#we're at like 8k words now for this chapter and i really just need to finish writing one and a half scene

[neoneun-au]

i got a random spurt of motivation for can't help myself so i might actually manage to finish chapter 4 this week before buckling down on the josh fic

[margotw10bis]

Blank Pages. JJK [m]

bestfriend!jungkook x reader

Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; non-idol!jk; f2l

Words: 8k

Synopsis: You have a secret: you're a popular writer on Wattpad. The worst thing that could happen is your best friend Jungkook to discover that your erotic novels are about him...

Warning: protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving); writing of sex scenes

JK was pounding into me at an animalistic pace. I couldn't help screaming his name due to the overstimulation of the three precedent orgasms. His grip around my hips tightened as he was reaching his high. A few more dick strokes were provided before I could feel his hot shots of cum inside my pussy.

It didn't take long for the both of us to fall asleep, exhausted by the intense sex ride.

Your cheeks are red when you finish posting the new chapter of your story on your Wattpad account. Vivid images of the imaginary roll in the hay fill your brain — and your panties with wetness. You always feel the same after writing a sex scene starring your best friend: horny and guilty. You can't imagine how Jungkook would react if he knew he was the main character of a popular erotic online novel... You would die of embarrassment, knowing your best friend, whom you are madly in love with, had discovered your deepest sexual fantasies — featuring him. On the other hand, writing those filthy stories is your way to control both your feelings and your desires. Jungkook is your best friend, you can't risk your friendship.

You didn't have any thoughts other than trying to contain your sexual attraction for him when you created your Wattpad account. You had never thought that so many people would read your stories. You can't deny that you feel kind of proud that people love your writings but you also feel horrified that so many strangers are fantasying — and obviously masturbating — on your best friend. You are so glad that you kind of anonymized him by using his nickname JK. You mean, people could think it stands for Jin-Keon, right?

Just as if you needed some reminder that your writing is nothing but fiction, your phone screen brights up to notify a new message from the very same Jungkook.

'Hi, buddy! We're going to the club with the guys, wanna join?'

You hate so much when Jungkook calls you 'buddy'. It's so far away from the nicknames you wish he'd give you. In your stories, JK always uses 'baby', 'babe', sweetheart' and this is what you want... Not a stupid 'buddy' like you were his classmate in sixth grade!

You growl in frustration and answer that you're too tired and you're just going to bed. Your best friend replies that he is disappointed not to see you tonight and you hate how your weak stupid heart melts at that. You are also disappointed not to see him tonight or every single day of your life. You wish you could go home after work and know that Jungkook is waiting for you before heading to bed, together. You know damn well those are silly thoughts and maybe that's why they hurt so much. They are too far away from reality.

As you think.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You hum, half-asleep as you feel something moving against you. You tighten your arms around the thing next to you to keep it still. However, it moves again to softly caress your hair.

"Y/N, let's go to bed" A whispered voice says

You lowly growl and bury your face deeper into the thing you're hugging. If you weren't in this sleepy state, you could notice that what you have in your arms is actually Jungkook. He doesn't really mind and it's not the first time your movie night ends up with you falling asleep. He'd just let you gradually collapse on him because he knows you always feel cold when you are sleeping. So he is happy to provide some warmth while you're visiting Morpheus' world. He even rested his arm around your shoulders to be a little more comfortable to watch the end of the movie — and enjoying this excuse to hug you.

But now, the film has ended and the couch is not the best place for a full night of slumber. Jungkook sighs when he accepts the fact that you just won't wake up. He tries, as gently as he can, to stand up and lifts you up in his arms. He pushes his bedroom door open with his foot, which causes him to almost loose balance. Finally, his mission is a success when he lands you on his bed without waking you. He smiles softly as he looks at you. He wonders what you are dreaming about right now. Are you having nightmares because of the horror movie? Or are you in a happy place full of your loved ones? He hopes for the latest.

He heads to the bathroom, brushes his teeth and joins you in bed. He knows you don't bother sleeping with him — it's not the first time either. And honestly, if he knew your feelings for him, he could be even more aware of how poorly you care. He makes sure the covers are tightly wrapped around you and scoots closer to hug you. He likes how your smaller body fits in his embrace — it's way better than his usual pillow. He gives you a small peck on the top of your hair and follows you in dreamland.

The sunlight coming through the unwell closed curtains wakes you up. You're surprised not to feel cold as usual in the morning. You want to lift your hand to rub your swollen eyes but you can't: something, or more like someone is completely wrapped around you. Your eyes snap open when you realize it's Jungkook. You turn your head and your heart melts at the sight: his sleepy face is so cute, especially with his pouty lips. You're close enough to clearly see his scar on the cheek as well as the little molds on his nose and under his lower lip. You wish you could taste its softness. You move carefully to free one arm and you caress your best friend's hair as softly as you can to not wake him up. You almost moan when you feel how silky it is underneath your fingertips. God, Jungkook is so perfect that it hurts to look at him.

Your heart beats fast in your chest due to the proximity but it suddenly stops when Jungkook, in his sleepless, presses you closer against his body. And then, you feel it. As clear as day. His morning wood. It stands hard against your lower belly and you gulp. Does your saliva drive straight to your pussy? Because your panties are now soaked. Oh god, Jungkook's cock is pressed against you and you love it. All kind of sinful scenarios take control of your brain and you wish your best friend was a sleepwalker but more like a sleepfucker. Okay, you are clearly deranged...

A normal person would try to bring some space between your two bodies but you do the opposite: you scoot closer, almost grinding on his boner.

Small sleepy growls from Jungkook make you stop moving as you really don't want your best friend to know how much of a sexual freak he is turning you into.

"Good morning, goober" Jungkook says with his sexy raspy voice before kissing your forehead

"Hi" You reply with cheeks as red as a tomato

Fuck, you still feel his dick but Jungkook doesn't seem in a rush of stepping away. Does he not feel it? Or maybe he does and he needs some friction because he fucking holds you tighter. You wish you could feel embarrassed but it's not the main emotion you experience: your horniness takes the most of you. If Jungkook doesn't release you soon, you could jump on him to ride him. Perhaps all the hot sex scenes you have written are messing up with your brain and you can't distance fantasy from reality.

(Un)fortunately, your best friend frees you to stretch. You try your best not to peak at the tent of the sheets caused by his hard-on. Jungkook leaves the bed and stands up in front of you, asking about breakfast with a very distant — according to you — voice. However, you can't focus on any words he is saying because the only thing that gets your attention is his — huge — bulge in his boxing shorts. He clearly doesn't wear any briefs and your mouth waters at the fact there is just one layer of fabric separating you from his cock — and also a whole moral code but you can't care about it right now. On the hand, it's not like Jungkook would stop you but you don't have any idea of it. A sparkle of playfulness brightens his doe eyes as he notices how you are gazing at his dick.

"Are you even listening to me?" Jungkook asks while snapping his fingers right in front of your face

"I-Jungkook, you..." You start but struggle to find the words that won't make you look like a sexual freak

"What?"

"You, uhm, seem to be awaken" You eventually decide to say

Jungkook looks at you with a faked questioning face and you point at this crotch. Rather than to be embarrassed, your best friend smirks proudly.

"Impressed, right?" He teases you and your cheeks take a new brighter tint of red

"Jungkook!" You scold him but you secretly are impressed by his obvious blessed area — way bigger than you have wrote

Your best friend just laughs with his childlike cheerful chuckle and announces that he'll cook some rice with sausages. You fall back on the bed, sighing in frustration. Jungkook is driving you crazy and you wish you could take off his wry smile by sitting on his pretty face. However, you decide it would be wiser to just sit on a chair and have breakfast with him.

"I could like to go to Songdo Beach today and go on a ride of the Busan AirCruise" You say at one point, your mouth full of food which makes barely impossible for Jungkook to understand you

"Why? You already did it a hundred of times"

"But it's raining today!" You pout "You know I love the atmosphere the rain gives to the skyline"

Your best friend does know it. You have told him countless of times how relaxing you find the sound of the rain on the glass cable car and the pale blue, almost lavender color, the Busan sky gets tinted on rainy days. Jungkook sighs to pretend it's a burden to go with you but you both know he likes it too.

As usual, the queue is not that long. Busan people tend to stay home or to take shelter in the numerous trendy coffees. What a shame people don't appreciate how nice it is to fly upon the near ocean while raindrops surround you. As usual, Jungkook buys the tickets for the two of you. You don't quite understand why he insists every time to pay but you can't deny it is heart-warming. Your best friend knows it's one of the things you love the most in life so he just wants you to enjoy it entirely.

A soft smile paints your lips as you step in the cable car. Slowly elevating you in the sky, you watch the nearby buildings growing away between the big and round drops of water. The sight is blurred yet so poetic. The glass floor allows you to take a peak at the waves and if you look at the ocean side, you can see some huge cargo boats, waiting in Busan bay to deliver their merchandise.

The calm atmosphere, enhanced by the melody of the rain on the glass, soothes you. However, Jungkook couldn't just let you be and he suddenly moves to make the cable car swing. You scream and scold him which only makes him laugh. As usual.

"Let's take a picture" Jungkook says while pulling off his phone from his oversized bomber jacket pocket

Then, he sits next to you and frames to crystalize both your two faces and the skyline in the background on the photo. You and your best friend smile brightly. If someone asks Jungkook right now, he could say that it's one of sunniest days ever because of how radiant you are.

"A last one" Jungkook announces

He clicks on the button to snap the picture at the exact moment he pecks your cheek. The photo clearly notifies how surprised you were, your eyes growing wider and your mouth slightly opened. However, your shy face mixed with your blushed cheeks make you really, really cute in Jungkook's opinion. He can only chuckle as he gazes at the picture with affection eyes. He will definitely make it his new wallpaper.

However, the small peck you have received from your best friend moves you more than it should. Your heart beats so loud in your chest that it seems to echoes down to your toes. You try to calm down and you resonate: it doesn't mean anything for your best friend. It's just a small friendly peck. Fuck, you write some erotic stories in which the characters fuck like beasts, you can't be all shaken up by a stupid kiss on the cheek!

You soothe your crazy heart by focusing on the view of the grey tinted skyline and on the few people defying the rain with their umbrellas. Deep down, you know it's the best memory you will have on the Busan cable car despite the numerous times you went on.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"What do you think about this one?" Jungkook asks you a few days later while presenting another shirt in a dark blue color

You try hard to put a smile on your face to hide your painful chest. Does your best friend have any idea that helping him choosing an outfit for his date is torture for you? You could wince at the pain if you didn't have to act like normal.

"I think the white one is better" You answer nonetheless "You can't go wrong with it"

Jungkook nods and then finishes you completely: he casually takes off his t-shirt, flashing you with his so perfect buff chest. If it's true that you sometimes gripe when your best friend spends two hours at the gym, you are so thankful of it now. You practically drool when your eyes run through his flexing biceps — the right one delicately wrapped with ink —, his well-defined pecs and his fucking hot abs. You almost faint when your glance ends up its route on his very low pants, making his V-line and the hem of his black underwear visible. His skin seems so soft, your fingertips tickle at the thought of touching it. Fuck, this is better than anything you have ever written. You gulp when you think about all the nasty things you could like to do with Jungkook's torso.

"So, what do you think?"

Jungkook's question snaps you out of your fantasies but you have absolutely no idea of what he is talking about. Suddenly, the thread escaping from your jeans is very much interesting and you just pray that Jungkook hasn't noticed how you were eying him.

"About what?" You timidly ask

"Gogi Yummy, the restaurant I'm taking her to. Do you think it's a good idea?"

Your heart squeezes painfully when you think about Jungkook having a perfect date, doing everything you could like him to do, with someone else. You wish you could be a good best friend and be happy for him but the truth is that you love him too much not to feel hurt when he is going on a date.

"I think it's great" You reply as cheerful as you can be but still not looking to him in an attempt to hide the hurt in your eyes

"What about you?" Your best friend suddenly asks

"What about me?" You repeat his words with confusion, brows furrowed

"When are you going on a date?" He clarifies

You sigh while notifying him that you don't have time to look for a date. The real reason is obviously your feelings for Jungkook, you don't want anyone else but him.

"You know Jimin, right? The last time I saw him, he told me you were cute. Maybe you should give him a chance" Jungkook tells you with an encouraging tone but you only wince, which makes him sigh "Look, if my date goes well, we'll do something together, the four of us. This way, you won't feel pressured. How does it sound?"

Awful. But there is no way you'd confess that, especially when Jungkook is looking at you with his sparkling doe eyes and his so cute bunny smile. So you tell him that it's a great idea and you hope, even more than before, that his date is a disaster so you don't have to go on a double-date during which you won't be the partner of the person you love.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

JK was drawing delicious patterns on my clit with his tongue. I couldn't help tugging on his raven hair, not really knowing if it was to stop him or to urge him to do it harder. My breathe was cut when I felt a long and thick finger sliding into me, automatically making my walls clench around it.

"I'm close"I told JK, which provoked a proud smirk on his face

His only mission on Earth seemed to be providing me great orgasms — and he'd never failed.

"Come on, baby. Make me taste your yummy juices" He teased me, sending me on the edge

He stood up and took off this t-shirt so I could admire his delicate yet strong torso, the definition of perfection. His muscles were making me feel all kinds of butterflies in my stomach — or was it the remains of the orgasm? — and JK knew it well. He knew he was teasing me, and the way he was flexing his muscles proved me right. My mouth watered and my hand caressed the bulge of his six-pack. His tattoos always had an effect on me, making him as intriguing as sexy. A sin I wouldn't care to go to Hell for.

I wished I had time to enjoy it more but I had to go to work — JK's cunnilingus made me late as it made me come.

You save the last chapter and publish it on Wattpad. You stroll through the comments and smile when you read some very supportive ones. Almost every readers are in love with JK — only of they knew that real life Jungkook is one hundred times better. You sigh in content and close your laptop, ready to head to bed but your phone rings, stopping your plans of having a good and relaxing sleep.

'My date went great. Save your Friday night buddy cause we have a date ;)'

Why does your best friend have absolutely no clue of the draggers he is stabbing into your heart? To be fair, he went on this date because he thinks he doesn't stand a chance with you but you obviously don't know that. You growl and turn in your bed, tugging your sheets around you like if you were a burrito. Yes, going on a date with Jungkook is one of your dreams but going on a double-date with Jungkook having another date than you is a nightmare. You spend the night ramming through all the possible ways the date can go, which leads you to cry when scenarios of your best friend kissing a girl in front of you play in your mind.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You growl while taking your clothes out of the washing machine. You don't what went wrong but it seems like every single pieces of clothing has sized down. Well, you could guess what went wrong: you were deep in thought and clicked on the wrong washing program. You sigh when you see your favorite dress... A slight and ridiculous hope that maybe it's not too bad makes you try it on, which takes you way more efforts than usual. But it only confirms what you thought: the red dress is now so tight that it looks like a second skin. The bottom hem barely covers your underwear and shows some of your ass in the back. And let's not talk about the neckline because it's worse: half of your bra is on display.

Of course, fate is never on your side — because it has been such a nice day so far. You hear your front door opening and it only means one thing: Jungkook is here. He is the only one to have a spare key — which was supposed to be for emergency but turned out to be a way to visit you without warning every time he is in the mood to. You start to panic but you don't have time to cover yourself as your best friend's pretty face appears. You feel embarrassed to show so much skin to Jungkook, even though you often fantasize about him seeing way much more. Shock — and some other expression that you could interpret as lust — paints his features. His eyes run through your very exposed body and your cheeks match the color of your 'dress'.

"Are you going to wear that?" Jungkook asks with a as natural as possible tone while he places his hands in front of his crotch to prevent you from noticing his growing boner

"Are you crazy?!" You defend yourself "I fucked up my laundry, that's all. I have no other choice than to throw away my favorite dress" You sigh in despair

On the other side, Jungkook likes the new style of the dress. It's now his favorite. Fuck, you're hot. You look so naughty. And it's even better when you turn around and some of your asscheeks are visible. He wonders how they would jiggle if he'd spanked you. He knows he shouldn't have this kind of thoughts about you but he can't help it. Your body is so fucking perfect. The peak he had of your big rounded tits, covered by your bra which led appear the shadow of your picky nipple, and the almost peak he had of your panties drive him mad. He does't think you should throw the dress away. You should keep it. For him. For when he fucks you.

Jungkook tries to get rid off those thoughts but his hard-on makes it difficult. When you send him off to change, he gladly accepts and opens your fridge, pretending he is looking for some soda, to let the cold soften his cock. You'll be the death of him.

"What are you doing here?" You asks, making your best friend jolt

Jungkook grabs a random can and turns around to discover you are now wearing your usual light green sweatpants and an oversized t-shit — former his, if he might add. You are really messing with his brain because earlier, with your tiny dress, he could pretend that his attraction was just a normal one of a guy seeing a sexily clothed girl. But now, even with a not so appealing outfit, he still thinks you're beautiful and hot.

You lift one brow when your best friend doesn't answer. Jungkook clears his throat and tries to gather his thoughts. He needs to focus on something other than you, otherwise he risks to cancel all his plans to fuck you against your washing machine.

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to grab some food at PadThailand. It's been a while and I know you like it"

Your heart melts at the fact that Jungkook thought about you before ordering from one of your favorite restaurants. Your smile seems to illuminate the place, so much that your best friend wishes he had sunglasses. You nod with enthusiasm, spurring Jungkook to call the restaurant and book a table.

You've changed, for the third time of the day, into a simple jeans and long sleeves sailor top. You feel proud to match the area of PadThailand, the restaurant being close to one of the small ports of Busan. Delicious scents of fresh cooked fish fill the air, putting you in the mood of eating. You could even change your usual order and try the lemongrass cod fish. You giggle with eagerness, you can't wait to have your stomach full of delicious food.

"You look like you're in a good mood" Jungkook notices, a few meters from the restaurant location

"Of course!" You reply, cheerful "I'm going to one of my favorite restaurants and I'm with my favorite person"

You don't realize how your words made Jungkook stop his track. You continue your way to the door while Jungkook is trying his best to hide his wide bunny grin.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Friday night. The day of your 'date'.

You did make an effort on your outfit, opting for a cute black denim skirt and silver top. Actually, you were quite surprise when you stepped into the restaurant and discovered that your clothes matched Jungkook's. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that people around you would mistake you two as a couple. However, the euphoria left soon as your eyes landed on your best friend's date: a gorgeous girl named Minji. It took you everything you have to smile at her and lie while saying 'nice to meet you'.

Thankfully, the awkward silence that was getting set at your table disappears with Jimin's arrival. You can't deny that the brown haired man is handsome. Honestly, if you weren't so head over heels for Jungkook, you could kill to kiss Jimin's pulp lips. You also like the white light cotton t-shirt with longs sleeves Jimin chose to wear: the thin fabric gives a peak of his dark inked patterns. Do you have a tattoo kink? Well, it's definitely Jungkook's fault.

After ordering some drinks and food, you are starting to think that the night is not a complete torture — despite the occasional kisses between Jungkook and Minji. The girl is actually very nice and tries her best to find common tastes between the two of you. It honestly would be way easier if she were a bitch... You can't even hate her!

Jimin, on the other hand, is funny and shares a lot of stories of his last holidays which were a rollercoaster of unpleasant events. You don't have to force yourself to laugh and genuinely find his company pleasant. Yet, you can't imagine having feelings for someone other than Jungkook. You love him like you've never loved before. He swipes away every competition without even trying. He is more handsome, funnier, nicer than anyone else. He knows you more than anyone and he knows how to help you before you can even say you need him. It's like he can read in your mind, what a shame he can't see in your heart that it's full of him...

However, Jungkook begins to regret having set a date for you. Yes, he is Minji's date but it's just an attempt to stop thinking of you. Actually, he thought that if you were with Jimin, it would help him putting an end at his stupid crush. But the dragger in his heart when you smile at Jimin is a clear reminder that it's not just a silly crush... Jimin is having everything Jungkook wants to have with you. He wants to take you at the restaurant, as a date, just the two of you. He genuinely had more fun at PadThailand with you the other day — when he could pretend it was a real date, even if it was just in his head — than now with Minji. But he thinks you'll refuse if he asks you out, you have never acted like Jungkook could be something other than your best friend.

"Hey, Y/N" Minji starts with a cheerfulness that you can imagine innate in her "You said you love reading. You should follow this Wattpad account"

She hands you her phone and you stop breathing when your very username appears on the screen. Your whole body freezes and your blood is redirected in your legs to run away.

"The author is so good! Her writing is amazing" Minji continues

The compliments would please you in other circumstances but right now, it's the worst thing ever.

"And fun fact, the character of JK makes me think of you" She adds as a killer shot for you when she turns to address Jungkook

You feel so ashamed that you just keep your head down, the phone giving you a great excuse for it. You wish you could just curl up and die. Oh my god, what if Jungkook reads it? What if he knows it's about him? He will definitely know JK is supposed to be him! And he will fucking know how you dream about him fucking you in all kind of lustful fantasies! He'll think you're sick and deranged, there is no other way. He'll think you are obsessed with him and will cut all ties with you. Your throat is so tight that you can't even breath properly. You need to escape, far and fast.

You wait ten minutes not to sound suspicious and then fake an emergency, lying that you have received a text from one of your friends. Jimin, so kind by nature, offers you to drop you off but you refuse, even though you do appreciate the gesture. You basically run away and yell a taxi to head home as fast as possible.

Panic takes control of your body, making you shake and breath heavily. You walk back and forth in your bedroom as you wonder how you are going to get rid off this troubled situation. You definitely can't delete your Wattpad account now, it'd look way too suspicious. The only thing that soothe you is that Jungkook doesn't like reading so he won't look at your — erotic — stories. Right?

Why did you have to write those? You are so stupid, fantasizing on your best friend and making the whole world know! You should have kept your sexual dreams in your bed, rather than crystalizing them on white pages.

Your hands cover your burning cheeks before going to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on your face as a ridiculous attempt to wake up from this nightmare.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Two weeks have passed since the double-date. Jungkook and you have hanged out like nothing happened — actually for Jungkook nothing happened. However, even though you really wanted to hide from him out of embarrassment, you couldn't without presenting yourself as the culprit of these stories. Your best friend was his usual self and he didn't even talk about your Wattpad account, which slowly relieved you. Like you said, Jungkook doesn't like reading, he won't do it so you can live your life without thinking about it anymore. You did stop writing though and you felt sad when you've read comments of people missing you and waiting for the next chapter.

What you don't know is that Minji has insisted so much, arguing that the main male lead of your story was just like Jungkook, that your best friend took on himself to browse through your Wattpad account. And he read everything. At first, he was quite amused at the resemblance: more than the JK name, the fictional character has black hair and tattoos just like him. The sex scenes were intense but still a little too soft for Jungkook who likes it real rough — but it's not like you can know it. But then, Jungkook grew suspicious, some scenes being very familiar to him. Like the one of the two main characters going to the beach but can't to swim because they forgot their swimsuits. Or the one when they were cooking together and JK seasoned the meal the narrator took hours to cook with sugar instead of salt. Another example was an argument between the two characters over the film they should watch at the theatre. Jungkook clearly remembered a very similar scene with you that ended up just like the book: him buying his own ticket for Fast&Furious and you throwing your popcorn on him.

A — absolutely ridiculous and impossible — thought came to his mind: were you the author? That couldn't be. You were his best friend, and you've never seemed to be interested in him — despite his endeavours he might add. But then, how could the scenes in this book be so much like the ones you two'd shared? And then, a crazier thought lighted up in his brain: are all the sex scenes you have written one of your desires? Would you like him to fuck you, to finger you, to lick you? Thinking about your pretty face torn by pleasure made him hard in his pants. He went though the hot scenes for a second time, trying to acknowledge what you like. As insane as it might seem, if Jungkook has the chance to, he'll fuck you and he wants to be prepared. Well, that's if you are indeed the author of the book. Which is such a foolish idea that he can't allow himself to grow too excited because the odds are not in Jungkook's favors.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You are heading to Jungkook's place after receiving a text from him. He asked you if you wanted to watch a movie and you accepted. However, when you enter his apartment — you also have a spare key of your best friend's door —, the usual bowl of popcorn is no where to be seen. Jungkook has a ravishing look with his grey sweatpants and black oversized t-shirt. It's just his common look but it's so good on him.

"Hi" You greet him with a hug "You don't have any popcorn?"

"No, but maybe I have some underbaked cookies that we could eat with ice cream" He replies

You just freeze. Those underbaked cookies with ice cream are something you've written in your story. Did Jungkook read it? It's a catastrophe. You have to act like it's nothing, like you don't know what he means but god, you're such a shitty actress and your best friend knows you better than anyone else.

"Why would I want underbaked cookies?" You ask but your tone is so unsure that it only betrays you

"I don't know" Jungkook starts "Maybe because I'll get to eat you out to be fully satisfied"

Oh god. He. Did. Read. Everything. You wish the ground opened underneath your feet to swallow you whole. You throat is too dry to reply anything and your burning cheeks are screaming 'I'm the author! I'm guilty your Honor!'. You want to run away but you can't, your body refuses to move and you just keep looking down. You are so ashamed that your eyes get watery. Jungkook must hate you to have sexualized him like you did. Worse, you published this sexualized version of your best friend on the Internet and thousand of people have read it.

"Why did you write those stories?" Jungkook asks you

His tone is not harsh but not sweet either. It's just a little softer than neutral and it hurts in your heart.

"I don't know" You whisper with a shaky voice

"Don't lie to me, Y/N" Jungkook cups your face with his hands to force you to look into his so beautiful doe eyes "Tell me, I'm just trying to understand"

You are destabilized not to see any anger or disgust on your best friend's face. You thought he could be furious but he is not. He really seems curious to know. But that would mean you'd have to confess your feelings and you're not ready to hurt.

"It's just things that came to my mind" You half-lie

"So it doesn't mean anything?"

Your mouth opens in surprise at your best friend's question. Or more precisely at his tone. It's like he is hoping for it to mean something. You're taken aback. It's really not the reaction you expected. You remove his hand from your face so you can try to think again. You're lost in all the overwhelming emotions you're experiencing.

"I-" You start but nothing follows

You don't know what to say. Especially when Jungkook is looking at you with such an intense yet loving eye. Like he wants you. All of you. Your mind, your heart and your body. And you'll be happy to give them to him actually.

"Do you love me, Y/N?"

Once again, your eyes widen. You shouldn't be this surprised, it is just a logical question to ask after your interaction. You want to tell him but you're scared. Jungkook is perfect. He is the most handsome man but it's nothing compared to his personality. He is sweet and caring. He is hard-working and never gives up. He is supportive and always willing to help his friends. He is so perfect. Too perfect for you. You have nothing to offer him, he could find someone better just by snapping his fingers. But your best friend stops all those negative and destroying thoughts when he speaks again.

"You don't have to tell me" Jungkook says with a deep voice you've never heard before "I won't either. But I will show you"

With those last, enigmatic words, he cups your face with his tattooed hand. A immediate feeling of warmth rises upon the area he is touching. His thumb caresses your cheek, so delicately that you could think Jungkook is afraid to break you, but it soon drifts away to land on your bottom lip. The thinner and pinkish skin is soft underneath the pad of his finger and he can't wait any longer: he needs to feel the softness with his own mouth.

He kisses you and god, what a perfect kiss. The best one ever. His pulp lips feel like silk. The pressure is the right one: deep enough to draw butterflies in your stomach but not too much to completely overpower you. Jungkook wants to give you the opportunity to stop the kiss if you want to. But you surely don't want to. Quite the opposite: you want more.

Your hands go up to hide in his black hair to keep him close. It's the sign Jungkook waited to deepen the kiss. His hands are now on your back, pressing you closer against his strong body. Everything is just right. You seem to know each other's body like your own. Jungkook said he was going to show you he loved you and he does. The kiss is passionate but so loving at the same time. You have the feeling to fall in love with him all over again.

Without breaking the kiss, he leads you to his bedroom, which is easy since you know well his apartment. Jungkook takes off your shirt and he looks at your breasts long enough for you to grow embarrassed. But then he whispers to himself 'so perfect' and you don't feel unsure anymore. The way Jungkook looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful woman alive. To be fair, you are for him.

Jungkook cups your tits still covered by your bra and leans down to hide his face in the valley of your boobs. God, he loves them so much. You moan when he starts to kiss the available skin. But it's not enough, for any of you. Your hand sneaks behind your back to undo your bra and finally free your breasts. Jungkook doesn't waste time and grabs one boob before squeezing it in his large and warm palm. His mouth works on your other nipple, licking, sucking and even deliciously biting it.

He invites you to lean on his bed and you're happy to do it. Jungkook grabs the hem of your pants and slides them down with your panties. Your pussy is already glistening with arousal and it's driving him crazy. He can't even control himself when he step closer to eat you out. His tongue is fast and precise on your clit and you can't help the moans from escaping your lips. Your head is thrown back and your fists are clenched around the sheets. Your cunt is soaked by your horniness and Jungkook's saliva, creating a real mess between your legs.

"More" You groan

Jungkook smirks while he enters your tight pussy with two fingers. The stretch is so fucking good that you whimper. His pace doesn't show any mercy but you fucking love it. Maybe it's Jungkook's skills or maybe it's your strong feelings for him but your orgasm is close. Your legs start shaking and you rest them on your best friend's shoulders.

"Your pussy is so good" He says against your wet clit "You've dreamt about that, uh? You little minx"

Your head is spinning because of your horniness. You feel like drowning into pleasure and Jungkook's expert fingers hitting your g-sport repeatedly are pushing you over the edge. Your back arches and your toes curl while you're trying to control your orgasm. It's too good, you don't want Jungkook to stop just now. But then, he talks again:

"I've read how you wanted me to eat your pretty pussy. You're a little slut for me, isn't that right?"

His dirty mouth — both words and acts — makes you cum on his face and fingers. Jungkook's digits are squeezed tightly by your walls and he pushes your limits by pushing on your sweet spot harder. It cuts your breathe and you feel your orgasm lasting and lasting until you can't take the overstimulation anymore. Your legs try to close but they are stopped by Jungkook's head and your hands tug on his hair.

"I'll fuck you good"

Jungkook's promise lights up your body once again. You settle down from your high just in time to watch his strip show. His pecs and abs are so perfect. You wish you could lick them but your body is still in the fog of your orgasm so you just can lift your hand to caress him like you've dreamt of so many time. His skin is warm and soft but his muscles are hard right under. Jungkook closes his eyes to enjoy your touch. He's imagined it many times before you and your delicate fingers on him are delightful. His hard cock twitches in his pants when your hand reaches the hem of his sweatpants. The bulge is clearly visible and your mouth waters.

You push the pieces of fabric down to free is big cock. Oh god, it's bigger than you thought. Some pre-cum is leaking from his tip and you use it to jerk him off. Jungkook growls out of delight and your hand works fast on his length. The sight of your small hand around his cock is fucking hot but Jungkook wants to fuck you. You two will have a lot of time in the future to experience other things.

"I want to fuck you" Jungkook says but it's also a consent question

As much as he wants to, he won't if you tell him no.

"I want it too, Kook"

Your best friend walks to his nightstand after getting off of his pants and underwear. He grabs a condom that he quickly puts on and joins you on the bed. You're gorgeous, all naked, in his bed. Lust is written on your face and he still can't believe you're looking at him. He wants to worship you and he will, but right now, he will fuck you like there is no tomorrow.

