#who are the people who took care of him (and more or less adopted him) after the death of his parents

[cyellolemon]

Ambrose and Ruby, back then when Ruby was alive

[brainmuncher]

The emergency

A good number of members within the Justice League have children. Not all of those kids are biological or adopted but they are their kids nonetheless. Some of those kids are even old enough to be adult heroes of their own, but even then they are still their kids. And the other kids tend to take up heroism at a very young age to most people's chagrin. Although as shown by the original child hero, now going by Nightwing, it’s not as easy as telling the kids to stop.

It was learned through intense hardship that smothering the child heroes was just asking for trouble. Despite how much the older heroes wanted to stay close to their kids, it was seen as overbearing and a show of mistrust. They would act out with even less backup in retaliation, which would only bring even more stress.

So to satisfy the need for protection without stepping on any toes, two new emergency meeting signals were introduced.

One was for the kids to send off. Each one was gifted a small device that could be hidden in their person. The device had both a mic and a tracking chip that could be activated when they were in extreme danger. As soon as the device was active a signal would be sent to the league for an emergency distress signal with the details of who sent it. Due to an outcry from the kids, the device could not be activated by the guardian of the child. The mic and locator could only be activated from the device itself. It wasn���t nearly as protective as some of the more worried leaguers would like, but it was at least something. 

The second signal was one that the leaguer with a kid in danger could activate. This signal could be activated with a single code into the communicators that every member owned. If the member who sent out the signal didn’t specify what kid was in danger, every member would receive a generalized notification of the emergency alert for one of the kids. This wasn’t ideal, but it was learned early on that the guardian of the child was often too distressed to make the code more complicated. It was best to leave it simple and answer questions at the emergency meeting.

Which was great in all, until someone who doesn’t have a child involved with heroics in their care sends off a general emergency.

In places all over the globe, an emergency meeting signal message was sent by Hal Jordan, one of the lanterns. He didn’t include what child was in danger in the signal, meaning that it could be any of the underaged heroes. And considering he didn’t have a child in his care, that made multiple members panic.

When was the last time they checked in with the kids in their care? Who was the one he was sending the code for? What happened to the child he had noticed was in danger? Why is he the one that noticed? Where were their kids? Who was in danger?

Because of the nebulous nature of the call, it didn’t take long for multiple heroes to find the nearest transport to the watchtower and tumble in. What they didn’t expect was the absolute haggard appearance of their friend. He was standing in the meeting room looking like the world had been destroyed before his very eyes. The way he sat without even cracking a sarcastic remark made multiple members pause.

“Hal?” Wonder Woman called, her face pinched in concern. “What has happened?”

The aforementioned member looked over who had already arrived before settling on her face. It was at that moment she knew that he was only looking so collected through willpower alone. This wasn’t just any child of the league, this was personal.

“My nephew Danny has been captured,” He began, sending a wave of different emotions circling the room. “I’ve been trying to find where they took him for a week now and I can’t get any leads. I need your help.”

The unsaid questions and emotions were nearly palpable. Multiple members turned to one another or stared with a million questions. Nobody had known that Hal even had a nephew named Danny. Sure he mentioned someone named Jason at times, but he never indicated anything else. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned him or the fact that he’d been apparently searching for a week was strange.

“And why are you only telling us now? Why did you wait so long?” Superman asked, speaking up the question that was on multiple minds.

A fire of anger curled in Hal's eyes. It was fierce and protective. It was a mixture of appalment for being questioned on his decision and fury for the reasons why he had to do it in the first place. He stepped forward towards the center table, slamming his palms down and leaning into it.

“Because any person that goes against the group will be declared an enemy of the United States. I’ve already had my account and housing connected to Green Lantern seized,” He explained with a deceptively calm tone. “I also needed to make sure that they didn’t have any connections with the Justice League. They have their agents everywhere.”

Unsurprisingly, Batman appeared from the gathered heroes from seemingly nowhere. Despite the feud between the two of them, the Bat was completely zeroed in on the situation. While he had a decent amount of distrust in the lantern, mainly because of the parallax incident, he could tell that the man was genuine. And the Bat always did have a blind spot for children.

“Explain,” Was all Batman said, staring Hal down.

The lantern in question looked at him with a grim face. This was it. Now or never.

“They’re called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or GIW for short. They hunt down and either exterminate or experiment on anyone they deem ectocontaminated or a ghost,” Hal started to explain, his hand curling on the table in frustration. “My brother Jack faked his death and ran off to be with another woman. Those fucks deemed my nephew as ectocontaminated and tried to take him from his home. He ran from his family so that they couldn’t be arrested for knowingly harboring an ecto entity. Told me that he remembered my face from a photo his dad tried to hide in the attic and sought me out.”

If the fire in his eyes were any stronger, they would probably become physical and burn down the room. It was undeniable that Hal Jordan was understandably completely pissed off. This situation was terrible from down to the very root.

“I tried to hide him but they somehow found him anyway. Now my civilian name is being heavily monitored and Green Lantern is being hunted down,” He finished his explanation. “If you join me in this, be prepared to lose everything.”

This was so much worse than anyone could’ve predicted.

[megaderping]

I feel like when people compare Akechi to Light Yagami, they fundamentally misunderstand his character. Their similarities really end at their designs, and Light is the kind of person Akechi would despise. Light Yagami lives a pretty privileged life at the start of Death Note. He has a stable home, with two parents and a sister who care about him. He's a successful student. There isn't really inherent tragedy to his life. The whole reason he starts using the Death Note is a mix of curiosity and a jaded worldview, and when it works it empowers him, very quickly goes to his head, as he believes he is one who can be a god of a "new world" once the shock of his initial kills wears off. While his first kill was to help someone, that altruism didn't last. He is in charge of his choices, while Ryuk mostly vibes and maybe eggs him on a little. Fundamentally, Light has something Akechi lacks: agency, and a comfortable life he took for granted. Meanwhile, Akechi is someone who lived on the bottom rung of Japanese society. His very existence is shameful there, between his mother being a sex worker, his status as an illegitimate/"throw away" child, and his mother's suicide. Years languishing in a foster system that is notoriously inhumane, in a country where 90% of the adoptions are grown men for inheritance and patriarchal reasons, while very few children in the system find permanent homes. When Akechi awakens his power, he approaches Shido not because he wants to kill people but for a stupid revenge plan cooked up by a traumatized child who's been nudged along by a malevolent god. He wants to build Shido up so that at the height of his power, he can expose him for the monster he really is, while another part of him genuinely wants to be useful to Shido, as Cogkechi later calls out. His feelings are a mess of contradictions, and so it's no surprise that Shido was able to mold him into his assassin at only 15 years old. It's also worth noting that Akechi only approaches Shido with his ability to cause psychotic breakdowns. Shido is the one who teaches and instructs him to do shutdowns. He's still complicit, very sunk cost with his revenge plan, but as I spoke of here, even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't alone. Shido's cleaner and control of the law and ability to effortlessly turn him in would render the Metaverse his only safe haven. I think people look at 11/20 Akechi and Akechi in the early parts of the engine room and assume that's just his "true self," when in reality it's another mask. Royal makes it very clear because in Rank 7, he outright warns Joker of what's to come via a pool metaphor and offers an out (though he's MUCH happier if you don't take it/stick to your principles), and in Rank 8, he goes on that big "I hate you" speech... while Sunset Bridge is playing. Y'know, the song that plays at the end of most confidants to reaffirm bonds. So when he smiles as he shoots what he assumes to be Joker, that doesn't mean he's genuinely happy. More likely, he's an emotional clusterfuck, given he also is disoriented enough to namedrop "Shido-san" over the phone, and in the subsequent meeting with Shido, tells him not to kill the Phantom Thieves and that Morgana is "just a cat." Yes, he says they'll make them fear for the rest of their lives, but remember, he's talking to Shido. The things he says are likely all incredibly calculated to sound appealing to Shido. And when you consider that he planned to utterly destroy Shido's reputation after the election, the "delay" makes even more sense.

Later, Akechi goes on about how the people he induced shutdowns on were deserving of their fates, but I don't think he believes it so much as it's the only way he could convince himself that it was worth it, and given how much society failed him, and given how many of the people he targeted were likely rivals/competitors or rich fucks, I think he'd be less inclined to assume good faith. Kunikazu Okumura was not an innocent little victim, after all. He was one of the people who requested breakdowns and shutdowns the most. I think Akechi enjoyed killing him not because of how it'd hurt Haru, but because of catharsis. Because Okumura is just as monstrous as Shido, so why should he feel remorse? However, I don't believe he feels the same about Wakaba, as when he discusses her with Shido, he mentions how her fate was because she refused to willingly work for him. It's another justification, but I personally think Wakaba's death was the most painful for him because he was effectively making Futaba just like him. That's why I think his reaction to Sae threatening Sojiro's custody was genuine. Anyway, evil grinning Akechi is just another mask, as I said. Keep in mind, this is someone who laments not meeting Joker years ago, someone who Morgana outright points out is lying about his hatred. And that's the thing. Light Yagami, while a really fascinating character, is not someone who had all this childhood suffering or lack of agency. He does not regret his actions in the slightest and goes down due to his own hubris in both the anime and the manga. While you can argue that Ryuk set him up by dropping the Death Note, Light was the one who picked it up and chose to use it. Any nudging from Ryuk didn't coerce Light into doing it because Light seized the opportunity. No, if Light Yagami is like anyone in Persona 5, it's Masayoshi Shido, not Goro Akechi. Both believe they are god/god's chosen, that they are the ones who will reshape the world to their ideals, and to be frank, both use and abuse women to serve their own purposes. Goro Akechi goes down sacrificing himself for the Thieves and pleading with them to stop his father and again in Maruki's reality when he refuses to let Joker accept a gilded prison of a world for his sake when he knows better than anyone what it's like to have no true freedom. If you max his confidant, you see him in the postcredits, leaving his survival entirely possible, and I think it works because at the end of the day, Akechi was meant to be a victim and a foil. Light is a villain protagonist and a cautionary tale. Though its his POV we follow, he isn't someone we're meant to root for, but I definitely don't think enjoying the character is a bad thing at all. He's really interesting! I just think that a lot of the Akechi and Light comparisons are surface level at best.

[traumawhomst]

Ok but adoptive Fae King Dad rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken.

(800 words)

At first he thought you were a perfect chance to teach some humans a lesson. Letting a child walk alone in woods where Fae were known to live? Someone was going to learn sooner or later.

He stood dramatically waiting for your attention, ready to launch into a full lecture about how because of your neglectful parents he was going to turn you into some yet undecided woodland creature.

But you surprise him, you’re smart enough to know the potential trouble you’re in but also openly curious about him.

He’s always been a bit vain so when you start asking questions about him, his clothes and his magic, he can’t help himself from giving all the answers you wish.

Before he’s realized it, it’s been an afternoon and you’re politely requesting his help in bringing you home.

All plans of turning you into a bird or a squirrel are forgotten as he walks you to the forest’s edge warning you of the dangers of his domain.

He watches you make your way back to the hovel you call a home and he is already deciding in which wing of his palace you’ll be staying in.

You’re not the first child he’s taken an interest in, you have a few siblings at home you’ve yet to meet. None of which are surprised when their father comes home in a whirlwind already barking orders to his staff about getting rooms ready, clothes made and a ball to formally introduce you to his court as his youngest child.

He’s surprised when you willingly come back to his forest, sure that your parents would forbid it after you’d told them about Him, already four steps deep into a plan on how he was going to lure you back. But now he sees a much simpler path forward.

You started to come to the forest nearly daily and you talk and explore with him for hours at a time. It became a comfortable and solid routine, and you trusted if you came he would be there.

He immediately can tell how starved for attention you are, happily rambling about whatever you wished as you and Him walked together in his forest. The perfect foundation to build his plan on.

One day while you two are relaxing in the forest, you make mention of his more unnatural features, his horns, his wings, his teeth, with a tiny hint of jealousy.

He casually brings up his other children, talking about how they were once human, but now were fully Fae like him. A simple transformation, really. He says pretending not to notice the hunger that grows in your eyes.

He loves to compliment you, about how brave, smart and curious you were. He’d often go on about how proud your family must be of you. How they must’ve showered you in praise. Of course he’s not surprised when you nod and smile along, the smile not reaching your eyes.

He knows that it’s almost time when you bring up his other children, asking about what they were like. Watching you pretend not to care about the answer made him want to forget all his plans and take you home then. But he did not become King through rushed action.

So he talks about them and he’s unable to contain his joy and love when he does. All of them unique and interesting each he loved more than the world its self. He explained how all of his children chose to be with him. All from less than perfect homes, all who saw the life he offered and took it.

Then you and your parents have a fight, you’re spending too much time alone in the forest and now people are gossiping about your family.

Even at your young age, you know that the fact that they care more about people’s gossip than your safety and it escalates to a huge mess. Your parents forbid you from ever going to the forest again and it’s your breaking point.

That night you sneak out running to the forest as quick as possible, and as always he is waiting for you with open arms. He holds you as you cry, everything coming out about how your parents never cared and how you wished to have a parent like him.

Your face is buried in his shirt and so you don’t see the smile that slowly grows over his face. He gently calms you down and says how happy he’d be to have a child like you. And if you wanted, you could become as much of a Fae as he. You even get a family as a bonus.

How could you ever say no?

[jpmarvel90]

Don't Belong pt 1

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Word Count: 8392

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n is the adopted daughter of Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. However, when science enables her mother's to have twin boys who are biogloically both of their's, her relationship slowly changes. At 17 she's ready to move out and move on, is it too late for her moms to fix things?

Y/n's POV:

When I was 6, my life was saved by none other than the Black Widow. She came in like the hero she is and saved me from the hell that was Hydra. Whilst helping me to acclimatise to normal life, we grew close, and she was a mother figure I never had. I was so shocked when she told me that she wanted to adopt me.

It was everything that I could ever ask for. She was an amazing mom. Caring, loving and always there for me. She had this soft side that not many people got to see. To the world, and a lot of the team, she had this tough, steely exterior. But I never saw that. Not from the moment she found me. I always felt safe and loved around her.

A couple of years later, Wanda joined the team and soon enough, Mama fell in love. I never saw mama so happy. They had the perfect relationship and Wanda took me on without a second thought. When I was 9, she adopted me, and I had two loving parents.

We had quite a domestic life. Tony built us a separate suite at the compound so we could still be close by for when they were needed for missions. I loved having parents that were heroes. I was so proud of them. I ended up spending quite a bit of time with Pepper when they were on missions together, but when they came home, they always had a couple of days off to spend time with me to make up for being away. It was great.

Watching them make a difference in the world, was the reason I joined the SHIELD Young Initiative Programme. I wanted to be just like my moms. Steve became a huge support to me, and alongside him and mama, I was acing all my practicals and exams.

But before that, when I was 11, our family grew. With the help of Bruce and Tony, Mom got pregnant with twins, both biologically hers and mamas. Billy and Tommy made our family complete.

As soon as Mom got pregnant, Mama told Fury that she wouldn't be going on missions once mom got into her third trimester and that after the birth they both would be taking maternity leave. She also told him that they would only ever be sent on a mission together if it was to save the world. Otherwise, under no circumstances were they to go together. They wanted to be around for the twins as much as possible and didn't want them left on their own if they had to go on missions together.

For the first couple of years, everything was perfect. But when they became toddlers, they were a bit of a handful. It meant that mom's focus went to them and slowly I became less of a priority for them.

I found it hard as I was coming into my teenage years, and I felt like I needed my moms more than ever. But I understood at the start. I was old enough that I could look after myself and the twins needed more. But it got harder when every time I tried to talk to one of them, I was brushed off, or told to speak to them later. But later never came.

Once I hit 13, I was their personal babysitter whenever they needed it. Mama told me how they were trying to make sure that her and mom still had quality time together, so had a date night or day each week. Seems they forgot about quality time with their daughter. It got to the point I was expected to drop everything to be there for my brothers. Picking them up at school, taking them to soccer. It didn't matter what I had planned, I was expected to do my job for the family. I did it without complaining, because I thought if I could prove that I was a good sister, maybe they would start to acknowledge me more.

To try and prove myself worthy, I worked even harder for SHIELD. However, now I lost mama as my training partner. She was too busy with work or the twins to help me train. It hurt when she told me that but, thankfully, Steve stepped up more than he had. He became like a father to me. I could confide in him when my moms didn't have time. Though there were still things that I couldn't talk to him about.

Now I'm 17, working towards graduating the youth programme and into SHEILD as an official agent. We have our final exams coming up and I'm doing everything I can to be ready for them. The top two initiates will get fast tracked through the system and be able to go on missions sooner.

I want nothing more than getting that chance. I need to start making a name for myself and to stop being under my mothers' shadow. Once I wanted to be just like them, to make them proud. But now I know that's not possible. They have their perfect biological family. I was just the stray they took pity on.

"You know, you could take it easy today. You're more than capable of passing these exams even on a bad day. You'll be finishing top of the class and joining us for missions in no time." Steve tells me as he holds the punch bag for me. "I just want to be on top of my game." I tell him, hitting the bag as precisely as I could.

"Have you told your moms about the date for your final practical. I'm sure they'll want to be around when you get home." He asks, making me falter with my hits. "I did, but I don't think they were listening. Although they seemed to acknowledge it, Billy was showing them his Lego at the time." I share with him.

Steve knows what's been happening with my moms and the only reason he hasn't done anything is because I made him promise not to. All I need to do is graduate and then I can get moved into the SHIELD facility and start a new life without being a burden on my family.

"You know, you should talk to them. I know you've tried, but really sit them down and tell them how you're feeling." He tries once again. "It's been years now. If they really cared for me, they would notice that they barely see me anymore. I don't even remember the last time they said I love you." I respond, my hits getting harder.

"Ok, I'm calling this. You'll hurt yourself and then you won't even be able to complete your exams." Steve tells me, stepping between me and the bag. I sigh but know he's right. "Just try for me ok. Maybe after your exams. They'll be so proud of you." He pleads. "Ok, fine." I agree. "Now go shower kiddo. You stink!" He teases me before dodging a punch I try to land on his arm.

I smile as I head up to my room. As I walk into our apartment, I see the happy family sat together watching TV. "Hi moms." I call out when I enter. They don't even turn around, so I call out again, only to get the same response. I decide to go and join them but as soon as I sit down, I'm scolded by mom. "Y/n do you have to come in here like that. Go and shower will you." She tells me off. I look to mama who doesn't even glance in my direction. "Sorry, I was training for my final exam." I explain but once again, nothing. I let out a small humourless chuckle to myself as I leave the living room. Every day, I feel more and more like I don't belong here anymore.

__________

I did it! I actually passed! Not only did I pass, I topped the class. I think I even saw Fury smile. I'm so happy, nothing can burst my bubble right now. As a class, we all decide that we're going to celebrate tonight. We've been a tight group and it'll be nice to actually spend time together without having to study or practice.

I practically run back to the compound, smiling ear to ear. "Someone's happy." Steve calls out to me as I rush through the kitchen. "Someone might be your partner one day!" I call out as I keep on towards my destination of finding my parents. "Can't wait kiddo. Well done! Knew you could do it!" Steve shouts after me.

"Y/n, don't run!" Mama scolds me as I find them in the living room. "Sorry, but I have to tell you something that I know you'll want to hear." I apologise with a smile on my face. "Not now Y/n. We're about to head out. The boys just need dinner and don't let them stay up late." She tells me. That's when I notice that she's dressed up in her best jacket.

"I can't look after the twins tonight. Our class are going to celebrate." I explain, hoping she might ask why we're celebrating. But that would be wishful thinking. "Time with your friends can wait Y/n." She tells me without even looking up at me, too focused on her phone. "Can't one of the others watch them. Just for tonight. I've never asked before. But just this once. Please." I practically beg, but to no use. "Stop being selfish and just watch the boys." She snaps, making a lump form in my throat.

"Fine." I mumble, leaving the room and head out of our apartment. "Where are you going?" She calls after me. "To see Steve. Don't worry, I'll be back to watch your precious boys." I talk back whilst leaving, hearing her call after me.

I make my way to find Steve. I know he'll be excited with my results. I wipe at my eyes for the few traitorous tears that fell. "So, I hear someone will be an Avenger in no time." Tony says as I walk into the kitchen. "I think I'll stick with SHIELD." I respond. I have no desire to be a full time Avenger. I'll be around to see my moms live their perfect life without me.

"I'm proud of you kiddo." Steve smiles at me, pulling me into a hug. "Thanks, old man. I couldn't have done it without you." I tell him truthfully, squeezing him tighter. "Your mom's must be proud. Especially Nat. Now's the time for celebrating." Pepper says. "Oh, I'm babysitting the boys tonight." I respond, trying to hide my disappointment. I notice that all others share a look.

They have all noticed how my relationship has changed with my moms, but thankfully, never brought it up. "We could watch them. Let you go out with your class. I know how much you've been looking forward to it." Pepper offers kindly. "Thanks, but mama said it had to be me." I reply. "Sorry kiddo." Steve says, wrapping his arms around me. "It's ok. I better go back before I get into trouble. I just wanted to tell you all about the results." I tell them.

"Of course Y/n. We're so proud of you. I can't wait to work with you." Tony pats me on the shoulder, whilst the others all give me a hug. "We'll do something together tomorrow." Steve promises and I nod. "I'd like that." I reply, taking a deep breath before heading back home.

When I get back to the apartment, both mom and mama are waiting to go. "Good, you're back. We'll be home late." Mom tells me, turning to leave. "And we'll talk about your attitude in the morning." Mama adds on with a stern look before turning to leave. "I love you." I call out after them. No response. My head drops. I really have just become the live in nanny.

_________

The next day, I didn't have to face my moms in the morning. They had taken the boys to the park and out for breakfast. I didn't even get an invite. But thankfully, Steve is taking me for dinner tonight to celebrate the passing of my exams and my imminent graduation.

He's taken me to my favourite Italian restaurant. It's nice to have this time. Steve really has been the only parent I've had recently. I'm so grateful for him. "So your moms don't know?" Steve asks as I tell him that I've been told I can move into SHIELD accommodation in a few days. "I've tried, but as usual, I barely have a conversation with them anymore. They probably wouldn't even notice that I've gone." I admit the painful truth. "Do you think they even still love me?" I ask the question that has been haunting me for a long time now.

Steve looks at me with a sympathetic look. He reaches out and takes my hand. "Oh Y/n. I'm sure they do. They just got lost in the boys and have forgot, that even though you're a teenager, you still need them." He tries to defend them. "If you say so." I mumble, not believing him.

"Well, I have something that might cheer you up." Steve says, changing the subject. "Oh yeah, and what might that be Captain?" I ask with a smirk, making him roll his eyes. "I spoke with Fury, and he already has a mission for you. It's nothing too big, a simple in and out to get some data." Steve explains, making a smile grow on my face. "Really? Me on a mission already?" I question and he nods. "Fury would have had you on them earlier. You've been the best recruit the programme has seen. But he had to follow protocol. There is one downside though." He shares. "Oh God, don't tell me it's with my mother?" I ask making him laugh. "No, just this old man." He responds. "Really? I'm going with you?" I ask excitedly. "Yeah, you don't need me. But I wanted to see you in action on your first mission. I really am proud of you kiddo. I'm glad that I've had a front row seat to seeing you become the woman you have." He expresses honestly, taking me off guard.

The rest of dinner is lovely, and I have a really nice time. It's nice to actually have someone care about your achievements. However, that happiness soon disappears when I enter the apartment to two angry moms. "Where do you think you've been? You've not been answering your phone." Mama yells at me. I reach into my pocket and see that my phone is dead.

"Sorry, my cell died." I tell her, but that doesn't help. "So, are you going to share where you were without telling us? It's 10pm Y/n!" Mom now joins in. "I was having dinner with Steve." I share. "Until this late. Why would you be going out for dinner on a school night? Why didn't he ask us first?" Mama questions me.

"We went out to celebrate when I missed going with my class. And it's not a school night. The programme has finished now." I tell them, trying to keep my cool. "Is this about that party you couldn't go to last night?" Mom asks. "No, actually, it was having someone to celebrate with that I finished top of my class and am now officially a SHIELD agent!" I snap back, taking them both by surprise.

"You've had your final exams already?" Mom asks, stepping closer but I pull away. "Yeah, I have told you on a number of occasions. But apparently you don't listen to me anymore." I admit, feeling tears building. "You finished top?" Mama says proudly, but I just scoff. Her pride is too late. "Like you even care." I growl. "Don't talk to your mother like that." Mom tells me off.

"Like what? You haven't given me the time of day in years. Why do you suddenly care that I was out late. Was I not around to be your personal babysitter? Or were you just annoyed I wasn't there for the one time you noticed I wasn't around." I call them both out taking them by surprise.

"Y/n it was one night." Mom tries to deny more calmly. "No, it wasn't. It's always the twins this, the twins that. I have to make allowances for them in my life and stop what I'm doing to be there to babysit them. When was the last time that you spent any time with me? When did you last tell me you love me or even acknowledge me?" I shout, tears falling down my cheeks, as my parents stand staring at me in shock.

"I have worked my ass off with SHIELD so I can get in and earn my spot with them. Where I can have my own place and start a life for myself. Because I clearly haven't been a part of this family for a long time." I share how I've been feeling. I notice that both their eyes tear up. "Oh Y/n, sweetheart, that's not the case. Of course you belong." Mama tries to argue, moving closer with a shaky hand out in front of her. I don't reach out. In fact, I move away. "Well neither of your actions have shown it in the last few years." I point out, making mom cry harder. "Look it's fine. I get it. I'm not your biological child. Billy and Tommy are. I'll always be grateful for you saving me from Hydra, but you've got your family now. Don't worry, I'll be gone in a couple of days." I say sadly before heading to my room, my moms frozen in shock in their spot.

I slam the door shut behind me, locking it and falling onto my bed. I bury my head into the pillow and sob. All the emotions I've been bottling up come out. My whole body wracks with each sob as I realise, it's official. I really have lost my family now.

Nat's POV:

I feel the tears slowly falling down my cheeks as I realise that my daughter stood before me as a broken girl who thinks her moms don't love her anymore. By the time I come to my senses, Y/n is already gone, and I'm left facing my wife who is sobbing. "Have we really been putting the boys first so much she thinks that we don't want her anymore?" I say at a whisper, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"It's my fault. Things changed when I came into the picture, and we started trying for our own babies. We didn't even consider how that must have made her feel. We didn't even reassure her that we would still love her just as much, regardless of if the boys were ours biologically or not." Wanda responds.

I quickly move forward and wrap my arms around her. "It's not your fault my love. We both wanted that. Our lives are significantly better with you in them Wanda. But you're right. We should have tried harder to make sure we involved Y/n and showed her will still love her." I comfort her.

I can't believe that I've let Y/n get to this point. The day I found her in that cell, she changed my life for the better. She not only made me a mother, but she made me more human. She made me see there was more than being an Avenger. She is the reason that I who I am today. Yet I've neglected her. I got so focused on the twins that I didn't even notice how little I have seen Y/n.

"We should go and talk to her." I suggest whilst Wanda still clings to me. "She was angry. We should give her some space. Let's take her for breakfast in the morning. I'll ask Pepper to watch the boys and we can start to make this right." She counters. "But..." I start, not wanting to leave this longer than we have to. "This is our daughter we're talking about. She has your temper." Wanda tearily chuckles. "Hey!" I poorly defend. She's right though. She might not be biologically mine, but she is my mini me.

That night I don't sleep. All I can think of is every time that I blew Y/n off and decided to spend time with the twins instead. When did we stop doing things as a family? I try and think of the last time I trained with her or helped her prepare for her exams. God, how did I not even know she was taking them this week?! "Your thoughts are loud Detka." Wanda mumbles sleepily as she turns over to look at me. When she sees the distress on my face, she gives me a sympathetic smile. "She has worked so hard, and we didn't even know she was completing her final exams. She told us yet neither of us remembered or even heard her apparently. We are awful moms!" I sigh.

Wanda moves and pulls me into her embrace. "I know. I feel awful too. I'm so proud of her though. She finished top. She's just like you." She shares. "She's moving out." I realise whilst Wanda just looks at me confused. "What do you mean?" She questions. "She said she would be gone in a few days. She must have been assigned a room at SHIELD. Our little girl was ready to leave the nest and we didn't even know." I respond, another wave of sadness washing over me.

"We'll talk to her and make her see that she is still very much wanted here. If she still wants to move out that's fine, but she has to know that we love her and always have. We can't change the past but we sure as hell can make sure we change the future and how see feels." She says determined.

Neither of us really sleep. I think we regret not talking to her last night. But our tiredness soon takes over and we get some much need kip. It definitely won't do any of us favours when we talk to Y/n in the morning. She won't make it easy on us and I don't want to snap because I'm too tired.

When we eventually get up, we check on the boys and I go to ask Pepper if she would mind watching the boys. "Is Y/n not available?" Pepper asks with a humourless chuckle. "What? No, we're going to take her to breakfast." I respond, surprised at the bite to her tone. She hums in surprise. "I'll take the boys. Make sure you treat that girl. She definitely deserves it." She tells me firmly. I nod and thank her before going to get the boys.

