. 

   Sonic went to go get the board games out of the cabinet while everyone else cleared the table, Shadow was quiet as always. “You’re joining right?” 

   “Do you want me to?” Shadow helped you carry some cups to the sink. 

   You nudged him, “I’m asking what you want.” 

   He pondered for a moment. “I am unfamiliar with the games.” He didn’t seem sad about it but a little ..lost? This did not deter you though. 

   “I’ll teach you, I promise it’ll be fun.” you beamed. 

   “.. Are you sure?” Shadow asked, avoiding eye contact. It was a thing he did when he was uncertain of something. But you only nodded and guided his gaze back to you. You knew he was unsure about how the others would react to his participation. 

   “I’m more than sure.” 

   After the table was cleared, there was a mountain of games at the side of the table; Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and you sat at the surrounding edges of the table, seated on the couch. “Since Shadow’s joining this time,” You began as you reached for the deck of cards on the table. “I was thinking we could play uno first, how's that?” 

   “Shadow’s joining?” Sonic asked with a surprised look on his face, “This’ll be fun.” Shadow only huffed and crossed his arms. Shadow only acted as if the blue hedgehogs remarks meant nothing because on the inside, he was grateful that they weren’t opposed to having him in the game.

   “I look forward to winning against all of you,” said Knuckles while donning a determined expression.

   “That’s ambitious.” said Shadow, “Dream on!” chimed Tails. Everyone seemed pumped and the environment felt warm. You were glad to see Shadow stepping out of his comfort zone. You split the cards while you explained the rules of the game to Shadow as well as the purpose of the different cards. Shadow listened intently and admired your expertise at card-shuffling. 

   “Alright, everyone count if you’ve got seven cards.” you said as you looked through your cards. 

   “Are we betting anything?” Sonic asked playfully. 

   “No, we are not betting anything, this is a game not gambling.” You rolled your eyes, “Plus, I'm a broke college student — the most I can give is like ten bucks.” Sonic and the others laughed at your half-joke. You reached for the deck and turned a card over, a six and the color blue present on the card. 

   After a long round of rock, paper, scissors, it was decided that Tails would start first and it would go clockwise. The game, despite being a practice round, went on for quite a long time — Though that was to be expected, given that it was the five of you who were playing. Tails ended up winning and the night went on smoothly. 

   Shadow was quite competitive and he ended up winning the two rounds afterwards, much to Sonic’s dismay. You were happy to see this side of Shadow, he seldom went out of his way to interact with others. It was your influence on him and your encouraging nature that allowed him to step out of his comfort. 

   It was about eight in the evening when Shadow was helping you make snacks for the movie marathon. Sonic, Tails and Knuckles were bickering over which movie to watch but you didn’t pay much mind to it. “You were great at Uno, I was surprised. It was your first time right?” You mashed the avocados with the mortar and pestle; Everyone had agreed on guacamole as the snack of the night. 

   Shadow nodded in response to your question, “I’m a quick learner, the game was relatively simple.” 

   Shadow added the minced tomatoes into the avocado mix. “I’m proud of you, y’know.” you spoke quietly but your words were warm. It was an exchange just between the two of you. Shadow began chopping up the cilantro as you spoke. “I know it isn’t easy, but I’m proud of you.” 

   His chopping slowed, “.. I’m not a social being, But..” He inhaled slowly before sighing. “Your efforts in encouraging me to engage with others were helpful.” You smiled at his words and listened earnestly, mixing in the ingredients he poured. “Playing board games with everyone today.. It reminded me of Maria.” 

   Your smile was one of understanding as you gazed down at the black hedgehog. He was reserved most of the time, but today he did something he wasn’t usually comfortable with. Your warm nature helped him creep out of his shell and enjoy himself. It helped him remember the lost moments with the person he held dearest to his heart. 

   “I remembered the joy I felt with her.. It was so easy then.” He spoke, a sorrowful smile on his lips. 

   “It might not be easy now, but it isn’t unreachable. Okay?” You washed your hands and dried them before bending down to give him a hug. He let go of the knife and accepted your warm hug. He closed his eyes before enclosing his own arms around you. Even though both of your lives were stressful, he had you and you had him. 

   No matter what, the two of you helped each other up when the other was down. The support you’d given him these past two years — he’d remember it and cherish it. 

   He decided then that he would do the same for you too.

[octo-hyacinth]

Hey! I recently stumbled across your work and have been absolutely hooked. Can I request Dorm Leaders’ reactions when fem!reader accidentally falls under a sleeping curse? The cure is true love’s kiss of course, but they’re either too dense or too anxious to know that:P

