#But like lots of tenses and part of speech I was like oh I know it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 2 years

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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 pt. iv ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: eddie begins to become a more permanent figment in your life, daily and weekly, but as relationships grow, tensions become higher and mistakes are made, but even with your life falling apart, eddie's there to catch you.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), teacher/student relationship, age gap (21 & 29), oral (m receiving, very brief), unprotected sex (and kinda public, but not really), temporary madness (things will resolve), mention of nude photos, lots and lots and lots of angst, tense arguments, love confessions, stubborn!reader, eddie is so blindly in love with reader it's ridiculous, lots of time jumping and time passed, eddie hates kids unless they're steve's, if i missed anything pls let me know!

word count: 10k - part one, part two, part three

Eddie couldn’t believe the ongoing success with his band, doing more and more shows during the weekend—sometimes even traveling a state over to perform for a small crowd, bigger than the usual ones that bar drew together, it was recognition—something he and his friends had been after since high school.

And you hadn’t missed a single showing, not since his performance at The Hideout, not when he was doing random shows around Indiana, and definitely not now—watching him perform his heart on a stage in some beautiful Ohio park, it was the small taste of adrenaline and fame Eddie had always sought after—even the groupies were a surprise to him. He knew they existed, he’s seen them approach his friends occasionally, but never himself, not when he was so wrapped up in being around you.

You’re perched on top of the cases of equipment behind the stage when they approach, sweaty and out of breath, normal for how full out they went on stage.

“Beautiful,” Eddie smiles, stringing the nickname over his tongue as he slid between your legs, squeezing gently at your legs in greeting, “did you enjoy the show?”

“Loved it,” You smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips, “did Gareth keep those panties that girl threw on stage?”

Eddie barked a laugh, turning on his friend who still looked mortified. “I’ll take that as a no.” You laugh along, resting your arms over Eddie’s shoulders as he turns his back to you, resting himself against the plastic cases of equipment.

Eddie calls out the small group of girls—very, highly intoxicated drunk girls, as they stumble your way.

“You fellas busy?” One girl asks, speech surprisingly not slurred for how badly they reeked of alcohol.

His friends scramble, a desperate stuttering as they try to think of a response—Eddie is quick to shut an attempt down geared toward him, which was definitely coming by the looks that were being forced his way.

“I’m spoken for, ladies.” Eddie pipes, nodding his head up to where you were slung over him from above, chin resting atop his head. “Sorry.”

“Oh we don’t mind,” The woman shook off the comment, “your girlfriend can join.”

You expect Eddie to tense at the words, scramble for some type of excuse, but he doesn’t. “I don’t like to share.” He smiles politely, fingers guiding into your own to squeeze tenderly, pulling you further over him until you are barely hanging on to your seat, “I don’t think she does either.”

Eddie glances up at you and your heart soars, “Right?”

You shake your head in agreement, flashing him a face scrunching smile as he leans up to kiss you, feeling satisfied when the girls finally let up and ignore him, directing their attention to his friends.

Eddie pulls back, enough to look at you but not disconnect you two from the moment, “Whaddya say to dinner?” He asks softly, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck as he turns toward you, “I can actually treat you to a meal outside of my apartment.”

That was the best part of all of his out of state performances, being able to be seen around Eddie with no shame, in public, like you’d always wanted. You knew the consequences and constraints before you agreed to any of it, but it was still nice, being able to spend time with him outside the four walls of his classroom or home.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You tease, eyebrows pulling up in confusion.

“Not a date,” Eddie counters, trying to save himself the humility, “—just friends, hanging out, that also see each other naked a lot.”

You pout dramatically, “Damn—I really like dates,” You sigh, letting Eddie lift you into his arms and steady you back on the concrete, not letting go until your feet hit the floor, “but that’s okay.”

“Then it's a date.” Eddie rushes out, shoving the loose hair from his face, pulling back to look at you with urgency. "Sort of"

Truthfully, you just wanted to hear him say it.

Eddie treats you to a quiet dinner at a restaurant that’s never busy around this time of night, nestled into the same side of the booth as you pick at your meals—and he kisses you, in public, no fear of being caught or watched; it’s freeing, until it isn’t—the constant creeping feeling that this wouldn’t last, not how you wanted it to. It was bittersweet when he pulled away, a smile on his face, bigger than you’ve seen in weeks.

You weren’t sure if you could keep yourself together much longer.

“You’ve gotta tell me the story,” You pester him, pouncing down on his lap, bare thighs resting over his covered ones, the soft material of his sweatpants rubbing against your skin. You had a black pair of underwear on and a shirt that didn’t belong to you—it belonged to Eddie actually; the long forgotten Hellfire shirt shoved in the back of his shirt drawer, now worn by you, “Max never told me much about high school in Hawkins.”

Eddie’s hands ascend the slope of your back, fingers tracing lines against the skin. He shrugs, “There’s not much to talk about—I used to head the D&D club, I sold a lot of weed back then, and barely managed to graduate—“

“Max told me,” You interrupted suddenly, feeling like holding onto that information may have come back to bite you, it felt better to let it out, “—about how long it took for you to finally graduate, I’m sorry.”

Eddie doesn’t seem fazed by it, the resentment so deep in his past that he can’t be bothered to hold any grudges. “Doesn’t matter—I wasn’t raised like most kids, I didn’t get everything handed to me like Harrington did—love ‘em, don’t get me wrong. But, I managed.”