"Everything ok?" Wanda asks me when I take Billy from her. "Whilst we've been failing to notice Y/n, I think everyone else has noticed our behaviour. It's very frosty down there." I tell her and she nods sadly. I guess we can't expect anything less.

It makes me wonder what could have happened if we didn't have everyone else around. They have clearly been supportive to her and been there when Wanda and I should have. What if she didn't have that support, would she have even still been with us?

Shaking off the thought, Wanda and I take the boys to the compound living room, where we receive a number of glares from the team that were there. Thankfully, nothing is said, but my guilt keeps on growing.

With the boys sorted, I take Wanda's hand and we head to Y/n's room. I take a deep breath and knock on the door. We wait anxiously but get no response. I try again, calling out to her this time. "Y/n, honey. Can we come in?" I ask, but once again, we're met by silence.

I look to Wanda who's got a concerned look on her face. "Sweetheart, we're going to come in now." Wanda speaks up and pushes down on the door handle. I'm surprised when it opens but that is soon replaced by shock when I see her room practically empty. There are a couple of boxes with her stuff in, but most of her clothes have gone.

I let go of Wanda's hand and quickly move into the ensuite to see if she's in there, but I'm met by more empty cabinets. Panic builds within me to know that she's gone. "Where is she?" Wanda asks as stands by the chest of draws, picking up photos that had been turned upside. She lets out a muffled sob when she sees they're our family photos. What have we done to our daughter.

"She's probably asked Fury if she could move sooner. Considering how much he loves her, I'm sure he would have done anything to get her in as soon as possible." I respond, letting out a sigh. "But she's only 17. She's still a kid." Wanda argues. "I know babe. But when she signed up, it was part of the contract that I signed as her parent. Besides, she turns 18 next week and we'd have no say anyway." I admit.

"Shit, is it already her birthday? We've done nothing to prepare for that. In fact, I'm sure we both forgot." Wanda exhales, running her hands through her hair, whilst I made sure all the photos were back upright. Though, I notice our last family photo was back when Y/n was just 15. We've got hundreds of photos with the twins, but it's been over two years since we've had a complete family photo.

Wanting to know that Y/n is ok, I grab my phone out and hit Fury's number. It rings out and I let out a sigh before trying Maria. "Romanoff." She greets me. "Hill, I was wondering if you could tell me if Y/n has moved into her room yet and if so where she's been placed. Wanda and I want to surprise her." I try my luck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n has asked that we don't disclose her room location at the moment. She has been allowed early move in, so will be in a position to share once the other agents are moving." Hill responds. "Please, Maria, I'm asking you as a friend. We really need to see Y/n." I plead, hoping she'll have sympathy on me. "And I'm telling you as a friend that how you treated your own daughter is unacceptable. Do you know why she was the best cadet to come through?" She calls me out. "No." I respond in a whisper. "Initially it was because she was trying to be just like her hero mothers. But she got even better when she was fighting to make her own name for herself to start her life over. I watched her personality change to become guarded and her walls built high. That's what you did to her Nat." She scolds me through the phone.

"I know Maria. We have fucked up more than we thought possible and we're trying to make this right. We can't do that if we can't even speak with her." I counter. "This isn't something you can just fix with a talk and a hug. This is years of you slowly neglecting her. Pushing yourself onto her is not going to help with that." Maria warns me. I know she's right. We'll end up pushing Y/n away if we're not careful. But I also know that I can't wait to fix this. I want my baby girl to know how much I love her. Despite my inability to show her these last few years.

Wanda and I spend the day trying to get any information on where Y/n might be. We get a lot of cold shoulders, and our questions often go answered. I even spend time hanging around the Shield accommodation to see if I can catch a glimpse of her. My lucks not in and I return home deflated.

When I walk through the door, a smile forms on my face as I see Wanda giving the boys dinner. "Any luck?" She asks. I just shake my head. "We'll find her." She says confidently. "When was the last time we had dinner with Y/n?" I ask, looking to Wanda who's looking at me sympathetically. "Detka, you are punishing yourself by think that." She scolds me lightly. "It's true though. She asked when we last said I love you to her. I've been trying to think, and I don't remember. How can a mother not remember when they last said I love you to their child. Have we really subconsciously disregarded her because she isn't biologically ours?" I share my thoughts, tears falling freely down my face.

Wanda quickly moves from the table, leaving the boys to carry on talking about the latest Nintendo game they're playing. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in close. "We let ourselves get lost in the boys. They were a handful and we were blessed with a daughter who was selfless and caring. Subconsciously, we took advantage of that. But that changes now ok." She responds as I nod in the crock of her neck. We really need to fix this.

__________

It's been a few days and we've still had no luck in seeing Y/n. Wanda and I decided to go to Shield to talk to Fury today, whilst the boys were in school. I head straight to his office, knocking twice before heading in, not caring if he's busy. "Romanoff, Maximoff. What can I do for you?" He asks, moving his gaze from the laptop in front of him.

"It's been long enough now Fury. The other agents have started moving in and Y/n is still only 17, so tell us where she is staying." I demand, my tone harsh. "I can give you her room allocation, but she's not there." Fury responds, just angering me more. "Then where the hell is she?!" I shout, only calming down when I feel Wanda squeeze my hand. "She's on a mission. She'll back tomorrow." He responds nonchalantly.

"A mission? She's 17 Fury! How is she already going on a mission?!" Wanda responds before I even manage to direct my own anger into words. "She is almost 18 and finished top of her class. You knew that was a possibility when you signed her up Romanoff. She has the potential to be the best agent we've seen. She is ready." Fury retorts, but I'm still not happy. "She's just a kid, she could get hurt." I growl, worry taking over me.

"Natasha, she is far from the kid you think she is. If you still trained with her, you'd see that she can almost beat Steve in hand to hand combat and her weapons skill matches your own, if not better in some instances." He points out and I realise how little I actually know my daughter right now. "Look, I'll keep you posted when she's back." Fury concedes after a moment silence.

"Thank you. Is she on her own?" I ask but he shakes his head. "Steve went to be on comms." He replies and that puts my mind at ease a little. He loves her like his own, he'll do everything that he can to protect her. "Ok. Thank you." I say, taking Wanda's hand a heading home.

"We've missed so much Nat. Y/n used to tell us everything about her training and classes. We've created an environment where she doesn't feel like she can share with us anymore. She was probably so excited to get a chance on her first mission. But instead of us being with her and making sure she's prepared, we didn't even know she had gone." Wanda agonises.

"I'm worried that we may not be able to fix this. If her walls have gone up, they'll be near impossible to knock them down." I sigh. "You had walls once. What helped you to let them down?" Wanda asks. "Y/n." I respond, my gaze dropping to my hands. "Then we find away to be the same for her." Wanda tries to comfort me. But how can the people that caused her this pain, be the ones to pull her through.

The next morning is quiet whilst we get the boys ready for school. They asked this morning where Y/n was and that they missed her. It broke my heart. Because of our actions, not only is Y/n feeling alone, isolated, and not part of this family, but her brother might lose the chance of having their sister in their lives.

When we get home, we end up just sat waiting for any news that Y/n is on her way home so we can greet her. I want to be able to hear all about how her first mission went and actually be apart of something so special to her. I may not have shown it, but I've always been proud of her. She is talented and I loved training with her. I had always planned to join her again once the twins were old enough. But I didn't and it seems that I have missed out on so much.

Whilst I'm preparing lunch, I hear Friday's alarm go off and my ears tune in. "Emergency medical team to the landing bay. Emergency medical team to the landing bay." I don't even think before I'm dropping the knife onto the countertop. I go to call for Wanda, but she rushes in from the bedroom. "Something's wrong with Jess. I can feel it." She says worriedly. "Let's go." I say, taking her hand and rushing through the compound to get to the landing bay.

Cho is waiting, along with a nursing staff. "Is it Y/n?" I ask as we come to a halt next to her. It feels like an age before she responds. A small nod of the head breaks my heart. "H-how bad?" Wanda asks, a tremble to her voice. "Steve confirmed a gunshot wound. She's lost a lot of blood." She responds. I run my hand through my hair, my stomach in knots.

It feels like the world around me has become muffled. I don't hear the orders that Cho is giving her team. Had I been able to, maybe I would have known more about her condition. My chest feels tight at the thought of her being hurt and the chance that she might not make it.

It's not until a pair of hands cup my face, that I zone back into the environment around me. "Breathe for me baby." Wanda's shaking voice tries to calm me. But the complete fear in her own eyes doesn't do much to help. We're facing losing our daughter and she doubts the depths of our love for her.

I do my best to bring myself out of this panic attack. I can't be a broken version of myself. My wife and family need me more than ever. If I can't pull through now, I'm not worthy to be a mother. "That's it detka. Deep breathes." Wanda guides me. I take one more deep breath and stand straighter. This isn't about me.

I can see a frown on Wanda's face form as she sees me put up my own walls. I know that she hates when I do this, but it's the only way I know how to get through what's about to happen without completely breaking down.

It's not long until the QuinJet comes into sight and slowly starts to descend on to the landing pad. I feel like I'm holding my breath as we wait for the ramp to lower, and we can see how bad this is. My heart is thumping against my chest as it begins to lower, and I see Steve's face first.

Cho and her team move forward, a bed waiting, whilst Wanda and I hold back. I want to be by her side straight away, but I also know that we'll just be a hinderance to her care if we insist on being with her.

When we get a full view of Steve, I hear Wanda let out a sob beside me. He's holding our unconscious daughter in his arms. His own suit is covered in blood and my eyes instantly land on the blooded dressing on her stomach. "I tried to staunch the bleeding as best I could. But it just kept coming." Steve explains. I've never seen him so shaken up before.

He places Y/n on the hospital bed and moves out the way, before staring at his bloodied hands. Cho doesn't wait before rushing Y/n off to the medical bay, the three of us closely following behind.

"Is she going to be ok?" I ask as they start to get to work. But before she has a chance to respond, the machines start to go crazy and they move even faster to help my daughter.  "I can't answer that right now Agent Romanoff. I need to focus on Y/n, but I promise I'll keep you updated." Cho says, her polite way of telling us to leave. I'm reluctant, knowing that in this moment, Y/n is on the verge of life or death. But with a subtle tug of my hand from Wanda, I follow to watch through the window outside.

My gaze doesn't leave my daughter as I watch over as the team work to save her life. I don't notice that another person has joined us until I hear a bang from behind me. My head shoots around where I see Steve pinning Fury to the wall. "You told us it was empty! That all she needed was to get to the drive and out again." Steve growls at Fury who's holding his hand up in surrender. "I know." He responds, but Steve isn't happy when he slams him against the wall again.

"Then why the hell is she led in that hospital fighting for her life. There was a whole guard waiting for her!" Steve yells. This information makes the anger inside me grow. "You sent her into an ambush?!" I join in now, furious that he has put my daughter in danger.

"I didn't know! I'm as surprised as you are." Fury tries to explain, but Steve isn't letting up. "Talk!" Steve spits. "I had an agent scout the base for two weeks! Every report was how there was no activity. I would never have sent her had I know there was any more risk. It was supposed to be an easy mission for her first." Fury explains.

I can see the honesty in his eyes, and I know Steve does too. Fury has been like family to Y/n and I do trust he would never willingly put her in unnecessary danger. "So, either Hydra suddenly decided to man the base or..." Steve starts. "The agent tipped them off." I finish off as Fury nods. "I've detained the agent, and he broke within minutes. It was a perfect opportunity for them to fight you without back up." Fury shares as Steve lets him go. "Except I wasn't meant to go in. So, they were faced with Y/n." Steve concludes.

"I'm sorry Nat. I really am. I never would put Y/n in danger like that. I wanted her to have a successful first mission. One that would build her confidence." Fury apologises with a sincerity that he rarely shows. "I want to see him." I state firmly, to which Fury sighs. "Me too. It's because of him that our daughter is fighting for her life." Wanda steps beside me, her eyes glowing red. "Not now, not while you're both angry and worried." Fury refuses. "He could be the reason my daughter dies!" I shout at him, but he doesn't budge. "And he'll also be the reason I have to arrest you for killing him. If it's not you it'll be Wanda. I'm not letting either of you do that." Fury once again declines.

In a huff, I drop to the seat in the waiting room, my head falling into my hands. He's right. I will kill him if I get my hands on him. "Be here for Y/n. She needs you now more than ever. Leave the rest to me. I can promise that he will not get away with it." Fury orders, the formality coming back into his tone. We all reluctantly agree, and he leaves content that, for now, a homicide will not be occurring.

"What happened?" I ask Steve when the silence becomes almost unbearable. He takes the seat next to me and his gaze falls to his blooded hands. "It was meant to be a simple mission to test her hacking. I was in the QuinJet for support, and she was to go in, get to the mainframe computer and download as much data as possible." He starts and I nod along. "It was going fine, and she was doing everything by the book, clearing each room one by one. Part of me was sure she would be just like you and be impatient to get what she needed." He shares, with a small smile, making me chuckle. "Thankfully, she's a far better agent than I am." I respond, feeling Wanda's hand interlink with mine.

"It was as she got to the second floor, she said something felt off. It was warmer and it didn't smell as damp and musty. She said there were signs that this floor had been used recently. Knowing the risk that could entail, I told her to pull back and we'd get a team to help us clear the base. It wasn't something we should be doing on our own." He continues to explain, my anger towards the double agent increasing by the minute. But I also feel pride at how she was able to establish that something was wrong.

"She did as I ordered, but she was ambushed on her way out. I was already on my way in to meet her when I heard gunshots start. By the time I reached her, all the agents were down around her, but an alarm was blaring, and I knew others would be on their way. I grabbed at Y/n's arm, but she didn't move. As I moved in front of her, it was then I saw where her gaze was fixed. She's been hit. I got her out of there as quickly as I could and set the QuinJet to fly on autopilot. I tried everything that I could to stop the bleeding, but there was just so much. I-I...." Steve starts to crumble as he aggressively rubs at the blood on his hands.

I reach out and place my hands over his, stopping his actions. "I know you would have done everything you could Steve. We don't blame you. I'm so grateful that you were there to help our daughter." I try to reassure him. "I'm going to clean up. I can't sit here with...this on my hands any longer." Steve says, standing up holding his hands out in front of him.

Silence falls again when it's just Wanda and me. I want to look through the window again, but I don't think I can see them working on her. If she dies, I can't watch that. She looked so small as Steve laid her on the bed. "I had always hoped I'd be with her on her first mission." I speak up, guilt building once again. "Hmm" Wanda responds, turning to look at me. "When we used to train together, I always knew she would be one of the best the agency we would see. I couldn't wait to work along side her. My pride was overwhelming." I share as Wanda smiles softly at me.

"What happened? Why did I let myself lose sight of her. I have no excuse for treating her how I did. When I adopted her, I promised that she would always be loved and safe. Look at her now. I wouldn't blame her if she never forgives me." I lament, tears stinging my eyes. "It wasn't just you babe. We both have done wrong by Y/n and it's not forgivable. But we can work to earn her trust back and be the mothers that she deserves." She tries to comfort me.

"What if she doesn't make it and we don't have a chance to make things right? Or she does make it through, but she wants nothing to do with us?" I question in a panic. "I think she always hoped you'd eventually pull your heads out your asses." Steves voice takes us both by surprise as he rejoins us in a pair of sweats and a hoody. "What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"Fury loves that kid. If she had asked to move out sooner, he would have allowed her too. I think part of her didn't want to go just in case you started being the loving and caring mothers you once were. Ultimately, she was still a kid and desperate to still have you in her life." He clarifies. "But she had already gone. We blew our last shot." Wanda speaks up. "Maybe you're right. But if anyone is worth fighting for. It's her." Steve points out and I couldn't agree more. I know that I'll do anything in my power to make things right and hopefully prove to my daughter that I love her more than I can express.

After hours of waiting, too scared to even glance through the window, Cho comes out of the medical room with a solemn look, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. I feel my breathing pick up once again, the thought of not being able to fix everything with Y/n becomes suffocating. It's not until Wanda grasps my hand that I find myself zoning back in.

"H-how is s-she?" I find myself asking in a quiet, unsure voice. Cho sighs and takes the seat opposite us, her hands interlocked. "Y/n suffered a gunshot wound to her abdomen. The bullet went straight through her liver. We were required to remove part of her liver, to ensure we saved her life. This was harder with the amount of blood that she lost. However, we were able to stabilise her before repairing the damage done to her liver." She explains.

"So, she's going to be, ok?" Wanda asks to clarify. "It's going to be touch and go. She's extremely weak right now and the next couple of days are going to be critical to her recovery. If she can pull through these next few days, I believe she'll make a full recovery. Though it'll take a lot of rehab to adjust to the changes to her body." Cho confirms.

I let out a small sob, knowing that she can pull through this. I have to believe that she will make it through these next few days, and we can be there to support her through her recovery. "Will she be able to return to full field duties?" Steve asks, clearly agitating Wanda. "Really Steve. That's what you're concerned about right now?" She snaps.

He turns to look at us and I know exactly why he's asking. "The SHIELD programme is everything to Y/n. To lose it after only just achieving it, that will crush her." Steve defends. "I think she would rather be alive right now." Wanda snaps back. "You just don't want to face that the honest truth is that without this programme, Y/n will feel like she has nothing, and I hate to say it, but she won't be too happy about being alive." Steve shares, an angry, yet sad look on his face.

Wanda goes to argue back, a look of hurt washing over her face. But I hold my hand up to stop her. "He's right my love." I interrupt her, making her snap her head to me. "SHIELD was the only family she thought that she had after she believed that she didn't belong in this family anymore. It will break her if she can't carry on what she worked so hard to achieve." I admit sadly.

I lock eyes with Wanda, and I see her heartbreak even further, if that's possible. "It'll take time and a lot of hard work, but I believe that Y/n would be able to return to full duties within SHIELD." Cho chips in, reminding us all that she was still in the room. "But first, she needs to get through the next few days." She reiterates, making all of us nod.

"Can we see her?" I ask, desperate to be with her and to hold her hand. "Of course. I'll be in my office, but the nursing staff will monitor her hourly." She smiles at us and leaves us to it. I take Wanda's hand and lead her towards the door and slowly push the door open. I let out a gasp when I see my little girl led in bed. She has a tube down her throat and wires attached to so many machines.

I've seen many people in this situation. But when it's your own daughter, there aren't words to describe the pain you feel. How helpless you are to make them better. All you can do is sit and watch as you wait for fate to take its course. Praying that you get your daughter back.

I instantly move to take a seat next to her bed, taking her hand in mine and holding it tightly. I notice the bruising to her knuckles, showing she fought. It brings a small smile of pride to my face.

Wanda goes to the opposite side of the bed and gently places her hand on Y/n's head. "I'm so sorry moya Lyubov." She whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "We promise we're going to make things right. We are so sorry that you ever felt like you didn't belong in this family. You'll never doubt this again!" I make promise to her now, one that I will repeat when she wakes up. Because she will wake up.

Part 2

[denileisariver]

pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader

summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems. pt.2

warnings: smut, some non-con/dub-con but not really, doggystyle!, creampies ♡, mentioned babytrapper!bruce but nothing happens (or does it 🫣?), some anal play but also not really, unprotected sex, descriptions of male and female genitalia, bruce is not the best father unfortunately, age gaps, uses of the word(s) 'baby' and 'daddy' like once or twice, non-consensual recording?, reader is described as dating girls in the past.

a/n: i guess this is a small continuation. i'll still be tagging as yandere due to some slightly darker undertones kinda. i'm not sure how i feel about this one but oh well :).

bruce never believed that he was a good man.

he could care less for all the praise he received throughout the years. fundraisers and charities, his image as a loving adoptive dad who took in struggling and orphaned children, or as batman. deep down, he knew he was selfish.

everything he did, he took too far. whether it was to fulfill a pipedream he realistically knew would never come true at the expense of others. or even with love, using the people he cared for the most just so he could gain something out of it. he considered himself lucky that all the little vigilantes he collected over the years stayed. and he was even happier you decided to stay as well.

bruce knew fear like the back of his hand. he could easily recognize it in your eyes whenever your eyes met his. whether it was subconscious or not, something in you knew that you should be cautious around him, and for good reason.

he couldn't quite pinpoint when his infatuation with you started. the only thing he knew was that it had crept up on him slowly, and it had been far too late until he realized its claws were sunk deep and he wanted you wrapped around his finger.

his mind would drift off sometimes, wondering if it's because of how closely he's been able to keep tabs on you over the past couple of years. you were strong and independent, more than able to take care of yourself, and others if given the opportunity. he admired that you were bold and selfless, driven. and he wanted to control that.

he stood by on the sidelines for far too long, watching you be strung along like an afterthought. he hated seeing your pathetic dates that always turned out horribly, pitiful men who only wanted one thing from you and girls that led you on because they were 'experimenting'. he hated the sad puppy look in your eyes whenever you hung around dick, before he invited you into his family, even if it was unintentional.

whether you believed it or not, bruce truly wanted what he thought was best for you. and if that meant keeping you under his surveillance, where you were at arms length 24/7, then so be it.

bruce wanted to train you how to be obedient for him. you were already establishing your own place in his household, practically marking your territory there, and he enjoyed every bit of it. for the most part, at least. there were still some challenges he needed to overcome, but you'd always been a good girl for him. that much he knew.

you tried to be grateful for him as much as possible.

even after his creepy behavior and even weirder training, you wanted to trust him. it felt wrong not to. everyone had been kind and did more for you than anyone else in your life had, and bruce set the foundation for all of it. you'd finally got a taste of being part of his family like you always wanted, and you weren't willing to let it go just because of eccentric assumptions and silly feelings.

you did find all of it a bit extreme, though. the excessive amount of gifts, the kids were attentive as ever, and alfred practically babied you. but it was normal. completely normal. at least that's what you chalked it up to, living under the roof of a well renowned billionaire, and you weren't about to complain about it either.

being around all the other wards put you at ease. regardless if you truly saw them as found family or not, you considered them your best friends. whether it was helping alfred around the manor as much as possible, burning pastries in the kitchen with the girls, playing video games with jason (which grew to be one of your favorite pastimes), you found yourself letting your guard down. like you could finally breathe and be safe in your own home, which was basically never while you were still surviving on your own back in gotham.

speaking of jason, you think maybe you are beginning to like the boy. sure, he had always been attractive, but you never actually got to interact with him longer than a short conversation here and there before dick decided to butt in. he had always been protective of you like that. you figured whatever you felt for jason might've been weird at first, but considering tim and stephanie dated for a little while, and they were still here, that it was okay.

you tried to subtly spend more time around jason. sitting close by during dinner or while catching a flick, offering to be by his side during patrol. maybe you were a bit more obvious than you would've liked, but jason took it well, much to bruce's disdain. the boy started to talk to you more often, more lively around you than ever, staring at you from across the room, making physical contact. and you greedily accepted it.

and of course dick would be the first to pester at you about it. he'd snuck up from behind, startling you when you were too engrossed in a romance book that you'd discovered while exploring the ginormous library.

"so you and jason are a thing now?"

the sound of his sudden voice makes your body jolt, damn near dropping the precious book you were reading that probably cost more than your entire life. the only people in this world that could make you flustered the way you are now are all living underneath the same goddamn roof, and you've successfully trapped yourself in it, willingly.

"what're you talking about?" the blank look on dick's face makes you cringe. in all your years of friendship, the two of you never really fought. the thought that he'd be mad about you being with jason was almost enough to make your heart sink. but the truth was, you weren't really actually with him anyway. things were just.. different.

all of his rigorous training with bruce had apparently worked off, because almost right on cue, dick notices how anxious you are right now. he shifts his body language to a more lighthearted demeanor, no longer as stiff. his voice is soft. "listen, i don't care, kind of, but.. just be careful." the way he says it almost makes you feel better, like he cares, and of course he does, but—

"what's that supposed to mean?"

your defensiveness is no surprise to dick. the look on his face let's you know he expects it, and you almost hate yourself for being so predictable.

"i don't want you to get hurt, that's all i'm saying." he tries to reassure, but it does nothing but the opposite. hurt you? you never expected much to come out of your tiny fondness for jason, and even if it did, you knew better than to think it'd be something that'll last forever. "I won't get hurt."

you say it like it's a sure thing. there's this unreadable look in dick's eyes. something that you don't think you've ever seen before, and it almost scares you. like he knows something you don't, but you can't tell what the hell it is. he curtly nods, forcing back that charming smile to his face, but you're no idiot, especially when it comes to him.

"i don't doubt it." and with that, he's gone.

☆☆☆☆☆

it's been a couple of days since your little talk with dick. well, more of a warning than anything, so that's what you take it as. you started being more mindful, not just around jason but everyone. more observant and aware of how you interacted with them. and after a while, you deduced that whatever dick was thinking is just part of his overprotective nature, both as a brother and as a friend. that he'd grow accustomed to you and jason just like everyone else was.

that was up until you noticed your possessions were starting to go missing. it started with just panties, then a bra or two, eventually your sweaters or jewelry. at first, you thought you were going crazy, just misplacing and losing things, but it was happening way too often. bruce spoiled you enough so that everything was replaceable, but still. was dick right?

was jason some sort of pervert or stalker?

well, you think all of them had the stalking part down, getting it from bruce, but you aren't completely oblivious to the fact that jason harbored reciprocated feelings for you. but to go as far as stealing your stuff? even dirty panties? there's no way. it couldn't be. if it was true, you were daring enough to confront him about it. you'd just have to wait for the right time to do it, but that proved more than difficult. there seemed to never be a perfect moment.

bruce had been more rough than before during sparring. and honestly, you didn't mind. at first, it scared you. but with the emotional turmoil you were suddenly experiencing, you almost liked it. those damn hands in your hair, a tight headlock cause his bicep was wrapped around your neck, a muscular thigh between your legs. it felt better than you would ever admit, and you found yourself almost looking forward to it. it was just because you needed some stress relief, right?

bruce intimidated you more than anyone you've ever met, but that didn't stop you from checking him out occasionally. the older man was more than attractive, and no one could deny that, not even you, regardless if you thought he was a bit peculiar.

if you hadn't been so enamored in your thoughts, trying to convince yourself that you weren't just another perv, maybe you would've felt bruce's growing hard-on accidentally poke your ass. or that he's held you in this same position for too long, admiring how you looked bent over for him like this and wanting nothing more but to make you take him right then and there. but he was upset with you.

you were getting too close to jason. on a fatherly note, he knows he should be happy. jason always had trouble around others, and he was probably just another reason for you to stay. but a larger part of him wanted to spank your ass over his knee, gag your tiny mouth on his cock in front of everyone so they knew who you belonged to.

he has to be more careful. he'd barely gotten ahold of you, and if he pushed too much, he'd run the risk of you trying to escape. but he couldn't bear to just stand by and watch while you and jason tried to pursue a relationship. no.. that couldn't happen. jason would have a knife at his throat if he caught bruce just now, that he'd hate him even more if he found out that the girl he was crushing on was being lusted on by his father figure.

but bruce could live with that.

that's why he doesn't say anything when he gently bounces the leg that's slotted between your thighs, your clit grazing against him through the thin fabric of your workout shorts. he only gauges your reaction to it, waiting, expecting you to fight back but you don't. the movement was soft enough for you not to notice it at first, but when the rubbing gets repetitive and you finally realize just how long you've been in such a comprising position for him, a flood of both excitement and anxiety goes straight to your core.

it almost feels like a betrayal to jason, even if you owed him nothing. you couldn't even remember the last time you hooked up with somebody, and it was actually good. you'd been stuck with making yourself cum, and that got old very quickly. on one hand, doing this with bruce could potentially ruin your relationship with his other wards if you were caught, and on the other hand, you were horny enough to not be thinking straight. even if bruce was a weird fuck that you didn't trust fully.

you manage to let out strained whimpers, hoping to appeal to bruce so he'd let you go. the arch of your back had become strenuous, but even then, you found yourself yearning for more. if this is what he wanted, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him. your hips move on their own accord, rutting and pressing the plush lips of your cunt along the thick muscle, face contorting slightly in pleasure whenever your sensitive bud received the attention it craved so much.

he allowed you to hump his leg like an animal in heat, his hips jutting out forward and now fully pressing a heavy cock against your ass, the clothed tip resting by the lower half of your back. whether you fully wanted this or not, it didn't really matter to bruce. the arm that was wrapped around your neck moves down, then squeezing a handful of one of your tits, appreciating its weight and how squishy it was in his grasp.

the differences in sizes made your body appear tinier than it really was, and bruce thought that was cute too. his other free hand wrapping around your body so he could feel both of your pillowy breasts in his hands, his groping making you squirm. even if you encouraged this more than you probably should've, you wonder if this is moving way too fast. he's your best friends dad for christ sake. jason's dad. (as much as he liked to deny it). and you were already living in his mansion.

all while these thoughts swirl through your head, bruce is slipping his hands beneath your shirt and moving the cups of your bra out the way, twisting and pinching at your pert nipples. his teeth find your neck, biting, a tongue licking the sensitive skin. you felt helpless to how quick and overwhelming all of it is. it doesn't take long for it to feel like his presence and touch is suffocating you, and bruce is even more greedy than you are.