yes, ofc! i’ll only write up to vil cuz im not familiar enough with idia and malleus for the time being, but hopefully one day i can muster up the courage to write them haha

~~~~~

Dorm Leaders with an S/O Cursed to Sleep

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar,Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit Content Warnings: Tiny bit of angst (more like panic but the title is self-explanatory), yall can imagine the ending however u want im cutting it off at the kiss, mostly typed on phone so possible typos but its fine A/N: man it took me so long to get around to this and i'm so sorryyyy (*_ _)人 but i hope you enjoy!

"How could this possibly happen? Y/N is surrounded by students for a large portion their day, every day, and yet they are lying here, having been singled out and targeted by such a malevolent curse," Vil argued.

Leona leaned against the furthest wall, rolling his eyes. "Will ya shut your trap already? We get it, it's a bad situation, and it's real inconvenient." He scowled at your sleeping form, like maybe if he judged you enough, you'd wake up. "I almost wanna say they deserve this, for bein' so dense, but—"

"How could you say that?" Kalim cried, attempting to quickly wipe the tears streaking down his face. "They've been nothing but nice to all of us, but now they're d—"

"The prefect is not dead, simply... incapacitated for an indefinite amount of time," Azul replied smoothly, but if you looked closely, he seemed to be holding back a bit of his own worry from showing on his face. "I think—"

"No one asked you what you think, cephalo-punk—"

"QUIET, ALL OF YOU!" Riddle shouted, thoroughly irritated by the lack of progress in getting you to wake up. "Instead of sitting around complaining, we should be coming up with a solution."

They stood in silence for a few tense moments, before Vil softly spoke.

"I believe I've read about a similar situation happening with a princess long ago. She too was cursed into slumber, and the only way to wake her up was—"

"But-but that's impossible!" Riddle sputtered. "True love's kiss? Should we really be looking to a fairytale for our answers?"

"All stories are laced with truth, as they say," Azul thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Perhaps... we should try it, if we truly have no other options."

A heavy silence spread across the room as every leader contemplated this. Finally, someone spoke.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Riddle Rosehearts

Oh, dear, what a predicament.

Riddle’s a clever boy, so he knows exactly what needs to be done... he just doesn't exactly have the courage to do it.

I mean, true love’s kiss? Is that something he can even achieve? Is he worthy of kissing you awake, or will he fall short of needing to be your "true love"?

He has his worries, but he does his best to be rational, and just do the next logical step in achieving his goal.... in this case the goal being to save you from being stuck in an eternal slumber that possibly no one will be able to wake you from. No big deal.

He ordered everyone to clear out, as there was no way he could bring himself to kiss you in front of all those eyes. Much too embarrassing.

He approached the side of your bed, and stared at your gently closed eyes. You looked so peaceful— was this perhaps a much-needed break from running around campus every day? As much as he wanted to say you SHOULD be waking up to attend to what needed to be done, he was afraid of forcing you back to your tiresome waking reality. What if you got upset at him for bringing you back?

But he couldn't dwell on these questions when you were stuck under a curse. Everyone wanted you back. And Riddle missed you more than he'd like to admit. So he leaned over your resting frame, and with only a moment of hesitation, he pressed his lips gently to yours.

Leona Kingscholar

First off, what a hassle.

Most of him didn't even wanna be here, arguing with the other dorm losers, but he couldn't bring himself to just ditch you when you needed help.

Once Schoenheit mentioned true love's kiss being the only option available to wake you up, he scoffed and almost left right then, ready to let someone else deal with that. But then he had a thought.

What if he was the one that you needed that kiss from?

The more he thought about it, the more possessive he was getting over you. He didn't want any of these other idiots kissing you, cuz you were his. He was the one that truly wanted you, and you felt the same way, of course. Right?

He got flashbacks to all the times you defended him, like during his overblot, when you simply refused to let him destroy himself when he was at his lowest.

And then, right there, he made up his mind. He wasn't gonna let any of these guys claim you first, so he pushed his way through from the wall, slipped his hand underneath your head, and kissed you with all the passion he'd been holding back since he met you.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was incredibly good at holding up a façade of confidence, even if he didn’t always feel that way. But upon realizing the fact that the only way to wake you was through a true love’s kiss, well, it made him more nervous than he expected to be

At first, he tried to approach it like he would any other situation. How can he turn this in his favor? How can he maximize his own gain from this situation? How can he take control?

But the more he thought about it, the more a certain sense of dread overcame him. He started to realize that this was not a situation he could take control of. There was only one option; to kiss you, or let someone else do it. No cheating, no manipulation, and there’s nothing else he could gain or lose. That was the only variable.

But now that he really thought about that… was kissing you really such a bad option? Or was it something he desired deep in the pits of his own soul, under all the indifferent, confident, businesslike masks he used on the regular?

The more he thought, the more his feelings for you started to claw its way towards the surface of his consciousness. And once those feelings broke through the tumultuous waves of all his suppressed emotions and made itself known, it hit him like a brick.

He cared for you. Deeper than he’d ever ventured back in the Coral Sea, deeper than he could’ve imagined. And then he felt something akin to possessiveness, almost. Not quite so aggressive as it, but he realized how badly he wanted to be the one to kiss you. Not any of the others, because then he’d have to face up to the possibility that he wasn’t your true love.

But then, even if he WAS the first one to kiss you, would you even wake up?

He really, really hoped you would.

Finally, after being stuck in his thoughts for what felt like an eternity, he decided to act.

In his most confident, self-assured voice, he asked the others to step out of the room, and only after Leona made a mocking gesture at him before closing the door, did Azul let out a big sigh.

Now alone, with his feelings free to take over, he inched towards the side of your bed, all the while keeping his eyes on your serene face before delicately sitting down on the edge.

Slowly, he took off one glove to gently hold the side of your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. And as he studied how peaceful you were, and felt how soft your skin was upon your beautiful face, he felt a sense of calm wash over him like a beach at high tide. All of his nervousness about kissing you was dispelled. Because like this, he felt as if you were his rock during a torrential hurricane. You felt like the safety of his octopot whenever he was afraid. He cared for you so much, he could never be scared of you.

So if this was what had to be done to wake you, to bring back your smile and laughter and all the joy you brought to his life, he would kiss you without a moment’s hesitation.

And so he did, and it was as gentle as the rocking seaweed sways under the sea, but filled with enough love to create an ocean.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s so, so terrified that you won’t be able to wake up from this curse

Almost leaves to go get Jamil over here to figure out a way to wake you up, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave you!

If Vil said that a kiss would be the way to wake you up, does that mean they’d all have to take turns kissing you? But he wanted to be the one that counted as true love!

I mean, he always showered you with gifts that you said were “too expensive” or something, and he always shared Jamil’s cooking with you, which of course you both thought was delicious. He does so much for you because he loves you! You’re his favorite person, and he regularly told you so, and how he wanted to bring you home to his family over school break, and that he was positive that his parents would approve of you!

And with how much he showed his love for you, how could he be anything but your true love!

Wait, he had to focus at the problem at hand. You needed a kiss to wake up, and he was totally willing to give you a lil kiss (you didn’t even have to be cursed to get one from him, he’s just that affectionate)

He tried really hard to push back the nervousness by thinking happy thoughts, like how excited he’d be once you woke up and then he could give you all his affection again and have Jamil cook up a feast to celebrate your waking, and he could get a bunch of fancy animals too, and invite the whole school so everyone could be happy that the curse was gone!

Dang, he wasn’t very good at focusing on the problem in front of him. Anyway.

If kissing you was all he had to do, he was willing to give it a shot! So he volunteered out loud, and without waiting for anyone to respond or even leave, he rushed over to your bedside, and combed his fingers through your hair before accidentally smashing his lips against yours a bit too hard. Oopsie. He was just overexcited, just looking forward to seeing your happy smile again!

Vil Schoenheit

Likely approaching this problem the most rationally, closely tied with Riddle.

In the story, the fabled princess was kissed awake by a wandering, random prince who just happened to be enraptured by her sleeping beauty, and he just happened to be her true love. But how lucky would you be, to have your true love be someone in this room?

Truth be told, he was hoping with all his heart that this was his chance to be the prince, the protagonist in the story, the one who ‘gets the girl’, as those ancient stories would put it. Going his whole life playing the role of the villain, he just wanted this one chance to be your prince.

Of course, you deserved nothing less than the fairest one this world had to offer, and Vil would say he was the fairest of them all, and that you deserved him, but more than anything, he just wanted to to able to deserve you.

He didn’t overthink the situation much. He was never one to succumb to nerves or panic or anxiety. He knew what had to be done, and he knew what he wanted to do. So he strode up to you without giving the other housewardens even a passing glance, gently cupped your face, and kissed you as lovingly and as elegantly as only the best prince could.

[marshmallowdarling]

Hi, I saw that you had open requests and I wanted to ask a Yan! Batfam HC:

How would a platonic Yandere! Batfam react to a foster sister who, well, doesn't grow very tall?

All the family memebers of the Batfam are, to least to say, giants. Even the shortes one is quite tall than the avarage height. (All of them, except the child version of Damian, are between 5'5 and 6'2 feet tall. )

But what would happen if his adopted little sister, who eats well, lives a healthy life, has no signs of illness and so on, becomes short in height? She is simply no taller than 5 feet and that's it. All of them grew up well! why you were the exception?

Would they worry that their little sister wouldn't grow up no matter how hard they tried, or would they be happy to have a "pocket edition" little sister?

Thank you so much for requesting Bub and I hope you like it!! I'm so sorry it took so long, I started writing this immediately but I felt like it was too short and I just said fuck it today and wanted to post no matter how short (thought I added a bit more) Also I turned this into GN reader because in the end there was only like two things indicating (Y/N)'s gender and I wanted to appeal to everyone, I'm so sorry if you strictly wanted female reader!! (tbh I wasn't reading it properly when I was editing this oop-)

And I hear what your saying!!! What an amazing idea to imagine,

~Mwah

I don’t want to keep the height strictly 5 foot just for the x reader element, I never want to force one body type into my writings (except for chubby) just because I want everyone to feel included and one body’s deformed shortness will be different to another. 

But yes!! 

I head canon that all the bat-boys have little snacks that they keep, some not as nutritional as others, but they all end up having more healthy snacks on them because of little ol’ you.

Sandwiches with whatever spread you like, more perishable sandwiches are only brought at short distances not missions (if so, they are bought fresh), cut up fruit, fruit snacks, the jelly beans you find at pharmacies with the red and white cross on the bag, bottles of water and little cartons of juice of whatever flavour you might prefer that day (trust me, Alfred always somehow knows what flavour you’re going to like that day). 

I feel like they would all worry about your short height to an extent, Bruce being the worry wart, constantly getting you checked out every two weeks, making sure you take vitamin gummies (because let’s face it, they’re better than pills and I will NOT take pills).

Second to ol’ Brucey is Jason, he died- and he probably freaks the FUCK out when you keep growing but you don’t show any signs of getting taller. At first, he keeps assuring himself that you’ll grow.

“They’re just a late bloomer”

“May- Maybe Their just short!” 

“Why arn’t they growin- Oh my god is (Y/N) dying?! I told that old man to kidnap them earlier!” 

Oh, Jason definitely watches you when you sleep (like the rest of them) and furrows his brows, trying to figure out an answer to why you’re so small.

The rest of them do have lingering thoughts but they can see Bruce dragging you to the doctors every other week and they make sure your on top of your meals and medicine so they don’t really outwardly do anything else. Tim definitely does poke at your height as a joke, but it does help his delusion of you needing him, like the rest of the fam. All of the boys definately try to 'secretly" show of their strength around you so you rely on them more, though you figured this out quickly and it's somewhat amusing to see them show off their muscles like a peacock.

If you do feel bad about how you look the rest of them will shoot Tim down immediately and praise you up and down. Some of the other more silent boys might do this in a more discreet way but rest be assured your getting the floor you walk on kissed. They might even let you have very light work outs! (Without any equipment) though it usually turns into you sitting on their backs to help them with their push ups or holding their feet so they can send you a compliment or tease as they come up from a sit up.

Foster! Reader is fed a lot- Full plates at every meal, breakfast, lunch and dinner is ate and there is a strict ‘NO SKIPPING’ policy. Even if it’s just a few bites, even just one, your ass better eat and after a fit from you because you watched your siblings skip their meals without any harassment or scolding, the rest of the family now has the same rule as you (much to Bruce’s chagrin after trying to make his kids have a normal eating schedule since forever.) 

Overall they would just be a bit more strict with eating rules and making sure you feel good in your body, but other than that mostly the same.

Aww your just a little thing, you wouldnt survive in the real world cub. Hu? What do you mean "the doctor says I'm healthy and fit?", you might be but your still oh so small and you need your family to protect you! Can't you see how weak you are compared to our big beefy bodies? You don't have to worry your cute little head about it though! Your boys will always be here to take care of you.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

could you write Mando/Din x reader bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go?

congrats on 5k :) I love your writing and your OCs

This was proof you needed better gloves. The ones you had were fine for metal work, but the precise nature of wiring couldn't be done with such a bulky set.

Your fingers were still numb, but the throbbing in your hand served as a reminder they wouldn't stay that way for long. Small blessings, still the open cut and small burns were nothing to sneeze at.

"Kriff," you grumbled, giving yourself a second to lean against the wall of the ship. Obviously you needed to get this taken care of, but the pain was still to immediate. There was no way you were climbing up the ladder until you got your head on straight.

"Everything okay down there," Din called from the cockpit.

"Yeah. Can you just throw me down the med pack?"

There was a small shuffle above you. Carefully you rose to your feet, readying yourself to catch the bag with your one good hand. It didn't make any different as, instead, Din came climbing down.

"Dank farrik," he swore, his head turning to your hand. "What happened?"

You shrugged. "Bad wiring."

There really wasn't much more to say and neither of you were one for unnecessary conversation.

He guided you back to a sitting position before pulling out a bacta patch and some other bandages.

"Let me see," he said, offering a gloved hand to you.

You suppressed the warm feeling that bloomed inside you at the gesture. This wasn't necessarily new. You and Din had traveled together long enough for you to know his instinct was to help. All the same, the reminder was enough to send your heart pounding.

Wordlessly, you extended your injured hand, allowing him to examine it. Rough leather brushed against your skin. In an instant, your skin felt like it was burning as a shock of pain shot straight up your arm.

You pulled away with a small yelp, the pressure of tears forming in your eyes.

"Shit!" you gasped, forcing steady breaths back into you.

"Are you okay?" Din asked, concern lacing his tone.

You managed a nod. "Yeah, just more sensitive than I thought."

He nodded in understanding, before doing something you never thought you'd see. He took off his gloves.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

"They're irritating your skin," he said, simply. "I'll be able to work faster this way."

You couldn't think of a counter argument. It was that line of thinking that got you into this mess in the first place.

Your eye became focus on his hands. You had only gotten glimpses of his skin before as it peaked out between his wrist and glove, but never so openly.

"Is this allowed?" you asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Of course, it means we have to get married."

"What?!"

A short laugh came for behind his helmet. You honestly didn't know whether to laugh yourself or smack him.

"Ha, ha, very funny buckethead," you said dryly.

He only chuckled, extending his now naked hand towards you.

Whatever awkward tension that might have lingered vanished with the sound. You placed your injured hand in his and felt only the slighted sting at his touch. You only hoped he blamed your quickened pulse on the pain.

Din made quick work of the rest, applying the bacta patch before carefully wrapping your hand like he had been doing it his whole life. In truth, he probably had.

"How does it feel?" he asked, tying off the last of the gauze.

"Still stings," you admitted, "but, not as bad as before."

"Good."

If he was going to leave, now would be the perfect time. You waited for it, mentally preparing yourself for the loss of his hand on yours. Still, he lingered, allowing his fingers to brush against the bare skin of your wrist.

The tilt of his helmet wasn't on you. He seemed just as preoccupied with your hand as you were with his. How could a man like him still have so gentle a touch?

"Din?"

He looked up at you and you found yourself wishing once more you could see his face, just to give you some glimpse into what he was thinking.

"You need new gloves," he said, stiffly. "We don't want this happening again."

"Can't argue with that," you answered, not really knowing what else to say. On the one hand, yes, the idea of burning yourself wasn't one you look forward to. On the other, under what other circumstance would he touch you like this?

A pause came, holding itself in the air between you. There was the urge to say something, but for the life of you, nothing came to mind. All you wanted was to stay.

Din ended up making the decision for you as he rose to his feet, finally pulling away. He grabbed his gloves and in the next moment was up the ladder and out of sight.

You let out a deep breath, falling against the wall of the ship.

Now what the hell were you going to do?

(16/20)

[ashwhowrites]

can you do robin x f!reader and basically reader is dating robin in secret (cause its the 1980s, duh homophobes) but readers cheer caption so she’s pretty popular so theres new rumors like every week that shes dating someone new. and during a game robin saw jason wink at reader and after robin and reader get home robin gets all mad and starts arguing with her but reader says “i dont want anyone else, nobody can make me feel the way you do” (wink wink promt 30;))) then they do the yk 😇😇 so basically angst to smut. this idea has been on my mind all DAYYY and cheer has been kicking my ass and your writing has been basically like my coffee recently. sorry if its too long xx💗💗

Absolutely!!!

Thank you so much, I am so happy to hear I can get you through some hard days. Hopefully, this is what you wanted and will get you through some more days!!

Y/N and Robin have been together for around a year at this point. Y/N fell right at Robin's feet the second she met her at Scoops ahoy. Her bright eyes, dark short hair, and gorgeous smile. She practically melted into her own ice cream cone. Slight flirting went back and forth. Both were not sure if the other one was gay, but when Y/N overheard Robin telling Steve that she had a wet dream about her, she got her answer. Y/N made the move, and the rest was history.

Robin knew dating the head cheerleader in secret would have its moments. And hearing rumours every single week about who her girlfriend is dating next was not helping. She heard the locker room gossip. Girls are jealous that Y/N yet again got asked on a date by a guy they liked. Robin was jealous too, just for a different reason.

She always tried to remind herself that Y/N was hers and hers only. But the sting of people getting to freely hit on her girlfriend would forever leave a mark. She hated that she had to act like a best friend.

She felt jealousy fill her when Jason asked her if Y/N was single. She so badly wanted to scream at him that she was taken, and she was, in fact, taken by her.

"She is, but she is not looking for anything." She said it with a tight smile. She hated the way Jason's smile stayed on his face.

"We'll see about that."

~~

Robin felt like throwing her instrument in Jason's smug face. His eyes followed her girlfriend's every move during her routine. She could almost see him undressing her with his eyes. She hated that she couldn't say something. She just had to watch silently.

Robin felt herself blush when she looked back towards Y/N to see her already staring at her, a huge smile on her lips as she waved. Jason may have been looking at her, but Y/N's eyes never left Robin's body.

~~

The clock was running out, and the team was just a few points behind. The crowd was on its feet as Jason ribbled the ball, running towards the hoop. As he held the ball, he looked over at Y/N, and with a wink, he threw the ball into the net. A loud buzzer rang through the crowd. The only thing Robin could hear was the pulsing of her heart.

~~

The gym was clearing out; Robin stayed behind, waiting for Y/N to pack up her belongings. After every game, they go get food and have a sleepover. And after the day she had of Jason eye fucking her girlfriend, she felt like she needed time alone with her.

As Y/N headed Robin's way with a huge smile on her face, she was stopped by Jason. Robin felt her eyes roll.

"Hey Y/N, your routine looked great; did you make that yourself?" Jason smirked as he looked at her up and down.

Y/N awkwardly giggled, but to Robin, it sounded like a flirty giggle.

"Um, yes. Being the captain and all, I made the rounties. Thank you though." She went to walk around him when he reached his hand out.

Robin felt her skin burn seeing Jason's skin touch hers.

Y/N was quick to shrug off his touch. "Yes?" she asked.

"Would you like to go out on a date? Celebrate the big win?" He asked with a wink and a huge, gull-toothed smile.

She turned him down with a sweet smile and hug.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally made it to Robin.

~~

Y/N noticed Robin was quiet all throughout dinner. She didn't laugh at her jokes; she didn't rub her foot underneath the table. She didn't want to bring it up in public, so she waited until they made it back to Y/N's house.

"Hey baby, everything alright?" Y/N asked softly as she sat very close to Robin. She went to touch her hand, but Robin put it in her lap.

"Nothing, just, you know, the usual guys flirting with my girlfriend. The basketball captain was chatting you up, and you just giggled away, soaking it all up." Robin huffed as she crossed her arms.

"Rob, first of all, I wasn't soaking it up and giggling. I was uncomfortable, and you know how I feel in those situations. And who cares about those rumors? It's not like they are even close to being true."

"Or are they? Let's look at the facts here. You are popular, a cheerleader, and run with a whole different crowd. I don't know what you do at parties or who you go home with. or if you even make it home. For all I know, you could totally be with anyone!" Robin feels like she shouldn't jump the gun, but her anger was running with the bullets.

"Robin, are you excusing me from cheating on you? Like full-on cheating on my goddamn girlfriend? Do you not trust me at all?" Y/N was hurt. She devoted every spare moment to Robin. She hated it more than anything because she couldn't show her off to the world like other couples could. But hearing Robin say that she thinks she has been cheating on her hurts more than anything.

"Yes, I am! because we can never work. It would be so much easier for you to be with a guy like Jason. Someone your parents would approve of, someone you could kiss in the hallways and dance with at prom.Someone with whom you could go on actual dates Someone you can tell people about, and someone you can love." Her anger was fleeing. The insecurity was painting her face. Y/N could easily read her. For the moment, she decided to leave the anger to the side and focus on the deeper issue at hand.

"Robin, look at me." Y/N said as she sat in Robin's lap, her arms wrapping around Robin. Robin's eyes looked into hers, unshed tears waiting to cross the line.

"I don't want someone like Jason. I want someone like you. I don't care what my parents think. I'd have prom in my bedroom just to dance with you. I like our secret kisses in the bathroom. I like our dates in the forest and Steve's basement. I like getting to show you off to the people who love us. You are someone I can love; you are the person I love." Robin's tears were now falling in small hiccups as she tried to remain silent. Y/N leaned her forehead against Robin's and placed a small kiss on her lips.

"Show me, show me you love me." Robin exclaimed as Y/N's lips moved around her neck. Robin's hands slid up Y/N's back, fingers trailing underneath her top. She unhooked her bra, and Y/N pulled away to remove her shirt. Robin quickly followed. Chest to chest, Robin's lips attached themselves to Y/N's neck. trailing marks near her collarbone.

~~

Robin was gasping as much air into her lungs as she could. Y/N sucked at Robin's clit and sunk her fingers deep into her wet cunt as she lay between Robin's thighs. Robin had her head thrown back and her hands gripping Y/N's hair tight. She lifted her hips, practically riding her face as she chased out her orgasm.

Y/N soaked out every part of Robin's orgasm before she pulled away. As she looked up at Robin's fucked-up eyes, wild air, chest heaving up and down quickly, and hard nipples, she licked her fingers clean. A light layer of sweat coated her skin.

Y/N walked over to her closet and pulled out her strap. She walked towards Robin and handed it over.

"I don't want anyone else; nobody can make me feel the way you do. So why don't you show me who I belong to? Why don't you put that on and let me ride you?" Robin did not need to be told twice. She was strapping on the strap as fast as she could. Her eyes shone with need and desire.

Robin felt a moan leave her lips when Y/N climbed on her lap, lined her soaked pussy with the toy, and sank down on it. Y/N moaned as she was filled and threw her head back.

"Fuck me, Rob." She whined as she started bouncing on the toy. Robin wrapped her arm around Y/N's body and began to thrust up as fast and hard as she could. Her lips caught Y/N's nipples bristly, and she yanked them with her teeth.

Y/N leaned her forehead on Robin's, their thrusts meeting in sync. Robin smashed her lips against Y/N's with as much control as she could. Y/N tried to keep up, but the feeling of the toy cock hitting her so hard that she could barely move her mouth

Her jaw went slack as she felt her orgasm approaching. Her mouth hung open as Robin breathed into her.

"Cum for me, baby." "Cum on my cock." Y/N whined at Robin's words, and her orgasm hit hard. She was shaking and wheezing as she came down from her high.

"I'll love you forever, Robin."

Tags

@michaelfuckinglangdon

[vrmxlho]

bruh i posted my fucking hcs while i was in middle of writing them 😕 anyway here it is copied and pasted:

omg aiku is so fucking ajfsdkhjbf every time i see him i go feral,,,, ALSO YES MORE PEOPLE NEED TO READ GOKURAKUGAI THE ART IS BEAUTIFUL +++ i'm pretty sure this is gonna be ooc because i'm really just making shit up so i apologise in advance lmaoo +++ also im sorry its so short i have no idea what to write 😭

cw: swearing + not proofread because who wants to relive this nightmare??? + probably really ooc but this is my blog so i will do as i please honestly 😒 + suggestive but nothing sexual

LEONARDO LUNA レオナルド・ルナ

his love language is either physical touch or giving gifts

he absolutely adores holding you and he always physically on you, either an arm over your shoulder or a hand on your knee, sometimes he even makes you put your legs on his simply because he likes it that way

but at the same time he is 100% the most infuriating person alive and he prides himself in being annoying

at least he's funny ig

he's constantly teasing you, flirting with you excessively

if he hadn't already told everyone in his life that you were his s/o people would've still been able to guess as much

he's like an annoying puppy who always follows you around asking you to play

he's also incredibly petty, like if you ignore him by mistake or leave him on read because the conversation had ended he's purposefully going to do the same to you

even if the subject of the conversation is actually quite important

nothing can get in the way of his pettiness

"leo, can you please fucking answer me???" he only looked at you briefly before continuing with his stupid hair. it had only been like this for about five minutes but you honestly felt like it had been a century. he was being so fucking annoying. "leonardo luna i swear to god, if you don't fucking answer me this instant i'm going to bash your head in." "i'd still be really attractive though, so i don't really-" "will you please stay on topic for once in your life?" "annoying isn't it?" "THE CONVERSATION HAD ENDED YOU SAID 'OK' AND THAT WAS THE END WHAT ELSE WAS THERE TO ADD????" "you can always add an 'i love you'." "boy. be fucking for real."

forgot to mention that he's also rlly vain

by that i mean he pretends to be vain

he pretend to care about his looks more than he actually does because he thinks its funny

it is sometimes

i am a firm believer that he was one of those kids that was fascinated by the ocean and just any type of water body