You open your legs wider for Jungkook to take place between them. He grabs his hard cock and slides the tip up and down on your folds. Your back arches.

"Please, Kook, I want you" Your whipped voice is driving him crazy

He enters slowly, not wishing to hurt you. The way his dick is stretching you out is insane. Jungkook is big but it's fucking good. He fills you so well. When he sees you relaxing, he starts to move back and forth. Your soaked pussy helps him to enter you without any difficulty. His hands cup your face to kiss you. Your moans are swallowed by Jungkook's mouth and your hands grabs his wrists when he pounds you at a faster pace. Soon, your tits are bouncing with rhythm and your groans get louder.

The grab on your jaws tightens and Jungkook rests his forehead on yours. He fucks you passionately. You wrap your legs around his waist to deepen the poundings. The slight change of angle places his dick directly to your g-spot.

"Here!" You scream and clench around him

"Your pussy is so tight but you still want to be fucked rough" Jungkook smirks "You told everyone but me. I'm so disappointed, baby"

His dick strokes are harsher and deeper, kicking the air of your lungs every time. The sound your clapping skins create is loud and sinful. You're close again and Jungkook can feel it.

"You're sure you don't want to tell me that you love me?" He asks with heavy breathe "Because I'll fuck you better if you do"

It's enough for you. Your walls are squeezing him impossibly tight. Jungkook almost winces but the fucked expression on your face is so worth it.

"I love you, Kook!" You scream when you cum hard on his cock, your vison blurred by the tears of pleasure and love filing your eyes

The euphoric state provoked by your orgasm and your feelings make you loose your mind. You kiss him but a salty taste mixes in your kiss. When Jungkook wipes the corners of your eyes, you realize you're crying. You don't even know why.

"I love you too" Jungkook whispers

A few more hard poundings are provided and Jungkook cums in the condom. You're both panting and Jungkook is almost crushing you but you don't care. His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin tenderly. You hug him tightly when you finally realize that your best friend loves you too.

Your cry shakes your body and Jungkook lifts up his head and his heart squeezes when he sees you.

"Hey, don't cry, baby"

He kisses every single inch of your face: your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead and even your eyes to make your tears disappear.

Jungkook pulls out of you and takes off his condom. He quickly comes back to hug you tight. You truly appreciate how gentle he is. He has always been but now, with the love in his eyes, it's even better. Your whole body feels full of love. You know it's the right moment to share all the things you've kept to yourself for years.

"My head and my heart are full of you" You say "I'm drowning in the ocean of the love I feel for you. I love so much that it hurts, Kook"

"Your words feel so good" Jungkook replies with watery eyes, gently patting your hair "I can't describe as good as you my feelings but one thing I can say is that I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I'll never be tired of telling you or showing you how much I do"

You cry like a baby, undoubtedly the result of your post-sex tiredness and the tsunami of emotions Jungkook's confession provokes. It's the first time tears provoked by your best friend are welcomed.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"So, what's next?" Jungkook asks the next day during breakfast

Just as the last time you've spent the night at his place, he woke up with a morning wood. Except that, this time, you made love. It was different from yesterday but as good. Maybe even better because you weren't in the over-everything that your love confessions provoked. You took your time, you kissed and kissed again while caressing and feeling each other.

"Maybe I'll need some inspiration for the next date scenes" You tease him

Jungkook giggles while scrunching his cute nose. He knows you so well and yet, this part of you, your writer part, was completely unknown until a few days ago. He also knows that your book is just an excuse to take you on a date. Honestly, he doesn't have to make any excuse to ask you on a date. He wants to do it. He has been wanting for years and now, you're his girlfriend.

"You're sure you don't need inspiration for your sex scenes?" He asks playfully

You smile and scoot closer to wrap your arms around his neck.

"I could use some help" You whisper before kissing him 

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twelve

authors note: you guys are seriously the nicest and most supportive. the comments always make me stupidly smile and laugh cause not a single one of ya'll is gonna let bdj die off. 😭 also, i know a couple of people have commented and asked about the backstory with joe and jadah, and i promise it'll be explored deeper. there's a subplot i'm working towards unveiling here, and it's nearing the reveal part, but we're not there yet! i promise, though, it's gonna be touched on!!!

i also had to chop this chapter in half, because it's honestly so much stuff, so the next update shouldn't take as long cause it's almost done.

the next two are gonna be so fun. maybe some shit will go down too. we shall see.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, some angst, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“So let me get this straight, in the time that I’ve been gone, you and Joe told Callie he’s her dad, you found out Amir and Mariah been fucking behind your back, and you had a semi mental breakdown after running into your father and, plot twist, long lost sister.” She counts each off with a finger, then asking. “Did I miss anything?”

Nodding, you take a scoop of your ice cream before adding, “Joe told me he loves me.”

In true Alexis fashion, she randomly arrived in town the night before, completely unaware of all that transpired in her absence. So, you take this time while Callie sleeps to catch her up. 

“Did I miss anything that I didn’t already know?” You give her a look, and she rolls her eyes, also eating some of her Rocky Road. “Come on, Y/N. Ray Charles could see that man is in love with you. You’re the one being stupid by not reciprocating.” Before you can push back against her, even if she isn’t entirely wrong, she switches topics. “Now when are we gonna go beat Lieriah’s ass? I told you it was something about that girl. She’s a snake.”

Typically the one to defend your friends, it’s hard to find it in you to come to Mariah’s aid. Nevermind the fact that she knows the shitty things Amir has done to you over the years, it’s the fact that she’s supposed to be your best friend but is messing around with same ain't shit ex? You would never do something like that to her, but maybe your loyalty to her has always been stronger than hers to you.

“I’m not worried about him or her. They’re not worth it.” That’s partially true, but the sting of betrayal is slow to pass and even slower to heal. You’ve always had mid to low expectations for Amir, but Mariah? That’s a crushing blow. “I have more important things to figure out.”

She studies you, leaning back against the headboard. “Your sister.”

“Bianca,” you correct. It’s too uncomfortable referring to her as such, even if that’s exactly what she is. 

In the weeks since the big fireworks show—both metaphorically and figuratively—you’ve tried to slowly return to your sense of normalcy. Focusing on Callie—who is an entirely different issue in and of itself that you really need to talk to your mom about—being more on top of things at work, and navigating your relationship with Joe.

He hasn’t been back to visit since Christmas, but you figured as such. Wrestlemania season has arrived, and you know better than anyone how crazy that time is, especially with him main eventing. 

But the one thing you haven’t really allowed yourself to think too much about is Bianca. You’d sent her a vague apology text a few days after your mad dash and explained that you were dealing with some things and just needed time to sort through them. That you’d reach back out when you were ready.

That still hasn’t happened, and it’s entirely intentional. 

“I remember you mentioned that you always wanted siblings?”

“Yeah, cause we have so much to bond over,” you mutter, bitterly.

“Well, you actually do have a lot in common. She’s a teacher, like you. She has a daughter, like you—” 

“You know what we don’t have in common?” You interrupt, feeling the agitation growing again. It’s not directed toward Alexis, just the situation in general. “A father who loves us.”

You were done referring to that man as your father. A father shows up. Like Joe. That son of a bitch isn’t even in the same universe as Joe. 

Her expression softens. You didn’t tell her everything, just enough for her to get the gist that he’s a piece of shit. And you definitely did not tell her about the time you went to see him. You’ve never told anyone that story. Joe is now the only one who knows, and you’d like to keep it that way. It’s just….it’s just too painful. “I had no idea that was the situation there…..I’m really sorry, girl.”

“It is what it is. I don’t need him.” And you’re not too sure if you need Bianca either. “I’m just trying to figure out if I should power through this for Callie’s sake. You should have seen how she and Taylor clicked. I would hate to take that away from her.”

“I get that,” she acknowledges. “You have to make the decision that’s best for the long run, not necessarily how you’re feeling right now.” That’s very easy to say and nearly impossible to do. “Even if you just allow the girls to interact while you keep some distance with Bianca.”

You’re partially intrigued, spooning some more cookie dough. “How would that work?”

“They don’t live here, right?” You nod. “Maybe the girls can talk on Facetime or even play some game on their tablets. That won’t cause you to interact much with mom outside of coordinating virtual playdates, and Callie still gets to spend time with her cousin, or, not cousin."

You sit on her words, not expecting to be as open to the idea as you are. It’s a pretty genius compromise. “You really do give some great advice sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles mischievously, and you just shake your head. “Now, who’s gonna knock this bitch Mariah over the head with a steel chair? Me or you? Or should we hit her with a bus, Regina George style?”

“Alexis!”

________

You clearly don’t love yourself because you decided to do both yours and Callie’s washday on the same damn day. A Sunday, at that. Meaning, you have no choice but to get it done because you have work the next day.

And Alexis being in town would be even more of a benefit than it already is if she actually knew how to do hair. Natural hair. She can lay any wig down better than Tae, but caring for coils and curls is another story. It’s why you declined her offer, and she lays knocked out in your bed, while Callie is fast asleep in hers. 

Thankfully, you have an insanely generous and sweet man who’s offered to talk to you while you power through this debacle, noodle arms, sleep deprivation, and all.

“Oh, before I forget again.” You grab the bottle of leave-in to apply more to the next section of hair. Shingling may give you the most definition, but it also gives you the most discomfort. “Can you be here May 8th?” A smile falls on your face. “Our baby is graduating preschool, and I know she’d want you there. I do too.”

“Shit, they have preschool graduations?” He seems genuinely taken back before answering. “But, of course I’ll be there.”

“I know. I used to think they were stupid, but now it’s my kid, so it’s the best thing ever. Her cap and gown should come some time in March, so I’m gonna have one of my old teammates who’s a photographer take professional photos of her.” It’s literally just preschool, but that’s still something she’s accomplished, and you want to commend the occasion the best you can. It’s been years since you’ve had professional photos of her taken anyway. Not since she was first born. “And yes, I’ll get extra for you.”

“How much—”

“Anyways, let me show you the tattoo.” Joe has already done so much, the least you can do is cover the photo costs. Even though you know him well enough to know he’ll find some way to contribute. Thankfully, the side of your hair that still needs to be shingled is clipped at the top of your head, so all you have to do is turn around and push down the thin strap of your shirt to reveal your latest ink. “He did an amazing job.”

“Shit, he did.” Joe’s agreement and approval somehow makes you even more satisfied with the outcome. Your Christmas gift to yourself was finally getting that Moana tattoo Callie has wanted to see on you since you told her you were getting one damn near a year ago. It’s on the back of your left shoulder, a black manta ray, some blue ocean-like coloring with one of your favorite lyrics from the movie: I will carry you here in my heart. You remind me, that come what may, I know the way. 

It’s one of Callie’s favorite songs but also feels like an ode to your grandma as well. 

He then asks, “do you want more?”

Readjusting your shirt and turning back around, you answer, “of course. More Disney but also….” This discussion triggers something for you, something that seems a little out there, but also maybe not. “I saw this tattoo on Pinterest that I want to get for Callie.” You grab your phone. “Let me send it to you.” It’s saved in your favorites folder and thus an easy send. Placing the phone back on the counter, you wait for him to receive and see it.

“I like it.” It’s a baby’s footprint with the name written in cursive and date of birth in print right underneath it. You’ve always wanted Callie’s name on you but couldn’t settle on a design until you came across that one. Something about it just resonates with you. 

Licking your lips, you suggest, “why don’t you get it with me?” Couples getting matching tattoos isn’t something you’re entirely against, you just don’t agree with it for people who are only dating and not married, if marriage is the goal. You remember when Amir once suggested you do so, and you literally laughed in his face. You’d soon rather get branded with a tramp stamp than have that man’s name permanently burned into your skin.

But, matching tattoos for the child you created together with the man you love. That is something you could get behind. 

And apparently so can he.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” You’re not sure why, but the ease of his agreement shocks you. It’s not too far-fetched when you think about it. He loves his daughter, and you’ve always known Joe to only get tattoos that have meaning. He could give you a detailed explanation for every piece of ink on his body. 

“Yeah.” There’s almost a sense of excitement in his voice, like he’s eager to have her name on him, to share this with you. “Same location?” At that, you make a face. He laughs. “Inner bicep does hurt, I’m not even gon’ lie to you.”

Yeah, you’ve definitely heard as such, and considering his entire right side is tatted, he’d know. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. I might need to squeeze your hand the whole time, or I’ll end up punching the tattooist.”

He laughs, “you can squeeze my hand.” Joe then asks, “when do you want to get em’ done?” You start to think about it logistically, as well as financially. Tattoos aren’t cheap. “Do you want to go to the Super Bowl?”

His question surprises you because it’s such a change in topics but also….what? “Yup. And Hawaii and Puerto Rico. And then maybe if we have time, stop by Alice in Wonderland.”

He’s too good at matching your sass, retorting, “I can make the first two happen easily. The last one may be a stretch.” Rolling your eyes, you grab for the gel. “I’m serious though. My tattoo artist is based out of Vegas. The game is in Vegas this year. It’ll let me see Callie too, cause I’m having a hard time finding a gap to visit.” As he continues to speak without laughing or chuckling, you realize he’s dead serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to go anyway but kept forgetting.”

You need extra clarification. “Like this year's Usher concert where there’s apparently a game too?”

He rolls his eyes, providing the guest list. “It’s me and the twins, their family, some other fam…..we have a whole section, cause you know it's a bunch of us.” It’s still hard to sit on the fact that this man really just invited you to the fucking Super Bowl like it’s dinner at Golden Coral. His eyes soften. “I wanna see her. I wanna see you.”

Joe’s closing statement, so true and vulnerable, is what breaks you from your temporary state of shock. You get the sense he misses ya’ll just as much as you miss him. “Of course, we’ll go. I’m sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting that.” And it’s true, you weren’t. “How will we get fl—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. I just need you to show up at the airport.”

That seems to be such a recurring theme with this man. He does everything he can to make things as easy for you as possible. It’s tremendously appreciated and doesn’t go without notice. 

“This is the first time she’ll be meeting the twins,” you realize aloud. Hell, his family at all. 

Joe nods, chuckling. “Yeah, they’ve been on my ass about that anyway. They want to meet her.”

Pinning down the section you just finished, you take down the next. A little over halfway done now. “Whoever you want her to meet is fine with me, Joe. I don’t even really have a say in that. She has every right to meet your family just as much as she’s had to meet mine.”

And it’s true. Unless it could present some harm to Callie, you don’t really feel like you have the right to object to things like that. You have zero desire to interfere with Joe and Callie anymore than you already have. 

“I know. I just wanted to tell her the truth before introducing her to anyone else. Less lies.” Makes sense. Thinking about Callie meeting more family brings a small smile to your face. It’s what she deserves. Family members who actually want to be in her life.

The conversation brings something else to the forefront of your mind, partially due to Joe’s confession to you on Christmas but also a question you’ve wanted to ask him for much longer than you’d like to admit. 

“So….” This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t…..I don’t want to overstep.” If he were to tell you that he’d rather you not, that’d be fine with you, one less stressful thing on your plate. But, of course, he’s silent, meaning he’s not going to object. So….you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. “What happened between you and your wife?”

You’re certain he wasn’t expecting that to be what you asked, but to your surprise, he answers. “We were young and got married for the wrong reason. I was 22. She was 21.”

Unsure but taking a big risk regardless, you ask in a small voice. “What was the reason?”

His answer isn’t what you’re expecting either. “She was pregnant.”

It takes a second for you to process what he’s saying. Your stomach is suddenly in knots, chest feeling tight. There’s no way he’s kept something like that from you. No way in hell. “Wait, does Callie have—”

“No.”

And just like that, you know. He doesn’t need to explain. It’s painfully obvious, especially as he looks away from the camera. You have a feeling you've unlocked a painful memory he’d most likely kept tucked away. 

“I’m sorry.” It feels so stupid and unhelpful to say. What does that do for him? It doesn’t take away that experience, that loss that you can’t even begin to imagine. But, it’s all you can offer. “Just—forget I asked, let’s change the subject.” Do you have more questions? Of course. Like, why was there such a gap between their loss and the divorce? But, this is understandably a difficult and sensitive subject, and the last thing you want to do is trigger him more than you already have.

You know better than anyone how awful that can be. 

He agrees with the subject change, going along with the transition of topics, clearly grateful for your understanding. But, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the fact that this man lost his firs child before he could even meet the them, and the child he had who did survive was kept a secret from him for nearly five years.

There’s a sudden sickness and disgust you feel. And it’s not towards anyone but yourself. 

Joe had every goddamn right to be furious with you about your subterfuge.

He still does. ________

“Mama, something is up with Callie.”

You’re thankful Alexis agreed to keep Callie preoccupied in the living room while you have this conversation with your mom, because Callie had another incident just this morning, slamming her door when you told her she needed to pick up her toys.

She’s never done that.

But she has done other things in the past two weeks or so, rolling her eyes or pouting her mouth at you when you say something she doesn’t want to hear, beyond typical tantrums. 

Your mom stops her stirring at the pot to turn around and look at you. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”

“No,” you answer and then realize you’re not entirely sure how to explain it. She’s not being bad, per se. Just….difficult. “She’s just been…..off.”

Genuinely intrigued, and partially concerned, you watch your mom turn the fire on low as she joins you at the kitchen table. “Tell me.”

Shaking your head, you explain. “I thought it was just me, that I was just being overprotective and hyper-vigilant, but when I picked her up from preschool yesterday, her teacher pulled me to the side and asked me if she’s been having sleep problems. I told her no and asked why, and she told me Callie has been irritable. With staff and other kids.”

“Callie?” Your mom seems just as taken back as you were hearing these words. “That doesn’t even sound like her.”

“I know, and that’s what I said at first, but then I thought about it, and she’s been crabby with me too. It’s not horrible, but it’s unlike her.”

A small part of you wonders if it has something to do with you running off on her on Christmas. It would make sense. She was doing absolutely fine before then, but it’s the timing that throws that theory off. You’ve noticed this change only in the past two weeks, well after Christmas day passed, so why the delay?

“What does Joe think it is?”

“I haven’t told him.” It’s not that you don’t want to. You’d just like to have a better grasp of what it is before doing so. Have more actual information to provide him.

“He hasn’t seen the behavior for himself?”

You shake your head. “She’s fine with him. Matter of fact, after his calls, she’s like a completely different child.” It’s watching your mom’s face settle into a look of realization that makes you ask, “what? What is it?”

“Honey” she starts with a soft chuckle. “She’s missing her daddy.”

Her answer catches you by surprise, painting your face with confusion. You’ve had a lot of theories, but that definitely wasn’t one of them. “What?”

Reaching across the table, she places her hand over yours. “Think about it. How would she react if you were gone as much as he is? She’d be a mess, cause you’re her mama, and she has a strong attachment to you. Look how easily she attached and connected with Joe. It’s always been there. Except she knows the truth now, so her attachment is even stronger.” You heed to her explanation, wise and sensible. You hadn’t even thought of it that way. “And isn’t this the longest he’s been gone without her seeing him? She’s acting out because she misses him and probably doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so it shows in her behavior.”

As relieved as you are to have an explanation that makes sense, it’s an explanation that makes you incredibly sad for your sweet child. You know how hard it is for Joe to get away right now, you understand it. It never crossed you that she wouldn’t. 

Devastated, you ask, “what do I do?”

“Talk to her. Try to help her understand. It may not make a huge difference, but it’s something.”

You nod, so so grateful for her, for all that she does for you, for Callie. For all that she’s done. Reaching across the table, you hug her tightly. “thank you, mama.” As much as it devastated you to not have that man in your life, your mom made sure to go above and beyond to make sure you knew you were loved. She played both roles beautifully, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to make her understand what that meant to you. 

You still haven’t really sat her down and explained everything that happened Christmas night, nor has she asked, but you know it’s because she’s trying to respect your space. It’s appreciated, but you also know you’re gonna have to eventually tell her.

Just not now.

Right now, you’ve gotta take care of your baby.

________

Even the energy in Callie’s playroom feels off.

You’re so used to walking in and finding her with that million dollar smile that makes your entire day better. Instead, you walk in and she doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. She just continues to color. 

“Hey, baby….” Disappointed, but refusing to show as such, you welcome yourself in and approach her table. “Is it okay if I color with you?” 

She still doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you do your best not to hide your sadness. You hate seeing her this down, it’s so unfamiliar, and you’ll do just about anything to fix it. 

Sitting down in the uncomfortable seat, you take a couple of her pages and pull out a crayon. “I have an idea.” At that, she looks up, slightly intrigued. “Why don’t we draw how we’ve been feeling lately? I draw me, and you draw you.” 

You scold yourself for not selling it to her better, for not telling her it’s something you sometimes do with your students. Some level of innocent peer pressure. However, she surprises you by agreeing with a simple “okay.”

It takes a second for you to register that it was really that simple. Step one is done. Now for step two. 

Grabbing some crayons, you don’t really concern yourself with skin tone, just getting something out on paper. The two of you color in silence, and you start to offer to put on her favorite playlist but decide against it. 

You want her to really think about what you’re asking. 

It’s when you see that she’s placed down her crayon and is just staring at her picture that you ask, “you done?” She shakes her head, but her eyes are on the table in front of her. “Is it okay if mommy sees it? I’ll show you mine too.”

Handing you the page, you expect an influx of emotions, but actually seeing her literal representation of how she feels is simply heartbreaking. 

She’s drawn herself, frowning, surrounded by broken hearts and a blue tear leaking from her eye. Callie did what you asked. You just wish it didn’t have you feeling so helpless.

“This means you’ve been feeling sad, huh?” You hate how your voice gives away your emotions. This is about her, not you, but it’s so difficult for you to not be impacted. No mother wants to see her child hurting, and Callie currently is. It kills you. “Callie….” Moving up from your chair, you move across to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Have you been sad because you miss your dad?”

All you need to hear is one sniffle, and instantly, you’re reaching for her, holding and comforting her.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby.” She cries into your chest, and you have to hold back your own tears.

“Why doesn't he come back?” She asks in between tears, wiping her eyes. “He’s been gone a really long time.” It’s only then you realize that she’s not entirely exaggerating. Joe was last here for Christmas. It’s now the end of January. For a child like Callie, that must feel like an eternity.

“He would if he could, Callie. I promise you he would. Daddy just…he gets really busy with his job this time of the year, and he can’t leave or he’ll get in trouble.” It’s so difficult to explain this to her. WrestleMania season is inarguably chaotic and stupidly busy. Even back in the day, Joe’s trips to see you were most far and few in between during this time of year. And that was before he even had a title. You can’t even imagine how busy he must be as the literal fucking face of the company.

Enough to keep him from being able to come see you and Callie. 

You’ve just gotten so used to the dynamics of him being away for periods at a time that it never occurred to you Callie hasn’t had the same experience. That at the end of the day she’s still a little kid who just wants to be with her dad. 

It’s then that a thought crosses your mind.

“What if…..what if we went to see daddy?” For the first time since you stepped into the room, her eyes actually light up and you notice her tears lessening. “Instead of him coming to us, we go see him?”

“Really?” There’s the faintest smile on her face, and you know then that you’re going to make this happen. You don’t know how or in what way, but it will be a reality. No matter what it takes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, brushing away some of her tears. “You can go see him at his show. He’d love that.” Not as much as she clearly loves the idea alone. “Now, we’d only be able to stay a day or maybe two but—”

“Please,” she interrupts, and you get the sense that she fears you’re going to find a way to say that you couldn’t or shouldn’t go. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“Baby, you’re already the best girl.” You push back some of her hair, resting your hand against her cheek. “Mama’s gonna make it happen, okay? I promise.”

If you have to sell one of your kidneys, then you’ll just be less one organ, because you’re getting your baby to that damn show. Matter of fact, you don’t say anything to her, but you’re wondering if you can make it to this week’s upcoming show. It’s only Sunday, and that gives you a couple of days to make arrangements and secure tickets. It’s doable, but you don’t want to get her hopes up, so just in case, you say nothing.

And yes, in the back of your mind, you know she’ll see Joe in a couple of weeks for the game, but that’s too long. Your child is hurting. You need to do something now. She can’t wait that long. 

“Thank you, mommy!” She wraps her little arms around you, and just like that, you see the spark and joy that fills your days with light and laughter. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Kissing her temple, you release her, realizing something else. “Now we can't tell your daddy because we’re gonna surprise him, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She nods, happily, unaware of the real reason. You know that you can’t tell Joe about this. Well, not now at least. This is not something to be discussed over the phone or even video chat. And if you tell him you want to take her to see him as soon as possible, he’ll know something is up. 

So, you have to move in silence. 

Coloring with Callie commences for a little longer as you value and cherish your time with her, but as soon as she’s down for her nap and before you wake Alexis from hers to tell her the news, you need to do something. It’s in that time bonding with her you realized how you’re going to make this happen.

You’re suddenly immensely grateful for that random conversation you’d had with Joe a while back regarding the fact that he and the twins have had the same phone number since they were in high school.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts until you land on the one you need. You type, backspace, and type some more, only sending out the text once you’re fully pleased with it.

You: Hey, Jon. This is Y/N. Can you call me when you get a chance? Preferably sooner rather than later. I need your help with something. And please don’t tell Joe. It’s a surprise. 

________

God clearly wants you to bring Callie to see Joe. 

There’s just too many things that have lined up perfectly for that not to be the case. The discussion with your principal went well, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. You’ve always had a cordial relationship and know she respected your grandma. The whole school system in your town did. That was just her level of impact. But that respect has slid down to work in your favor as your principal told you to take as much time as you need.

“You’ll always have a job here.”

While not a huge concern, it’s reassuring and not entirely unsurprising. Again, your grandma’s impact definitely granted you a level of nepotism. You were slightly surprised when she actually encouraged you to take more time off, pointing out how in the almost nine years you’ve worked there, she could count on one hand how much PTO or vacation time you’ve used. And, it’s true. It was really only when Callie was sick and your mom couldn't help or you wanted to stay home and nurse her back to health that you called out. For the most part, you had damn near perfect attendance.

But, that’s certainly about to change, and you’re thankful you have a job that’s flexible enough to accommodate the change. 

And then there’s the actual getting there. You should have known when Alexis was asking questions about when you and Callie were leaving that she was up to something. You naively chalked it up to her planning her flight out, as there was no way you expected her to wait around for ya’ll to get back. Instead, she was busy buying not just her ticket to come with ya’ll but yours and Callie’s as well.

You instantly felt bad when she forwarded you the itinerary information. You couldn’t see the cost, but you weren’t stupid either. Getting flights out with such short notice had to be expensive as all outdoors. You were just going to put the bill on your credit card and work to pay it off. And, of course, when you offered to pay her back, she nearly cussed you out. As if such an offer was insulting. 

“What good is a trust fund if you can’t spend it on your college roomie and pretend godchild?”

So, while you still felt slightly uncomfortable, you were able to push it to the backburner for the sake of Callie. This is all for her, and you don’t care what it takes to make it happen. Even if it means sucking up your pride. 

And deep down, you know if Alexis didn’t do what she did, Joe would somehow find a way to compensate you. The same way his ass somehow got his card on file at the hospital and covered all of Callie’s medical bills without ever even asking you if you needed help.

You still haven’t talked to him about that, not really having or finding the right time, but it also feels a bit bitchy and ungrateful to be upset with the man for covering his daughter’s medical expenses. 

Then there’s the actual show itself. One thing you were initially concerned about was if Joe has a match lined up for this upcoming week’s show. You two have only had a couple of discussions about it but still enough for you to learn that he’s extremely hesitant to expose Callie to his wrestling persona. 

“I don’t want her seeing me like that, thinking that’s who I am.”

And you understand him fully. Roman may be a fascinating character, but he’s equally narcissistic and ruthless as he is intriguing. The complete opposite of Joe and who he is. 

Still, you’ve worked to help him understand that talking to Callie, explaining to her that he’s playing a “character” could help her understand better. You both are in agreement that she’s too young to watch actual matches, especially his as they tend to get brutal, but she can see certain promos. And she does. You let her watch a couple where the dialogue is safe enough to go over her head. And truth be told, she’s so focused on watching Joe that she's not really paying attention to what’s being said anyway. 

Needless to say, you were massively relieved to hear from Jon that Joe doesn't have a match lined up and his promo is reportedly tame and safe enough for Callie’s eyes and ears. He didn’t give specifics, but from one parent to another parent, you trust his judgment. 

And the most important thing of all is the fact that Callie has done a complete 180. She’s no longer as irritable, just the usual attitude when she’s sleepy or hungry. Just like her mama. And there’s that spark of joy in her eyes. She’s even started packing what she wants to bring with her. She knows you’ll only be there for one night, but even that can’t seem to dim her joy. 

It makes your heart swell. 

All of this brings you to your conclusion that you’re doing exactly what you should be doing. 

“Ahhh, and here it is.” The old woman’s voice breaks you from your inner dialogue as she walks toward the counter, returning from the back. “Sorry about that sweetheart.”

“No worries, Mrs. Ella.” Your eyes light when you see the item in her hand, even if it’s covered by a cloth bag. The fact that it’s ready is more than enough to make you smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this.”

She waves off your concern, offering a warm smile. “Your grandma was one of my best friends. As far as I’m concerned, anything you need is a done deal.”

That warms your heart. Mrs. Ella has been the town seamstress for longer than you’ve been alive but doesn’t look a day over 50. She’s not lying either. Your grandma always cited her as one of her “life” sisters. 

“Why don’t we take a look to make sure it’s alright?” She offers, removing the item from the garment bag. She takes the hoodie and turns it over so you can see the back.

In awe, you acknowledge, “it’s perfect.”

Among the many things Joe has gifted Callie, WWE apparel hasn’t really been included in that list. You’ve chalked it up to his hesitation about familiarizing her with his Roman persona. However, you know that girl loves her daddy and will support him in all the things, so you took it upon yourself to pick her up a few items over the holidays. One of those things being a black hoodie with Roman’s picture on the front with him wearing one of his head of the table shirts. Wanting to make it special and personal, you had the idea of customizing it. Thus, asking Mrs. Ella to add to the back, Acknowledge my daddy!, and she did a fabulous job. It looks like that was the original design. 

Pulling out your wallet, you ask, “how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Your eyes snap to her. “Mrs. Ella, no, this was a rush—”

“Don’t argue with your elders, child,” she scolds, and you smile warmly. “Just show me a picture of her wearing it, and we’ll be even.”

Moved by her generosity, you offer your gratitude again. “Thank you, Mrs. Ella. Seriously. Thank you.” 

Hand over yours, she just nods and then ushers you out the door, “well, you better get a move on child.” 

With a small laugh and one more thank you, you leave out with the hoodie, excited to show Callie and even more, to see Joe’s reaction when he sees her wearing it.

“Y/N?”

Fuck. You’d know that voice anywhere, have known it since you were five years old. 

That doesn’t mean you have to heed to it.

You keep walking. 

A stupid decision, because the footsteps behind you become louder and faster as she asks, exasperated, “would you just talk to me?”

You spin around, suddenly pissed at her repeated question. “Why? Why should I talk to you?” 

You’ve dodged and ignored her texts the same way she did yours, so what’s the issue now? Being on the receiving end must be one hell of an unpleasant experience for her. Not that you give two shits. Mariah is the last thing on your plate right now.

Mariah seems taken back, and that just pisses you off more. How can she not see her wrong in this situation? “You’re my best friend, Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean something to you when you were fucking Amir?”