"can i touch you baby?" the grufness of his voice sends chills down your spine.

you don't know why he even asks. you stupidly nod your head in agreement, even though rough pads of his fingers are already eagerly shoving themselves into your shorts and cupping your tiny pussy through cotton panties. he hums in content, noting the warmth of it and the gentle rhythmic pulses. your heart races, resisting the urge to hump his hand just like you were on his thigh.

much to your disappointment, he slips his hand out of your shorts, whining at the loss of contact. that is up until your bottoms are being pushed down your legs, and suddenly, you're conscious of how anyone could walk in on the two of you. and you still can't bring yourself to protest.

bruce bends you over once more, your face down and ass up for him. his cock aches in its confines, throbbing and begging to be released, but he holds it off. he stares at your exposed cunt, making you feel subconscious for a bit. your lips are soft and glistening, tiny clit shyly hiding beneath the hood. his thumbs spread your cheeks a bit, your slick holes on display for him.

your arousal drips down, dripping a bit onto the sparring mat in the process. your openings wink at him a bit with small flutters, and bruce leans down slightly, using his own spit to lube up your asshole and rim it with his thumb, even if he wasn't going to use it yet.

your body jolts, yelping a bit in surprise. no one had ever touched you there, and you certainly weren't expecting it just now. your hands move to try and cover yourself. "wait— i've never—"

bruce interrupts you with low shushes, kneading the soft flesh of your asscheek in his hand. he decides to feel your clit instead, his thumb working its way down your slit and easily finding the tiny nub. the constant and steady movement ties a knot in your tummy, instinctively pushing your cunt against his hand, soft moans emitting from you. fuck, he was good at this.

you were no stranger to playboy bruce wayne. ever since you've met him, he always had a litter of lovers that followed him around like lost pets, people that he'd never commit to always at his beck and call. you think you might understand why, now. he was a provider, strong, handsome. and even though you hadn't felt his cock inside you yet, you feared you might not ever want another one again after this.

your pussy fluttered desperately, needing something inside you, an impending orgasm building up but frustration was still there. one of his long, thick fingers offers you grace, gently pushing into your cunt. it was almost comical how easily he got you to gush and make a mess of his hand, the digit rubbing and pushing at that sensitive and spongey spot deep inside of you.

"fuck!— bruce—" you cried out, back arching even further, hair sticking against your forehead due to your sweaty state. you pant quickly, trying to regain composure, but your heart only beats more wildly, like a tiny prey animal, the sound of bruce's clothes being removed filling your ears.

you twist your body and head a bit so you could look at him, the sight making your mouth fall open slightly, practically drooling while you oggled him. regardless of his age, the man before you was built like a damn sculpture. hand-crafted to perfection. he was still toned in all the right places after all these years, even if his body had grown softer during his time as a father. coarse hair that led down to a fat cock that was standing up at full attention.

you whimper a bit, unsure if you were really prepared for this. you assume that whatever this is will have an unspoken agreement to be kept secret, at least you hope so. bruce was sometimes unpredictable, but if dick or even jason found out, you'd imagine you and bruce would be killed.

"don't worry baby," bruce grunts softly, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. the head of his cock teases your entrance, before moving his hips in a mimick motion of thrusting into you, fucking himself in between your thighs and cunt. the tip of his cock smears pre-cum along your stomach, a thick vein protruding from the shaft, and you worry your guts are about to be rearranged, not knowing if you'll be able to walk without a limp tomorrow.

you haven't been able to catch a good look at his cock yet, but you're sure he's gonna have the biggest dick you've ever had. it's proven to you quickly, the air being knocked out of your lungs when he fully sheaths himself inside, bottoming out without warning.

bruce grins above you, his hand resting on your lower back, just above your butt so he could watch the delicious jiggle of your ass bouncing on his cock. he keeps a slow pace at first. judging by your reaction, he knows the stretch hurts you a bit. your baby pussy was so taut around the meaty length, lips struggling to open up for him, even after playing with it.

soft ah ah ahs spill from you, body quivering ever so slightly. it would've been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't watching you as closely as bruce was. you wanted to take it. you wanted to be good for him. you didn't want to disappoint him. you needed to take his cock like a big girl, even if you didn't fully understand why you wished to please him so much. maybe it's just cause you were sick of feeling like a child in front of him. like you had something to prove even if it wasn't needed. he'd adore you either way, but you didn't know it yet.

bruce was surprised you even succumbed to him as easily as you did, an adorable determination in your eyes, he presumes for a number of reasons. you were deprived just as much as him, which sometimes led to some questionable decisions. which meant he also knew you'd regret this later. but those were problems for another time.

one of his hands finds your wrists, keeping your arms pinned behind your back. bruce imagines the dainty fingers struggling to wrap around his thick girth, how pretty you would look with a cock fucking down your throat. he had fantasized about this happening for too long.

he fucks you with consistent movements, cherishing this moment in case he wouldn't be able to get it back. you were a kind girl. he knew all about the conflicted feelings that were settled deep in your heart because he felt them too. the teary look in your eyes, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or fuck you even harder, but he'd do the latter. with or without your permission.

bruce snaps his hips with more ferocity, keeping his focus on the recoil of your ass, his cock getting getting increasingly wet with creamy white slick, a ring of cum forming at the base of his length. you shudder a bit, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, and you shift your hips to fuck him back, needily chasing your own orgasm.

"that's it— use that little pussy on daddy," bruce hisses through his teeth, his nails digging into your supple flesh, all the filthy sounds that you and that sweet pussy made had his cock pulsing.

you could barely register a word he said, completely forgetting about anything other than the persistent pounding your weeping cunt was receiving. tears prickle your eyes, spit spilling out of your mouth. you looked a damn mess, barely coherent other than the small chanting of 'daddy' just like a prayer, mindlessly accepting the title.

this was something that bruce could get used to. everything about you was just so damn perfect. he shamelessly hoped that you were ovulating, wishing to fill your womb with his seed and make your belly full and round with his child, then you'd have no reason to leave. even if you tried, he wouldn't allow it.

your toes flex and curl, legs trembling from a wave of ecstasy. your poor cunt spasms uncontrollably around his cock, a strangled but sweet moan forced out of you while you rode out your climax. bruce stuffed you full, plugging himself deep inside of you. he stayed there for a moment before fucking you with slower but unmerciful strokes, skin slapping against you with a force that made your breasts bounce harshly.

your pussy squelches, juices leaking all over him. you struggle to crawl away from him cause of the overstimulation, aching and already sore due to the ceaseless strech. but he only pulls you back, growling at your disobedience, swatting your ass with a calloused hand. bruce cums with a raspy groan, a bruising grip on your hips, the sticky substance painting your velvety walls.

the mat below you is drenched in a mixture of yours and bruce's fluids, sure to leave a stain unless poor alfred was stuck cleaning your mess, and you had a feeling bruce wouldn't do it. you'd be willing to clean it yourself to save the embarrassment, but your weak limbs had other plans.

you think he's finished with you until you're hoisted up, forcibly turned around so bruce could see the rest of your naked body. he wastes no time to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. he wasn't going to allow you to leave here without leaving his mark on you, claiming you by filling up and covering your chest with his lovebites.

he could care less if anyone had seen how effortlessly he managed to corrupt you. all it took was to turn you into his perfect little cocksleeve. it'd be damn near impossible to avoid him after this. even if he wasn't around, the memory would be forever ingrained into your mind, and you wouldn't be able to look at dick or jason or any of the other wards without the reminder that you fucked their father.

you gently try to push at bruce's broad shoulders, the effort not doing much other than making him bite down on your tit, then moving along to the other. you guess the post-nut clarity had hit you, and a tinge of guilt welled up in your chest.

your brows furrow a bit in a feeling of discomfort when bruce glides two fingers through your folds, then gently massaging the swollen button above them. but your heartbeat picks up again, cunt clearly working with a mind of its own.

strained whimpers spill like honey from your lips, now finally shaking your head and attempting to push yourself away in defense when it's what you should've been doing since the beginning. bruce let's you break away from him though, his lips pulling off of you with a pop.

stern eyes meet your lustful but ashamed gaze, a state of displeasure evident on bruce's face. it's something that worries you, unsure of what that might entail. you don't want to make him angry, and you also don't think you're ready to leave the manor just yet, but you also don't know if you can act indifferent around bruce and the others.

maybe if he wasn't around as often, things would be easier, and you'd be able to pretend like this wasn't a mistake. your throat bobs, swallowing your anxiousness, wanting to reevaluate yourself, preferably alone.

you kneel there and wait, half expecting bruce to just fix himself up and leave without much regard for you, because you assumed that's the type of man he would be after fucking someone, but he doesn't. instead, he let's out a small disgruntled noise, collecting your panties and shorts that he had pulled off of you earlier.

his cum is still seeping out of you, a thick load slow to ooze out of you when bruce had emptied his balls inside your abused pussy. he doesn't ask if you want help or if you wanted to be cleaned up, simply raising the fabric up your legs and thighs till the most precious parts of you were covered again. the cotton becomes damp, your wet core coating them with the evidence of yours and bruce's sex.

he shortly cups the tiny cunt in his large hand, gently swiping his thumb over your mound. a small sigh leaves his lips, almost as if he was sad to be leaving the warmth and tightness of it so soon. you're not sure if you're comfortable with how easily he assumed he should have access to your body, but you guess it's also partly your fault, so you allow it for now.

his lips find yours, surprisingly gentle and loving, a stark contrast to how hard he was pistoning his dick inside your belly. but it's pleasant, so you welcome that also. bruce's tongue is smooth and soft, gliding along yours for a moment before he breaks away, a hazy look in his eyes. something you don't think you've ever seen there before, and you swear he's so dreamy to look at.

it's when you remember he's still undressed, eyes shifting below between your bodies and honing in on the massive cock that bruce endowed. even if it was gradually getting softer, he was still semi-hard, his blood pumping to that area just in case he needed to go another round. he'd be more than willing to stuff that tiny hole for you again, and he wished you'd ask him to, but you don't.

but maybe you will someday.

he let's you stare at his cock unabashedly, his breathing heavy and shaky. he slowly moved his hand, gently jerking the long length since you were gawking at him. you let out a cute squeak, suddenly remembering you were about to leave.

bruce doesn't seem to care that it's getting late, or that the rest of the family would be heading down to the cave sooner or later, his focus purely on what was in front of him. but he can see the look of worry written all over you, and it deters him. he stands up to his full height, your eyes widening slightly, his cock dangled in front of you shamelessly, and a small smirk forms on his face.

he has to refrain from grabbing your hair and prodding his dick between those pretty lips of yours. he moves to tug his joggers back on, his cock slapping a bit against his thigh from the movement. you never break eye contact, and neither does he, your thoughts plagued by bewilderment and amorosity.

you stumble over yourself while picking yourself up off the ground, barely reaching bruce's shoulders. you have to tilt your head up just to look at him without straining your eyes, uncertain of what to say or how your relationship with him will be like after this. it's distressing for you, but you're even more concerned with how you're gonna be able to look dick or jason in the eyes again afterwards.

you push away your apprehensiveness, chewing on your bottom lip so you can find the right words. "this— this never happened," you stutter out, your voice coming out more frail than you intended.

bruces lips curl a bit in dismay, his jaw clenching. out of everything he wanted to hear you say, that was certainly not at the top of his list. his hands ball into a fist, his nerves tensing up. he would never think about hurting you. not physically, at least. but you didn't know that. bruce scoffs lightly, almost amused that you actually thought he'd let you off that easily.

you scramble a bit, trying to get your point out before he can get a word in. "if anyone found out–"

"who i fuck is my business only," he cuts you off, already knowing what you'll say next. it's something he's thought over plenty times already. dick had been suprisingly compliant with bruce thus far, so he wasn't an issue according to bruce, and it was easy to get to him anyway. but he didn't foresee his other sons feelings coming into play, or yours. "and you're not an innocent little girl either, so don't act like one."

shit. you were practically digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole since you moved here. you stare up at him with pleading eyes, and he can't help but soften up a bit. if you were more smart, none of this would've ever happened. how the hell are you gonna be pining after jason now? and bruce.. he seemed less than pleased at the moment. and your gut told you that he wouldn't be letting this go anytime soon.

but he was at heart, a family man. everything he did was out of love, and a desire to protect others so they didn't have to experience the pain he felt when he lost the people most important to him. at least that's what you liked to believe. after jason's passing, they worked so hard to rebuild their relationship, and the trust between them had slowly begun to resemble what it used to be, even if there were some slight changes.

there was no way in your mind that bruce would destroy all of that just for you. you were just some girl, who occasionally hung around his son, but that didn't mean you held as much value in his life than his adopted children. he wouldn't go as far as breaking down his own home, again, just for you, would he?

"if this ever happened," you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head, already gathering how he must've felt about this based off his demeanor. you were no master detective like he was, but being able to easily read body language, sensing people's energies, and intuition, you were good at. "it would ruin everything."

"we're not going to argue about this." he rebutted, taking on a more stern tone, his voice raising above yours. like he was already making the decision for the both of you, and you weren't having that. you want to say more till the sound of footsteps catch your attention, a familiar voice resonating from the stairwell.

"master bruce, is everything alright?" you silently thank whatever higher power that it's alfred instead of someone else. alfred has had his fair share of catching bruce in.. less than favorable circumstances. but the look of surprise on his face isn't something you can miss, even if it's only there for a split second. you'd been caught.

alfred's eyes wander down to the floor below you that's still wet with juices, registering what it was quickly. his eyes meet yours for a moment, smiling at you weakly, then taking a step back from you and bruce. "sorry for the interruption, sir." the older man says formally, turning on his heel to leave, but you do the same before he can.

"actually, i was just leaving." you glance at bruce whose eyes haven't left yours since even before alfred entered the cave. and then you were back to feeling small and helpless around him, back to square one. you sigh and roll your eyes at his poker-face, trying to rush out the cave to escape the awkward interaction.

alfred's eyes follow you with worry, only turning to bruce with a vexed expression once you're gone, shaking his head in disappointment. bruce stared at him blankly, already knowing he was about to get a scolding. "i'm a grown man—"

"precisely." alfred cuts him off, sass in his voice. "she's over a decade younger than you, your sons friend. you have no right to take advantage of her." he argued, pointing a finger in bruce's face.

"she can make her own decisions." bruce seethes, unwilling to hear him out. he hates himself for knowing deep down the butler was right, but he didn't force you to do anything. not really. he knew this wouldn't be without repercussions, but alfred wouldn't say anything either to avoid suspicion.

everything would blow up in bruce's face, and maybe he'd take some accountability for once in his life, but alfred highly doubted that would happen anytime soon.

bruce faced away from him, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. he hated how easily you turned this around on him, turning into a little cock-drunk slut while having sex and then turning around to be angry at him, but it was something he'd seen coming. bruce huffs out a heavy breath, ignoring alfred's smoldering expression. "just get out, i'll clean this up."

"and what of the girl?" alfred asks, side-eyeing the man he raised. he cared more for your safety and how you felt rather than getting on bruce's nerves. "that isn't your concern. i'll take care of it."

alfred was less than enthusiastic about what that could possibly mean, or what any of this would result in. his heart ached for you and jason, even occasionally eavesdropping on the time you spent together, and the friendship had blossomed. maybe it could have turned into something more, but he isn't so sure now.

he turns back into his more reserved and neutral state, giving bruce one last judgmental stare before leaving him to tend to him thoughts. there was no point in trying to reason with him, so he wouldn't waste the energy. he'd only watch you like a hawk now. and bruce included.

with alfred away now, bruce makes quick work of his computer. he searches for the camera he placed in your room upon your arrival to the manor. there's a weird feeling in his chest that he can't quite explain, unsure of what it even was, seeing you curled up in bed, staring off into space. this was one of the rare times he wished he was meta, just so he could read your mind, pick your brain, even if just for a little bit.

you didn't seem sad or angry. just more confused by what he could tell. your eyes shifting like you were thinking up all the possibilities and outcomes of this, and he hated to see it wrack your head. he wished he could say something, or hold you, anything that would give you comfort, but it'd probably just have the opposite of his desired effect.

he had hoped to dwell on the fact that he finally got to penetrate that pretty little cunt of yours more without having to stress over issues that were nonexistent for now, but that wouldn't be the case. there was always something there to bite him in the ass and humble him if need be.

now he could only dream that whatever emotions you possessed for jason would alleviate. that he was an option you didn't know you had up until today. he hoped that he could make you his. and he would. just one day at a time.

he makes sure to save the footage that the security cameras all over the cave had captured, for later usage. he didn't think he'd get an experience like that again anytime soon, that he had just gotten lucky this one time.

but you were almost too eager to fuck him back. bruce wondered if maybe he had more of a chance than he thought, but he didn't know the extent of the loyalty you held for jason or him. or if you would want to avoid the situation completely and decide to leave the mansion. he was never a religious man, but if there was anything for him to pray for, it was you.

he didn't know what was worse. his eyes narrow, analyzing you for a quick moment before shutting off the computer, his head almost beginning to hurt due to the frustration.

just one day at a time.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Part 3 (One of Us) of 'Never Took The Time (To Forget)' previously known as 'Hopper Adopts Steve But Make It Sad'

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), part 3, Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 4.2 (Robin's Boy), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

Here's a bit more for you filthy animals 😘

Much like he's come to expect from the small soldiers these children have fashioned themselves into he's not surprised when they come pouring out of whichever of the twins' rooms they shoved themselves in like codependent sardines. He's not surprised by the looks of anger and disappointment and confusion. Claudia Henderson's kid -Dustin- looks on the edge of tears with a grim set to his mouth that reminds him of when the kid's mom is beyond words in her slow-burning fury. El and Will have matching looks of disappointed confusion.

What he's not expecting is the way Mike and the younger (usually more volatile) Sinclair are holding onto an incensed looking Lucas. Lucas who has always been the polite one when it came to addressing adults and the one to preach caution and thinking plans through. Lucas who has been quiet and withdrawn since Hop came back, spending his days at the edge of Party affairs when not helping in the rebuilding efforts around town or sitting at Max's bedside.

"What the fuck, Hopper?" The kid spits out and that seems to snap the rest of The Party into action. Will goes to join the two holding Sinclair back but Dustin starts near incoherently yelling in that screechy pitch only that kid seemed to be able to hit about bullshit cops and useless adults and to let Lucas go. "He idolized you, man! Would tell us all the time that you were 'one of the good ones' that if we ever needed anyone and he wasn't there, to find you. That you would take care of us because that's just what you did for people. Because you were good!"

"Lucas, chill out man." Mike pants though he's also glaring daggers at Hop.

This is where Joyce (god bless her) decides to step in. "Lucas, honey-" She says with her soft voice and big wet eyes and that warmth she seems to infuse into everything she touched. "It's complicated. There's some things you just don't understand and-"

"No! You two don't understand! Steve is GOOD. He's good and he cares and he takes care of everyone else and he always kept us safe." The kid seems to be losing some of his steam, pulling at his friends less and resigned to shaking in barely contained fury. "He gets hurt and he gets back up and he apologizes for taking a fall in the first place! He's just Good."

"I know he's been good to you kids and I appreciate that, I really do Lucas." Joyce says, her voice a little stronger, that steadiness returning. "Sometimes people in our lives can do bad things to others and we don't see it because we care about them and that's not always a bad thing. But we have to remember that the people who were wronged are allowed to be upset and that's normal to feel and-"

"You mean like Jonathan?" The room goes quiet. Will looks resigned but not surprised by Lucas' question but the rest of the kids look just as confused as him and Joyce. "Did you really think Steve broke his camera -in the school parking lot of all places- for the hell of it? Did you seriously never question it?"

Hop feels something twist in his gut. He had been so caught up in the search for Will and wrangling a frantic Joyce that he hadn't paid any attention to small-town squabbles like two teenagers having it out in the school parking lot, the destruction of personal property or what might have triggered it. He looks over the kids' heads to see Jonathan and his stoner buddy standing just outside his door. The friend looks confused but Jon is looking at his mom who hasn't noticed him yet like a man preparing himself for the gallows.

"Mom." Joyce's eyes snap from where they were locked on Lucas up to her oldest son. "Mom, I-"

"What are they talking about Jon?" It's quiet. Quiet and scared because everyone in the room knows that whatever secret reason Lucas (and maybe Will?) seems to be the only one to know Steve had for picking a fight isn't going to be good. Jonathan's mouth opens like he's going to say something but no words come out. "Honey, what did you do?"

"He took pictures of Steve and his friends the night Barbara Holland disappeared."

"Will?" all eyes except Lucas' (who is still glaring daggers at Hop) are on the two brothers. One scared and almost pleading the other disappointed and resolved.

"He hid in the bushes and took pictures of Steve and his friends with Nancy and Barbara. There were pictures of Barbara at the Harrington place before she died and he never told anyone. But there were also-" He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he can't look at his older brother who has hung his shaggy head under everyone's heavy gaze. "There were pictures of just Steve and Nancy. Alone together. In Steve's room."

There's a sharp gasp that he thinks came from Joyce but he's too busy watching the young man he's come to consider a son. His head is still lowered and his shoulders are curving in on themselves as he shakes off the hand his long-haired friend tries to place on his shoulder.

"Oh baby," Joyce's voice is wet again. A tone of horrified disappointment to it that Hop has only heard her use when talking to or about one other person. "Tell me you didn't."

"Then he-" Will clears his throat like this one is what gives him pause. "He was caught developing the pictures in the school's darkroom. All of the pictures. And he had zoomed in on Steve's window. Nancy was the center of the shot." The kid's eyes flit over to Mike (who is now turning an interesting shade of red as he glares at Jonathan) before he blushes and looks at the ground, "She uh-"

Lucas does not seem to share Will's newfound hesitance in the face of an enraged Mike Wheeler. "Most of the upperclassmen argue if she had a bra or not but they all seem to agree she didn't have a top."

"Oh my god." Everyone was frozen as Joyce began to crumble. "Oh my god." He reached out to catch her, her nails digging into his arm through his shirt sleeve as she stared unseeing at her oldest son.

Jonathan started forward. "Mom, I-" a hand in the middle of his chest stopped him. "Will, please, I need to-"

"Just stop, man." Lucas sighs. "You started this shit, you gotta deal with it before you hurt someone else besides Steve."

"I didn't mean to hurt Steve."

Hops feels himself frozen to the spot in a way he's not used to anymore these days. His mind is working overtime picking out all of the charges that could have been pressed even against a boy of 15/16 if any of the kids in Harrington's inner circle had told an actual adult about the situation. The veritable legal hell that would have been brought down on Joyce while searching for a son legally assumed dead.

"Is that what you told yourself when you helped Nancy cheat?" And it just kept getting worse.

Joyce gives off a whimper and the kids gathered make varied sounds of shock and disgust.

"They were broken up."

"Were they? Cause everybody at school and half the town seems to all know about you and Nancy disappearing together when Steve was still calling her his girlfriend and then you all showed back up to school, Steve beat to hell again and Nancy hanging all over you. The basketball team STILL talk about it."

He's heard enough. "Alright, that's it!" He yells out over the children yelling and Joyce demanding answers and Jonathan's friend trying to say something about there being some sort of explanation. "This doesn't help us help Steve."

Lucas shakes off the loose hold Erica and Mike still had on him and crosses his arms as he rolls back his shoulders and tilts his jaw up to fix him with a glare. The kid's stance is almost arrogant but Hop can't help but notice the way he rests his weight on his off side, his shoulders back and his posture straight without his chest puffing out ridiculously like Hop is used to from teenage boys gearing for a fight.

"I think you've helped enough, Hopper." It's quiet and biting and he lets himself have a moment of grief for the childhood these kids lost, and the fact that he's almost positive Lucas didn't pick up this easy confidence from anyone else in their monster fighting club but Steve. "You and Mrs. Byers want to play nice now cause you feel guilty and that's all well and good but what happens when Steve does something else you don't agree with without explanation? Or he and Jonathan or Nancy get in another fight? When we finally get rid of Vecna and the Upside Down for good? What happens when you don't feel guilty anymore?"

"I can't make any sort of promise you lot will believe. And lord knows I'm pretty shit at keeping them anyways. I just want to be able to try."

"He mourned you, you know. When we were told you didn't make it." That weight is back in his chest. "He held himself together around us but there were- there were moments we could tell. He and El really bonded over that. Over you. Over losing you."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You didn't want to know."

"There's no way I can make you believe me. That I want to fix this."

"We want to, Hopper." Dustin butts in, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and limping up next to the other boy. "But from what you and Mrs. Byers were talking about... There's just a lot that makes a lot more sense and it doesn't inspire a lot of faith in either of you."

"We need to discuss this as a Party."

"Okay."

"That means letting us take care of it. Steve's one of us and you hurt him."

"I understand."

"So you and Mrs. Byers have got to wait till we say you can talk to Steve. That he's ready for it."

"Now, kids-"

"No they're right, Joyce. We fucked it up on our own and- and he trusts these little shits more than he trusts us right now. We've gotta do the same."

Joyce sighs, "Fine."

She's not happy about it and honestly neither is he. But if the last few years and his stint in a Russian gulag and the subsequent escape taught him anything it's maybe he needs to trust his people to do what they need to do.

The kids scurry back to whichever of the Twins' room they came from, led by a newly determined and involved Lucas and a furiously muttering Dustin. Jonathan and Joyce make their way to the kitchen and Hopper decides he's going to let them have that conversation in as much privacy as they can with a house as full as theirs.

Hopper sits in the living room, runs his hands through his hair that's finally growing out and pulls them down his face before resting his chin on steepled fingers. He hates sitting and waiting and relying on someone else for the next steps. But all he can think about is the sound Steve made. The look in his eyes. The pride in his voice the last time he heard him say, "My Hop."

That's it!

He stands up so fast his bad ankle protests and his knees pop. He limps to the front door, yelling out to the house that he has to go, has something to do. Calls out he has his walkie and that El needs to be ready on time. Then he's out the door.

Part 4.1

More coming soon! Hopefully! Work went from an active team of about 12 to 5, not including the managers we lost ssssooo... Yeah fun times. 🙃

So here's a tag-list, hope I didn't miss anyone. Feel free to yell at/with me in the comments or ask box. If you see your old tag in my list tell me your new one so I can fix it.

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @katdeerly @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @child-of-cthulhu @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @rocochen20 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus

[mionkings]

Making Heads Turn 🫨

Jason had become a father to a little baby boy, taking him in when he found the poor thing on the streets, in a cardboard box, wrapped in a space themed blanket.

While the obstacles a new parent goes through is tough. He knows it's worth it to have Danny, his baby, his son in his life. He doesn't regret adopting him.

Danny is now at the stage of his little life that he babbles and giggles, Jason always had fun having a conversation with his baby. Although Jason's sure that his hair is getting whiter with the chaos Danny brings now ever since Danny's baby brain realized that he can CRAWL to PLACES >:D

However this new development... is a little strange.

Whenever Jason puts Danny down in his crib to make dinner or any other important errand. Danny will begin to babble to the air, as if his little tyke is trying to talk to someone, making grabbing hands and scooching over to grab someone's attention.

It sent a slight shiver down his spine...

Ever since he made his introduction to Gotham as Red Hood, for the first time to those gang leaders with the bang of the AK-47. Taking over the Gotham underworld by storm with anger and precision.

He always felt a chill down his spine... When he was alone, yet... the Pit Madness flared everytime, making him feel enraged and paranoid. As if he was just waiting for a fight... for a confrontation...

Being alone in his apartment, having nightmares, more like repressed memories of what he had done... Lots of things, but for some reason—his mind... keeps going back to the moment he threw that duffel bag at the table infront of the gang leaders that night... the night he went after the lieutenants, taking their heads.

He doesn't know why.

But ever since the precious cargo that was his baby Danny, arrived in his life. That all went away as he took care, fed, and loved his baby boy.

Jason never had an episode with Danny; he couldn't bare the thought of hurting the child.

Jason was even having less episodes when he was with the Bats!

The chills; however, Jason still feels them occasionally... but they would always disappear the moment Danny would demand attention or to nap.

And instead he would feel something else hang over his baby everytime Danny slept peacefully...

———

Second ever DPxDC prompt that I've ALSO been getting brainrot over ❤️ I'm having fun 😄

Basically this prompt idea is Jason adopting a baby Danny, while seemingly unaware that he's being haunted/watched by the people's he's killed to become a crime lord. More specifically, being haunted by the heads/headless ghosts of the lieutenants Jason killed as Red Hood.

While Jason can't seem to see them, he can feel 'chills' from them. Danny, however, CAN see them mostly because I based this on that thing where babies/toddlers can see spirits in those typical YouTube videos that list ToP 5 ScArY gHOstZ VidEOz!1!1

Whatever happened though, this causes the ghosts to instead focus more on Danny than on Jason.

How much will Jason freak the fuck out when he finds out? Who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Although Danny is absolutely having fun here ^^

Anyways, I might add extra stuff soon to this!

[gallusrostromegalus]

My drawing skills suck are very unpracticed but I have a mighty need to create fanart of the garbage tarot. I don't even know anything about the source material but I am in love with these idiots.

Actually... I do a lot more mixed-media than I do drawing........... Hmm...

As a Completely Unrelated Thought, what do you think Zaraki's handwriting would look like?