he wanted to pursue geography and maybe be a marine biologist before he became a football pro

that's why is his ideal date is renting a boat and going to sea caves to scuba dive in

he insisted on the two of you taking scuba diving lessons together because he wanted to swim with sharks and sea turtles

i feel like he was a summer baby, specifically a leo

because my irl best friend is a leo leonardo

he's also the type to collect shells and make shell necklaces for you

once tried convincing you to change your name to sally and start a seashell business because he thought it would be really funny???

concerning

he's naturally funny but at times he says the dumbest things unironically

his favourite way to destress is to have long bubble baths with you while you both chatter about your day

not necessarily in a sexual way

he just enjoys being physically close to you while also being surrounded by water

leonardo luna was exhausted. you could tell as soon as he entered the house. his usually bright and blindingly positive aura had dulled. his eyes looked distant and he walked with a sway. fatigue made his limbs heavy and he hummed softly before he collapsed on the sofa. "are you okay? leo?" he had already begun snoring slightly when you finally reached him. you chuckled a bit. you wouldn't mind leaving him like this. he looked so cute. his silky hair falling gently on his nose and his cheeks a bit red from the slight chill in the air. but he smelled. reeked of sweat. he must've been too tired to even shower after practice. you weren't about to let him sleep in his sweat, it was simply gross. so first, you tried pulling him off. but not only was he a massive man who weighed a lot more than the usual groceries you carried. he was also resisting making it even harder for you make him budge. so you kissed his forehead, hoping it would wake him up. nothing. this time you pinched him. which worked, because now he was stirring. he opened his eyes which burned with anger and frowned at you. "come have a shower with me." suddenly his eyes were wide and bright again. he basically jumped off the sofa and carried you to the bathroom. he was tired but he didn't mind the extra exhaustion that would come from carrying another human being, since it was you. as soon as you got to the bathroom he basically ripped your clothes off and you were in the shower giving him a massage. then washing his hair and running your hand over his back soothingly. he didn't look tired anymore, it seemed like your presence had woken him up. or perhaps he just didn't want to miss out on your touch. "how was practise?" "couldn't stop thinking about you."

his kisses are always hot and passionate

loves holding your face when he kisses you

as if its the last time he will

he loves how his hands are big enough to hold your entire cheek

your first kiss wasn't awkward at all except for the fact that it was in front of the paparazzi because he loves PDA

unless you genuinely hate it he's always holding your hand in front of the cameras, kissing you, full on making out and everything

is a failure in the kitchen but is surprisingly good at following instructions

you'll never have to cut an onion when he's around!!

real men cry 👍

OLIVER AIKU 愛空

you've made it

you are now dating the hottest man on earth, the biggest playboy in the world has settled down

cuz you're just as hot

but that's exactly what makes him so possessive and jealous

it's not that he doesn't trust you he's just a little insecure, why else do you think he always broke up with his previous flings?

he's scared that if you got to see him for who he really was (as if you haven't already ☠️)

however, whenever he sees you talking to someone he doesn't particularly like he'll come up beside you and pull you close to him by the waist

and if you look uncomfortable he'll literally take you to another setting so you feel better

his love language is words of affirmation!!

he loves hearing how much you love him and how much you wanna spend time with him and how you'd kill for him

but at the same time he absolutely loves teasing you and making you get all flustered

oliver had been feeling down. he didn't really know why. it was 3am and he had this deep pit of despair in his stomach. you looked so peaceful on the bed, sleeping softly and scrunching the blanket up a bit. "how can someone so perfect want to be with me?" "if you're going to be so depressing i might actually break up with you..." you had turned around to stare at him with your tired barely open eyes. you weren't a light sleeper per se but your deep connection to aiku meant that you could feel something was off even if you couldn't see if with your own eyes. "sorry, did i wake you?" he moved back into bed. pulling the sheets over you a bit. "you know i love you right? and i wouldn't even dream about leaving your or whatever you were worrying about." "but-" "no, shut the fuck up. it's late," you pulled his arms around your body and placed yourself right onto his chest, " and i'm cold, so do your job. warm up the bed."

bought you an emerald promise ring after the first date because he instantly fell in love with you and he's suddenly discovered that he was actually a big romantic

(emerald to represent his left eye, left being the side the body your heart is in)

as a playboy, the first date was all a ploy to impress you but also give the impression that he wasn't available so breaking things off or ghosting you wouldn't be a hassle

he took you to a fancy restaurant

for once he wasn't two timing you

anyway after all this he took you to the beach to go on a walk where he asked you if you wanted to go skinny dipping

it was his first challenge, if yes, it would be fun, if no, then he had a reason to break things off with you

but the look of indifference you gave him made him crave more

he could already feel his cheeks heating up and from that day onwards he couldn't stop thinking about you like at all

after you got into an actual relationship you both avoid going back to that restaurant because of just how dull that night was

now your dates consist of going to the arcade, doing some karaoke and then maybe watching a movie while living off of buttery popcorn

he honestly has such a beautiful singing voice

would definitely be an idol if he weren't a footballer

he's a huge ABBA fan i can feel it in my soul

his ideal date is having a picnic by the beach and then playing beach volley until you both decide it's too hot and go for a swim

honestly any summer activity would be his ideal date

oliver aiku was probably breaking countless laws right now. it was the end of summer, the nights were short but warm with the skies clear, starry and gorgeous. aiku wanted to celebrate by firing his homemade fireworks he had spent about 2 months making. and you were certain that this was illegal. but he didn't care. "oli- i don't think this is safe..." "don't worry about it, i'm here to protect you." you could almost hear the smirk he was wearing. "you're no lawyer, i won't be breaking the law with you." "oh you're no fun." he looked at you with fake disappointment. frankly, if you weren't in a good mood you would've just left him to his frolicsomeness but you were also sort of intrigued. you really wanted to see what two months of firework building could get you. "make sure we don't get caught." "i'm no amateur love."

likes pulling your hair when kissing

and he's not one to give one quick kiss and run, they need to be deep every single time

pecks on the lips are meaningless in his eyes

he's also one to engage in PDA

he absolutely loves kissing in front of people he dislikes

to sort of one-up them

kisses you all the fucking time for absolutely no reason

you'd think the novelty would have worn off after being kissed so much but it really doesn't

somehow he keeps getting better at kissing

is he practicing behind your back????? (no, i'm jking)

[ohallthecrushes]

Peter/001 growing obsession over you // Headcanons

A/N: This supposed to be shorter, I only wanted to see if I can write for him and...ah yes, I can. ^.^ My first headcanon about him.

Warnings: obsession and stalking 👀 Peter just can't stay away from you.

The first time he put his eyes on you, he was only merely curious about you. He didn't suspect that you would keep his attention, his full attention, for long. He thought that you'd turn out to be like the rest of them.

You see his hope for meeting someone he would like, someone lovely, understanding and caring had been pushed deep down his mind years ago. He found hope useless, he found it irritating and painful. He'd rather lived without it. But hope didn't disappear completely, Peter just barely noticed its presence anymore.

So he only thought about you with curiosity at first.

What were you doing in Hawkins Lab? What was your role here? Where you come from? What was your name? Did you choose to be here or were you prisoner like him?

He was watching you from distance, trying to find the answers to his questions. And the longer he was observing you, the more curious about you he became.

He started gathering information about you, like even the smallest details. And he kept everything he knew about you in his memory for a later use.

The way you gesticulated, the way you moved, the way you smiled at children even when they weren't so nice towards you. Your schedule, your routines, your habits, likes, dislikes... the smell of your perfume when you were passing by. Your beautiful eyes meeting his. Your rosy cheeks when he sent you a smile.

He was observing you like you were his own little mouse in the lab. He was creating a profile of you along with creating problems for you to solve. He simply was using his intelligent to come up with an experiment and set it up to see your reaction, to see if you could figure it out on you own.

It was still, not much more than killing the time in the lab.

Or at least that what he was telling himself.

But the way you occupied his mind even when he was resting, eating or keeping an eye on children... He couldn't ignore the fact that you attracted him strongly and it became harder and harder for him to keep himself away from you.

It irritated him that he could only do as much as he was allowed to. Interacting with you only when Papa or guards didn't see it, keeping any conversations short and brief. Not interrupting you with his constant presence...

He was limited and he hated this.

He wanted to test you, to understand you on a deeper level, to know what hid behind your eyes. Your secret thoughts, your dreams, desires, biggest fears, the reason behind every tear you shed, every scar you had.

He soon found himself in never-ending daydreaming abut you and what he could do to you.

His obsession grew strong and fast to the point that you noticed his intense stare and you felt disturbed by it. It was like he was stalking you and not being very discreet about it.

The plan to steal you from the lab so he could have you only to himself appeared in his head quickly and he decided to accomplish it without any hesitation.

He was determined to say the least.

The more time you spent in the lab, the more uneasy you felt. The whole experience wasn't what you'd thought it'd be and you often felt stressed and overused.

"Too much work and not enough play" as Peter said.

To be honest, he was the only person who understood you and brought you comfort when you needed it.

He seemed to genuine care about your well-being and he tried to cheer you up when you were sad. He was there to hear you out and give you advice. He was always telling you what you wanted to hear and he put up a protective shield around you.

With this kind of behavior it was easy to forget the creepiness and hidden reasons behind it.

Such a sweet and caring boy, wasn't he? He was just a little weird, you told to yourself.

You began to like him and trust him enough to reveal more personal stuff about your life and expectation you had from this lab-job.

And with that he could start a phase two.

[dual1pa]

innocent

content warnings: friends to lovers, teasing one another, smut, bj, taking care of a wound, swearing (18+ READERS ONLY)

steve harrington x reader (with use of she/her pronouns)

have a fic idea and want me to write it? i'd be happy to!

steve hisses as she presses antibacterial lotion on his wound since he refuses to go to the doctor. he has her.

while they were in the upside down, steve was attacked by vicious bat-like creatures. she was still unsure what the hell they were and really didn't want to come in contact with them again. luckily, she made it out with a few bites, nothing too serious. steve, on the other hand, got hit hard.

"i think they took a pound of flesh," he said.

she felt useless when it came to steve's pain. she wishes there was a way she could eliminate it and heal the wound with magic powers. steve meant so much to her, that it would actually kill her if she lost him. she loved him.

however, they were just friends.

"how does it feel?" she lightly rubbed along the freshly placed bandage.

"stings, but i'll be fine. thank you for helping me out, you don't have to."

"steve, i want to. i want to be here with you," she got off his bed and went into the attached bathroom to wash off her hands.

"wanna stay and watch a movie? rented back to the future part 2. thought it would be fun for us to watch."

"sure thing, stevie," she dried her hands with a towel and found herself lying next to him. he still had his shirt off and she couldn't help but stare. he had a beautiful body, perfect muscles and a chest for days. his right hand rests on his stomach, trying not to disturb the healing process of his bite. all she wanted to do was curl up into his body and fall asleep. she bit her lip, her mind switching to lustful thoughts, wondering just below those pants.

she erases the thoughts and asked if she could borrow pajamas. when he said yes, she took her time in his closet, touching all his clothes. he could easily see her from the bed. she didn't know he was watching in awe, happy that she loves wearing his clothes.

to be a bit cheeky, she took off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and put on one of his shirts. she slipped off her shorts and panties so her ass was on full display. she slipped on his plaid pants and walked back into the room.

if he wasn't comfortable, surely he would have said something.

she noticed his stare and mentally high-fived herself for her scandalous behaivour.

"uh, i'm gonna go shower real quick," he quickly gets up and shuts the shower door.

maybe he was uncomfortable, now she was feeling on edge that he upset him with her actions. she sat on the bed, biting her nails, she heard the water turn off as she went to knock on the door.

"steve?"

"yeah, honey?"

honey.

"can i open the door real fast? i want to talk to you about something."

he opened the door, greeting her with him just in a towel.

"is everything ok? was the closet thing too much? i don't know what i was think-"

"what? no no," he interrupted, "what you did was fine. do you wanna hear the honest answer why had to shower?"

she nodded.

"it was because i had a raging boner, seeing you take your shirt off was one thing, but your bare ass? i couldn't take it," he laughed.

"you know," she said, closing the bathroom door behind her, "i would have taken care of your situation if you had just asked nicely," she sunk down to her knees, feeling a bit playful.

she licked a stripe up his stomach, kissing his belly button. her hands paced up and down his legs to tease him. she made sure not to hurt his wound.

he watched her moves and grew slightly impatient, he needed her... bad.

she kissed his hard length over the white towel before letting it fall to the ground. he was bigger than she imagined, which she loved. she took him into her hand and began pumping him. his head leaned back and his arms went into his freshly clean hair.

"fuck, i've wanted this for so long," he said.

"so did i, were we both just oblivious to each other's feelings i guess," she said before taking him in her mouth.

he stuttered with his next sentence, letting pleasure take over his mind. she took him as far in her mouth as she could. when he felt himself reach the back of her throat, he let out a long groan. she grabbed onto his butt as she bobbed on his cock. he grabbed a fist full of her hair and guided her the way he liked. she watched as he came undone above her. when he came, his eyes clamped shut and his cock twitched in her mouth as his seed filled her mouth. and she swallowed his whole load, and made sure he knew it.

"if i knew you gave head like that, i would have asked you out a long time ago, now it's my turn," he reached down to pick her up and carried her to his bed.

[ynscrazylife]

Jessss can I pls request a sort of angst fic but like one of the ‘how the avengers would react to...” lists with it being R being like a young avenger but like they get affected by some kinda chemical or weapon or something on a mission and is really sick and no one knows how they can help them bc it’s like alien tech or something that did it? I just think it’d hit a spot in my heart rn and there’s never anyone better to ask than youuuuuu bc you literally know the character’s so well everything always hits lmao

Sick Days 

Summary: The Avengers get worried after you get mysteriously sick from alien tech.

Author: You said a fic but you also said a “How the Avengers would react to” list so I wasn’t sure what to write, so I went with a fic. If this is not what you wanted, please let me know!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me firstand b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

Being an Inhuman has never really been a problem for you before. It gave you some pretty cool powers and allowed you to join the Avengers team during the five year blip. S.W.O.R.D. had gotten word of when you accidentally activated your powers and, since they were still dealing with half of their agency being dusted, asked Natasha Romanoff if she could take the lead on this one and check it out. She found you, a young teenager at the time, frightened and confused. After realizing that you were an Inhuman, with Captain Marvel’s help, she explained to you what happened. It turned out - you had nowhere else to go, so Natasha ended up taking you in. She had a soft spot for you.

Long story short, once you got a little bit older, Natasha began training you in combat and allowed you to join the team. Once the blip was over and everyone returned, you met the others and were officially declared an Avenger. Despite being the only not-fully-human-person on the team (Thor had gone to the Guardians), you fit in perfectly. Everything was going smoothly.

That was . . . Until patrol one day. Where things took a turn.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You had been patrolling the streets of New York City for a little while now when the voice of Natasha chirped in your ear. Excited, you said, “Hey! Can I finish patrol early? There’s nothing really going on.” As much as you loved patrol, wintertime was nearing and you couldn’t exactly wear a coat with your suit, so you were getting rather cold.

Instead of a positive answer like you had hoped, Natasha chuckled. “Not just yet, kid. We actually just got a tip off from the NYPD. A break-in was reported at a nearby storage unit and none of their patrol cars are close. You’re actually the closest to the situation, it’s only two blocks away. Think you can check it out?” She asked.

Your desire for warmth was overshadowed by your curiosity and more-pressing desire to actually do something. “Who would break into a storage unit?” You asked, confused.

“That’s what you’re about to figure out. It’s two blocks to the east,” Natasha said.

“Alright. I’ll see you afterwards, then,” you replied.

With that, you turned to your right and began walking. Unfortunately, being Inhuman did not grant you super-speed powers. Instead, you had light powers.

You got there in no time. On the outside, everything looked fine. If you were just walking down the street and passing by (which a couple of people were), you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But you were no ordinary civilian. You managed to sneak inside and used your light powers to make yourself invisible. It was a large floor, with lots of storage units, but it was also quiet, so you took your time inspecting each and everyone.

Reaching the other side of the floor, you were about to report that it must have been a false alarm or something as you couldn’t find anything, when you rounded the corner only to spot a masked man lurking around an open storage unit. Spotting the broken lock on the floor, you knew that this had to be your guy.

Still invisible, you quietly sneaked up beside him, preparing yourself to show yourself and give the guy a chance to surrender, but wanting to stop him from being able to escape, too. Just as you inched close so you were right behind him, the man suddenly turned around and blasted you with the weapon he was holding.

This took you completely by surprise - there was no way for him to have known that you were there! You were flung into the air and hit the wall of another storage unit, before falling to the floor. “Hey!” You yelled as your invisibility disappeared and you struggled to sit up. The wind had been knocked out of you and your head was throbbing, but if there was anything to know about you, it was that you were relentless.

The guy broke off into a run, leaving the rest of the storage unit behind. You stumbled to your feet, trying to follow him, when a combined wave of dizziness and nausea pushed you against the wall. Your vision swarmed and your arms wrapped around your stomach, as you suddenly felt horrible. More sick than you had ever been in your life.

Whatever that guy had blasted you with - it had done something. Something bad.

As much as you tried to fight it, your body sank until you were curled up on the ground. Beads of sweat laced your forehead but you shivered at the same time. You had just the amount of strength to be able to press on your comms. “I need help,” you said, but it came out as a croak. “The guy surprised me. Blasted me with something. Please-”

You weren’t able to get anything else out as you fainted, your body succumbing to the attack of exhaustion, pain, and sickness.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Natasha heard your plea, the feeling of panic crashed into her. “Y/N?” She said when you stopped talking, already typing away at her computer to track your location. When she only heard static, she pursed her lips, frustrated. “Y/N, c’mon!”

“What’s going on?” Clint asked, poking his head into the living room as he had been walking by.

After finding your location and reading your stats provided by your suit, Natasha glanced up at Clint. Despite the hardened, blank look on her face, Clint could tell she was worried by the way she pinched her eyebrows and the frown tugging her lips down. He patiently waited for her to answer, his face growing solemn and more serious.

“Something happened to Y/N on patrol. You need to gather the team. I’m going to go get them,” Natasha said, rising from her seat and going to leave without another word.

As she passed him, Clint gently grabbed her arm. “I’m sure no matter what happened, the kid will be okay,” he said, wanting to provide some comfort. He shared her worry - heck, everyone would, they all adored you - but was able to be more calm about it. A skill he had developed as a dad to four children.

Natasha forced a smile. “I hope so,” she said, and gave her best friend’s hand a small squeeze before leaving to suit up. She couldn’t afford to waste any time.

When she left, Clint had F.R.I.D.A.Y call the team down to the living room. It took a couple minutes, as they were all in various parts of the building, but eventually everyone was gathered. Clint refused to tell anyone the purpose of this impromptu meeting until everyone was there, which was a little frustrating for people.

(People as in Tony)

“Will you just tell us already, Legolas?!” The billionaire exclaimed, as he and the others stood watching Clint pace back and forth, occasionally checking his phone in case Natasha had texted any update.

Finally, seeing Wanda and Vision walk in, who were the last to arrive, the archer explained. Shooting Tony a glare, he said, “Something happened to Y/N on patrol,” he repeated the words Natasha told him. “We’re not sure what, but Nat’s going to find out.”

Everyone’s faces softened. “Something happened? Like an injury?” Wanda inquired, frowning.

Clint glanced over at Natasha’s computer, which still displayed your stats. “Maybe . . .” he trailed off, his eyes catching something on the screen. “Wait - it looks like they’re sick or something. See? Y/N has a high fever.” The rest crowded around him.

As they all watched the screen, Bruce said, “I’ll go get the medical bay set up. Dr. Cho should still be here,” before briskly exiting the room.

“Y/N displayed no signs of illness this morning. In fact, they seemed to be quite well and excited for patrol,” Vision noted.

“They did say they were blasted with something,” Clint murmured, trying to connect the dots.

His phone’s ringtone interrupted the team and Clint scrambled to answer the call. Seeing that it was Natasha, he put it on speakerphone for everyone to hear.

“Y/N’s sick. It’s bad. They’ve already thrown up on our way back and I’m carrying them,” Natasha rushed out almost as soon as Clint accepted the call. They could all hear her controlled breaths as she was walking as quickly as she could.

“Bruce has gone to get med set up for when you arrive,” Steve said.

Remembering how you sounded on comms, Clint asked, “Is Y/N conscious?”

“They’ve been slipping in and out for now. They were passed out when I found them,” Natasha answered.

The team exchanged looks of worry. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” Tony tried to answer confidently, but his concern overshadowed his tone a bit.

Minutes later Natasha had burst into the tower, you still in her arms. She made a beeline for medical and the rest of the team were hot on her heels. As Natasha had said, you were definitely awake, but unaware of your surroundings nor the state you were in. You were still sweating and shivering profusely and would occasionally mumble something incomprehensible or let out small whines of pain. It broke everyone’s hearts to see you like this - if not for the pressing danger, they weren’t sure they could stand it.

Once at medical, Natasha gently laid you down on a bed where Dr. Cho quickly got to work. The Avengers were allowed to stay in the room (they surely would have put up a fit if not), but needed to stay back so Dr. Cho could work. They all watched as she hooked you up to monitors and assessed you. 

“Y/N’s defiantly gotten very sick quite quickly,” Dr. Cho confirmed as she worked. 

“It must be that damn blast,” Natasha muttered. “We need to figure out what that was.”

“I can get the storage unit’s company to send us the security cam footage,” Tony offered, but didn’t wait for a response before dashing out. 

“Can someone get some cool compresses? We need to bring their temperature down, it’s dangerously high,” Dr. Cho requested as she set up an IV. 

Sam and Wanda immediately complied, rushing to get the compresses. They returned and draped them on your forehead, neck, arms, anywhere they could. Up close, they could see how pale and fragile you really were, eyes half-closed. It was scary. 

“I’ve given them an IV with fluids and medicine,” Dr. Cho said, letting out a huff. “That and cool compresses is all we can really do for now except to continue monitoring them.” With a gesture of her hand, the Avengers all flocked around you, drawing up chairs to sit. No one wanted to leave your side. “Let me know if their condition changes.” Dr. Cho smiled sweetly at them before leaving and letting them have some privacy. 

No one said anything for a little while, stewing in their concern as they watched you. You had fallen asleep, but it didn’t seem restful, with your pinched eyebrows and scrunched up nose. Wanda continued to dab your forehead with the compass while Steve and Sam would occasionally go to get more. 

After some time, you woke up a bit and let out a whine. “What is it, hon?” Wanda asked softly.

“It’s cold . . . Can I have a blanket?” you croaked, voice hoarse. You squirmed a bit, pouting. 

“I’m sorry, darling, you can’t. We need to get your fever down,” Natasha explained. 

Tears at how awful you felt came to your eyes. You curled up on the bed. “Please . . .” you said. 

This shattered everyone. Natasha frowned, gently petting your hair. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. 

You moaned before letting out a few coughs that shook your entire body. Clint went to grab you a glass of water while Steve glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t the IV and meds have kicked in by now?” He whispered. 

Clint helped you drink some small sips of the water while Vision answered, “yes, it should’ve.” 

Everyone looked around. “I’ll get Dr. Cho,” Sam decided, keeping his voice low so as to not disturb you. 

A couple minutes later, he came back with the doctor in tow. You were still curled up, looking miserable. “Hi, Y/N,” Dr. Cho said. “How are you feeling?” She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but still wanted to ask. 

“Hot and cold at the same time . . . My head, throat, and stomach hurts,” you said, voice so small that the others had to strain to understand you. 

Dr. Cho nodded and looked over the monitors, frowning. “The meds should have kicked in by now,” she muttered. 

Everyone felt defeated and even more worried. What the hell had you been blasted with?! 

“Maybe a bath might help? My mom always had us take warm baths when Pietro or I got sick,” Wanda suggested. 

The rest nodded. At least it was something. “You feeling up for that?” Natasha cooed, seeing how tired you were. 

“I want to try,” you mumbled, trying to sit up. 

Natasha and Wanda helped you. They wrapped wrapped one of your arms around them and one of their arms around you, half-carrying, half-leading you to the bathroom. Clint followed behind to be able to open the door. 

You leaned against the wall, supported by Natasha, while Wanda started the bath and Clint returned to the rest. The redhead had to keep you from dozing off a few times which worried her a bit about leaving you alone. When the bath was ready, Natasha said, “We’ll check on you every ten minutes or so, okay?” 

You nodded, although it was a small nod so as to not aggravate your headache. Wanda and Natasha then left you alone, walking back to the medical bay. When they returned, they saw that Tony had come back, too. 

“Did you find anything?” Natasha asked anxiously as she and Wanda resumed their seats.

“There was nothing much the footage could tell us,” Tony admitted, standing in front of the team and Dr. Cho. “We saw Y/N using their powers to make themselves invisible, but it seemed like the guy who attacked them knew that or something because he turned around and blasted them while they were invisible. I’ve talked with S.H.I.E.L.D. about it - Fury says it might have something to do with Y/N being an inhuman.” 

This got everyone’s attention. You being an Inhuman had never interfered with anything before, so what was the problem now? “Fury had some of his agents look at the rest of the tech and stuff from the storage unit the guy had been lurking in. Apparently - it’s all tech that belongs to the Kree. It would make sense why it’s effecting Y/N, since the Kree sorta invented the Inhumans. He’s contacting Carol now to see if she might know anything about it,” Tony continued, and then grabbed a chair and sat down while everyone processed this. 

“Let’s hope she does,” Bruce said, receiving murmurs of agreement. 

They sat around until the ten minute mark hit, when Natasha went to check on you. She returned a couple minutes later, her arm wrapped around you. You looked quite sleepy, and the Avengers would of aw’ed if you weren’t so sick. Your hair was still damp but you were wearing Avengers-themed pajamas.

“They fell asleep in the bath,” Natasha told the team, before helping you get situated back in bed. 

Seeing as the sickness wouldn’t be contagious if it was indeed an Inhuman once, a couple of the Avengers gladly cuddled you, wanting to prove some comfort. Really, they all would’ve, if the bed had been big enough. Natasha and Wanda laid down on either side of you and Clint sat at the end of your bed. 