“Tell me more about the club,” You tell him, fumbling to change the subject, not feeling the investment to get deep or emotional, knowing it would probably make Eddie uncomfortable; it didn’t change the fact that you wanted to know everything about him, “was it fun?”

“I’ll have to show it to you someday.”

Someday; like you both had all the time in the world.

You smile, nodding in agreement.

“I always knew you were a nerd, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” You tease, “Any other secrets I should know about you?”

Eddie smiles devilishly, shaking his head, “Not at all.” It’s a sweet attempt at shifting the topic, hoping you won’t notice—and you don’t expect him to open it, he didn’t owe you anything, but it was nice to learn more about him and his life before and outside of his job, the phone ringing from the wall breaks the moment. Eddie looks like he can’t be bothered to answer, but the ringing persists, “Want me to answer it?”

Eddie nods hesitantly, “Just—don’t let them know who you are—whoever it is,” He says, nodding toward the phone.

That seemed like a given—you remove yourself from his lap, yanking the phone off the wall, cord tangled as it hung below.

“Munson residence.” You greet cheerfully, “Who’s this?”

You hear the voice on the other end of the phone say your name, confused, and your eyes widen in fear—Eddie notices immediately, rushing to grab the phone from your hands.

“Hello?” He says with a slight panic, but then he hears the voice on the other end and relaxes, “It’s Steve.”

You can hear his voice through the speaker, muffled, but a flurry of questions that even Eddie can’t keep up with. “Harrington, seriously—I don’t pry into your personal life, why are you prying into mine?”

There’s a small pause as he listens, Eddie’s face pulling up in frustration, leaning his shoulder against the wall, hand gripped right around the plastic spine of the phone.

“If she wanted to tell you, she would have—that’s not my problem—-Steve, Steve—buddy, why did you even call? You never call.”

Another short ramble from Steve and Eddie rolling his eyes, he hands the phone back to you.

“Glad to see you two figured your shit out,” He says with an immense amount of smugness, “Anyways—I need a favor.”

Your laugh brimmed with annoyance, it felt like arguing with a bigger brother—something you never had. “Go on.” You encourage him.

“I need a babysitter.” He tells you—he was on his last leg, you two, well Eddie, being his only choice left.

“That’s rich,” You laugh softly, “—when have you ever wanted time away from your kids?”

“Look, they’re good kids, I promise.” Steve says desperately, despite the screaming shriek of a toddler in the background. “Bring Eddie with you—I’m sure you two can handle it. I can pay for dinner, literally whatever the hell you want—I’m begging you.”

“Woah, woah—“ You say in an attempt to calm his rambling, “It’s fine, Steve—we’ll help.”

“We will?” Eddie asks in shock, wide eyes spread even wider, not agreeing with you at all.

“Fuck—thank you, I love you guys.” Steve says with endearment, “Can you be here at six, tonight?”

Eddie shrugs in defeat, not allowing you to take this on all alone, “Yeah.”

“Great, I’ll see you guys then.”

With a click and a sheepish smile, you press the phone back to its rightful place—Eddie looks like he could explode at any moment.

“Seriously?” He asks, arms flailing out to his side.

“You deal with kids everyday,” You point out, “how is this any different?”

“I deal with adults—“

“They act like children, most of the time.” You point out, which he can’t really argue with. “Look, I can handle them—you’ll just be there for support…or whatever. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“Then I look like an asshole,” Eddie says defensively, “that’s not fair.”

“Then suck it up, get dressed—we’ve got some kids to chase around for the night.”

It should be pointed out that despite Eddie’s tolerance for Steve’s kids —he still absolutely despised the little beings and their constantly sticky hands.

Steve knows you can handle them, which is why he’s out the door almost immediately after you both arrive—he doesn’t question it, and he’s not really sure he wants to dig into what’s going on with the both of you right now, not when he had his own date to worry about.

Eddie’s got the youngest on his hip, barely a year old—the older one, a toddler only a couple years above the youngest, wrapped around his leg, poking her fingers through the holes in his jeans. It fits him well and you can’t help but laugh. He’s rocking the baby lightly, managing the chaos, despite his hair a mess.

You smile, wide and shamelessly, he sees it coming from a mile away. “Don’t even say it—I swear-“

“You love it,” You tell him teasingly, letting the younger one wrap his fist around a lock of hair, desperately trying to eat it—he knows there’s no use and he doesn’t want the crocodile tears, so he leans into the tug, “you can’t even deny it.”

“I’m obligated to love them,” He defends, “They’re Steve’s munchkins—just look at ‘em.”

It was the big, brown eyes that did you in, their rambunctious and snarky attitudes second—they were the perfect copies of Steve, it was almost freaky.

“Can you take him?" Eddie nudges the smaller one in your direction, “I think he’s hungry.”

If you would have thought half a year ago you’d be standing in Steve’s living room with one of his best friends, who also happens to be your teacher, but also ended up being your more than casual hookup, you'd have called them insane. But, it was exactly your reality.

You balance the baby on your hip, all while managing to whip up a bottle that the young boy takes greedily, shoving the plastic nipple into his mouth. You’d always been good with kids too, you just had no desire to have any of your own. It wasn’t something you’ve ever admitted to anyone, but you always knew.

Eddie manages to rock the other child into a nap, cradling them into his lap as he takes a seat beside you on the couch, the low hum of the television in the background soothed them both to a deep sleep, and the silence is beautiful but short lived.