Something you can’t identify flashes in her eyes followed by apparent hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’d really believe him over me.” It’s hard to tell how sincere her watery eyes are or if they’re performative. You’ve never known her to be fake, but then again, maybe you’ve never really known her at all. “That’s fucked up.”

Finding some level of compassion and understanding for the woman you called your best friend for almost your entire life, you try to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say you’re not fucking him. At the very least, you’ve been telling him my business while ignoring my texts and calls. Like, what the fuck, Mo?” 

She shakes her head. “He came to me, worried about you—”

“He came to you nosy and upset because I cut it off with him, and you fell into his trap.” How she can possibly fall for Amir’s bullshit is beyond you. She knows how he is. Hell, she’s been right beside you, up until recent weeks/months, dealing with his bullshit. So, her excuse is just that—an excuse. “And even if he was, as my best friend, you should know that’s still girl code violation.”

It feels almost silly citing that, but the morals behind it still ring true. You would never talk to Caleb about things going on in her life when you know they’re not on good terms. And you damn sure would never fuck him. 

“Girl code?That’s funny coming from you, because you didn’t seem to to care about girl code when you were fucking another woman’s husband and had a whole ass baby for him.”

Her words stop you dead in your tracks. Any facial expression you may have been showing is dropped and neutral. Even your voice is softer, less accusatory. “Excuse me?” 

For her to say that to you, knowing how sensitive a subject that is truly takes you by surprise. Truly. 

It doesn’t stop there though. “I mean, forreal, Y/N. You’re up in my face about Amir, but aren’t you still fucking Joe? Shit, how many niggas do you need?” It’s hard to believe the words coming out her mouth, so angry and hostile. But, even her volume rising has you stumped. It’s like she wants to draw an audience. “It’s not enough to be one man’s whore, but you still gotta have another on the side?”

Truly baffled, all you can ask is, “where is this coming from?” 

She sucks her teeth, just as irritated, if not more by your question. “It’s always been this shit with you. You do whatever the fuck you want and don’t care who you hurt or betray in the process!”

And now you’re just straight up confused, because what have you ever done to her? Cause that’s what it sounds like she’s implying. Like you’ve done her wrong. Like you’ve been doing her wrong. “What are you even talking about?”

“You got Joe. You got Amir. Shit, when is enough enough for you?” She scoffs, and it’s hard for you to even look at her let alone listen to all the hurtful things she’s spewing. “Like damn, find a new hobby. Focus on raising your kid—”

And that…..that is the moment that you’re no longer confused, or hurt, or saddened to hear your best friend say such awful things. You’re pissed. Cause one thing no one can convince you you’re not, is a good mother. You’ve dedicated your entire life and being to taking care of Callie, making sure she’s straight. That’s always been your priority, and for her to suggest otherwise….those are really fighting words. 

You step toward her, finding all of the will in the world not to shatter her jaw. “You and I have so much history. It is the only reason I’m not whooping your ass right now, but know this, Mariah. This was your freebie. Fuck with me again, speak on my child again, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the nearest wall.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. “Stay away from me, bitch.”

You don’t give her time to respond or even yourself the chance to lay her out, you instead rush to your car, locking the door and speeding out of the parking lot. 

Your knuckles are nearly white with how tightly you’re gripping the steering wheel.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this hot. Years maybe. Amir would piss you off, sure, but never to the extent of your emotions in this moment. It truly took all resolve and imagining Callie’s disappointed face at not being able to see her dad  because you got yourself locked up for aggravated assault to keep you from beating Mariah’s ass. She knows better than anyone that you don’t play about your daughter, so for her to include Callie in her mud slinging is not only repugnant but hurtful.

She’s supposed to be Callie’s godmother. 

But beyond that, you’re having a hard time reconciling with the rest of the things she was saying. It didn’t feel like something that’s been building up over the past few months. No, this was different. Much…..deeper.

Regardless, you don’t have time to deal with this shit. You need to put your focus on preparing to bring your little girl to see her dad. 

Mariah can fuck off. 

She’s always been all bark and no bite anyway. 

________

“Mommy.”

Callie doesn’t even have to say anything else for you to know a request is to follow. 

“What's up, sis?”

She climbs on top of where you lay on the sofa, you and Alexis watching some random dating show she swears up and down is the best thing since Love is Blind. So far, you’re entirely unimpressed. Granted, reality shows of any kind have never been your cup of tea in the first place. 

Your YouTube history is mostly crime documentaries and Bloodline videos. 

She climbs on top of you, throwing her arms up and shouting, “dance party!”

Of all her typical requests, that’s one you haven’t heard in a while. 

You’ve always raised Callie with music, even back when you were pregnant, you would take your Beats and place them on your belly. It’s seemingly worked because this child loves music, so much so that you two would have random “dance party’s” where you’d blast music and dance around, no care in the world, just the two of you.

You haven’t had one in a while, but seeing Callie so happy, a stark contrast from how she’s been is more than enough to get you up and on your feet. You look over at Alexis. “Come on, Lex, it’s dance party time.” 

She feigns a gasp, looking at Callie for approval. “Do I get to come to this party?”

Callie giggles and jumps on the sofa. “Of course! Everyone can come to dance party!”

What’s also ironically funny is the fact that you and Alexis used to have dance parties all the time in your dorm, just often with much more explicit Travis Porter, Speaker Knockerz, type music and a lot of ass shaking.

“Well tonight, it’s just the three of us,” you laugh, grabbing your phone and opening your Spotify to figure out what will be your kickoff song. It’s when your eyes land on that one though, you know you’ve found it.

Connecting your phone to your Bluetooth, you confirm the connection and hit play. 

We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea

But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be

“My favorite white girl song ever!” Alexis shouts, starting to dance with Callie who’s just as excited about your selection. Together, the three of you dance and sing when the iconic chorus hits. 

If you gave me a chance I would take it

It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it

Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me

When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be

At some point, Alexis grabs your phone, recording and capturing the laughter and joy you experience dancing and being silly with your very, very best friend. Callie’s laughter could revive any soul, and it’s so genuine. Even more, you know a large chunk of it is her excitement to see her dad in a couple of days.

And that makes it all the more special. 

Eventually needing a break and time to catch your breath, you laugh as the song ends and the next one starts. Lex and Callie immediately go at it for round two, spinning around and dancing to Dance the Night. 

You take a second to check your phone, seeing that you have a Snapchat from Joe. Frowning, you open the message confused as to why he’s using that and not just text. He only has the damn app because you made him get it. He’s not very big on social media outside of occasional Instagram posts. 

Swiping it open, you see why he was messaging you on there.

Because your wonderful best friend sent him the video she recorded of the three of you dancing.

Joe: How do I save this?

Joe: Fuck it. It’s too confusing. Just send it to me.

Laughing, you chew on your bottom lip and type out a reply.

You: You’re such an old man. 😩 

You: But yes, I’ll send it, even if I didn’t know Alexis was recording to send it to you...

You: Callie loves “dance parties” lol 

Joe: I love her laugh. She looks so happy…

You: I know. ❤️ She loves music. Def my kid.

You: Skillet is next on the queue, btw. 🙃

Joe: Don’t know what that is, but if I had to take a guess, it’s some rock shit.

You: You know me so well. 😊

Joe: Of course, baby.

Leaving his thread, you realize that if she sent it to Joe, she probably posted it to your private story as well, which is fine. You only have people on there you know and trust to keep the contents within that space.

But, it’s in checking the views that you see Mariah not only watched but screen recorded your story. It’s strange, normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. She’s always screenshotted and screen recorded stuff you posted, and you did the same with Micah. 

But now…..

Now, it feels wrong to share these moments with her. She’s lost that privilege. 

Moving to your contacts, you ignore her old Snapchat name she never uses anymore and instead just block her primary one from seeing your stories, and that includes close friends. And interestingly enough, when you check your texts, you see one from her muted thread that momentarily causes you to pause.

Mariah: Kinda stupid to ice out the one person who knows everything about you. 

But the pause comes and goes, Mariah always says shit, and that’s where it stops, the saying. She’s always been the mouse of you two, and that shit ain’t changed.

Closing up the app, you switch back to Spotify and focus on what’s before you and not behind you.

You have all the people you need in your life. 

Mariah can fuck off.

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (5)

Chapter Five: The Return

Gif by @theworstbatch

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: Will a mission to an Imperial facility be the thing that allows you, Hunter and Crosshair to reconcile?

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, again we have my interpretation of headspaces, limited use of y/n, fluff, reference to past character death, angsty conversations, PDA (kissing and some brief spicy thoughts), brief innuendo, mentions/ references to scars and torture, reader, Hunter and Crosshair are all a lil mean to each other, me making up how the Force works, I give some of Crosshair and Hunter's past fights some more lore, fun family teasing dynamics

Word Count: 8K

Author's notes: Had a lot of fun incorporating reader into this one! Hope you like it too! And the work for Ch6 will begin today too!

Omega released a content sigh as she opened her eyes upon feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. As she took in the familiar walls and gave Lula an affectionate squeeze, part of her still couldn’t believe she was really here again.

“Looks who’s awake!” Wrecker called out jovially.

“How’d you sleep?” Hunter enquired as she came down.

“Better than ever.” She replied. 

“Delivery from Shep and Lyana.” Wrecker chucked her a piece of fruit.

“Another one?” Omega remarked lightly as she caught it. It had been a few days since they’d returned to Pabu and Shep and Lyana had been incredibly accommodating in the provision of clothes and food since she’d been back.

“They’re happy you’re back.” You said cheerily as you handed Wrecker and Hunter their mugs of caf and sipped from your own. Since being back, you’d all slipped out of your armour and for you this had also meant allowing the warm Pabu sun soak into your skin so there’d been occasions where you’d removed your top layer and gloves. You’d stopped hiding the scars from your torture, but it had meant you needed to fill Omega in on certain events.

“And so are we.” Hunter added with a smile as he slipped an arm around your waist.

“Where’s Crosshair?” Omega asked as she looked around the ship.

“He wasn’t on the ship when we woke up.” Wrecker replied.

“He’s… still adjusting.” Hunter added.

“I’ll check on him.” Omega said breezily before she departed the ship.

The three of you shared a mildly concerned look as she left.

--

Crosshair watched his shot go wide yet again.

“Greetings, Omega!” AZ shouted with a cheery wave to the girl standing in the distance.

Crosshair glanced her direction but quickly went to focus on shooting the fruit out of AZ’s hand again but released a low groan as he saw that his hand continued to quiver, making his grip and aim unsteady.

Omega made her way down to the beach cove and gave Batcher a few dotting pats before she came to crouch beside Crosshair. She noted the bowl of fruits on the rock he was positioned behind. “Shep and Lyana found you then?”

“Their ability to do so is uncanny.” Crosshair responded dryly.

“I know what you’re doing, Crosshair, but you can’t keep hiding. You need to talk to them.” She advised, the ‘them’ referring to you and Hunter.

“I’m not hiding. I’m training.” Crosshair deflected as he readied his rifle and got the fruit in his sights, but his shot missed. He stared at his hand in anger and aggravation. What good was a sniper who couldn’t make a simple, unopposed shot?

“You know, I’m sure AZ could look at your hand for you.” Omega suggested.

Crosshair exhaled a sharp sigh. “I’m fine.”

Sensing his wall was well and truly up on the matter, she changed tact, “So what skills does this require, besides good sight?”

“Being a sniper is more than just looking scope. It’s about patience. Reading the environment.” He half-turned his head. “And knowing when you’ve got eyes on you.”

Omega looked up past his shoulder to see the three of you watching them from the top of the cliff edge.

“They don’t trust me.” Crosshair stated matter-of-factly.

“Give it time. But you will have to talk to them.” Omega reminded him with a soft pat on his back.

Crosshair only gave a non-committal hum before he went back to his rifle.

--

“Not sure it was a good idea to give Crosshair back his rifle.” Hunter commented.

“Omega trusts him. That’s good enough for me.” Wrecker replied. “And well, he hasn’t tried to kill you yet.” He added, looking to you.

“Oh, yes, that’s a great comfort, Wrecker. Thank you so much.” You replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wrecker raised his hands in appeasement. “All I’m saying is that it might be an idea to talk things out again.”

“Cause that went so well last time.” You muttered.

The sound of a ship approaching interrupted further discussion.

Hunter glanced up to see Echo’s shuttle and he whistled down to the other two but as he got up to leave, he noticed the stare you were giving him. It was pointed but there was something else behind it that he couldn’t quite label, “What?”

“ ‘What?’ he asks like I can just give a simple reply as to how whistling is attractive.” You mumbled, avoiding his gaze as you rather hurriedly stepped past him.

Hunter smiled at your back and fondly shook his head in your direction before he caught up to you and Wrecker.

--

“It’s Echo!” Omega cheered as she saw the ship fly overhead.

“Perfect.” Crosshair grumbled.

“I have tabulated your shooting accuracy. Your target success rate was at 53%. Well below your average.” AZ helpfully informed him.

Hearing that only made his mood worse. Crosshair did not respond to the droid, instead he just trailed behind Omega as they made their way to the top of the island.

--

You grinned as you saw Echo and Omega share a brief hug.

“What? No hug for me?” Crosshair quipped as he approached.

Echo scoffed, “That depends how good your intel is.”

Crosshair grunted in return. At least that felt somewhat normal.

--

The sun was setting as the six of you took your seats around Shep’s table, the golden glow adding some much-needed softness and warmth to the atmosphere. He’d been kind enough to let you all use his residence as a place to gather and think- there had been numerous offers of setting up places of your own since you’d all returned but until this business with Tantiss had reached an official conclusion, it felt too much like tempting fate to accept.

“They were using clones for testing, taking samples. Most were held in the detention wing, but I never saw what was in the vault.” Omega told the rest of you. “Even Emerie wasn’t allowed access.”

“Emerie?” Echo repeated.

“She works for Hemlock. She’s a clone, like us. Like me.”

Echo reflected on that for a moment before he addressed Crosshair, “And what about you? Anything else to add?”

“I was a prisoner. Not much to tell.”

You and Hunter both narrowed your eyes at him. He was holding something back.

“We’ve been searching for this base for a long time. Accurate intel’s hard to come by. We need to know all we can before making any moves.” Echo said.

“We have Nala Se’s datapad, but it isn’t working anymore.” Omega slid the device over to Echo. “If we can get it online, we should be able to pull more intel on Tantiss.”

“It could have schematics, entry points.” Hunter theorised. “Maybe even the coordinates of the base itself.”

“Imperial encryption will be a problem, especially without Tech.” Echo said, his tone solemn.

The mood shifted and your eyes couldn’t help but drift over to the empty seat at the end of the table. Regardless of everything else, it was obvious the loss was felt by all of you.

“Plugging it into an Imperial terminal will bypass the encryption.” Crosshair stated after a moment of heavy silence.

“Where do we get one of those?” Wrecker asked.

“I know a facility. Remote, understaffed. It shouldn’t be a problem to infiltrate.”

Hunter debated the risks in his head, “Crosshair, Echo and I will go to this remote facility. You three will stay here.” He looked to you, Wrecker and Omega.

You frowned at him.

“We’re finally together and you want to split us up?” Omega argued.

“Yeah, I’m with the kid on this one.” You piped up.

“We just got you both back. I’m not going to risk either of you getting captured again.” Hunter replied firmly.

Your gaze softened, “Hunter, not that I don’t appreciate the concern, but there’s no way I’m letting you go to an Imperial facility with just two other people. No matter how understaffed it might be.”

“With me, you mean.” Crosshair muttered, the double meaning behind your words was not so subtle. “One of these days you’re going to have to trust me.”

“Give me a reason to.” You snapped back. Hunter’s gentle squeeze of your knee stopped you from saying anything more.

The others all shared in fretful looks of concern.

Omega spoke up to get her argument in before one started again between you, Hunter, and Crosshair. “And I left all those clones behind. I need to do this, Hunter.” Omega implored.

Hunter glanced between Wrecker and Echo who both nodded. He then faced you, and he could tell by the resolve in your eyes that he wasn’t going to win this one. He gave a resigned but agreeable nod of his head.

--

The tension between the two clones could be cut with a knife as they passed each other on the ramp.

“Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you.” Crosshair explained to Omega as Hunter moved out of earshot. He picked up the next case of supplies.

“I know.” Omega said begrudgingly. “You think I should stay behind too?”

“You’re capable, but you are still a kid.”

Omega only scoffed, “I’m older than you are, little brother.” She taunted.

“Never going to quite get used to that.” You said to yourself, sliding your gloves on and long-sleeved top over your head before grabbing your limited pieces of armour from the pile of supplies. You reapplied it as you passed the two of them. But the smile and quiet laugh Crosshair allowed himself at Omega’s words wasn’t lost on you either. You boarded Echo’s ship but saw Hunter standing in the doorway watching as Wrecker walked towards the two of them. Is that-

Hunter offered a rigid nod by way of reply.

“I don’t know if this’ll still fit, but, uh, here.”

Crosshair turned to the sound of Wrecker’s voice and opened the case he held out for him, but he wasn’t expecting to see what he did. And whether he’d want to admit it or not, the meaning behind the fact that they’d kept it after all this time touched a part of him. “My old armour.”

“Yeah, it never felt right to get rid of it.” Wrecker admitted before he boarded the ship.

--

With all of you properly kitted up, the ship came out of hyperspace and entered the ice planet’s atmosphere.

“On approach. Reading minimal life signs, if any.” Echo announced.

The ship landed and the group of you got ready to disembark.

Echo gave the scanners one last preliminary glance, “No heat signatures inside of the depots, and nothing on comms. There’s no one here.”

As you followed the helmeted example of the others and pulled your hood and mask up, and made your way out, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d been here before. Something about it felt eerily familiar but you couldn’t fathom why. You dismissed Hunter’s questioning glance and continued further down the steps. Clearing your mind, you studied Tech’s datapad with Hunter.

“Hey, it does fit.” Wrecker said with a laugh as he half-turned and saw Crosshair come outside in the old black and red 99 armour.

You, Echo, and Hunter all looked too, and the sight automatically transported you back in time, but it was now clouded by a lingering darkness.

Crosshair grunted as he fiddled with it and his eyes caught the ice vulture screeching in the now clear and serene sky. This place certainly looked different in the sunlight and without the violent snowstorms, and he only wished the outcome from this mission would be more successful than last time. Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“You said this outpost was remote, not abandoned entirely.” You didn’t bother to hide the element of accusation in your tone.

“Well, I didn’t get daily intel briefings in my cell.”

You rolled your eyes at the unsurprising uncooperative response and watched as Hunter moved past you and closer to his brother.

“I get the feeling there’s more to this place than you’re saying.” Hunter said, the distrust in his voice seeping through.

Batcher’s barking disrupted any potential reply and you all turned to see what had got her riled up.

Hunter pulled out his macrobinoculars, “The sensors are giving off a high-frequency tone. She must be reacting to it.”

“What are the sensors for?” You asked Crosshair.

“Perimeter detection against local raiders.” Crosshair responded, already fearing but knowing where this path of questions might lead.

“You didn’t think to warn us about these raiders before?” You countered heatedly.

“No, they were all dealt with.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Take a guess.” Crosshair snarked.

You only shook your head and scoffed.

The answer didn’t please Hunter either and he found himself standing opposite Crosshair once again only this time he felt himself feeling more confrontational than he’d been before, “Just following orders?”

“If you’re scared, why don’t you wait on the ship. I’m sure someone could offer you some… comfort.” He added with a barbed nod in your direction.

You glowered at him and found yourself uncaring if one of their typical fights ensued. You’d seen them both in hand-to-hand many times and you knew who would come out on top in that scenario.

Hunter took half a step forward after the comment, but Echo pushed them both back.

“Hey, kill each other later. We’re here for a reason. Let’s crack into the datapad and get out of here.”

Omega watched the rest of you head to the base, but Crosshair was yet to follow, “I said talk to them, not argue with them.” She chastised.

Crosshair only sighed and muttered, “They started it.”

Omega released an exasperated breath of her own at the lack of from all three of you and made her way to the base too.

--

As the group of you approached the doors, you saw that the doors were blocked by multiple layers of snow.

You couldn’t help but smile behind your mask as you saw the way Batcher excitedly joined Wrecker and Hunter in the digging process.

With Batcher’s assistance, enough snow was dissipated, and you were able to make your way to the doors.

Wrecker pulled them apart and you all entered the facility.

Omega made her way over to the sound of beeping and took up position by one of the consoles and turned the power and lights on, “The power to this outpost has been nearly depleted by the sensor beacons.”

“Then we need to divert all power to this depot.” Echo directed.

“On it.”

“No one else thinks that’s a risky idea?” You tugged your mask down. “We don’t know if there was more that they were meant to keep out.”

“Nothing showed up on the scans, we should be fine.” Echo replied casually before he signalled to Omega that she should keep going.

Echo took up position by another console and took off his helmet like the rest of his brothers.

“So why’d the Empire abandon this place?” Wrecker wondered aloud.

“I guess it served its purpose.” Crosshair said.

“Hmm. Sounds familiar.” Echo said flatly.

You and Hunter watched as Crosshair moved away from the rest of you towards a darkened section of the room.

--

Crosshair shone his torch around the space and saw the collection of discarded clone helmets and he remembered what it had been like when he’d first arrived here. He remembered the respect Mayday had shown him. A respect and understanding that he hadn’t experienced for a long time, and he knew he couldn’t leave them like this.

Hunter observed his actions. He knew his brother and he wouldn’t behave like that for no reason. Whatever had happened to him clearly held more significant than he was letting on.

You too studied Crosshair carefully as he respectfully but solemnly placed the helmets on the crates. Whatever you were sensing about his place was lingering around him. A quick tap on your shoulder brought your attention back to Hunter who jutted his head back towards the rest of the group.

--

“That should do it.” Omega said as the sensors officially powered down and the power diverted so now the entirety of the outpost was lit.

You all crowded around Echo’s position as he plugged the datapad into the system, “Ah it’s working.” He began to digest the copious amounts of information on the screen. “Look at this manifest. There are even more clone prisoners on Tantiss than we thought.”

You all simultaneously turned towards Crosshair who had emerged from the other room.

Crosshair didn’t say anything, instead he noticed Batcher’s agitated growls and the way she was looking outside.

“Where are you going?” Hunter queried as he saw Crosshair heading towards the exit.

“To check the perimeter.”

You and Omega both went to follow them out, but Echo stopped you both.

“Uh, let them work it out. We have to finish this data transfer.”

“But-” You began to object.

“You three rile each other up too much. This won’t be solved by you all looking for ways to score points.” Echo reminded you sensibly.

You may not like it, but you knew deep down that he was right. You watched the two of them fade into the distance before you turned back to help with the datapad.

--

“Are you going to be my shadow everywhere?” Crosshair asked, removing the toothpick from his mouth, and turning around to face Hunter.

“I know you. There’s more you’re not telling us, and I’m done waiting. Start talking, Crosshair. What did you do to finally get on the Empire’s bad side? Betray them, like you did with us?” The last words were said with particular feeling behind them.

Crosshair glanced down at his hand as the tremors started once more. He curled his hand into a fist and shook it out.

--

“Any schematics on there?” Omega asked Echo.

“None that I’m seeing. Just medical records. I think this is all we’re gonna get. At least it’s something.”

You registered a faint rumbling that reverberated around the outpost, and you noticed Batcher anxiously pacing and sniffing the floor. “Batcher?”

Omega turned upon hearing you and she recognised the unusually tense behaviour being exhibited by her dog. “Something’s wrong.”

--

When he’d been met with stony silence, Hunter had closed the distance between him and his brother, “You thought we’d take you back and not ask questions? I don’t think so. Tell me what changed.” The lack of reaction from his brother was infuriating and it got the better of him. He shoved Crosshair’s chest. “What happened, Crosshair?”

Crosshair avoided Hunter’s intense stare as he went through all the possible outcomes of this interaction, but it all came back to one key detail- he wasn’t able to avoid this any longer, “I killed an Imperial officer.”

Hunter was taken aback. It had been a growing suspicion in his mind, but hearing it be true was an entirely different matter.

“So, yes, I did betray them after they betrayed me.” Hunter may have gotten him to say it, but he wasn’t the only one who knew how to push the correct buttons. “Oh, don’t pretend like this is all about me. I tried to warn you, Hunter.” Crosshair turned his back to him. “I risked everything to send you that message. You ignored it.” He turned again so he could see his words finding their mark. “You let Omega be taken to Tantiss. She went through what she did because you failed.” His emotions started to take control as he shoved Hunter back, “You’re angry because she escaped with my help, not yours. And as for (Y/N)-”

“Don’t-” Hunter snarled.

But Crosshair was in full flow now and although part of him knew he’d regret saying them, he couldn’t help himself as the words spilled from his mouth in a way that he knew would cut his brother deeply, “She thought she hid them in time, but I’ve seen the marks around her wrists from binders that were secured too tightly. I’ve seen the scars on her back. Whatever hell she went through is on you too.”

Hunter clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt. White hot rage coursed his veins and all he could see was red but before he could act, Batcher’s distant barking got his attention. It was then he felt the ice beneath them shaking. “Move.” He yanked Crosshair forward just as- what could only be described as a giant ice wyrm- erupted through the snowy ground.

The resulting impact of the ice cracking had seen to it that the ship collapsed further into the snow, but they couldn’t worry about that now, the two of them scrambled to their feet and sprinted back to the base.

--

You all watched anxiously as the other two made their way back with the creature hot on their heels.

When they got close enough, you all retreated further inside, and they managed to dive through doors just before Wrecker shut them.

There was a deep bellow and growl from the creature as it crashed against the doors.

“I guess we know what the perimeter sensors are meant to keep out.” Omega said agitatedly.

Echo felt your standard ‘I told you so’ stare being trained on him. “Not the time.” He groused.

“ ‘We should be fine’ I believe is what you said.” You remarked, raising your eyebrows at him whilst Hunter and Crosshair got to their feet. “I can’t get the ship-” There was another harsh growl and the entire base shook, bringing all of you to your knees.

“Great, what now?” Wrecker grumbled as he turned his torch on.

“I can’t get the ship out of the snow with that thing out there.” You finished your previous sentence as you stood up. “We have to restore power to the sensor beacons.”

Echo jogged over to where Omega had originally rerouted the power. “There’s a fuse box for the reserve energy grid in the back of this compound.”

“One of us needs to get over there and reset the grid manually.” Crosshair said.

“I’ll do it.” Wrecker volunteered immediately.

“And I can get the defense system reactivated once the power’s back.” Omega said.

“We’ll have to draw the creature beyond the sensors before they reboot, or we’ll be trapped inside the perimeter with that thing.” Hunter reminded everyone.

“I’ll do it.” Crosshair said to him.

“Not alone. We’ll do it together.” Hunter replied firmly.

“You sure about that?” Crosshair challenged.

Echo saw you getting ready to also volunteer to go so he placed a hand on your wrist to subtly tell you to stop, “We’ll spot you both from the tower.”

You shot Echo a questioning look but nodded all the same. Brotherly bonding? You guessed, although you wished it was under different and safer circumstances but then again, this felt pretty fitting for them.

Echo gave you a small nod.

Hunter gave you his macrobinoculars before addressing all of you, “Then let’s get to it before it tears the place apart.” Hunter ordered.

--

Helmets and coverings were back on as Wrecker opened the door and you all waited for Hunter’s signal.

Satisfied that the cost was clear, Hunter made the first move and all of you went to your decided positions.

--

“Three o’clock!” Crosshair shouted as he saw the wyrm angling towards Hunter who was a few metres ahead of him. He drew his rifle and opened fire, but they weren’t making contact, the ice was too good a cover.

Hunter turned his head to see the animal explode from the ground. He was able to dive out the way of its jaws but as he landed, he felt the ice crack beneath his feet, and he plummeted downwards.

--

You put down the binoculars and inhaled deeply before releasing a slow, calming breath. You tapped your comm. “Did you just fall through the ice?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m fine.” Came his reply.

He may have been fine, but you could hear the slight strain in his voice. A series of annoyed grumbles left your mouth- how many times was this man going to fall through/from things?

“Why? Why is there always a huge monster?” Wrecker’s voice said through the comms as he made his journey across the show. “Echo, (Y/N), do either of you see it?”

“An excellent question.” You muttered to yourself as you and Echo continued to scan the area for the creature. “We don’t have a visual.” You said into your comm in answer to Wrecker’s second question.

--

“Can you get outside the perimeter from down there?” Crosshair called down to Hunter through the hole in the ice.

Hunter scanned the tunnel ahead with his torch. “I’ll follow the tunnel north. Find out.”

“We’ll track you from up here.” Crosshair said. The ‘we’ now referring to him and Batcher who had joined the fray after seeing Hunter fall.

--

You and Echo continued to search for the creature from your posts.

“Target spotted. It’s right on your tail.” Echo said into the comm to Crosshair. “About a hundred meters and closing.”

“Got it.” Crosshair acknowledged. He came to a stop and drew his sniper. He fired at the oncoming shape in the snow, but the result was the same as before and his trembling hand wasn’t helping matters. He shook it out yet again and repositioned his stance just as the wyrm resurfaced. His shots kept hitting the creature’s shell until one of them finally hit the inside of the mouth, causing it to retreat back underground.

“I think I just made it angrier.” Crosshair mused into the comms.

“Fantastic.” Hunter replied dryly as he continued to run through the tunnel.

--

After finally digging through all the snow that had been blocking the entrance, Wrecker finally made it inside, “Okay, I’ve found the fuse box. What’s next kid?”

“Good. Now prime the breaker.” Omega instructed.

--

“You’re about 400 meters from the perimeter.” Crosshair said into his comms for Hunter’s benefit.

You kept your sights trained on Crosshair and the area around him, “No sign of that thing.” You said into your comm, but you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

--

As they passed the perimeter, Crosshair followed Batcher’s lead this time as she sniffed the ground before letting out an excited bark as she began to dig.

“We’ve found a weak point in the ice. We’ll try to break through.” Crosshair said to Hunter, giving Batcher a praising pat.

“You’ll try?” Both you and Hunter said together.

“Glad you two heard me properly.” Crosshair retorted.

“Crosshair, I swear if-”

“I’ve got him.” Crosshair reassured you with more sincerity than he’d anticipated as he and Batcher began to dig through the ice.

--

“Alright. Breaker’s primed. What next, kid?” Wrecker asked as the screen finally lit up.

“Cycle the navigator. That should be to the right of the main breaker.” Omega replied.

Wrecker did as she said.

--

“Things are getting close in here. Am I gonna have a way out or not?” Hunter asked as the sounds of growls and ice cracking echoed around him.

“If you end up where we hope you do.” Crosshair responded.

“Boom! Power’s online.” Wrecker interjected.

“Hunter, should I activate the beacon?” Omega asked, her hand hovering over the button.

“Wait! We have to make sure the wyrm is past the perimeter.”

--

Crosshair shot into the ice to weaken it and create a bigger opening.

The sound of falling ice and light shining into the tunnel grabbed Hunter’s eye and he made his way under the opening that Crosshair had caused.

“Get up here!” Crosshair urged.

“Not yet. Where’s the wyrm? I can’t find it.”

--

The sound of him refusing to get to safety sent a wave of anxiety through your body but you focused up and helped Echo look around but neither of you could see anything.

--

“It’s past the perimeter!” Hunter said into his comm as a deep bellow sounded in the tunnel and he saw the wyrm emerge ahead of him.

Crosshair pressed his own, “Omega, activate the sensors!”