Natasha pet your hair while Wanda simply had her arms wrapped around you. Sam was waiting with a glass in his hand in case you got thirsty. When you dozed off for a little bit, Tony couldn’t help but snap a picture. “Sorry, they’re adorable,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all and shrugged.

After waiting with you, Carol drew everyone out of their thoughts by walking in. She was wearing her usual suit, but held a vial in her hands. 

Hearing her footsteps roused you and when you could make out the blonde, you smiled. “Carol!” You said, having missed her. 

Carol smiled warmly at you. If there was anyone who could break the space captain’s tough exterior, it was you. “Hey, little one,” she greeted. “Long time, no see. I’ve got something for you that will help.” She handed Natasha the vial. “It’s the cure to your sickness. The sickness was invented by the Kree to infect the Inhumans. From what I can gather, the guy was a Kree man who had a device on him that could detect Inhumans - that’s how he knew you were there.” 

“Interesting,” Steve mused, as Natasha handed you the vial. 

Not caring about how bad it might taste and just wanting to feel better, you gladly drank the entirety of the vial in just a couple gulps. 

“It’ll make you quite sleepy, but-” Carol cut herself off as your eyes quickly fluttered shut and you fell into a deep sleep, head falling against Natasha’s shoulders. “They’ll wake up in a few hours feeling better.” 

She turned around to grab a chair. “You’re staying?” Sam asked, as they watched her. 

“Of course,” Carol said, scoffing as she sat down. She looked at the Avengers. “What, is anyone planning on leaving?” 

They all smiled at each other as a series of “no���s” went around. They were more than happy to sit with you and comfort you. 

“That’s what I thought,” Carol said proudly, smiling. 

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[minimalist-language-learning]

How I read and enjoy books in my target language

Please note that I write about what works for me and share advice based on my own experiences. If you have a different opinion or if you use other methods, that's absolutely fine. Do whatever works for you.

Since some people asked me how I read books in my target languages, I would like to describe my way of reading in this post. I focus on reading for some time now and I'm very happy with my progress so far. This doesn't mean that I won't change a few things in the future (I'm constantly gaining experience and changing my learning style accordingly).

1. Choosing a book

Before I start reading, I have to choose an appropriate book, obviously. After trial and error I realized how important this step is. My ideal book is:

not too easy (I won't learn much)

not too difficult (if I can't follow at least the rough story I won't enjoy it)

interesting (motivation to read it)

I try to choose a book that is slightly above my level so that I can follow the story without looking up too many words but also learn new words. I don't need to understand everything, but I don't want to feel lost either. Balance is important.

2. Trying the first chapter

After choosing a book that seems to be appropriate, I try to read the first chapter (and sometimes the first two chapters, if they are short). I pay attention to things like:

Can I follow the story?

Is the story interesting?

Do I like the writing style?

If I can answer (most) questions like these with "yes", I continue reading the book.

Do I only understand single words or sentences here and there? Do I have no clue what happens? Then I put the book aside for now and choose an easier one. There's no shame in admitting that this book is too difficult at the moment. Deciding what I don't read is just as important as deciding what I read.

3. Reading

If the level of difficulty is okay, I start reading the book. In my experience, the first few chapters are always the hardest. I need time to get used to the writing style, the used vocabulary and the story. 

In the case of the japanese version of Harry Potter, the beginning was difficult because of the writing style. But after two chapters, I began to enjoy the story and so I continued. That's why I always try to read at least the first chapter. A book that seems difficult in the beginning can be very enjoyable once I've read enough pages. 

When I come across an interesting word or a sentence I like, I highlight it. I try to not highlight too much stuff, though. Two, maybe three words per page is usually my maximum. Enjoying the story is my number one priority. I can read several pages without highlighting anything, even though there are words I don't know. As long as I don't feel the strong urge to look up a word, I just continue reading. 

In many cases I can understand words from context and learn them over time just by seeing them again and again. That's why I don't look up words immediately. I wait to see if they come up more often.

After I finished one chapter, I look up all highlighted words and read the passages that contain these words a second time. This way, I can connect the meaning with the full context. I don't try to memorize the word; I just try to understand it in this particular context before I continue. 

Most of the time, I learn words unconsciously. If the book is easy enough, it's not so difficult to guess the meaning of certain words. While reading, I don't focus so much on words I don't know. I just focus on following the story. I may not always understand every detail, but as long as I can follow and enjoy the story, everything is fine. I learn so much by engaging with the language in a meaningful way and enjoying the content. Sometimes, I even forget that I am reading a book in a foreign language!

I have to add, that I'm already familiar with basic sentence patterns and that I have experience with reading books in my target languages. I finished the book "Remembering the Kanji" which makes it easier to guess the meaning of words. Knowing lots of kanji is a great advantage.

I have still a long way to go, of course, but this natural way of learning vocabulary may not work well at very early stages because you need a foundation first. After you are familiar with the dialogues and example sentences in your textbook, graded readers are a good choice in my opinion. Graded readers can make the transition from textbooks to easy books aimed at (young) native speakers easier.

Tip: One thing that helped me is to take a card, write down words I looked up and put this card into the book. When I read it a second time, I don't need to look them up again. Reading texts more than once can help to get more familiar with new words. Plus, writing helps me to remember words better. Reviewing them in their original context is much more enjoyable to me than reviewing them with flashcards. In the picture below you can see how my cards look like:

4. Enjoy!

I made enjoying books my number one priority. This is what helped me to make much more progress than before. All I need is enough reading material at the right level and a dictionary. As soon as I get absorbed in a book, I don't think about learning a language. I just want to enjoy the story. The more experience I gain, the better I become at understanding the language as a result. There's no need to force it or to hurry.

What I like about just enjoying a book and learning words naturally is that it's so simple. I don't necessarily need my computer, a certain software, add-ons, ... All I need is something I can read. After reading a chapter, I only look up a few words as I described above and that's it. Then, I often feel so motivated that I want to read more. I read much more than before because I enjoy it so much.

[camilaxmartin]

Hi!!! Can you do a Shuri imagine where Shuri is working too much and no one can get her to stop working except the reader and the reader calms her down with maybe a make out or (smut if you’re comfortable with that) but something along those lines :)

ღ overworking

hi! thank you so much for your request sun! (i wasn’t feeling totally comfortable with writing smut with shuri but maybe i’ll rewrite it one day) <3

navigation // request // me and find the rest!

summary: shuri is overworking herself and the reader finally makes her stop

warnings: making out, shuri calling you a princess (yes, that’s a warning😩)

notes: idk why she was so mean at the beginning but it just fitted right for me😭 it came out a bit too short for my liking but! i really enjoyed writing it. hope you like it!<3

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>•<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

shuri was spending all days in her lab. not that it was something utterly new, but as you moved in with her, she was trying not to work all day long and now something definitely changed.

you weren’t sure what to do.

probably she was doing something as important as the world’s matters and you didn’t wanna disturb her. on the other hand tho, you were starting to worry when she wasn’t leaving the lab to meet even with you. something was incredibly wrong. you knew that.

still not being sure if it’s worth it distracting her, you decided that if she won’t leave the lab till the end of the week, you’re gonna do something about it.

days flew by and shuri was nowhere to be seen, besides her lab. it was starting to really get onto your nerves. you understood that whatever she was currently working on was surely more important than anything, maybe even more than you, but it needed to end. it wasn’t normal for her to just stay in her lab and not speak to you for one and a half week now. not that you’re counting.

so the day came and you decided to take things into your own hands. you left your “shared” room (which for a good while felt like it belonged only to you) and swiftly sneaked to the elevator which was supposed to take you into the centre of your girlfriend’s lab. the doors opened and with one step you were inside. you tapped those funny buttons and felt the elevator going down. on the outside you looked perfectly fine maybe even a bit angry but on the inside you were just preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have with shuri for about a thousandth damn time. just as you put everything where it was supposed to be in your head, the doors opened again and you were greeted with the view of a huge silver room with a lot of people going from one place to another, definitely working on something important. great.

you entered the room and the elevator disappeared as quick as it appeared here, with you inside. knowing everything in lab better than your own hand, you made your way to the stand which belonged to shuri. at first you didn’t see her but not even a moment ago she came out from one of those doors which destination you still couldn’t really understand. she almost haven’t noticed you, almost.

“what is it, my love?” she asked going back to her work and not looking at you.

“you haven’t left the lab for almost two weeks now.” you stated coldly. you saw her quickly roll her eyes and you decided not to choose violence today so not call her out for it.

“i have so much work.” she answered, like every time the two of you were having this type of conversation.

“yes.” you said. “and i understand it’s probably the most important thing in your life, but you can’t put it before you.” you tried getting to her, while putting one of your hands on her shoulder.

“what are you talking about?” she asked as if she didn’t know. this time you rolled your eyes.

“i’m just saying that you need to rest. your work itself will improve when you let yourself relax for a bit.” you said starting to stroke her shoulder a little.

“i am taking care of myself my love, you don’t need to worry about it.” she said still working not even bothered to look at you for a single moment.

“as your girlfriend i’ll always worry about you.” you stated, and your grip tightened a bit. “and i’m saying you need to rest.”

“and i’m saying i’m not a child and know what’s good for me.” she argued, again rolling her eyes. it was almost your break point but you still remained not to explode. she was so sure she could take care of herself alone and that she wasn’t a child anymore but in this argument she literally acted like one.

“don’t roll your eyes at me.” you said and your jaw automatically clenches. “look at me when i’m saying something.” you added and shuri just shrugged her shoulders. oh, oh, there is goes.

“we’ve talked about this!” you raised your voice while also grabbing her chin and making her look at you. “don’t disrespect me like that.” you added a bit more quiet. shuri looked at you with one of hers annoyed but not surprised looks.

“you’re done?” she asked looking at you this time. you haven’t got any idea why she was acting so mean towards you but it definitely didn’t help the worry that was building up inside you.

“what’s wrong?” you asked feeling less and less confident with every moment. shuri rolled her eyes again but still hold your eyes with hers.

“everyone out!” she suddenly screamed, making you jolt your hand away from her. you have never seen workers in the lab move as fast as they did in that moment. when the last person left the room you and shuri where alone. something you’ve been quite missing for those almost two weeks. maybe not under circumstances like that but it was also something, right?

“happy now?” she asked looking at you without you helping her.

“no.” you responded.

“then what do you want?” she asked and you needed to hold back the tears that wanted to form in your eyes.

“you!” you screamed feeling at the edge. “some time with you, maybe some affection, a stupid little chat would do!” you started listing, feeling frustrated. shuri was looking at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

“i have work to do.” she said and wanted to turn around to her stand, in need to go back into overworking herself even more, but you stopped her by grabbing her shoulder once again.

“you. need. to. rest.” you said through clenched teeth and she laughed a little. she dared to laugh.

in all frustration and anger your hand again found her chin and directed it to your side, not letting her go this time. she wanted to say something, protest probably, but your grip wouldn’t let her.

“no more excuses.” you said and suddenly connected your lips with hers. it took her a bit by a surprise but shuri was fast to catch up.

she immediately wrapped her arms around your waits, while you wrapped yours around her neck. not letting her or her lips go, you started to walk back, shuri obviously, along with you. finally your back hit the huge glass of one of the windows and then you pulled away feeling your lungs burn. you looked at shuri who still had her eyes closed only to open them up when you didn’t kiss her again.

“if that’s your definition of resting, then hell yeah i needed it. and still do.” she whispered, her lips gently rubbing your own.

“partly.” you responded giving her a quick peck, which she thought would be something more. “you still need to rest, rest.” you added and she rolled her eyes at you but this time it wasn’t mean it was almost playful.

“if that’s what you want princess.” she said wanting to connect your lips again, but you didn’t let her by moving your head a little.

“that’s what you need.” you stated being more serious again. shuri licked her lips not believing how much you cared about her and her good being.

“fine, my love. i promise i’ll rest today.” she smiled and you couldn’t hide the smile that was crawling up on your face.

“maybe you will come sleep in our bed today?” you suggested and shuri knew better that to rejected an offer like that.

“whatever you say, my princess.” she said and kissed your cheek, even tho you wouldn’t have moved away from her this time.

“but right now, i’d much rather focus on your definition of resting.” she said with those specific glint in her eyes. she didn’t need to say it twice.

“whatever you say, my queen.” you responded which earned you a little blush from shuri.

you again connected your lips together being more rough this time. your hands found shuri’s curls and immediately wrapped themselves around them, pulling a little. shuri moaned at that feeling, and in that very moment you were glad you decided to come down to her lab today. her hands started to wonder a bit lower when they finally settled at the bottom of your butt, which was a sign for a you. getting that straight, you jumped a little and shuri hold you while you wrapped your legs around her waist. she then pulled away her head a bit, much to your disliking.

“why would you stop?” you asked, not realising how needy you sounded.

“i see you really missed me those couple of days.” she laughed almost breathlessly. you wanted to riposte something of course, but she wouldn’t let you. almost immediately she clashed her lips to yours again, taking away the ability to speak from you completely. not that you complained tho. shuri then still holing you in her arms, made her way out of the lab going straight to your shared room. i can just say, that waiting those almost two horribly long weeks was more that worth it.

[tmntxthings]

I am very curious about headcanons of what the Rise!boys would be like with a small Reader. By small I mean shorter than Mikey, only up to his chest. :3 I am imagining the Reader being easily flushed when it comes to their heights (might be a little selfconcious about it), but there could be some cute things, like them perching on Raph's shoulder? But also being teased about it, like Mikey, now not being the shortest, holding something over the Reader's head so they can't reach it? I thought it might be fun and wholesome. ^w^ (Also, thank you for your answer last time, you're so nice! I can't believe I was so nervous about writing you >///<)

The Smallest

author’s note: hiiiiii, i take wayyy too long with hc’s, sorry for the wait <333

warnings: nothing but fluff :D

—————————————————————————

Raph

Raph would be super worried around you at first. Him being so large and you so tiny, tinier than Mikey who was literally the size of one of Raph’s arms. Yes he felt really self-conscious, because the last thing he would want to do is hurt you.

So don’t be too upset if he doesn’t approach you at first, he just needs time, time to see that he won’t accidentally hurt you. Because not only is he bigger he’s also pointier. His spikes have ripped through so many of his clothes he’s just accepted it at this point. His clothing will always have tears.

He feels the most comfortable around you when he’s lower to the ground, sitting on the couch or on a bean bag chair in the common area. The two of you could practically be the same height during those times and he finds it endearing when you take those moments to shower him with attention! “Lookie here we’re eye level now!!” You teased, yes you made fun of yourself most of the time because otherwise Leo would beat you to it.

The more time that passed the more Raph would feel at ease, scooping you up in his arms was just natural for the two of you. You were so light, he could hold you for hours without strain! And you appreciated the new view, sitting on his shoulders was your absolute favorite though, feeling super tall! “Gosh Raph, this is what it’s like to be you huh?” and he laugh, “Yeah, how’s the weather?” He would joke and you’d smack the top of his head playfully.

“Ow okay okay!!” It didn’t hurt him at all, but he played along, smiling happily, he thought you were just the cutest. “Raphie wanna go play DDR?” He’d immediately turn from the ramp room, heading for the arcade. “Challenging the champ?” He’d say glancing up with a smirk. “The champ is about to go down!!”

It was a close match, Raph coming up short by just one point but he’d turn to you and see you jumping up and down with excitement. You couldn’t believe you had actually beat him!! You’d jump up into his arms and Raph just couldn’t sulk with defeat, not when you were celebrating like that. “Did you see that?!! I was on fire!!!”

“You dance like a boss!!” He’d beam, unable to stop himself from stealing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Raph!!” You squeaked, blushing furiously and he’d just pretend to be none the wiser. What did he do?? Kiss you?? When?? And he’d kiss your other cheek just as quickly, a big smug grin on his face.

Leo

He would definitely tease you the most. “Hey short stuff~” you’d never hear the end of your height. He wouldn’t stop unless it really bothered you. Some days you wouldn’t tolerate it and he’d shut his trap real quick, offering genuine apologies, going down dramatically to ask for your forgiveness.

But on most days it was fine, and he only teased because it was part of his love language. “Y/n, I can carry you on my shoulders too you know!” He’d definitely get jealous to see you having so much fun on his older brothers shoulders. He was taller than you so it’d still be fun, right?! Though Leo couldn’t hold up as long as Raph would, he’d definitely pick you up, twirl you around in a tight hug, before placing you back down on your feet.

“Someone said what??” He’d perk up at the thought of someone else teasing you for your height. “Want me to portal over to their house and scare them?” He’d ask mischievously. Would definitely want to have some words with this bully. Or an even worse thought, they were flirting with you?! Gah it almost made him gag, that type of flirting was reserved for Leo and Leo alone!

“No no, I think I will pay them a little visit, don’t worry I won’t scare them too bad.” Total lie, he’d make sure they wouldn’t mess with you ever again. “Lee, it’s fine, you tease me like that too!” You even pointed it out to him and he would glower, “well yeah but only I can do it, I don’t go as far as them either!” He’d convince you one way or another.

What he loved to do most was keep things out of your reach. “Hey Leo can I have some chips?” You’d ask coming up to where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, munching away. “Hmm these?” He hands them over only the stretch his arm up and away at the last second. This game of keep away would go on for a while. “Okay okay I promise, that was the last time,” he’d smile endearingly, offering you the bag for the thirteenth time.

Your eyes would narrow, slowly reaching out your hand then making a mad grab for it. Leo was too quick for you though, and he’d laugh at how you would groan and give up completely. “Awww c’mon shorty, here here, no more teasing,” and you’d snatch the bag from his hands still not trusting him to try and annoy the hell out of you. “You’re so lame!” Sticking your tongue out at him. You better run after that because the mischievous look in his eyes would tell you that he was going to prove you how not lame he was.

“Oh babe, me lame? Ohoho where are you running off to?! Come back here!!” He’d already have a plan at how to make you eat your words.

Donnie

Donnie would be the most unaffected by your height. Practically never brings it up! He would be protective of you, worry about the things lying around in his lab. Wondering if something was a hazard to someone at your stature.

“Wait wait Y/n, I’m not done with this project, and it’s dealing (insert crazy toxins that could be dangerous to humans/anybody without the right gear on)” Donnie would be in like a whole getup, opening his lab door only a smidge to be able to tell you, no you couldn’t come inside that day.

“But when are we gonna hang out??” You said trying to peer past his form to get a look at the cool dangerous stuff. Your interest in hanging out with him would definitely have Donnie ending his lab work for the day quickly, “I’ll be just a moment more!” He said hurriedly, closing the door as you took steps away.

About 15 minutes later you were leaning against the wall by his lab door, on your phone scrolling aimlessly, perking up when you’d hear a loud boom or crash from the lab. Then suddenly the door opened, Donnie fumbling to put up his goggles. “Greetings!” Donnie smirked after getting them to lay perfectly atop his head.

“Greetings mad scientist, how’s the toxins?” He started his stroll to the living room, sounding way more casual and less worried as you continued to follow him away from the lab, “hazardous as usual,” he shrugged. And you wondered if he was trying to get back into his bad boy persona.

“So the plan today?” you asked curious to see if he would remember. He took out his phone, “Hey!” and he started walking faster, “that’s cheating!!!” you whined, knowing he was going check the messages between the both of you. “Ah yes!” He turned back to give you a sly smile, “fly you around New York, how could I forget!” He mused entertained to see you grumbling.

“For a genius who can remember all of pi how can you forget something we just texted about yesterday?!” You pouted, wondering if he was acting like he forgot to keep up the persona or if he really was losing his memory. “You’ll have to forgive me it may be the side effects of the-“

“toxins” you finished and smacked your palm to your face. “Remind me why you are working with such dangerous chemicals again?” And it was Donnie’s turn to gasp. You blinked coming to stand next to him. He looked down at you with hurt eyes, one hand going to his chest. “Don’t you remember?”

And your eyebrows furrowed, “Y/n! You wound me, it was just yesterday when I told you the why’s and how’s and when’s!” His hand went up to cover his mouth in disbelief. “You’re messing with me! I don’t remember..” you had started strong but then you began to second guess yourself.

It was your turn to whip out your phone going to check the messages you and Donnie had sent yesterday. Which had been a lot. As you scrolled, eyes set in concentration, you missed the way Donnie’s face morphed into one of adoration. Snickering to himself at how serious you looked. His hand came to rest atop your head, leaning down to your ear, “gotcha~”

Mikey

Mikey would be a ball full of joy at not being the smallest anymore. And he’d be allllll over you, from the very beginning. “Oh-mi-gosh!! You are soooo adorable, hi I’m Mikey, and what’s your name cutie?” He’d be fawning over you 24/7

“Y/n, oh wow what a beautiful name! It suits you perfectly~” he honestly isn’t even trying to flirt, he’s just the sweetest person ever and a definite hype man/turtle! If you ever feel self conscious about your height he is there to tell you, “what?! Y/n trust, you are perfect the way you are, who doesn’t love fun-size!!” Seriously he’s always cheering you up and cheering you on

If you are ever nearby he’s swinging his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close and leaning over you. He likes to put his chin on top of your head and you can just feel when his face breaks into a big happy smile. If you grow even an inch he’ll notice, “cutie pie?! when did you start growing! you have to stop or else you’ll be taller than meeee!” He’s teasing of course

Mikey wouldn’t care if you suddenly had a growth spurt and shot past him, he’d just jump into your arms! “They’re not little, they’re fun-sized!” Out of all the terms for small you hate being called little the most, it always sounded so demeaning. Mikey would speak up for you, because this was a job for Dr. Delicate Touch! “And what’s so great about being an absolute giant lanky beanstalk anyways?!” He’d retort to your bully

You’d have to cart Mikey away, pulling at his arm for him to reluctantly follow you. “It’s okay Mike, really,” he’d get serious, squeezing your hand, “no, I could tell what they said hurt your feelings, honestly they must lack brain cells!” He’d huff, turning his face back to see if the culprits were still there. But you’d tug on his hand and he’d immediately look down. “Thanks Mikey,” you said smiling all teary eyed at your defender.

His eyes would get misty too, “shucks Y/n! Of course!! anytime!! I’ll always be here for you,” and he’d pull you into a crushing hug. The best kind, where you just felt so much love. “When’d you get so tall?” You joked, sniffing back the tears from falling. He snickered looking down at his feet, and you followed his gaze seeing he had obvious sole inserts. “Pftttt,” you laughed and he laughed too, “what’re you talkinggg about I’ve always been tall!” he continued joking

[ladylannisterxo]

Kiss Me Deadly

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Words; 9.4k (wowza!)

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unhealthy coping mechanisms, protected and unprotected sex (yes there are two smut scenes!), semi-public sex, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), marking, light face slapping (only once, a blink and you'll miss it moment), teasing, praise kink, flirting, a single drug deal, smoking, angst, fluff, love confessions, angst with a happy ending, reader had a past relationship with Billy, reader is kind of mean (on occasion), somewhat follows canon storyline (yeahhh, I think that's everything lmao!)

Summary; On your good days, you can manage to navigate life without thinking of Billy at all. Sometimes he only springs up in your mind once or twice but it's never long enough to throw you off course. But on your bad days... well, that's what led you here into the arms of Eddie Munson, a boy you're determined not to like but one who is eager to burrow under your skin and never let you go.

A/N; Ahhhh I'm so excited about this one! I've been tossing this idea around in my head for about a week and I just HAD to write it - Eddie has taken over my entire life so here we are, with 9k words (my longest fic ever) of just Eddie goodness!

{ masterlist }

It started off simple enough and it’s not as if any of this was planned. No way. Eddie Munson, the local menace to society, was your dealer. That’s all, case closed. And it’s not as if you wanted to become a druggy overnight or anything, but after the events of Starcourt, you were beginning to feel less and less like yourself and more like an alien trapped inside of a body you no longer understood.

Starcourt had been… a disaster, and that’s putting it mildly. Sometimes in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind, you can still see the flashing lights of the fireworks and, always of course, the overwhelming guttural screams Billy had let out in his attempt to fight off the Mind Flayer. Billy was never supposed to be a part of this. Billy was never supposed to die. On your good days, you can manage to navigate life without thinking of Billy at all. Sometimes he only springs up in your mind once or twice but it’s never long enough to throw you off course. But, on your bad days… well, that’s what led you here.

After Starcourt had fallen, after all of the funerals, Hawkins did its best to return to a state of normalcy. How everyone around you was able to casually move on as if this wasn’t the biggest hit this town had ever taken was beyond you. It ended up being one big cover up: a mall fire. Something about a corroded gas line that ended up setting the place ablaze. How quaint. But if anyone in this town had half a mind to really think about it, how does a brand new shopping mall already have a corroded gas line? Short answer, it doesn’t. It wouldn’t.

It was after the cover up story and after everyone started to move on that you stopped feeling so sad all the time, stopped grieving so much. Instead, all of those emotions morphed into one that seemed to sit in the pit of your stomach day in and day out: anger. And not just any type of anger, the type that is white hot, unbridled rage. It’s all consuming and when you really start to feel it, it takes over every nerve ending in your body and makes your brain check out.

You needed to take the edge off, you needed to sleep without having an abundance of nightmares all the goddamn time. And that’s what brought you to Eddie Munson. You had heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that Eddie sold drugs on the side. You didn’t really know Eddie all that well, having never really spoken to him, but you knew of him. You knew he was repeating senior year for the third time which was absolutely baffling to say the least but you also knew that while he talked a lot of shit about parties, he was always at them. Every single one, or well, all of the ones you had been to anyway over the years. He would always operate as a wallflower, lurking in the shadows, selling his supply to the overeager teens of the town—really just being a productive member of society, no doubt. It was truly something, how the well to do teens of this town had branded Eddie the label “freak” and yet when they needed to get blitzed out of their minds, he was their guy! What a bunch of bullshit.