“Do you ever think about it?” Eddie asks, pulling a small, child sized blanket over the toddler, “Having kids?”

No one’s asked you—it feels weird to say out loud.

“I’m barely into my twenties, Eddie.” You tell him, “—but no, I don’t want them.”

There’s a long pause of silence.

“You?”

It feels like the wrong thing to be talking about with someone you’re not even in a relationship with, some sort of invasion of privacy.

“I’d hoped my band would’ve been touring all over the world by now,” He says somberly, thinking about how rough their start had been, “I mean—it’s cool we’re getting some notoriety now but I guess I always hoped I didn’t have to stay in one place too long, that I could just tour and make music and not have to be stuck here in Hawkins.”

It’s the most vulnerable thing you’ve heard Eddie say—it’s confusing how open he’s being. You want to blame it on the idea that maybe he’s just gotten comfortable with you, and maybe that was partly true.

“Do you hate it here?”

Eddie shakes his head softly, careful not to make any sudden, jerky movements. His voice is low, quiet as he speaks to you, “Not as much I thought I would—but I’d rather be doing other things. I never wanted to teach.”

“So, why did you? That seems like a choice that takes a lot of time and effort.”

If he was willing to open up, you were going to ask every last question you had. You didn’t know much outside of his music and your friends, it felt like you barely knew him at all.

“I worked in my degree for a while but it wasn’t paying well—they needed a teacher there, I needed money and the money was good, it seemed like the right choice at the time—“

“But not anymore?”

Eddie shakes his head, “I almost quit before this year started. I was done, I wanted to move away and do something I enjoyed—it feels like no matter how hard I try, I always end up back in Hawkins.”

“Why haven’t you told them what you do for work?”

Steve, Nancy, Robin, practically everyone in his life.

“It just seems easier—there’s less to explain. I hate talking about myself.”

“I love when you talk about yourself.”

Eddie smiles at that, small and closed off, but you see it.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie asks hesitantly, since he was already exposing most of himself to you.

“Why didn’t you run the other way?” You feel your neck tighten at the words, throat closing off the words that want to escape. “If you knew I was your teacher—after I did what I did—why?”

You don’t respond for a while, trying to find the best way to explain yourself—it scares the hell out of Eddie. “That was a choice I made,” You say softly, “it was never your fault. I could have stopped this whenever I wanted to, but I haven’t.”

Eddie nods slightly, soaking in your words.

“I get that it’s wrong—I met you as my teacher first, someone entirely different second—but, it just doesn’t feel weird, you know? I know there’s rules and it’s taboo and people can get into trouble for stuff like this, but I’d never try to purposely risk you losing your job.”

Eddie doesn’t have to hear the words to believe you, he’s never expected you to be vindictive and ruin his life, but the thought of getting caught was always in the back of his mind—but truthfully, he didn’t know if he’d care that much.

“And if I wasn’t your teacher?” Eddie asks with a small amount of hopefulness, an attempt to lighten the dark loud that was beginning to loom over the conversation.

“There’s no way to know,” You laugh, “but I don’t think it would’ve made a difference for me.”

There’s a thought that comes to you suddenly, but you are terrified of what that answer might be.

“What if I was never your student?” You ask softly, “Would you have even noticed me?”

“Nance and Robin would’ve still introduced me to you anyways—I like to think I would, yeah.” He tells you honestly, “You’re beautiful, I would’ve fell for you regardless.”

Your eyebrows pull together at his choice of words—there could've been more to it, but maybe you were searching too far into all of it.

You glance over at Eddie, who’s nodding off slightly, the ambiance of the room and exhaustion from the day starting to catch up with him—he catches himself, making a small noise of apology. You use your foot to tap at his thigh gently.

“It’s okay,” You whisper, he adjusts himself slightly, more reclined as he places his feet up on the couch and turns toward you, “if they wake up I can handle it.”

Eddie doesn’t argue, falling into the deep grasp of sleep rather quickly, eyes shut and face slack—you’ve slept beside Eddie multiple times, but you’ve never taken the chance to actually admire how relaxed he seemed while sleeping, less stressed, less worried. It reminded you just how beautiful he was and just how badly you were starting to fall in love with him.

—

“Breakfast? Again?” Max asks, coffee and donuts in hand as you step up behind her to order your food—and Eddie’s. “Do you do this everyday?”

“No,” You say defensively, cut off by the barista—

“The usual?” Her chirped voice asks and Max looks amused.

You nod quickly, handing over the cash.

“How often?” Max questions, coffee tipped to her lips.

“Three…maybe four,” You shrug, “sometimes five.”

“You’re bringing him breakfast everyday?” Max asks, voice louder than necessary. “Oh my god—“

“It’s breakfast, Max.” You say, pleading with her to keep her voice down, “—I can buy him breakfast if I want to.”

“Oh—don’t pretend I don’t see his tie every morning, that shit has never been straighter.”

“He asks me to do it,” You reply sheepishly, offering a weak shrug, “it’s not a big deal.”

“So, you two went from hooking up and sneaking around to hanging out in his office every morning?”

It only dawns on you when Max says it, how the shift happened, when it happened—you went from only seeing Eddie for sex and class, to spending most of your weekends locked up in his apartment—maybe for more sex, but also to spend time with him, and if it wasn’t time at his apartment, it was on the road for shows.

“We babysat for Steve the other weekend too.” You admit with apprehension, ready for Max’s onslaught of ‘I told you so’.

Max is locked and loaded before you can even stop her.