I'm glad you asked because there's na specific answer for AEIWAM fic! Zaraki!

(Note: in AEIWAM, Kakiyo was Tousen's adopted sister, not an unrequited crush, and she raised money to go to the academy by working as a travelling schoolteacher for a while)

---

The first time Yamamoto gets a report from Zaraki, it genuinely throws him for a loop. Its a thorough if somewhat gruesome report about the 11th dealing with a pack of hollows that had been attacking isolated villages. Nothing Yamamoto was not already used to, but reading descriptions of mutilated villagers is somehow more unsettling when the descriptions look like this:

(a stylistic example)

Yamamoto takes him to task next meeting.

(continued under the cut)

"I know you're still learning the job Zaraki, but you can't foist your paperwork off on Miss Kusajishi." Yamamoto growls.

"I... Didn't? What?" Zaraki looks extremely confused, but the Captain-General is not fooled.

"You mean to tell me THIS is your handwriting?" Yamamoto snaps, throwing the report on the table, sheets spilling out as it slid down the length of it, so everyone could see the bizarre cutesy hand it was written in.

Zaraki's face darkened, jaw clenched. "Yeah. What about it? You goin' blind as well as senile?" He growled.

"THIS IS THE HANDWRITING OF A LITTLE GIRL, ZARAKI, DO YOU HAVE THE SAME HANDWRITING AS YOUR DAUGHTER?" Yamamoto slammed his hand on the table, temperature sharply increasing around him.

Zaraki began to arch his back and crackle with Reiatsu as well, but was stopped by loud ringing chime and a hand on his arm.

Yamamoto blinked in surprise to see Tousen, of all people , holding the giant back. There was a click as Tousen fully re-sheathed his sword. Suzumushi's chime wouldn't effect either of them, but it redirected their attention very effectively.

"My apologies, Yamamoto-sama." He bowed his head before turning his ear up at Zaraki. "Kakiyo wrote about this to me. You could only afford for one of you to receive schooling, right?"

Zaraki huffed and shook himself before answering. "Yeah, I was a broke-ass bastard before this." He grumbled, scratching his neck in a de-escalation feature. "Yer sister was a fuckin' saint and a genius. Neither of you have any business tellin' the whole world though."

"I think it was an exceptionally brave and difficult thing you did." Tousen shrugged. "Even when she used that method, less than one in a hundred parents actually stuck to it, much less achieved what you have."

Zaraki started looking everywhere but at Tousen, thinking. "... wouldn't call it brave, it was just makin' sure she was doin' good in school." He muttered.

Tousen kept listening intently at Zaraki. May I tell Yamamoto-sama so he doesn't cause another scene?"

"You're going to tell me what you're muttering about whether you like it or not." Yamamoto menaced.

"My sister taught Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi how to read and write." Kaname sighed and took off his goggles to rub the bridge of his nose. "It's extremely common in the Rukongai to have to teach children whose parents have never had any kind of schooling. Many of the parents would like to go to school too, but can only afford to send their children- actually , usually only one child. It's not usually an issue of money, but time- the parents can't afford to miss fishing season, or spare any siblings because they're needed on the farm. But, when you have a parent who is as attentive and caring as Zaraki-"

"Tttch!" Zaraki huffed at Kaname, who pointedly ignored him.

"-You can get around the schooling fees and scheduling problems by telling the student that their homework is to teach their parents what they learned in school that day. The homework you give the students is for their parents to do after they pass the lesson on and grade them on how well they taught their family." Kaname explained, putting his goggles back on. "Kakiyo was in awe of Miss Kusajishi's dedication to teaching you, and immensely proud of your efforts."

Zaraki still refused to look at Tousen, but his ears were bright red.

"...ohhh." Ukitake realized. "Wow, that's... I thought it was impossible to learn how after a certain age, that's - well, I don't think it's something I could have done!"

"What?" Glared Yamamoto.

"Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi have the same handwriting because he learned how to read and write by learning her school lessons from her." Unohana translated. "-An exceptionally difficult way to learn, and commendable for even trying." She continued, arching an eyebrow at him as a warning.

"Yeah and with all due respect Yama-ji? You're not exactly in a position to be complaining about anyone else's handwriting-" added Shunsui. "Zaraki's handwriting is odd, but it's perfectly legible. Nanao-chan framed your last memo because she thought it was an abstract painting."

Yamamoto turned to Shunsui with an aggravated glare.

"I'm afraid I have to second Kyoraku-taicho." Tousen said, without an ounce of chagrin in his voice. "The kido spell on my glasses can translate nearly everyone's hand, but the only person in the ninth who can read your memos to me is third-seat Maegawa, and mostly because she's had several centuries practice."

"Wait, we were supposed to be getting memos?" Mayuri squawked. "Dammit! I thought that squiggly garbage was the fax machine breaking every other week! I disassembled that thing three times trying to fix it!"

"You can all shut up now." Yamamoto snarled, and everyone did, but there were still a lot of pointed looks around the table, and Unohana's eyebrow had not resumed it's usual curvature yet. "Please consider my complaint withdrawn."

Unohana's eyebrow arched further and she cracked her eye open to reveal a coal-black iris, going from Warning to Threat.

"...My apologies, Zaraki-taicho. That was. Inconsiderate of me." Yamamoto muttered.

"Ya gonna shut up about it now?" Zaraki asked, not quite facing Yamamoto, but back still arched.

"I will hold my judgment in check in the future." Yamamoto acquiesced, watching him.

"Sure." Zaraki grunted, shaking his shoulders to drop the subject. "Right, what the fuck were we doing?" He asked, returning to the agenda.

---

After the meeting, Tousen took a minute to stand in the late afternoon sun, exhaling and releasing the tension of the day, when someone grabbed one shoulder and plopped something heavy on the other.

"Yeh didn't have to do that." Zaraki grunted just behind Tousen's ear, his forehead resting on the small man's shoulder, half gratitude, half grumble.

"One of the responsibilities of a captain is to keep the general in check, and I had a particularly good opening to stop that nonsense for good." Kaname hummed, hand reflexively coming up to touch the giant's head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing over the scarred visage and peculiar hairstyle.

"Didn't read that in the employee handbook." Zaraki grunted, grin in his voice.

"Yamamoto wrote those handbooks, and he'd rather we let him do as he pleases. You have to learn how to read between the lines, Zaraki." Kaname teased.

Zaraki gave his strange, low clicking chuckle of amusement and affectionately mock-bit Kaname's ear before standing up, still holding his other shoulder.

"...Thanks. " he muttered, giving his arm a squeeze and stepping away. "Gotta go pick up Sensei, you talk to her if you think I need more tutoring!" Zaraki waved, striding off to collect Yachiru in completely the opposite direction from her school.

"ITS THE OTHER- oh, he'll figure it out." Kaname sighed.

The sun was low in the sky, but it was still warm, and the first Cricket of summer started chirping, startling him. Suzumushi chirped with it, singing her mournful loss of her original wielder, but not so despairing this time.

"Kaname?" Sajin asked, heard before he was felt as usual. The lieutenant's meeting must have wrapped up late.

Kaname smiled and put a finger up, indicating he should listen. Sajin did, helmet tipping slightly to hear.

"Crickets!" Sajin realized, and offered Kaname his gauntlets hand to lead him home. "...I miss Kakiyo too." He sighed.

"You're not really gone if some part of you lives on in someone else." Kaname hummed. "I realized she is not so far gone today."

"Oh?" Sajin asked. "Where does she live on?"

"Have you read any of Zaraki-taocho's reports yet?" Kaname grinned. "His hand is not his hand alone."

[natailiatulls07]

I have to say, your Charles fics where he is/acts like a father are my favorite (the marguerite series and now the recent one) i'd love to keep seeing more ❤

Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader

Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader

Summary - It's his home race, his family are there and his win; All through Marguerites eyes

Warning - Mention of Herve Leclerc's death, mention of alcohol

A/n - I'm back oops! Sorry I haven't posted in a month, to cut a long story short alot of shit happened in my life and I took an unexpected break lol. Also @nikfigueiredo thank you babes <333

(The blue bold text is Sky f1 commentary)

Marguerite

-

26.05.2024

The atmosphere in Ferrari hospitality was tense. Well everywhere was tense but espercially in Ferrari. Charles Leclerc was leading the Monaco Grand Prix, leading his home race.

Somewhere special to him and his loved one. He grew up on these streets and to win is something he and his late had grown up dreaming.

"There's his family watching on; Alexandra is partner, Pascale is mother and of course his adopted little sister Y/n, who is the daughter of the late Jules Bianchi."

I could feel the Sky camera panning towards me and the rest of the family but I was too stressed. Alexandra was stood beside me and I didn't need to look away from the large screen to know that she was fiddling nervously with her bracelets, much like how I was fidgeting with long strands of my hair.

I watched as the laps ticked closer to 78, one by one slowly. It was really an out of body experience. Part of me knew there was people around but I couldn't care less for them, keeping focused on Charlie.

"And for the first time in 93 years, this favoured race is won by one of their own. Charles Leclerc wins the Monaco Grand Prix to achieve his dream; Victory in his home race!"

Only then did I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Once again the Sky camera is focused on me and Alexandra, but we don't care.

A soft touch shocks me out of my awe and whipping my head around, I see Alexandra looking at me with a excited smile.

"He did! Oh Marguerite, he did!" Her voice is surprisingly smoothing compared to the rest of hospitality. I just echo that same smile before wrapping my arms around her neck as I let out a shaky breath.

Behind Alexandra stand Pascale who captures my eyes, she has small tears on the edge of her water line. It wasn't hard to understand why she had tears in her eyes. I remember the day that we were told Herve Leclerc passed away, of course I was young but I could vividly remember it.

Pulling away from the hug, I feel a sudden surge of energy and excitement. In completely contrast to during the race, I start bouncing on my feet and laughing eagerly.

Turning to random people on our way out of the Ferrari hospitality. "Charlie won the race! His home race!" In return I would get sweet smile and laughs of joy.

-

"We can see Y/n Bianchi once again, I think she definitely rivaling Charles Leclerc in excitement right now. Not that long ago, we saw her excitedly talking to Jenson which was a funny thing to watch!"

We make it down to the track in time for the podium. Most of our trip down to the track was spent with Pascale and/or Alexandra pulling me away from restlessly talking to people about his win.

I look up at the podium, I watch as Carlos, Oscar and then Charles all make their ways to their respective steps. We watch as they are handed their trophies and as Prince Albert gives Charlie multiple thrilled hugs.

During the Monegasque national athems, I notice how his eyes floats down to us. Instantly the smiles on both mine and his face widens, finally feeling joy together. After the first athem, I join the Ferrari crew and staff in happily singing the Italian national athems.

"You know we need to get Y/n on to do something with the Sky f1 team because she seems like a sweet young lady and we know that fans her age love her!"

-

Whilst waiting for the team debriefing to finish; Me, Alexandra, Pascale, Arthur, Lorenzo and his girlfriend, Charlotte, were all given the now empty Ferrari hospitality to relax.

"Can you believe?! Oh I'm so happy for him!" Unlike everyone, I couldn't hold in my excitement and I was frantically bouncing in my spot between Charlotte and Alexandra. It didn't help that I was running on close to no sleep and some random energy drink.

Everyone just laughed shaking their heads softly. "Oh my god! We need to celebrate! Maybe even my first ever drink!?" I look over towards Pascale, she was practically like a grandmother to me.

She just laughs, giving me a knowning look before replying to me. "That's up to Charlie, don't ask me..."

"Up to me? What's up to me?" His voice comes out of no where, we all quickly turn to face the entrance and there he was stood still in racing suit.

I don't wait a second before rushing over to him and jumping into a hug, something we haven't done in a few years. "You did it! You did it!" I can feel the rumble of his laughter as his arms tighten around me. "I'm so proud of you!" I whisper gently.

Unknown to me, everyone in the room is tearing up. All so proud of Charlie but just in awe of the sweet moment between him and the most loving teenage ever.

"Also can I have my first drink tonight whilst we celebrate? Please!" With a pout on my face, I look up to his face but as soon as he shakes his head with a smirk, my pout turns into a frown and everyone around us just laughs knowingly.

-

[gatitties]

Weee could you write Kid pirates, white beard pirates and heart pirates with quite reader that likes to follow their captain around everywhere ? Just having their captain's little non-biogical bro/sibling following him around ( ok but replace white beard with Marco and/or Ace, that's a father not a brother )

tommorow is my last final exam, i'm just glad Byiee

—Kid Pirates, Whitebeard Pirates & Heart Pirates x reader

—Summary: you are a calm and curious person who prefers to follow around your captain or partner.

—Warnings: none

ohh, I guess you already know the note for that exam bc it took me so long to write this 😶 , but anyway, I'm sure you passed it! now it's time to enjoy holidays!!

─ Everyone watches in silence as you follow your captain around like a baby duck, kind of funny considering what kind of crew you're on.

─ Kid isn't a big fan of you following him everywhere, but at least you're not annoying since you hardly ever speak, he's started to develop the habit of looking behind him to check if you were there.

─ Maybe he'll end up taking it out on you at the end of the day because well, you spend most of the day with him, and sometimes he needs to take a weight off his shoulders, you don't mind that he yells at you, really, you just look at him in silence while he barks like a dog, waiting for him to give you some chore to do.

─ Everyone admires you, not only for your strength, but for your willpower in putting up with Kid's temper so easily.

─ Killer will probably tell you not to follow him for so long or you will slowly fall into madness, he doesn't want to lose crewmates that easily.

─ Heat thinks that Kid is a bad influence on you because you started to insult more than normal, also adopting bad habits from your captain.

─ But you don't give it importance, you like to follow your captain, at least this created a closer relationship between the two of you, spending so much time together made you both know every weak point you had.

─ And sometimes, in your most rebellious days you played those keys that irritated Kid the most, of course that was a double-edged weapon because he also knew what bothered you, so it ended in a silly fight between the two of you.

─ He scolds you a lot because whenever you help him in the workshop you don't know most of the objects that are there, so sometimes you just sit and watch what he does or play with the materials.

─ Maybe you're banned from his workshop because you once accidentally blew something up…

─ On those occasions you cling to Killer, you usually accompany him to do chores on the islands, so he can't complain that you follow him around like an abandoned dog when you are of great help.

─ Kid will feel strange not having your silent presence next to him, used to you being there, but he prefers not to risk his material.

─ You came to the crew when you were young and decided that you needed advice or someone to help you fit in more with that big family.

─ Ace was the closest person to your age and it was easy to get along with him, ending in which you began to follow him as an apprentice, Ace was helpful because unlike you, he was much more social and helped you get to know better some of your comrades.

─ Some make fun of you because you look like Ace's shadow, but neither you nor he could care less, you remind him of Luffy following him through the forest when they were kids and it doesn't bother you that he sometimes faints due to narcolepsy.

─ He doesn't mind at all that you follow him, although he would prefer that you talk a little more, but he understands that you are a person of few words.

─ Whitebeard finds it adorable, it's like watching two strangers become siblings from one day to the next, of all the people who were in his crew he could say that you two were the quickest to form such a close bond.

─ It's not always good to follow Ace, many times he gets drunk and you have to take him back to the ship, so maybe you take some nights for yourself, or rather to follow Marco.

─ Although you had a much closer relationship with Ace than with Marco, the doctor was also one of the first to accept you into the crew.

─ So when Ace usually goes out to a party, you stay on the boat since Marco doesn't usually sign up for that kind of thing, you help him with whatever he needs, most of the time he simply makes you move medical supplies from one place to another or order the drawers and shelves.

─ Marco will appreciate the silence more since you usually help him late at night and sometimes he has long days dealing with the crew, more than one day he ends up with a headache and thanks that you don't usually talk as much as others.

─ You probably won't take a good thing from both of them, as if the only thing you could keep were the bad habits of both of them, which means that you will be more daring and lose hours of sleep from now on.

─ Law is rethinking his life decisions at the moment he notices how you start to follow him throughout the submarine, maybe he accepted you too quickly in the crew.

─ You only got bored because you always completed your tasks quite quickly, and who better to tell you what to do than your captain?

─ Law appreciated his alone time very much, and you always broke it, although he couldn't complain much since despite everything, you didn't open your mouth at all.

─ The truth is that you liked to irritate him a bit, but then it was routine to follow Law in most of the things he did, as a consequence you ended up reading almost all of his personal library.

─ Shachi and Penguin will sometimes help you irritate Law by following him around the submarine, these two get bored too and seeing your captain upset with you all seems fun, at least it is until he separates your limbs and hides them.

─ You decided not to try to bother him so much because last time he hid your hands in the freezer and your legs in the oven.

─ Your discussions are totally silent, as if you shouted by gestures, at least you did most of the time.

─ You will definitely be losing hours of sleep because of Law, you will surely end up asleep in a chair long before him and wake up wrapped in a blanket the next morning.

─ The times you are not close to Law, you usually spend them with Ikkaku since being close to her will always give you advantages, you can choose what you want to eat if you help her in the kitchen, which also means that you can sneak some bread into the kitchen.

─ You'll end up running away whenever you do that, but at least you could laugh at the look on your captain's face when he saw a measly crumb of bread in his food.

─ Prepare for a revenge in the next few days, following Law daily also makes you weak against him, so just wait for him to use one of the things that bother you against you.

[ravenlilyrose]

Gotham does not want to lose one of Her children again. She's already gone to the trouble of bringing him back to life (a challenge to be sure, it took her months, but worth it for him, for them) and She was not about to let this... this... woman take him from Her again.

(She would not kill the woman, for the sake of the boy--tiny still and not yet fully Hers---the boy who was Her child's child and who would one day, she knew (because time was not linear, not to Her), also be one of Hers. For his sake, his mother would live.)

So, at the border of Gotham City (a purely political line; her true influence spread several miles more, and Her children would never be fully out of Her reach), Talia al Ghul steps over the city limits without so much as a thought, but Jason Todd--catatonic and being led by Talia's hand around his wrist--is stopped, as though he ran into a solid wall.

They are, for now, unobserved, and Talia tries thing after thing to get him through, getting more and more frustrated. Up until this point, she has not harmed Jason, but the moment she goes to grab his arm hard enough to bruise, a bubble pops up around him and she is thrown back. While the 'wall' at the city limits could not be seen, this bubble shimmers in unnamable colors. (Jason's eyes dart from place to place, following patterns and movements only he, so far, can see.)

Talia doesn't stop trying, but they now start to attract a crowd. Maybe Talia wasn't being as careful anymore, maybe her plan had depended on having been gone by now, or maybe Gotham drew some of Her people to this spectacle.

They watch, for a while, and a few even try to step through the bubble. It is fairly clear that the woman was trying to take the boy somewhere and that the boy was in no state to even realize what was happening. So, a few try to step in, but they also cannot pass through the bubble.

This is when Tim Drake comes along. I don't know when, exactly, Jason's resurrection falls in the timeline, so maybe he already has a plan, maybe he's already started to put it into play, but today, for once, he is doing something entirely mundane. Maybe he's on his way to school, or to the skate-park, or to a friend's house, but it has nothing to do with the local vigilantes.

Tim, the obsessive little stalker that he is, recognizes Jason immediately. A true Gothamite, he takes no more than a second to wonder about the resurrection before accepting it and moving on. Talia al Ghul he doesn't recognize, but he's fairly certain he would recognize anyone who should be taking Jason anywhere. Which means this woman shouldn't be. So Tim decides he's going to take Jason home to his dad. That should fix Batman.

Having decided that, Tim tucks his skateboard under his arm and walks toward Jason. He passes through the bubble like it isn't even there, and comes to a stop mere inches from the boy who would soon be his brother. (Bruce Wayne, elsewhere, gets an itch that would, were he in a better state of mind, have him starting to prepare the adoption papers.)

Despite not having been thrown into a Lazarus Pit, Jason is still taller than Tim, though by less here than he would be in other universes. So Tim is looking up at him. Jason's eyes drift to somewhere just over Tim's shoulder, but when Tim looks behind him, there's nothing there, so he figures that's just Jason acknowledging his presence as best he can at the moment.

"Hi, Jason. I can take you to your dad, if you want. Bruce?"

(Tim's planning to take him to Bruce whether or not he wants to go. It might be a little harder if Jason objects, but Tim has calculated, and it is the best plan for everyone. Still, it is polite to ask.)

At Bruce's name, Jason makes a soft humming noise and his eyes drift to Tim's forehead. Tim decides that's a yes.

Tim hooks the arm that's not carrying the skateboard through Jason's arm, and turns in the direction of Wayne Manor. (Talia, furious now, starts after them, but Gotham locks her into a bubble now, and moves it until it's outside the city limits. She can try all she wants, but Gotham is not going to let her back in.)

Probably, the citizens watching should stop the preteen? young teen? from wandering off with the older boy. Anywhere else in the world, someone would have tried. But this is Gotham. And these are Gothamites.

It was obvious to everyone that this was Gotham's doing. They had all gotten a sense for Her, one that Outsiders really didn't understand and Gothamites couldn't explain, but understood perfectly. This whole incident was clearly Her doing, and if She let that boy into the bubble, then She was perfectly happy to let him take the older one.

And none of them were going to argue with Gotham. To them, to every Gothamite, She was the highest authority. Over the law, over parents, over those pesky little things called morals. (Those who believed in a god would be hard-pressed to decide who they would obey if it came down to a decision between God and Gotham. It went against most of their religions to put anything above their god, but they were Gothamites.)

In any case, Gotham had let the boys through, and they weren't going to argue.

In fact, Tim was not the only one who could have gotten through. The criteria to get through the bubble were, in this case, that you had to be one of Her favorite children and you had to mean Jason no harm. So Steph could also have gotten through, though she had not yet put on a cape and wouldn't have tried. Dick could also have, or Bruce, or Alfred, or Barbara, but none of them were there and Gotham thought it would probably go smoothest with Tim being the one to find Jason.

(Some of the Rogues probably also could have. Not the Joker or Bane, but if the Riddler or Harley or Ivy were having one of their less murderous days, they could have done it. They probably would even have returned him to Bruce.)

But right now, Tim is leading Jason toward home (Jason's home, and soon Tim's too) and the Gothamites watch them go. Talia rages outside the city and Bruce and Alfred sit at the manor, unknowing that everything is about to change. Dick and Barbara still go about their usual lives, a light haze of grief about them that will soon explode into so many more infinitely complicated emotions.

Here we leave them, but Gotham doesn't, and She never will. She is happy to have them together, though, and will work on getting the rest of them gathered. But she's prevented one from being stolen, and that's a day well spent.

[vettelsvee]

CLIFFORD AND EMILY | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask me anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x race engineer wife!reader

word count: 3195

summary: y/n tells seb that it would be a great present for his birthday to adopt a puppy, and they find the perfect one

warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff. dad ferrari!seb as i can't get rid of him. based on 2018 season and narrated on seb's pov

a/n: once again, this is part of history series (coming soon as is being heavily edited) and translated by cele! changed my layout to my comfort people so are you like it? also, as always, i'll be waiting for your feedback, as well as comments and chats on that anon button please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated guys! tysm <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Normally, I didn't have trouble getting up in the mornings, especially during Grand Prix weekends, but today it had been incredibly hard to leave Y/N and Emily sleeping.

Maybe the problem was that today was my birthday, and, in part, we couldn't spend it like a normal family. I didn't mind working on such a special day, but it did bother me when I thought it was my first birthday with Emily.

Very reluctantly, I decided to start my day, trying not to let my bad mood consume me. As soon as I set foot on the floor, I adjusted the sheets to cover my girlfriend, taking the utmost care not to wake her. Nights with our daughter were exasperating, and I didn't know how Y/N managed to be at one hundred percent during team meetings, press conferences, free practice sessions, qualifying and the race, and especially the briefings and all the data analysis her job entailed.

I trained with Eddie for just an hour and a half. According to him, my birthday present was a less strict training session; even so, we ran a lap around the block where the hotel was located, and then we went straight to the gym.

At half-past seven in the morning, to my good fortune, he told me I could go back to my room to get ready for that Friday.

I entered as quickly as I could, being very careful because it was still quite early, and I assumed my girls would be resting. Deep down, I knew that wasn't going to be the case, so I wasn't surprised to see Y/N, still in her pyjamas, walking back and forth while breastfeeding Emily and trying to eat a piece of toast.

“God!” She quickly swallowed the bite and pretended she hadn't been eating. I couldn't help but laugh at how cute the scene seemed to me. “I'm so sorry, Seb. I had ordered breakfast to be brought up and ready for when you came, but I was so hungry and wasn't sure when Eddie would let you go today…”

I shook my head and approached her. I left a short kiss on her lips and then placed another on my daughter's forehead.

“Happy birthday, sunshine,” she said, wrapping her free arm around me. “How many birthdays have we spent together now? Eight?”

“Seven,” I corrected her, remembering we didn’t get to spend the 2008 one together. “And I hope there will be more because I'm not going to let you get rid of me anytime soon.”

“Do you really think I'm going to get rid of you so soon? In case you don't remember, we not only work together: we also share a house, a cat, a daughter, and we're going to have a dog…”

After that last part, Y/N let out a small scream and covered her mouth with her hand.

If I was the one who could keep secrets perfectly, Y/N Y/L/N was the complete opposite.

“What do you mean by a dog, Y/N?”

“Oh, well, I don't know… I must have mixed up some conversation I had with Aristella about Cherry,” her nerves were quite noticeable. “I got confused, and…”

“Y/N, I know you perfectly, and I know when you're lying to me. What did you mean by we’re going to have a dog?”

Given my insistence and, why not say it, the poker face I probably had, my girlfriend sighed. She placed Emily in the crib next to our bed and, while asking me to sit down and start having breakfast, took her mobile phone and immersed herself in it.

“Well, you see…” she began, sitting in front of me and taking a strawberry in her hands. “Since you adopted Vanilla as a surprise for me, I've been thinking that I would like to do the same for you, but between the chaotic 2013 we had and Emily's birth, I found it a bit impossible. It's also true that it's something I would like to discuss before doing it because it's a matter that depends not only on me but also on you,” she clarified.

“And that means…?”

“Forget it, Seb. It doesn't matter. I haven't told you anything, okay? Forget it.”

It bothered me to see her so indecisive, though it didn’t stop me from finding her idea quite endearing deep down. I knew she was nervous; the constant fiddling with the napkin and her flushed cheeks were proof of that.

“Do you want to adopt a dog?” I asked her, loud and clear.

“It’s not that I want to adopt a dog. Well, I do, but…” she sighed, stopped eating breakfast, and looked at me directly. “The thing is, I know you’d like to have a dog, and you’ve had that idea in your head for quite some time, so I thought that, only if you want, we could adopt one,” she finally explained.

“Do you want to wait until we get back home? If you want, we can talk to Michael and have him recommend…”

“No, no, not at all! I’ve already talked to Lewis about it, and he’s informed me,” she hastened to clarify. “Since I wanted to do all this, if possible, today, I asked him where he adopted Roscoe and Coco. I thought today was the perfect day for the adoption because it’s your birthday,” she repeated.

I nodded as I got up and headed towards Emily’s crib, who had started crying once more.

“I mean, all this is only if you want, of course,” Y/N spoke again. Before I could respond, she interrupted me once more. “But if you want, we can do it when we get back home. I don’t mind, except I wouldn’t have another birthday present to give you…”

Still holding the baby in my arms, I approached her and silenced her with a long, slow kiss, one I took my time with but received no complaints about, quite the opposite.

Y/N always went out of her way with gifts, even during times when her finances weren't the best. I much preferred her giving me something symbolic over an expensive whim.

So, the fact that she wanted to adopt a dog today, as my birthday present, made this thing I had wanted for so long even more special. Plus, thinking that Emily would grow up with the new member of the family made it a thousand times better.

“If my girl says it’s happening today, then we should follow her lead,” I finished saying. “What time do you think we’ll be done with everything we have to do today?”

[...]

“I hope there aren’t too many people, because if Britta finds out we’re doing all this without telling her…”

“Y/N, relax. If there’s any problem or anything, I’ll handle the press. Besides, it’s not like they don’t know me: remember I adopted Roscoe and Coco there, so they know me quite well.”

Lewis had decided to come with us to, according to him, ensure his friends received proper treatment. Deep down, I knew it was because he didn’t want to see Aristella, Britta’s niece and Y/N's best friend, hanging around Rosberg even while they were in the middle of their divorce process.

Hamilton’s concern for the girl wasn’t just something a friend would have, and I knew he was fully aware of that.

“Do you have something in mind, Seb?”

Lewis’s voice snapped me out of my trance.

“Sorry, what?”

“If you’ve thought of a name for the dog,” the dark-haired man spoke again. “I hope it’s something different from the usual. You know, the world has too many Tobys and all those common dog name variants.”

“If we’re talking about giving common names to pets, Seb is your guy,” Y/N spoke now, almost shouting. “When he adopted Vanilla just to get me to move in with him, he told me Garfield was a better name. Garfield, like the cartoon cat! If that’s not common…”

“What do you want to call an orange cat, Y/N? Vanilla? I remind you that you wanted to name her Cheeto…”

“Because she looked like a Cheeto and I thought it was a male!” she retorted. “Later, when I realised she was female and not so orange, I named her Vanilla.”