You had never partaken in the drug scene, never wanted to stray off course. You were a good student, more than good, if you were being totally honest. And it’s not as if your grades were slipping or anything, you just couldn’t focus anymore, your mind constantly drifting back to that night. You couldn’t take it anymore and that’s how you had originally found yourself staring down Eddie Munson as you engaged in your first ever drug deal. What a classy gal you are.

“I can give you a half ounce for uh… twenty. That work for you?”

“Sure?”

You had no idea what you were doing and now it was blatantly obvious. You hadn’t expected him to go all business-like on you when he popped open the lid of the container he carried around with him. Your eyes dart around the wooded area, fingers drumming lightly on the picnic table.

“First time, huh?”

It’s not unkind, more curious. Your eyes flick up to find him already staring at you—big, brown eyes searching yours, seemingly trying to figure you out. Why you of all people would be contacting him for a shady drug deal. You start to feel small under his weighted stare, a feeling that automatically sparks the anger inside of you.

“Thought you were a drug dealer, not a narc,” you snap, “what’s it matter to you?”

His eyes blow wide for a brief moment and then an easy smile forms on his lips. He turns his attention back to the assortment of drugs in front of him and starts pulling your “order” together.

“It doesn’t,” he responds after a moment, “just making sure you’re, ya know, good.”

“I’m fine.”

He smiles again. “Sure.”

And then he’s holding his hand out, eyes focused intently on you, waiting. Right. He’s not going to give you the goods without getting his payment first. Smart. Still baffling how he’s repeating senior year for the third time but common sense and book sense are two entirely different things. You rifle around in your bag for a moment before pulling out a crisp twenty dollar bill and placing it into his awaiting hand. He places your payment into his container and then drops what you came here for directly in front of you on your Chemistry textbook.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pulling yourself to your feet and shoving your “order” into the bottom of your bag.

“My pleasure.” He grins. Why does he keep smiling? “So, hey, random question, but do you play D&D?”

Your hands still as you turn back to face him. “Huh?”

“D&D? You know, Dungeons & Dragons.”

“I know what it is.”

“Right. So, I’m asking, do you play?”

What the fuck? You squint your eyes at him because surely, he’s fucking with you. This was just supposed to be a drug deal, where you exchange payment for goods and then carry on with your fucked up life. But here he is, Eddie fucking Munson, staring back at you with another one of his stupid smiles with, what appears to be, the patience of a fucking saint.

“I- I don’t- What?” Smooth.

He shakes his head with a chuckle, his brown waves bouncing slightly. “Look, you just, you seem like you could use a break and for me, well, D&D has always provided a stellar means of escapism.”

“I don’t know how to play,” you say flatly, willing the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“I could teach you,” he offers in return, “I’ve been told I’m quite good.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Uh huh and why would you want to be oh so kind and teach me the ways of D&D?”

“Like I said, you look like you could use a break.” He smiles again, you narrow your eyes. “And, yeah okay, we could use another player.”

You scoff but in spite of yourself, a hint of a smile finds its way onto your face. This is the most normal conversation you’ve had in months and it feels… good. So good. You’re not sure how to explain it but for all of Eddie’s wild antics and boisterous personality, he makes you feel calm, grounded.

“Okay, sure, why the fuck not?” You nod. “And you can… teach me? That’s not going to be difficult?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not going to be an overnight thing but I’m the Dungeon Master so if anyone can truly teach you, it’ll be me.”

He winks and you’re biting back a grin. This is so not how you thought this day was going to go.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh; can’t help it. “Dungeon Master?”

“Yeah, it’s the game organizer,” he explains confidently, “the one who creates the campaign and the… what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing! It’s just,” you pause, tilting your head to the side, granting him a sly smile, “I mean, you realize how it sounds, right? Dungeon Master?” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to let him in on the joke. “Come on, Dungeon Master! It makes you sound like a sex fiend!”

He snorts. Dropping his head, his chin rests against his chest as a laugh ripples through his entire body. Then he’s covering his face with his hands and he almost looks… embarrassed? No way, Eddie doesn’t get embarrassed. Does he? But his laughter subsides and he meets your gaze again, a shimmer still present in his eyes and a forever smile on his face.

“Sex fiend, huh?” He winks. “Not the worst thing I’ve ever been called.”

“Okay and we’re done here.”

He laughs again and you’re pretty sure that he’s just laughing at you at this point. His eyes remain focused on you as you finish packing up your things and sling your bag over your shoulder.

“So, let me know if you ever need to take the edge off again,” he says simply, gathering his own things, “and I’m free tomorrow for D&D if you’re still… interested?”

You give him a thumbs up because that’s apparently something that you do now and instead of waiting for a response or, God forbid, another awkward moment, you start walking back towards campus. You can feel his eyes on you, burning right through to your soul but you don’t dare turn around because if you have to see him smile at you one more time, you might shatter into a million pieces.

That was three months ago and your “not so relationship” relationship with Eddie became surprisingly easy after that. He continued to hook you up with weed whenever things became a little too difficult to manage; you never took anything stronger, you didn’t trust yourself enough to give up complete control. He also kept his word and taught you the ins and outs of D&D. You’re no expert but you’re decent enough to keep up with the longtime players of the Hellfire Club, a club which you now find yourself a part of. You have the shirt and everything.

And Eddie was easy, uncomplicated. You liked Eddie. You liked Eddie a lot. You found out he played guitar in a band; a band which you still haven’t seen play yet but you keep telling him you’ll come to a gig one day. He’s also surprisingly funny, always doing the absolute most to make you laugh, and he’s smart too, smarter than he gives himself credit for. He just lacks… dedication? Determination? Confidence? All of the above.

Oh and then there’s the sex. That came later, about a month after the initial drug deal. Sex with Eddie was also another thing you did not plan for but it came so naturally. But there were rules… or well, you had rules and Eddie abided by them. He had to or else he wouldn’t be getting his dick wet. And they weren’t unreasonable, not to you anyway, and there were only three.

Rule Number One: No one could know. And it’s not because you were embarrassed about being seen with him, that didn’t matter to you. You spoke to him when you passed him in the halls, you sat with him at lunch, you wore the fucking Hellfire Club shirt that let everyone else know who you spent your time with. That’s not what this rule is for. You didn’t want anyone to know that you were fucking Eddie, rather regularly, because you didn’t want anyone to slap a label onto your relationship. Because it’s not a relationship, not at all. It’s just two people engaging in casual consensual sex because it feels good and it helps take the edge off. It means nothing and you can stop at any time. Besides, if you were being completely honest with yourself… you wanted one thing that was just yours, a thing you could keep away from the prying eyes of Hawkins because if no one knew about it, it could never be ruined.

Rule Number Two: No kissing. This also includes no marking, which is a sub point to Rule Number One because a mark would alert everyone to something happening. You were fine with fucking Eddie; you were good with blowing him and having him finger you and eat you out at the same time. These were all things that you were perfectly content with. Because it’s meaningless but kissing? No way. Kissing is intimate, kissing is a risk, kissing opens the door to feelings and… no, fuck that. Eddie had thought this rule was a bit too much so to compromise, you allow him to kiss any part of your body, just not your lips. Halfway happy.

And then there’s the final rule. Rule Number Three: No talking. Now, this seems a little excessive, you’re aware of that. But this doesn’t include shooting the breeze or talking about D&D or music or whatever. This is specifically for those deeper topics like why sometimes you need to buy weed from him every day of the week or why it looks like you didn’t sleep well the night before or what exactly happened at Starcourt that fateful July night. No, there is no room for that type of talk because all it does is piss you off. The one thing you found that you liked the most about Eddie is that he doesn’t pry and maybe it’s because he really doesn’t give a shit one way or the other but you both learned the hard way what happens when he asks if you’re feeling okay. You had snapped at him hard one afternoon after a routine hookup and he recoiled from you like he had been burned. Now this rule exists and everyone is much happier for it. Right? Right.

The school day had been dragging and it was only noon. You sometimes prefer to spend your lunch period in the library studying or getting caught up on work but Hellfire Club is meeting later this evening and Eddie likes to brief everyone ahead of time. So, here you are, sitting alone at a lunch table waiting for everyone else as you go ahead and complete your Physics homework. You’re currently trying to figure out how the back of the textbook is claiming the problem you’re working on should result in an entirely different answer then the one you’re getting when you feel a presence behind you. You see a Newsweek magazine drift down in front of your field of vision and his mouth is right at your ear.

“The devil has come to America,” he says ominously.

He drops himself down on the bench next to you, straddling the seat and facing you. He brings the magazine up in front of his face and scans the article dramatically. You drop your pencil with a sigh and grant him your undivided attention because surely, this is going to be good.

“Dungeons & Dragons. At first regarded as a harmless game of make believe now has both parents and psychologists concerned.” He reads off in an overly exaggerated tone. “Studies have linked violent behavior to the game saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even… murder!”

He slaps the magazine down on the table with a flourish, granting you a manic grin. You breathe a laugh, pulling the magazine closer to scan the rest of the article.

“Sodomy, huh?” You inquire, eyes trained on the magazine.

Eddie barks a laugh. “Apparently.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

You can feel his eyes on you as he leans in closer, trying to gauge even the subtlest of actions.

“I’m sorry, am I learning something about you right now?”

“What do you mean?” You ask innocently, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Sodomy includes oral and let’s be honest, we are no stranger to that.”

“Sure but it also includes anal so again, am I learning something about you right now?”

“I dunno.” You shrug and it’s not an answer but he’ll figure it out later… one day… eventually. “But I’m pretty sure the devil has been here the whole time and even if he is just now making his way to America, riding in on the back of a fantasy game just seems illogical. But hey, what do I know?”

He rests his head in the palm of his hand, listening to you run off at the mouth over something as inconsequential as a bullshit article about the dangers of D&D. He feels a warmth bloom in his chest but he ignores it, he always ignores it—he has to. Instead, he opts to stare at you with a whimsical smile etched on his face. His eyes travel down to your notebook full of equations he can’t make heads or tails of.

“What are you working on?”

“Physics,” you reply easily, picking up your pencil and resuming your work.

“I didn’t know you were taking Physics,” he mumbles, leaning in closer to watch you work.

“Yep, AP.”

“Oh, little miss advanced placement, huh?” He purrs, breath tickling your ear. “Too bad this isn’t multiple choice. You could pick D, all of the above for everything.”

You snort. “Mmm, is that what you do? Pick D on all of your quizzes and tests?”

“Well actually,” he states, taking on an overly posh accent, “I’ll have you know that the general rule of thumb is that if you don’t know something, always pick C. Which… now that I’m thinking about it, that’s probably where I keep going wrong.”

“Oh that’s where you keep going wrong,” you say, dropping your pencil and turning to him with a smile. “And here I thought it was because you didn’t study and didn’t try.”

Eddie scans your face as a mischievous glint forms in his eyes. “So D then, all of the above.”

You shake your head with an eye roll. “You’re insufferable.”

You turn back to your work and a companionable silence falls over the two of you. He watches you for a few moments more before pulling out a pen and doodling in the margins of your notebook. You let him, finding the notion that you’ll eventually be turning this work in and your teacher will also have to gaze at these doodles endlessly entertaining.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” he murmurs offhandedly after a moment.

Your heart twists in your chest and you hate it. You don’t hate it because he said it, you hate it because you actually don’t hate it. Not even a little bit.

“I need something from you,” you blurt out, trying desperately to skip over how his stupid compliment made you feel.

“Alright,” he nods, still drawing his doodles, “is this a weed kind of something or… another kind of something?”

“I dunno,” you breathe, “skip fourth and find out.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to meet yours and he can instantly tell from your weighted stare and shallow breathing that this isn’t the “weed kind of something”. He smirks.

“How am I supposed to graduate if I keep skipping all my classes?” He’s messing with you, he likes to do that from time to time. He doesn’t really care though, he’ll skip every class if you ask him to. “Where do you want to meet? The woods—”

“—Your van. Parking lot. Fourth period.” You lean in a little closer, breath fanning over his face. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up. He doesn’t go for it, he knows better. Going against your rules always ends up with him getting burned. He lets out a shaky breath and opens his mouth to respond when Gareth drops his bag down on the table with a loud thump. You and Eddie immediately spring apart as the others file in to sit with you. You bite your lip, turning back to your work and he knows the rest of this conversation will have to wait until he gets you alone during fourth period.

The remainder of lunch passes by fairly quickly. Eddie briefs everyone on what to expect at Hellfire later and you admittedly only focus a little bit as you really are trying to get this Physics work out of the way. Especially since Hellfire always runs longer than planned, especially because you’ll be skipping fourth period. You squeeze your thighs together in anticipation.

Third period English feels like it lasts an eternity and while normally you’re invested in the novel of the week, you can’t help but find yourself staring at the clock, willing the minutes to tick by quicker than they are. When the bell sounds, you’re immediately out of your seat and booking it to the exit that leads to the parking lot. You hope Eddie is already there waiting, you don’t like arriving before he does. It offers too much risk for someone to see you lingering around his van.

You slow your pace when you finally get outside, trying to act casual as you meander slyly on over to where his van is parked. You spin in a slow circle to see if anyone is paying any attention to you and once you deem yourself completely anonymous, you thump your fist against the back door of his van: two steady knocks, a beat, and then four more in quick succession. You came up with the secret knock after the one time he took his precious time in letting you in and someone almost saw you. Just another sub point to Rule Number One, that’s all.

One of the doors opens just wide enough for you to squeeze through and then he’s reaching out a hand to pull you up and inside. Once the door is shut and locked and you do a quick perimeter check to definitely make sure no one is getting nosy, your hands immediately fly to the buckle of his belt, unbuckling it and whipping the belt through the loops of his jeans so fast, it makes a cracking sound in the stillness of the van.

“Someone’s eager,” he laughs, “not that I’m complaining but I’d be interested to know what it was I said at lunch to warrant you being all over me like this.”

“Why?”

“So I can do it again, obviously.”

“Shut up,” you huff with an eye roll, “take your clothes off.”

He does, starting with his shirt. He pulls it up and over his head, exposing the inky black of his tattoos against his pale skin to you. When he catches you staring, he smirks and then he’s kicking off his Reeboks and sliding himself out of his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. He’s on full display and you’re still very much clothed. His cock stands at full attention, red and leaking, ready to be touched and sucked and fucked.

“Good thing I’m not self-conscious,” he admits, eyeing your still fully clothed form.

“I want you to do it,” you state matter-of-factly and then, “please.”

He walks on his knees over to you; it’s awkward but no one here is laughing. It’s all heated stares and crackling sexual tension. His hands run softly up your stomach to cup your breasts and then back down around your waist to squeeze the swell of your ass. The action pushes you flush up against his warm skin and his nose bumps against your own. He’s too close so you turn your head before he gets the wrong idea and he latches his lips onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder and suckles at your skin.

You moan softly at the sensation, hands resting on his biceps. “No marks,” you warn.

Eddie lets go with a sigh and then his fingers are teasing the hem of your shirt before he rips it up and over your head in one swift motion. His hand splays against your back in search of the clasp to your bra and you breathe a soft laugh after a moment of intense fumbling.

“Front clasp, Eds.”

He looks down and finds the damn thing sitting pretty between the swell of your breasts and his breath hitches. “Even better,” he groans.

He pops the clasp open and pulls the bra off your shoulders and down your arms, flinging it to the discarded pile of clothes already accumulating. His attention is back on your breasts in an instant, cupping them in his hands and teasing your nipples between his fingers until they’re hardened peaks. You drop your head back with a sigh and he licks a stripe from the base of your neck up to your jaw. It sends a shiver cascading down your spine.

“Can you help me out with your shoes at least?”

You drop rather awkwardly down onto your ass and pull at the laces of your Converse, tugging them both off and tossing them over to where his Reeboks lay. You lean back, keeping yourself propped up on your elbows and he takes the initiative to unfasten the button of your jeans and pull them and your panties down and off your legs.

Your hand reaches out on instinct, teasing your fingers along his shaft. He twitches at your touch. Eddie leans over you then, hovering just a breath away from you and before you can turn your head away from him again, he presses a delicate kiss to your cheek and then moves his lips to your jaw and then further down your neck. He stops for a moment at your breasts, lavishing them with his hands and tongue, taking each nipple into his mouth and drawing out the most wanton moans from you. As sinful as you sound, it’s like heaven to him. He trails wet kisses down your belly and then he’s finally, finally where you want him most.

His breath is hot against your pussy and his nose brushes ever so lightly against your clit. You bite down on your lip, keeping yourself still as you wait for him to make his fucking move. You’re just about to chastise him, tell him to take a goddamn picture, it’ll last longer, when he flattens his tongue against your entrance and licks all the way up to your clit.

“Oh,” you breathe, letting your arms buckle out from underneath you to lay flat on your back.

After fucking in his van started becoming a regular occurrence, Eddie took it upon himself to make it a bit more comfortable for the two of you. There are now a couple of blankets for you to lay on and a few pillows because why not? The more comfy it is, the better. He likes to refer to his ride now as the “Shaggin’ Wagon” as a joke which he finds hilarious. You didn’t at first but each time he uses the term, he waggles his eyebrows and gives you a mischievous grin and you can’t help but laugh with him. Eddie is a total loser sometimes but you like it.

His tongue circles around your clit for a moment, loving the whiny sounds you grace him with. Then he’s latching on with his lips and sucking fervently against the sensitive bundle of nerves and your back arches at the feeling. Your hands immediately fly to twist your fingers in his hair but also to keep his him right fucking there. A single finger prods at your entrance and in one fluid motion, he’s buried knuckle deep inside of you, the cool metal of his rings flush against your ass.

“Fuck, Eds,” you moan, “right there.”

His finger slips in and out of you at a steady pace, lips still stimulating your clit. Your fingers twist tighter in his hair, impending orgasm right on the horizon. He slips his digit from you, wraps both hands around your thighs, and buries his face completely in your cunt, his tongue pushing inside to get you just where you so desperately want to be. You roll your hips, feeling his tongue push in deeper, and then with an elongated moan, you’re cumming on his tongue and he’s lapping at your dripping pussy, taking everything you give him.

With a shuddering gasp, you push at his head to keep him from overstimulating you because this is far from over. His mouth is slick with your arousal and he wipes his fingers across his mouth, gathering up your wetness and licking them clean.

“Have I ever told you how fucking good you taste?” He asks, finger in his mouth and mirth ever present in his eyes.

“Today? No.”

“Well let me remind you,” he whispers, crawling back up your body and bumping his nose against yours. “You taste so goddamn divine, sweetheart, it’s too bad you can’t taste it for yourself.”

“Don’t start, Eddie,” you caution.

“Okay, okay,” he relents, “do you want to keep going?”

You spread your legs wider around him, reaching down to take his cock in hand. Hips rolling forward, you brush the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“What do you think?”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “okay, let me get a condom.”

Eddie pulls away from you then, fumbling for his discarded jeans. He reaches into his back pocket for his wallet and then he’s pulling a foil packet from its confines. Tearing it open with expert precision, he rolls the condom onto his length and then he’s back, hovering over you once again. He grasps one of your legs, hand gripping the underside of your knee, and pushes it up towards your face, effectively spreading you open for him. He lines himself up at your entrance, teasing his cock through your folds a few times.

“Ready?” He asks, voice like gravel.

“Yes,” you whisper, anticipation like ice water in your veins.

He slips into you, torturously slow, inch by aching inch. Your hands run up his torso, landing on his chest and digging your nails into his supple skin. He hisses at the contact, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth and then he’s bottomed out, hips flush against your own.

“Don’t hold back,” you tell him, “give me everything you got.”

“I always do.”

Then he’s gingerly pulling back out and his eyes flit to yours—the last possible second for either of you to put a stop to this dancing between the two of you—and then he’s snapping his hips and setting a brutal, mind-numbing pace. You moan like a whore, you always do when Eddie fucks you. Your nails rake down his chest leaving scratches behind in their wake; Eddie doesn’t mind, he never has. He doesn’t care if you mark him, he likes the reminder that he fucked you so hard and so good that your first instinct was to scratch his skin all to hell.

“This is what you wanted,” he grunts, “what you needed, isn’t it?”

You nod, biting down sharply on your bottom lip. He hikes the leg he’s holding higher, changing the angle and you wrap your other leg around his waist, keeping him close to fuck you faster, harder, deeper.

“Nuh uh,” he reprimands, slapping his hand lightly against your cheek and then pulling your lip from between your teeth, “you know I like it when you tell me how good this feels for you.”

You scoff. “God, you love to be praised, don’t you? Have to be told just how much of a good boy you are.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth and you match his steely glare with one of your own. And then he’s smiling one of those wicked smiles he usually reserves for D&D when he surprises everyone with a hellacious plot twist. He shifts his position, pulling himself onto his knees and then he’s grabbing both of your legs and pushing them as far forward as he can, practically bending you in half. Your feet brush against the roof of the van and with one last smug grin, he resumes fucking you with such ferocity that it punches the air from your lungs.

“Oh fuck! Eddie- I- oh my God.”

Your breathless, brain completely frazzled and you can feel him everywhere, like he’s digging himself a permanent home underneath your skin. Your hands grapple against his chest, searching for purchase as his hips snap against yours brutally. He’s still got that wicked gleam in his eye and you know he’s got you right where he wants you. The head of his cock slams against your sweet spot over and over again and it has you screaming as pleasure courses through your body.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he laughs, shoving two of his fingers into your mouth, “you really gotta shut the fuck up. Don’t want people to hear what a whore you’re being for the freak, do you?”

You moan around his fingers, sucking on them in the same way you'd suck his cock and the mental image has him groaning as his eyes flutter closed. Victory swims through your veins at being able to unravel him so quickly. You slap his hand away, his eyes reopening to gaze back down at you. The wicked, smug gleam is gone and all that’s left is pure desire. The way Eddie looks at you sometimes stills your heart in your chest because why would he want to? You’re an absolute fucking mess most days. You haven’t been something worth wanting in a long time… but here he is, looking at you as if you hung the fucking moon.

You grin, shoving those thoughts from your mind. “Thought that’s what you wanted. Thought you wanted to hear me scream for you as you pummeled my cunt with your huge cock.”

Eddie lets go of your legs, allowing you to wrap them around his waist and then he’s covering you with his body, one hand pressed to the floor and the other tangled in your hair. His nose brushes against your cheek, breath hot against your ear.

“You say such nice things to me, sweetheart, and nice girls get what they want,” he whispers against your heated skin, “so why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?”

You whimper in response, his hips rocking into you at such a steady pace that it makes you want to burst. Your orgasm bubbles up inside of you, twisting tightly in your belly and you roll your hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, letting him take you higher and higher and higher until it feels like you’re floating above your body.

“Come on, Eds, make me cum.”

He untangles his fingers from your hair and brings them down to rub quick and firm circles onto your clit and with one last loud and elongated moan, you’re cumming on his cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, fucking you through your high and chasing his own release. “Shit, you’re so good for me, you know that?”

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you rake your nails down his back, keeping his body flush against your own. He thrusts one, two, three more times and with a choked moan, he finds his own release. The two of you remain in this position for a few moments, catching your breath and relishing in the post-orgasmic bliss hanging in the air. Gently, Eddie pulls himself up and out of you and then he removes the condom, tying it off and tossing it toward the back door to be disposed of later. He lays down next to you, head propped up in his hand while the other rests on your stomach.

“What are you thinking about?” He inquiries softly.

You shake your head, eyes trained on the roof.

“Hey,” he whispers, fingers dancing along your skin, “are you feeling okay?”

With a huff, you sit up and immediately grab for your clothes, pulling them back on as quickly as possible. Eddie sits up as well, eyeing you warily as he reaches for his own clothes. He’s not entirely sure what it is he’s done but he’s positive he’s gone against one of your rules. It’s not as if he meant to, he was simply concerned and like hell is he going to believe that being concerned for the wellbeing of someone else, someone as special as you, is going to be considered a character flaw.

“Can you stop for a second?” He asks gently.

You’ve already managed to pull all of your clothes back on. Pushing your hair wildly out of your face, you begin the task of lacing your Converse back up so you can get the hell out of here. It feels like you’re suffocating, like the fucking van is on fire.

“I don’t know why you keep doing this,” you mumble.

“Doing what?” He slips his shirt back on and then he’s leaning back against the side of the van, trying to keep as much space between him and you as he possibly can.

“Ruining things,” you snap, “you always fucking do this, Eddie!”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me that!”

His eyes grow wide at the seething tone of your voice. You’ve finally slipped on your Converse and you snap your head over to stare him down. If he could get further from you, he would. The anger is rolling off of you in waves and it’s unbelievably stifling in this confined space. How did everyone go so wrong so fast?

“I have three rules, Eddie, and you agreed to those three rules, did you not?” You don’t wait for him to respond. “So I don’t understand why the fuck you keep going against them and why the fuck you’re always so goddamned surprised when it pisses me off!”

“Jesus Christ, is this all because I asked if you were okay?!”

“I don’t want you to ask me if I’m okay! I don’t need you to ask me! I am fine! I have been fine this whole time and I will continue to be fine. Okay?”

He shifts his eyes away from you, staring out the front windshield, muscle in his jaw jumping with tension. “That was a convincing lie the first few times you said it but it sounds a lot like bullshit now.”

“You don’t fucking know me,” you hiss.

“How can I? You won’t let me!” He turns his eyes back on you and he looks wounded, like you’ve ripped his heart out and crushed it right in front of him. “Your rules are bullshit! And the only reason they even exist is because you’re too afraid to let someone, let me, know you!”

You scoff, a bitter sound that runs over his skin like sandpaper. “We’re done.”

You shove the back door open and step out into the parking lot, inhaling copious amounts of fresh air to help settle your nerves. Eddie’s presence looms behind you like a shadow, like he’s the predator and you’re the prey. You start walking back to campus, refusing to look back his way. All you want is to go grab your things from your locker and get the fuck out of here, forget that you ever wasted a single goddamn second on Eddie Munson. The van door slams loudly.