“I told you so!” Max exclaimed, poking her finger into your arm gently, “Didn’t I?”

You grumble under your breath as the barista hands you the order of coffees and croissants, all nested neatly in the drink holder.

“This isn’t fair,” You tell her, slipping through the gathering crowd of people trying to grab a quick breakfast—Max didn’t even have class in this direction, but she followed you anyway, “I can’t stop myself from liking him.”

“Liking him? Babe,” She looked at you with a certain gaze of scrutiny, “you’re bringing him food and tying his tie—that’s love.” She sings the word and it makes you wince.

You don’t even try to defend yourself this time because even you know, it’s so painful obvious that you’d look stupid trying to deny it.

“Has he, you know—“ She stops for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “—does he seem to feel that way too?”

A painful case of unrequited love? You weren’t sure if you’d be able to survive that.

“Only if I wasn’t his student,” He’d been very clear about it, but unfortunately, you were—which made it all so much worse, “but clearly that’s not the case.”

“I don’t know,” Max seems unsure, “—maybe you two should talk, at least before the semester is over and he accepts that offer—“

“What offer?” You stop Max dead in her tracks.

Her eyes widen like she’s told a secret that was never supposed to see the light of day.

“Uh—nothing, it’s nothing.” Max shakes her head furiously, “Just—I heard something.”

“From who?” You lean forward, stopping Max at the steps before she can make a getaway.

“Robin,” She says reluctantly, “Eddie told her that some big label wants to sign them and—and have them record an album and go on tour, the whole deal.”

“And what else did she tell you?”

“That’s it,” Max sighs, your eyes narrow, “I’m serious, that’s all she told me—I thought you knew.”

The betrayal flows through your body—the anger of everyone knowing but you. Why?

“I’ll see you after school,” You tell her in a clipped voice, trying not to wrongly direct your frustration at her, but you couldn’t help it, “don’t wait up for dinner.”

Max catches your hand before you can fully leave her reach, “Hey, I’m sure he was going to tell you—give him a chance to, at least.”

And Max feels horrible, but she lets you go anyway.

You hand his breakfast over with a contained restraint of anger—he kisses you boldly, on the mouth, office door still wide open, neither of you cared to noticed. He can see it before you even decide to speak, setting the food against his desk. His tie is still slung around his neck, hair pulled back in a loose bun.

“Look—“

“Why?” You interrupt, voice sounding weaker than you expected.

“I was going to tell you,” Eddie admits, “I was trying to find the right time.”

The right time? You laugh softly, tossing your half drunk coffee and cold, stale croissant in his trash can.

“So, what does this mean?” You ask, perching yourself against the open door, hands clasped behind your back.

He doesn’t like the distance, hates it. He takes a few steps forward cautiously, hands held up.

“I haven’t accepted anything yet—I wanted to surprise you, this weekend—I didn’t want you to find out like this,” He tells you slowly, you frown at the idea of him wanting to surprise you, suddenly feeling like you were being over dramatic, “who told you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Eddie can figure it out himself, it’s not hard to guess, “so you’re leaving?”

“That’s what it would mean—yeah, but like I said—“

“Don’t look at me and tell me you haven’t made a decision already. I know you, Eddie. When did you find out?” It seemed like it hurt more knowing how long he’d been holding onto this information, but you had to know.

“After that night at Steve’s—look, baby—“

You shake your head gently—not here, not now. He couldn’t comfort you here and he knew that, it was a low and desperate blow.”

“And you’re gonna say yes?”

Eddie nods, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He steps to you then, neither of you bothering to close the door as he slides his face around the soft flesh of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands.

“I can’t go with you,” You say softly, “you’re going to leave and I can’t go with you.”

There was no chance that things could ever turn into more if he left; he'd move on and forget about you, caught up in the tangles of fame and music in another state, miles away. It hurt more than you cared to admit.

“It’s not going to happen soon—I’ve got a few months, we’ve got all of summer, there’s still time.”

This was only ever supposed to be temporary and you felt silly for trying to assume it was anything solid or permanent.

Eddie dealt with the brunt of the weight of the decision on quitting, leaving—not leaving you necessarily, but allowing himself what he’s wanted for so long, since he was a young boy who could barely hold a guitar, even with two hands.

He can’t justify asking you to leave with him, abandon college, give up everything you’d worked so hard for—and you hate that you would do it in a heartbeat, over a silly little situation that started months ago, all wrapped up in complicated emotion now, neither of you wanting address the fact and remain perfect and naive to everything, secured in that bubble you both had created.

You couldn’t admit how much you cared about him, loved him—and as much as he felt the same, it did feel like the right move.

“Hey, I’m still here now—I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie tells you, shaking your face gently, your lips parting softly to speak, he captures your lips before you have the chance, hand slipping from your face to grab at your side, pulling you in closely. Eddie inhales, his breath tastes like cigarettes and artificial mint from his toothpaste, it was all so normal to you now.

Kissing Eddie, at school—this should not feel normal to you. It was a momentary lapse of judgement when he crowded you toward the door and kissed you without shame; it was the downfall of everything. You two had become too comfortable with each other.

“Oh wow,” A voice carries from several feet away, the sound of paper hitting a bare palm, slow-clapping their way toward you, “is that why you rejected me?”

Eddie pulls away quickly, allowing you to push yourself away from the door frame, head turning to look at Jason.

He smirks, sending an unnerving chill down your spine.