“Vanilla, I like it. It’s an… interesting name,” Lewis intervened. “Can I ask why you named her like that?”

“Y/N's favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla. That, and if you add the fact that cats are her favourite animal…” I answered in her place.

I saw Y/N's lips curve slightly in the rear-view mirror.

Then, she turned around and put a hand on my leg, stroking it.

“I hope you find the perfect name for the new family member, love. Even if it’s the same as every other dog in the world,” she said ironically.

After those words, I realised we had arrived at the shelter Lewis Hamilton seemed to admire so much.

The Brit, as he guided us towards what appeared to be the entrance, commented that we should be careful with Emily, not because the furry ones were aggressive, but because they got very excited when they had visitors, especially if they were children.

A dark-skinned woman with completely dark hair was at the door, as if she had been waiting for us for a while. Lewis gave her a hug and immediately introduced us.

“These are Sebastian Vettel, his girlfriend Y/N, and their daughter, Emily.”

She gave us a smile, and I saw she intended to shake our hands until she saw our little one. She approached to dote on her as soon as Y/N gave her permission with a glance. Emily’s laughter began to fill the room, and she started to move cheerfully in Y/N's arms.

“I’m so sorry for my lack of manners, but when I see such a beautiful baby like this little one…” the woman began to say, still playing with the child. Then, she cleared her throat and looked at both of us. “Nice to meet you, couple,” she finally shook our hands. “I’m Jade, and well, I’ve been a volunteer at this shelter since time immemorial, back in the prehistoric times.”

“Don’t say that, Jade! You look wonderful,” Lewis told her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t be so flattering, young man,” she chided him. “I appreciate all kinds of compliments for my age, but that’s not why we’re here. Well, tell me: if I’m not mistaken, and as your friend here has told me, you want to expand your family, right?”

Now she was looking intently at both of us. I nodded in response; at the same time, and by inertia, my right arm wrapped around my girlfriend’s waist, which made Emily start reaching out her little arms to come to me.

“Today is Seb’s birthday, and he’s been wanting to adopt a dog for quite some time,” my girlfriend explained.

“Oh, the adoption is a birthday gift!” Jade exclaimed, beginning to clap and approaching me quickly to give me a hug that I gladly accepted. “Happy birthday, dear! How old are you now?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Oh, dear. If I could be that age again…”

I smiled at her response as Y/N handed me Emily, who had started babbling to come to me.

“A daddy’s girl, I see, huh?” Jade chimed in. Y/N was about to answer, but before she could even do so, the woman was already speaking again. “Well, since it’s your birthday, I think I have the perfect gift for you.”

Without saying anything more, the woman gestured for us to follow her, and we did. We passed through several areas with dogs of different ages roaming freely, who approached us to sniff and perhaps convince us to adopt them.

Lewis mentioned that some of them were related to Coco. I laughed at the supposed joke, which stopped being a joke when Jade confirmed it. Y/N lagged behind a few times because she stopped to play with the dogs that approached her, which were quite a few. Emily and I, however, kept a brisk pace, possibly eager to find out what the woman was talking about and why she was being so mysterious.

Finally, we arrived at a kind of room with less light than I expected and, to my surprise, full of what seemed to be soft little beds. On top of them, not only was there a dog lying down that seemed quite tired, but there were also several puppies nursing from her.

Jade indicated before we entered that we should remain silent.

“One of our dogs gave birth last night,” she told us. “I don’t want to give all her puppies up for adoption since I’d like at least one to stay with her, but considering that the puppies and you share a birthday, I’d be delighted if you adopted one of them.”

I opened my eyes wide and couldn’t say anything. Next to me, Y/N seemed to have reacted the same way I did.

Saying we were surprised would be an understatement.

“But… are you serious?” my girlfriend commented, still in surprise.

“Of course, dears!” the woman responded cheerfully. “The only issue, so to speak, though it’s not really a problem, is that it’ll take about a month and a half before you can take him home. You know, the separation process from the mother is crucial.”

“No problem, really. We’ll wait as long as it takes,” I finally spoke. “Besides, I think we have a break around that time, right?”

“Yes, about a month,” Lewis replied.

“We’ve already got our vacation destination, sunshine,” Y/N said to me, apparently much more excited than I was.

“Now, I need you to tell me something important: which one of them do you want to be your little girl’s new brother?”

Still holding Emily, Y/N and I carefully approached the puppies.

To our eyes, they all looked exactly the same. We couldn’t see their eyes, but I was almost convinced they would be similar to the colour of their fur, a light brown skin similar to beach sand. They were huddled together and didn’t seem to be doing anything other than trying to nurse for as long as possible.

“Do you know what breed or mix they are?” Y/N asked the lady with that characteristic curiosity of hers.

“If I remember correctly, their mother is a golden retriever and their father, a big labrador.”

My girlfriend thanked her, turning towards her and leaving Emily by herself for a moment. At that point, seemingly unaware that her mother wasn't watching her every move, the little one began to crawl towards the puppies. Instinctively, I quickly scooped her up in my arms to prevent her from doing so. However, she didn't seem to give up: she started kicking until, just like that, I brought her a little closer to the furry animals.

While Y/N and Lewis chatted with Jade, I remained seated on the floor next to my daughter, who seemed to have settled on a particular puppy. I tried shifting her gaze from side to side, attempting to get her to notice the rest of them, but it seemed the one farthest from its mother had caught her attention the most.

“I think Emily has chosen who’s going to be her adopted sibling, hasn’t she?” I remarked.

As soon as I said that, the three of them turned towards me, crouching down to my level. Emily was still engrossed with that little one and seemed to continue being so until we left.

“Have you chosen for Daddy, Emi?” Y/N asked, almost lying on the floor to join the game that Emily was playing with the one who seemed to be our new child. “Do you want this to be your new little brother? Or sister, of course.”

“He's a boy, actually,” Jade intervened. “And, if I’m honest and don't recall incorrectly, he’s the oldest of the whole litter.”

“Do you want to adopt this little one then, sunshine? Honestly, if you’re not convinced we can wait a bit…” Y/N whispered as if wanting it to be a secret between us.

“Clifford,” I suddenly blurted out.

They looked at me as if they had seen a ghost. Of course, I would act the same if someone dropped a name out of nowhere in a situation like this.

“I want to name him Clifford,” I clarified. “Remember the series about that big red dog you told me you watched with your sisters when they were little?” I asked my girlfriend, who nodded. “Well, if I remember correctly, you told me that the main character of the series, who was also the owner of the dog, was named Emily.”

“What’s that got to do with it, love?” she asked, curious. Did she really not know why I had suggested that name?

“Well, it just so happens that your daughter is named Emily and she seems to have chosen for us.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up and widened exaggeratedly. I swear I saw them get a little misty when she finally seemed to understand what I meant. Immediately, she stood up, took the baby in her arms, and began to talk to her while they played as if they were the only ones in the room.

“I guess I already have a birthday present, right?” I asked the redhead, standing beside her and giving her a kiss on the forehead and another to our daughter.

“Emily and Clifford…” she murmured. “I like it. I love it, actually.”

“Well, I hope that when we have the next baby, I can nail it in the same way.”

Jade, after the last sentence that I had just said, was left dumbfounded. Lewis, for his part, tried to turn a deaf ear and, instead, told me that they would be waiting for us at the entrance to do all the necessary paperwork, not without whispering to me in the least blatant way possible that he hoped that this would be my other birthday present.

Obviously, he deserved a well-deserved punch from Y/N.

“Are you already thinking about the next baby, love? Emily hasn’t even turned one yet!”

“I always think about the second baby, to be honest,” I replied. I was convinced, and I knew as well as she did that we had barely laid the foundations of our family. “A puppy brother for Emily is fine, but a human one would be a thousand times better. Don’t you think so?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned away, heading towards the shelter entrance. I quickly caught up with her, and her laughter filled my ears.

“If you're already thinking about our second baby, then we'll have to listen to Lewis and start practising tonight before dinner with my parents,” she suggested.

Her mischievous look infected me, and I couldn’t help but return it.

“As the birthday boy, I vote for squeezing in a free practice session before dinner with my parents tonight. How does that sound?”

“Whatever you wish, birthday boy,” she replied. “But I hope you come up with a good enough excuse for them not to suspect anything when we arrive late, and also when you ask if they can keep Emily overnight.”

[hoebii]

Black Mamba XII

Pairing : OT7 x Hybrid! Reader Genre : Angst, Fluff, Hybrid!Au Rating: nc-17 Warning : Violence, swearing, mental breakdowns, weapons (mentioned), toxic thoughts, blood • Information above may change as the story progresses Wc : 1.3k Betas : @moccahobi​​ Banner and divider : @jaeism​ Wanna be tagged? Complete this form A/N : *taps mic* I'm alive and I'm sorry for going poof for so long but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter even though the wait wasn't worth it at all I know Feedback is always appreciated! *runs and trips and then runs away again into the darkness*

Previous || Next

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you felt someone place a plate of food on the dining room table in front of you. You looked up to see Kevin beside you, briefly giving you a nod of acknowledgement before moving on to serve the others who sat around the table. You nodded your head in gratitude, pulling the plate closer to you and fiddling with the silverware already set on the table. 

You had been getting lost in your head more often recently. Ever since the past started visiting you, disguised as nightmares, you started to sleep less - not wanting to be thrusted back into moments of your life you no longer wished to be a part of. 

When Namjoon adopted you, you wished to leave everything behind, no longer to be tied down to your dark past. 

Though who were you kidding? You could never run from the atrocities that you once committed.

The things you had done could never be excused, there was no redemption for you.

You tried to push the thoughts back but each time you tried, the voices came back stronger. 

You know you don’t deserve this luxurious life. These people who show you nothing but kindness deserve a lot more than what you can give them.

You were broken out of your reverie when the sound of chatter and laughter reached your ear, cutting through the dark clouds that took place in your mind. Looking up, you watched as the masters conversed amongst themselves at the dinner table while being served.

You still remember the first day they had invited you to have food with them - which was the first day you were adopted - and how Taehyung had given his seat to you as there weren’t enough chairs for all eight of you to sit together, much to Yoongi’s chagrin. 

You had offered to simply eat in the kitchen or even the floor if needed, though the horrified looks on everyone’s faces had made you realise that wasn’t an option. After that, they had bought a bigger dining table, one that would fit everyone.

Your eyes met Hoseok’s, who was sitting opposite to you with Yoongi and Jimin on either side of him. Namjoon sat at the head of the table and Taehyung and Jungkook sitting on either side of you, the other chair at the head of the table empty.

Hoseok gave you a smile before returning his attention to the conversation he was having with Yoongi.

Namjoon cleared his throat to grab everyone’s attention at the table. Shooting you a smile of his own when his eyes met yours before looking at the others too.

“So I was thinking,” he started. “None of us have properly introduced ourselves and what we do to Y/N here. Why don’t we do so right now?”

Your interest piqued at that, sitting up straight and focusing all your attention at Namjoon.

“I’ll go first,” he offered, never losing the gentle smile he always seemed to have when speaking to the inhabitants of the house. “I’m a lawyer, as I told you before. A criminal lawyer to be more specific.”

“I’m your typical businessman,” Jimin continued right after Namjoon without missing a beat as he gave you a cheeky smile.

You looked at Hoseok when he laughed, wanting to know the reason behind it. 

“Don’t let him fool you, Y/N. He’s the CEO of HJ Enterprise, alongside me. He’s anything but a typical businessman, he can charm your whole company under his name if you’re not careful.”

Your eyes widened at that, making Hoseok laugh out louder while Jimin hit his shoulder playfully with a scoff.

“Owner of Ddaeng Bar,” Yoongi mumbled, looking bored as ever as he gave a small wave with his fingers. 

Though you wouldn’t say Yoongi liked you now, he was more tolerant towards you. Rather than scoffing or leaving the place whenever you entered, he took to simply ignoring you unless needed otherwise. On a good day, he might even speak to you unprompted! Mostly to notify you about one of the other masters looking for you or such but a win was a win and you had no right to complain.

“He opened Ddaeng purely for getting free alcohol whenever he wants,” you heard Taehyung stage-whisper into your ear. You didn’t react like you once would at being startled, rather only stiffening before relaxing just as quickly. 

You had gotten the closest to Taehyung, with him always trying to spend his free time with you or giving you compliments whenever he had the chance. You weren’t used to getting so much attention, so at first you used to fumble for words and try to leave the place with one excuse or another but Taehyung stayed persistent.

Whenever you would try to leave, he would follow you around like the puppies you used to see back in the adoption centre. If that wasn’t possible then you found Taehyung sulking around until you would speak to him again. 

There was an instance where Jin had seen Taehyung sulking after you had once again ran away from him and he made a joke about how Taehyung seems to prefer your company more than theirs. You didn’t know why but watching the other masters - except Yoongi, who simply watched the scene unfold - join in with Jin’s joke made your face feel so warm. It was truly a peculiar feeling, the warmth that spread throughout your body.

It was especially confounding when Jimin made a comment about how he was jealous, to which Jungkook also agreed and you feared you were falling sick with the way your heartbeat spiked and face flushed even more. 

Was this normal? You couldn't tell if you should have been more concerned or not.

Although you had to admit that even though you didn’t want to and it was in no way voluntary, you had started to trust Taehyung a little. He was slowly becoming someone you dared to say that you enjoyed the company of. Someone you felt like you could share what was on your mind without thinking too much about the protocols you would surely be breaking if you were back at the lab.

It scared you how much you were slowly starting to break all those trainings that were ingrained into you, never to be forgotten or broken.

Or so you thought but with all those protocols that were purely there to make sure you were but a mere robotic killing machine slipping away, you felt lost and stranded. Fight as you might, you couldn't help lowering your guard and disregard the dangers that may come with doing so the more you got to stay with your masters.

It was only a matter of time before they would leave you and you still took these risks. What were you becoming? This was not what you were created as.

Before you could drown farther into the abyss, you were brought back to present yet again as you heard a dismissive grunt escape Yoongi’s throat, once more settling your attention on the ongoing conversation.

“And what about it?” Yoongi grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Taehyung. 

The younger laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender before he turned to you again, ignoring the question that was thrown his way. 

“I’m a fashion designer,” he started, puffing his chest out in pride. “If you couldn’t tell yet by my immaculate taste in fashion.”

Jungkook from your other side snorted, making you turn to him next. “I’m sorry, does the Stitch onesie fall under this ‘immaculate fashion taste’ too?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook laughed louder at the offended look Taehyung shot him, grinning mischievously before giving you a wink. “I’m in the automotive industry, founder of JK Car Manufacturer. I’ll get you the best cars out there, ones that are fast enough to help you escape after robbing a bank.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal” you stated, raising your eyebrows.

“I know,” he replied, the cheshire grin never leaving his face.

Namjoon cleared his throat, shooting Jungkook a look you weren’t able to quite decipher but it made the younger lean back into his chair and whistle innocently.

Did you miss something?

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[lis-likes-fics]

Princess II

Pairings: Eddie Munson x rich!Reader Word Count: 18k words Warnings: Slow burn, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, strangers to best friends to lovers... A/N: This was so much fun to write. It took like....over a year to finish this two-parted but it's done and I love them so much. They're literally idiots. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you! (And a special thanks to my beta reader, you're amazing!)

The months pass smoothly, and soon you've been incorporated into aspects of Eddie's life that you've dreamt of for years.

It started with you ditching the cheerleading squad at lunch to go sit with Eddie and his friends. They were so sweet to you, if not a little flirty. Dustin was always eager to see you at lunch, showing off his intelligence or quick-wit any chance he got. He was all smiles, treating you like his cool aunt who got him just about anything he asked for because you liked to spoil him.

Mike was also excited, but he was also a little more open to accepting gifts and things from you. But he was the middle child in his family, so you kind of expected it.

Gareth, Fred, and Jeff all had similar reactions. Though Fred was more skeptical of having a girl like you in the group, you were easy to warm up to. Gareth and Fred constantly flirted with you, but you suspect they did it more for Eddie's annoyance than yours. You warmed up to them.

But Eddie.

The first day you went to sit with them, he'd made one of his buddies get up and move so you could sit next to him. It was a complete change in fondness, like his comfortability to you had skyrocketed to the other end of his kindness.

He included you in every chat, asked questions that weren't awkward but let him and the group get to know you. You really felt comfortable there, like one of them. You expected to feel a little off, but you didn't. They were so kind.

Everyone sneered for a while. The first couple of days were full of glares and snickers from those of other tables. But the longer you sat there, the less people cared. Whatever. You could do what you want, you're the princess. Eddie's comments on how people pick on him and his friends dwindled, though it never fully disappeared.

The squad wasn't so happy, not that you cared. They talked about it to your face and behind your back. It always got back to you of course, Chrissy kept you updated.

You actually managed to pull Chrissy a couple of times to sit with you and Eddie. She enjoyed it just as much as you.

Soon you started joining them during their campaigns. You just sat out and watched at first, serving as their cheerleader, until Eddie pulled you in by your waist, sat you down next to him like you always do now, and let you join in as any character of your choosing. You were an orc named Bill.

The longer you were friends with Eddie, the closer you got, and you loved every second. You went from sitting at his lunch table to playing campaigns with him to regularly going to his house (to the point where you could walk in and Wayne would wave and point down the hall where Eddie sat in his room) to spending just about every day glued to his side, his inseparable friend.

Eddie had always wanted a friend like that, though he'd never admit it, adamant on maintaining his reputation as a freakish outsider who didn't need anyone, who adopted all the other losers into his band of rejects.

He'd always wanted someone who loved spending that much time with him. He's way more happy than he'd like to admit that you haven't gotten tired of him yet.

Spring break comes and goes. You spend the whole of it with Eddie, except for the one day your parents decided to take you to one of the charity events in town. You spent the whole of it with Chrissy in a pretty dress that Eddie said he liked—considering she was in the same class as you and your parents were close friends.

You learned a lot of things over the time you spent as Eddie's friend.

You learned that every time he's asked what his favorite color is, he says black or red just to be edgy when, really, it's baby blue.

You learned that he loves pizza, he could finish an entire pie by himself in under ten minutes. Then he'd smile at you with his face covered in pizza sauce and you'd feel like you were going to puke, you're so in love.

He claims to be ambidextrous, but you've seen his left-handed penmanship and there's nothing ambidextrous about it. He likes loud, thundering music, but you've seen him turn into a softy from the slow, quiet kinds you never thought he'd be into. He lifts sometimes, revealing to you how lean he actually was when you walked in on him shirtless in his room once with weights in his hands.

You'd left the room to recuperate. He'd teased you about it for weeks.

He's terrible at math but he's a decent writer, he's a nice singer—and you melt every time you hear him sing, no matter the genre—he can draw, he can read three different books in one week, he cannot cook, but he can boil the hell out of some water. Wayne was very happy when you showed up in Eddie's life and started cooking for them.

You watched him learn the entirety of Metallica's new song, Master of Puppets, in under a month.

Choosing to become Eddie's friend was a terrible decision in only one way: every single day, he gives you more and more reason to fall deeper in love with him. Your heart is so full, you think you'll die.

You don't know if Eddie knowing that you like him is better or worse. On one hand, he knows he definitely has the option if he really wants it. On the other, he doesn't know just how much you have fallen and him being him tears you apart from the inside out.

But if this is the closest you'll get to him, you'll gladly burn inside just to get the chance to hold his hand.

~

After pulling up in front of your house, Eddie opens your door like a gentleman so you can make him study for a test he had that you knew he wouldn't do otherwise. He slung your bag over one shoulder, grabbing his own to do on the other side.

"Wait!" you tell him as he's slamming the door. You rush inside, smiling wide as you disappear into the house. Eddie follows you, taking his sweet time about it. You're already running down the stairs as he reaches the door after finally walking the length of your huge driveway.

You come out with your hands behind your back, smiling too big for your face as you look at him. He raises a brow, dropping both your backpacks inside by the door and leaning to the side. His knee pops out, making him look as sassy as he probably feels.

"Another gift?" he asks, almost exasperated as he recognizes that sticky sweet smile on your face. He loves it but the amount of gifts you shower him with is insane sometimes.

"Are you trying to buy my love or something?" he teases. "Is this a bribe, Princess?" He lifts his brow ridiculously high and lowers his voice ridiculously low, as if talking in secret.

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. "Don't be ridiculous," you shake your head. "It's a gift."

He shrugs a shoulder. "Same difference."

You scoff. "Shut up and close your eyes." He makes a teasing snort but does as he's told. You bite the very tip of your lip. "Hold out your hands." He does it.

You pull the long, yellow envelope from behind your back, tied with a thin white ribbon to make the most exaggerated bow he'd ever see. You watch his brows change at the feeling of the paper in his hands, curiosity leaking out.

"Now open."

He does. Looking down at the envelope, he raises a brow and stares at it, as though it would open on command. He fingers the glued down flap of the letter and glances at you with hesitant eyes. "What is this?"

He pulls the glue free and begins to pull out two, just as long, slips of laminated paper. Looking up at you, he can see how bubbly you were with the excitement to show him your latest gifts. Or "bribes", as he liked to call them—all out of good fun!... you think.

The words pour from your lips. "Two backstage tickets to Metallica next week!" You bring it back once the biggest part of the reveal was said. "They're on tour, and I know you like them."

He stares at you with wide eyes, but he doesn't smile. You wait for his grateful reply for a while before what you are met with is a loud, "What?"

Your excitement turns to shivering fear as you stare, worried. "Is it the wrong band?" Suddenly, all the worst scenarios you worried about come to mind. "Shit, did I mess up?" You start mumbling to yourself. "I know I checked and then double checked. Maybe the tickets are wrong. Fuck, what did I do—?"

He stops you with his heavy hands on your shoulders, weighing you down but also providing a lot of comforting warmth as he looks you in the eye with the same level of intensity. "You got me V.I.P. tickets to see Metallica perform?"

"In Indianapolis, yes."

He stares at you a moment longer before he's shoving you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you flush against his body. The hug is warm and enveloping and much too close for friendship, and you hug him back just as closely, almost feeling as though you could cry of how wonderful it felt to have his scent all around you, his arms around your waist, his crazy hair tickling your face and shoulders.

After a beat too long, he's hoisting you off your feet and spinning you in a circle that has your body flying for a moment. He sets you down as you're both giggling, and when he pulls back to see you, his lips are set in the biggest smile you have ever seen. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at him, and whatever was left slips out when his thumbs smooth circles along your sides as his hands stay set on your waist.

"You are fucking amazing," he says too fondly.

You gaze warmly at him, feeling your heart skipping too many beats. You need to go to the hospital.

Then his whole demeanor changes once more as his face drops into near frustration. "And extravagant," he adds suddenly. "Why the fuck did you get these for me?"

You honestly expected his hands to leave you by now, but they stayed at your sides with the envelope held between his fingers. You set your hands on his arms, shrugging as you smile earnestly.

"For us," you say, hoping not to scare him away with that. "Because I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."

Eddie doesn't know what he's done to deserve something as special as this, but he just smiles down at it with the joy of a little boy getting a dog he's been wanting all his life for his birthday. You hear him curse under his breath.

"I gotta go tell Wayne," he beams. He scoops you into his arms again, squeezing tighter this time as he laughs happily, his elation infecting you. He sets you down, looking over your face. He's moving and speaking faster than you think he thinks he is, but it just makes you smile some more.

"Ah, I fuckin' love you. I'll see you later!" He tears away from you, turning around and sprinting toward his van to drive haphazardly down the road to get back to his uncle. He's waving at you through the window as he pulls away.

Meanwhile, you stand at the door with wide eyes and stilled breath, frozen on the porch. His words replay in your head like a mantra, like a prayer that you've been waiting for as you smile a little.

"He loves me," you sigh. Then you shake your head, hoping not to be as delusional as you feel. "Just a figure of speech..." you chew your lip, "probably..." you furrow your brows, "most likely."

You sigh as you shake and bow your head. "I'm talking to myself again."

You turn on your heel and set a course down the sidewalk, walking a few houses down with fast feet and an even quicker beating heart. Four doors down, you come up the path to Chrissy's house and start repeatedly pounding on the door, because it was more dramatic than letting yourself in.

You hear her as she approaches the door because she yells, "Y/N, I'm coming!"

The door opens and Chrissy stands on the other side with a raised brow and a sigh. She sees you standing there with your conflicted look as she furrows her brow. "What happened?"

You walk past her, venturing into the house and walking right up the stairs as she follows behind you, unphased as she closes the door. "I gave the tickets to Eddie."

"And?" she asks as she follows you up the stairs.

"He loved them," you say over your shoulder, shrugging. "He was, like, super excited."

She smiles wide, her whole face lights up. "That's great!"

You get to the top of the stairs on your way to her room, stopping at one of the doors prior and knocking gently before pushing it open. "Hi, Carter."

The boy looks at you and smiles wide, waving his hand as he returns his greeting. You smile back and close the door, instantly falling back into your contemplation as you burst into Chrissy's room and plopped down at the edge of her bed.

"So," she prompts. "Is it a date?"

You furrow your brow, granting her a confused look. "What? No, don't be ridiculous."

She rolls her eyes, "Right..."

"But he..." you trail off, chewing on your lower lip as you keep thinking to yourself, replaying the moment over and over and over again with the over-analysis of a skilled theorist.

"What?" she asks, urging you to finally spit it out.

"He, like," you look at her and release your lip in favor of speaking as you try and fail not to smile at the memory—as though it was a cherished thing that had been living in your brain for years. She follows the loose narration your hands give as you speak. "He picked me up and spun me around and said something about telling his uncle, and then..."

You hesitate to say it, hiding your face a little behind your hands. Chrissy sighs heavily, playfully impatient with your slowly developing, weird relationship with Eddie. "What? What did he do?"

You blush and smile too wide. Your face hurts. "He said 'I fuckin' love you', and then drove off." You're suddenly really giddy. "He said he fuckin' loves me!" You beam at Chrissy before quickly backtracking. "I know it was probably just a figure of speech or something, right? Like, he doesn't actually love me, he was just super happy. Heat of the moment. Right?"

This left your mouth as a word vomit and, honestly, Chrissy just watched you with a wide range of emotions crossing her face. Confusion, joy, passive frustration, hints of awaiting sarcasm...

She shrugs a shoulder, sitting next to you on the bed and attempting to soothe your scorching nerves. "I mean, probably, but you spend so much time together... who knows," she smiled wide suddenly, "maybe he's coming around."

Your grin is hopeful, your eyes glisten as you smile at her and she smiles wider and chuckles at the look. "You think so?"

"Sure!" she exclaims, eager to get you to the optimistic side of things.

"Maybe you're right," you nod to assure yourself, hoping that saying it out loud will bring it into existence. "Maybe you're right." You breathe in and out and sit up straight, nodding once more before you turn your gaze to Chrissy again. You take her hands in yours and squeeze gently. "The concert's next week, I need you to help me get ready."

"Absolutely," she beams. "You couldn't pay me not to help."

You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. Chrissy, a native to your affection, takes it with an excited laugh and no acknowledgement to your strength.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Of course," she smiles, before pulling out of your arms and waving a playfully scolding finger at your face. "But you owe me."

You shrug. "I always do." You think for a moment. "We'll get lunch and go to the mall. Check out that store you like. An outfit of your choice, my treat."

"Deal," she said immediately. Rolling her eyes and smiling, she sighs dreamily. "I love leeching off rich people."

You roll your own eyes, not as dreamily. "You're also rich, Chris."

She shrugs, letting her shoulders sag lazily at her sides like a ragdoll. "I know, but you're my bitch."

You gasp dramatically. "Christina Elizabeth Cunningham! You watch your language."

She snorts. "Bitch, please."

You shove her back onto the bed and start for her kitchen. You're hungry and you're sure she hasn't eaten yet...

~

You close your locker with a snap. As you look up, you notice Tommy H on the other side, staring you down with an unimpressed look upon his face. You can see the rest of his group surrounding his locker to peer into the conversation, looking like a flock of pigeons—all bulgy eyes and flicking heads.

You sigh internally and turn to him, smiling as sweetly as you always do. "Hey, Tommy." You check your watch quickly.

"Hi," he says back, feeling slick.

You move your bag from your side to place your science books in, glancing at him as you do it. "Is there something I can help you with? I gotta get to class."

He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one leg over the other and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lettermen. He shrugs his shoulders heavily, and your eyes fall on his Class of '85 patch—where it should now read '86 after an unfortunate grade point average in his last, slacked off year.

"You're hanging out with Munson now?" He raises a brow.

You sling your bag back over your shoulder. "Yeah?" You raised your brow, failing to see his point. "Is that supposed to be a problem or something?"

"I mean..." he trails off, laughing lightly like it's obvious. You just stare at him, almost looking clueless as he stumbles over his words to try and come up with an argument. He shrugs, "It's Munson."

You make a face. He scoffs.

"I mean, you seriously blew off a game for him?"

Oh. That makes more sense.

You've been hanging out with Eddie for months, and they haven't commented that much because you could do whatever you wanted because you... well, you're you.

But you did kiss the game last night. It wasn't a really serious one—at least, you don't think it was—and Eddie had a huge campaign he practically begged you to go to, and you accepted because you loved his campaigns way more than a stupid game (that, and the fact that you're head over heels in love with him). You told Chrissy, she covered for you.