“Bringing them online now.”

Once Crosshair saw the sensor activate, he reached the end of his rifle down into the tunnel for Hunter to grab onto to pull him out of there. He helped him to his feet just as the wyrm shattered through the ice and the three of them began the run back to the inside of the perimeter.

They dived across the boundary and were relieved to find that the wyrm refused to go any further. It let out an aggrieved howl before moving away from them.

--

You put the binoculars down with a deep sigh of relief as you saw them sitting within the safety of the perimeter.

--

Hunter joined Crosshair in taking off his helmet so as to allow more oxygen to enter his lungs after that rather strenuous task. He then glanced over to see a restrained but warm look on Crosshair’s face as he stroked Batcher.

It was then that something seemed to tentatively slide into place. This mission, weirdly enough, had helped to fill in the gaps. It had brought a sense of normality back and when it had truly come down to it, Crosshair had helped get him to safety.

Crosshair felt Hunter looking at him. He angled his head to meet his stare and as his brother offered a small but sincere nod of gratitude, he gave one back in return.

--

You tugged your hood and mask down and shielded your eyes from the sun as you saw the two oncoming figures and their animal companion.

Echo and Omega came to join you and the three of you watched as their return journey was interrupted by Wrecker running up to them and embracing them both in a needed- but rather one-sided- group hug.

You chuckled as you observed the scene ahead of you and, despite your own worries about Crosshair, it felt good to see that there was room for reconciliation- at least with his own brothers anyway. You weren’t sure how you fit into the equation yet.

“See? They always work it out. And I don’t even see in blood this time. That’s progress.” Echo stated light-heartedly.

“I think the worst I saw between them was after the stampede of Reeks. We wound up having to fix more injures than what we started with.” You reminisced with a smile. The stressful part memory of the incident was pushed to the back of your mind as you remembered that by then, you and Hunter were both experiencing the same feelings for each other. Of course, you hadn’t exactly known that at the time, that information had come out much later.

“Do you know what that was about?” Echo asked you.

You fully looked at him now. “No? I’d left to get more medical supplies. I’d assumed Crosshair just called him an idiot for coming down there after I fell in.”

“I mean, that phrase was certainly used but not in the way you thought.”

You didn’t like the teasing insinuation in his tone. “Then why?” You asked carefully.

“It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he was the first one down there to get you out and took a horn to the rib for his troubles…”

A tossed your head back and humiliated groan left you, “No…”

“Crosshair saw a lot from you two, he always knew just what to say to get the reaction from Hunter that merely proved what we all already knew.” Echo chortled, “Well, almost everybody.”

“Are you kidding me?” Embarrassment graced your face.

“I mean it was so obvious by that point…”

“Yes, Echo.” You mumbled as you exhaled a short, sharp breath.

“The fact that a wounded Hunter still chose to have it out with Crosshair rather than admit it was something else that caused him to come to your aid without an ounce of strategic thinking…”

“Thank you, Echo.” You said through gritted teeth as you saw the delighted grin on Omega’s face as she heard all of this.

“Didn’t you put it together that after that moment you two started ending up in a lot more tiny spaces with conveniently ‘broken’ doors?”

“Alright, you’ve made your point.” You interjected hastily before he could carry on. The obliviousness and- quite frankly- idiocy that you two had conducted yourselves in for the longest time was an element of your relationship you’d rather forget.

Echo merely shot you a knowing smirk, “You never said I was wrong.”

“I’m moving away from you now.” You gave his shoulder a playful shove.

Omega watched you jog away from them but the emotions she was experiencing were far more conflicting. “Do you think the intel we recovered will help you and Rex?”

“We still don’t know the coordinates of Tantiss. But between the datapad and all you and Crosshair have told me, we’re closing to finding and freeing those clones.” Echo replied.

“I wished I could’ve done more to help them.” Omega reflected with regret.

“You did all you could, kid.” Echo laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “And you did exactly what you’re supposed to do. You got out of there.”

--

You managed to give Crosshair a genuine smile of thanks as he and Wrecker passed you by.

Hunter regarded you curiously, “You didn’t need to meet me, I was-”

You placed a hand on his chest and brought yourself closer to him. You didn’t know if your headspace was because things had gotten unnecessarily nerve-wracking or because you’d just been reminded of how much time the two of you had wasted but, in all honesty, you didn’t really care, “I’m going to be unprofessional right now.”

He was too busy getting carried away with the feeling of your body pressing against him to properly register your words, “What-” The rest of his question evaporated as he instantly found himself on his back in the snow with you straddling him and it was a position he didn’t mind being in one bit. His hands instinctively came to rest on your hips.

Stop falling through things. That’s four times now. You scolded affectionately as you traced your lips along his jaw and nudged the side of his nose with yours.

“Is that an order?” He rasped into your ear, teeth grazing the sensitive spot behind it.

“A very firm one.” You murmured before planting a brief but sensual kiss to his lips. You got to your feet, pulling him up with you at the same time. You feigned a look of seriousness and propriety, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Sergeant, I have a ship to recover.”

Hunter found himself not quite wanting to be revert back yet. He kept a hold of your hand and as you went to leave him, he tugged you back to him and kissed you passionately. His hands caressed your back and tangled themselves in the fabric of your top and he used your surprised gasp to deepen the kiss.

You parted from him when your lungs rather inconveniently insisted that they have some air. You stroked a hand through his hair as you saw the emotions behind his eyes. There was more behind that action than just a response what you’d just done. You couldn’t be sure as to what that could be but the only time, he hadn’t been around you was when he’d followed Crosshair outside the first time. “What did he say?” You asked, your voice quiet and soothing.

“Nothing.” Hunter replied quickly. They’d been words designed to strike a nerve and they’d been said and used in anger, he shouldn’t have let them resonate.

“Hunter-”

His relationship was on the mend with Crosshair, and he knew that process still had to start with you both. And… and he wanted that for you two. There’s be no sense in bringing it up and causing further strife when he’d already had your reassurance on the issue. “It’s nothing. Not really.”

You searched his eyes for any lingering hesitation or reluctance, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He confirmed. Hunter angled his head towards Echo’s ship “Go rescue the ship so we can get outta here.” He said with a fond grin.

“Sir, yes, sir.” You saluted him humorously before you stepped away and made for the ship.

--

Crosshair had watched the two of you from afar. What he had witnessed wasn’t wholly different to how things had been before Kaller but there was something more to it now. What he had seen between you both was pure and unfiltered. There was no hiding, there was no denial or deflection anymore. There was no question or doubt to be had in the intensity and genuine nature of the feelings- in the love- the two of you shared and if he had any shot of fitting back in, he needed to make things right with both of you.

He took a deep breath for courage and headed in your direction.

--

You gently lowered the ship onto more stable ground and released a few tired breaths.

“Not bad. Guess there’s some benefits to having you around.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Crosshair come to stand next to you, but you didn’t look at him yet, instead you nudged the toes of your boots through the snow. “Uh huh.” You answered distantly. “Surprised you’re wanting to stand so close to me.”

The way your posture tensed as he approached had not gone unnoticed, “I think we should talk.”

“Oh, do you?” You replied hotly.

Crosshair exhaled an irritated sigh, “Seriously? This is me trying here, can’t you meet me halfway?”

You breathed heavily and fully turned to face him. You crossed your arms as you signalled that he was to go first.

Crosshair cleared his throat before he started to speak, “Seeing that poster… seeing what you truly were and knowing that they all- that he- knew that day on Kamino… I was brought back to that time and all I could think about was how could he fall in love with a Jedi but not the Empire.”

“The two aren’t the same, Crosshair.” You replied sombrely.

“Believe me, I know that now.” Crosshair remarked wryly.

You uncrossed your arms and spoke to him candidly and kept your voice steady, “We can’t get past this if all you see when you look at me is that wanted image of me. If all you see when you look at me is the things that I’ve done. If all you feel when you look at me is hatred because you think my people committed treason.” You stopped as you felt the emotions rise in your throat as they threatened to overcome you. You swallowed roughly before going again, your voice still steady but it had dropped in volume, “If you think I should’ve died along with the rest of them that day… then- then the friend that I had is truly gone.”

Crosshair’s eyes flitted to the ground, then to your lightsaber before he looked back to you, “I really thought the Empire was the way forward… for all of us. I can’t- I can’t speak for how I would’ve acted back then. I wish I could, but I can’t.” He swallowed harshly, “But I can tell you how I will be now.”

“And?” You asked quietly.

“I- I might need some time to adjust but- but as far as I’m concerned, you’re still the same person we met on Devaron that got our asses out of a tricky spot and who fit in with us like you’d been a part of things since the beginning. I won’t turn on you.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly as you studied him but there was no deceit behind his words. No deception or trickery in his face. He meant what he was saying, and it filled you with hope. “Really?”

“Really.” He confirmed before half a smile tugged at him mouth, “Plus, even if I wanted to, I don’t fancy my chances with the rest of them if I tried something.” He joked.

You visibly relaxed. Being at odds with him was never something you wanted to be and if he was open to starting afresh then you could be too. “If it helps, since I chose to leave the Order, technically speaking, I’m probably not even counted as a Jedi anymore.”

Crosshair hummed out a short laugh, “It’s something, I guess.”

“Believe it or not, a wanted ad was not how I planned for you to find out so, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in the time after Devaron.”

He dipped his head in acceptance. “Probably did yourself a favour.” He mumbled sheepishly.

“Probably.” You agreed with a soft laugh.

There was a beat of mildly uncomfortable silence between you before Crosshair spoke in an attempt to ease some of the lingering awkwardness, “So, you and my brother…”

“Don’t start.” You said with an exasperated grin as you held out your hand to him.

Crosshair faltered for a second, but he willed his hand to stay steady as he mirrored your actions.

As you clasped it, you were hit and overpowered by the familiar sensation you had been questioning since arriving and it all connected to the clone in front of you. You withdrew your hand swiftly as the realisation hit you, “It was here.” You said with a shaky breath.

Crosshair was caught off guard by the intensity of your reaction and the words that followed. There’d been no way for you to hear his conversation with Hunter and he hadn’t said anything to anyone else. “I don’t know what you mean.” He denied uneasily.

But you knew now, he couldn’t lie to you about it, “What happened to you to get you to Tantiss. It was on this planet.” You said, titling your head at him, concern, and compassion in your gaze.

The certainty in your voice told him that there’s be no point in lying to you. Crosshair gulped. “How’d you know?”

“I felt it. Months ago, I felt it. I didn’t know that it was you, or what exactly was going on, but I sensed something.” You paused for a second, “I felt the cold and the isolation. And- and the pain. A lot of pain.” You said gravely as you fully comprehended how things had gone for him.

Crosshair avoided your stare. “Well, I made a lot of choices that led me to that.” He said with plenty of self-deprecation.

You laid a delicate hand on his shoulder, “Crosshair, you should never have to experience that type of pain. What you had to go through…” You trailed off with a knowing sigh before continuing, “I’m sorry, really I am.”

Crosshair looked at you with a different type of intensity, “You didn’t either.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had not been as careful as you’d thought you’d been and it was your turn for denial to spill from your lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You may not be a Jedi, but you’re not the only one who can pick up or notice things people think they’re hiding. Sharpshooter, remember?”

You fidgeted with your gloves and found yourself unable to look at him. “They tortu- I did some things- made some choices that I-” You scrambled trying to find the words to explain what he’d seen.

Crosshair shook his head at you to get you to stop, “I’m not in a position to judge, I was wrong to do so when we left that moon.”

You saw the sincerity in his face and nodded gratefully.

You two shared in the quiet of a new mutual understanding before you puffed out a short breath to reset and you activated your comm, “The ship is good to go.”

“And, uh, everyone is still in one piece?” Came Wrecker’s tentative reply.

Crosshair shared in your eye roll. Evidently the others had been even more sceptical about this moment than he’d been.

“Yes, Wrecker. Civilised conversation is a possibility sometimes.” You kidded in return, “Now, can we please leave this planet?”

--

Crosshair waited for Hunter to emerge from the base as the rest of you boarded the ship. As he saw him getting ready to walk past, he called his name, “Hunter?”

Hunter paused and glanced back at him expectantly.

“I… thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire. I thought I was being a good soldier.” Crosshair admitted, keeping his back to him in case the look on his face was the one that he feared he would see.

Hunter took a second to find the right words, “Nobody really understood what was happening back then.”

Crosshair lifted his head in surprise at the accepting tone in Hunter’s voice. Maybe there truly was a way forward. He turned around, “I’ve done things. I’ve made mistakes.”

“I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better.” He found his eyes being drawn to yours as you waited by the doorway, but he brought them back to his brother. “And who knows? There might be hope for us yet.”

Crosshair stole one last glance up at the ice vulture screeching in the sky. Hope? Not a sentiment he had been overly familiar with these past few months, but he needed it. He started to walk towards the ramp.

Hunter paused to stand by you as you leaned against the entry way. The supportive and loving way you were looking at him made his heartbeat that little bit faster but there was also a mischievous gleam in your eyes that sent warmth thrumming through his veins. “Stop that.”

“Am I not allowed to look at you, sir?” You queried, a teasing lilt to your voice. A delighted smirk graced your face as you saw the way his throat bobbed as he attempted to remain composed.

He caged you against the wall, “You can’t play that game right now.” He warned, his voice a low rasp.

Your own breathing hitched as his body pushed against yours. “What game?” You managed to murmur.

“Oh, well, if this behaviour is going to continue to be a running theme, you can just leave me here.” Crosshair said with light-hearted mocking. “I don’t know what’s worse, dealing with you two now or dealing with how you to were before all this became... official.”

“You get used to it!” Omega called from the belly of the ship.

“We hardly ever interrupt them now!” Wrecker added.

“Cut it out!” Hunter barked as he stepped away from you and gathered himself.

You also took a moment to straighten up and shake off the lingering anticipation in your veins.

“Yeah, plus he’s a lot more relaxed since they finally worked up the courage to actually make it real!” Echo’s voice entered the conversation.

“I’ll bet.” Crosshair remarked with a smirk.

“Get your ass on the ship.” You retorted with a good-humoured shove to his back.

Crosshair chuckled quietly to himself as he half-stumbled into the ship.

“Back to professionals?” Hunter advised as he shook his head in response to the antics of his family.

“Probably a good idea.” You agreed with a pleasant grin before the two of you fully entered the ship just as the ramp came up and it took off.

--

It may have been at your expense, but that small teasing moment had symbolised that the mending of the relationships you all had once was indeed possible. Finally, things were starting to feel more like the used to be.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @notgonnaedit

[ironstrange1991]

Forbidden (Part 5)

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Stark throws a party to celebrate the mission's return and Y/n decides it's time to tell Stephen the truth.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Descriptions of one single sexual act (almost nothing)

A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to post this chapter, but I always have the feeling that when it comes to this series I'm writing more for myself than anyone else. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. The ending is a bit silly, but I couldn't help it and I actually found it funny.

SERIES MASTERLIST

"Take Romanoff to the medical wing" Stark ordered as soon as they set foot in the Tower "Bruce, go with her. Let me know if there are any changes".

Bruce accompanied Barton and Steve who were carrying Romanoff on a makeshift stretcher. They disappeared into the elevator.

"Is she going to be okay?" Stark asked turning around and facing Stephen. Stephen nodded "The injuries are serious, but as far as I could examine there was no neurological damage. With proper care she should be fine, but I doubt she'll be back to work anytime soon."

Tony sighed heavily putting a hand to his face and then looked around "For a moment I thought I would never come home."

Thor patted him on the shoulder "Good job, Stark."

"If you'll excuse me I'm going to take a shower and sleep for three nights straight" Sam said waving to Stephen "See you around, Doctor."

Stephen just shook his head. He was supposed to go back to the Sanctum, but he was still standing there waiting to see you. During all that unbearable mission he could only think of you. How he wanted to come home and see you smiling at him.

"If it's not to much to ask, Doctor, I need to get back to New Asgard." Thor said and then turned to Stark, "Keep me posted on Romanoff's recovery."

"So you have a computer now?" Stephen asked wryly.

Thor smirked "Better than that, I have a phone in my house."

Stephen rolled his eyes "Yeah, right. Super modern." He moved his fingers opening a portal "Have a nice day."

Thor walked through the portal and then looked back, "Don't forget to invite me to the party, Stark."

Tony nodded and the portal closed. He patted Stephen on the chest "You did really well there, you know, with all that magic. It was quite useful."

Stephen rolled his eyes "You didn't do too badly either."

Tony grinned "See, I said we make a good team. The mechanic and the magician" Tony said pretending to write in the air.

"We both know we're neither of those things." Stephen answered dryly and Tony glared at him and was ready to respond with something intelligent when Y/n turned the corner and ran towards them. Stephen's heart sped up when her eyes focused on him and for a millisecond he thought she would hug him, but then she hugged Stark who squeezed her in his arms lifting her off the ground.

Stephen swallowed thickly. There was something in his chest that he wasn't quite sure what it was, but it wasn't pleasant.

"You're here" Your voice sounded choked with the tears you were trying to hold back, but tears were streaming down your face as you cupped Stark's face turning it to one side and then the other "Are you okay? Tell me you're okay! " You grabbed his arms and kept looking to check for injuries.

"I'm fine, darling." And then you broke down in a desperate cry and Tony went back to hug you now stroking your hair and shushing you "I'm sorry, I tried to communicate with you..."

Jealousy. Stephen was feeling jealous. For some reason he wondered if for a moment you had missed him, or if you had worried that he might get hurt too, but you only had eyes for Stark and it was unreasonable to bother with that, but he was bothered.

He cleared his throat to remind you he was still there and then spoke in a voice more husky than he'd expected, "Well, I need to go back to the Sanctum. Call me for updates on Romanoff, Stark."

You stepped away from Stark wiping the tears with your hands "Doctor Strange... I'm sorry, I... Are you okay? America was so worried! She called me every day asking about you."

Stephen smiled. Apparently next to Stark he was Doctor Strange to you and not just Stephen. Interesting. "I'm fine. Thanks for keeping an eye on her while I was gone."

You nodded "I didn't really do much. She stayed most of the time at Kamar Taj. Wong was keeping her almost like a prisoner." You gave him a shy smile which made his heart jump in his chest. Stephen chuckled "Poor thing. Anyway, I need to go now."

You nodded and then frowned "Where's Nat?" It was Stark who replied "She got hurt… badly."

Stephen saw the horror in your face. "Where is she?"

"She's with Banner in the medical wing, there's a whole team of doctors taking care of her and besides, the doctor here said she's going to be fine, so it's bad, but no need to worry."

You exhaled heavily and then addressed him "Did you examine her?"

Stephen nodded "As far as I could with the few resources I had. She will be fine now."

You nodded "It was good to see you Doctor Strange." Stephen shook his head and opened a portal to the Sanctum.

"I'll keep you posted, Doctor." Stark said.

"Good." Stephen replied crossing the portal.

"You're coming to the party, aren't you?"

You glared at Tony "Party?"

Tony nodded "A victory like that deserves to be celebrated with a big party."

You looked at Stephen anxiously for his answer and he gave you his best smirk. "I wouldn't miss a Stark party." And just as he knew you would, you blushed and gave him that open smile he was dying to see again.

...

Natasha had two surgeries that afternoon. One to stop the internal bleeding in her abdomen and one to place two titanium screws in her knee. The doctors ran tests to check that everything was fine with her head, but just like Stephen said, everything was fine. When she finally went to one of the rooms in the Tower's medical wing you made a point of staying by her side until she woke up which didn't happen until 2am.

"Fuck...that hurts." It was the first thing she said. You got up immediately. She glared at you then smiled "Good to see you, Crazy."

You smiled back "Welcome back."

"Uh hm. Water... I need water."

You helped her drink from the cup and then gently hugged her "I missed you, Nat. Then you came back and scared me to death. Two surgeries!"

She gave a small laugh and then groaned in pain "You know I'm dramatic. Why go through one surgery when I can go through two. Besides, guys love it when women are in danger. I bet Bruce was here all day ."

You chuckled "You're right. He barely left your side."

She smiled "See, I'm always right."

You sat down on the bed next to her "Tony said things were really bad out there."

You watched Nat's face darken with some traumatizing memory and you rushed to say "We don't need to talk about this if you don't want to. There's so much I want to talk to you about."

She stared at you for a long moment and then smirked "Tell me it's not about Doctor Strange."

You looked at her slightly offended "Of course not. Do you really think I spent these three weeks thinking about him?"

She sighed "It is about Doctor Strange. Okay, spit it out. I hope there's something new this time, because honestly, it's getting pathetic, Y/n"

You looked at her slightly offended, but decided to let it go "He said he likes me."

Her eyes widened and you continued "And he took me to lunch the day you left for the mission."

Nat opened her mouth to speak a few times and then closed it again.

"I know you think he's too old for me, but I don't care, Nat."

"What about Tony? He cares."

You did not answer.

She sighed "Look, Strange is a nice guy. A bit arrogant, but he's a nice guy and if you like him I'll support you. But, Y/n, proceed with caution, please. Remember, he is more than twice your age, maybe you two want different things from each other and I don't want you to get hurt and I won't answer for my actions if that happens."

You nodded holding her hand "You're like the sister I never had, you know that, don't you?"

She nodded "I will always support you no matter what you do. Just don't kill anyone."

"Why not? You're the person I would call and ask for help to hide the body."

Nat giggled and then grimaced placing her hand on her abdomen. "Fuck, Y/n, I can't laugh right now, it hurts."

"Sorry" You squeezed her hand "Just... support me on this Nat. I really like him."

She sighed "Trust me, I know."

You stayed there with Nat four hours. You couldn't leave her alone. You talked about anything and everything that had nothing to do with the mission. Apparently, whatever had happened, it wasn't something Natasha wanted to think about.

It the sun was rising when you were interrupted by a knock on the door and Yelena came in "Hey, Y/n. I came to see if Nat... Hi, you're awake finally."

She approached and you took the opportunity to say goodbye "Well, I will leave you with Yelena, Nat. Need to try to get some sleep."

She smiled. “See you.”

"How are you feeling?" You heard Yelena ask before leaving and closing the door behind you.

...

HOW IS ROMANOFF?

You stared at the phone's screen for a minute trying to make your mind understand that the message was really from Stephen. It had been two weeks since they had returned from the mission and Natasha was progressing very well although she had to use crutches which she was hating.

You finally managed to type an answer that was actually another question.

MAY I KNOW HOW YOU GOT MY NUMBER?

You bit your bottom lip waiting for him to respond.

I KIDNAPPED AMERICA'S PHONE AND MEMORIZED IT.

You couldn't tell exactly what expressions you were making as you stared at your phone, but something about your face caught Natasha and Yelena's attention. The three of you were in the lounge on the Tower's hosting floor talking and basically killing time as you watched Tony and Pepper argue over who to invite to the party Tony was keen to throw even though Nat was still recovering.

He went back to typing.

SO, HOW IS SHE?

You typed a quick reply trying to hide your excitement as Tony and Pepper approached.

SHE'S FINE, SHE'S RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF ME, ACTUALLY.

"Romanoff looks great, look at her!" You heard Tony saying and Pepper replied "I think we should wait another week or two."

Tony crossed his arms "It's a victory party, if we wait too long we'll be off on another mission."

Nat tsked "Speak for yourself, I'm off the radar for new missions for the next three months at least."

I MISS YOU.

You smiled from ear to ear feeling your face heat up.

YOU KNOW YOU CAN INVITE ME TO DINNER ANYTIME.

"Y/n, I'm talking to you. I need your help here!" You heard Tony saying and reluctantly looked up from your phone.

"Yeah, of course. You're right" You mumbled turning your attention to Stephen's answer.

YES I KNOW. WOULD YOU LIKE THAT?

You were about to answer when Tony stopped in front of you "May I know who you are talking to? Who is more important than me?"

Nat and Yelena started to giggle and Tony glared at both of them and then you "Is there something going on that I don't know about?"

Pepper stared at you for a long moment and then changed the subject "Okay Tony you want to have the party let's have the party. Is that okay, Nat?"

Nat shook her head "Are you really going to make me wear a dress with this horrible thing on my leg?"

Tony chuckled "You look great either way Romanoff, plus I'm sure Bruce doesn't mind."

You weren't paying enough attention to know what Nat replied. Your face was hot and you were still processing Stephen's messages. Was he really flirting with you?

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?"

You waited for his answer that came right away.

YOUR GODFATHER PROMISED ME A PARTY. I WAS WAITING TO SEE YOU THERE.

You turned your attention to Tony "So when's the party?"

He stared at Pepper waiting for an answer.

Pepper sighed "If I can organize everything it will be this Saturday."

You couldn't  contain the wide smile that took over your face.

LOOKS LIKE I'LL SEE YOU SATURDAY THEN.

He quickly typed a reply.

EXCELLENT. I HAVE TO GO NOW, SWEETHEART. DUTY IS CALLING.

The pet name. That pet name never failed to draw a breath out of you.

SEE YOU, DOCTOR

You closed your cell phone screen and threw it on the couch next to you. Tony and Pepper had walked away still working out the details of the party and Nat and Yelena were staring at you curiously.

"So..." Nat finally asked.

You grinned "I need to buy a dress. A really, really gorgeous dress."

Yelena smiled “I think I can help you with that."

...

You were standing there looking in the mirror and wondering if the dress you chose wasn't a little too much. It was a strapless red dress with a heart cutout at the neckline. It was short and flared with a black bow cinching the waist. That dress combined with your hair tied in a ponytail, a diamond necklace and your tattoos seemed too much.

You sighed hearing the cell phone vibrate and walked away from the mirror. Anyway, now it was too late to choose another dress.

You read the message on your cell phone, it was from America.

WE ARE LATE. WE HAVE JUST ARRIVED FROM KAMAR TAJ AND STEPHEN LOOKS LIKE HE IS GETTING READY FOR A WEDDING. BUT WE WILL BE THERE SOON.

You smiled from ear to ear. You couldn't wait to see him. You responded with a smiley emoji and then nodded to yourself as if trying to encourage yourself and then went downstairs.

The hall was full, the music was loud. There were people there that you had no idea who they were. Some must have been Stark Industries shareholders, others were probably magazine columnists, journalists, in short, everyone Tony liked to invite to stay on the covers of magazines.

You walked between the tables getting too many stares which made you question again if you hadn't gone too far with the choice of your dress. Fortunately, you bumped into Thor, the first known face, who hugged you tight, taking all your worries out of your head.

"Hey, it's good to see you. You look beautiful!"

You smiled looking up to actually look at his face "You too"

He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards the table where he was sitting with Steve, Sam and Bruce. "This girl..." Thor said pointing at you and the three of them  stared at you "She would be a queen in Asgard."

You stared blankly at Thor and then he took a sip from his cup and went back to saying "Singing is important to the Asgardians."

Sam nodded "Will you sing for us tonight Y/n?"

You shook your head "Not really."

Bruce disagreed "Tony rented a karaoke machine, he intends to get everyone singing tonight."

You chuckled "I'm going to love to hear you boys singing."

Steve chuckled shyly and then took a good look at you "Looking really pretty Y/n, expecting someone?"

You felt your face get hot. Was it that obvious?

"Are your friends from the band coming? Mike, that's the guy's name, right?" Sam asked "He seems to like you."

You shook your head feeling the air leave your lungs slowly. "I didn't actually invite them. No work tonight, just fun."

"And what kind of fun are we talking about?" Sharon asked approaching with Maria Hill right behind her. The two had apparently only left to fetch their drinks from the bar. Sharon sat next to Steve and you watched as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Such an intimate gesture in front of everyone. You wondered if it would ever be possible for you and Stephen to have that kind of intimacy. That is, of course, if he was really interested. You couldn’t really tell.

"So what were you talking about?" Maria asked sipping her drink and you shrugged "Thor was complimenting my singing skills"

"She's amazing" Thor said again and Hill agreed "Your show at the last party was amazing, Y/n. I'm addicted to your songs." Hill completed.

"I'm following you on Spotify" Sharon said "And I want to go to one of your shows. Steve knows that, I'm trying to convince him to take me."

Steve chuckled "Loud music and night clubs aren't really my style, but we'll definitely go."

You grinned "Well, let's set a date then."

...

You were extremely bored and couldn't stop looking at the time on your cell phone display.

You were sitting at the table with Pepper, Tony, Rhodes, Happy and Fury listening to them talk about the mission and about a new mission that Fury wanted Tony and Steve to lead, this one apparently would be on Russian territory and Fury was really disappointed because Natasha would not be able to go with them.

You kept scanning the room with your eyes looking for Stephen and Pepper seemed to sense your uneasiness because she couldn't take her eyes off you.

You had been surprised to see Fury at Tony's party, he never attended social events, but then you understood. He was there on a mission of his own, ready to deliver new work to those he considered to be the leaders of the Avengers.

After a while you could see that Pepper was uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, but you weren’t paying attention to what they were saying because your eyes were fixed on the entrance of the hall, waiting to see Stephen who at that time should have already arrived. Deep down you feared that something had happened and he wouldn't come anymore.

"I thought Ms. Y/l/n would eventually become an Avenger as well, but it looks like she chose a more glamorous side of life." Fury said trying to get your attention.

You smiled at the old man "Unfortunately I don't have super powers, Director Fury, and I'm also too clumsy to fight like Nat or Agent Hill. If you saw me working out you'd be embarrassed"

He let out a rare chuckle, "Well, I'm sure you'd do well in one of your godfather's suits. Mrs. Potts wears hers on special occasions."

Pepper shook her head as she sipped from her cup, "It was a one time thing, Fury, and I swear I won't do it again."

"There is a prototype armor for Y/n, I'm still working on it." Tony said proudly.

You chuckled "I've already told Tony he doesn't have to bother because I'm not going to use it. I prefer my books and my music. Someone need to be ordinary in this family."

Tony shook his head "There's nothing ordinary about you darling, you're amazing" He put his arm around your shoulders and placed a small kiss on your cheek and only then did he really seem to look at you "That boy Mike, he's coming by tonight?"

You shook your head, feeling your face heat up when you realized that he made an association between your dress and a possible love interest.

"I didn't invite the band." You admitted.

"Why didn't you invite them? Mike seems like a nice kid, I think he likes you."

You were about to answer when you saw Stephen and America entering the hall and suddenly the words disappeared from your mind.

America looked beautiful in a cute pink dress, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, but your attention was riveted on the sorcerer dressed in one of the many Armani suits he owned.

"Y/n?" Tony was still waiting for your answer and you had to reluctantly look away from Stephen.

"Tony, Mike and I have nothing to do with each other."

"You needed to see the answer she gave the boy when he asked her out." Happy told laughing and you stared at him, glaring daggers.

"He's too young. And too stupid." You defended yourself.

"He must be what? 25 years old? Not that much younger." Rhodes said, deciding to intrude on the conversation. That was actually the problem with practically being raised in that Tower, all the Avengers felt that they were somehow responsible for you and therefore couldn’t mind their own business."

"I think I like older men." You said feeling a little brave, your eyes went back to looking for Stephen in the hall finding him standing next to Steve's table talking and as he rarely did laughing.

"You're too young to say something like that." Tony said scolding you "Besides, Mike is older than you, he likes the same things you like..."

You sighed in frustration "You forgot I just mentioned he's stupid."

"Y/n, you're exaggerating. The boy is hardworking. He studies, works in the band..."