“Are you still coming to Hellfire tonight?”

The question catches you off guard, stops you right in your tracks. Is he fucking serious? You slowly turn back to find him leaning against the side of his van, lighting a cigarette. Seemingly not a care in the world.

“What?”

“Are you… still coming… to Hellfire… tonight?”

He enunciates his question like a fucking asshole and it makes your blood boil. He’s not even looking at you, too preoccupied with his stupid cigarette. Coward.

“That’s what you’re concerned with?”

“Well,” he begins, taking a long drag of his cigarette, “since I’m not allowed to ask you about anything else, I figured falling back on D&D would be a safe option.”

You want to scream but it comes out as a humorless laugh. “Yeah, Eddie, I’ll still be there. Just because I’m no longer fucking you doesn’t mean I’m gonna fuck your campaign.”

“Jesus Christ,” he scoffs, tossing his cigarette to the ground and jumping into the driver’s seat of his van.

He doesn’t pay you a second glance as he peels out of the parking lot, leaving you behind in a cloud of dust. The wind gets knocked out of you fairly quickly after that and you’re not sure what exactly it is you’re feeling. It’s definitely not anger although you’re used to anger, you prefer anger. No, what you’re feeling is an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time. Pain. It scorches through your veins like fire and you want to dig your nails into your skin and rip it out over how badly it burns.

But you can’t be feeling pain or sadness. Not about this. Not about Eddie. You haven’t felt pain like this since Billy died and you went numb fairly fast after his funeral because you cried so much. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be capable of feeling that level of pain again. But it’s not like Eddie died or anything; you’ll see him later and he’ll remind you all over again just how annoying he is when he cracks his jokes or captivates you with his enticing storytelling or looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

You sigh. Fuck.

The next few hours slip by in a blur and before you know it, you’re back at campus, halfway through another round of Eddie’s campaign. He barely glanced up at you when you had walked in, choosing to focus on getting everything set up. He didn’t even speak to you. It didn’t feel right; you usually showed up early anyway and you and Eddie would shoot the breeze and tease each other and laugh until everyone else arrived. But not tonight; instead, it was like a vice had twisted itself around the room and sucked all the air from it.

For as much as he ignored you when you first arrived, once the game got going, it was as if he had never been bothered about anything ever in his life. He was the same Eddie that he’s always been—eyes alight as he waits for the perfect opportunity to spring the next great plot twist on the group, a dazzling smile etched onto his face because he’s right where he needs to be, in his element. It makes your stomach twist and your brain go fuzzy. You want the game to be over.

And then it is and everyone’s clearing out in high spirits because tonight was a good run. Then it’s just you and Eddie left in the room and that vice from earlier is circling the room again.

“You were good tonight,” he says offhandedly, not looking at you, “you barely need help anymore.”

“Thanks,” you say, “I had a good teacher.”

An awkward silence falls over the room and you’re not sure what to do. Should you leave? Should you stay and help clean up? Should you say something? Should he be the one to say something? You remember all too well what long silences with Billy meant and usually you only needed to give him some time and he’d come around but Eddie isn’t Billy and you’re not really sure where to go from here. It frustrates you to no end and you want to cry but you also don’t because God forbid Eddie see you cry. The thought is unbearable. When you look back at Eddie, he’s already looking at you and his expression is unreadable.

“I’d ask if you’re feeling alright but,” he stops, sighs, “I really don’t want to fight with you again.”

“No, it’s- it’s okay. You were right.”

He nods. “I’m really not trying to be an asshole here but right about what exactly?”

“Everything,” you say, voice catching, “I’m not fine, Eddie. I haven’t been fine in a long time.”

He crosses the room in three long strides and suddenly you’re enveloped in a hug and it feels warm and nice and like home that a sob immediately erupts from you and then you’re clutching onto him like he’s the only thing keeping your feet on the ground.

“Shh shh shh,” he whispers against your hair, kissing your temple, “don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry I screamed at you today,” you cry, pulling back to look at him, “that wasn’t cool.”

Eddie chuckles, looking at you like you could never do any wrong and you hate it. Hate that he’s so understanding, hate that he just gets it, hate that he’ll never ask you to be anything other than what you are. But what you hate most is that you don’t hate it, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“Come here, let’s sit down,” he says, pulling you over to the table and then you’re both perched on the side of it, turned towards each other, knees brushing and hands interwoven together.

“Look,” he says softly, “I shouldn’t have come at you like I did today—”

“No, Eddie, you—”

“No, listen, okay?” He searches your eyes, waiting to see if you’ll cut him off again. “Your rules are kinda intense sometimes… but I get it. What you went through, what you lost, I- I can’t even begin to imagine what it has been like for you. The pain I know that you felt, the pain I know you still feel. Sweetheart, I know it sometimes looks like I’m not paying attention but I am and I see the look in your eyes, you know what I’m talking about, when you disappear inside your own head.”

You nod, nibbling on your bottom lip. “It’s usually about that night, the night that Billy died. I think about it more often than I’d like, going over what happened and all of the ‘what ifs’. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he implores, “you loved him. I know that you did and I know that a part of you still does. There’s a part of you that always will and I never want to be the one to take that away from you. But I think that you’re scared—scared to let someone in, scared to love again, scared that you’ll end up losing it all again. And I- I really need you to know that I care about you so much, sweetheart, I mean, I- I’m so fucking in love with you and I think what scares you the most is the fact that you might love me too.”

You breathe a shaky sigh, a single tear falling from your eye which he brushes away instantly with a touch so gentle, it has you coming apart at the seams.

“I’m a mess, Eddie,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And to your surprise, he laughs, a full laugh that takes over his entire body. He stretches his arms out wide before you. “And what do you think I am? Perfectly put together?”

In spite of yourself, you smile; the kind of smile that lights up your whole face and makes his body grow warm at the sight.

“There she is,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Eds?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I do… love you, that is,” you whisper, trepidation flooding your body. “And I still get scared sometimes but I- I want to try to not be… with you, if you’re… okay with that?”

“More than.” He smiles. “Let’s be scared together, yeah?”

“And no more rules.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure you want that?”

“Yes,” you state resolutely, “I want to talk about anything and everything, I think it might help. And I want people to know about us, I don’t want to hide you away like some shameful secret cause I’m not ashamed. I want everyone to know that I’m yours and you’re mine and… and I want you to kiss me. All the time. Every chance you get.”

Eddie doesn’t waste a second. He immediately cups your face in his hands and brings his lips to yours and it’s everything you imagined it would be. He tastes like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and it’s gross but it’s him so you love it. You tease your tongue along his bottom lip and he eagerly opens his mouth for you to slip your tongue inside, kissing him deeper.

Your hands slip under the hem of his Hellfire shirt and you run your fingers along his bare torso, his abdomen tightening at your feather light touch. He chuckles lightly against your lips and lo and behold, Eddie’s ticklish and it makes you feel giddy that you’ve discovered something brand new about him.

You pull back suddenly, eyes blown wide and lips swollen. “I want you, all of you. The right way.”

His gaze darts around the room before landing back on you. “Here?”

“Are you expecting anyone?”

“No.”

“Then yeah, Eds, right here.”

He pulls himself back up to stand between your open legs and caresses his fingers up your thighs before making quick work of pulling your Hellfire shirt up and over your head. His eyes land on the front clasp of your bra and he eagerly unfastens it and pulls it from your body.

“Look at you,” you tease, pecking your lips against his jaw, “finding the clasp the first time around.”

“Hush.”

“Your turn,” you say and then you’re just as eagerly ripping his shirt up and over his head, exposing his ink splattered porcelain skin to you. “I just want to put my mouth everywhere.”

“What’s stopping you?”

You purse your lips in contemplation, tilting your head to look over towards his “throne”; the seat that is his and his alone, where he sits before you all like a king and commands the room. It sends a thrill straight to your core.

“Go have a seat,” you whisper, pushing him towards the chair. “But take your pants off first.”

He does, stripping himself of his Reeboks, jeans, and boxers and then he’s dropped himself down in this “throne”, manspreading for your pleasure. He looks like art come to life, bathed in the soft white glow of the overhead light, alabaster skin on complete display for your eyes and your eyes alone. You bite your lip and then slip off your Converse and shimmy your own jeans and panties down your legs. You cross over to him, hips swaying seductively, eagerly soaking up the look of absolute want that he sends you. Then you drop to your knees before him, eyes aligned with his hardened cock.

“Oh,” he breathes, “so this is what we’re doing.”

“No, this is what we’re starting with. Only fair after the two mind blowing orgasms you gave me earlier.”

“I aim to please, sweetheart.”

“And please you do,” you say sweetly, batting your eyes up at him, “now, let me take care of you.”

Before he has a chance to respond, you grasp his cock and lick a firm stripe from the base to the tip. He groans low in his throat, head dropping back against the chair and eyes screwing shut.

“Oh fuck me,” he whispers, “that’s good.”

You swirl your tongue around the head, lapping at the precum pooling and then you’re taking him fully into your mouth, sliding all the way down until your nose brushes against his pubic hair. You take a minute to adjust to the feeling of him in your throat and his thighs are tense underneath your fingertips. You hum once and his entire body spasms.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, “you’re so goddamn good to me.”

You hum again in appreciation and he groans. You glide slowly back up, tongue flat against the underside of his cock and then you flick your eyes up to meet his. Eddie’s staring back at you, mouth slightly agape, and eyes full of lust. No, not lust… this is love. Pure and true adoration. You grasp the base of his cock and begin bobbing your head at a steady pace, eyes remaining fixated on him. You may have admitted that you love him but it doesn’t mean you still can’t thoroughly enjoy just how quickly he falls apart for you.

There is spit dribbling from your lips and his fingers are tangled in your hair, keeping you somewhat in place as he shifts his hips to fuck your mouth. You hum around him again, letting the vibration course throughout his body and then he’s pulling you off his cock with a gasp.

“Okay, okay,” he grunts, breath shuddering, “I don’t want to cum yet so…”

“Got it.” You bite back a smile and then pull yourself up to straddle his lap. “Is this okay?”

“C-condom?”

“No, I want to feel you,” you blurt and then softer, eyes locking with his, “make me yours, Eds.”

“Shit,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back out of your face, “alright, sweetheart.”

You smile, melding your lips with his once more. Lining him up at your entrance, you bring yourself down, taking his cock fully in one fluid motion. You both moan into the kiss. One of his arms wraps around your waist while the other splays fingers across your upper back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands are resting atop his shoulders, using them as leverage to lift yourself up and drop back down, setting a steady pace.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he mumbles against your skin, lips trailing down your neck to your chest.

He tweaks your nipples between his fingers before he pulls one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak. Your nails dig harshly into his shoulders, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer. You throw your head back, a loud moan escaping your lips as you bounce fervently on his cock, bringing yourself closer and closer to your impending orgasm.

Eddie pulls off your nipple with a soft groan, hand coming up to brush against your cheek and tilt your head back down to meet his gaze. “I’m so close, sweetheart, tell me you are too.”

You nod, brushing his damp hair out of his face and resting your forehead against his. “Kiss me when you cum, Eds, please.”

“Fuck,” he groans, a choked sound that gets lodged in his throat. “Anything for you.”

You roll your hips faster, taking him deeper and you’re alternating between moaning like an absolute whore and chanting his name like it’s the only word you remember. His eyes remain locked on your face, letting you take control as you bring the two of you to release.

“Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, “kiss me, please kiss me.”

He surges forward, capturing your lips with his own and you’re teetering on the precipice. With one last hard thrust of his hips, you’re freefalling straight into the waves of bliss and Eddie cums shortly after with a groan so broken and loud, his warmth spreading through you. You continue to roll your hips, working you both through your high and then you’re opening your eyes to find him already gazing at you longingly.

You remain like that for a moment, basking in each other’s presence and then you’re both erupting into a fit of giggles because this feels right. You don’t feel like you need to hide from him anymore, like you could stay here in this moment with him forever and everything would be okay.

“I love you, Eddie,” you say so matter-of-factly that it makes your heart soar.

He blinks, a trademark Eddie smile pulling at his lips. The kind of smile that lights up a room and makes your heart skip a beat and breath stutter in your chest.

“I love you too. God, I love you so much, sweetheart.”

He kisses you again… and again… and again. You’re not sure what tomorrow holds or the day after that or the day after that and you definitely don’t know when the world is going to implode on itself again but at this moment, you’re not particularly concerned. Because you have Eddie and he has you and you’re not afraid anymore.

[wingedcat13]

Synovus: Villains Never Retire (4)

[And the end of Villains Never Retire - this one took much longer to finish, and it's a bit longer than the other segments at 11,334 words. Warnings for death, and rather more descriptions of violence than have thus far been typical. As always, catch up on what's come before from my pincushion post, and find this chapter on Ao3 here!]

How do you keep a clairvoyant from knowing that you are coming for them?

The short answer: you don’t.

The long answer is that it is, technically, possible. However, masking your movements from a clairvoyant is dependent on what type of clairvoyant they are.

Do they read actions, or intentions? If actions, work through someone else or manipulate the environment. Do not decide on a course of action until one conveniently presents itself. A spur of the moment blitz. If intentions, hire multiple actors. One of them will slip through the myriad warnings eventually. (Personally you think this method is a waste of assassins)

Do they only read the short term, or can they predict further into the future as well? If the short term only, poisons over time work best. If long term, be sure to act both kind and hostile in equal measure, until the method of their death is confused.

Is their ability only clairvoyance of the future, or can they read the past as well? If they can, you can never speak of your intentions aloud. Hide your correspondence in code, and send an assassin.

Of course, this all assumes you have time and assassins. You, personally, have neither.

But you do have something else: connections.

—-

When you recognize Athena and Menace in the broadcast, you want nothing more than to tear out of your lair and into the night like the wrath of hell let loose.

But there are several flaws in that plan, including that it is currently daylight, and that doing so would certainly get more people killed than you intend. Specifically people you care about, so that’s out.

Instead, you make a few phone calls.

“Optix.” You were still staring at your phone as the broadcast continued, promising an hour of execution. “Are you the reason I’m seeing this?”

You still weren’t sure what, exactly, Optix was - but it went by ‘it’ and had given its name, and was inherently jacked into any electronic cloud you had ever encountered. You didn’t know if it was a person, a program, or a genuine Artificial Intelligence, but you did know it could be helpful when it chose to be.

A thumbs-up emoji appeared in your messages.

“I owe you.”

A ‘no’ emoji, the red circle with its diagonal line.

“Do you have a location?”

Another ‘no’ emoji.

“Noted.”

The broadcast ended, you swept your phone back into your pocket.

“Boss,” that was Doll, looking very pale. “This is-“

“A trap? A problem? A truly blindingly idiotic move by a pack of misguided muppets I’m about to return to the scrap pile? Yes. Yes it is.”

The shadows are still writing around you, but they are drawing closer to your skin. You managed not to vaporize anything this time.

“Your eyes are glowing.” Doll notes uncertainly.

Glowing? Hm. That’s a bad sign. Normally it’s the shadows that appear there first.

Of course, the shadows come to hand when you are furious, when the anger is hot and choking. They rise when you are defensive, murky and obscuring. But this emotion - you are not certain you can call it anger, anymore, that somehow feels too weak - is cold at its core. Not the freezing, biting cold of fear, but the frost wind that steals warmth and cuts like knives.

And that emotion, whatever it is, is what calls the light.

“I am in control.” You inform Doll flatly. “Gather the others, make travel preparations. I have calls to make.”

Doll nods, bolting out of the room. You know it isn’t to get away from you so much as it is to get to work doing something, to feel as though he can help.

You replay the broadcast, short as it is.

By the time you’ve finished watching it a second time, you have a plethora of messages - other villains, sending you the clip. You don’t bother responding.

Instead, you flip to the number pad. Four digits into the number you intend to dial, it rings, from the same source.

You answer. A frustrated voice spits out a coordinate string and disconnects.

How do you keep a clairvoyant from knowing how you are going to kill them?

You use another clairvoyant, of course.

—-

When you drop from the underbelly of your plane, you do so alone.

Your minions are there, of course - Heather's piloting, with the rest on support positions or with other tasks when they actually land. But you will not take them with you into a brawl when you can help it.

You cannot fly, but you can use a different trick you learned through some very difficult trial and error - summoning sections of shadow and solidifying them, to 'run' across the sky. It's a peculiar feeling that combines vertigo with certain mental acrobatics to circumvent the laws of physics. If you fuck up, you'll fall.

So you don't fuck up.

You also don't try and stay airborne long. Instead, you let yourself drop in increments, cushioned by your shadows, until you reach the scrubland below.

You are, perhaps, a mile out from the outskirts of the town that you've been given the coordinates of. There's no question of whether it's the right one - there's a giant, gleaming metal spire in its center that doesn't belong amidst the southwestern architecture.

(The question of who endorsed these idiots is a problem you will handle later.)

There is no sign of movement in the town itself. The residents are either already casualties, imprisoned, or fled. You don't actually care which, you just want to know if you'll be stepping over more corpses than the ones you make.

There's only one way to find out - so you start walking.

---

Earlier, when you were first starting to train Alexandria, she had asked you why you never carried weapons.

"I don't really need them." You'd answered, even as you went through a practice pattern with a padded staff. "My shadows are amorphous, I can craft them however I need to. Harder mentally than fixing them into shape, but more difficult to physically counter."

Alexandria had been taking a break, perched on top of the giant tire you'd been having her lift. "You sure it's not just an image thing?" She'd asked skeptically.

You'd grinned, "Oh, it definitely adds to the image. I am unarmed, because I am always armed."

"Mom says you should do the opposite." She'd remarked. "Carry a weapon so that people think you're reliant on it, and then when they disarm you, they're surprised."

"That trick only works on someone once - though your mother does put it to good use. Also, her abilities are a little easier to disarm than mine. Shadows are everywhere - water? Not quite so easy to come by in certain circles. And the spear adds to her reach for better maneuverability. Your father too, I suppose, though he's more likely to bash someone with that shield."

Alexandria had studied you. "You really know a lot about how they fight."

In answer, you'd twirled the staff in your hands, and mimicked some of the spear patterns you'd seen both Athena and Legionnaire use.

"'Therefore I say: 'Know the enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles you will never be in peril.'" You quote.

"Sun Tzu?" Alexandria sighs, "Please don't make me memorize the Art of War. I've already got paragraphs of the Iliad I'll never be able to get rid of."

"Memorization's pretty useless." You toss the staff instead, spinning it for fun instead of a combat pattern. "I just want you to understand what it means, not how much gold you need to allocate per li traveled."

Alexandria had eyed you suspiciously, "How many times have you read the Art of War?"

"No more questions." You'd declared. "How's the flight coming?"

---

Thunder booms by the time you've made it to the spire itself.

The sky has been steadily darkening, as you've picked your way through the empty streets. There are pock marks in the asphalt, holes in the buildings. Some of them are burned to the ground or melted - Cobalt's work, most likely.

You briefly wonder if they have a recovery factor, if you'll have to put them down again today. It doesn't change much, either way.

No bodies. Bloodstains, crumpled cars. Someone's had the wherewithal to clean, at least. Or someone who could raise the dead showed up already - hard to tell from context clues.

If you weren't wearing your helmet, you could've taken a deep breath and smelled only the heat, melting into the softer gentleness of rain. You could've felt the wind on your face, in a steady breeze.

But you were wearing your helmet, so you only noted those things distantly, and that made it all the more contrasting when you stepped into the trap that had been laid for you.

---

There are sirens wailing, somewhere. The few who have not been cut off already, cut silent as the screams of the living have been, one by one and in waves. The hush that should follow is denied by the high pitched whining of machinery and the sound of burning things. There are sparks, and pops. Something like words worn smooth in the background, run over so many times that they're part of these floorboards that are now cracking and failing, released again at the moment of unmaking.

You focus on the sounds, because you cannot see the devastation. You focus on the sounds, because you cannot smell the burning. You focus on the sounds, because if something does not force you to confront it, you do not know how fast or far away you would be running.

You shut your eyes and fight for air. Your hands close into fists, and you feel the world roll around you. An earthquake? You should be running -

Breathe. Weigh the situation, then move.

The sirens are too loud. The flames - you would've noticed them earlier, seen the smoke. The pieces of this scenario do not match.

You flip the settings on your helmet. The sounds do not change.

A mental effect, then. An illusion?

On a hunch, you blanket the area around you in shadow. From a building to your left, you hear a squeak of terror.

Slowly, not trusting your sense of direction, you turn towards it and take a single step.

"I know that you are there." You say calmly. "Your illusions are good, but they are not perfect. Come out, or my shadows will drag you out."

There's a pause, and the illusions intensify - you can feel the heat of fire on one side of your body, smell harshly chemical smoke - then the thunder cracks again, and you are abruptly returned to the near silence of reality.

A shuffling of footsteps. Then a small head pokes around a doorframe.

You run your shadows over them anyway, to make sure this is not an adult pretending to be a child. If they are, they're either much better at illusions than they're letting on, or they can also shapeshift.

You'd say the figure that steps into view is no more than eight years old.

"What is your name?" You ask, still calm, still gentle.

"Ciaran." The answer is in a near whisper.

"They did not give you a code-name?"

The child pales. "Ch-Cheshire. Like the cat."

You nod. "Very well, Cheshire. I am Synovus."

You look up and down the street, and compare the feelings of your vision to the area that surrounds you now. A few things make sense.

"I know." The child says, swallowing. "Please don't kill me."

"I will only kill you if you try to kill me." You answer, matter-of-fact. It's no use protesting that you don't kill children, no one ever believes you. "Your abilities - that wasn't an illusion, was it? It was a memory. A memory you pushed into my mind."

Cheshire nods, hesitant. "Ez - Jester said I should make you scared."

"And so you chose something that had scared you." You complete, "I felt your fear. And why did Jester want me scared?"

"I'm not supposed to answer any questions."

"You already have."

"You're going to hurt me. Hurt them."

You fold your arms. Why do you keep winding up in moral arguments with children?

"That will not change based on what you tell me, little one."

"I wasn't supposed to be here." Cheshire blurts. "I was supposed to wait - to wait until you came inside, and then -"

They fall silent, and you nod. "And then Jester would teleport behind me, hm? And why are you out here then, alone?"

"Because I don't want you to hurt them. I thought I could make you run away before you fought."

"Others have come here before me. Have you scared them away too?"

The child scuffs a foot. "Some of them. No one's ever found me though."

You crouch. "You've done a very stupid thing, coming out here to face me. But I am not here for you, and I am in a hurry. Hide, and I will not hurt you."

Cheshire steps back, but hesitates. "And Jester?"

You sigh. "They must face the consequences of their actions."

Cheshire's bottom lip wobbles. "Don't kill him! He's - he's my brother, I don't - promise you won't kill him!"

Sometimes, you really do hate yourself. Past, present, and future.

"I promise." You grit out, "That I will not kill your brother, Jester, on the condition that you hide, and not use your powers again, until a woman named Rosie comes to get you. Do we have an agreement?"

A stubbornness enters Cheshire's expression. "Pinky promise."

Again, you feel like this is a trap. Also, you're mildly offended that you would need to make a further oath than the one you've already made, but this is a child. So you hold out one hand, as far as you can, and Cheshire does the same.

When Cheshire nods solemnly, you straighten, and turn back towards the spire. The sound of scuffling marks the child's scramble through the rubble, and you hope you haven't made a terrible mistake in letting them get away.

You allow yourself another heavy sigh, and call Rosie to tell her what to expect.

---

You don't actually know for sure whether or not you have siblings. But wanting to sacrifice yourself to save a family member? You can remember feeling that way.

You know who your parents are (sometimes you wish you didn't) and you're reasonably sure your mother didn't have another child after you. Your father could have a whole bevvy of children, a miniature army, and you would never have known. An elder full-blooded sibling could've been taken away prior to your conscious memory.

Your father was known as Sunhallow. He who is Hallowed by the Sun. A god-made-flesh, who seemed to bleed gold and healed in the sun, and could incinerate enemies in beams of light.

Your mother was simply your mother to you, and if she ever did anything with her minor telekinetic gifts beyond keep up with you, you never heard about it.

When you were young, an enemy came calling. Several, perhaps. You were packed from your private tutoring into a safe room, and you did not come out for several days. It was you, your tutor, and a few others, who you knew would die to protect you on pain of a worse death at Sunhallow's hands.

When you finally came out again, you were brought to see him. He told you that your mother had had to go away, but if you worked hard enough, you could be allowed to go see her again. When you would not be a burden to her work.

Desperate to please, you had thrown yourself into your education and training. Combat, economics, athletics. Trying to find a way to call the sun the way Sunhallow could, in vain.

Several months in, your shadows had finally manifested for the first time. You'd been delighted to show him, begged to be allowed to speak to your mother - a letter, a phone call.

Sunhallow had refused.

After that day, he called you his moon-child. You became his shadow, never speaking, never moving unless called upon to do so. Your training, somehow, increased.

And when you had done that for a month, you were brought into a room where a caped hero had been restrained on a table. You knew their name from the list you were to memorize, and their strengths and weaknesses accordingly. Their name was Willowsteel.

Sunhallow put a dagger in your hands, and pointed at Willowsteel.

"There is the man who took your mother." He told you, "Go and get her back."

You had torn into them as though somewhere inside them was a key, and you could use it to open a door, and on the other side would be your mother, happy to see you after so long apart. But there was no key: only blood, and eventually that ran out too.

When you were done, Sunhallow had led you to another room, and showed you your mother's corpse.

---

The rain began to fall just as you stepped over the threshold of the spire.

It caused an interesting audio phenomenon on the inside, as it rang off the metal in a discordant harmony with the hum of the air conditioning. Thunder rumbled again.

There was no one in the entry hall that you could see. Only an empty room, wide and spacious, with a large grand staircase leading up. It feels more like a warehouse than a lair.

“Optix.” You whisper inside your helmet. “Does this place have an intercom?”

A two note trill that you take as a yes.

“Would you be so kind as to patch me into it, for a moment?”

Another two note trill, then the sound that usually heralds you should leave a message in a voicemail.