You shrug. "We lost the game."

He scrambled for a comeback. "Yeah? Well, maybe we wouldn't have if you had been there. It's called moral support sweetheart."

You straighten your back and try not to make a face, continuing to remain friendly as you close your eyes. "First of all, don't call me that." He shrugs. "Second, there will be more games and more hangouts and whatever else. I'm hanging out with Eddie Munson, so what? He's my friend."

He scowls. "He's Eddie Munson."

You make a face, confusion raising your brow and lip. You pause, waiting for a follow-up. "You say that like it's supposed to prove a point."

Tommy scoffs. "Okay, how about this?" He towers over you, his elbow propped high up on your locker in an attempt to intimidate you. His red-freckled face is stern. "He's a freak."

He nearly spits the word in your face, and he smirks when he does it.

You tilt your head and smile.

"How about this..." You clear your throat and brush imaginary lint from his lettermen. "If you call Eddie a freak one more time," you look up at his face again, smiling a little sweeter and speaking a little slower, "I will personally see to it that my parents stop inviting yours to our parties."

His face pales.

"You'll be moved to our blacklist. From there, people will stop respecting you. And, by then, you'll be scrambling to get back in with us, and you'll look desperate doing it." Your eyes darken but your smile is perfectly intact as you watch his fear overcome him.

"I'll work you so far to the bottom that even the name Munson will hold less disdain in this town than Hagan." Your smile drops. You look cold.

"Do I make myself clear?"

He swallows thickly, finding his voice again after cracking on his first attempt. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yes."

"Great!" You clap once as you smile brightly once more. The warning bell cracks loudly, echoing through the halls with a shrill screech. Both you and the bell startle him as he flinches, sighing heavily as you pat your shoulder twice. "Thank you. Don't be late for class."

He hesitates, shaking his head and walking away to rejoin his posse pretending to not have been listening in to the conversation. "Yeah," he mumbles as you watch him leave.

"That was scary."

You turn and smile wide when you see Eddie, leaning on the lockers with an impressed look. "I can be very scary," you joke.

"Tell me about it." He rolls his eyes, and you lightly smack his shoulder at the insinuation. You both start walking down the hall to your shared science class. "What was that about?"

You glance over your shoulder to where Tommy and his friends are walking away, throwing half-hearted scowls at Eddie over their shoulders.

"Oh," you say, smiling to yourself almost maliciously. You shock Eddie for a moment with the brief look. "Just a little... nudge in the right direction."

His whole demeanor changes as he turns his body to face you, walking still as his feet side step to keep up with you. "Did you just threaten Tommy H for me?"

"'Course," you smile. "We're friends, Eddie, and I protect my friends... even if that means destroying social lives forever."

He sighs a laugh. "Startin' to think you like destroying social lives."

You both walk into class together just as the bell rings, moving to your seats as you lean in and whisper dramatically. "Only when they're assholes."

He gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "Has her majesty just spoiled her tongue with the dirty language of the peasants?" he exclaims quietly in his best posh, British accent.

"I'm afraid she has," you play along in an accent of your own, though it's not as perfect as his. He's got an impeccable accent. "It can be quite hard to keep one's tongue guarded when met with the incompetence of the lower class, or even that of the upper."

He snorted, "Then, forgive me, my liege. I shall do my best to keep you away from the clutches of the incompetent."

You both laugh quietly amongst yourselves.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he snorts again, shaking his head with a seeking shudder.

You wink at him. "Never get on my bad side."

You direct your attention to the teacher. Eddie watches the side of your face and laughs again, shaking his head and readjusting after spending too much time taking in the sight of the side of your face.

You're pretty. He hopes he never gets on your bad side.

~

With Chrissy out with Jason, you have no one to calm your nerves as the time for Eddie to come pick you up grows closer. You've already dressed in the clothes you both picked out, she'd done your makeup before she had to leave, and you're walking around your room in your heels as you await his arrival.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time before the sound of your doorbell echoes through the house. You grab your stuff faster than you've ever done anything in your life, rushing down the stairs dangerously fast in your heels and throwing the front door open before your father's hand can even brush the handle.

Upon seeing you answer, he decides to walk away. Whatever you want...

You open the door and smile wide at Eddie, ignoring how nervous you feel at the sight of yourself. You feel sort of...out of place. This isn't your vibe but you are hoping he likes it anyway.

Eddie's eyes bulge and his mouth drops open.

He takes you in. Dressed head to toe in leather, he eyes your little red skirt and your black bustier top decorated with red roses. It looks so tight, he wonders how you're still able to breathe. You've got a garter belt wrapped tightly around your thigh, just peeking out from under your skirt, in more black leather. In knee high platforms, you've gone up a couple more inches in height. Even your makeup, with sharp wings, a tiny eyeliner heart on the apple of your cheek, and red lipstick a dark shade of blood.

Eddie feels like he just fell fifty feet and smacked his face on concrete, knocking all the air from his lungs and making it impossible to breathe. You are drop dead gorgeous.

"Wow."

You don't take it as well as he expected, nerves sinking in as you look over yourself quickly, wiping your hands down the skirt. "Too much?"

He shakes his head. "You look..." he trails off, lost in thought before shaking his head to bring himself back, "great. Really great."

You take it for what it is and smile. "Thanks," you blush. "Chrissy helped. You don't look half bad yourself."

And you mean it. He's in nearly as much leather as you. With black leather pants that cling to his body like chains, lacing running up the sides that seem to make them even tighter, he looks like a rockstar in his old Metallica muscle tee (the one where the logo is so faded, you can hardly see it).

You're not surprised to see his leather jacket and his battle vest, nor are you to see him wearing his own eyeliner, an extra edge you've seen during his concerts at the Hideout—though yours is admittedly done better. His hair is frizzier than ever, a look you tried to copy as well as you could but believe you fell short on (Eddie thinks your aces).

Eddie shakes his head. "Wow," he mumbles again, more breathless this time.

"You said that already."

"My bad," he says, not meaning it.

You shake your head and smile sweetly. "No, it's nice."

After staring again for too long, he clears his throat and smiles again, returning to his stupid antics that make you laugh constantly, like you've gone insane.

"You ready to go?" he asks.

"Yeah." You turn and yell into the house, cupping your hands around your mouth as you do it. "Bye, Daddy! Bye, Mom!"

Your mother's voice calls back, "Be back by sundown."

"What your mother said," says your father.

You close the door and walk with Eddie. "Uhm," he says. "We will not be back by sundown."

"It doesn't matter," your shrug. "They say it more as a courtesy. They'll forget I'm even gone."

"Ah," he mutters, though you don't seem too fazed by it. Almost like this is the norm for you. Maybe it is...

He takes you to his van, opening your door like a gentleman and loading you in. He hops into his own seat, slamming his door extra hard because it's been pretty stubborn lately.

As soon as he starts the engine, his music blares through the speakers, "Holy Diver" by Dio. You flinch, shocked by the sound but not upset. He immediately goes to turn it down, and once he's dialed it one way, you dial it the other.

Eddie looks over at you, your head already banging to the music as you rock enthusiastically in your seat. He stares at you, his parted lips curling in a grin. He thinks you're amazing.

"Are we going?" you ask half-jokingly when you catch him staring, speaking so loud you nearly blow your vocal chords trying speak over the music. You poke his side.

He over-exaggerates, recoiling in on himself and flailing back against his window like he'd been shot. You roll your eyes. And he lays there for a while, really dragging it out until you lightly smack his shoulder. The music blares.

"Eddie!"

"Ow– Hey!" he exclaims, even though you barely touched him.

You shake your head. "Drive."

"Okay, bossy," he says. He turns the music down just a bit and starts down the road. It's still loud, and your parents might get a complaint, but it's unlikely because the neighbors would be too afraid of offending them.

He nods lightly to the music, turning it down another smudge to ask, "You hungry?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes. He's going to give you a hernia.

"Not much," you shrug. "You?"

He also shrugs, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the wheel. He leans on his right arm rest, glancing over at you. "I'm always down for food," he winks. "But we could probably wait 'til we get there."

"If you wanna eat, we can."

He shakes his head. "Nag, we'll have a shit ton of free time. We'll be, like," he checks the time, "three hours early."

You snort. He's usually three hours late.

"Okay," you nod. You turn to him, smiling. "Oh, we could check out this new place my parent's friend's daughter told me about."

He laughs lightly, "Is she not your friend?"

You shrug a shoulder. As far as your friendships go, you recognize you don't really have many. Chrissy is the love of your life, as you tell her constantly, but she's the only person you've held close to your heart for years.

But your parents are rich. Their friends' kids are supposed to be your friends, but you've never acclimated to that thinking.

"Eh," you mumble. "We don't really consider ourselves friends, we just know each other." Her parents are also rich, and she's within the same category as you.

He hums. "Yeah, we can check it out." He sets his hand closer to yours, his pinky brushing yours. To avoid seeming too intimate, not wanting to complicate the friendship you've created, he wraps his pinky with yours and shakes it around.

Not intimate, just friendly.

"Is it fancy?"

You shake your head. "Not really." I squeeze his finger, grabbing his hand in both yours and forming his to lace your fingers together. "My parents and their rich friends spoil me with expensive stuff all the time, so I like the cheaper stuff a little more."

You purse your lips, looking away from your hands to look at his face. "But I don't like telling people that because I feel like I sound bratty."

He shakes his head. "Nah, you're not bratty." He lets go of your hand and lightly nudges the side of your face with his palm. You snort, swatting his hand away. "You're just bossy."

"Shut up," you laugh.

His face lights up at the proof of him being right. "See?" he laughs. "You're bossy. You're so bossy!"

You roll your eyes at him, "If you weren't driving, I'd hit you."

His eyes widen. "You're violent," he accuses. "You're violent now!"

You groan loudly, turning away from him with the most exaggeration you can manage. He laughs loudly. It's a ridiculous guffaw, and you feel the van swerve a little. You're so used to his driving by now, though, that it doesn't faze you.

When his laughter dies down and you're urge to burst into your own fit of giggles eases with it, he sighs dramatically to announce the end of his joke. "So," he hums, "if I gave you the choice to go someplace fancy with the best steak in town or a McDonald's," he leans toward you, tearing his eyes from the road at a stoplight to look at you, "what are you picking?"

You let a slow smile spread across your lips as you look at his stupid face with his stupid eyes and his stupid nose, and his stupid lips. You chuckle lightly, taking him in some more. "Well, you can't beat those nuggets."

He laughs again, still just as loud and dramatic as the first one. You love it, and you can't help but to laugh with him this time.

"No, you can't." He smiles at you, staring at your face a little longer than he probably should.

Eddie jumps when a loud honk interrupts his examination. Turning to the light, he sees that it is a very bright green. "Shit," he curses under his breath as he steps on the gas.

The van jolts, but your gaze lingered on him too long to notice. A slip of anxiety creeps up on you as a thought flashes behind your eyes. You hook your finger through one of the holes in your fishnets. You lean on your armrest. "Was that your way of asking me out, or am I dreaming?" You say it with enough amusement coloring your voice that it gives you the option to back out of it as a joke as soon as it is required.

And it was required.

"Fast asleep, Princess," he smiles, chuckling lightly as his eyes stay on the road in front of him. You ignore the stutter in your heart, covering your disappointment with a chuckle of your own and roll your eyes.

"Playing hard to get, huh?" you joke, trying not to be too sad about his lack of falling in love with you. You've still got him, even if you don't have him in your arms.

Eddie's fingers reach for the dashboard as he turns up the radio, turning the heavy rock up louder and louder. "What?" he shouts over the music, drowning your giggles in the song (though he can still hear them because he's listening very specifically for them). "I can't hear you over the music. What did you say?"

You smack his shoulder, giddy with his jokes. "Asshole!" you exclaim, crossing your arms in a faux pout. You both laugh out loud, big and dramatic and happy to be there. And as he turns down the radio before he blows your precious eardrums, he finds himself oddly tender with the sound of your joy. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he has to breathe a little more to steady his traitor of a heart.

~

You're nearly late, despite arriving there a whole hour early. Eddie had found a McDonald's and got so caught up in taking you that you both lost the time. You were in the middle of wiping Sweet N Sour sauce off his face when you realized it on the hands of your watch.

You almost got pulled over twice.

But you get there just as the lights are dimming. It's a huge opener—guitars and drums and screaming vocals, fans cheering and crying, headbanging and jumping and a couple of already too-drunk patrons puking in the back.

Eddie is ecstatic. He loves every part of it—the screaming, the crying, the puking. He takes it all in stride and stands really close to you as he does it.

He keeps looking at your face. Through the haze of flashing lights and so much excitement his heart might stop, he keeps looking at your face. You're really pretty, dressed in his style, smiling like a maniac, dancing to his music.

He was so scared you would hate it, this scene, his scene. He was scared you were going to show up and stand uncomfortably, smile in that people-pleasing way and bear through it until it was over.

But you don't.

You're beautiful. You glow under the lights, you're wonderful as you dance and sway and headbang to hell.

You keep smiling at him. You keep grabbing his hands and jumping to the beat of the music, and he jumps with you and he holds your hands. He can't help but adore you.

Part of him hopes it doesn't stick. He's not sure he could handle his heart beating this fast.

By the time the concert is over, you're both sweaty and hyped and tired but so happy. You both flash your VIP passes—you more confidently than him—and rush backstage with all the other VIPs.

He's buzzing with excitement as his sweaty hand shakes that of each member of the band. He does it wide-eyed, gleaming and entirely unbelieving. If his other hand was gripping yours, he'd think this was a dream.

A really freaky, amazing dream.

You both get shirts, personal autographs, and a lifelong experience that you load into his van with buzzing and heavy limbs. He helps you in, closing your door like a gentleman, and you slump against your seat.

Eddie gets in, slamming his door shut because it's a little stubborn. He starts the engine and turns the radio down all the way to a gentle background hum.

He doesn't turn his eyes toward you until he's pulled out of the insanity that is leaving the parking lot. When he glances over at you, you're asleep.

He'd wanted to thank you.

You're really pretty like this: eyes delicately closed, lips slightly parted. Granted, you're always pretty.

He has to look away before his chest starts hurting again.

Fuck.

He looks away from you quickly, gripping the wheel to get a handle on himself. He didn't mean to do this, to like you. Being friends was one thing, becoming best friends was another...

But actually starting to like you...

He isn't supposed to. You don't live in his world. He doesn't live in yours. More than that...

Actually, he's not sure. He just knows that... he wasn't supposed to begin liking you. His feelings for you were supposed to remain platonic.

But now he's not so sure.

There are a couple things he's sure of though.

You're beautiful, dressed like a metalhead or a cheerleader, you're beautiful. And he adores you, inside and out. And he wants you to know that.

~

"Hey, Princess."

You turn, giving Eddie a wide smile as he walks up to your locker. He's got his hand behind his back in an obvious, and you laugh at that as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. "Hi, Eddie."

He leans on your locker, nervous and proud at the same time as he smiles. His hair is freshly washed—still damp and curly with conditioner. It'll be fully frizzed by the end of the day, you know it.

"I got you something. Well, I made you something," he says. "Close your eyes." You do as you're told, smiling as you do. "Give me your hand."

You're almost giddy as you lift it, presenting it to him. He sets something in your palm. It's light, your brows furrow.

"Okay, open."

You do, looking at your palm. Your smile falls a little as you look at it. A bracelet made with black leather, braided together with a few little silver beads woven in. You look at the silver charm. A skull with a crown on it.

He made this himself.

"Eddie..." You swallow thickly, blinking quickly so you aren't crying your mascara off. People don't do things like this for you—no one but Chrissy.

"Do you hate it?" There's an anxiety there that kick-starts your heart. He braces himself for a 'yes' before you have to remind him that you're you, and you're deeply in love with him.

"I love it," you urge him, using your best smile to convince him of that fact. "It's beautiful."

Hope sparks in his eyes. He smiles a bit. "Really?"

"Yeah!" you promise. "I'll wear it forever."

You shove it in his hand, and he immediately understands your request without you even having to ask. You hold out your wrist as he fastens the bracelet on. It's a perfect fit.

You coo as you look at it. "I really love this, Eddie..." Then suddenly, "Oh! This reminds me. I got this for you–"

"No, no," he stops you, holding out a hand as you reach into your locker. "This was a gift. I'm gifting this to you."

You slump slightly, your smile falling into a confused frown as you sigh. "But..." you fiddle with the charm, "I wanna pay you back."

He shakes his head, not unkindly. "No need. I technically owe you a lot, I'm sure those tickets were expensive as hell."

You're feeling a little...nervous. No one refuses gifts from you, ever—except Chrissy, when they're really excessive. But this isn't. It's just an Iron Maiden vinyl record, one of those limited addition ones you have to really look for.

Your parents had bought it a while back at an auction because a lot of people were bidding on it. But it just sits in a case in the living room collecting dust—they don't listen to that kind of music. They only got it because a lot of people wanted it.

Eddie would like it. He'd appreciate it...

"But–"

"No buts," he says, his tone final. "Let me do this for you."

You pull your hand away from your locker, sighing. You nod slowly, offering a weak smile. "Okay..."

This isn't the last time that happens. Through the next few weeks, Eddie keeps declining your gifts. You try to give him the record, but before you can even get the words "I got you something" past your lips, he's telling you that you don't need to get him anything and giving you his own gift instead.

You feel like you've done something wrong.

He's giving you a lot of gifts. It's becoming harder and harder to accept them, but you couldn't stand refusing one of the presents he's made specially or used hard-earned money on for you. You couldn't do that to him, it would break his heart. But...

It's a lot of gifts. And he isn't even letting you repay the favor to make it even.

There's a problem. You just don't know what. So you do the only thing you can do.

You ask Chrissy.

You walk up the steps to Chrissy's house, pushing the door open and heading straight up the stairs.

"Hello, Y/N," Chrissy's father calls, not lifting his eyes from his newspaper.

"Hi, Mr. Cunningham." You go down the hall, barging through Chrissy's door and closing it tightly behind you. She steps out of her closet, her brows furrowed as she looks at you. Though she's unsurprised.

She does this to you almost as often as you do to her, though you have admittedly more drama than her. You're more radioactive than she is.

"We have a crisis." You plop down on her bed.

She leans on the frame of her closet door, crossing her arms over her chest. "What crisis?"

You lay down, covering your face with your hands and, in doing so, muffling your words. "I think Eddie's mad at me."

She understands you perfectly. "Why?" she asks as she walks over and sets her hands on your thighs, leaning over you. You look at her. "What happened?"

"He's not taking any of my gifts anymore!" You sit up on your hands, but she doesn't move. "I'm trying to give him stuff 'cause he keeps getting me stuff. I mean, whenever I'm mad at my parents, and they try to bribe me to get over it, I just don't accept their gifts."

She shrugs. "Okay," she thinks. She moves off of you, walking back to her closet. "But why would he give you things if he was mad at you?" She disappears inside. "Besides, what have you done?"

You stand, following her in. She's sifting through her wardrobe, looking for her outfit for tomorrow. She does it every day, usually with your help.

"I don't know!" you sigh, looking through her choice of skirts. "That's why I'm worried. I don't know what I've done, and guys are weird."

She holds up two skirts to show you: one short and flowy pale blue and one bright pink two sizes too small. You hum, picking the blue. The pink doesn't suit her skin anyway.

"Or maybe," you continue, "maybe he thinks I'm mad at him, and that's why he keeps giving me stuff."

She shakes her head. "I think you're reading too much into this, babe."

Your head shake is far more intense than hers. "I am reading perfectly into this. I show my love by buying people things, I gift give! I'm basically Santa as a teenage girl. Here." You pass her a white shirt, long sleeved and pretty.

She takes it. "Thanks." Then she hums. "Interesting analogy."

You shrug, sitting on the little stool in her closet with a sigh. "I mean, how would Santa feel if kids just...stopped taking his gifts and started giving him a whole bunch of them?"

Probably special, Chrissy thinks.

"He'd be frantic!"

Chrissy can't help but giggle lightly at that. She loves you, but you're a little ridiculous sometimes. She shakes her head and turns to you and picks up two pairs of shoes. She holds them up as she kneels in front of you, showing them off. "Have you tried talking to him?"

You choose the white sneakers over the black flats. "I don't want to say something bad and mess this up." You rest your chin in your hand. "We were doing so well."

She sighs, setting both pairs down. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

You sigh. "You're right." And then you stand. "It's worse."

She stands and places her hands on your shoulders, making you sit again. "Okay, maybe you're exaggerating this a little bit."

Your shoulders slump. "Am I?"

"Yes." She laughs lightly to take the weight off it. She breathes in slowly. "Take a breath. Calm down."

She takes your head and takes you back into her bedroom, making you sit on the bed. She sits across from her, her legs crossed as she sways some hair behind her ear. She takes your hands.

"Eddie is not rich, he doesn't have a lot of money like your family," she begins to explain. "People who are not rich don't always enjoy accepting gifts because it makes them feel like they're inconveniencing you."

Your brows pull together, and you frown. "He's not an inconvenience."

"I know," she smiles. It looks beautiful on her. "He's already gotten so much stuff from you, plus those tickets? I'm not surprised he's trying to pay you back. He's not going to let you give him anything else until he feels like he has."

You assume the worst, looking down at your joined hands and sighing. "So that we're even, and he can stop feeling obligated to be friends with me."

"No," she urges. "So he can stop thinking that you might think he's using you for your money." She shrugs, "He probably just feels bad."

You think about her reasoning. Her explanation actually makes way more sense than your own.

"Yeah," she says. "Just talk to him. I'm sure it's just that."

You sigh, covering your face. "This is so weird."

She takes your wrists, pulling them away. Her voice takes on an annoyed tone. You can practically hear her eye rolls. "Because most of the people who are 'friends' with you are only friends because you buy them nice things."

You nod. "Yeah."

"Except for me, of course," she smiles, almost proudly.

You chuckle. "Except for you."

She sighs, letting go of you and shoving you to stand. "Go talk to Eddie."

You take a breath. "Okay..." You give her your best smile. "Thanks, Chris. You're the best." You kiss her cheek on the way out as you turn toward the door.

"I know," she says matter-of-factly. "Love you."

You open her door, peering your head in. You kiss at her. "Love you back."

She begins to stand. "Also," she looks back at you, tilting her head, "tell your bitch mom to stop shrinking your clothes so she can loosen them. She's an ugly old hag–"

"Y/N!"

"–and you're beautiful and perfect, and I love you. I'm serious, I'll beat her ass."

"Leave!" She closes the door in your face, but you know she's laughing on the other side, grateful for your comments.

~

Eddie is sitting on the porch with his acoustic when you drive up. The engine halts when you pull out your key, standing and closing the door behind you. He likes your car. It's sleek and beautiful. Very expensive because your parents bought it for you when you first got your license.

He keeps strumming his guitar as you make your way up the stairs. "Hey, Princess," he greets you.

"Hey," you mutter, the nerves grabbing at your throat as you come to stand next to him. You fidget with your fingers, sitting next to him on the bench.

"Eds, can we talk?"

He hums, still strumming. "About what?" When you don't respond, he looks up at you. He stops, moving his guitar off his lap with furrowed brows.

"Woah," he says, noticing your worried face. "What's wrong?"

You take a moment to think, sighing as you try to figure out what you were going to say. You rehearsed it in the car, thoroughly, and it's all blanking staring at his wide eyes, brown as coffee.

"Are you mad at me?"

He looks confused. "Why would you think that?" He grabs your hand, and you don't know if you're imagining his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Because you aren't letting me gift you things."

He doesn't do what you expect—though you're not entirely sure what you were expecting. Eddie smiles, a wide thing that splits his face in two. His eyes almost look like they're shining as he looks at you. You don't feel patronized when he does it, either. It's oddly warming.

"You think I'm mad at you because I'm not letting you gift me things?" he clarifies, almost shocked, though he knows he shouldn't be.

So he's not mad at you? That makes you feel a little better...

"Well," you sigh. "When my parents and I argue, they buy me things to make me feel better. I always say no."

He softens, smiling gently and taking your hand between his. "Sweetheart," he says slowly, "I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you to think I only like you for your money, especially after that concert. That's a huge gesture for someone you only started hanging out with two months ago."

You sigh, looking away from his eyes to think. Chrissy was right, he feels guilty for accepting your gifts. This whole thing is new to you. You're so used up from serving everybody else. Now someone is trying to serve you, and you completely mistook it for anger...

"I'm not used to that," you admit.

"To what?"

You shrug, "People not accepting gifts from me... other than Chrissy." You smile a little, but it falls quickly. Sighing, you look back up at him, squeezing his hands just a slight. "Most of my friends are friends because I bought them their prom tickets last year or invited them to a party or something."

Eddie smiles again. He seems to scoot closer to you, both your thighs squishing together and leaving no space between your bodies. He nudges your shoulder and then pushes you away a bit because he's too affectionate. "I don't like you because you have money and buy me nice things." He chuckles lightly. "Actually, the reason I didn't like you in the first place was because you have money and buy people nice things."

You smile a little and Eddie feels like the special-est person on Earth. He knows it's silly and too affectionate but he can't help it. Eddie's crooked finger hooks underneath your chin and lifts it to look right at him. "I like you for you."

It's moments like these when your love for Eddie can't be measured. It's moments like these when your love for Eddie feels more mature than a schoolgirl crush. It's that moment when you're imagining more than parties or prom or dates or celebrations, when your mind is full of thoughts of sitting quietly in the living room or watching a movie at three o'clock in the afternoon because it's a stay-at-home-day or fixing dinner as he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder or reading a book while he scratches his head and files taxes at the kitchen table.

You smile fondly, and Eddie thinks you're the strongest whiskey because he gets dizzy at the sight of you.

"Really?" you mumble, your voice soft and sweet.

"Yeah," he nods. "You're awesome, sweetheart."

You love when Eddie calls you 'Princess' in that funny, affectionate way, but when he calls you 'sweetheart; you lose all your senses in the blink of an eye.

"Really?" It's the only thing you can think to say.

"Absolutely."

"Okay..."

Then you get brave—as brave as you can get. Licking your bottom lip, you look down at your lap and smile nervously. To have to gather the courage to look him in the eye as you smile gently at him. "You know how you can repay me for the concert?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "How?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, another breath for courage—"Go to prom with me?"

Eddie's smile falls. "I-"

"You don't have to go as my date. I just don't want to go alone," you say quickly, trying not to trap him or manipulate him or make him think you're trying to do either. "Chrissy's going with Jason, and I don't want to be a third wheel..." You sigh, looking him in the eyes and feeling your heart palpitating.

"Please?"

You're going to kill him one day, he's sure of it. The way his heart kicks at the sight of your pleading eyes is fatal, and he knows it because he can feel it in his chest. He sighs. It's his own fault. He let you be friends, and now he's head over heels...

"...Sure," he agrees. When you beam at him, the largest grin he's ever seen in his life, it's all worth it, his stupidity. "We'll go together."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says. "Just two friends...going to prom."

You'll take that. You would take a million "just two friends" over "we don't talk anymore". You'd do anything for him. "Yeah," you smile. "Thanks, Eds."

It's all worth it to see you smile. "No problem."

~

Eddie's nervous. You can tell in the way he keeps bumping into you. You would dismiss it as just the way the place is crowded, stocked to the brim with sweaty bodies, some already drunk in the first hour and others high.

Eddie's been to parties before, obviously. He's done senior year three times, of course he's been to parties.

But he's not used to being around so many people and not being stared at. Almost no one is looking at him.

"Why are we going to this thing again?" he'd asked as you were getting ready.

You shrugged. "It's pre-prom."

"But there's actual prom."

You smoothed out your lipstick before you turned to him. "Yeah, but actual prom is kinda boring 'cause of the family-friendly rules. Pre-prom is hosted by students with no real adult supervision, so...less boring." You shrugged again, turning away to fix a stray hair. "Besides, I have to make an appearance. Me and Chrissy since we're in the running for Prom Queen. Otherwise, we get no votes."

"People'll vote for you anyway," he smiled.

"I always just want a drink or two."

He laughed a little. "We can just go to my place then." When you shook your head and laughed at him, he did the same. "Why am I going?"

"Because you have to. 'Cause you're my date." You turned quickly, eyes wide and hands out, "My plus one." You think about it for a moment. "My friend-date."

"Your date," he agrees, nodding and laughing and hoping you don't freak out because he called himself your date when you're just going as friends. Just friends.

"Yeah, I'll go with you, Princess." He sighs dramatically so he doesn't sound too wistful.

But now he wishes he'd convinced you to just go to his place and lounge on his couch, watching stupid movies and eating popcorn and then throwing popcorn at the screen when they do something stupid.

He holds your hand. You squeeze it, pulling him further inside with you and comforting him with all you have.

It becomes easier when you find Chrissy. Chrissy is very welcoming and helps you help Eddie settle because she's sweet and you're sweet and he loves you—your sweetness—he loves your sweetness.

When he has a beer in his hand—his only beer tonight, he's decided—and your hand in his other, he's laughing and letting you dance around him. Some people get upset with him when he accidentally bumps into them, and others give him dirty looks for the sake of giving dirty looks, but under the light in your eyes, he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice.