"Tony, it's never going to happen, okay? Can we change the subject now?" You said looking back at Stephen from a distance and feeling Pepper's eyes fixed on you. When you dared to look at her, she was looking in the same direction as you, brow furrowed with concern, but you couldn't care less and as soon as you watched Stephen heading alone to the bar you stood up "If you'll excuse me."

...

Stephen scanned the crowded room with his eyes looking for you as soon as he and America set foot there. It didn't take long for him to see you sitting at the table with Stark, Rhodes, Pepper, Happy and director Fury. Stark had an arm around your shoulder.

"Tony's parties are always so amazing." America said envisioned with all the extravagance that Stephen was already used to, but which for her was incredible.

"Are we calling him Tony yet?" He asked staring at her with an arched eyebrow.

She just stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hey Doctor, come over here." Came Thor's booming voice.

The two walked to a table further away on the left side of the room where Rogers, Carter, Wilson, Hill, Thor and Banner were.

"Nice to see you, doctor" Steve greeted him.

"How is Romanoff?" He asked and it was Banner who answered. "She's much better." Stephen couldn't help but notice the tone of relief in the man's voice. If it wasn't clear to Natasha, it was clear enough to everybody else that Bruce was in love with her.

"She's not too happy about the idea of ​​using crutches, but she should be down soon." Sharon Carter completed.

"What about you, little girl, how is life in a new universe?" Hill asked and America grinned.

"It's great. I like it here, all the differences are fascinating and Kamar Taj is so cool. It would be even cooler if Wong and Stephen weren't so bossy."

Everyone at the table laughed and Stephen confined himself to a smile, his eyes back on the table where you were. God, you were beautiful. Actually beautiful was an understatement. You wore a red dress that he couldn't see well from that distance, but your hair was tied back in a ponytail which was different from what Stephen was used to. He loved your air, but this way it was possible to see more of your beautiful face...

"Strange...?"

Stephen turned his attention to Steve who had asked a question to which Stephen paid no attention. "I'm sorry, can you say that again?"

America had sat down next to Maria Hill and the two had engaged in a conversation about how in one of the universes she had visited, people were made of ink.

"I asked how it feels to take a trip to another universe."

Stephen chuckled dryly "Not a good experience."

"He threw up." America said and Thor laughed exaggeratedly. "You humans are so fragile."

Stephen shook his head "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get something to drink."

He walked towards the bar and asked for a shot of whiskey which he drank in one gulp and asked for another right after.

There was an internal struggle in Stephen ever since he had lunch with you before the mission. He was trying to convince himself that he shouldn't continue this flirtation, that it would inevitably lead to trouble once Stark realized what was happening. But on the other hand, he was tempted to take it further and find out how far you would go.

He downed his whiskey in one gulp and asked for a third. Double, no ice.

That afternoon you had challenged him by asking if he was aware that despite being Tony Stark's goddaughter, you were a legal adult and he was very much aware of that, he just didn't know what to do with it, how to proceed.

He wanted you, that was as clear to him as day, but the consequences seemed too grave.

He was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice that you had approached.

"You look lonely. Need some company, doctor?"

He smiled and turned to look at you and his heart skiped a beat. Holy fuck, you looked beyond beautiful, you looked indecently sexy in that red dress. It was definitely too short in Stephen's eyes. He caught himself wondering how Stark let you walk around dressed like that.

The color suited you, not to mention it highlighted your tattoos. Stephen never liked tattoos, but on you he did. There were so many. Spread across your arms, your legs. One he was particularly fond of was a chest piece. A bluebird trapped in a cage trying to escape. He wondered if that was how you saw yourself.

"Stephen... you're staring." You said and then addressed the bartender. "A martini for me, please. And another whiskey for the doctor."

"I'm sorry... I got distracted by all this" He said gesturing to you. You blushed looking down at your dress.

"Is it too much? I thought you might like it." You said accepting the drink and taking a long gulp.

"Your whiskey, sir." Stephen accepted and turned his attention to you.

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. It was meant to be a compliment. You look beautiful, Y/n."

You smiled charmingly at him. "I got it right then. It's hard to know what you like, Stephen."

He had to convince himself that he heard you right. You were really saying that you dressed like that for him. If that didn't answer his doubts about your true intentions, he couldn't say what would.

"Red suits you. It highlights your eyes, your hair and your tattoos."

You shook your head vehemently "I thought so. You look very handsome too, Stephen. As much as I love to see you in your robes, I have to say, you look much better in Armani. Almost irresistible."

He chuckled taking a long drink of his whiskey and feeling the alcohol starting to kick in.

"I didn't get a chance to say how happy I am that you're okay. I was so worried." You said looking away from him. Somehow you could flirt with him naturally, but you couldn't look him in the eye and tell him you liked him enough to be concerned when he went on a mission.

"I thought about you, Y/n, the whole time I was there." He admitted. "I knew I needed to go back because I needed to see you again. It was all I could think about."

You smiled, your cheeks turning pink. "You say these things, but you still haven't asked me out to dinner."

He smirked finishing his whiskey and too impatiently, filled the glass with a wave of his fingers. He looked around subtly "Is this what you want?"

"Well, Doctor, I'm more interested at the moment in knowing what you want. You are a mystery to me."

He touched your hand that was on  the top of the counter "Would it be too obvious if we left here and went somewhere quieter?"

You looked at him in surprise, but nodded in agreement "Not if I go first."

He nodded as he watched you walk away. God, that dress was doing things to him. He drank the rest of the whiskey, put the glass on the counter and walked out after you. He should have thought that in fact it was pretty obvious to anyone who could eventually be paying attention to the two of you, but he couldn't care less at that point. Maybe it was the alcohol that had made him so reckless.

You took the elevator and went up to the tower's hosting floor. Tony Stark could be irritating, but Stephen couldn't deny that he was extremely generous. There lived most of the Avengers who made the team their family. Those who didn't live there, lived in the compound in the country side of the city.

Stephen watched you turn on the lights and flop down on the huge sofa in the center of the room.

"Much better, don't you think?" You asked kicking off the extremely high heels you were wearing and putting your feet up on the sofa, making yourself comfortable. You could still hear the music coming from the lower floor.

"Yes. I used to like parties, but that was a long time ago." He said putting both hands in his pockets. He continued to stand, resisting the urge to sit down next to you.

"But you've been coming to Tony's parties a lot recently, for someone who doesn't like parties it's a little contradictory."

He smirked knowing full well what you were suggesting. He knew you wanted to hear him say it. He walked slowly towards the black grand piano that stood beside the panoramic window. The view of the city lights from that height was truly breathtaking. "You know damn well why I've been coming to your godfather’s parties." He said sitting down on the stool in front of the piano.

"I don't know anything, Stephen. And I'm getting tired of not knowing."

He nodded opening the lid and touching the piano keys gently. "I used to play the piano before the accident. I could still play if I wanted to, but I don't see much truth in having to use magic to do anything at all."

Stephen could hide it from himself all he wanted, but he could never really come to terms with the damage of his hands and how it completely changed his life. He was still ashamed of the scars, for that reason he used to keep his hands in his pockets when he was around you. And also because he could control himself better that way when all he wanted was to touch you.

"I would love to hear you play. What would you play for me?" You rested your cheek adorably on your hand watching him as if he were the most important thing in the world to you and Stephen felt his heart racing in his chest.

"Love is blindness" He replied without putting much thought into it. Maybe it was because he had been listening to that song on repeat for a few days now because it made him think of you.

"Jack White's song?" You asked sounding surprised. He shook his head closing the piano again and getting up "U2's song. Bono wrote it in 1990 and it was released in 1991 on the Achtung Baby album. Jack White covered it at the request of The Edge in 2011".

You looked surprised "I didn't know that. I always thought it was Jack White’s song."

"There's a lot you don't know, apparently." He said teasing you. He sat down on the sofa, careful to keep a safe distance, but as soon as he sat down, you crawled closer to him.

"I love knowing about these things and you seem to like U2."

He smiled "A lot. You don't like them?"

You grimaced "Not much. But to be fair, I never stopped to listen to their music. Only One, With or Without you and Beautiful Day."

Stephen rolled his eyes exaggeratedly "You have no idea what you're missing." He reached out to touch your hand that laid lazily on your thigh. "Promise me you'll listen carefully and then tell me what you think."

"Recommend me a song, then. It can't be Love is blindness because I already know that one."

Stephen smirked "Let's stick to the same album at least. I want you to listen to Ultraviolet and think of me while you do it, because I think of you when I'm listening to it."

You bit your lower lip "Anything for you, doctor."

...

You turned your hand over and Stephen laced his fingers through yours. You were surprised by his boldness, but you were totally determined to play along to see how far he would go. More than that, maybe you'd give him a little push. You had promised MJ and yourself that this would be the night you finally told him how you felt. The timing couldn't be more perfect.

Suddenly the air seemed thicker, your heart was pounding and you could hear it pounding in your ears.

"Stephen..."

He threatened to pull his hand away from yours, but you wrapped your other hand above his to keep it there.

"There's something I need to tell you. It's been a long time, I should have said it already."

He stared at you with those blue eyes waiting for what you had to say and the words just seemed to slip out of your head. Everything you had rehearsed tirelessly in front of the mirror while wearing that ridiculous dress just disappeared.

"Y/n..."

You shushed him "Please, let me talk. You can do whatever you want after, you can laugh, you can walk away, but first let me say it."

"Why would I laugh?"

You bit the inside of your cheek.

"Stephen I'm in love with you. If I haven't made it too obvious yet, I'm saying it now. I was always in love with you, even before the blip. I was too young to understand how problematic that was and then you disappeared for five years, but I never stopped thinking about you. The day you came back was the happiest of my life and I promised myself that having you around would be enough, but it's not enough."

You sighed heavily "I'm tired of this fruitless flirting, I want more than this and I think you want it too. It's not possible that I got it all wrong, I'm not that stupid..."

"You didn't get it wrong" He comfirmed.

You exhaled heavily only then realizing you were holding your breath. You kept your head down because you couldn't look at him. Your cheeks were on fire.

He touched your face, cupping your cheek and making you look at him.

"I thought I made it clear that I have feelings for you the night I saved you at the night club, young lady."

You shook your head negatively. "You said you liked me, then the other day you said you liked me as a friend..."

"I already explained myself about that. America and Wong were there and I was scared, Y/n." He tried to reason. "Do you understand how complicated this is? I'm more than twice your age and your godfather is the fucking Tony Stark."

You shook your head "I know, but I don't care. I'm an adult, I can make my own choices, Stephen."

He stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I know. That's why I'm here."

That was going better than you thought. Wasn't? At least he hadn't laughed, and it didn't look like he was going to walk away.

"So?" You asked impatiently.

He sighed taking one of your hands that held his and brought it to his lips. He kissed your hand lingeringly and then placed it on his face and leaned towards it closing his eyes for a second and sighing. You could have sworn you would melt right there, it was obscenely sweet.

"I have an idea or two, but I want to hear you say it first." He said staring at you with a cocky smile in his face.

You pulled your hand away and hugged your knees "I just said so."

"Say it again. If I'm going to pick this fight with all the Avengers, I want to make sure I heard what you said correctly."

You bit your bottom lip and sighed heavily turning around and dragging yourself impossibly close to him. Then you held both of his hands and looked into his eyes "I'm in love with you Doctor Strange. I always have been." You rolled your eyes "Is it good now? Was it dramatic enough?"

He gave a small giggle "Dramatic? Yes. But not quite enough yet." He brought his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you close until your lips were brushing against each other.

"I've wanted to do this for so long, sweetheart." He whispered and then he kissed you. Just a touch of lips. Soft and sweet. He pulled away analyzing your reaction. "Now is enough." he whispered.

But you weren't sure if that was enough. Not when you've waited so long for this. "No. Do it again, but like you mean it this time."

He gave you a cocky smile and then went back to kiss you and as soon as you parted your lips for him, his tongue entered your mouth dominating yours, deepening the kiss that had the sinful taste of whiskey. You moaned softly surrendering to the kiss and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hand went down to your back pulling you closer to him, your breasts brushing his chest and you felt like your whole body was on fire. Everything seemed like a dream, one of your many fantasies of before going to sleep.

...

It was certain that Stephen had completely lost his judgment. Little did he realize that you were literally in the living room of the Avengers Tower and that anyone could walk in there and catch you kissing. At that moment anything other than you didn't seem to matter to him.

He'd waited for this for so long, convinced it would never happen, yet here you were and Stephen could feel his body responding to you and manifesting itself in a prominent erection that the suit pants he was wearing could do little to disguise.

You were the one who broke the kiss first to breathe, but Stephen wasn't ready to take his lips off you. He ran them down your chin and down your neck. You smelled so good. Whatever perfume you were wearing, it was Stephen's favorite scent now. He felt your hand gripping his hair, the other going down his chest and if he hadn't drunk a little too much maybe he would have noticed how quickly your first kiss was becoming too heated, but in the drunken state he was in, all he could think of was that he wanted you.

He wanted to know the way you tasted, the noises you would make when he finally took you. How you would moan his name while he was going down on you.

He bit lightly on your earlobe and watched as your skin prickled at the touch of his goatee.

"Stephen..."

God, the sound of his name coming out of your mouth was extremely arousing. He was so hard. It suddenly seemed like a good idea for him to show you what you were doing to him. He grabbed your hand from his chest and brought it down to his hip as he took your lips again in a hungry kiss. But as soon as he had you touching his bulge, you flinched and pushed him away slightly, breaking the kiss and clearing your throat looking extremely uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry..." You got up going to the small bar in the far corner of the room. Stephen watched you prepare a glass of martini. He shook his head trying to get his thoughts straight. He knew your first kiss had turned out to be more heated than he'd expected, but he was confused by your reaction.

He got up and walked over to the bar "Did I do something you didn't like?" He asked holding your hand and making you look at him.

You shook your head negatively. "It's okay. It just seemed a little too much for one night. I'm sorry, I'm being silly." You took a long drink of your martini.

Stephen sighed "No need to apologize. I... I went a little too far. It's just that you have this effect on me and I've wanted this for so long."

You smiled, but your cheeks were bright red, as if somehow what he was saying was  completely absurd. Maybe if his brain hadn't been enveloped in a cloud of alcohol, or if all the blood in his head hadn't gone down to his cock, he would have understood.

Before you could respond, you were interrupted by the sound of the elevator and Thor and America came out. "The girl was worried because the doctor had disappeared" Thor informed smiling and although Stephen was scared by the possibility of him understanding what was happening, it was soon clear that the Asgardian had not noticed anything, America on the other hand stared at Stephen and then at you and gave him a wink.

"Well, I'll leave you to him then." Thor said turning around and America followed him.

"On second thought, I just needed to know he was okay, we can get back to the party now."

The two took the elevator back and Stephen chuckled. "How is it possible that a 14 year old girl can outsmart an Asgardian god?"

You allowed yourself a small giggle "Thor is a sweetheart, but intelligence is not his forte." You took your glass and went back to sit on the sofa and Stephen watched you for a moment, still unsure.

"Sit with me, Stephen. I'm sorry I spoiled the mood."

He approached and sat next to you.

"You didn't. I overdid it and scared you."

You smiled shyly "I wouldn't exactly say I was scared. Surprised would be more accurate. And you don't need to apologize."

He touched your face "You're so beautiful. I don't know how I could contain myself for so long when all I wanted was to have you in my arms."

You placed your hand over his. "What now? What do we do now?"

He sighed thinking for a second. "What do you want to do?"

"Right now? I just want to be here with you, but I know we've been here long enough for everyone to notice we have disappeared. Not to mention Thor will tell everyone who asks that he saw us here, so we should probably head downstairs. But that's not what I'm talking about."

He sighed "Maybe... maybe we should keep this just between us for a while until I figure out the best time to talk to Stark..."

You bit your bottom lip, but you didn't say anything. And he knew that didn't please you.

"What is it?"

"It's just..." You held his hand in yours playing with his fingers and Stephen couldn't help but notice how small your hands were compared to his. That thought made his cock throb inside his pants and he mentally scolded himself.

"I don't want to hide it. I want to hold your hand, I want to cuddle with you in the living room. I want what everyone else has."

He smirked, finding it all too sweet, but maintained his stance as he suggested, "I know. We might get there eventually, sweetheart, but I'm talking about self-preservation here. I need to think of a way to convince Stark that this isn't wrong, which I'm sure will be very difficult. Plus, you know it's not just Tony. All the Avengers adore you and I'm going to get in trouble with all of them."

You sighed "Not all of them." You said it softly and Stephen didn't know if you really wanted him to hear it. "Nat knows. Yelena too."

Stephen exhaled heavily "Who else?"

"Peter and MJ."

"What exactly do they know?"

You looked at him shyly "That I'm in love with you and that I think you like me too. They approve."

Stephen snorted incredulously "I find it hard to believe Romanoff would approve this, sweetheart."

"She does. She told me. She just asked me to proceed with caution, but she said she would support me. Yelena is super cool about that too and Peter and MJ are on our side."

Stephen smiled sighing "America knows it all. She insisted I tell you how I felt. As you can imagine, she approves it, but I'm afraid the approval of three teenagers isn't enough to convince your godfather."

You chuckled "Peter and MJ are not teenagers anymore, and Nat and Yelena will be on our side too."

He smirked taking one of your hands and kissing it gently and then pulling you to his lips, but this time he tried to contain himself. He kissed you deeply, passionately, but made a Herculean effort to keep his hands to himself. However,  your fingers entwined in his hair and with that you managed to pull a moan from the bottom of his throat.

"Now, that's not very smart."

Stephen pulled away from you instinctively when he heard Romanoff's voice. When he turned towards the direction the voice was coming from he saw her standing next to the elevator. Yelena beside her helping her walk.

"You realize that anyone can show up at any moment, right?" Yelena asked.

"Especially Tony" Natasha completed.

You started to giggle and Stephen stared at you in disbelief. "She's right, Y/n"

"Yeah, I usually am. I suggest you two head down to the party before anyone notices you're gone."

That said, the two entered the elevator and Natasha shoot him an angry look.

"Are you sure she's on our side?" Stephen asked chuckling nervously.

You grabbed him by the tie "Yes she is. Now give me one more kiss before we go, magic man."

And he obeyed. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss you. Well, maybe there were a thing or two.

...

The night became considerably more tolerable now that you and Stephen had sorted things out. Well, not everything, but at least you could tell there was something between you and not just that flirting you could never be sure if it was real or something in your head. It was safe to say that you spent the rest of the evening wrapped in a kind of cloud of enthusiasm and there were, however ridiculous that definition was, butterflies in your stomach every time you and Stephen exchanged glances, some not so discreetly.

When most of the people had gone and only your friends were left, Tony did the favor of turning on the damn karaoke machine making everyone laugh every time someone was challenged to sing a song. However you couldn't complain, you were enjoying the show.

"Hey, Doctor, your turn" Wilson shouted after finishing a painful version of Streets of Philadelphia. You glared at Stephen who shook his head vehemently "No, thanks."

Sam looked around "Who's coming now? Come on guys, I just humiliated myself here, I'll feel better if you guys do the same."

"I've already humiliated myself enough" Pepper answered. She just finished singing It's all coming back to me now."

Stephen looked at you smiling. You were sitting at a table next to Nat and Yelena. To your surprise, he pointed at you "Why don't you make Y/n sing for us." He suggested and Wilson denied "No, come on. She won't help, she will only humiliate me even more."

You shook your head "I'm off today. Only you guys sing."

Tony climbed on the small stage taking the microphone from Sam's hand "The doctor is right. Come here, darling, show those scumbags how it's done."

Everyone started to press you and you threw an angry look at Stephen who was laughing. You got up going towards the stage "What shall I sing?"

Tony faced the small audience of Avengers "What do you guys think? Do we choose for her or let her choose?"

"Choose for her" Hill said.

"Let her choose" Stephen said staring at you "I'm curious to know what she will choose."

"You choose it, baby. Friday can find any song you want."

You stared at him blankly for a moment "Did you hack the karaoke machine?"

"What's the fun in only having 50 songs to choose from?" He asked defending himself and handing the microphone in your hand. He came down on stage and sat next to Pepper.

You thought for a second "Friday, play Cherry by Lana Del Rey."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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[bizaar]

Cruel Summer - Part 14

First - Previous - Next

pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 8k

warnings: fluff, allusions to sex/sexual content, swearing, slight angst (Edward J. Munson continues to be the most dramatic person on the planet) mentions of Barb's death/violence

a.n.: this was a much longer chapter that I had to split up for the sake of my sanity - taglist continues to be broken, sorry chat! if you would like to stay updated you should probably just follow me at this point because we're seriously almost done here

It takes you much longer to make it back to the trailer than it had to leave it behind, simply because Eddie can’t stop himself from pulling you close every couple of steps to kiss you again. Long, sloven presses of lips and swiping tongues begging for passage between your mouths. It’s all teeth and ragged breath and soft touches and the honest-to-God biblical revival of unchecked teenage hormones. 

You have to get back, this he knows very well, but now that he’s got you back, he just can’t stop loving on you. Kissing you has always been too easy - as natural as breathing, and you’re such a receptive lover – always have been, from the very start. 

And it’s not like you’re doing much to stop him, giggling and pushing against his chest without any real intention of separating yourself from him. Breathless insistences of “we really need to get back” that don’t mean anything at all when you’re fisting your hands in his jacket and pulling him right back to you for another round.

Not that Eddie’s complaining. He’s too busy fighting the overwhelming urge to bend you over right here in the underbrush.

The only thing really stopping him from popping the button of your jeans and wrestling you out of them is the nagging threat of his inner voice reminding him what a patently bad idea that is, because “that’s how you get killed in a horror movie”. 

It’s the only reliable basis of logic anymore. As far as Eddie is concerned, over the course of a very short week, his life has inexplicably devolved into the plot of a bad horror movie, which, in this scenario, regrettably makes you the horny couple who gets slaughtered whilst bunnyfucking out in the woods. 

As appealing as that sounds, he’s not about to let that happen.

Because you hate a cliche and you have to get back, for reasons that are extremely hard to rationalize when you’re pressed up against him and making all those pretty little sounds.

Eddie casually catches your southbound hands before they can find their way to his belt buckle and expertly replaces them on his shoulders, tut-tutting the way you whine out your displeasure with the move.   

Bad girl, he thinks, Needy girl. 

It’s the honeymoon phase and then some, a speedrun of that long expanse of ooey—gooey fairytale bliss that sees the both of you unable to keep your hands off of each other. Only this time around it’s not the halls and alcoves of Hawkins High witnessing your very public displays of affection, but the trees and the whirling cosmos and everything beyond that Carl Sagan ever promised – it’s super fucking romantic. 

You spent the duration of the not-so-long walk back making your own, much more tangible promises.

“I love you,” You tell him for what must be the hundredth time, eager to make up for lost time.  

“I know,” Eddie assures you, cradling your face and ducking down for the next in a long line of all the kisses he owes you for every time you say it. “But we gotta go.” he says against your lips, “Harrington’s gonna be pissed.” 

You whine pathetically. It’s a muffled sound that Eddie feels more than he hears. 

Normally that would have been enough to sway him considering you’re usually the one with the functioning brain, and he’s the raging pit of electric hormones,

Still, hearing you all needy like that tends to cause the rational part of Eddie’s brain to shut off. Many occasions of you pawing at him just like that have ended with a thick and wanton utterance of “aw hell” that sees Eddie throwing caution —and very often, your panties— to the wind.

But this is neither the time nor the place (though more the former than the latter, because it would not be the first time you’d gotten your rocks off out in the woods – horny teens don’t tend to make smart decisions about location when the mood strikes them that hard). 

Still, one of you has got to retain some of your faculties, because you really do need to get back, despite the way his lizard brain doth protest. 

Get back? Where? Harrington who? What’s he so goddamn pissed about and who even cares?   

“More,” You plead, and you always get what you want with him.

“Okay,” Eddie says, lips clicking with a lewd, wet smack when he parts with you, “One more for the road.”

He didn’t need to even give you that kind of permission, because you’re already chasing him again the second he parts from you. 

“Okay,” You hum, snaking your arms up around his neck and pressing yourself bodily against him, backing him into the tree he hadn’t realized was behind him until the bark is digging painfully into his spine.

He doesn’t care, not when you’re rubbing up against him like that. 

You’re both so unbearably gross and horror movie logic be damned, Eddie just can’t help himself. 

“Maybe just one more.” He hums, hand snaking unwisely up the back of your shirt to twist at the clasp of your bra. 

“Okay,” You sigh into his mouth.

When you finally make it back to the park, stealing across the grounds hand in hand, all smiles and giggles and clothes pulled out of shape like kids stumbling home well past curfew, Steve is indeed raging.

He’s there to whip the door open and bathe you in the accusing orange glow of incandescent light that has you balking as you come clambering up the steps. His looming, perfectly coiffed figure is almost comedic, backlit in the doorway with his hands on his hips, literally tapping his foot, and he’s quick to lay into you like he thought he was your goddamn father or something – not Eddie’s father, of course, which would have been an arguably terrifying turn of events, and not even much like your father, who Eddie has still never met, and at this point is not entirely sure he ever will. 

He’s not even sure your parents really know he exists outside of general rumor – they certainly don’t know what he does with their daughter out in the woods, considering they barely acknowledge the fact that you exist. 

That’s fine by him, it just means he gets you all to himself. 

Steve grabs you by the elbow and yanks you over the threshold and back into the warm, cozy embrace of home – what good is a house when you’re all the home Eddie needs – already halfway through a lecture about how you’ve been gone “way longer than ten minutes” and demanding to know “what the hell took you so goddamn long” because, in case you haven’t noticed, the fate of the world is oh so casually resting on your collective shoulders. 

Not that any of that currently matters, Eddie isn’t listening. He’s completely blissed out, far too busy watching with wrapt attention as you pull your pretty pink, kiss-bitten lips in past your teeth in a miserable attempt at trying not to smile while Steve goes blue in the face.

It’s so unbearably You, though he thinks perhaps only as a result of him rubbing off on you in the worst way – or in the best way, who can say? – giggling in the middle of a dressing down, really playing into the hand you’ve been dealt. 

Christ, you’re adorable … and you love him. 

You love him you love him you love him – and he loves you, he should tell you - no, he needs to tell you…

It takes every bit of Eddie’s limited capacity for self-control not to seize you and drag you right back to him. He’s not finished loving on you just yet – he quietly hopes that there will never come a time when he’s ever finished. 

He’s never been the type to give a second thought to laying a big sloppy kiss on you in front of whoever the fuck happens to be watching, but he knows how public displays of affection make you uncomfortable and he’s not so love-drunk that he can’t respect your boundaries. 

He cannot, however, stop smiling. He knows he’s got to look a goddamn fool, grinning ear to ear like the fate of the world and all their lives don’t hang in the balance — his face is starting to hurt. 

He hasn’t realized how he’s missed that until now, the cramping of his facial muscles against something he’s powerless to resist. 

There’s an entire conversation going on in front of him without his knowledge – he couldn’t repeat a word anyone has said in the past five minutes if someone put a gun to his head, but he could talk endlessly about all the soft little noises you’d been making only a short while back. 

He could go on about those for days, write tomes of essays and sonnets waxing poetic about them, but the loud shouting voice of Dustin returning to the room from whatever odd corner of the trailer he’d been hiding in cuts the lecture thankfully short. 

“There you are!” He squawks, stomping out from the hall. 

He’s standing there looking suddenly very small dressed in an overlarge grey sweatshirt and the deconstructed pieces of the Gilley suit someone had thought to grab from the War Zone. It is his carefully selected uniform for bat-tle, as he’d put it back in the field – you’d booed and hissed at the audacity of such a terrible pun, much to Henderson’s patent chagrin.   

“Do you have any idea how long you two were gone? We were worried sick!” He squawks.  

“Now, where have I heard that before?” You hum, casting a sly, sidelong glance in Eddie’s direction before squeezing past Dustin to disappear down the hall toward the bathroom so you can wash the woods off of you. 

“You know your shirt’s on inside out,” Dustin calls moodily after you. “And backwards,” 

You ignore him. 

Eddie watches you go and gets a little lost in the familiar swaying of your gait. Suddenly he’s back at school, watching you skip away down the hall toward your next class, the tantalizing promise of later hanging in the air. You glance back at him and smile sweetly, and he’s instantly shot full of holes. 

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

“Eddie!” Dustin grouses, drawing him back to the close quarters and warm, incandescent glow of his living room — and he realizes, once again, he’s missed every word of the boy’s outraged spiel, “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sure am.” Eddie lies.

Dustin narrows his eyes.  

“Then what did I just say?”

He shrugs and shoves past him as he spies the carefully folded pile of items from the jaunt to the army surplus store, though more specifically one decidedly metal bandolier sitting in a burnished brass pile on the dining table. 

It sets Eddie’s magpie brain to fluttering and he’s reaching for it before he’s even realized he’s moved.  

“No idea,” Eddie says good-naturedly, clapping a hand fondly down on the top of Dustin’s head as he passes him by.

He can feel the boy’s eyes on him, turning to follow as he saunters across the room.  

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dustin demands.

“Not a thing, Henderson,” He assures him, electing to snatch the belt up rather than confess the undying overwhelming vice of puppy love he’s gripped in.

He turns the thing over in his hands, eyeing it with great interest - it’s just about the coolest damn thing he’s ever seen.

"You sure about that?"

"Hundred percent," Eddie says, "Everything's just fine."

After that, it’s twenty-five minutes or so of finishing touches before Eddie slinks off to his bedroom.

Everyone has armed themselves in some kind of battle garb, armor picked up from the War Zone for the impending task, but nobody had thought to grab anything for you. It hadn’t even crossed their mind because back then you didn’t need any sort of protection, not while the most you’d been expected to do was stand watch in the living room for any curious onlookers come to peek in on the murder scene at the Munson residence. 

Now, with such a daunting task ahead of you, Eddie knows you’re going to need all the help you can get. So he upends his dresser drawers, looking for something — anything that might put some kind of a barrier between you and the flurry of teeth and claws that await you.

Steve’s already returned the battle vest, decidedly worse for wear but not bad enough to be decommissioned, and Eddie fully intends to swathe you in it. It’s not much, but it’s better than the same torn jeans and old t-shirt you’ve been wearing for the last three days. It’s something, at least, 

His room is dark compared to the rest of the trailer. It hadn’t seemed like a smart thing to go flipping on any more lights, on the off chance that someone noticed and decided to come snooping. He doesn’t mind much, considering his aversion to flipping on the overhead light in the first place – Eddie much prefers the ambiance of the table lamp, and he is well-practiced in navigating the dimly lit space  

The front room is abuzz with noise and ambivalent movement. Voices filter in and out and saturate the room in the warm glow of company, the aural equivalent of the incandescent bulbs burning overhead. 

It reminds Eddie of something he has only felt very few times in his life: what it feels like to belong, to be a part of something, even if that something is nothing more than camaraderie forged in the face of impending doom. Somehow he can’t find it in him to be worried about it, not while he’s among friends. 

The mere thought of the word brings a bitter scoff rising up from the deepest part of his chest, and he has to work very hard to swallow it back down again. 

It’s what gets him more than anything, more than the danger of the Upsidedown or the armed hicks crawling the streets, hungry for his blood – it’s that after everything he’s been through over the past few days, suddenly he’s back home and (relatively) safe, because of his friends.

Not Gareth or Jeff or Adam or even Wayne, but astoundingly thanks to Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, and Dustin (less baffling but still bizarre) —his strange collection of new friends, who put their lives and reputations on the line to find him and bring him back from the precipice, despite barely knowing him.