“Perhaps I was not clear enough, the last time we spoke.” You drawl, and in your voice is cold fury and disdain. There are sounds of startled movement from the stairs. “Allow me to clarify.”

Metal really is a horrible building material - the boots of anyone who is coming ring with such finality as they run to meet their deaths. A line of those you take for goons, pale-faced and unsteady and armed with automatic weaponry you know is stolen.

Your voice doesn’t waver, doesn’t change. Each word is delivered with gravitas and perfect diction. “Thou hast fucked around.”

You take several steps forwards into the room, your cape billowing behind you. The empty black blank of your helmet offers no reprieve or indication of humanity - only their own reflections.

“Thou shalt find out.”

Thunder shakes the sky - and the goons open fire.

—-

How do you keep a shadowmancer from killing you?

Well, that depends on how you define a shadow.

Must it be pure, pitch darkness? In that case, arrange for sufficient lighting, and they will be powerless.

Must it be a living thing’s shadow? Lure them into a trap, provide sufficient lighting, no living shadow to work from.

But can it be a half-shadow? If so, sufficient lighting becomes a problem. One need only cup their hand to create a negative space within the light, and draw a shadow from there. A bundle of a cape edge. The hollow of one boot.

And speaking of hollows - if a shadow is simply where the light isn’t, what, then, of a body’s hollows? The spaces in the mouth, the lungs, the small pockets inside various cavities. The slim space between brain and skull. Are those shadows?

Because if they are, a shadowmancer does not need external shadows to kill you.

And how do you keep a shadowmancer like that from coming to kill you?

Short answer: you don’t.

—-

You don't bother to count your kills. The ticker on that particular statistic is long broken, and you will not linger here. You grant them the mercy you have to give, and make things quick.

It takes you less than thirty seconds to go from staring down a wall of automatic rifle barrels to stepping over corpses, and up the stairs.

About halfway up the first level, the air shifts.

You pause, and when no immediate strike is forthcoming, you turn. "You do not have so many opportunities available to you that you can afford to waste an opening like that." You chide.

Jester is flushed, their breathing heavy. They stand where you were seconds earlier, and stare at the room, and then up at you.

"What did you do to Dymania?" They ask, and you see the edge of desperation in their eyes.

You decide that this is a lesson that can only be truly taught once. "A better question." You say thoughtfully, "Would be what I did to Ciaran."

At the mention of their brother's name, you watch Jester's face go through a variety of emotional contortions. You wouldn't bother to name all of the shades, but 'terror' features predominantly among them.

To Jester's credit, they learn quickly. The next time they teleport, there is no more pretense of talking.

---

In the rooms above you, you cannot see it for yourself, but you will learn later that Dymania is paralyzed. They lie on the floor, in the room crafted for them to get the most from their gifts. Overloaded with a thousand potential futures, each only a maddeningly small difference from the next, they occasionally shout or spasm.

In the room above them, Minerva has finally found an opening. She is trailing more goons, there is a bullet in her shoulder, and her leg is still not completely healed, but she manages to reach the rainwater, and that is all that she needs.

On the same level, down the hall, Alexandria is no longer held in check by her mother's captivity. They far underestimated her strength, and she has broken the bonds on herself and several others. When someone tries to enter the room, she takes the door off of its hinges and literally sweeps a path clear for the other hostages to flee.

Outside, Rosie is sitting on a chunk of concrete rubble, talking to a little boy who has no idea there are four others hidden in the area around him, ready to strike anyone else who approaches.

And a single figure hurtles through the sky, with no way to know that he is already too late.

---

You probably could've ended the fight with Jester much sooner, but... okay, so you were maybe having some fun with it.

Not because he was so clearly distressed, mind, just because how often did you really get to brawl with someone? No super strength, no weapons, no summoned spouts of fire, just a good old fashioned punch-out.

Yeah, sure, the kid teleported, but that just made it more interesting to fight him.

(You weren't sure what would happen if he solidified in a space he happened to share with, say, your arm, and you were disinclined to find out, so you had to lead your movements just enough and - well, it was harder than it sounded.)

And yes, you are furious still, but that fury was largely alleviated by doing something, and with the pieces you have set into motion, you will have to trust in the others in the building to play their parts. Also, you did promise not to kill this one, specifically.

So when he tries to gain enough momentum to blindside you by teleporting up and coming down, and you sidestep on the blood-slicked staircase, there is not a spike of shadow waiting to impale him if he does not teleport again quickly enough. When you see an opportunity to force him to carry through a motion and crack his skull into the railing, you stay your hand.

Mostly, though, you move in circles that broaden to leaps of your own, until Jester decides to try and pick up one of the guns of the dead goons.

You fold your arms as he aims at you. "Nice try."

Jester furrows his brow, the mask contorting to match. He glances at the barrel, does a doubletake, and swears. Frantic scurrying only turns up more of the same.

"I don't - what - how?" He cries, jumping from body to body for a gun that works.

"Solidified the shadows in the barrels." You lean against the railing and cross one leg over the other. You're only mildly winded.

“You can do that?” Jester cries in horror.

You hum. You aren’t entirely unsympathetic. “I can do many things.”

Jester looks up at you, something like determination in his eyes - and disappears.

When he does not reappear, trying to punch you again, you sigh. “Damn it.”

You click your way through to Rosie again. “Yeah, I overdid it. No, I’m fine. I am not that old. The roof? Fine. There better be an elevator.”

Grumbling, you find the elevator at the heart of the spire. They haven’t locked it yet - so you’ll take however many floors you can get out of it before they do.

—-

When you were younger, your mother told you about the things that made someone Great.

You can’t quite say they were stories, because they were more like… half-anecdotes, strung together on a line. But they were always meant to entertain and teach, and you could listen while you did other things.

For a long time, you thought they were all about your mother and father. She was every brave woman who thought to heal instead of breaking, every woman who drove a weapon’s blade through solid stone, every woman who adventured and every woman who stayed home.

Your father was every man who proved the truer than his enemies, who rallied others to his cause, who truly believed and in that faith called others to follow. Inspired them, rather than commanded.

And you? You were both of them. You had your mother’s adventuring and wisdom, your father’s effortless grace and pure heart. You did not need your own stories, when you could frolic in the mix of theirs, leaping from one tale to the next, an ephemeral sidekick.

Your mother never corrected you. But you learned, eventually.

Your father was never the protagonist in those stories at all.

And where did that leave you?

—-

The elevator stops about two stories up, by your reckoning, and had you been standing by the door like a dunce, you would've been pummeled by a torrent of water.

And had there not been mirrors at the back of the elevator, you might've pummeled Minerva with a torrent of shadow.

But there were, so you could see it was her from your vantage of tucked-into-the-corner, and she could see it was you as the center mirror cracked and shattered.

(You weren't sure if you should commend these young idiots for thinking of the corner tricks, or condemn them for putting in wall to floor mirrors. Really, those things shatter no matter what kind of treatment you give them.)

"Synov-" Her incredulity is cut off, as you sweep around the corner - and sweep her into a hug.

She must be exhausted, because you get away with it. She stands rigid for a moment, bracing, likely thinking you're tackling her or some other nonsense. Once it becomes clear - oh, a second or two later - that you're only wrapping your arms around her in reassurance that she's alive, some self-preservation instinct drops.

For a moment, she rests her head on your shoulder, and gently presses one arm against your back.

When she pulls away, you do too.

"I should've known you'd come for Al- Menace." She says, and her throat is raw. Smoke? Screaming? (You're going to burn this town a second time) "Had to show me up one more time."

"One day, Minerva." You say quietly, "I'm going to prove to you that my affection for you is not a trap, or some kind of proxy for your child. But for now -"

You spread your hands, summoning shadows between them. You spin them like thread, that thickens to wire, that thickens to cord, pulled taut and bulging on one end. That end clarifies - sharp edges, a wide base that narrows to a point. A replica of Athena's spear.

Minerva - Athena? - takes it, weighing its balance. She opens her mouth to say something, but you are already holding out a disc in the shape of her shield.

"The weight's wrong." She says, taking the shield.

"Shadows." You say apologetically. "Not the heaviest things. Shall we?"

Minerva clears her throat, "Menace is searching for more cells. They had a lot of people here."

You nod, and follow when she walks away. "Anyone other than Jester and Dymania I should worry about?"

Athena adjusts her shield. "Not while I'm around."

---

When you were Sunhallow's shadow, he called you 'Eclipse.'

You were not his enforcer - he did that well enough on his own. You were the spy, the assassin, a card near the bottom of a very stacked deck. An observer, time and time again.

And, as proves inevitable when someone is taught to find loopholes and make observations, they will begin to find chinks in their predecessor's armor. They will learn to ply their skills for their own gain, rather than only on instruction. It is what makes them good at what they do.

You were very good at what you did.

In all of your searching and spying, you put together several pieces. You conducted your own investigations, slipped additional questions into interrogations, took the time to talk to your targets before you killed them.

Their words painted a very different picture than the one you'd been given. They showed that your mother had not been abducted, but had left willingly. May have even opened the door. They showed that Sunhallow was not the first to claim godhood, only the most recent to become so prominent. And that not everyone, as he had claimed, recognized his inherent superiority.

Your father told you that one day, you would become Holy, as he was. The Sun would hallow your bones, bless you, and raise you to take over where he left off. But you knew what he looked like when he was lying, by then. You also knew he liked to tempt others by offering them the idea of his position, his glory. It was bait.

And the day the light finally responded to your call, you realized that you were going to have to take it.

---

When you and Athena find Menace, it's by finding the end of her trail of ducklings - nearly thirty people, milling about in varying levels of distress and shock.

Someone screamed when they caught sight of you, in your distinctive costume, and Athena with her spear and shield of shadows. You sighed, unsurprised, but didn't have time to even start trying to explain yourself before a head rose above the others. And kept rising.

Nearly flat to the ceiling, Menace shot over the heads of her flock, and hurtled into the pair of you to grab you both in a hug.

"Super-strength, super-strength, super-strength," you chant in warning, wanting to come out of this reunion with your trachea intact.

"You saw me ten minutes ago." Athena chides gently, but her heart isn't in it, and she hugs Menace back just as tightly.

“I’ve never been so happy to see a pile of garbage bags in my life.” Menace says, giving you a very careful squeeze. You have time to make an offended noise before she turns her attention back to her mother; “And you - you got shot? I specifically requested you not get shot.”

“The people.” Athena reminds her, nodding towards the shambling mass of mundanity.

“None of them got shot either.” Menace replies mulishly. When Athena sighs, she relents. “No major injuries so far, though some of them are pretty banged up - bruises, scrapes. I think I’ve gotten most of them out by now, unless there’s a basement to this place.”

Athena looks at you, and you shrug. “It would make sense that they did, but the elevator didn’t go down that far, and herding prisoners down stairs gets very annoying very quickly. If there is one, I’m betting it’s maintenance.”

The shambling mass of mundanity has been whispering since you arrived. You could wait for Menace or Athena to soothe them - but you’d rather not.

“Oh, shut up.” You tell them crossly. “If I were here to kill you all I would’ve blown up the place and been done with it. You all get to live and deal with the trauma for the rest of your sorry lives. Lucky you.”

There’s a collective gasp of shocked breath, and the nearest ones edge back from you a little more - but they do go silent.

Athena elbows you in the ribs. “Synovus does have a point about the stairs.” She says calmly. “And the elevator isn’t safe. Have we found an alternative exit?”

Menace sighs, “I could punch through an outer wall and carry people down?”

Athena considers the group size. “That would take some time. And we would be vulnerable during movement.”

“The ground level is secure.” You mention idly.

“Which doesn’t rule out snipers or the two remaining supervillains.” Menace points out.

“You.” Athena says suddenly. “You can make discs of shadow, and you can hold them. You can make one wide enough for them to all stand on, so they can be lowered down together.”

You could also make a slide that curves around the spire all the way down, but you don’t say that part out loud.

“I could.” You concede. “You would be putting their lives in my hands.”

“If you wanted them dead, you’d have killed them by now.” Athena counters. “So time to live up to not wanting them dead.”

You survey the crowd. You have an image to maintain - or, well , partially reconstruct.

“Fine.” You drawl, and stalk closer to the group. You shoo them all to one side, and rest your fingertips on one wall, feeling for the vibration of the rain. “This is the outer wall?”

Athena breaks off reassuring the people to call to you, “It is. Maybe four, five inches?”

You resist the urge to make inappropriate jokes. Someone in the crowd does not. Someone else smacks them on the back of the head. The first person mutters something about stress responses and apologizes.

Experimentally, you lodge a spear of shadow into the wall. It sticks until you dismiss it. You can see a faint gleam of pale light through it.

Well. Shit. Shadows are very adaptable things, but they don’t cut very well - they’re more brute force and occasionally piercing.

Which means you’re going to have to use the light.

Whatever. At least it’s not made of concrete.

You don’t bother to explain yourself to your companions, not with an audience present. Instead, you raise a wall of shadow between yourself and them, thick enough to block the glow of radiance when you summon light to your hands.

A beam would be easiest, here - but it would also be like setting off a beacon. The most subtle would be to use the light as a knife, as you normally do when you have to use it, but that would take forever. So… laser cutter?

You use three sharp, long lines to hack off either side and a new roof line, giving it a shove near the top with your shadows so it doesn’t try and fall inward. Another slash at the bottom cuts it loose. The chunk of metal falls away with a relatively soft screech (which is, still deafening) and drops with the rest of the rain, and your shadow wall.

You reveal yourself again, already turned to face the group, with the rain now drumming on the metal flooring (you may have erred on the side of excess for height) and the wind blowing your cape out dramatically. You gesture to the open air, shadows already weaving a basket to hold a large group of people.

They cannot see you smiling, but they can hear it. It is not a polite or joyful smile. “Your chariot awaits, dear friends.”

—-

No one thanks you for putting a raised edge on the platform.

Menace would’ve caught them, of course, but still. Did your efforts to save them from falling mean nothing?

Had circumstances been different, you might’ve complained about that to Athena, loudly and at length. Instead, you stayed quiet, and kept time in your head as you lowered a herd of sheeple to solid ground.

You stay up in the spire, though Athena rides with them to reassure them, and Menace drifts alongside. Once they’re down, she argues with her mother for a moment. Then she flies back up, carrying Athena.

“Refused to stay put for her injuries?” You remark, having found a chair to lounge in. That actually did take a significant amount of energy, though you’ve done everything you can to disguise that.

“Yes.” Menace grumbles.

“I told her I’d climb the spire by hand if I had to.” Athena says stubbornly. To Menace, she said firmly, “I let someone slow me from coming to you once. Never again.”

“You two are going to have the strangest rivalry.” You said admiringly, to break the tension. Both of them turn to you instead, and even if Menace’s head is covered, you’d bet their expressions are identical.

You raise your hands in mock-warding - and pause as the air shifts again.

There are two people in the hallway. One, the bruised-but-mobile Jester. The other, slumped against a wall and looking much worse for wear, is Dymania.

Menace and Athena both tense, drawing a step closer together in preparation for a fight. You cross one leg over the other at the knee.

"You know, you two are terrible hosts." You call, casually flicking a crease from your costume. "Leaving us alone for so long? Incredibly ru-"

"Shut UP Synovus!" Jester yells, near manic. You can see the whites of his eyes all the way around, even under the mask. "You weren't even supposed to be here! You're retired!"

"Someone doesn't check Twitter." You remark, amused.

"I - What?" Aw, you've genuinely thrown this one for a loop.

"Twitter." You repeat. "I tweeted 'nvm, comma, I'm back' an hour before I arrived." You enunciate each letter in 'nvm' instead of approximating a word.

Athena sighs, "Synovus."

"Yes, honored colleague?"

"Shut up."

You respond by rising, and giving an overexaggerated bow. Dymania yelps and throws themself to one side - because as you straighten, you throw lances of shadow at both of them.

---

The fight really didn't take long.

You're pretty sure the only reason they got Athena or Menace was by threatening the hostages they already had, and you could've wiped the floor with them on your own. You still didn't kill Jester, and even helped cushion a hit he took from Menace.

(The hit wouldn't have hurt him as much as the rebound against the floor. Menace would've been terribly upset to have accidentally killed him.)

(Though, if she or Athena killed him, you wouldn't be in violation of your promise.)

(But - no. You wouldn't do that to either of them. Not now.)

The end of things really came when Athena managed to pin Jester against the wall with her good arm, and you'd managed to herd Dymania away from his companion. He stumbled back again, and wound up crossing into the area where the rain was still falling.

(Lightening up, you noticed. Better finish things quickly then.)

The change was immediately noticeable. Dymania stiffened, clutching at their head with both hands, and tried to run forward out of the rain - only to find you there, walking them back to the edge.

"H- how did-" They cut themselves off, and you nodded.

"How did I know about the rain?" You asked politely, as much taking pity on them as taking the chance to grandstand. "The Silent Ones told me. You know how they feel about Clairvoyants who don't conform."

It isn't really possible for more color to drain from Dymania's face. Instead, they drop to their knees with a groan.

"What?" Menace asks, looking up from where she's trying to convince Athena to trade off with her.

You raise your voice a little, so she can hear you better. "The Silent Ones. An enclave of Clairvoyants, hidden from most of the world. When two clairvoyants cross each others paths, it's like putting two mirrors opposite each other. Endless reflections. They hate it."

You watch Dymania try to stagger back to their feet, and feel no pity. "That includes if one shows up in their own futures. It gives them headaches at best. Sometimes they wind up in comas, if they're particularly unprepared. So one of them eventually hit upon the idea - what if all of them lived together?"

You glance towards the sky, calculating how long you have left. "They live according to a very strict schedule, and interact as little as possible with each other. If everyone does exactly as ordered, there's no need to make predictions. No traps to fall into. They don't force others into it, but they certainly don't like it when someone has plans that conflict with their order either."

"You mean like, someone leaving?" Menace asks, having managed to take half-ownership of keeping Jester pinned. She sounds offended on their behalf.

"No, they can leave whenever they want. Its the ones who want to do something about their enclave - like find it, exploit it, or destroy it - that find themselves suddenly overwhelmed with bad luck. And the chaos of the rest of the world is often too much for them, once they've gotten used to the enclave."

"So its... more like a sanctuary?"

"Yes. And they know you, Dymania. They know that you cannot stand the rain."

"Make it stop." Dymania begs you. You aren't even sure they've been following the conversation - their eyes are unfocused, trying not to see or feel the falling water around them.

"Clairvoyants, as a whole, despise rain." You mention idly. You have not moved. "The randomness involved in where each drop falls - it ties them up into knots. Worse, if they predict how the droplets will feel on their skin. Some of them can filter it out, like white noise - Dymania is not one of them."

You tilt your head, and then turn back to the others. "Very well. Let's go."

Like you know they will, Dymania gives a cry of desperation. They push, once more, to try and make it to their feet. And at the point where their future diverges, they try to draw the handgun Jester had forced them to carry.

You pivot, and in one smooth motion, kick Dymania out of the spire.

"Dy!" Jester cries.

"Yes." You muse. "I suppose they will."

---

The fight goes out of Jester, after Dymania falls.

The three of you drag him up to the roof, at your direction. Once the skies clear, Heather will bring the plane back around, and all of you can reach it easily enough from the highest point. Plus, at this point, it's less stairs to go up than it would be to go back down, and you really don't want to do the disc trick again.

It turns out the roof is less a flat roof, and more of a ring near the top. You notice Menace shudder as you reach it, and tilt your head at her in question.

"They threw hostages over the railing here." She says quietly.

You nod. This explains why neither Menace or Athena protested much, at what you'd done. But you don't protest or labor the point either - instead, you clasp her arm in sympathy, and look up at where the sky is clearing.

"How did you time that so well?" Athena murmurs when you come up alongside her.

"Weatherwitch owed me a favor." You reply casually.

"Weather witch. The Silent Ones. Your council. What else is there, some kind of... Villain union?"

"Well..." You admit, "there is... something of a minion union, though I stay out of their business, mostly."

Athena sighs.

You almost take your helmet off to grin at her. You probably would've, but then you hear Menace, and the sudden tension in her voice as she says, "Mom?"

You both turn immediately - and see Legionnaire, hovering at the railing, and staring at you.

---

You didn't forget Legionnaire existed.

No, really, you didn't - but you did try really hard not to let yourself think about it for too long.

When you had named him (and Athena) as your rivals, you had made your choice based on what you thought was a genuine good in them. They did not hesitate until the cameras arrived. They did not extort or demand. They took some care for collateral when lives were involved, if not property, and they regularly showed up to help with rescue or relief efforts when they could.

And there was the fact that they had a kid.

You'd fought them enough times to know that they didn't mess around to grandstand or showboat. They maintained secret identities fairly well. They weren't like Dazzler, who would try and seduce villains in the hopes of fucking them back to civility. They weren't like White Shadow, who was always high enough when you fought them that you weren't sure they knew what was happening.

The closest, you thought, to real heroes.

So when you'd seen those bruises on Alexandria's arm, that first day, you'd been... surprised. You didn't exactly have the highest opinion of humanity in general, and you'd learned too many early lessons about pedestals and how much they hurt when they fell over on top of someone. But you had expected better of them.

From your observations, conversations with Minerva and Alexandria, and the things they didn't say, you'd pieced together a lot over the last year. That Minerva did have her flaws, but was trying to be better. That her healing factor meant that any bruises or sprains would've healed long before anyone else saw them. That Alex, though wary of Minerva sometimes, had still talked about her when she wasn't around. She almost never mentioned her father, and when she did, it was only questions about how you knew him, or in conjunction with her mother.

You had been worried, at first, that you were conflating him with Sunhallow. A man claiming holiness (the Sun made him Hallow, the Son of Mars) with strength and a following (A cult, a fanbase) and who coerced their child into working for them (Eclipse, Mercury) and who harmed them-

So you hadn't let yourself go out to find him and have it out. On better days, you admitted it wasn't your fight to have - it was Minerva and Alexandria's, if they wanted it. On worse days, you weighed the benefits and consequences of hiring someone versus doing it yourself.

And you had kept a degree of surveillance on him, just in case. Nothing in depth - you didn't know what brand of frozen pizza he bought or his Netflix account, you didn't care if he still had a job or had lost it - but just. General locations. Whether he went out in costume. You had Legionnaire watched, and not Albion.

But sometimes those lines blurred - so you knew that he had started drinking more heavily when Alexandria left. More again, after Minerva. The last two months, he'd seemed to be getting better, but he had stopped going out in costume.

And now he was here, and you had no idea what to do.

---

For what feels like an eternity, you all stand in silence. Athena had been startled into dropping Jester, automatically readying her shield and then stilling herself before she could aggravate her bullet wound any more.

(She still held the shadow set you'd given her, you hadn't found her usual weapons in the spire, though you had personally looked.)

You grabbed Jester, who was glancing back and forth with confused interest.

"Say a word, or try and teleport away." You tell him quietly, head next to theirs. "And I will make Dymania's death seem like a kindness."

Judging by the way he nods, slowly, he also remembers that you technically have Ciaran.

And Menace - oh, Menace - has lifted from the ground, hovering, with her hands curled into fists.

It's Legionnaire who breaks the silence first; "You inherited my powers."

He sounds... proud. Tired. His voice is rough. He's looking at Alexandria as though she is a prized pupil who has shown an aptitude in his favorite subject.

(He doesn't deserve that pride.)

"I have my own powers." Menace corrects him, her voice clipped and short.

Legionnaire moves his hands gently in a faint 'settle down' motion. "Of course." He says quietly. "All yours, Alex."

"Why are you here, Albion." Minerva demands. She's pulled off the Athena mask, and glares him down as he looks her over. Notes the shadow-weapons, the injury.

"I saw the broadcast." He explains, gesturing to the spire. "I thought - you needed help."

"We're fine." Minerva says flatly.

It's hard to shift uncomfortably when you're flying, but Legionnaire manages it - as his gaze slides to you.

"Oh, come off it." Minerva follows his gaze, and now sounds heated.

"Can you really blame me, Athena?" He says, and sounds beseeching. "This all started with him, when he took Alex -"

"They." Menace interrupts, nearly strangling the word. "Synovus is 'they,' not 'he.'"

Legionnaire bites his lip, flicks his eyes away, then back again. "Fine." He says, though his calm is less even now. "They took you, Alex. And then they took your mother, too."

"I left of my own free will." Alexandria has risen now, a little further up. Not quite even with her father. "And my name. Is Alexandria."

There's a certain exasperation in Legionnaire's expression that he can't hide fast enough. Changing tactics, he looks to Minerva again instead, "Athena, think about it. Synovus changed you! You know they used to say he - she, they - had manipulative powers. They've kept you isolated, and now let you get captured just so they can sweep in to save you-"

"Synovus." Minerva grits her teeth, "Did not make me move several hundred miles inland, away from my family and the source of my powers. Synovus did not discourage me from getting involved in the community, in case I accidentally gave our identities away. Synovus-" She has taken a step forward, with each line, and the tip of her spear is slowly lowering to point towards him. "-did not hurt my daughter."

Legionnaire exhales, "So did you." He points out. "It happens, it's not anything unusual - its how kids learn! I-"

"I am ashamed of that!" Minerva shouts. Alexandria has sunk an inch. "We were supposed to be better, Albion! We talked about trying to save cities, to save the world, and we couldn't even save our own daughter from ourselves!"

"No one is perfect." Legionnaire deflects.

Minerva points her spear at you. You do not flinch. "I have lived with them for over a month." She says, with a steely calm. "I have seen those who live with them. I have seen how they are with Alexandria." There's a subtle emphasis on the last half of the name, a pointed correction. "They provided me medical care without blinking, and though I have yelled and raged and attacked them, they have never raised a hand against me while I was in their house."

Legionnaire scoffs, "So Synovus learned to play nice for a while, that's not -"

"It's more than you ever managed." Minerva says with venom.

There is a silence then, deep enough that the entire spire could fall into it and further, swallowed by a negative space that never ends.

Finally, you speak again, but only when you are certain your voice is under your control. "The plane is here." You say calmly. "Someone should make sure this one-" You jostle Jester, "-is received properly."

There is a two-fold offer in the statement, and one you know both Minerva and Alexandria hear.

Tell me to leave, and I will.

Because you will, if they want. You are party to this story, but it is not yours. It will hurt you, and you will worry, but you know about closure and what it can take to find it.

Tell me to take care of him, and I will.

One more death will not be a burden on your conscious. Not when you feel responsible that he was allowed to continue - that you have protected this man for years. Logically, you know that's ridiculous. It isn't necessarily Logic that wants to kill him.