He watches your nose scrunch up in that adorable way that means you're truly happy. He keeps looking at you with the fondest eyes and the gentlest touches and the most wonderful smiles. You can't take it—he's so pretty with his doe eyes and smile lines and long lashes and his big nose and crazy hair and plump lips.

"Quit smiling at me," you giggle, pulling on his hand in yours. "I can't focus when you look at me like that."

"Like what?" he laughs. Then he makes a face, his eyes going wide and his smile showing all his teeth and his brows pulling together goofily. "Like this?"

"No, not like that," you laugh, smacking his shoulder lightly. He hears a squeak in your giggle and is thrown into his own fit. All your best laughs have squeaks in them. "Go back to how you were!"

You're both too sweet on each other, and he laces your fingers together to make sure you can't go away—even though you'd never.

"Oh, so now you want me to look at you?" he hums.

"Just not like a crazy person." He pulls you in so you're flat against his chest, and you don't have time to let your breath hitch until he's spinning you out again.

"How does a crazy person look?" He sets his beer down, pushing his hands into his hair and shaking it up. It sticks out all kinds of ways, a total mess.

"Like that," you nod dramatically.

"Like that?"

"Yeah." You add to the madness, your fingers carding through his hair. "Certified insane. It's a good look on you."

He snorts, fixing his hair again, "Yeah, I think so, too." When it's only in slight disarray, he sighs and looks down at you.

Eddie thinks you're beautiful. He likes your hair and your face and your soft hands and your pretty lips and bright eyes. He wants to hug you, but he'll settle for taking your hand when he realizes he's been staring at you for too long.

He starts pulling you with him as he walks. "Come on. I–"

A surprised gasp forces its way from your chest. You don't have time to process what's happening until after it's done. All you know is that it gets really cold and wet, and now your white dress is stained a bright red.

A round of snickering is heard above you. You look up to see a group of boys laughing obnoxiously over the stairs, a large bowl once filled with punch braced in their hands as they do. Everyone stands in shock, all talk ceasing when they see the sight of you drenched in red and these boys cracking up from it. It takes them a moment to catch wise...

Eddie is the first one to snap out of the shock, ignoring his hand, sleeve, and shoes just as wet. He mumbles something under his breath. Even in the relative silence, you don't make out the tiny "baby" that slips from his lips.

He sees your bottom lip tremble, your lashes already clumped with punch now clumping with the oncoming tears. The sudden urge to make everything okay again fills every inch of his bones. And as he looks up at these boys who'd hurt you, he wants nothing more than to let his fist meet pompous cheekbones.

"Tommy?" Your voice is meek, wavering with a brimming sorrow.

The other boys stop laughing immediately, looking down at you as their eyes fill with shock...and even fear. Tommy H, the main culprit, isn't so quick. When he notices their sudden change, he looks down as well.

That was meant for Eddie. Not you.

Now he knows fear.

Eddie watches your face contort even more until you're crying, tears falling down your cheeks and adding to the mess. He reaches out for your face, but you don't seem to notice as you rush past him, sniffles and all.

Eddie doesn't even get to shoot Tommy a threatening glare. He completely forgets about him for the moment in favor of following you through the house and out of the door, his shoes squeak-squeaking behind him.

He guesses you notice him following, because you reach a hand out behind you and catch his as you continue running out. Everyone parts ways, letting you pass without trouble. Eddie hears shouting behind him but keeps after you without a second thought.

You make it all the way to his van, parked outside in the crowded mess of cars and trucks. He opens the back doors for you so you can sit properly. You do, dropping your face in your hands as your chest heaves and you sob.

"Are you okay?" he asks, almost frantically. He runs his hands through your hair and gets you to look up at him so he can see your face clearly. It's covered in tears and punch and running mascara.

That same silent "oh, baby," passes his lips again, but you can hardly see the movement of it through your tears, so it's lost on you once more. Eddie's hands move to cradle your face. You keep sniffling, letting your body shake with shuddering breaths.

A horrible feeling curls in his chest. "Jesus," he mutters ruefully. "I should go back there and beat his ass."

He looks in the direction of the house, but you're already stopping him. "No, wait," you sniff. "It's okay."

But he's pissed. "No, it definitely is not okay–"

He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening forcefully. You both turn to see what's happening. As soon as you see Tommy H's freckled face, you hide in Eddie's chest. His gentle hands keep you there, rubbing and comforting you.

Tommy's running. He and the friends who hadn't escaped bolt from the house faster than Eddie thinks he's ever seen anyone run.

Someone hollers inside, and suddenly the entire football team is chasing after the boys, shouting and whooping and out for blood in the cover of street lamps in the night.

Directly behind them, Chrissy, Steve Harrington, and some brown-haired girl, stand by the door. They look after the boys but ultimately turn toward you. Chrissy doesn't look at all worried.

Eddie's attention is caught by a shouting voice.

"Y/N!" Jason Carver yells. "Do you need a ride home?"

You look up from Eddie's chest, wipe your face a little, and shake your head. "No. Eddie's taking me." You sniffle pitifully, "But thank you, Jason."

He nods, "No problem." Turning to Eddie, he raises his finger in a harsh point. "Take her home safe, Munson, or I'll skin you like a cat." He turns in the direction they're running, still in sight. He shouts loudly. "You better fucking run, you son of a bitch!"

"Hey, it's okay," you say, "You can let Tommy go." Eddie looks at you, obviously disagreeing, but says nothing.

Jason makes a face. "Why would I do that?" Then he's off again, shouting after the team and the runners.

You look toward the figures walking toward you and Eddie. Chrissy shakes her head gently, seemingly amused (only to you) but not smiling. Steve's expression is completely different, as he looks genuinely concerned but ultimately sympathetic. The other girl looks worried.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks, setting his hands on his hips and leaning.

You nod, wiping your nose and rubbing your hands on your wet clothes. It's not coming out. "Yeah..." you mumble, squeezing a couple tears out.

He sighs, "Tommy's way outta line for that one. I'm sorry, princess."

Eddie gets jealous for a moment that he's called you by his name for you before he remembers... Everyone calls you princess. It's basically your name.

"S'okay."

You glance at the girl, who gives a small nervous smile. She mouths silently, "I'm Robin." You give her the best smile you can manage. "Hope you're okay," she says gently.

Chrissy nods gently to herself. She shoots you a look, "Don't catch a cold." She looks at Eddie. "Get home safe. Both of you. Bye, babe."

You wave at her, a tiny lift of your hand from your lap. Another tear slips down your cheek.

"Come on, sweetheart."

Eddie braces a hand behind your back and eases you to stand. You do, taking his hand and letting him lead you. Steve pats his back gently before he's stepping away. Eddie closes the back door and opens your own like a gentleman. The three wave their goodbyes and start back toward the house.

He closes your door and goes to his side. The engine roars to life after having to twist the key a couple times. He starts driving. You're really quiet.

Eddie reaches a hand down and sets it gently on your knee, hoping it's not weird but also too worried about you to care. "Are you okay, Princess?"

You nod. "Yeah." You take in a large breath.

He shakes his head, his hand flexing on the wheel. "Why would you want them to let him go?" He hates the idea of someone hurting you and getting away with it. You deserve so much more.

"Hm?" You look at him, wiping the tears in your eyes. "Oh, I don't." You clear your throat and sniff. As you lick your lips, your face scrunches at the taste of alcoholic punch and lipstick. Eddie watches you try to wipe your face clean as best you can with your hands.

Your face scrunches. "Shit, I'm all sticky now."

Eddie's going to get whiplash.

"What?"

"Hm?" you look at him again. All evidence of your crying is gone. Your teary eyes are now only slightly watering, with your face kind of clean, no new fresh tears take their place. The sadness is wiped clean. You look back at him with the least amount of sorrow he's ever seen on you.

When you feel the van turning, you say his name and it swerves back in place. He puts his other hand back on the wheel.

"You were faking it?"

Suddenly, you smile. Eddie can't stand you.

"Of course," you say, shrugging. "It's just punch."

He sighs, feeling a little stupid but mostly just...amused. And really fucking relieved. He hates seeing you cry. You deserve so much more.

"I thought you were upset."

You laugh and he no longer has any reason to be upset. "No," you chuckle, "but Tommy's not happy."

He shakes his head. "I'm so confused."

You smile and sigh gently. "Thomas Hagan just poured a whole punch bowl on me—" you make doe eyes, "—the sweet, innocent princess of Hawkins—and then laughed his ass off like it was the funniest shit in the world." You shake your head, not at all upset. "He's not coming back from that."

Eddie smiles slowly. You're enjoying this. "You little–"

"He'll be blacklisted. No more hangouts, no more parties. He's done."

Eddie can't believe you. "Manipulative."

You pinch your fingers slightly and smile as you look through them. "Just a little."

"You're seriously not upset?" he wonders.

You're drenched head to toe, your hair is clumpy, your skin is sticky, your makeup is running all over your face, and your dress is forever ruined. But you're smiling like all is well with the world.

Again, you shrug. "I'll have to take a long shower now, but I'm okay."

He snorts lightly. "I bet."

You lean in slowly, smirking and bobbing your brows. "Never get on my bad side." A reminder. The one he asked for the last time Tommy had done something unbecoming.

And Eddie laughs. Not because he doesn't take you seriously, but because he just likes you so much. You are... everything to him.

Doing his best to keep his eyes on the road, he laughs loudly and fills the van with the sound of it. You get giddy at accomplishing such a feat and can't help but laugh with him. It's loud and obnoxious and just what you both needed. Warmth blooms in your chest, despite the cold shivers coming in, and you couldn't be happier.

~

Eddie pulls up on the curb, opening your door—like a gentleman—and helping you out. You mumble a quick apology about his sticky seats, to which he replies that those seats have seen worse. You don't know what he means, but you're hoping your idea is wrong.

In the driveway, yours and your dad's cars are parked and idle. Your mother is gone on a business trip—her boss' secretary—so he's probably home alone.

"Play it cool," you whisper to Eddie as you get to the door, messing with your sticky hair to make it look worse than it is. "How do I look?"

"Terrible," he lies.

"Great," you beam. You let your face fall immediately, and you look pitifully pretty.

You take Eddie's hand and let him open the door for you. As he's closing it, you glance around. "Daddy?"

"Yes, honey." You hear his footsteps as he enters the foyer. He turns the corner, "I thought you would be out longer–"

He looks up, stopping abruptly as he realizes what a mess you are. He furrows his brows, walking closer. "What happened to you?" He goes in to hug you, pausing when he sniffs. "Why do you smell like that?"

"Just..." you sniffle and Eddie watches a tear slip down your cheek. He thinks you're ridiculous, and he loves every moment of it. "Something happened at the party."

He picks up your hands and holds them in his palms. "What happened?"

You shake your head, looking down at the buttons of his shirt. Eddie stands close behind you, a hand on your back for support. It's warm, and you like the feeling of it. "Nothing."

"No," your father hums, tilting your chin up to look at him, "tell me."

You take in a big breath and let it out in a sigh. Your bottom lip trembles. "Tommy H," you confess. "He poured punch over my head on top of the stairs." You will more tears from your eyes. Your breath hitches, and you shake your head, "I'm sure it was an accident... He probably didn't mean to do it."

Technically, he didn't. It was meant for Eddie. But that's no better. You did warn him.

He raises a brow. "It looks like he spilled the whole bowl on you." He looks at his hand, red fruit punch staining his palm now.

You nod, a slow up and down that has him frowning deeper.

"Hey," he hums. "He won't mess with you anymore."

"Really?"

He nods, holding your chin. "Of course. No one messes with my little girl and gets away with it. We're cutting him off."

Bingo.

You shake your head, "It's okay. You don't have to do that."

He smiles gently, "But I will." He nudges your chin gently before letting you go. "Go get washed up."

He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and begins wiping his hands clean. "Thank you, Daddy." You would hug him, but you're still sticky. You're sure he wouldn't mind, but you'd rather avoid the mess anyway.

"Of course, honey." You kiss his cheek as you turn toward the stairs with Eddie's hand in yours. As his foot lands on the first stair, your father stops him.

"Hey."

Eddie turns.

"Did you drive her home?"

"Yes, sir."

He grunts. "Did you beat that Tommy kid up?"

Eddie shakes his head. "No, sir. Jockeys had him," he looks at you, spying a gleam in your eyes and smiling a bit. "I was just trying to get her home."

There's a short silence as your father smiles. He gives a firm nod, "Good man."

Relief fills his chest as he nods back. "Thank you, sir." You pull him up the stairs. He takes off his jacket.

You close the door behind him, your smile returning as you kick off your shoes. "Not only did we blacklist Tommy," you turn back to him, "but my dad also loves you now. Congrats."

Eddie furrows his brow as he heads toward your bathroom. "He does?" He turns on the sink, washing his sticky hands.

You nod. "Yeah." You disappear into your closet, coming back a moment later with a towel on your arm. "That's fatherly approval. You defended my honor, my knight in shining armor."

You take his arm and kiss his cheek as you walk past him. He feels giddy. "At least someone's parents love me." He starts taking off his shoes, setting them next to yours. Eddie sits at the edge of your bed.

You snort. "I'm gonna take a shower. Don't be a perv."

He kicks the floor playfully and sighs. "Ruined my whole night."

You point at him threateningly. "I'll tell my dad on you."

"I'll take pictures with me then. To remember you by." He winks.

You return the wink. "I'll make sure to pose for you."

You disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Eddie sits in your room, smiling pathetically, so happy that you're okay and he's okay and he's your knight in shining armor.

Here he is, smiling like an idiot, surrounded by the scent of you in your room with all your pictures and all your knick-knacks. He slides onto the floor, resting his head back on the mattress. God, he's in trouble.

He's flipping through one of the books on your shelves when you come out, a cloud of steam following you as you dry your hair. He looks over your outfit, smiling but offering you a confused look.

"Is that mine?"

You look down at your shirt, one of his band tees that you'd taken a couple weeks ago. He'd been looking for that. You can keep it.

"Yeah," you nod. "I stole it from your room."

He chuckles. "Well, finders, keepers, I guess."

You smile, walking toward your drawer stocked with VHS tapes. "You wanna watch a movie? I can go make popcorn."

"Sure." He raises his brows. "Can I take a shower? I don't wanna get spiked punch everywhere."

You snort. "Course. There are towels in there, and some of your clothes are in my closet."

He tilts his head, sighing. "How many of my clothes have you stolen?"

You raise your hands in defense. "Just a few shirts and like...one pair of sweatpants."

He shakes his head at you as he goes to get a pair. He closes the bathroom door softly behind him.

He likes your bathroom. It's clean and mostly organized. It smells like lavender and rose, pearly whites and pale blues. He almost expected pink.

~

Eddie appreciated the weight of your body against his as you lean into his side. Labyrinth plays on the TV as the minutes tick by into the night.

He keeps looking at you, your heavy eyes drooping as you struggle to stay awake. It's late. You should be sleeping, but you're staying awake for him. It takes a lot not to turn his head and kiss the top of your own.

"You're warm," you mumble.

He smiles a little. "Yeah?" With the arm thrown over your shoulders, his fingers play with your hair. "You gettin' sleepy?" He knows the answer.

You nod, a sluggish movement against his arm. "Mhm."

He picks up the remote slowly, turning down the TV just a little more. "You should go to sleep then."

Your body becomes a little heavier against him. He takes all your weight, proud to. "Mmm," you slur. "Finish the movie."

A very light chuckle, as light as he can make it, eases from his chest. "We can finish it another time," he says so, so softly.

"No...Watch it now."

He does kiss your hairline this time, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. "Go to sleep, bossy."

He's not sure if you mean to say it, he's not even sure if you know you've said it. But when you whisper that little "love you", he loses his mind.

He smiles so wide, he feels his whole face start to hurt. He hadn't realized it would make him so happy to hear that, to hear your little confession spoken gently into the warmth of his chest. He turns his head so his words go into your hair. "Yeah?"

"Mmm."

He opens his mouth, thinks, and smiles. "I love you, too, baby."

You hum, and then he feels you slump. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind the way he can't move his arm, he doesn't mind the way your hair gets in his face. He turns off the TV, leans back as slowly as he can, and lays the both of you down against your pillow to sleep.

You love him.

~

The entire day consists of Chrissy at your place getting ready for prom. The music doesn't stop and neither does the energy. You keep her happy and entertained and well-fed and then distracted again with more excitement so she doesn't get self-conscious and start panicking.

You also spend a lot of time keeping all the parents from the room. Your mothers keep trying to "help", and you keep having to kick them out because they're both annoying and overbearing.

Eddie keeps calling you. The walky-talky Dustin gave you both goes off regularly, at least once an hour to ask a question you'd had answered for days now.

"It is red, right? Not blue? It can't be blue; Chrissy's wearing blue." "Which knot are we doing on the bowtie? Wayne only knows the simple one but he's got a magazine with the other ones." "Am I leaving my hair down?" "I drive to your place, and then we take your car, right?"

"Yes, it's red. The whole outfit we picked is right." "Try the simple one. I can fix it if it looks weird, but it shouldn't. I trust you." "Do what makes you comfortable. I'll love it either way." "That's right. I know you really want to drive it." "Eddie, everything's gonna be fine. Don't worry."

"I know," he sighs. "I just don't wanna mess this up for you. I know you've been looking forward to it."

You giggle a bit. "As long as I get to spend time with you, Eds, tonight will be great."

"Such a charmer," he teases.

"It's my natural talent."

You set the device down, taking your spot across from Chrissy once more. She's smiling at you, albeit nervously.

"Are you sure I look okay?"

You smile, pinching her chin before reclaiming the small brush and finishing off the short, sleek wing of her eyeliner, all while holding your breath so you don't accidentally screw up. You draw a tiny heart just above the apple of her cheek.

"You are," you set the eyeliner down, "absolutely beautiful. You always are."

"Are you sure?" she says, a telling hand creeping to her belly.

You take her face in your hands, careful not to screw up her freshly done makeup. "Chrissy," you whisper, "you're perfect. Always, all the time, no matter what. I will never lie to you, and I'll never sugarcoat it. You're amazing, and I love you."

She takes a slow breath in and nods, smiling prettily. "Love you, too." You kiss her forehead.

"Now do my eyes," you smile, handing her a makeup brush. She giggles as she takes it.

And later on, as the night gets closer and the sun is beginning its descent, you and Chrissy are walking down the steps, holding each other's hands.

All the parents are gathered downstairs, smiling as your mothers cling to your fathers' sides. Your father smiles as you come down. "You both look like royalty," he declares, holding his arms open for you. Your mother moves to give you the space.

"Thank you, Daddy," you hum.

He pulls you back to see your face. "Anything for you, princess." He kisses your forehead.

Chrissy's sharing her own hug with her father. "I trust they were the dresses you wanted," he says.

She nods. "They were. Thank you, Daddy."

"Whatever you want, angel." He kisses her cheek.

Your father pats him on the back as they both wander into the kitchen, your mother follows behind them.

You try not to grimace when Laura stays back, looking her daughter up and down with a grimace of her own.

"I still think I should have loosened that dress up a little more." She moves forward, placing her hands on Chrissy's waist and trying to adjust the fabric.

Chrissy tries to smile through her discomfort. She puts a hand over her stomach and you retire your hard side-eye to come to her side. You weave your arm around her as you give her a reassuring grin.

"Well, I think you look beautiful." You nudge her chin, she smiles. "I envy you."

"I don't know," she tsks. "She's a little too big for her dress. Especially around the hips..."

You smile, turning to the side as you mumble under your breath. "Funny how you barely fit in that large sized dress."

Her brows shot up. "What was that?"

"Hm?" you ask, turning back to her. "Nothing. I was just saying you didn't need to stress."

She huffs, "You said something about a large."

Chrissy's head dips, attempting to cover a grin as you loop your arm through her elbow. "I was just...admiring your large heel."

There's silence as she stares at the both of you. Chrissy tries not to laugh at your dangerous idiocy whilst also struggling with not shrinking under her mother's terrible gaze. You have no issue in staring her right back down, your head tilting and your cordial smile held strong on your lips.

"You mean...'high' heel?" she corrects.

The tension in the air is thick. Chrissy finds it difficult to stand still as she shifts from foot to foot, staring down at the floor or the wall or her bracelet. Anything to avoid looking her mother in the eye—or you, for that matter, in fear that she would burst with laughter and build herself her own grave.

You hum and nod. "Of course. High horse—heel. My apologies."

Her hand raises to her chest, seemingly shocked by the blatant 'disrespect'. "You are being very disrespectful, young lady."

You were trying to be subtle but something about Chrissy's mother rips all the subtlety from you as you furrow your brows but continue to smile. "Oh, I wasn't aware decency was considered disrespectful."

Chrissy nudges your side gently, whispering your name in an urgent reprimanding. "What? What did I say?" you wonder.

Laura isn't having it. "Why, I should go tell your mother about your unpleasant behavior."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You try to look regretful, but you're sure you're missing the mark by a few hairs. "Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cunningham."

She huffs. "Missus, young lady."

"Right," you nod. "Mrs. Cunningham. I apologize." You tighten your grip on Chrissy's arm just a slight, making it harder for her to keep it together. She loves you, and she thinks you're hilarious. "It's unbecoming of a lady—such as myself—to behave in such a way."

"Yes, it is," she agrees. "One would think a girl like you would behave more appropriately."

You nod firmly. "Of course. I should respect my elders—I apologize, my superiors."

You could gag at the idea of it.

But she can't stand your "disrespect" any more as she huffs and shakes her head, making a various amount of scoffing noises as she begins walking away. "The nerve of children these days."

She leaves the both of you alone. Once you're sure she's out of earshot, Chrissy bends over laughing, covering her mouth and shaking her head to keep quiet.

"You're gonna get in trouble," she whisper-yells. Instead of shoving you away, she tightens her grip to pull you closer. Your foreheads practically touch as the two of you form a conspiring huddle.

You scoff. "I'm Daddy's angel. Doesn't matter what she tells my mom—who will tell my dad—Daddy's angel knows no wrong." It's a truth you repeat often, but it's one of those truths that have always been indisputable.

"Daddy's princess," she corrects you. "I'm the angel."

You shrug, humming. "You're technically the queen."

It's funny. You probably have a higher social standing than Chrissy does, but she was always the Queen of Hawkins while you were simply the princess—not that you minded, you would always support her.

Neither of you are quite sure why that is, but you think it may be because she became a cheerleader before you and then started dating Jason Carver. It doesn't matter. As long as you have her by your side, you would accept being the jester in this high school court of a kingdom.

Chrissy smiles, another giggle rattling her body. "So strange how you don't listen to me then."

You gasp dramatically. "I do! Otherwise I'd be out of the business, Your Highness. We both know I'm a little too dramatic to process common sense sometimes." She rolls her eyes playfully at you. "Exhibit A, Eddie."

She snorts. "Yeah, you were a little confused a couple times there.*

You gasp again, pretending to elbow her in the side. "You're mean!" She giggles again as you call out. "Daddy! Time for pictures."

"Coming, princess," he calls from the kitchen.

Chrissy whispers to you, "You're crazy."

You wink. "Crazy for you."

She rolls her eyes.

All the parents return with a camera. There are a multitude of flashes as they get every possible picture they could need—you and Chrissy, you and your parents, you and your dad, Chrissy and her parents, Chrissy and her dad, Chrissy and her mom (because her mother is insistent). More pictures will be taken when the boyfriends show up.

Jason is the first of the two to show up. As you predicted, there are more pictures. And as soon as those pictures are done, he and Chrissy leave, but not without a pink kiss to your cheek.

Then Eddie shows—without blaring his music through his speakers tonight. He isn't late, in fact he's perfectly on time.

As he walks up the steps to the house, he behaves like a gentleman the whole way. He rings the doorbell, you answer it before your father can, and you give Eddie your best smile.

He looks so handsome. He's in a black tux with a red dress shirt. His black bowtie is perfect, and you're sure it's because he didn't stop until it was. You would have thought he would keep his hair down, but he wants to impress you. His hair is shiny with product and so, so curly. He's got it pulled back in a half-up man bun.

And, of course, his rings are still in place. Shiny, freshly polished. Jesus, you loved him.

"Wow," he sighs at the sight of you. His doe eyes are wide, and his plump lips are parted. He looks starstruck.

"Do you hate it?" you worry, looking down at your dress. The theme is royalty in yours and Chrissy's honors. So, as intended, you look like a princess.

He shakes his head. "No."

You try not to mess with your hair by running your hands through it. "Is it too much?"

Eddie grabs your hand, smiling as he squeezes it gently. "You look fuckin' beautiful."

Your eyes seem to shine, and Eddie thinks you're trying to kill him. "Really?" you smile.

"You look like a princess," he promises, looking at you too closely. You're so, so pretty.

Something hits him, not literally. "Oo!" he exclaims, taking a step back. He turns on his heel with no explanation and rushes back to his van. You watch him, thinking that he's a total dork and that you wanna kiss him silly. There's something about being dressed up like this and being his not-date to prom that makes your feelings for him just that much more potent.

Usually you can get through the first five minutes without imagining your faces squished together in a too-affectionate kiss, but you can't help right now but to be riddled with the fantasy.

He comes back with something uselessly hidden behind his back. "I have this. Close your eyes."

You do as you're told because you trust him, and you would hold a ticking bomb in your palms if he asked you to. You feel him place something on your head—a tiara, you presume.

"Shit," he huffs breathlessly.

You peak your eyes open, raising your hands to feel the tiara with happy fingers. You want to burst. You're so much of a princess to him that he needed to give you a tiara. You're proper royalty now.

"Too much?" you ask.

"Never," he's quick to say. He smiles. "You're perfect."

You don't know what compelled you to say it. "Shit, you might as well kiss me now."

"Huh?" he wonders, as though he wasn't paying attention. You don't think he was.

He was. He definitely was.

"Nothing," you say anyway, covering your words with a grin as you take his hand and pull him inside. "Come on, my mom wants a picture."

He raises a brow, pointing to himself like a dummy. "With me?"

"'Course." You thread your hand through his elbow, and he gladly allows it.

"Seriously?" he asks.

"Yeah," you giggle. "We'll give some to Wayne, too. I'm sure he'd like a picture."

"Yeah," he mutters, fully agreeing but also slightly confused. You like him confused, he's sweet either way.

~

Eddie is a gentleman. As soon as you get to the party, he rushes out of the car just to open your door for you—as he always does. He takes your hand in the crook of his elbow and leads you inside. You smile the whole way, and he tells you that you're pretty when you smile. Your face hurts from smiling so much.

When you're inside, the music is already pounding in the floors and a lot of people are dancing. There are also, however, plenty of people sitting at the sidelines, watching others enjoy their time. People with no dates, people with dates ignoring them, people in friend groups. You notice Tommy H's freckled face hasn't shown up yet. A sly smirk threatens to overtake your warm smile.

You and Eddie spend the first hour dealing with everyone coming up to compliment you. You both expected this. The party's just started, you're running for queen, and...you look beautiful. Eddie does his best to swat away any of the vultures. When you spy Chrissy, you stick next to her and brave the vultures together.

Until Jason pulls her away for punch. She kisses your cheek as she goes, allowing her boyfriend to drag her away again. You don't mind, it gives you time with Eddie and his excited affection.

"Sup, Harrington," he calls when he spots Steve and—the girl you've come to know as—Robin Buckley. "I thought they didn't let old men in here."

Steve rolls his eyes as his palm smacks Eddie's. "You're older than me, Munson."

Eddie shrugs that heavy shouldered shrug and snorts. "By, like, a year."

Steve shakes his head and turns away from him, setting his eyes upon you. With a warm smile, he greets you. "You look great, Y/N."

"Like, drop dead gorgeous. You are stunning," Robin spews, taking in your outfit with plenty of appreciation for your style. A tiny squeal escapes her as she does.

"Thank you," you answer genuinely. You've grown to really like Robin in a short span of time. She's so sweet and geeky, and you love getting to hang out with her and Chrissy on the days where you've kicked the boys out. "You look beautiful, Bobby."

She seems to blush, looking down at her dress and nodding. It's probably too dressy for her, but your compliment makes her feel better. "Yeah, thanks."

She nudges Steve in the side hard enough for him to bring a hand to it and mutter a weak, "Ow."

"Steve wishes he had a date. He couldn't score one," she teases.

The three of you laugh as he rolls his eyes at the abuse. He'd hoped you would at least be nice to him, but it seems you've followed in Eddie's cruel footsteps. "Har, har. Laugh it up."

Robin takes his arm then, her giggles melting into her words as she smiles wide. "Anyway, we should go check out the punch. I heard someone spiked it and now we've got booze!"

Robin starts walking away with Steve, but when he pauses, she doesn't stop to wait for him. Steve sidles up to Eddie, leaning down to whisper in his ear and keep away from your prying ones. "It's now or never, dude. Don't keep making us listen to your gross pining."

Eddie grumbles, masking his anxiety with annoyance as he rolls his eyes. "I don't pine."

Steve scoffs. "Yeah, right."

Eddie pushes him away, to which Steve raises his hands in mock defense as he goes to catch up with Robin. He waves at you on his way. As if on cue, the music changes to something slow and steady, something romantic, and Eddie thinks the world is mocking him. When Eddie turns back to you, you're smiling at a couple who'd come up to say hi. He waits patiently for them to leave before he holds his kind of shaky hand out to you.