It’s more than a little jarring, and Eddie isn’t quite sure how he feels about it. 

Whatever the feeling is, it’s largely a positive thing. He’s glad they’re all here – and it goes without saying that he’s glad you’re here. 

He’d say it anyway. 

He’s glad you’re here when you have every reason not to be, but you’d promised that you loved him even when you hated him, which actually might have hurt his feelings if he wasn’t so goddamn relieved to hear it. 

Without you, he’s not sure he would have such a strange new group of friends rallying around him, embracing him. 

And maybe that’s not a fair assumption. Maybe Dustin had more of a hand in facilitating his rescue than he’s accounting for— credit where credit is due and all that — but Eddie will be the first to admit that he’s totally and completely biased. You’re far and beyond his favorite person here, and he’s not shy about admitting that. 

The thing he really hates to admit, however, is that he’s glad you’re coming with them to the other side – which seems stupid. 

He was being smarter when he was angry that you were crazy enough to go volunteering yourself to play the bait, but hadn’t he spent the duration of the last jaunt to the Upsidedown bombarding you with psychic postcards? Wish you were here doesn’t even begin to cut it. 

He almost forgets to care about how aggressively he’d rejected the idea of you putting your life on the line only a few hours ago because when it came down to it, that’s what it took to win back your love.

Not that he ever really lost it in the first place (and not that he actually knew that) but Boy Howdy hadn’t you done your utmost to tow that line and make him work for it?  

If only Eddie had known it would be that easy – it wasn’t easy, it was the worst suffering he’s ever experienced – he wouldn’t have fought so hard to keep you from running headlong into peril.

More than that, if he had any idea of what the two of you were going to get up to on your walk back through the woods, he would have thrown you to the wolves and jumped right in after you. 

Maybe not, but the sentiment feels dramatic and appropriate for the status quo as it currently stands.

Danger, it seems, has become his new middle name. Or maybe it’s yours, considering you’re the one who keeps getting him into these situations … except that’s only true because Eddie initially dragged you into all this, so maybe the name belongs to the both of you. 

Maybe you married into the name and now you’re Mr. and Mrs. Danger. 

It’s a stupid thought, and it makes him laugh.  

Snickering to himself in the dark, Eddie upends the last of his drawers and makes a mental note to tell you that joke after all this —  if either of you survives this, that is. 

It’s a dismal thought that makes quick work of chasing away any sense of the levity he’d felt moments before. 

Once he’s satisfied with the excavation of everything he owns, Eddie lays out a series of choices across the stark bed: the first-generation Hellfire shirt, the black one with the short sleeves and white collar, a grey Hawkin’s Phys. Ed shirt with “Munson” scrawled across the nameplate in obnoxiously large print (his old gym clothes), and a super faded Misfits tee he’s had for years and years. 

None of them are particularly significant, only that they are some of the only clean articles of clothing he could find, and he wants you to have options. 

He wouldn’t presume to make the decision for you, because somehow this feels important, as silly as that seems. You deserve to choose what kind of armor you’re going to wear to herald the doom they bring to Vecna.

Eddie finds you in the kitchen with Steve, running through a series of stretches, learning tips and tricks on how to breathe so as best to oxygenate your muscles, and having the very basics of general athleticism explained to you. 

It’s a lifetime of athletics boiled down to a five-minute lecture – Eddie only catches the tail end of it, but it’s riveting stuff.

“The worst thing you can do when you’re running hard like that for distance is start to hyperventilate – you know, gasping for air,”  Steve tells you, and Eddie half expects you to roll your eyes and make some snappy remark about being molly-coddled like that, but oddly enough all you do is nod.

For once, you’ve got nothing snide to say – remarkably, Steve has your undivided attention, and even he seems a little unsure of what to do with it as he continues.  

“If you start in with that, you won’t be able to catch your breath and you’re gonna pass out.” He says matter-of-factly, “If you pass out, you’re dead, you got that? That’s worse than a worst-case scenario, that’s a game over.”

“Yikes,” Eddie can’t help himself from saying, summarily drawing your attention. 

In the span of a microsecond, you go from serious as a heart attack and nodding like your life depends on it – which it very likely does – to dopey grinning, staring wistfully up at him with honest-to-god heart eyes. 

Eddie wonders if you and Steve can hear his heart beating against his ribcage. 

Just like that, the lesson is over, because now that Eddie is here, Steve is never going to get your attention back. 

“Sorry to butt in,” He says tentatively, curling his hands around your shoulders, “D’you mind if I borrow Barry Allen here for a second?”

Steve levels him with a blank if not highly irritable look as the reference sails clear over his head. 

Harrington, Steve: Fucking jerk Not so bad, I guess. Worshipped by Henderson. Doesn’t know who Ozzy Osbourne is. Total fucking cheeseball. Has apparently never heard of The Flash. 

You, thankfully, are not so hopelessly ignorant.

“Nerd.” You scoff, shoving Eddie playfully – then you notice the thousand-yard stare gracing Steve’s features, and you’re quick to explain, “Barry Allen is–”

“I don’t care.” He says – it doesn’t feel mean so much as deeply uninterested, “Just try to remember what I told you.”

“Sure. Don’t pass out.” You say with a lopsided shrug.  

“Exactly. And no more sneaking off.” Eddie can’t help but get the sense that the second part is more for him than you, especially with the knowing look Steve gives him. 

He just can’t help but tease him a little.  

“No need,” Eddie says, curling his arms around you and jerking his head back down the hall. “Bedroom’s right back there, Big Boy — care to join us?”

“Oh, gross—”

“For the love of…”  

Steve rolls his eyes and breathes the beginnings of a long-suffering sigh – Eddie is quick to let him off the hook. 

“I’m kidding.” He assures the both of you. 

You shove your way out of his arms and Steve shakes his head, in a clear attempt at trying to mask how visibly relieved he is to hear it.

“Yeah well, who can ever tell with you two,” he says, reaching out to clap Eddie on the shoulder before turning his attention to all the other hundreds of little preparations that still need to be made.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You call indignantly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replies, “Your shirt’s on backwards, by the way.” 

After that, it takes no effort at all for Eddie to coax you down the hall. Back in the relative dark of his bedroom, you choose the Hawkins Phys. Ed shirt graffitied with his name, and he can’t help but puff up a little with the warm glow of satisfaction for the choice as he watches you shrug out of your clothes.

Out of one shirt and into another, both of them his – the forest green gym shorts are yours, though, and it’s only pure happenstance that they’d gone unnoticed when he packed you away last fall. Stuffed into the back of the drawer they remained, since who knows when – from one of the hundreds of times you’ve slept over, he’s sure. 

It feels a little bit like fate, if he believed in such a thing. Like they’d sat waiting for you, knowing you’d need them here and now, the matching pair to Eddie’s old gym shirt.

Once the shorts are tied tight and the shirt is over your head, you pull it taught by the hem to regard the chicken scratch scrawling of Munson with what he hopes is satisfaction. 

Good, he thinks. Let the name do some good for once, let it shield you from anything that means you harm. Everything means you harm down there, even the air you breathe, but he can’t think about that right now, lest he succumb to his wits and try once more in vain to talk you out of this.

At least this way he can wrap himself around you, make a shield of his things. 

“How’s that feel?” Eddie asks tentatively, watching you turn to regard yourself in what bit of the mirror you can see around Sweetheart.

You level him with a dour look.

“Like gym class.” You answer, flapping your arms at your sides matter-of-factly, “Why do you still have these?”

Eddie shrugs, pushing up from where he’s been sitting on the edge of the box spring with one leg tucked neatly beneath him. 

“‘Cause I’m full of school spirit, remember?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Right. How could I forget? You’ve got pep in your step.”

“Go Tigers.” 

Eddie holds his battle vest dutifully in place so you can fit your arms through the holes, then pulls it snugly around you like a worn, patchy, denim hug – you’re swimming in it, and normally it would be incredibly endearing, but his heart is suddenly thumping solidly in his chest, and his insides are churning.

The fear is creeping in again.

“Anyway, have a little respect, will you?” he says, poking at the scrawling of his name across your belly. “This is lucky.”

Your brows marry over your eyes, and it’s almost enough to distract from the gnawing dread settling into his bones.

“How d’you figure?”

“Munsons are resilient.” He explains, “We’re hard to kill,” 

Like some kind of unwanted household pest, skittering around Hawkins and coming back time and time again no matter what this town does to try and eradicate them. 

Like cockroaches, he thinks miserably, but of course, he won’t tell you that. 

“Good for you, I guess,” You say, “But not all of us have the good fortune of being a Munson.”

It’s ever so slightly shocking, hearing you say that. He’s never heard anyone refer to his family name as being one of good fortune, and suddenly he doesn’t know what to do with that endearment.

Nobody wants to be a Munson. He imagines the way his mother must have panicked when she came to realize the terrible mistake she’d made in hitching her wagon to his father, but by then it was too late because he’d already taken root in her – Eddie had always been the ball and chain that stopped his mother from escaping the name, what it did to her…  

No, nobody wants to be a Munson… but maybe it doesn’t have to be like it’s always been. 

Eddie tilts his head left to press his shoulder to his ear as he considers the notion – then raises his hand to make a slow, gentle chopping motion down against your shoulder – one, then the other – summarily knighting you. 

“I dub thee: Honorary Munson.” He teases. 

You bite your tongue against the giggling suddenly bubbling up inside you and roll your eyes. 

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” You say. 

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the expert?”

“It’s just not very official, is all.”  

He stares at you a moment, letting the words sink in and feeling his heart beat heavily against his ribcage. 

Suddenly he can’t stop thinking about where you’d been this time last year, propped up against one another on the sofa in the next room.  

Eddie had been sick as a dog that whole week, certain he was always just moments from death’s eternal embrace, and yet laying there with his head in your lap, watching some forgettable movie of the week, he was happy. Happier than he would have been stuffed into the van for sixteen hours, at least. 

That’s all he ever wanted, a life of quiet intimacy, where everybody was content to mind their own damn business, leave you to your devices. 

Let all his grand plans and schemes fall through, so long as it means he gets to spend the rest of his life doing nothing with you.

Filthy rich or dirt poor, he doesn’t care so long as it's with you. 

That’s all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, and he’s been certain of that since way too early on in your relationship, and it was a problem. 

You weren’t even friends yet the first time he lost himself in a flight of fancy over how the rest of your lives would play out – the milestones you’d hit together. 

Eddie shrugs against the way his heart is in his throat as he makes quick work of removing the ring with the dark stone from his finger. He reaches for your hand and hopes you can’t see the way he’s trembling as he slides it easily back into place over your middle finger – it’s nothing really, you’d already asked him for that ring a year into your relationship and worn it proudly up until last summer. 

All he’s doing is righting a wrong, putting something back where it belongs, but somehow, this time it feels more important than that. This time it feels like a promise. 

“There,” He says gently, feeling unbearably vulnerable as he watches you closely for your reaction, “How’s that for official?” 

You’re beaming as you bring your hand up to look at the ring, admiring the scuffed, dingy stone like it were some kind of glittering diamond he’d spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on rather than the forgotten heirloom he'd found stashed in a dusty corner of his grandmother’s house a hundred years ago. 

“Cool.” You hum.

“So cool.”  

He reaches up to pull the vest tighter around you again before he’s realized he’s even moved, and then suddenly Eddie’s got his arms around you, hugging you tight against his body — his natural state of being, it seems. 

You respond in turn by burying your face into the crook of his neck and sighing against him as he presses his cheek to your temple. 

For as long a moment as he dares, he just holds you like that while the fear creeps up again. 

Don’t go don’t go please don’t go.

“Can I ask you something?” 

Your response buzzes against his flesh and sends goosebumps crawling across his body.

“Always,” 

Eddie’s hand comes down to trace the length of your arm, a gentle up and down, grazing the pads of his fingers along the soft and tender flesh he knows so well. 

His insides go tight and squirmy, and he feels a potent cocktail of nerves and nostalgic shyness bleed into his bloodstream.

He never actually asked you out the first time around. You sort of just mutually fell into the routine of scrambling to spend every spare second you had with each other, until one day he looked up and your lives were woven together.

It feels stupid to suddenly be shy about it, but he can’t let you cross that gate without putting it out there, even if you say no, even if you laugh in his face.

Eddie clears his throat to try and steady his voice. 

“When all this is over — if we make it out, I mean — can I take you to the movies or something?”

You don’t answer, not right away, but he feels you still against him in a way that makes his nerves scream. After an agonizing moment, your hands snake up to rest on his shoulders and you push against him, though not with enough force to dislodge you from Eddie’s grasp more than a few inches.

He grips you by your elbows and holds you there, reluctant to let you go until it is absolutely necessary as you lean back and stick him to the spot with a wry look — eyes narrowed, lips curled.

He knows you’re about to tease him, considering everything you’ve been through, but those nerves are quickly turning sour in his stomach and Eddie doesn’t think he can stand to hear you say something sarcastic right now, not when he’s teetering so close to the edge. 

Why does it suddenly feel like if he lets you go he’ll lose you all over again? His eyes feel puffy with the notion, and you thankfully pick up on it, like you always do, reaching up to stroke the highest point of his cheek with the backs of your knuckles.

The scratchy fabric of your bandage tickles him and he swallows the ragged breath threatening to burst forth from his lungs. 

Eddie clears his throat again to middling results before he continues.

“I bet that stupid Gremlins ripoff is still playing in the city…” He says thickly, then rolls his eyes and offers a lopsided shrug he hopes appears as casual as he means it to be, “I mean … unless you already saw it or whatever.” 

“Critters.” You posit. 

“Right.”

You shake your head. 

“Haven’t seen it.” 

“Right.” He says again, because it’s all he can do to stop himself from falling to his knees and begging you not to do this. 

He’d do just about anything to make you stay here where it’s safe, even if that means marching himself into town and right into the hands of the Hawkins Police. 

But that’s not gonna stop Vecna, and if they don’t stop him then there’s no point to any of this. 

They need you there on the other side, and it's tearing him to little melancholy pieces.  

Your lips quirk up into a wry if not entirely sympathetic smile.

“Are you asking me out, Munson?” You ask, gently teasing him in a dutiful attempt to try and leaven the mood.

Eddie forces out a thick, wet bark of laughter and tilts his head forward to rest against yours. 

“Nah, no way. ‘Course not.” he sniffs, “What, d’you think I like you or something?”

You hum thoughtfully and twist your head to the side so that his forehead is pressed against your temple and take a long hard look at the ring sitting snugly on your middle finger. It’s the wrong one, but the intention is still there.

Same as before, same as he’d felt way too early on in your relationship, Eddie would marry you tomorrow if you’d have him – make a real Munson out of you and do it better than any of the previous generations before him ever managed to. Break the cycle and finally do things right.  

Neither of you may be around to indulge in that whimsy tomorrow.

You wrinkle your nose. 

“Yeah, you know, I kind of got that impression,”

“Well, that’s stupid.” Eddie rasps, “And gross.”

“So gross.” You hum, pushing up on your toes to slant your lips against his.

It's only a chaste peck, made a little less so by a cheeky swipe of your tongue against his bottom lip – it’s all you have time for before there is a rapping of someone’s knuckles against the door frame, cutting the moment short.   

You drop back down and spin around to face whoever it is come to intrude on your moment – only Nancy, thankfully, lingering in the doorway. You stand in front of Eddie with your back against him, like you mean to shield him from prying eyes until he can collect himself again. 

If she notices the way he quickly brushes the wetness from his eyes, she doesn’t mention it, because Nancy Wheeler is nothing if not entirely classy. 

“It’s time, you guys.” She says softly, and Eddie feels his guts seize in terror. 

As if you anticipated the feeling, you reach back and squeeze his hand, nodding curtly. 

“We’ll be right out,” you promise. 

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

Sliding through the gate is probably the worst thing you have ever experienced in your entire life, made all the worse by the way you’d had to ask Eddie for a boost because you’ve always been hopeless at the rope climb and you’re not about to start down the journey of self-improvement now.  

“Cheerleader-style,” you’d explained, showing him what position to get into when he asked how best to do that.

He’d rolled his eyes and taken your foot in his hands.

“That’s not Cheerleader-style,” He snarked, which made Steve choke on a surprised bark of laughter. 

And that’s how you knew the world was well and truly coming to an end. Because Eddie made a stupid sex joke and it was enough to make Steve Harrington laugh. 

You’re so, incredibly fucked.

The reverse suction of gravity pulling you down through at the highest point of the gate and turning your world topsy turvy is the second worst thing you’ve ever experienced, and it sees you landing hard on your ass on the other side.

Your fall was mercifully broken by the bizarro version of Eddie’s mattress — somehow more disgusting than its real-world doppelgänger — which Steve had thankfully thought to pull out from the other room.

You’d only just managed to slide off of the thing before Eddie came crashing down after you, landing gracelessly on his back with a hard thump mere inches from where you’d been only moments before.

Everything moves much too quickly after that.

You follow A Team out into the murky underdark waiting just outside the tin door and have to plant roots in the ground to stop yourself from turning right back around and going for the safety of the gate.

Suddenly, faced with the dark and the debris and the perpetual bloody thunderstorm, sitting watch and babysitting the hole in the ceiling doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. But it’s far too late to start thinking about changing your mind, especially when B Team comes shuffling down the front steps to see you off. 

You distract yourself by playing Mother Hen, turning around to fuss needlessly over your boys. 

Your boys, your precious boys…

You pull Dustin’s hood up and secure it in place with the headband he’d chosen to add to his armor, straighten the Gilley suit, and tweak his nose for good measure, garnering an indignant squawk from the boy before you move over to Eddie.

You’re less frantic with him, and you can feel his eyes on you as you pull the zipper of his army-grade vest tight up to the collar, the demon-faced logo of the Hellfire club winking out of existence as you do. You can’t help but smooth your hands across his chest, attempting in vain to press out the wrinkles there and banish your nerves alongside them. 

It’s not enough, you think, this isn’t gonna stop anything from hurting him.

You have to heave a sharp, steadying breath to quell the sick feeling suddenly stirring in your stomach, and you tell yourself it’s better than nothing. 

It’s certainly better than what you’ve got, which is to say nothing at all – at least he’s got layers to protect against scraping claws and gnashing teeth, he’s got a shield and one of those wicked-looking spears the Sinclairs had prepared back in the field while you’d wasted precious time goofing off. 

You wish you had a suit of armor, but you’ve got to move faster than you ever have, you can’t afford to be weighed down by any more protective layers than a pair of cotton shorts, Eddie’s vest – you’re thankful to have it, it’s the next best thing to carrying him with you (along with the faintest tinge of Steve, regrettably) but somehow you know it’s not going to be enough if something down here decides to try and make a meal out of you. 

You’re cold, at least you think you are, somehow simultaneously shivering under the heavy, dank chill of the Upsidedown and growing sticky with sweat in the cloying humidity. 

This place is a fucking nightmare — this place is where Barb died. 

Suddenly you can’t stop thinking about that night in ‘83, about the party she disappeared from. You don’t know much about it, only that it had been Tommy and Carol at Steve’s place — your old friends who had at the point only recently ejected you from their circle.

Barb was only there because they had a vacancy to fill in the form of Nancy, and she came along by default. Suddenly you can’t help but feel that if Eddie hadn’t waltzed in and turned your world upside down, you would have been at that party, and it probably would have been your face on all the missing person posters and milk cartons.

Barb would still be here, getting ready to take her SATs and live the rest of her life, and you would have been dragged screaming into the abyss, never to be seen again. 

You’re thankfully rescued from the spiral of trying to determine how your karma tallies up against the guilt you feel over it and pulled from the mire of your thoughts by the sound of your name tumbling gently from Eddie’s lips.

When you glance up at him, he’s giving you a deeply concerned look, and you wonder how much of the journey through your thoughts had been reflected across your face. 

You feel the corners of your mouth twitch in your best attempt at offering him a reassuring smile, but you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Eddie says.

“No, yeah of course. It’s gonna be fine.” You mumble, painfully aware of how the tremble in your voice betrays that statement, so you try again, “It’s gonna be fun.” 

It’s not even convincing enough to come across as sarcastic — you’re terrified. 

Then, like he’s only just remembered something vitally important, Dustin perks up and begins patting himself down, frantically fumbling in his pockets as you watch without really seeing. He produces a clunky black Casio, the kind with a calculator built into the face, and immediately goes to work strapping it to your wrist.

“I already set it up to count you down.” He explains, “All you have to do is hit start and go, it’ll keep us in sync.”

You swallow hard as you stare at it — you remember the year he got the watch for his birthday, how excited he was about all its features.

You’d thought it was unbearably sweet that he was so thrilled about a cheap watch from Melvald’s General Store, but you desperately wish you were back there now, timing Dustin to see how fast he could run around the block (the answer was not very fast at all, and he’d been royally pissed when Mike beat his time by nearly half.) 

He nudges you to bring your attention back again, this time he’s holding a walkie-talkie out to you. 

You take it and sling it around your shoulders.

“It’s gonna be fine,” You say again, somehow less convincing than before. 

However, neither Eddie nor Dustin gets the opportunity to say otherwise because Steve is suddenly there, sending you leaping damn near out of your skin with the simple act of resting a tentative hand on your shoulder. 

“You ready?” He asks.

No, you want to tell him, but your throat is closing up and you don’t think you could have squeaked out an answer even if you tried. 

You swallow hard against the tightness there and nod.

“Okay,” He says solemnly, turning his attention to B Team - Team Distraction, “Keep your radios on – stay in contact, stick to the plan—”

“And don’t get killed.” Eddie pipes up, winking at you. 

As you turn on your heel and trail after the others across the park, you curl your hands into fists and silently hope you can manage to do all of those things at once. 

It takes every bit of willpower you possess not to turn around and look back – if you look back you’re going to lose what tiny bit of nerve you’d been able to muster – but you didn't look back the last time you’d walked away from Eddie, left him standing there at the foot of those stairs.

The radio crackles, at your hip, and through it comes Eddie’s voice, calling your name.

“–Copy.”

You snatch the walkie-talkie up so quickly that you nearly crack yourself in the mouth, twisting around and stumbling over your feet, almost crashing into Robin as you do. 

“What’s up, Eds?” You answer.

You can barely see him out in the dark, but he’s still there, watching you go. You can’t make out his features, but somehow you know he’s grinning that stupid grin.

“You’re supposed to say over – over.” He teases, voice lilting in that same old sing-song tone.

You roll your eyes.

“What do you want, Eddie … over.”

“Just to tell you your butt looks great in those shorts –”

You’re instantly blushing as Robin makes a harsh sound of undainty laughter at your side. 

“Eddie–!” you hiss.

“Over and out.”

It’s not a long walk to the Creel House, but it’s made that much shorter by the cloud of doom hanging over your head.  

You’d always done your utmost to avoid the place, what with its reputation for being haunted. It’s eerie enough in the daytime, but here and now, with the darkness crushing in on all sides, you can’t help the chill that creeps down your spine.

When you were thirteen, you’d very nearly had a falling out with Carol Perkins, who was still your best friend at the time, over your refusal to enter the house on a dare.

With high school looming, she was at the start of a sudden and violent transition that would inevitably see her become the mean girl she is today. As such, she was subsequently worried that you were making her look bad in front of her cool new friends, who wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, but were still busy making up their minds about her.

She called you a pussy, and you happily accepted the title, staying safely outside of the house while the older girls all filed in to play with the Ouija board one of them had brought along. 

Carol stayed with you, out of some lingering sense of misplaced loyalty, you imagine, and as a result lost some of the budding clout she so desperately craved from the others — from that day on to the eventual implosion of your so-called friendship three years later, she never let you forget it.

Knowing what you know now, pressed up against Nancy sitting crouched beneath the rotting jungle gym across the street, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief that you’d always had enough foresight to stay out of the house – Vecna’s home. 

Suddenly, you think you can see movement. Figures skulking around in the dark on the third floor, a ghoulish face peering out at you from the attic window. 

You tell yourself the house is empty, that Vecna isn’t up there, despite how patently untrue you know that to be. Part of you wants to take some sort of comfort in knowing that you won’t have to enter the house, but all you feel is the violent buzzing of your anxiety. 

You gasp out loud when the radio crackles, slapping your hands over your mouth and startling yourself as much as your companions. 

“B Team to A Team, do you copy?” Dustin’s voice comes rasping over the static. 

You watch as Steve brings the radio up to his mouth without ever taking his eyes off of the house, you wish you were half as calm as he looked. 

“Copy.” 

“We’re all set back here – go for Phase One?”

“Ready when you are.” 

You feel yourself break into a cold sweat. 

Phase one means you’re one deck. This is all happening very fast – too fast, if anyone were to ask you. Nobody is asking. 

Then, in the distance you hear the first crunch of chords, a rippling echo of a sound that knocks you on your ass, right back to nights and weekends at the Hideout and half a hundred other dingy dives across Roane County. 

Your breath catches in your throat.

If you close your eyes, you imagine you could picture yourself sitting parked behind a slapdash Corroded Coffin merch table set against a far wall, piled high with t-shirts, bumper stickers, and boxes upon boxes of cassettes. 

In your mind’s eye, Eddie leans into the microphone and introduces the band to middling enthusiasm. 

“This one goes out to all the ladies,” he says, like he always does before the first song because of how you’d once expressed vehement disdain for front men who would dare do something so cheesy. 

Your nerves are a swarm of bees in your bloodstream as you suck in a breath through chattering teeth and the sound continues, three descending notes that bleed into a quick, hard riff that shoots adrenaline like lightning down to the tips of your fingers.

It only takes you half a moment to realize you know this song, and the buzzing of your adrenaline surges, thought differently than before – blinding terror has suddenly bled away to be replaced by the kind of heart pounding excitment that comes from standing in the crowd at a rock concert. 

Oh my God, You think, He’s so fucking cool…

It breathes a spark of courage into you, and with a series of short, deep breaths, you fill your lungs and ready yourself to move. Without the necessary prompting you’d all agreed upon, you scramble out from beneath the jungle gym much to Steve’s hushed chagrin. 

You curl your hands into trembling fists as you pad across the grass out into the street, stopping just short of the curb and turning your gaze up at the looming Victorian. In the intermittent flashes of crimson lightning, you can see the bats crawling across its visage, like thousands of teeming maggots, squirming in the belly of a roadkill carcass. 

You suck in a breath and hold it, watching, waiting.

Eddie’s guitar has piqued their interest, just as you’d planned for, now you’ve got to make sure they follow through with that curiosity and clear a path for Nancy and the rest. 

Phase one is in effect – time to go to work.

[ageless-aislynn]

As mentioned in my last post, welcome to Aislynn's 1 Word For Each WIP November Extravaganza! (It was too long to fit all of that in the banner, so hence the number 4 coming in clutch, lol!)

Here's what I'm GOING TO write at least one word for in the month of November:

Halo the series

"15 Minutes" - (John/Female Reader) Chapter 12 is in progress and will get progressiver (word of the day) by at least 1 more word! *nodnods*

"Recreation" - (Kai/Male Reader) The final chapter will be slotting in between its sibling fic's *points up at "15M"* second to last and final chapter. I have notes on chapter 5 but no draft started... yet.

"Untitled Fluffy Vannak fic" - (Vannak/Female Reader) Just a one-shot that I wanted to do for the big guy, something sweet and fun because he got VERY LITTLE of either in season 2. 😭The draft is already in progress.

I also would like to write a Reader fic for Riz since the entire rest of Silver Team is getting something 👀but have nothing on tap just yet.🤞😣🤞 One day, I hope, but I'm not counting this as part of my WIPs to be finished in November... unless I should get a heck of a lot of work done on everything else. 😉

Halo: Reach

"Choices: A Choose Your Own Spartan Adventure" - (Noble Team/Female Reader) One of the most personally ambitious things I've attempted in a while, the first chapter that sets up the adventure is almost done. Next to go are each of the chapters where you choose which Noble Team member you'll continue the adventure with. I have the plot for all of them but only Emile's has something written. We'll also be getting a separate chapters for female and male Noble Six, since we're all about, you know, choosing who you want to adventure with and Six can be either in the game. 😎👍

The Flash

"The Price" (NSFW) - (Caitlin Frost/Hunter Zolomon) I've known what's going to happen in chapter 2 for a quite a while now. Just got to write it... one word at a time, right?

"Guardian Angel" - (Time Wraith!Caitlin Snow/Eobard Thawne) About 1/3 of chapter 3 has been done for, umm, years now. Just need to push it on through a little bit more! I'm not sure how many chapters in all it will be, at least this one and a 4th but that may be enough to finish it. We'll see!

"Split" - (Caitlin Snow/Eobard Thawne) The third and final fic in the Ghost of Eobard Thawne series turned out, to my surprise, to have 3 very ragged first drafts and part of a 4th chapter just hanging out in my Word docs after all of these years. I still have my *surprised Pikachu face* on for this one, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️😂

"Try" (NSFW) - (TomCav!Eobard Thawne/Caitlin Snow/Mattobard!Eobard Thawne) Oh yeah, I went there. After all of the versions of them that I've written, the only really surprising thing is that I didn't do this a lot sooner, lol! This one has 3 chapters of almost 8k words done that nobody has ever read. It's weirdly one of the few times I did world-building, too. It's projected to be pretty big, 20-25 chapters, so maybe 50k words? 😱 It's a really big undertaking for something that's honestly just for me but... I'd really like to be able to read the entire thing one day, lol! And there's only one way to do that: I've got to write it, one word at a time. 🤷‍♀️😉

I may have totally forgotten something but this was all that showed up in my WIPs folder. Of course, that folder was imperfectly copied from my previous computer and I had to go looking for several of these, so who knows. If I missed something, feel free to let me know.

So wish me luck, frens! This is a challenge I KNOW I can do and I'm so excited about it! 🥳🎉🎊💖

All of my masterlists are here.

[eclecticopposition]

31 23 41, 5 & 23 for wire guy

aah, thank you for the ask! :}

fic writer asks

unsure if you meant 23 for wire guy or if it was one of the [insert fic] questions (probably 22 or 24!), so we're going to answer both of those! (if it was another number, you can always send in another ask)

anyways, putting this under a cut to spare your dash. wire guy talk and palisade stuff below.

(also, you should read wire guy.)

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write?

actually finishable is nice. so like, 12000 words? there are a few points that just feel nice to our brain. we can write a good 2200 and 2700, a pretty good 5k, and a really good 8k. a solid fic to us is right around the length of an average wire guy chapter. or it's one of our runaway projects, like oceanus. we do love getting tied up in a good longfic.

this doesn't answer your question. how about "the more words we can put in it without making it worse the better"?

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

we'd like to write a nonlinear weird fic or something with poetry. something experimental that might be incredibly unapproachable, at least to us.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

well, our first favorite fic author was @estelraca, so we think we've gotta shout them out here. they turned apollo justice into a werewolf and we had a great time. more recently, we admired the ambience and construction and emotional nuance of the center cannot hold. it's a hunter x hunter fic that we really enjoyed. we also highly recommend Pound The Table! marvel universe lawyer fic written by an actual lawyer. it rules. we don't even go here, and it's so good and explains itself so well that we honestly don't need to.

and for wire guy;

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [Wire Guy]? Answer it now!

The question is "what is wire guy actually about?"

The answer is "being a wire guy".

And then the actual question is "what does that mean?"

"what does that mean?" is also the actual answer to the first question. this is what wire guy is about.