“Jason—“

He holds his hand up, waving at you dismissively.

“I just came to drop off my books,” He held up the item in his hand, shoving it toward Eddie—who despite the compromising position he was found in, has no fear, just a look of pure resentment, “sorry for interrupting.”

Eddie tries to remind himself that Jason is kid—a stupid, entitled one, but nothing worth going to jail or losing his job over.

Jason huffs one last laugh, full of disgust and jealousy, shoving the books into Eddie’s waiting hand.

He was about to make a complicated situation that much more messy, door slamming shut loudly on the way out.

Jason didn’t give you too much time to recover—still reeling from the rejection of his advances during the date, he wanted to hurt you worse, make life hell—and he did just that. Eddie was already preparing for the worse, he knew.

Word moved quickly, like a fucking plague, and Eddie was forced to quit two days later—but Eddie, he seemed relatively unfazed by it all, like it was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

When they pull you both into the room to speak, you’re met with several pairs of eyes—higher ups and several faculty who were likely also interrogated on the matter, all of which knew nothing, so their only choice was the source, that being you and Eddie.

“Listen, I want to know who’s responsible.” The easy answer was both, but Eddie wasn’t willing to let you risk everything for him. “Who initiated this?”

“Me,” Eddie answers simply, giving a dumb downed explanation of it all, “I used my position and I abused it, convincing her to start a sexual relationship with me—that’s it.”

Your mouth opens in protest, heads turning to you.

“Is that true?” The Dean asks, “Was this done willingly?”

You nod sheepishly, face blushing a deep shade of red, feeling hot and uncomfortable in a room full of people judging your every move.

“Look—she’s of age and I’m sure she’s not trying to seek charges against you either,” He takes a breath, pen balanced careful between two fingers—it takes all the physical restraint in your body to keep you from stabbing it into his hand, and you wanted to maim Jason, cause him all the emotional pain you were feeling right now, but you forced it back down, “but that’s not how we conduct policy here, so I’m terminating your contract and you’ll need to pack up today, I don’t want to see you here tomorrow.”

Eddie can’t do anything but nod, no real sense of fight in him, he’d accepted it. He was almost grateful.

“As for you, I suggest you adjust your behavior and figure out what’s more important to you—your education or some meaningless relationship.” The snide remark wasn’t necessary, but there was no telling what Jason had actually told him, he had no real concept of what you and Eddie were outside what he caught you two in the midst of.

Eddie accepts the contract offer later that night, you curled up on the couch by his side, his hand rubbing your back in slow, circular strokes.

It was almost surreal, having happened so quickly, that you hadn’t really processed any of it. You had to figure out classes, adjust to the rumors being spread around, and still try to live a normal life—it seemed impossible, and you didn’t blame Eddie. You’d uprooted your entire life willingly and you had to pick up the pieces.

“I fly out to California next week,” He tells you when he finally hangs up, “sign all the official papers and stuff.”

“Good, that’s good.” You answer absently, eyes glued to the floor, counting the lines in the horrible dingy rug that Eddie wouldn’t throw out, despite how worn it looked.

Eddie smiles sadly, a subtle lift at the corner of his mouth.

“But, I still have a couple months—we’ve been writing songs, sending them out, it seems like this shit is really gonna take off for us.”

“Yeah—that’s great.”

He can tell that you’re not with him, a shell of yourself.

“Robin and Nance want to throw a party to celebrate.” He adds after a few minutes, hoping that will pull you out of your daze.

It doesn’t; it felt like your brain was imploding in on yourself, and Eddie couldn’t be bothered to hold back anymore.

“I love you.”

The words hit you with less of an impact than you expect, laughing slightly, “Don’t say that.”

Eddie pulls at your sleeve, fist shoved up by your face, cheek leaning against it, forcing you to look at him.

“I don’t say that—to anyone.” He tells you, that familiar glint of vulnerability shining through his eyes. “I love you.”

“You love being with me,” You correct him, “You love the sex, and the thrill that came with doing something wrong—you don’t love me, Eddie.”

He’s never looked at it that way, he’s never even thought of it in that sense. And he knows he’s felt this way for a while, but the feeling didn’t hit him until you started staying around more often, doing all the smaller things in his life that he normally wouldn’t do for himself—they were never necessary, but you did them.

Eddie rubs the pad of his thumb over your brow bone, against the soft bridge of your nose, admiring every line and angle of your face as you stared up at him, defeated.

“I’m not asking you to say it back to me.” He tells you quietly, but that does nothing but boil your blood, pulling away from him abruptly.

“So what—you want to drop that bomb on me after you plan on leaving? You’re not coming back here, you know? Once summer is over you’re going to be moving to California, traveling, what’s the point?”

Eddie didn’t have a point, it was a need—a need for you to know, in case the feelings were mutual, and they were. But, you couldn’t see this working out positively, not with your entire college career ahead of you, and the rest of his life on the line after one silly little confession.

“It’s been eight months,” He pleads with you, “I think there’s a few blurred lines in there for both of us, I’m telling you because I mean it, regardless of what that means for us.”

You shake your head in denial, disbelief, all of the above.

“This was supposed to be happy and positive and this huge thing I was going to surprise you with and you act like it doesn’t matter,” Eddie says suddenly, “did you really expect things to work out perfectly?”

“I don’t understand how you’re fine after that,” You respond angrily, “did you want them to find out? Did you want to get fired?”

“I don’t plan to beg for my job back,” He confesses, “—things are good right now, why are you worried?”