"D'you wanna dance?" he asks after clearing his throat a couple times.

You smile that drop-dead smile at him and he finds it a little harder to breathe. You slip your hand into his palm, and he hopes his isn't sweaty. "Yeah," you mumble fondly, standing close as you let him guide you to a spot within the dancing couples. Your heart beats so fast, drowning on his nervous fondness.

He holds you with timid hands, one in your hand and one on your side. You're just familiar enough that his touch does not feel as awkward as you feel. You try not to melt against him, to lay your head upon his chest and close your eyes, to let him sway you with the gentleness he feels swelling in his chest and tingling in his fingers.

He stares at your face, and it feels natural for him to do so. Your hand on his shoulder slides further to wrap around the back of his neck. He smiles at the soft glow in your eyes, the little sparkle of life that erupts every time you look at him.

"You're really pretty," he whispers as his eyes look over all the glorious features of your face: your soft lips, your kind eyes, your plush cheeks, your adorable nose, your fluttering lashes he wants to feel lay little butterfly kisses on his face.

You look down from his eyes momentarily, hoping the warmth in your cheeks and the shortness of your breath isn't too evident. "This dress was really expensive, so I'm glad you think so–"

He doesn't mean to cut you off, but he does. "I'm not talking about the dress." He can't help it when his hand strays from your hand to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing the gentlest touch against the apple of your cheek. "You're pretty without the dress."

You stare at him with the biggest, shiniest eyes. He loves when you look at him like this.

Then he realizes maybe he weirded you out.

"N-Not, like, naked! I just meant, y'know, even without the fancy dress, just in regular clothes, too. You're just..." he clears his throat pathetically, "you're really pretty."

You tip your head back to laugh sweetly, the one with the squeaks—the one he really likes because of its sincerity. His hand wraps farther around your waist. You respond—seemingly unconsciously—by setting your other arm on his shoulder. He secures both hands at your waist.

"I know what you meant, Eddie," you giggle, giving him one last squeak just to please him—though he knows you didn't do it on purpose.

He nods, letting his own giddy laugh escape him. "Cool."

A chuckle, one of the ones that goes through your nose as you stifle a grin. You move slowly, like you're trying not to startle an animal, as you set your head on his chest. You step just a slight closer, and he graciously lets his hands wrap tighter around you. His head rests against the top of your heart.

It's close and warm and it makes you both smile. He smells nice, familiar, like the cologne you bought him, deodorant, and cigarettes. Under the music and the sound of his clothes brushing your ear, you can hear the faintest beat of his heart. It's quick, heavy. You can feel it against your cheek if you really focus.

You chuckle so lightly. "Eddie, calm down. Your heart is, like, super fast."

He clears his throat, speaking through his fond haze. "My bad."

He's so nervous. Steve's words play over and over again in his mind. "It's now or never, it's now or never, it's now or never, it's now–" and he is so afraid to pick now that all he does is sway and breathe the scent of your soft perfume, and under that, your—supposedly—scentless lotion.

He's so afraid that he's missed his chance. He knows you love him, but he's stuck on the possibility that you don't love him like you did. Maybe now, after having waited so long, you love him like a best friend, you love him like a brother. Maybe now that he's finally fallen for you, you don't have the capacity to stay low with him.

He's so afraid.

You both sway to the music, moving so slowly. There's a pause, it feels like. You feel like something is supposed to be said or done but...no one is doing it. The music changes again, but neither of you have stopped your slow dance. You rue the moment you have to tear away from him.

But there was a pause.

"Do you want to stop?" you ask gently, hoping against hope that he says no.

And he answers your prayer better than you could have asked for. It's a quick, "absolutely not," that leaves no time for any conceived hesitation.

You're so relieved. "Okay..."

His response is just as immediate. "I like you."

You look up at him, smiling gently. The sight of him warms your heart, all the softness in his big features, all the gleaming in his dark eyes. "I like you, too."

"No, like..." he sighs, struggling to say what he wants to say as his hands find firmer purchase at your waist out of nerves. "I really like you."

You're confused as to how to respond. Smiling strangely and furrowing a brow, you chuckle, "Thank you?"

Not quite. "I mean–"

"Eddie," you pause, donning a playful voice. "You're being weird again."

He wants to laugh but his ears are burning. "What I mean to say is..." now or never, "I fuckin' love you."

Your heart leaps to your throat, and you almost choke on it. It's beating so fast, you feel it in every pulse in your body. "Like..." you think quickly, though your thoughts are jumbled. "Like a friend? Like Steve and Robin."

"Not at all."

You shake your head, thinking his not platonic love for you is too good to be true. "I'm confused."

He's already said it, there's no use in being shy. He chuckles, and then takes a deep breath, and then blows it out. You stare up at him, eyes gleaming and lips parted so delicately. He wants to kiss you.

"I'm..." Breathe. "I'm in love with you, Princess." And then your heart stops. You're surprised you haven't fallen in the middle of the dance floor. He holds you up with all the fondness in his heart. "I was trying not to fall for you, I wasn't going to–" he says it with the same resolve as picking up candy at the gas station, like loving you is such an easy thing to do, "–but then we started hanging out, and you ended up being really, really cool. Then, I sort of just..." He sighs, trying to find the words. "I started really liking you. Then I picked you up for that concert, and you were so gorgeous—you always are. And I picked you up tonight and saw you in this...fuckin' awesome dress, and I couldn't breathe because you're just... You're so beautiful, and–"

You shut him up with a kiss. You sit here and listen to his compliments forever, but you couldn't wait any longer to feel his lips on yours. You've wanted this for so long, craved this kind of intimacy with him since you first saw him and thought he was super weird. And he was, you were right. You often are.

His lips are soft and warm, and you love the feeling of kissing him. It sways in your chest and warms the pit of your stomach, and it tingles in your fingers and ears and you just...lean into it like it's such a natural thing. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, tangling in his hair to pull him closer. His hands tighten around your waist and pull you flush against him. Happy hands hold the other, an innocent desperation to be near.

Fuck, you love him and his stupid anxiety. You love him in all his strangeness, his eccentricities, his eager hands and giddy eyes. Kissing him is one of the best decisions you've made, and it's one you hope you can continue to make forever and ever and ever.

When your lips pull apart and you're breathing each other's air, you keep your eyes closed as your lashes flutter. "I love you, too," you whisper, pulling him even closer. Your affection for him had only grown over the last few months, from a swelling warmth to a bursting excitement that grows still with every Eddie-ism.

"Sorry it took so long," he replies, your lips brushing with his words as his hand raises to brush your cheek.

You shrug lazily. "I'm glad it happened at all," you're still so close. You forget the music is still playing, you forget people are dancing to something fast and loud, you forget people are probably staring and talking and laughing and dancing and carrying on while you and Eddie are stuck in your own world, confessing and kissing and loving.

You chuckle, resting your head on his chest for a moment before lifting up again. "Chrissy'll be ecstatic."

He laughs, his hand splayed along your lower back as he rubs the spot affectionately. "Yeah, well... They certainly are."

You look over to where he motions with his head, giggling when you see Steve and Robin beaming and throwing thumbs up at the two of you, as though they were being subtle in their celebration. If you look over just a bit, you can see Chrissy smiling like it was her being kissed and loved on so sweetly. She pulls Jason with her as she joins the other two in your success—which is, in turn, their success.

You snort. "You have weird friends."

"Correction: we have weird friends."

What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine. You're okay with that.

You get giddy all over again looking at his face. "I'm so fuckin' happy right now." You lift up on your toes and kiss him again, drinking in his loving affection. When you pull away, you smile wide.

"Do you wanna go to the movies with me?" he asks, bringing an eager hand up to cup your chin.

You smile, containing your laugh. "You won't stand me up?"

He laughs, a big one that rumbles in his entire body and spreads to your own. "No, I won't stand you up," he says. "I'll open your door like a gentleman, I'll buy your snacks, I'll drive you back home and give you a goodnight kiss."

Your voice is soft, though the music shouldn't permit it to be. "Can we go back to your place?"

"Mine?" he wonders. Yours is probably better, he thinks.

"Yours is better." It's like you've read his mind, and you need to prove him wrong with his own phrasing.

He shrugs, "It's small."

You respond with your own shrug, holding him a little longer. Your thumb rubs against the back of his neck. "It feels like a home."

He hums. "Not very gentlemanly, taking you back to my place."

You snort. "Not like my parents'll notice." The way you say it makes his heart hurt. They wouldn't realize I was gone. "Your house is lived in," you say with a new gentleness. "I want to be with you." And then you get shy, shrugging one shoulder and slanting your chin down to meet it. "And maybe I just want to make out with my boyfriend."

Eddie blushes all over at the word, like he's a school boy flirting with his playground crush. "Right?" you ask quickly. "I can call you that?"

"Please do."

You purse your lips and giggle at his eagerness. You can't help it, you kiss him again. You love the way he kisses, full of smiles and warmth and a hint of desperation.

You pull back, your hand on his chest. "Does this mean you'll let me buy you gifts again?"

He rolls his eyes and laughs lightly, shaking his head before conceding with a grin. "Within reason." He couldn't say no to you, especially not now.

Your hands sit fondly at either side of his face. Your thumbs brush his skin. "I can deal with that."

And this time, he kisses you.

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx Eddie the Banished taglist: @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom

[monstersandmaw]

Male orc (Rhuarc) x female character - Part One (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Thank you to the two people who explicitly expressed interest in this story via my inbox. This one's for you. Here's Rhuarc the single dad orc and his girl, and how they met. I've even got some visuals in this one too!

Content: kidnapping, attempted human sacrifice, violence, some light gore, implied age gap, older male character, single father orc x small human female

Wordcount: 4344

Rhuarc tried not to resent the fact that the Jarl of Markarth’s crusty old steward had looked him up and down as he’d stood in front of the so-called Mournful Throne, and decided that the orc was either entirely expendable or utterly stupid enough to take on an entire Forsworn camp. By himself.

Apparently it was the latter though, because with his two adopted girls waiting for his return in Whiterun, Rhuarc was most certainly not expendable these days. Perhaps twenty years ago, he might have hurled himself at the nearest frothing lunatic disrupting trade routes and abducting travellers off the roads without much care for the damage he took — the fact that he’d lost the sight in his right eye before he’d turned nineteen was testament to that — but these days, his contracts required thought and planning.

Kill the leader of Hag’s End, an old Nordic tomb complex nestled away in the frozen mountains to the northeast of Markarth.

Easy.

By himself.

Less easy.

The place was huge, and crawling with more Forsworn than termites in a mound, and there was every chance he would encounter a hagraven there too. Fuck, he hated those things. Whatever unnatural magic was used to create those half-bird, half-women, he didn’t want any part of it.

His own magic was fairly rudimentary by the standards of the average mage: a few fireballs here, a few healing spells there, and he could make a pretty decent lance out of ice if he had to. After all, orcs were known primarily for how ferociously they could bludgeon something into Oblivion, but magicka did coil its way through some of them too, and his mother had been both an alchemist and a mage.

Now though, as Rhuarc crept up behind the Briarheart warrior who led this bunch of rabid lunatics, and slipped his arm around the man’s throat to hold him still while he ripped the strange replacement heart out of the half-undead creature’s chest, he wondered exactly what kind of magic these people used that let them replace an otherwise healthy man’s beating heart with the poisoned seed of a Briarheart tree. And what special kind of lunacy allowed someone to undergo it willingly. Perhaps it wasn’t willing though? What did he know about these people?

As the orc’s fingers curled around the prickly seed that was about the size of an apple, the magic of it felt at once too cold and too hot; the way white hot metal feels in that moment of pure shock if you touch it by accident before the pain kicks in. He released the disgusting ‘heart’ and it fell with a splatter of gore onto the snowy carpet covering the cosy little platform, from where the man ruled over his clan of Forsworn. Rhuarc would have to find a scrap of cloth to wrap it in so that it didn’t leak everywhere between there and the city of Markarth, but he was looking forward to depositing it directly into the stuffy old steward’s lap as proof of the kill and the contract fulfilled.

The Briarheart warrior went instantly limp in his arms and Rhuarc laid him down silently on the frozen ground, already starting to plan his next move. A shout went up a second later from somewhere to his right — his blind side — and an arrow pinged off the bastion wall beside him. With a curse, he rolled and ducked behind the hide wall of the leader’s large tent, breathing hard. Of course he’d missed one of them, and if she alerted anyone else, or that lurking hagraven, Rhuarc was fucked. He was tired. And cold. His joints weren’t quite what they had once been, and his muscles were seizing with the cold and from crouching in dark doorways and corners on the long and winding way up to reach this part of the secret redoubt.

With a careful peek around the support structure of the leader’s tent, he realised that this new Forsworn hadn’t actually spotted him properly yet, and he hefted the haft of his war axe in his hand. Throwing a weapon away was never a great idea, but he didn’t have a bow on him, and if he called magicka to his hands, a hagraven would certainly sense it. Not a chance he wanted to take, and given that the place was called Hag’s End, he thought it pretty fucking likely that there was one of the bird-legged, psychotic matriarchs of the Forsworn roosting up at the top of the complex on that balcony almost directly above him.

So, he drew back his arm and sent the blade of his war axe whirling away to bite into the breastbone of the Forsworn before she could spot him or cry out again. She fell with the clatter and rattle of bone and fur armour, her silly antlered headdress skittering away behind her, and he was off running immediately to release the weapon from her corpse and seek a new hiding place in case the commotion had drawn others.

As it was, Rhuarc crouched for a long few minutes behind the gruesomely-displayed corpse of an elk that had been partly taxidermied by the cold and stuck on a stake, with his breath billowing all around him, and the stillness of snow in the air. Had he got them all? He was spattered all up one side of his body with blood and even had a red streak in his otherwise white hair that he’d shaved close to his skull above his ears and left long enough to tie back into a ponytail on top. What a mess. Still, it would be worth the groaning bag of coin he was going to get for clearing the whole bloody encampment and making The Reach a little bit safer for travellers.

Just as he’d begun to relax, half thinking of getting the girls each a new dress with his earnings, a scream like nothing he’d ever heard before tore the silence in two and his blood went cold.

It had come from the balcony above him where a spar of stonework jutted out into the winter sky like the bowsprit of a ship, and it hadn’t been the harsh shriek of a hagraven. The scream had come from a woman in blind, abject terror, and the sound of it shocked him back to his feet before he’d even realised it.

Rhuarc thundered up the stone stairs behind him and shouldered open the carved doors of the inner sanctum of the tomb, plunging into the relative darkness without stopping to think.

Not thinking was a sure way to get himself killed, and by some miracle of the fates, he skidded to a halt just in time to avoid a pressure plate in the floor that would no doubt have unleashed some kind of magical or poisoned trap on him. Whoever lived here clearly didn’t let just anyone inside, and blundering around like a panicked mammoth wasn’t going to help anyone.

“Think, you thick-skulled orc,” he growled at himself, chest heaving and heart pounding in his ears like a war-drum. He was only a few heartbeats away from slipping into that infamous, orcish berserker rage, and he never ever wanted to find himself on the far end of a state of mind like that again. Caked in blood and viscera and surrounded by an array of corpses with no memory of how they had been felled… He shuddered and forced himself to steady his breathing before moving on.

What he confronted as he wound his way carefully and methodically through the dark, blood-stained hallways of the upper Nordic tomb proved to be as great a test of his prowess with blade and his magic as any he’d ever faced in his forty-six years.

Savage witches clad in long, magicka-laced, black robes hurled spells and curses at him that he only just dodged or warded in time to sink his axe into their skulls, but what made his skin crawl the most was the hagraven who seemed to be taunting him, letting him get one or two shots in before a swirl of purple and black magic enveloped her and she vanished to somewhere else in the complex.

Was she an illusion? Had he lost his mind or, worse, accidentally imbibed some poison from one of his victims that was making him hallucinate? He’d spotted enough deadly mushrooms growing in the dank corners of the dungeon that the suspicion remained, even as he ploughed on through the coven of crazed witches towards the woman who had let out that heart-rending scream.

Just as he sensed he was gaining the top of the tower, the hagraven disappeared amid a final storm of eerie, flickering magicka, leaving him alone in an echoing chamber at the top of a staircase lined with mortuary shelves.

Over to his left, an arcane enchanting table crackled with residual magicka from a recent use, the blueish runes on its onyx surface glowing in the dim light, and on his right, an ancient monument reared up like a tombstone, carved with a script he couldn’t read. He had no time for any of that, and paused just long enough with his hand on the last door to gather his breath and the last ragged remains of his strength, before shoving all his weight into swinging them open and stepping out onto the snowy balcony beyond.

A blast of freezing air hit him full in the face, but it wasn’t the cold that stole his breath and his senses.

There on a low, wide, stone altar, a Nord woman had been bound hand and foot, stretched out and completely naked, and she was thrashing weakly despite the wounds at her wrists and ankles from the ropes. Tears tracked pale lines through the dirt on her face and her bare chest heaved with broken, choking sobs as she arched her back in futile protest.

Over her prone figure loomed the emaciated figure of a hagraven with a glinting, black dagger raised in her taloned hands.

Rhuarc didn’t think.

He hurled a bolt of ice at the creature, and might have been surprised to find that it had actually struck her right in the stomach if he hadn’t already been concentrating on drawing the ambient moisture into his hand to freeze into another shard of ice as thick as a tree limb. The hagraven let out a shriek that should have made his ears bleed, and hurled a fireball at him for the indignity of him getting a hit in first.

Searing flames exploded all around him and he smelled singeing, though he wasn’t sure if it was his fur armour or his own skin, and he didn’t care. He leapt forwards, diving into a roll in the snow to douse any lingering flames, and as he came up he launched a second spike of ice directly at the hagraven’s weathered, distorted face. Her black, beady eyes narrowed and she bared rotten teeth with a snarl as she clenched her clawed hand and prepared to fling a second fireball at him.

Rhuarc had closed the distance between them in a few powerful strides though, and before she’d finished the spell, he grabbed her by her flimsy arm and felt the snap of it breaking in his grip as he yanked her away from the altar. Before she could even muster a screech, he lopped her head off with his axe. He didn’t stop to watch her abandoned carcass slide over the edge of the parapet, down into the void of snow and cooling corpses below, and turned instead to the woman laid out on the table.

The dagger had fallen from the hagraven’s claws to land beside her right hand and she was reaching frostbitten fingers for it.

“Easy,” Rhuarc said, holstering his messy axe at the loop on his belt and realising he probably looked as frightening as the hagraven had. Six foot six and broad as a barn door at the shoulder, Rhuarc now had blood all up his face from one of the witches, a nasty burn on his shoulder that was only just now making itself known, and a long cut on his abdomen that was oozing blood down his solid paunch. As he’d got older, he’d lost the iron definition he’d had in his youth, but he was probably the strongest now that he’d ever been in his life.

No wonder the woman was staring wild-eyed at him like he was some animal barbarian, but his heart physically hurt in his chest when he saw the welts and bruises standing out starkly on her pale, Nordic complexion. Her long, midnight black hair was loose and lank and greasy, her lip was split and swollen, and there was a vibrant, purple bruise all around her left eye socket. Those dark brown eyes glared up at him with fierce defiance though, and her fingers found the hilt of the knife.

He smiled. “I know I look a sight,” he said in a low, quiet rumble, holding both hands up, bloody palms towards her. “I’m gonna help you though. Let’s get you healed up and out of here. I’m not sure what you can wear though…”

“My… My clothes are in… were in… a chest… in there,” she croaked, twitching her head slightly towards the chamber he’d just left. The swelling in her lip clearly made talking painful, and she sounded like she hadn’t had any water for days. That, or the thick, raw, red line around her throat was responsible, flanked by distinct, finger-sized bruises the colour of a ripe plum. It made his orc blood boil to see marks like that on a person’s body, but he made himself focus on the more immediate task of helping her.

“Alright. I’ll untie you — may I use that dagger?”

She nodded and reluctantly let her fingers go loose again. With the rope lashed so tightly around her wrist, she didn’t have enough purchase to lift her hand free of the hilt, so Rhuarc carefully slid his bloody fingers underneath hers and he eased the blade out.

Concentrating, he sawed steadily through the thick rope, and she hissed as she flexed her fingers when the rope finally sheared and one arm came free. The raw chafing showed him just how hard she’d fought her captors, and he found the warmth of pride glowing in the pit of his stomach for this stranger and her resilience. Methodically, Rhuarc moved his way around the table to free her ankles next before finally cutting the ropes binding her left arm to the cold table, and all the while keeping his eyes off her naked body as best he could.

“We need to get you somewhere sheltered. Can you sit up?”

She tried valiantly when he asked, but her strength failed her in a rush and she slumped back down with a gasp.

Rhuarc dropped the knife to the stone at his feet and stuck his right hand under her head just in time to stop her cracking her skull on the stone platform of the altar, and he cradled her lolling head in the palm of his hand. His already-bruised knuckles clunked against the altar under the full weight of her head as she surrendered at last, spent.  

“Easy,” he said. “I’ve got some magic. I’m going to heal you, alright? Keep steady, then we’ll find you some clothes and get you out of here.”

Her dark eyes rolled as the golden light of healing magic washed around her, and she slumped at last into unconsciousness.

Rhuarc picked her up with detached efficiency and carried her out of the biting wind and back into the tower that formed the top part of the tomb’s inner sanctum, marvelling at the Nord’s resilience to the cold. He knew that her people were tougher than most humans in these conditions, but still, with everything she’d been through, she probably should be dead.

Her small body was soft where many Nords were made of hard muscle, and he suspected that she had not been raised to be a fighter. That the Forsworn would snatch her away from whatever battle-free life she’d led before and defile her like this made his blood sing all over again and his hands itched to sink his axe into a nice, crunchy, Forsworn skull. He let the thought go with a growl around his thick tusks and shouldered the doors open.

With her pressed against his bare chest, he felt the tingle of magic in her blood too, and he recalled the way her body had drunk his own restoration magic down like water poured onto dry sand. Perhaps the fact that she was probably a mage had been why the hagraven had been about to sacrifice her in that unholy ritual.

Inside the echoing, stone room with the enchanting table, Rhuarc found the chest she’d mentioned, and he crouched down awkwardly in front of it with her half-draped across his lap, her naked body propped up by his right arm. He really didn’t want to have to use one of the beds in the tower that the witches had clearly slept in, but if the woman needed to rest, then he would stay with her and see that she was safe.

Just as he was fiddling one-handed with the catch of the chest, which luckily wasn’t locked, she drew in a deeper breath and came-to with a mewling sob of discomfort. Her bare legs were touching the floor and the room wasn’t much warmer than the air outside because of a huge hole in the ceiling, but at least they were out of the wind.

“I know,” he said without looking at her. “I’m going to find you something to wear. Just give me a second.”

“Thank you,” she rasped, and the sound became a sob as she squirmed in his arms, trying to curl inwards on herself. Whether that was to cover her naked body better or simply because she was hurting in every way humanly possible, he wasn’t sure. “Thank you. I thought that was it, when… when she… she —”

“Shh,” he said, briefly tightening his hold around her shoulders with a slight curl of his right arm, worried that if she grew too distressed, he might drop her. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

“Thank you,” she said again, and then added with a little sniffle, “My name is Syl, by the way.”

“Rhuarc,” he grunted, finally lifting the lid of the chest. “This your stuff?”

She peered forward and nodded. An undyed linen shirt and brown trousers had been roughly stuffed into the wooden chest, along with a pair of softly-worn, fur-lined boots, a thick, fur-lined jacket, and a small alchemist’s pouch that fitted on a belt around the hips. He had something similar himself for the road, choosing to forgo the usual traveller’s pack with a bedroll and cooking pot. He hunted or foraged for what he needed and cooked it over an open fire and slept under the stars when he absolutely had to, but mostly, he actually planned his journeys to halt at an inn for the night these days, because he was too damned old now to be sleeping out of doors in the grass like a bloody wild boar. He also thought he glimpsed some linen underwear and wrappings in the chest too, but he didn’t let his gaze linger.

“You… need a hand?” he asked quietly, but she shook her head.

“I can just kneel here for a moment. I’ll be alright,” she said in a steady, if rough voice. “Thank you.”

He nodded once. “I’ll be over there,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his thumb over his left shoulder.

He helped her slide off his lap where he’d crouched beside the chest, and steadied her briefly with a hand at the small of her spine to stop her tipping backwards. Her flesh was still cold from lying out there on the table, but she couldn’t have been out there for too long before he’d found her, or she’d have died of exposure. Even a Nord couldn’t survive naked in the snow for very long.

Only then, with his rough palm pressed against the pale softness of her skin, did it strike him that it had actually been a very long time since he’d seen another naked body, and the feel of her skin beneath the calluses of his palm distantly stirred the cold embers of desire in him that had lain dormant and out of mind for longer than he cared to remember. Even for an orc, he wasn’t exactly short of people showing interest, but it just… hadn’t been something he’d wanted. Then of course, he’d found himself the adoptive father of a pair of ten and eleven year old girls, and all thoughts of romance and the so-called ‘Dibellan arts’ had evaporated completely from his life like autumn mist.

With a sigh, he banished the faint and inappropriate sensation and levered himself stiffly to his feet. As he did, he felt the cut in his lower belly pull with a sharp prick of pain and when he looked down at it, he found it already suppurating. His thick, naturally green, orcish skin had turned a nasty, angry red around the slash and something was oozing out of it that wasn’t blood. Poison. Fuck.

Glancing around the room, he wondered if there were any ingredients stashed way that the witches would have used, but he was in the wrong part of their stronghold for that and anyway, who knows what they might have been brewing in there? Thinking about what limited stocks he kept in the emergency pouch on his belt, he drew out two carefully-sealed glass bottles and tipped their contents into the cupped palm of his left hand. It was hardly ideal, but it would do for now, and he smeared it onto the open wound.

The flash of pain made him grunt, but with a soft fizzing, the powders got to work and nullified the festering poison before it could spread.

“Rhuarc?”

When he turned around at the sound of her voice, he found Syl looking at him from where she was still kneeling in front of the wooden chest.

“Are you alright?” she asked with a frown.

Her alto was still hoarse and rasping, and he wondered if she was still in pain. “I’m fine. Are you? Did I heal you enough?”

At his question, she smiled, and something in his chest slipped sideways when he saw it.

How could a woman who’d just been through the torment she had experienced still find the grace to smile like that? And at an orc of all creatures.

“Yes,” she said, and, now that she was dressed, she stood slowly; cautiously.

She wasn’t very tall for a human, perhaps five foot five at most, and her body seemed somehow even smaller in her loose-fitting, practical clothes. He could clearly see the swell of her hips though, and the definite curve of her breasts, and her dark eyes looked very large as she regarded him. In an attempt to tidy herself up, she had tied her lank, black hair back off her face in a low ponytail, but she still looked like she’d taken one hell of a battering, despite the healing magic.

And yet, there she was on her own two feet, and her resilience was suddenly as devastatingly attractive to him as were her natural good looks. Rhuarc swallowed thickly, utterly floored by what he was feeling for the first time in decades.

“You’re hurt,” she said, eyeing the wound in his stomach.

He felt her open herself up to start channelling magicka, and his own mismatching eyes went wide. “No, don’t!” he gasped, taking an involuntary step towards her and holding out both hands in a kind of warding gesture. “Please, you need to conserve your energy. I’ll heal myself in a moment. I was just waiting for the poison to work its way out first.” No point sealing up the cut with all the vileness still inside, after all.

Syl walked slowly towards him, moving like a black cat along a wall, with her gaze focused on his bare paunch.

Rhuarc’s breath caught and he froze. He couldn’t have moved so much as a muscle then, even if an army of hagravens had descended on him.

When Syl came to a halt in front of him, she brought her fingertips up to touch the fevered flesh around the wound. Very carefully, she let a tiny thread of golden magic seep into him, and he honestly did not mean to let out the noise that left his lips. He hadn’t even known he was still capable of making a sound like that.

Pleasure curled deep and visceral in his gut, both from the whisper-light contact of her fingertips against the trail of hair on his stomach, and from the way her magic coiled and twisted inside him, stitching him up from the inside out and cleansing the last of the poison’s putrefaction in the same deft stroke. She wasn’t just some hedge witch with a little magic: Syl had to be a master of the school of restoration with a healing that skilled.

“There,” she breathed. “Just looks a bit of a mess now,” she added, eyeing the blood that still covered him in a series of spatters and smears.

He couldn’t catch his breath for a moment, but he cleared his throat and stepped back. “Not much different from usual then,” he said a beat too late and painfully aware that his gruff bass sounded far more winded than when he had fought his way through the entire complex to reach her. “Thank you.”

With a long inhale, she let her hand fall back against her side and turned her big, dark eyes up to regard him. “So… what happens now?”

I hope you enjoyed this one? I'm fairly certain most people aren't going to read down to this point, so if you did, please consider reblogging it to help it find more of an audience, and give Rhuarc and Syl some love?

And if you want to learn more about how they fall in love on their journey away from Hag's End, be sure to leave me an ask or a comment! Otherwise I'll assume there's no interest and won't keep sharing it. :)

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