(and then we've got two thousand words of elaboration, on both this and how it's juxtaposed with two other guys, which is what we would love to be asked about. or, arguably, we have like 120k words of elaboration, 74k of which are currently posted.)

(the other thing wire guy is about is the fact that phrygian had so many depression flags through all of palisade, but because brnine was brnine and cori and figure were having much louder breakdowns, the Copers on the team slipped through the cracks. so we wrote a novel.)

(it's also about pirates. and weird metal heists. we've been told that this fic has more metal heists than may be strictly necessary.)

22. Who is your favorite character in [Wire Guy] and why?

that's such a good question. the obvious answer is phrygian, which is why it's all in their POV! we think that some of the liberties we took with their character were pretty personal to us. working through trauma on their own, struggling with alienation and coersive pressure, being trapped and used, and just the general way they engage with reality was pretty bound up in where our mind was at. we think that given how many people have said they saw something of themselves in our phrygian depiction, too, we might have hit on something resonant. (haha.)

phrygian is such a tragic character, and we think about them a lot. not even just because we're attached to them! (admittedly we are attached to them and we get an emotional spike every time they're mentioned). not getting into heavy palisade spoilers for friendship reasons, but the degree of alienation that they experience and the fact that *the players* are weirded out by things that we personally parse as attempts to self express or connect just gets to us. it's one of those things where we want to crawl around in their brain and just talk about everything we find in there. there's so much depth! most of it is very sad even though it doesn't have to be! and canon does not explore it nearly as much as we want it to, because that's completely infeasible for a podcast or even a work of fiction! we wouldn't even want them to. what we want is like, drops of the pure extract of phrygian characterization juice at frequent and irregular intervals.

also, they're extremely cool and competent. we love the powergaming and watching them win. cool gun go brrrr.

(the second secret answer is lantana lao. this is because lan is a third option to the dreadful bind presented to phrygian in the form of lang silversite, someone who supports them and the branched enthusiastically but in a specifically military capacity, and wants them to go all in on using themself for war; and kel pire, someone who encourages their presence in a behind the scenes capacity, but undermines their boundaries and is much less open to the idea of them having any sort of public presence. what she is able to represent doesn't actually happen in wire guy, but it does happen both in an extras fic that we're also writing, and in our heart. and in wire guy, she's actually their friend! she actually wants to learn about the branched! we want them to have friends. we want them to get to talk to someone who actually talks to them and is a meaningful point of connection in a world that is so unwilling to give it. is that so much to ask?)

24. Are there any easter eggs in [Wire Guy], and if so, what are they?

there are a few! some are in future chapters. but most of them are little partizan nods, which we have a lot of fun with. the ring that lets leap listen in on nidean intelligence comes to mind.

does repeated symbolism count as an easter egg? if so, keep an eye out for things phrygian refers to as useful; keep an eye on wearing shoes; keep an eye on when phrasing is repeated back with small changes; keep an eye on that classic reference to blood in the back of their throat. and keep a close eye on the lights. phrygian does, sometimes.

[homesickn]

Isn't bite also touch?

Chapter six! (Chapter 7)

(Loki X Female demon!reader)

Summary of the chapter: It's the first Stark's party you two are going to, what's going to happen?

Warnings: fingering, oral sex, vomiting, handjob, and a lot of blasphemy, I assume. We have this a lot here.

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101

Note: It shouldn't have taken so long, but this chapter contains almost 8k words, I hope it's not too exhausting but I wanted to keep it in one. I promise next ones are going to have less words, I hope you enjoy it, truly. I love every single interaction I receive. ♡

Now get ready, I'm already wearing my suit and tie 'cause we're having a party!!

A party. Of course, Stark planned a party.

It came unexpectedly when he announced it, but to his defense —he explained, “We work all the time, how could a little time-off hurt? Just a night of partying for us,” trying not to get into any discussions with the team, but everyone knew he'd do anything he wanted anyway.

“I need to have a reason now?” He huffed angrily, all the others gasping at his sentence. Steve mumbled something about 'rich people always making a huge party for nothing.' “Yes, ancient relic, it's become an addiction by this point.” He cleared his throat, “I can always claim it's for our two new additions.” He presents you and Loki to the conversation.

That's how it ended up where you are now, sitting on the main couch two days afterwards. With Nat trying to show you how to do a makeup look like hers.

“Okay, tilt your head up a bit.” You do as she says. She holds your chin and highlights your cheekbones. “You look beautiful with this, even more than usual.” 

You're not sure what to respond, you just shrug messily, but feel your cheeks warm at the comment. You noticed her eyes stared intensely now in comparison to the first day, when she wouldn't even look at you.

You two were alone doing the makeup until two of the men decided to sit around and watch. The men being Clint and Thor.

“Can you do one on me too?” Thor asked, laughing a little but seeing truthful in his words. “I mean it, I think this art is really pretty. My people do this too, but it doesn't look like that.” 

“And what does it look like?” Asked Clint. 

“Well, firstly it kind of involves a bit more blood. The warriors —men, mainly— prefer to have their faces painted with blood, before, after or during a battle.” He took a sip of his alcoholic drink, you were interested in the story. 

“Whose blood?” You wondered with a crooked smile.

“Of the ones who die first.” He laughs and finishes the rest of his drink in a large sip. “They are unlucky, but we consider their blood honorable. So their death is honored, and gives us more luck with their passing to Valhalla.”

“Brother,” Loki makes his entrance in the room, “you never cease your battle-talk.” He smirks, you noticed he's a bit more mirthful these past few days. You believe he's starting to notice this too, compared to how tired he was some days ago.

“I think battle-talks are entertaining.” You say and look at Thor,  “They're the ones everyone wants to listen to.” 

“Of course you'd think that.” You try to ignore Loki's eyes. “Anything with blood interests you, I wonder what else would–”

“Alright, you two are getting a little too close for me.” Clint said getting up quickly and going to the feast, far closer to where Tony was drowning in his beverages.

“I think Tony's enjoying it too much.” You say. “I don't see the appeal in losing your sense of control.” You were still looking at Tony, so you didn't see Loki's eyes sparkling with mischief and new ideas.

“You should try this.” He puts up a glass with something that looks a bit too much like beer to you. 

“I've tried beer before and it's disgusting.” You put the glass away with your fingers. 

“It's not beer.” He simply says, “I'll take it as you're too weak to taste it. Even the gods faint at the single taste of a powerful Asgardian mead.” He says too proudly.

You picked some interest at that, looking over your shoulder at the glass with a look of superiority. 

“Come on, demoness!” Thor almost screamed with joy, “It's a moment of pride for our Asgardian heart. So we can see your reaction.” He gestured to both himself and Loki.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the glass from the table, swallowing its content in a single second. 

“See? Nothing, it's nothing to me.” You crossed your arms and gave them a tight-lipped smile.

“PASS ME SOME OF THAT!” Stark appeared suddenly with three other strangers around him. Looking all like a proper Queen Bee.

“It's definitely better if you don't even touch it, Stark, not in your state.” Thor hurries to hide the mead, “It's not made for human men.” 

“Then it is exactly what I'm looking for today!” He smiles trying to reach for the bottle once more.

“Hi Thor!” Some girl waved at Thor, Loki rolled his eyes and focused on you again.

“Drink more.” Loki pointed to the full bottle at the side of the table, “I could use a few too, I'm so glad Thor could bring this from Asgard.”

“Normal alcohol does nothing to you, I'm guessing?”

“That you've guessed right.” He confirmed, already putting more mead on his glass. Lifting it up to present it to you with a lifting eyebrow, “A toast for us?”

You moved to accept and grab more for you. 

The tower got full quicker than expected and to your surprise you failed to meet some of your known buddies. You met new nurses, some businessmen, some business-people in general, even celebrities (which might be an out-of-this-world-experience for humans).

You left a quiet gasp of surprise and quickly turned around when you felt a touch on your shoulder. The cold breath hitting your neck made you come to your senses quite quickly so you already had an idea who the person was.

“Loki,” You whisper, trying to keep your timbre low. “What are you doing?!” You exclaimed as discreetly as possible.

“What does it look like I'm doing?” You couldn't pinch the alcohol in his breath, you quickly wondered if this was an illusion he pulled on the spot or if he simply was used to the drink so he just didn't get drunk.

His hand moved from your shoulder to pass openly over your body's upper half. Discreetly going through your breasts to your stomach to finally reach your hips and grab them with passion. And pressed his body with precision against your back.

He couldn't stop touching your hips with his fingertips and pressing his distinguishable hard-on on the curve of your ass. Making you squeak as you tried to not bring attention to you, tried to pretend nothing was happening.

“Are you drunk?" You're facing him now, turning to bring your arms around his shoulders, silently wishing he would pick you up from the position. Maybe the closer you've gotten together these past few days made him get comfortable enough to do this. Either way, you couldn't say you minded. 

“Hmmm,” He hummed, pressing his face on the crook of your neck, smelling the new human perfume that Nat insisted on putting on you.

“No,” he finally answered. “I'm not drunk, just a bit full, but nothing I can't handle.” He gives you a characteristic smirk, wanting nothing more than to take the offending clothes off your body and give in to his desires, make sure his primitive instincts get sated right there, in front of everyone. You bit your lips with the lights turning your vision.

He groaned in your ear as you squirmed in his embrace, —as if he heard your mind, he made sure to pull you up and even closer to him. Getting you all puzzled, but once again, not even complaining. You understand by the atmosphere the place has, and the attraction you give, this might even come as irresistible to him.

The loudness could make your heartbeat quake and the floor tremble beneath your feet and the very vulnerability the humans presented in the scene in front of you was something of a proper entertaining performance to your eyes.

But you couldn't help but feel addicted to it, you felt the rushing in your veins and your blood pulsing mistakenly mixing with the local music.

“What if we get out of here?” You tried to induce Loki. “Maybe you're giving in to this Devil's tricks after all.” You couldn't help but smile sweetingly.

“Oh dear, right now I couldn't care less. I've denied it for long enough.” You doubted his truth about being sober, as he maintened his harsh grip on you, marking your skin with his nails. “We could always just stay right here.” He smoothly moves your body up and down his clothed erection, licking his lips with a charming smile as you feel him throb through his pants. 

He suddenly leaned forward to, desperately, start kissing you, for the first time. His hands explore as much as he possibly can as if you two have so little time, as if you'd run away anytime and he wouldn't get to memorize you. He's kissing you like he's been denying himself the temptation.

“Loki,” You moan against your will, putting your hands to his chest to get a break from him, trying to catch your breath, halting his tongue from greedily seeking yours. 

Your hands look tiny in comparison to his bulky stature and it made your eyes wide at the sight, he seemed every bit as god-like as possible. “Loki…” 

“Yes, my fierce demoness? Are you going to take my soul? Or do I need to give you what you need most?” His pupils were dilated at the sight of your breathless state, your lips plump from the kissing and shining with the mix of your saliva, dripping a little beside your chin, your eyes shining bright just for him, making his cock twitch. “If I give you my cock, will you become more amicable? I wonder…” 

The possessiveness in his position, with your thighs spread apart for his body to accommodate between your legs, exactly where he should've been this whole time. Damned be the consequences, blame it on the party if needed, but his hands wouldn't stay away from you even if he tried.

“What is it that I need? You think I need you, now?” Fuck me. Fuck me. His talking was cruel as you felt your body burn. 

His hand delicately moves lower to rest on your pelvis. His huge palm pressing it like it's his, like such a private part of you it's his property, caressing it and making you shiver as you restlessly snapped your head around the room. 

You gulped a bit from the sight. “Loki? We should cast an illusion... I can cast it if you want.” You said.

“Do we need to?” He bit your earlobe, and almost desperately as possible, reached down to your lips again, wanting to stay close. Wanting to constantly touch you. “Imagine what a time we'd have,” He spread your thighs even wider, making you gasp as his hands were claiming, tightening around your skin. “If they could see you like this, a dangerous monster to their eyes. So fucked up and wet for a God...and one like me, the one they despise…” 

His eyes sparked like offering a challenge, like you're in the company of a wolf ready to devour you.

“Right, darling? Do you think they'd get off on you too? I'm almost making a mess of my pants just from the sight of you, imagine what these mortals would do.” He moved your dress up to present more of you to him, and you shiver, unable to stop your sounds as you squirm in his grasp. “Shhh,” he whispers. “Shhh, my devilish little whore–” 

His words make you groan with sudden distaste but he quiets you, putting you down and turning your body so your back is against him once more, and moving his other palm to your mouth. Silencing any protest that you'd make from his words, until you bite his skin. He lets go with a hiss.

“I'll murder you if you try to offend me,” Your eyes look murderous as you force your neck to glance at him, “I know it turns you on, but I'll kill you, Loki.” You press your nails down the skin of his arms, wanting to scratch him and make him hurt for his single comment.

“I've put a spell on us,” He says, groaning from a momentary friction the roll of his hips caused. “No one will catch us.” His voice was so tempting, you feared he was making you weak. You knew he was lying about the spell but it suddenly felt irresistible to comment anything against him.

His fingers slide down to brush the thin cloth of your already soaked panties, just from his brutish handling but delicate caresses. Loki starts kissing your jaw and his teeth scrapes over your neck, biting and licking it until he leaves a mark.

He brings your panties to the side and starts trailing his finger over your folds, taking his moment to massage your clit, eyes glinting with want and he looks down, frantically wishing he could just lower himself down right there and worship your quim like you're a goddess instead of a sinner. Your cunt clenched with each stroke and you couldn't hold the soft whine of the god's name as he went faster. “Loki.”

He took such a pleasure from listening to your voice as you say his name, he couldn't contain himself, his hips rutting on your behind, glued to your body, merging himself with the curve of your naked ass whilst he remained fully dressed, holding you in place, and leaving his mouth open as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Your voice… say my name…” He pleads and you grant him his wish, unable to control your own instincts.

His finger slides into your entrance whilst he keeps his thumb pleasuring your clit, giving your body a mind-numbing pressure, you couldn't even stop shaking, stuck in between his arms. Your jaw is clenched and your teeth gritted, trying to keep yourself from moaning too loudly and giving him satisfaction.

“Lose yourself to me, you can do it, I'm here for you,” he coos somewhat mockingly to you, feigning innocence in his tone, enticing you with his true purpose. 

He makes you yelp when he curls his fingers inside you, you squirm and grip onto his arm and whine like a needy whore. “Your voice is ruining me, those pretty little sounds.” He sounded just as ruined, his voice so low and gravely and almost stuttering his words by being so drunk with pleasure.

He fervently rubs his thumb deeper against your desperate clit. “And you thought you could stick around with them, whoever these heroes think they are, they could never have you, they–” he pauses and groans out ferociously, gritting his teeth looking up, overwhelmed with this simple pleasure. “T–they could never have this. As long as you're my ruin, you're still mine, not Thor's, never anyone else's, you're mine now.”

You moan out, if all his anger makes you burn, now the pleasures all mix in one. Your vision was both the red from the party and red from his emotions, your mouth open, unstopping the cries of pleasure you felt as you desperately clenched your thighs together, making everything oh much tighter and pleasing for both of you, you both moaned together from the friction, but he still burst your thighs open right there just to continue his fingering.

“Ride my fingers, my angel,” he maliciously says, you shiver in his embrace. “Do it,” he groans into your ear, gritting his teeth and looking at the ceiling to keep himself contained. 

Your half lidded eyes and parted lips, chest heaving with the impact he has against your back, thrusting his hips against yours matching his fingers inside you. “Fuck.” He curses, desperately clutching more of your skin. “Fuck it, I need more.”

You can barely blink before he completely manhandles your body, grasping your legs up and throwing you on top of a wooden table at a corner, you wonder how the humans didn't turn their heads on you from the noise. He keeps your dress up and growls like a beast when catching the sight of your fucked-up state.

He eagerly pulls off the material still covering your cunt, and his eyes focus on the spot between your legs, you swear you can see his mouth watering. He licks his lips and his pupils are purely blown out, hiding all the usual cerulean color they have. 

Desperate, you feel your cunt squeeze around nothing, you worry you might make a mess of the table with your juices.

Your cunt feels so warm beneath his fingers as he cups it with his hands, his eyes are looking at it with such adoration. Practically clawing the rest of the dress out of your body, in a hurry, holding all the skin he can in the way, admiring the way your breasts jiggle as they were shown to him. A moment that could be mistaken as sacred if not so sinfully sacrilegious. 

You couldn't stop it, it was making you feel full before even starting, the power you felt from him and the strength you felt were all so luxurious it made you close your thighs together, which made him sternly pull them apart once again.

“Tch, tch,” he reprimands you, having to keep his grip stern on you again. “Who knew you'd be such a ferocious little thing under my touch? Can't even stop moving,” He grits his teeth and brings his hand down to slap your ass with a strong impact. “Stop wiggling,” he says firmly.

“Damn it,” you curse, feeling the stinging pain. “What are you doing to me?" You even feel dizzy.

“Why do I have to be doing something? That's just how you feel, little demoness.” He licks the skin beneath your neck, going for open-mouthed kisses as he speaks against your pulse. “There's no running away, I have to have you.” You almost miss him undoing his belt with an animalistic force, throwing it aside with a clunk sound. “You're my godslut now, aren't you? You're doing anything for your God…look how far you've fallen.” He chuckles, gripping your waist.

His hands take their time grasping your breasts, moving his mouth to delicately start licking them with reverent precision, giving you very wide eyes as he looks up, silently seeking your affections. 

You lose your breath as you look down at him, grabbing his dark hair and pulling him closer onto your chest, wanting to suffocate his face against the skin of your breasts, wanting to feel him inside of you, his cold tongue made everything feel divine. 

His tongue moves to gently worship your other nipple as he carefully gives attention toying with the other. His giant hand cupping your breast, making it feel so full to him as he squeezes and hears your pleasured soft sighs and squeaks when he presses too much.

“Loki, Loki,” you call his name among the whimpers, he brings himself to his knees for you, sliding his hands around you as he kneels. Looking up while delaying around the area of your hips, his hair is all messed up from your pulling already, and he reverently locks his eyes with your pussy again, watching its softness so puffy from want, he can smell your arousal from how much you're dripping, it's enchanting him, he can't think of anything else but you, not even about his painfully throbbing cock begging for attention.

“I need to…” He tries to catch his breath as soon as possible, moving his hands smoothly down your thighs and silently looking up to you, asking for permission. “Please.” he almost squeaks out.

You didn't know why you couldn't just speak but you frantically nodded your head, desperately wishing to continue, giving him your consent as he desperately leaned in to drown himself into your pussy. You grab him by the hair, pulling him even closer as you bring your thighs together instinctively, wincing from the contact of his cold tongue in you but quickly moaning out to the air as you ride his welcoming tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk,” your voice draws the mewling, and he deliciously accepts the pressure you put to drive him further. Dragging his curls up to bring his mouth up and down on you, delighting himself on your lips and fucking the spot inside of you that made you quiver, drawing even more moans of you. “Fucking hell, w–what, I–” You breathe out a long trembling breath, and you're tempted to brag but it's as if he can sense your coming petulance and he blissfully let's out a wanton moan bringing multiple vibrations to your core, doing that on purpose.

When you let go of his hair to get a grip of yourself he pulls himself even deeper inside you, if that's possible. His nose bumps your clit as he eats you out like a starved man, he skillfully moves his lips around the bud and sucks hard. 

You start riding his face, with sweat shining down your neck and on the curve of your breasts, looking down at him with blown eyes and a clear impatience for release.

You could feel his magic working unconsciously to him, surrounding and overwhelming you whilst he remained unaware of its use. You gracefully move his head —with a small fight because he doesn't want to let go of his newfound spot inside of you— for a second, and you see his entire face glistening with your arousal, he licks his soaked lips excitedly waiting for you to pull him in again.

Your head goes back in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm approaching, your senses being numbed as your only thought was him and his mouth, his face between your legs, his tongue, how red and desperate he seems, his cock standing up proudly so red and ready to burst, his hair messily among your fingertips, his fingers on your hips, his magic, his veiny hands, his body taking place between you, him, him, him.

When he realizes you're about to cum he brings his fingers in to join his pleasing tongue, curling them inside you and sucking your bundle of nerves as just as hard, just like he knew how to make your toes curl and you drown him with your cum as you moan out to the air. 

You have to stick your fist into your mouth after some seconds to muffle your moaning, and Loki's hands are punishingly grabbing you in response, mixing the bare skin with your juices and guiding you through your orgasm with his tongue.

When he sees you calming down and your legs shaking a bit too hard, you softly bring his head back out of your cunt, and massage your fingers through the strands of his dark hair. The moment even seemed soft as he pressed his head on your pelvis and gave very heartfelt breaths to recompose himself, licking the juices he has all over his lips with such passion and awe, as if your taste was that of a sweet fruit he could never grow to despise, it made your heart step a beat.

He licked his fingers covered with the remains of your cum, moaning around them and making you shake your head to the sound, his moan made your cunt flutter in response. “You're ridiculous,” You breathe out, still trying to recover your normal breathing pattern. 

You cry out as his palms hit your ass with a strong powerful strike. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, owww,” you hiss after a blasphemous complain. He puts his hand over the spot after to cover the red he was responsible for, giving you a not-so apologetic smile.

“Don't mock me,” He felt so surprisingly powerful, more than he has felt during all these days since he met you. The other days he could feel his energy diminishing and he could logically blame it on his lack of sleep, but now he had you and he felt himself burn with such energy. It was almost overwhelming. He felt like he could have you for hours on end.

You quickly lean towards him and bring your hand to hold his fully throbbing cock, the tip angrily reddish and begging for attention. And you grant it to him, you wrap your fist around it and start pumping his cock, merging his precum all over your palms and making you lose your breath all over again by how easily he could be throughly fucked.

He yelped as the constant movement made him lose himself, getting his body closer to yours and wrapping you into his arms, rutting into your hand and resting his forehead against yours as he moaned with a such low gravy voice, so close to losing it. Your body close to his in a mixture of sweat and sex, and he wanted nothing more than to put it in and feel the comfort of your warm cunt to wrap around him. 

Your pumping and the tightness of your soft palm only working his fantasies further, his imagination of wanting to dive himself inside your cunt as your walls milk his cock so tightly. And now he cries out, whimpering your name and the word 'demon', 'demon'. You moan as if he's worshiping your summoning. 

He's almost breaking your skin with his fingertips, applying so much pressure on your shoulders as he bites your neck to contain a loud groan from a fervid thrusting. And as his mouth leaves your neck, his eyes roll up to the ceiling and he gives a guttural groan followed by a long, almost quiet moan as his mouth opens up drowned in pleasure.

His thrusts in your hand begin wavering and getting unsteady as his knees buckle and his grip on you tightens, his moaning unstoppable as he releases pearly white semen onto your hands and near your pelvis and abdomen. He looks down with glazed eyes and grunts as he watches his cum marking your skin. 

You collect the cum from your skin and put your very messily sticky fingers into your mouth, licking his semen off of you.

“I'm cleaning myself,” you explain as he couldn't stop watching, entranced, bewitched by your tongue surrounding his essence like it's your favorite taste, —and you couldn't deny he tasted delicious, but in your defense, you've never tasted the cum of a god, you weren't aware if it was just Loki. 

Your words make him notice you again, he suddenly remembers the suddenness of all of this, what his sex-ridden brain made you two do, the awe he held in his expression for you before now replaced with an undescriptive look.

His cock twitched from the sound of you sucking your fingers clean. Recovering from his post-orgasm, he took deep breaths to recompose better and pressed his fingers against your flesh as some ground to fix himself upon, or maybe just a reminder that you're still here and he's not cursed.

He feels surprisingly light, like he doesn't have anything else to worry about at the moment. He thought by this point he'd have to worry about getting weaker after you received his sexual attention.

But no, he feels just as strong, more alive than he felt during all this time, especially more alive than he felt before the New York attack.

“Have you drugged me, sweet?” He asked, the suddenness of it making you give a light-hearted laugh. “Have you stolen my soul from me? Hm? Are you making me sick, little devil?” He asks moving his nose around your cheek so softly, leaning close to your neck to smell you. 

“I'm not. I can feel it too.”

None of you say anything, he just keeps holding you. You can feel his arms slowly wrapping around your waist, and for the first time in so long you question what you're doing.

After a moment of silence, he dares to break it. 

“Demoness…” he calls you. “If you wanted to, could you get drunk?” He's curious.

“Yes. Yes, of course I can.” You say, almost offended by his phrase.

“Would you?” He gives curls a strand of your hair with his finger, watching it as it whoops when he let it go. Snapping his head to meet your gaze, looking as unexpressive as can but keeping the contact. “Would you get drunk with me?”

The noise increased tenfold but also did the mindnumbing happiness you were feeling. Now you understand what the humans find so appealing, this feels like a biblically description of Heaven. That coming from the brain of a demon, it makes your skin crawl.

The humans were shaking from the songs and a guy named Rhodys came around presenting you one more round of recently found 'vodka', you smelled it but didn't think twice before drinking the content in one go. You seemed even more cheerful after the graciously spent-time with Loki. The humans cheering for you and applauding like they always do for anything stupid.

Gods, you almost felt human. Ugh. You were both repulsed and amused.

The dancing was what got you all happy and smiley, you just couldn't keep your smile hidden and your jaw was aching from the constant joy. 

“What if we play two truths and a lie?”

“Oh, or even better, truth or dare!”

“Noooo, these are for children,” said a slurred voice through the crowd, you giggled at their drunken tone.

“Loki would suck at this,” the god heard you and gave your shoulder a small bite. Nothing to break the skin but still made you hiss. “Can you not? I swear you're addicted to this, biting.” You moved to throw your finger to his face, which he gladly took as a sign he could lick it.

“Isn't it already enough that I have a bunch of hickies to hide, thanks to you?” You say attempting to keep stern, and keeping your voice quiet, but he could see right through your façade.

“I want to see what the games would be...” He says, his words muffled by being said against your neck. “I'm curious to see how you'd charm the mortals' contest. That's all.” He said more clearly now.

You let your stern look slip and come back to a smile, avoiding his face now. 

“I suggest a new drinking game!” Thor brings to the talk, “I want to see how you fail at lifting Mjolnir. If you manage to lift it up, I'll drink all the alcoholic drinks you all are drinking. If you lose, you drink a cup yourself.” He explains, Loki can't help but lay on the couch with an annoyed sigh.

“This pompous bastard will do anything just to be the center of attention. Wanting to spread his 'worthiness' that's made up by Odin's standards.” Loki says.

“I feel like Loki would enjoy the party way more if his brother wasn't here.” Said the nurse, Chloe, that was glued to Thor's side.

“You got it right.” Loki answered, you sat on the couch with him. 

“Don't bring the party down.” You say, “That's not much to your spirits, is it?” you smile knowingly, “You usually are so sociable. Thor's just trying to bring some entertainment.” You take the time he's focused on you to rest your hand on his thigh, his thighs were spreaded apart on the couch.

“For him, yes.”

“But if he fails, then imagine what his face would look like.” You look like you're up to something, Loki snapped his head to look at you, for a moment you thought he truly just stopped and…looked at you.

He gives you a smile and quickly tries to hide it, you both share a look and agree to play. All the heroes go first whilst you and Loki just observe the scenes.

First Clint, then Tony, then Cap. Your eyes darken as you see the way it slightly moved, and Thor's face changed for a millisecond at that, but it did nothing else.

Loki pretended to be disinterested but you could feel his anxiety spiking through your body, almost infecting your own emotions. 

You truly believed you were both weakening each other by staying together. You could make him feel stronger, you could stop some punishments, you were the reason he felt tired, but now, it feels like the humans are showing you something new. 

It wasn't supposed to be this way, it makes your heart sink to your stomach, filling it with dread.

But who cares for now? You can just pretend as you watch them, and worry about such concerns at a later point, until you have to face them again. You turn to look at Loki and wonder if you're being too emotional, or if allowing yourself to drink was a mistake.

“Loki?” Thor calls his brother, offering the hammer. Loki moves in his seat, unquiet, only you knowing of his rushing nervous heartbeats.

“I'm not sure I wish to be part of it,” he gulped, ignoring everyone's eyes. You took his hand in yours, and he pulled it away in a rush.

“If there's anyone in this room you can be certain is unworthy, that person is Loki!” Clint boomed a laughter and made a whole bunch of people laugh with him. 

Humiliation ran through the god's veins in such an uncomfortable amount you could feel it within yourself, or perhaps you're just too close to him by now. And you shouldn't be.

“I want to try next.” You say with a blank face, their laughs slowly dying out. The silence opens space to new sounds of quiet mockery. 

“I'm actually a bit scared now,” said Thor, visibly shivering a little, “I know I've agreed on everyone playing but…demons? Feels like cheating! I'm aware you can cheat anytime.” He said, curiously looking around him seeking some agreement, and everyone was on his side. A poor trembling guy, that was clearly drenched in cold sweat, couldn't stop nodding his head at Thor's statement.

“We said we'd play, right?” You said, “Loki can go after me, as an obligation, or if I fail. Nothing to prove here, and I don't need to cheat.” As likable as you were, Thor had to admit you get scary frighteningly quickly.

“Ok, rules are rules!” He gives you two a tight-lipped smile, not looking very genuine, not only thinking about his uniqueness of being the only one able to lift Mjolnir but also of losing the bet he had made. 

You stand up and get a hold of the hammer, not even needing much effort to lift it up in your hands. Honestly it even surprised yourself.

The room got quiet to cricket noises, only the loud music filling everyone's eardrums. Then suddenly a loud cheering could be heard so loud it could make anyone's ears bleed.

People were clapping, Tony was just still flabbergasted, trying to tell everyone he must have moved it a bit for you. Clint was telling them how it was indeed just a scam and a trick. Thor yelled “Cheater!” very loudly, pointing an accusing finger to you.

And Loki, Loki didn't know if he wanted to pull you into his arms and suffocate you or if his envy would consume him. It was such a mix of emotions you swore you could almost feel the tears coming to your very eyes. 

His hands trembled as if he wanted to grab you by your legs and pull you into his arms and keep you there, but he also was lost in allowing you to have this moment, before his head would get filled with childhood sour traumas of not being good enough, not being worthy.

Other than this sour feeling, he was proud it was you. He would just never admit it.

Thor took a good time open-mouthed in shock and accusing before casually laughing in nervousness, trying to act casual again, saying things like “that probably didn't count”, as he said before, you're a demon, but “for the sake of keeping my word, I'll do the dare,” and asking as much people as possible how much they had to drink —the ones that could remember it, and the ones that could just guess.

Quick equation, and Tony made sure to bring as many glasses of various drinks as he could, even asking others to bring more. Thor wouldn't deny the challenge, but he felt the shame of losing.

Your grip on the hammer made you stop and analyze it for a second. It came from the heart of a dying star, it felt just as cold as one can imagine. Uru metal. You moved it from one hand to the other, the hammer seemed odd in your hands.

“What does it feel like?” Loki asks, and a human probably wouldn't have listened to his question, but you did.

“Quite cold.” You answer. He's silent for a moment.

“That's never what I thought it'd feel like.” He gives a cuffed fake-laugh. You look at him.

“I would offer something but…” Your words traveled as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “I like that you're not worthy to Odin's standards.” You shrug. Look around, everyone's focusing on Thor. You come back to focus on Loki.

You clear your throat and lean closer to his ears, one leg lifting up on the couch for support of your body. He allows himself to touch your thigh, with a certain passion for reminder of what you felt like, he held your dress with his fingers.