This pause is shorter, lighter. Minerva whirls on you, searching. You wait for the protest - that she can fight her own battles, and you should fuck off before she comes to her senses and fights you again, a villain at the scene of a crime.

Instead, she glances at Alexandria, who is still hovering, still staring at Legionnaire.

"Alexandria." Minerva says softly. "Our priority is still the people."

"Yes." She responds automatically. It takes her another moment to move, to shake herself out of her paralysis. "I can carry you both."

You know that does not include you.

"Athena, don't -" Legionnaire starts.

You ignore him, and look at Alexandria. "Menace." You address her by the title, helping knock her out of it a little more.

(Yes, remember - you want to tell her, - you are more than his daughter. You have stood in a room full of powerful people and held your own, and more.)

"Lady Synovus." Menace returns. You know it's specifically to spite Legionnaire's earlier assumption that you were male.

"As Legionnaire is your rival -" You ignore Legionnaire again when he starts to interrupt, raising your voice to talk over him, "- it is your jurisdiction as to what measures I can take."

The formality is a shield. You hate to ask this of her, to force her to say - but even if you weren't bound by the rules you'd created, you need to know. If she asks you not to hurt him... well, you'll try.

Alexandria pauses, watching Minerva. Minerva looks back at her, meeting her gaze through the helmet.

"It's your decision," She tells her daughter, "But I will stand by you, no matter what you decide."

"What's this about 'rivals'?" Legionnaire tries to interject.

Alexandria stiffens, as though she might yell at him, and you brace yourself to have to intervene - but instead, she just reaches up and removes her helmet.

Alexandria looks her father square in the face as she says, "Lady Synovus, I give you leave to do as you feel appropriate. No restrictions."

"You are certain?" You ask, because you want her to be sure.

"I am." Her voice doesn't waver.

Minerva takes Jester from you, frowning to remember that he's here, and he's overheard all of this. Alexandria drifts backwards, to gently gather both her mother and the defeated villain into her arms, before going up.

Legionnaire tries to follow - but can't, as you've already got a shadow wrapped around his ankles.

You slam him back down with relish.

"No." You say, your voice chilly, "You are not invited into their lives anymore, Legionnaire."

"And you get to decide that?" Legionnaire demands, trying to slice through your shadow. You tighten its grip in answer. "You get to decide I can't talk to my wife, my son-"

You are glad Alexandria is out of earshot.

"You have never had a son." You say harshly. "And Minerva is not yours in any capacity. You have had months to figure this out, Albion. Time's up."

He seizes on your word choice. "Figure it out - so you did do something! You took my family from me!"

The words, similar to the ones Minerva had yelled at you only a day earlier, make a sheltered part of you ache. But, you remind yourself, she did defend you. She trusts you.

Granted, looking at Legionnaire, still trying to find a way out of your shadows, you admit the bar is pretty fucking low.

"You did that yourself, you idiot." You hiss. "You drove Minerva away. You refused to accept your child. I am not the reason your life is terrible, Albion. You are."

He straightens, and you recognize the arrogance that returns to his posture. He still thinks you're trying to fool him. That he is correct. And he will not be swayed.

"Say whatever you want, Synovus!" He yells, "You won't keep me from the ones I -"

This time, it's a shadow that shuts him up - drawn out of his throat and coiled to serve as a gag. His eyes bulge. He did not know you could do this.

With a flick of your wrists, the shadows holding him down are gone - and replaced with chains of brilliant light. They drag him down, relentless, scorching the skin they touch, until he is pinned to the floor.

"I believe." You say, as you pick your way over to him. "That the missing word there is 'love.' But I am going to choose to believe you were going to say something else - because everything you have said today, Albion? It is not love."

You stare down at him. "You came here. You knew where they were. The lives in peril were of no consequence until it was Minerva and Alexandria. You did not come to save them. You came to try and make them listen to you again."

He may not be listening, but it doesn't matter. You do love a good monologue, and this particular serpent has been coiled in your chest for a long time.

"That isn't love, Albion." You tell him softly. "It's obsession. Possession. You don't respect them enough to consider that they have opinions and wants different than your own. And they deserve so much better."

You pick up the spear that he'd been forced to drop, and twirl it idly. He redoubles his attempts to struggle, to escape - he's always been so strong, but you have always been stronger.

You are very tempted to cast your powers aside here. You want the satisfaction of feeling his bones break beneath your hands, the visceral feeling of grabbing and tearing away. You want to make him suffer.

You want to look for a key that will give Alexandria and Minerva their happiness back.

But you know that those keys don't exist, by now. And you do not need to make yourself more of a monster to kill this one.

"They did love you, at one point." You muse. "And in another world - who knows? Maybe that would have been enough."

You plant one foot on his chest, and lean in. The tip of the spear rests on his throat, and finally, Legionnaire goes still.

"But redemption's never been my style." You hiss.

You slide the spear home.

---

A week after you return to business, you lead Alexandria and Minerva to a secluded part of the island.

The beach is shallow here, particularly at low tide. You and Minerva slosh through water up to your shins. Alexandria drifts over instead, occasionally splashing her feet in the water.

"Not much further." You assure them, though neither has shown signs of complaining. You are nervous. This place is not sacred to you, but it still has power over you.

There is a sea cave of black rock, out of the way. It does not tunnel into the rest of the island very far - a few hundred yards, that's all. A lava tunnel once, long since collapsed, and the inside filled by now with sand.

You pause at the entrance, staring at the void of perfect shadow. You love the shadows - they have always protected you, and you know this one does too - but you do not want to dive into its embrace. You want to run from it.

You clear your throat, "In here."

Carefully, you summon a small globe of light. The three of you (okay, the two of you) pick your way carefully through the cave's unsteady footing, until eventually the ground rises, becoming smooth stone instead of rocky black sand.

There isn't much ornamentation, here. Just a marker, in the form of a rock, carved with the sigil of the sun.

Minerva stiffens. "That's -"

"Sunhallow's sigil." You croak, and clear your throat again. "Yes. This is - this is his grave."

You stand in silence for a few moments - or at least, if Minerva or Alexandria speak, you don't hear them. You're staring sightlessly at the small obelisk you'd carved, so that you would always know if someone tampered with the body.

You still hate him, decades later.

You still sometimes wonder if you were wrong.

A touch at your shoulder startles you back to the present. Its Alexandria, who is looking at you, and not the grave. "You said that this was your father's grave."

"It is." You make yourself respond, then gesture to the front of the cave. "We should - the water gets higher, later, and I know we don't necessarily have to worry about that, but -"

"But you don't want to be here anymore." Minerva finishes. "That's okay, Synovus. We don't have to stay."

You are silent, until you are back out in the sunlight. It should be the opposite, you think - the sunlight was always his, the shadows were yours. Now he has a lair of shadows, and you seek refuge in the light? You'd accuse the universe of irony, if you hadn't brought this upon yourself.

You are not in costume, today. None of you are. It means that they can see the expressions you have lost control over, as you pace back and forth beneath a clump of palm trees, near the shoreline.

"Sunhallow was my father." You say finally, abruptly. Your shoulders drop. The tension - the weight - isn't gone, but... saying the words didn't hurt. Your throat didn't swell closed before you could force them out. You didn't deflect, equivocate, or dodge.

"Sunhallow was my father." You repeat.

"We gathered that." Minerva says, and you are grateful for her dryness.

"I-" You draw in a breath, and turn, shrugging out of the light wrap you wear. Beneath it is a backless shirt that Alexandria had insisted you buy, for one of your more feminine days. You hadn't had the heart to tell her you never exposed that much skin.

Because on your back, centered on your spine and between your shoulder blades, is a large tattoo of the same sigil. The ink is stark against your skin even before it begins to change. Touched by the sunlight, from the center out, the ink turns a glittering gold.

Hallowed, by the Sun.

You can tell from Alexandria's 'woah' that she thinks it's cool as hell. You can tell by Minerva's sharp inhalation that she knows what it means.

You pull the wrap back into place, and turn to face them.

"I killed him." You say, and you speak quickly, as though someone is going to cut you off and you will never get a chance to tell this story, the one you have never told anyone before. "I worked for him for years, as an informant and spy, but I was too good at what he taught me. I learned things he didn't want me to know - didn't want anyone to know - and I - I learned when he lied. I learned about, about the purges."

When Sunhallow was challenged, he had taken to targeting groups of people. Heroes, villains. Towns. It was purification by sunlight, in great quantities - Hallowing the place, with the Sun.

He did not leave survivors.

You swallow, "He was healed by sunlight." You explain, "So I smothered him with shadows."

You knew he would never let anyone into his rooms after nightfall, when he was most vulnerable. So you'd killed him at noon, when the sun was highest, and you'd have had to be stupid to attack him.

You did sometimes do very stupid things.

"I killed him, and then I packed his body into a trunk, and I brought it out here, and I buried it in the cave where the sun will never touch it again." You are surprised, a little, at the vitriol in your voice.

You hadn't taken any chances, moving him. You didn't know if he could come back from the dead, but you didn't want to find out.

Minerva is staring at you with something like wonder.

"It was you." She said softly. "You were the Eclipse."

You nod, exhaling. "The Heresiarch Heir." You echo glumly. "Patricide. Oathbreaker. Murderer. And coward, besides."

Minerva pushes off the tree she's been leaning on, and reaches for you. "Brave." She says firmly. "No one could stop Sunhallow - but you, you couldn't have been more than twenty when he died."

You laugh, short and hollow. "Sixteen."

Minerva blinks. "I couldn't have done such a thing." She admits. "How...?"

You blow out another breath. "He killed my mother." You say, staring into the middle distance again. "And made me kill Willowsteel."

You do not elaborate on how long it took, or how you knew it had been Sunhallow's hand that had killed your mother. Some things you were not ready to talk about, even now.

"Willowsteel...." Minerva muses, "They had a metallurgy ability, didn't they? Or was it magnetics?"

You still have perfect recall of that list. "Metallurgy, with a particular talent for shaping weaponry." You respond automatically.

And you had known that, even when they'd put a steel knife in your hands. And he had known it too, as you stood over him. But in his eyes, you had seen something like a horrified acceptance.

You had been a child. He could've easily overpowered you, or turned the blade aside. For a long time, you had told yourself that it was because he knew Sunhallow would kill him anyway, and he wanted it to be over.

The day you buried Sunhallow, sitting outside the cavern and watching the sun rise again, you'd forced yourself to admit it - that Willowsteel hadn't killed you, because he would rather have died than hurt you.

Truer than his enemies. A man with faith and belief, even if it wasn't in a god, or a man who pretended to be one.

You couldn't plant willow trees on the island - the climate didn't agree with them - but on one of the estates Sunhallow had once owned, there was a grove of them, in a perfect ring around a monument to all of those lost in the purges.

You spend the rest of the afternoon telling stories, when you could stomach it. They asked questions, sometimes. About your mother, about how you'd scraped yourself back together as a villain under your own power. How you'd drawn the others together, forced some degree of order from chaos in the cape-population explosion after the purges had ended.

You knew that both of them understood.

---

Days later, you are waiting in a room decorated in pure white.

The room is quiet, and you can hear the distant roar of an ocean that is not yours. You sit in the dark, one leg crossed over the other, pretending not to be bored.

When the light flips on, the woman in the doorway stiffens, but tries not to show any other signs of distress.

You lift your head, the black shine of your helmet giving her nothing to work with. Another dark-clad figure waits to one side, a third (though in blue rather than black) is keeping watch outside. She has not noticed them yet, you think. She will be furious about that.

"My dear Tallflawes." You drawl, leaning forward. "We need to discuss some of your more recent... investments."

[And so we come to the end (for now!) - thank you to everyone who's made it this far, whether you've been here since the beginning or are only recently catching up. My goal was to finish this during Pride Month, and I have succeeded! Sum total, VNR is just over 34k words, with Call Me Menace sitting at about 8.5k.]

[And a shoutout to 'daddythedragon' and Daphanae for correctly guessing the show Alexandria was watching last time, which was Murder, She Wrote! (Columbo and Magnum P.I. were good guesses too).]

[violet211221]

Fireworks | Bang Chan

♡ request open: feel free to send me your requests

♡ pairing: bang chan x reader

♡ genre: stable relationship, fluff

♡ word count: 3.4k

♡ short summary: your boyfriend Chan couldn't make it to a New Year's party, but he's got a surprise for you

♡ a/n: this one shot is based on this fake text as inspiration

♡ support my work - if you want to directly support my writing, you can buy me a coffee here

"I'm so sorry, baby. I haven't finished the schedule yet." 

You look sadly at the messages that appear on your phone screen. You can practically see Chan quickly typing on his phone, huddled in a corner where no one can see him.  

"I don't know when I'll get there tonight. I'm so sorry." he writes you again.  

You look at the clock. It's 3:22pm, the last day of the year. You and Chan were supposed to go to the New Year's party of a small group of mutual friends, one of the rare occasions when you two show off as a couple. It's still early, right? You two have to be there at 7pm, there's still a chance that Chan will arrive early enough to...  

"But you can go there if you want. You don't have to miss the fun because of me. I promise I'll try to get there as soon as I can." 

Your hope is gone. Your boyfriend just subtly let you know that there was no way he was going to catch this party. And without him, there is no fun for you.  

"Y/n?"  

"I'm here, Channie. I just got out of the shower.” you type back. 

You hate to lie to him, but you don't want to make him feel bad. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you decided to go out with this man. You knew from the beginning how full is his schedule and you were never really upset when he canceled a date. The truth is that you love him so much that you always support his career.  

"Don't worry, love. I will stay at home and wait for you." 

"Are you sure about this?" comes his answer.  

"Very sure. We can have our own party."  

You think for a few moments.  

"Please don't feel guilty. I'm really not mad at all." you add quickly, before he has a chance to type anything.  

And this is the truth. You're not upset that you two don't make it to the party anymore. You are angry because you know Chan feels guilty. You know that every time he has to cancel plans with you, a small piece of his heart breaks and falls. And you would do anything to protect Chan's heart.  

 "I'm a bad boyfriend, right?" he asks you.  

That's exactly what you feared the most. Chan is the best boyfriend you've ever had. Damn, Chan is the best boyfriend anyone could ever have. He is always kind and tender with you, always dedicated to you and your needs. Yes, he often cancels dates with you, but he always makes sure to make up for it. In fact, you are extremely proud of all the work he puts in. You have never met a person as hardworking as Chan. Work makes him feel happy and fulfilled, and you can only be happy when his career blooming right in front of your eyes. 

"Don't be so hard with yourself, my love. You always try to take care of all of us. I could never consider you a bad boyfriend. You are the best lover and the most responsible person I know."  

Chan's answer comes after a minute.  

"I think I should be grateful to have you, baby. I should go now. I'll write you later. I love you."  

You type back that you love him too, then leave the phone on the table. Considering that Chan will come home late, you assume that he will be tired and hungry , so you go cook something. Like any ordinary Sunday night.  

Your phone remains silent for several hours until, finally, your lover's name appears on the screen.  

"Put that cute dress on. I'll come pick you up in ten minutes." 

You look at the clock and notice that it's not long until 11pm.  

"But Channie, isn't it too late to go to the party?"  

"You trust me?" 

What kind of question is this? You have so much trust in him that you left your life on this man's hands. 

"Always, Bangbang."

"Then put that dress on you and wait for me. I'll be right there right now. I have a surprise 👀"

You leave him on "seen" and run to do what he asked you to do. You practically throw your clothes off on the fly and you really hear the closet door crack when you open it with a little too much force. You take the purple and shiny dress off the hanger, you put it on and then you rush to the mirror. You don't have time for a new make-up, so all you can do is touch up the simple one you had on during the day. You had just pulled your hair out of your ponytail and were running your hand through it repeatedly to give it some volume when you received another text from Chan.  

"I'll wait for you in the parking lot, right next to your car."  

You don't know why, but your heart starts beating faster. You don't waste time. You put on your shoes and coat and head to the elevator. You can't help but wonder what Chan is planning. Judging by the fact that he is waiting for you in the parking lot of the residential block where you two recently moved, it means he plans to use your car, not just use it as a landmark for you. Which can only mean that he is preparing something really special. Most of the time, you two use the safe company car.  

Because you've never been one to handle surprises well, you keep thinking about it as you make your way from the elevator to the car. But all your thoughts disappear the moment you see Chan.  

He still wears the clothes he had on during his program. His black hair is neatly combed and his bangs are up, even if a few strands fall on his forehead from the effort he put in during the day. He is so handsome and you can swear he looks like a prince. Now not only is your heart beating faster, but it has practically skipped a few beats.  

He smiles tenderly when he sees you and opens his arms to you, and you can't help but run towards him. His strong arms catch you when you throw yourself at his chest. Chan embraces your waist. He picks you up off the ground, spinning around with you a few times while you wrap your arms around his neck and giggle.  

"I missed you so much, baby." he whispers to you with his face hidden in your hair.  

He puts you down, then takes you by the hand, leading you to the passenger seat of the car. You would like to tell him that you missed him too, to kiss him and never let him go from your arms. But you don't get to do any of these things because Chan has already opened the door, signaling you to get in the car.  

"We have to hurry. We don't have much time left."  

 You listen to him without saying anything more. You get into the car, and he closes the door and runs to the driver's seat. Your lover gets into the car and starts it without saying another word, paying attention to the exit from the parking lot.  

"Where are we going?" you asked him curiously.  

"Right now it's a secret."  

"Why are you being so secretive today?" you say while practically pouting and kicking your feets on the floor of the car.  

Chan laughs at your reaction. He always manages to bring out the childish part in you. Maybe because he makes you feel so safe? You don't know, but you don't complain at all. This makes Chan laugh, and you are absolutely in love with his laugh.  

The boy looks for your hand, entwines his fingers with yours, then brings your hand to his lips. He kisses you softly, then quickly looks at you.  

"You have to wait a little longer. You'll find out right away where we're going, okay? But I promise you'll like it." he assures you.  

"So we're not going to the party." 

"You said we could have our own party." He reminds you as his eyebrow rises provocatively, a smirk playing at the corner of his full lips.  

Your stomach tightens in anticipation. The place where his lips touched your hand still burns, and you swear Chan can hear your heart beating. You two have been together for a long time, but he still has that effect on you. And something tells you that he will always have it.  

"I hate you." you tell him jokingly, while you look out the window at the city that you quickly leave behind.  

Chan's sweet laugh swells the inside of your car, along with your heart and the rest of your universe. 

"No, you don't." 

"Watch your step." Chan warns you, while he helps you out of the car. "Wait for me, don't take a step without me."  

You are almost at the top of a mountain. Or a bigger hill. Well, you don't know exactly where you are, but it's an uphill road. And even if Chan climbed most of the way by car, it seems that you still have to cover a portion of the road on foot. A bumpy road, full of bigger and smaller stones, not suitable for your high heels. So you listen to him because the last thing you want is a broken leg and a visit to the hospital on New Year's Eve.  

Chan makes sure the car is stopped and the doors locked, then he comes to you.  

"Where we are? And what are we doing here?" you ask him again.  

You look at your boyfriend as he can his phone from his pants pocket, looking briefly at the clock display.  

"You will find out immediately. Come up." he answers you, then lifts you up in his arms easily. He starts with you up the road, cold steam coming out of his mouth. 

It really is much colder than it was in the city, but you being like this, pressed against Chan's chest and his arms around you, his warmth surrounds you immediately.  

"You're just not going to walk with me like this all the way." you say slowly.  

"Actually, that's exactly what I plan to do. There's no way I'm letting you walk alone." he tells you, looking at your shoes."

"But I'm heavy.", you complain.  

"You are light as a flake, baby girl." 

You know this is not true, but Chan's power is incredible. And even if he couldn't carry you, he still would have found a way to do it. He is simply the kind of person who sacrifices himself for others. His heart is huge, and that made you fall in love with him from the first moment you met this beautiful man. 

"The road isn't that long," he continued to reassure you. "I come here sometimes and run with one of the boys, very early in the morning, when this whole area is still deserted."  

"Changbin?" you ask knowing that he and Chan are always gym partners. 

Chan laughs.  

"Binnie is not really the type who prefers to run. I come here with Minho. Sometimes Felix joins us. It helps us clear our minds and put our thoughts in order. It's the first time I talk so much when I'm on this road." 

He laughs again, the kind of laugh he has when he remembers good times he has with his boys.  

Chan really loves his friends. You don't ask for too many details about the life he has with them outside of your relationship. Chan tells you things from his own initiative. He is almost always out with them, so you always find out about a cute thing they have together. Being here, in a place that seems important to them, feels like a very intimate moment. It feels like when Chan just gave you another little piece of himself. And this is something that always amazes you. Despite the distance that is often between you, your communication is excellent and healthy. But still you have the impression that you always find out new things about him and his little universe.  

"I think the sunrise is gorgeous from here. The last time we saw a sunrise was last summer, when we went to Australia together to visit your family."  

"We can come here together. Is it good for you?" 

You nod, looking at Chan with love in your eyes. He is always willing to fulfill your every wish.  

"But I hope you will let me know in advance. I need to equip myself properly. Tonight I didn't even have time to put on make-up, plus if I had known, I would have put on something suitable."  

"You don't need makeup." your boyfriend tells you. "Besides, I planned this in a hurry and ran off schedule." 

"You did what?"  

 "I was afraid that I would not arrive until midnight. And I didn't want to miss this with you." he explained innocently.  

"Chan..." 

 "I think we're here." he interrupts you, sitting down with your feet on the ground. He supports you, making sure that you are stable on your feet.  

"Are you ok?" 

"Yes." you answer looking around you.  

You really are at the top of a hill, surrounded by trees and small rock formations. You want to face what you think is the edge of the hill, but he quickly covers your cheeks with his big hands, forcing you to stay in place.  

"Don't come back yet. Listen to me first." he begins.  

Chan moves his hands away, and the cold attacks his cheeks. You want to tell him to touch you again because nothing in the world feels better than his touch, but you remain silent because you see him notice how his red ears from the cold get redder. His lips purse into an adorable line, and he claps his hands in tiny a few times. You try to catch his eyes, but Chan avoids it by looking at your shoes. There are clear signs that he is emotional and trying to gather courage. 

"Channie? What's going on?"  

Chan clears his voice, then holds out his hands to you, waiting for you to offer yours. It looks like a little boy getting ready to kiss his girlfriend for the first time.  

"I want to apologize for bringing you here like this. It was crazy, but I have to do this." 

"Channie, this is not..." you try to say. 

"Please, let me talk or I'll run all the way back to the studio and lock myself in there." he says, even looking like he's about to do it.  

You laugh, what he makes him laugh and relax. As you laugh, you cover your mouth with your hand, but he hurries to remove it.  

"I love your smile, so let me see it, please. In fact, you are absolutely stunning. This dress looks incredible on you and deserves to be seen on a special occasion. But I messed it up, so you didn't have the chance. So I improvised." 

Chan stops for a moment, putting his hand in one of his coat pockets. He takes out a small black box from there, which almost makes your heart stop. You look at Chan in shock, eyes wide in amazement. He chuckles.  

"It's not what it seems. At least, not yet." he explains, glancing at you to see what effect his words have on you. "But it's our anniversary in a week, so I bought you something. As you well know, I will be away on tour then, so I think this is a good time to give you this."  

He opens the box, letting you see the contents. Your eyes find the most beautiful chain you've ever seen. You reach out your shaking hands for the small box, and Chan hands it to you. You touch the pendant in the shape of the moon, amazed by its beauty. Part of it is full of black crystals, while another smaller part is covered with white crystals. You lightly touch the cold and shiny crystals with your finger in the light of the real moon. These shiny things form the phase of the moon at the time you were born.  

"You like it?" Chan asks you, and you nod your head because you feel unable to speak. "Turn it over." 

You carefully turn the pendant on the other side. On the back of it you find your and Chan's initials, the date you two decided to become a couple and the phrase "I love you to the moon and back." Tears flood your eyes, and you hurry to hide your face in his coat. His arms embrace you, clinging to him and hugging you to his chest.  

"Christopher, this is absolutely gorgeous. I don't even want to know how much money you wasted on something so beautiful." you say for tears of happiness.  

Chan's hands find your cheeks again, this time wiping away your tears with his thumbs.  

"Money spent on important people is not a waste. You are not a waste, you never will be. The money can be brought back, but what you give me is absolutely priceless." he speaks as he carefully removes the chain from the small box. He leans over you a little to put it around your neck, while you help him by holding your hair up with shaking hands.  

Chan carefully places the moon pendant at the base of the space between your breasts, then places a tender kiss on your forehead.  

"You want to know why I took this from you in the shape of the moon?" 

"Because we both love it?" you try to guess.  

"I mean, yeah. That's a reason too. But I bought this for you because... " he pauses, looking somewhere behind you.  

The area around you is flooded with color, followed by a loud sound.  

Fireworks.  

Chan smiles widely, then takes you in his arms again and turns you around, finally facing the edge of the hill. The city unfolds in front of you, together with the fireworks show that takes place in the center of the city. The sky changes colors, the night becomes day. Standing like this, with Chan giving you a back hug and with the play of light and colors in front of you, you have the impression that you and your beloved Chan exist in the world. 

"You are as stunning as these fireworks. You are the one who colors my life and every time I see you, I can't take my eyes off you. But I don't want you to be just a firework in my life." Chan unbuttons his coat, wrapping you both in it, then rests his chin on the top of your head.  

"Then what do you want me to be?"  

The fireworks show is still going on, so you basically have to shout to hear each other. But Chan seems to have another idea, for him he sticks his lips to your ear.  

"My moon. I wish you to always be as present in my life as the moon is in the sky. Never disappear, even when I'm far away and I can't see you."  

Chan's voice is low in your ear, and you're almost certain that if he didn't hold you in his arms, your knees wouldn't have been able to resist.  

However, you turn to face him, clinging to him.  

"Then you have to get ready, Bangbang. Because I'm willing to be your moon, your sun, or whatever else you want. I'm not going anywhere."  

Chan's left hand finds the back of your head. His lips stick to yours, giving you a soft, careful kiss. 

"Happy New Year, baby." he breaks the kiss for a moment, speaking the words against your lips.  

Then he kisses you again without offering to answer him. And it's perfect. Nothing could make this night better.

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