“Good? Good?” You spit at him, leaning away from him fully, knees perched on the cushions as you backed away, “You don’t have to go back to school and deal with everyone judging you—talking about you, did you consider any of this for me?”

“When have you ever cared about what people said about you?” Eddie asks, trying to come up with any feasible way to defuse the situation. “Can you calm down—please?”

He remembers how high school was, early college—it was a nightmare, he understood all of it, but he just wanted you present, here in this moment with him.

“You can’t even ask me to be your girlfriend but you’ll tell me that you love me?”

And that’s what breaks Eddie.

“I was going to ask you at the party.” Eddie snaps at you, his face scrunched up in frustration, eyebrows knitting together.

You draw nothing but silence, resting gently on the palms of your hands as you move to sit, legs crossed in front of you.

“Come here,” He motions with his hand, patting your thigh gently, you hesitate, “—seriously, come here.”

You scoot back into his arms reluctantly, letting him drag your right leg over his lap, his large, warm hands coming to rest above the curve your ass, it’s not meant to be sensual and it doesn’t feel that way either, you lean into the touch, your own hands coming to rest along the broad line of his shoulders.

“I’m invested in this,” Eddie tells you proudly, not a single waver in his voice, “forget how this started or whatever doubts you have—I want this, I’m serious.”

“But, you’re leaving.” You say pathetically, feeling like it was just another way to wiggle out of the situation.

Truly, you were afraid of your heart being broken—and you weren’t sure if Eddie would care to pick up the pieces.

“And I’ll always come back—when I’m not working, I’ll be here, and when you’re on break or when you finish with school, I’ll fly you out to me.” Eddie explains slowly, letting your eyes fall to his lap, his hands giving a reassuring squeeze. “I never wanted casual with you, sweetheart.”

“But, you said—“ His hand roses to grasp at your chin, stopping the fountain of words that were about to flow out, another mindless excuse to delay your own feelings.

“I know what I said—and I lied.” He says softly, finger rubbing tenderly at the soft tissue of your lip, the action causes you to pull the bit of flesh between your teeth, soothing the sting of his touch the lingered. “I was fucked from the moment I talked to you at the bar.”

“Stop.” You beg softly, the soft beginnings of a sad smile pulling at your face.

“Even if I hadn’t gotten this offer, I do it over again—and again, and again—“

The last bit is muffled by your lips, leaning forward to press gently against his own, a quiet noise of encouragement from him as his hands traveled high, squeezing at your waist, sneakily adjusting you closer until you’re seated perfectly over his lap.

Eddie sighs, “Fine,” He kisses you quick, pushing your hair away from your face, “let’s focus on something we’re good at.”

You hum softly, “Really good at, if you ask me.”

Eddie insisted on the smoke break, his dick still in your mouth when the words come from his own, you pull back with a look of annoyance that Eddie laughs at, tucking himself back into his pants lazily to pull at your arms, dragging you along with him.

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” He whispers into your ear, fetching his smokes and light as he guides you by your hips out the sliding door. It’s a solid cement wall lining his balcony, safe enough that you don’t feel like you’d fall over the ledge if you decided to look over, but it still didn’t provide much privacy—it was the reason Eddie had his blinds closed most of the time, one peek in and someone could easily get an idea of what he was up to inside—but that didn’t stop him from sliding his hands into the front of your underwear, back pressed against the cold concrete, regretting having let Eddie keep you in the flimsy bra covering your breasts, the hiss that escapes has Eddie chuckling around the cigarette that’s shoved between his lips.

“You mind, sweetheart?” He asks, eyeing the lighter rested on the ledge beside your head, Eddie’s fingers finding their way inside you.

“H—oh, out here, are you s-sure?” You whisper quietly, flicking the lighter until it ignites, hand covering the flame from the wind that threatened to snuff it out. Eddie leans forward slightly, the end of the cigarette burning a bright amber as he inhales deeply.

“Positive,” Eddie nods slowly, fingers curling inside you, the soft pad of his thumb dragging against your clit, “—I mean, as long as you’re comfortable with it.”

Maybe it was the horniness that guided your decision making, but it didn’t matter, you were more than willing.

“Uh huh.” You nod, voice shakier than normal, a small whine escaping your lips as Eddie’s one finger turns into two, then two to three, all while continuing to take long, slow drags from the cigarette, dusting the ash off over the ledge.

He’s got a Cheshire grin and an ego bigger than he can handle, your hand grasping his shoulder for support, the line of his thigh shoved between your legs to keep you upright, your hips rocking against his hand with no sense of control—all urgency and primal instinct.

The hand that isn’t being used to support yourself palms the front of Eddie’s sweatpants, the hard and obvious bulge tenting the flimsy material, he grunts around the cigarette, forcing himself closer, your hand shoved forcibly between your bodies as he worked his own hips against your hand, “Fuck—turn around,” Eddie groans out, removing his hand, helping you twist your body until you’re front is pressed against the slab of concrete, sliding your panties down past your ankles until you’re stepping out of them, the soft rustle of his clothes behind you as he slipped them down far enough to pull himself out, cock still just as hard and straining as it was in your mouth a few minutes ago, “don’t want you to hold back, okay?”

You nod dumbly, it was the middle of the night and most of the lights were off outside, it was unlikely that anyone was still awake at this hour, but it still sent a thrill through your body, to your core, the prospect of being caught or heard. Eddie slips into you easily, his front pressed tightly against your back, his hand coming around your neck, pressing against the underside until your head was leaned back against his shoulder, the slow, resting pace as he rocked into you had you gasp at the intrusion, your own arm wrapping around the back of his neck, hand sinking into his curls.