“I cheated.” You said, ever so, so quietly, he could wonder if you said the two words telepathically. His eyes sparkled in amusement looking up at you, even if it's against his will, he couldn't avoid it.

He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and bring your face down until your faces were on the same level, his cold breath now smelled of the just-discovered mead. He touched his fingers on your lips and your eyes fell to look at his. 

And he leaned to kiss you again, different from the first time, now it felt as calm as a wind. Just supposed to happen, like it's all right. You present yourself more so he can slip his tongue further, grabbing your arms now to bring you closer, he seemed to like that a lot.

And of course, with all the lack of privacy you can have in the tower. Clint interrupted with a fake cough.

“I can endure your stay here just no mingling in the couch we're sitting on” He gestures to the couch while he says so.

“We're not mingling,”

“You're making out!” Steve said, “I–It's not…shouldn't be allowed.”

“This is a party, come on, it's not like it's unexpected, I mean look at them,” Nat said and pointed to the two of you. You turn to face Loki again and give him a cat-like smile as you lift yourself off his lap, making him pout.

“Now my lap is cold.” Still pouting.

“Oh no, what a horror.” You jest, still smiling. One hand grabs Mjolnir again, throws it in the air, seeing what it's like. Then the other hand goes to grab a drink and swallow it down in one go.

You can feel the fuzziness but just assume it does nothing to your organism. Choosing to induce in your study and drink a lot more too, everyone was having a blast from ingesting too much alcohol, it surely wouldn't hurt.

Thor gives you a drink he was having, saying it's one that came almost too close to affecting him, or maybe he was already incredibly drunk. You accept it with a fun grin on your face. Loki doesn't comment on your drunk state, he's allowing himself some more mead himself, he trusts your nature of keeping control at all times.

Thor's hand suddenly touches your hips to move your way and Loki's eyes widen and he gasps, funnily to you, standing up and taking his brother's hands off of you. Which makes you smile just so much, his jealousy was amusing you.

“Not her, you're not allowed to touch her.” He says, still too calm for his attitudes, Thor puts his hands up in a sign of defeat.

“I wasn't trying to do anything.”

“Yeah, dude, that's too possessive,” Clint says, staring at you. “And I thought she was going to be the only possessive one.”

“Oh…dear,” You laugh and almost lose your feet, having to keep yourself up. “Dear entities of all Hells help me keep myself up, oooooh no, oh dear...” You lost your composure again, eyes falling shut a bit, watching everything through cluttered eyelashes.

Then you lift yourself up with energy effort, and bring the drink up too, obviously too drunk.

“And I dedicate this one to...” You lift the luminous drink in your hand, traveling your words off a bit, casually becoming the life of the party.

You could feel the stare of possibly three people, their blood rushing to a very noisy rhythm. One of them just mumbled a lot of prayers unstoppingly, clutching his crucifix for dear life. Your mind questioned how his hands didn't burn or mark themselves from grasping so tightly, or maybe it did, and he was okay with letting it bleed for his prayers if it meant they would be answered.

“I dedicate this one to Loki!” You lift the glass higher, trying to ignore the guy bothering you, you just felt something happening, you didn't know what.

Loki held your hand and brought his glass to yours, clinking it and everyone cheered together, then he refrained and happily went to talk with someone else.

“You're…” The guy says, too quiet for anyone to notice but you know he's talking to you, and the music is too loud it's muffling his words to the others. “You're not supposed to be here, creature of Satan.” He spits and points at you.

You give him a false look that resembles a kicked puppy, pouting your lips and then changing your expression to normal again. “Are you going to cry to your God?” You ask just as quiet, trying to keep it just to him. “I'm in the presence of two and I don't see you praying for them.”

“T–T–they're no–t…they're not re–real go–god–gods…” The poor trembling guy couldn't stop stuttering and sobbing from his silent weep, the time spent with enjoyable humans made you momentarily forget how pathetic the humans could truly be. But his prayers were hurting your ears.

“So you think God will save you?” You gloat.

“He always does. If not him, then he'll send his angels.”

It's almost comical how coincidence can be, at the same moment that you're about to complain there was Tony trying to keep the reporters outside and denying them further private information. You soon enough grasped it was about you, or more specifically, you and Loki. Of course.

Reporters, paparazzis, multiple media-related people craved to enter the party and seek a piece of what it is about you and Loki that needs to be talked about. You were unaware, during the entire party, of how much they've been accusing the heroes of supporting a murderer that claims to have the role of a 'god', a being that most of all is supposed to protect others. It's one being they pray to.

And even worse, how they were supporting a blasphemous entity, shaming the image of God. Them, the heroes they trust their lives with, opening their arms to a creature from the underworld and sharing it to the news with a party.

“Tony, how did you not think about this?!” Steve asked in a screaming tone, wanting to bring Tony's attention to him. Pulling his shoulders to face him. “You had to give a parade to our most problematic hosts.”

“You know, that's what I hate so much about you, you pretend to be Mister goody two-shoes and forget that you weren't on the good side either! You didn't even comment about this possibility before when not seeing it happening in front of your eyes.” Tony snapped, pointing at Steve. They had to find every situation to fight?

“Don't you two ever do something else?” You ask quite bored, thoughtlessly playing with the end of your dress.

“You shut up, it's mostly your fault.” He accuses, his tone nears a bite.

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms. Loki —surprisingly — puts himself in front of you.

“I bet you've gotten what you wanted, rockstar,” he says to Loki, “You probably got to fuck her, because now you can't even keep yourself away from her. Look at that.” He chuckles dryly. “Whatever you gain from this outcome, if it's more than getting your dick wet, if it's something harmful, it'll be something you deserve.”

“Quit it, Stark. You're making it worse.” Nat's being the voice of reason.

“My affairs should be of no matter to you, you should be dealing with something else,” Loki says, moving to look at the furious people outside the huge giant window. “You're the head of the public, the people love you, fix this.” He finishes, in a sarcastic tone, moving back to wrap his arms around you.

“Loki,” you call, or likely whispers out. His eyes flicker to you.

“We should enjoy it,” his eyes carried his glint of mischief through the chaos, “we should drink some more.” You were unsure of how many glasses he had broken just from drinking, Thor just the same.

“You're just going to ignore that?” Stark asks.

“It can be our problem tomorrow,” Explains Clint, closing his eyes as he sank down to the carpet.

“Oh he's definitely throwing up on the carpet.” Nat shook her head, “I might be too sober for this.”

Loki took you with him to grab some more drinks, and a blonde man—a blonde hair resembling white, pure moonlight hair, — came from the entrance.

You proceed to scramble a bit on your feet to hide behind Loki, the man looked around the room but you hid, as best your drunken body can.

“What's wrong?” Loki asks genuinely worried now, seeing as you're practically glued to his body.

“Not him.” You say groggily from all the alcohol, damn you inducing the humans and their temporary pleasures. “Not…ah,” Your blood pressure fails you, “is my human body weak? Fuck's sake.” You complain loudly to the air.

“Calm down. I'm here.” He keeps supporting your body, gently touching your scalp to keep you grounded. Giving you a forehead kiss, probably the fault of the alcohol on his system. “Tell me, tell me,” He begs softly.

“My…” You tremble and vomit on the living room's carpet. “Oh, oh, the bloodiest of all Hells. The Devil should just take my body now…. I'm dying of embarrassment.” You put your hand on your temple.

“Darling.” He whispers kindly, and as softly as he can muster to keep you safe. “The humans are way worse, it happens to them all the time. Calm down, please. I can help you,” He lifts your body up and tries to carry you away but you keep trying to get out of his hold. “I'll wash your face for you, I'll do it, I'll help.” He repeats.

The blonde man seeks the crowd, and appears in front of you unexpectedly, “Sister?” He asks.

“Sister?” Loki echoes, as if not believing the man's words. “Is he your brother?”

You could throw up again if your stomach wasn't so empty. You feared you'd only display the gagging sounds, the attempts.

“Two demons?” Someone randomly muttered among the humans. The praying guy smiles gratefully now, kissing his crucifix with bright tears covering his vision.

“Oh, no. I'm an angel.” He gives a bright white smile to the people, and you throw up once again, this time on Loki's shoes.

[manonamora-if]

Weekly check in. Some little stuff, some bigger stuff.

Current word count: 23.323 (Ch.5), >8k (Ch.6)

And we're finally back on track with Harcourt, babyyyy. After a month of eh from both me (with the editing) and MelS (writing the next chapter), we both managed to break through our respective blocks.

As of a few days ago, I sent back the edited Chapter 5 to MelS, so he could answer my comments and check the changes. I finally got to read the missing bits (and they are creepy and yucky)... Can't wait to code all of that when it is ready. We definitely need another round of MelS editing the text and me checking it, before I can add that to the file.

Until I get the file back, I'll focus on other projects.

Like...

Yerup... I ended up finishing it. A little binksi with more vibes than story. Click if you dare :P

Making a binksi (or a bitsy/bipsi) had been something on my bucket list for a while now (almost a year actually), and I finally got to make one for realsies!

Honestly, the hardest part in all of this... was making the tiles/sprites in 8x8 pixels ;-; Anyway, the code is freely available on itch and my GitHub.

Fixed some accessibility issues yesterday:

textbox not getting in focus properly

links/buttons not changing state when in focus but not hovered

added image descriptions to pictures in French/English

Also added the logos of Twine and SugarCube when the game loads. Those are clickable too.

I have worked a tad more on the UI/missing elements. But not as much as I should have.

Next week, the final update should be out.

This is what I'll be fixing this month. Officially reopened the code files, stared at it, and cried. It's so bad. It's such a mess...

Not looking forward to it, but it needs fixing! (I've asked the Forum for help too in the commands...)

ALSO, I've decided there will be a hyperlink version of this game. Instead of the commands, click on words. It will be in the same file, and you get to choose at the start.

I’ve finished reviewing the EctoComp entries (except the Spanish-only ones because I suck at Spanish...) and have started reviewing the Bare-Bones Jam entry. An updated version of the reviews have been queues on the IFDB and @manonamora-if-reviews. I will probably go back to the IFComp entries after that (probably after the voting deadline... I've done 40 already...).

-_-

I've made a completely new intro post with all of the place I'm at (if you'd rather not be on Tumblr). It was a long time coming, and now I have clear channels of where I'm posting about stuff. Just need to be consistent...

I've also started migrating old dev logs and posts to my blog, especially the longer ones where I have a lot to say. Since the search function and archive on Tumblr is eh, I get to keep the important ones (not all of them are) in a more organised place. They are still on Tumblr, btw. It's not gone, just copied. It's been nice to revisit old dev logs, and see how far I've come (it's been a long way). It's pretty humbling (especially the typos, omg... I fixed so many of those).

-_-

The IFComp and EctoComp, are always looking for players/voters. If you want to play a few short-ish games, take advantage of that! There is only a few days left for the IFComp and a few weeks for the EctoComp.

The @seedcomp-if is always looking for inspiration (text, images, code, etc…) in this current first round. If you have half-baked ideas or anything, really, come submit something!

Over @neointeractives, ShuffleComp! is looking for playlists and participats :)

-_-

And that's it I think...

[theimaginatrix27]

It's August In Australia, so Let's Talk AUs!

I'm honestly kinda bad at keeping up with things like this, but I thought I'd natter on about some Star Trek: Deep Space Nine AUs that have been spooling out in my head over the past year.

Yes, this will include ones I've already started posting, because fuck it, they're on my mind and I love them.

So let's start with Family Defiant! AKA, the one where most of the main cast of DS9 is an adventuring found family in a setting where the Fae are real and fairy tales sometimes happen. Not like the Five Hundred Kingdoms does it, though—I did derive some inspiration from those books, among others, but it's my own tapestry of folklore and canon references.

Here's the series link, to start with!

There are two fics in the series so far, with more prequels and sequels to come. But it started with Seven for a Secret, which I was inspired to write after reading another fairy tale flavoured fic called Innate Conditions, by the lovely and talented @tokidokifish (Thank you again, my dear. Sorry I have not done the podfic of IC I promised yet, I had to Braille it up and also practice reading aloud, and I have been writing my own things as well, but I have not forgotten! And there's more fic for you to read now than there was before! :D )

Secret is based on one of my favourite fairy tales, The Wild Swans, but with a found family and only two out of the seven being swans for reasons explained in the author's notes of the fic. We're nearly 60k words in and still have not gotten to the beginning of the Garashir I promised with tags when I posted it, because I have tribbles in my head instead of plot bunnies, and they love to worldbuild even when it isn't strictly necessary, so even a fic someone, (like, say, Tokidokifish) can write up a similar fic and get all the finer points wrapped up in about 8k words, I, a notorious rambler and overthinker, end up making the setting more and more intricate, coming up with backstories for everyone (hence the themed prequels) and whole secondary plots that will need their own sequels to resolve), and more ideas just keep coming. And I used to wonder why it kept taking me so long to get any original work ready for publishing. I'm a chronic worldbuilder and the curse of the longform writer be upon me.

So among other things, the Prophets are Fae, which makes Ben half-Fae, and there is a whole B-plot in Secret about Ben which has only just gotten properly started as of currently-posted chapters, but which is also being built up in the prequel fic, One For Sorrow, two chapters of which have now been posted. And I'm sure there's gonna be more juicy stuff added that I don't even know about yet! And some I do know but won't spoil.

Anyways, I'm very proud of this AU, so go read it if you haven't already! Those who have really seem to like it, for some reason! :P

[two-reflections]

Been ill for the past week. Still not doing great now. (More info below.) But whatever, I'm back, though I'd be surprised if anyone noticed I wasn't around thanks to my queue. 😅

Haven't written anything for MMM because I haven't been awake for long enough each day to do much writing aside from bits for the upcoming exchange. I suppose I'm awake enough now to do a quick story audit, though. Click the Read More to see what I'm working on, and how I'm doing.

Writing Audit:

Aside from the first, these are vaguely in order of completeness/when they're likely to be posted.

TOP PRIORITY - Fic for the summer exchange. I have been doing some reading, and have put together an outline. I'm excited about this one, I really hope my giftee will like it. The problem? If I stick to this outline, the story will be several chapters long, and I'm probably not well enough to write all of it before the deadline. I wonder if it's acceptable to only put up a chapter or two of a gift exchange fic and finish it over the next few months?

Of Steel and Flesh - The next chapter was largely written back in January after the game that inspired this story, but as a consequence, it feels a bit too much like a TTRPG summary... It needs to be fleshed out more. Also, should it be split into two chapters? Unfortunately, while I love this story, it probably takes me the most effort to write, so it has been hard to work on recently. (Update the next day - Put out a chapter of this! Took me weeks to get it together.)

Alpha Legion short - I have a Alpha Legion short I threw together for an MMM post a while ago but I didn't post it because it was more silly than hot. My concern with this one is that I could easily see it becoming something much longer, like Iron Will, Crimson Whispers did. I don't have the space for another long project now, so I've been ignoring this one for a while. But I like it, and it shouldn't take too long to edit it...

Even in Death - The final chapter is basically complete, I just need to decide if I'm moving one section earlier so all the flashbacks will be in chronological order or if I should leave it as it is so there is a happier flashback following a sadder one. Once that's done, I can edit and post it.

Vulkan x Roboute short - Started outlining something for a friend. The pairing is cute and I want to make her something nice involving her OTP. This one will take me some research, though, so it probably won't be ready until after July. (Update - I guess I have to put on my clown makeup now, because I was reading The Art of War for unrelated reasons and ended up YOLOing this one.)

July MMM - One of the discord servers I'm in has been very keen on MMM recently. We're choosing a couple of prompts each month. Problem is, I recently wrote two stories that were a bit similar to July's prompts ("It's raining outside" is a thing in Feel for It, "knives and blood" was a thing in Afterparty). I've got something ready for it, though. Just need to wait til next Monday to post it.

Techmarine Story - This one is still in EARLY days. It doesn't even have a complete outline, just like 7-8k words in disconnected sections. I think I may need to severely narrow the scope of this one and make it either a oneshot or 3-6 short chapters. But I can't think about it anytime soon now I've signed up to a fic exchange.

Salamander Slice-of-Life Romance - My comfort project. It's coming along bit by bit, I probably add about 1k words to it a month. Still, I'm not in any sort of hurry to finish it. This is the one I really don't think anyone but me will ever want, haha. It's literally just an Astartes' first year or two on the job in a reserve company. Lots of mundanity, city life, squad dynamics, smaller deployments, and a romance with his brander-priest. I love it. It'll be ready when it's ready.

How I Am:

Warning, this is kind of a rant.

I miss being well. I was SO prolific just a month ago, before I got Covid again and had to go off my narcolepsy meds for an unrelated reason.

Even mild Covid sucks, but untreated narcolepsy is fucking shite. I've been on meds since I was 19, so I forgot how disabling it is. It felt less crushing before I was diagnosed, but at that point, that was the only way I had ever lived. Now, I've spent eleven years without the constant sleep attacks, and I can't remember how I used to manage this. (Probably badly since I ended up doing a full sleep study, lol.) It feels like I'm out of practice, if that makes sense? This whole thing has really thrown me for a loop.

Aside from writing, I haven't been painting much because I fall asleep when I sit still for more than a few minutes. Coffee helps, but I can only have one a day, so I'll drink my one coffee and then get a decent hour or two of painting at most before I'm back to being a bit useless. That may sound like a lot, but I'm a very slow painter. So, that's no fun.

I really don't want to just complain. My life is great, I'm very lucky to have a lovely spouse and not to be in a position where my narcolepsy could endanger my job or leave me homeless. I'm also lucky to be in the UK, where my diagnosis was free and I could actually afford eleven years of treatment without difficulty. But, fuck me, I want to be able to do normal human things again without falling asleep. This isn't forever, I'm off them for a good reason, but it may be a long time before I can go back on.

Ending on a happy note:

Hopefully, two friends and I will get to play Blood Bowl soon. She has played the digital version, he used to play but hasn't played for decades, and I've never played at all, so it should be a lot of fun. Plus, if there's three of us, whoever isn't playing can sub in for me if I fall asleep, haha.

[stedes-incredible-library]

hey there! thank you so much for this gem of a blog. I look forward to your posts. my fav type of fic is really tropey dubcon (think sex pollen / something made them do it / non con drug use, etc) where they both actually do want it so, even tho one always feel guilty, there’s a happy ending. do you have any recs along those lines? Thank you 💕

Hi Nonnie! You didn't specify a ship so we've included a variety. We're also not sure if you have read these before, because we started our hunt in some predictable tags (sex pollen, fuck or die, bad guys made them do it, etc). You didn't include omegaverse in your trope list, but some has been included here because heats provide a lot of fodder for this type of dubcon. The dubious-ness of the consent varies in the fics listed here so please read with care and attention to ships, summary, and tags for content. There is also our previous dub con rec list to review from back in August!

Pollen Season by Dracothelizard [E], 8k

An exploration mission Stede goes on with Roach and Lucius goes terrible wrong.

Or terribly right.

The Fucking Tea by Dracothelizard [E], 21k

Calico Jack gives Stede some aphrodisiac tea and leaves to shore with the rest of the Revenge crew, whoever can possibly help Stede with his unbridled horniness?

(It's Ed.)

Unnamed mutual noncon (Ed/Stede) by Dracothelizard [E], 686

This is a ficlet that ends before anything explicit occurs, and therefore before there's any chance to discuss and come to a true happy ending. There are a few other dubcon ficlets in this collection - sift through and proceed with attention to the chapter titles.

We Do Not Follow Maps to Buried Treasure by CartoonMayor (aka @zombee) [E], 5.6k

Stede is taking Ed on another treasure hunt to some supposed sea god's cave.

Things do not go as planned.

Let your yes be yes by emzash [E], 3.9k

Can’t we talk about this?” Stede asks, like there are any words that exist to solve this problem.

“What the fuck, no we can’t talk about it,” Ed says. “I need you. You’re here. Can we just get on with it?”

“You need me now,” Stede tells him. “But what about when your heat is over? What then?”

“You can leave me again straight after,” Ed says, refusing to let the hurt surface over the desperate need in his body. “Don’t worry Stede. I don’t expect anything else."

Do You Need Anybody by sinuous_curve [E], 4.6k

Heat catches Ed by surprise as a cramp that cuts him deep down in the pit of his belly.

Ed does not need a helping hand. Stede's offering anyway.

lord, my body has been a good friend by mtothedestiel [E], 4.6k

Stede is like a walking nest.

A Push, A Shove by LeatherCropTop [E], 25k

Stede was never particularly good at being an alpha. He thinks of himself as others always have, a worthless, incapable excuse for an alpha. After he meets Ed, that starts to change. The two of them fall in love, circling each other for days on end, but neither of them makes a move. Then Stede's behavior begins to change in a way like never before, unbeknownst to himself. The alpha instincts begin to trickle out until, like the flick of a switch, he suddenly goes feral.

Even for an alpha like Stede, turning feral is ravenous and being anywhere near them is dangerous, but the only way for a feral alpha to go back to normal is for them to mate and if the alpha doesn't mate in time, they will die. Ed isn't going to let Stede die.

who would trade that hum of night by CyborgShepard [E], 8.8k NOTE: not quite a fully happy ending, but not not

He’d thought the boy dead. Was glad for it, for a time, too. Murdering is one thing, but this — what’s happened to Spriggs now — it doesn’t sit right with Izzy.

He can imagine how he’d spluttered his thanks, wheezing up half the Atlantic like he was wringing a cloth, when Calabran’s lot fished him out of the water. He can imagine how Spriggs would’ve said it all, in that lilting, dour way. He might’ve demanded a blanket, or a berth, or water. Can imagine that he didn’t stay thankful for all too long after. 

It’s not sentiment, Izzy tells himself. 

release in sodomy (one sweet moment) by calicojackofficial [E], 3.3k NOTE: happy ending somewhat author's note reliant

The crew of the Revenge gets captured and during an interrogation attempt, Edward gets dosed with a sex pollen serum. That's not what they meant to do, so the guards lock Ed up with a bound and helpless Izzy. Izzy gets something he's always wanted but could never ask for. For as long as it lasts.

soft spot (for hard stuff) by bitethehands [E], 1.9k

“He’s much sweeter like this,” Stede is saying, even though Ed’s clearly not listening, “isn’t he?”

Ed has given him no indication of anything even marginally close to recognition in several minutes, now, because he’s been busy staring. Staring at Izzy, who so far doesn’t seem necessarily aware that Ed’s even here. It’d almost be normal, the strangeness of his being in Stede’s cabin aside. Except he’s naked and blushing from head to toe.

the promise of the joker and the fool by @thesoulundone [E], 7.1k

He's here, in a shitty little tavern, in a shitty little corner, drinking liquor that burns all the way down, stoking the fire he's already got burning in his belly. He's sitting on the other side of the table to Jack - Jack, who's got his arm slung casually around Izzy's shoulders. All Ed can think about, the persistent thudding pulse of his brain, is getting in between them.

Izzy. Izzy who's a fucking omega, revelation of the fucking year. Izzy, whose second heat aboard ship had been just as unpleasant as the first, who'd barely come out of it when they made port, whose dark-ringed eyes and stiff movement made Ed's fingers itch with the need to tear someone's throat out about it. Izzy, who's wearing a fucking collar now; shiny, good quality leather, wide and thick and cleverly made, though the craftsmanship doesn't do anything to disguise the fact that it's locked shut.

Let us know if you enjoyed this list! Did we skip your favorite tropey happily-ever-after dubcon? Chime in!

As always, please let the authors know that you enjoyed their fics with kudos and comments.

~Mod A

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Hey, Dances! Coming in hot!

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

(I really wanna know so I can start reading your stuff, your excerpt yesterday really enticed me!)

10. How do you decide what to write?

16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)?

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?

Don't wanna give you too much, so these four should be good! Nice running through your inbox, Dances!

Oh boy, so I have a few different things. Currently, a couple of longfics that are written from different characters and POVs (one in 1st, another in 3rd limited). A lot of my works tend to tiptoe around angst and might be heavy reads. If you want the lightest possible smack with the angst bat, Two of Swords or A Small Victory would probably be best. If you wanna go full-tilt on the angst bat with some idiot slow-burning forever, Broken Bird. This is the first-person POV fic that I'm writing. 10. If we're talking about creating new things, I don't generally get ideas I want to write all that often, or if I do, they go in my notes folder. From there, if I have the time, I pick something that's enticing or that I've been itching to read myself (or just wont leave me the hell alone) and go from there. As to deciding which of my ongoing projects to work on, it honestly depends on the headspace I'm in. I prioritize my longfics over any shorter pieces because I want to finish those. Ultimately, I decide based on what I feel like writing at that moment. 16. I once read an AU in which the events that started Dragon Age: Inquisition (i.e. the Conclave blowing up) never happened. While the fic itself didn't delve too far into that aspect and instead explored something else, I think it sets up a lot of "well what now?" types of scenarios. I'd also be incredibly interested in an AU in which one or more characters comes back from the dead, basically, but they come back...wrong somehow, and can't or won't articulate that to people around them. 33. My written chapter lengths have been anywhere from 2.7k to 8k, but generally I try to hit between 4-5k. Generally speaking, I prefer to read the same length (4-5k), however, if I'm enjoying the story enough, I will read almost any length. I just might need a break depending on the length.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

dostoyevsky quote that's like 'you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing' but he's talking about me deciding that i need to make the things i write longer even though i believe in the power of concision, but now i took a 5k work that was good and made it into an 8k+ work because i thought about how so many people write these complex multi-chapter works where their characters become really fleshed out and the works themselves begin to have their own lore beyond just being derived from the source material (we're all doing that because it's fanfiction of course, but you know what I mean, right? where people have 'reader' who seems like a real character and people become fans of a series, not just enjoyers of a singular piece). my favorite fic is still a single chapter collection of vignettes that chronicle a whole relationship arc but my second favorite fic is a 200k word (ongoing) fic that also chronicles a whole relationship. (totally opposites in terms of happy ending vs sad ending and linear vs non-linear). i feel like never penelope, always calypso is the closest i've gotten to something that i like and feels like me, stylistically, but now i've fucked myself over and given myself writers block and i just want to abandon ship because i feel like i've written too much and made the story no longer as powerful.

[ladyazulina]

Mimi: Wip Page

Status: Drafting (#4) [Hiatus]. Genres: Mystery, Mental Health, Overcoming. Project started: 06 | 06 | 2021 (apparently). Current word count: 24.4k [33.7k in the Spanish version]. Trigger Warnings: Abusive and Violent Environment, Panic and Anxiety Attacks, Intrusive and Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Depression, Car Accident (detailed mention), Death and Mourning, Loss of a Loved One, Suicide Attempts.

Title: Mimi

Subtitle: Surviving Dreams

Author: Lady Azulina

Synopsis

Mimi Milan doesn't have normal dreams, instead, she can dream with people she knows and discover their true faces, without filters. This is how she knows that no one is to be trusted because everyone always has ulterior motives, even her family.

But her dreams also have a dark secret. If she gets injured in them, her injuries remain on her body when she awakens and she has to deal with them regardless of severity.

When her dreams start to turn violent, can Mimi find a safe way out?

Writing Process

How it all started?

I have no idea.

No! For real. I know why it started, but how? I’m not really sure.

Okay, then.

WHY it all started?

I needed an outlet for all the toxic thoughts I was having, to overcome some bad habits to be free to work on my mental health (though I didn't know that part was coming at that moment), and I saw that an author –I don't even remember who was– said that their writing was a healing process.

And I thought, "Why can't be the same for me?".

It has been years since then, considering that I started the very first draft in March 2021, according to the date of the document I have.

[I need a parenthesis here to let you all know that my year starts on December 20th and finishes on December 19th, I don't track my years with the world year (like, 2023 right now) but my year (24 right now), so in my registers there will be two Decembers, one at the end of the year that goes from the 1st to the 19th, and the other starting the next year on the 20th and until the 31st.

Instead of using the world year (like 2021 before), I will be using my year (22 in that case), but I will do my best to also put the world date so we're on the same page 💙.]

I also found that the very first register (before then I just tracked some lousy, approximated words, and just since, like, three months prior) is from March 11, 2021, of 545 words. After that, it seems I started writing regularly (more on than off) since April (18.4k words, 12.5k in May, 11.8k in June, 26.5k in July, 2k in August, 9.5k in September, and 8.5k in December).

The details of the second draft say that I started it in December 2021, so pretty sure that 8.5k are from it. There is also proof that I started posting the story on Wattpad and Inkspired, I don't know which version (seems logical that the first one but who knows), in the same month.

During my 23 (December 20, 2021 - December 19, 2022), the monthly word count was like: 2.3k in December 2021, 7.6k in February, 6.8k in March, 5.7k in April, 8k in May, 2.2k in June, 4.9k in August, 8.7k in September, 15.3k in October, 19.7k in November, and 53 words in December. If it seems like this year I wrote way lower, it was because I was not only writing on Mimi and my word count limit suffered a decline due to my health. It's still pretty limited, but I continue writing anyway.

I also started the third draft in May 2022.

I have seen a lot of writers recommending finishing earlier drafts before going to the next, but, eh, I take recommendations with a grain of salt. I felt I had to stop where I did, so for that there are three unfinished drafts before I finally started having a neat process register.

Before starting the next (and current) draft, I did an outline, in October 2022 exactly (that was the 15.3k words). It contains twenty chapters with four major points each. It's not tight, I can add and remove, divide them at will, but that was everything I was able to think about, based on what I knew of the story from the three previous drafts, at that moment.

Then, in November 2022, with the NaNoWriMo main event, I started the fourth draft, with the started words that I shared above.

Now, in my year 24 (December 20, 2022 - December 19, 2023), the word count is going like: 3.7k in December 2022, 11.5k in January, 18.4k in February, 15.9k in March, and updating monthly.

As I told a bit earlier, I'm having a better, neat process register of my writing. I'm also devoted to this story as my main project until I finish it, but all those words aren't entirely for the main story; I'm also counting extra scenes, outside activities (like the ones from Tumblr), and whatever I add to my Details (worldbuilding, characters, etc) document.

Drafting Progress: around 23%.

Writing Schedule

What is this?

As I told above, the outline contains twenty (20) chapters with four (4) major points each, which are eighty (80) scenes, but as the writing goes on, I have been dividing some major points into a few more scenes, actually having eighty-eight (88) scenes and counting. Not really knowing my writing flow, I decided to try a weekly approach and see how it went, so I scheduled one scene a week starting on January 1st, 2023.

As I started the fourth draft right away in November, the first six weeks went by revising and editing the first six scenes. Then, the real work started.

To today day (May 15th, 2023), I got behind twice in my own schedule: in the 3rd Chapter, 2nd Major Point (scenes 16 and 17) for five days, and in the 4th Chapter, 2nd Major Point (scenes 21 and 22) for thirty-seven days (still counting).

Below you will be able to see the schedule, the original one had the last scene finishing on July 13th, 2024, but I changed the dates due to the last delay.

Schedule, Time Spent and Word Count

Working on: Chapter 4, Major Point 2 [22]

Scene with most words: Chapter 1, Major Point 3 [6]

Scene with fewer words: Chapter 1, Major Point 3 [5]

Scene that took the longest time: Chapter 3, Major Point 2 [16 - 17]

Scene that took the shorter time: Chapter 2, Major Point 1 [8]

Extra details, like chapters information and characters sheets, in the page.

Posting individual character sheets soon.