Eddie wants nothing more than to make this last forever, the slow drag of his hips as he moves against you, holding you gently, it’s so slow—you moan softly with every movement, moth hung open slightly. “Are you still mad?” He asks idly, mouth muffled against your hair.

You shake your head jerkily, a particular thrust has his hand squeezing against your throat gently, a needy whine escaping your lips. “I’m scared—scared, Eddie. I don’t want to lose you.”

Because you love him, but the words don’t slip just yet.

“I’m right here,” He reminds you, groaning as you clenched around him, never getting over how good it feels to be inside you, bare, connected—he’s never been so reckless, but when it came to you, every rule was thrown out, “I’m not leaving.”

“Want you—want you to enjoy it, though,” You reply sadly, “live your life.” And normally, Eddie would hate having such an intense conversation while he was inside of you—but, it was the only time you felt comfortable being vulnerable. You knew Eddie would take care of you, but this felt like the end and that was terrifying. “It’ll be good for you.”

Eddie sighs, burying his face into the side of your neck, breath heavy as he hastened his pace, the hand resting against your neck traveling down your chest, over your abdomen, until his fingers were resting against your pelvis, a gentle push as he coerced you further against him, your hands shooting up to the ledge to keep you upright and from toppling over—Eddie had a firm hold on you though, you weren’t going anywhere.

The cigarette finally fell from his lips, forgotten and left burning on the ground as he returned his focus to you, reminding you just how badly he needed you. “You are my life,” It sounds cheesy, unauthentic, and he hates that—but it’s true, “everything I’ve accomplished in the past eight months, you’ve been there with me.”

Your staccato of moans is loud, unrestrained, the small movements of his fingers against your clit was enough to have you fall to your knees, but Eddie was the only thing holding you up now. “I know, I know,” Eddie soothes, his lips dragging against the side of your face as you leaned back, begging to connect with him, putting you out of your misery as your lips connected with his in a heated kiss, teeth and tongue and swallowed up groans of pleasure, “—can I—can I come—“

“Inside me?” You ask for him, sounding breathless, “—Fuck, please—yes, please.”

“You first, though,” He remarks, your mouth hung open on a silent gasp as his fingers pick up an unrelenting pace, the overwhelming slam of his hips mixed with the quick, tight circles he was rubbing against your clit had you moaning loudly, catching yourself as your hand flew over your mouth, attempting to muffle the noises for your own decency, “—no, no—“ Eddie says quickly, his hand reaching to pull at your own, “—I want them to hear how good this feels for you, okay?”

You nod, letting him hold your hand in his grip, the movements becoming too much, the familiar creeping feeling of your orgasm hitting you as your face turned hot, groaning through the high of it, Eddie’s fingers working you through the comedown, he pants softly against your face, whispering a tender, “Good girl.” as his own movements slow, tapping at your hips until you get the idea to turn around.

He slips out of you momentarily, a blink and you’d miss it, before he’s got your legs wrapped around his hips, guiding you back down onto his cock easily, his hand cradling the back of your head as he fucked into you—you didn’t even care about the cold of the concrete biting into your back, too focused on the way Eddie concentrated, sparing looks from his dick disappearing inside of you, back up to your blissed out face, barely able to make out the soft ‘I love you’s’ that slipped past his lips, coming with a broken moan as he spilled himself inside of you, hips working jerkily through the orgasm.

You could blame it on the euphoric high of sex, but it felt needed, and your heart tugged with every confession of love that came from his mouth—you couldn’t let him leave without saying it.

“I do love you, Eddie.” You admit tensely, his face faltering slightly as he pulled out of you, carefully resting you back against the ground, “I just—I don’t want that to hold you back.”

“You don’t want to be together?” Eddie deduces, slipping his sweatpants back over his hips, eyes solely connected with your face as you pull your underwear over your ankles and back onto your body, allowing yourself some decency.

“I’m just trying to say that—maybe you should see what’s out there,” It hurt to say, but it felt selfish to keep Eddie tied to you, not when he and you had so much ahead of yourself, “I’ll always be here, but I don’t want you to worry about me—go and do your thing, enjoy it.”

“But—“

“For me,” You beg, “—let’s not label this, not now—I don’t want you to end up hating me because you still feel tied here. Get out of Hawkins for a while, away from everything.”

Eddie doesn’t understand it—but he nods, knowing that it would be a losing battle to argue with you, your mind already clearly made up. He’s so caught up in the negative that subtle confession of love doesn’t even cross his mind.

The calls are almost daily, at first—typical recounts of his day, all the crazy things that were happening, fast and overwhelmingly, but you could hear the change in Eddie’s voice immediately—he was happy, it was evident in the way you could practically hear him smiling through the phone.

A week turned into two somehow, telling you how Gareth and the others really wanted to do more sightseeing, and it wasn’t much of a surprise, you tried to reassure him that it was fine.

Eddie knew it wasn’t, but he tried to remember what you’d told him. Get away from Hawkins.

And there’s a lot of disappointment when you manage to sneak through the rest of your semester, still the giant focal point on everyone’s mind, but then summer comes around—and Eddie doesn’t.

You stay with Max, back home, contained in the small trailer park she spent most of high school living in, just across from Eddie’s old him—it’s a constant and daily reminder, painful almost. You met Wayne briefly, without the idea that he knows about whatever history you and Eddie had, and he’s a nice man—it explains a lot of how Eddie carries himself.

Calls become every other day, to weekly, to scattered over several days—from talking for hours to only managing to squeeze in a ten minute conversation before Eddie was being rushed off somewhere; meetings, shows, everything under the sun. They gain popularity fast—sold out shows, faces plastered all over town on posters, merchandise being sold everywhere.

“I might get a couple weeks off around Christmas,” Eddie tells you at the beginning of December, in the middle of you and Max setting up decorations and dressing up the tree, you’re perched on her counter, foot tucked under yourself, “—it’s been nonstop.”

“But, you’re enjoying it?” You ask hesitantly.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s been crazy.” His astonishment is genuine, but you can hear the pain in his voice. “I just miss you.”

“We all miss you.” You tell him with honesty, dealing with the constant badgering from everyone about what Eddie was up to—you didn’t mind, it was nice that they cared.

Eddie does manage to see you at Christmas, it’s a week of subtle bliss and time spent with family and friends—like everything was suddenly normal again.

“No way, Eddie—“ Max exclaims at that skateboard grasped tightly in her hands, shaking it excitedly, “how did you get this?”

“It’s a secret,” Eddie says sneakily—it was the one thing Max had been saving up for the past few months, but Eddie put all of that to ease, showering everyone with nice, niche gifts—it was his way of showing love for the support they offered, even if he wasn’t materialistic at heart—he had more money than he knew how to spend now, “—I’m gonna take a smoke break.” He excuses himself, letting the rest of the group mull over their other gifts to be exchanged. He nods at you subtly, beckoning you to follow.

His hand slips into yours and pulls you out of the front door of Max’s trailer, taking a seat on the top step, allowing you to plop down ungraciously between his legs, turning sideways to rest your head against his knee, the familiar smell of lighter fluid filling your nose as he flicks the flame alive and lights the cigarette.

“I know you said no gifts,” Eddie begins hesitantly, slipping the cigarette between his fingers as he searches through his coat pocket, handing over the white envelope with a small shake to his hand, “but I never listen to you anyways.”

You pull at the opening, sliding the stalk piece of paper between your fingers, “Eddie,” Your voice is soft, overwhelmed, “—you can’t fly me all the way out to California.”

“Everything is already paid for,” He assures you, “I wanted to have you stay with me for the rest of the break—I was hoping you’d come back with me.”

“But, I—“

“Max already knows—she threatened me for not asking you sooner.”

You both laugh softly at that, delicately placing the envelope to the side. You couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this—you were free of responsibility for the next few weeks, nothing but time on your hands; time you wanted to spend with Eddie.

“It’s beautiful there,” Eddie tells you, “You’ll love it.”

You smile widely, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek as he raises the cigarette back to his lips.

Now, how the hell were you supposed to follow that?

“I—kinda got you a gift too.” You start off, pulling a small, leather bound book from your jacket pocket, keeping it just out of reach, Eddie’s fingers coming up to attempt a grab a it, “—and it’s not as fancy or extravagant as yours, but just—keep in mind that I did this with the thought of me not being able to see you once you left. So, it feels stupid now—but don’t open it here.”

Eddie snatches the book easily, ignoring every word you’ve said.

His mouth drops open in surprise, eyes dragging down to you in a heated gaze, “Sweetheart—this is—holy shit.”

A full booklet of pictures—of you, in various states of dress, some fully clothed (in his clothes), some in thin lingerie, the more scandalous ones toward the back of the book—fully nude and in various poses. It was meant to be something for Eddie to keep with him while he was away, a reminder of what he always had to come home to—your face burned hot as he flipped through them, Polaroid after Polaroid.

Eddie couldn’t even allow himself to form words, stubbing out the cigarette with urgency as he turned full attention to the gift, smiling so hard his cheeks had to be hurting.

“I told you to wait,” You complain lightly, “—sorry if it’s too simple.”

Eddie turns the book on you, flashing one of you in a black lingerie piece, on your knees with your breasted nestled high in the confines of the uncomfortable getup—it was the first and last time you’d ever find yourself in that type of clothing, but for Eddie, it was worth it. The pictures left little to nothing to imagine and it was exactly what you wanted for him.

“This is fucking amazing.” Eddie responds with fervor, snapping the boom shut and shoving it safely inside his coat pocket—no one would know it was there besides him, and you. “God—I missed you so much.”

You pout slightly, letting him drag your chin up with his fingers.

“I missed you too.”

Everything felt right again, for once.

—

You grimace at the sight of him, dressed up in full tuxedo. It’s like a weird deja vu moment as he walks through his bedroom door and into the living room, “Okay—this feels weird.” You tug at the dress uncomfortably, adjusting your breasts where they felt like they were about to slip out of the fabric, your mind trying to justify why this was all necessary. “Do we really have to go?”

“I made reservations a month ago,” Eddie says dejectedly, “—do you really not want to?”

If you didn’t already feel bad, that made you feel worse.

“Fine—fine,” You sigh, Eddie spreading his arms wide to let you examine him—it was too professional, a stark reminder of just how quickly Eddie could fall back into that side of his life, though his hair flowed freely over his shoulders, which kept a part of his effervescent personality alive, “but I don’t know proper etiquette at these places, I’m probably going to embarrass you.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t have a fucking clue either.” He chuckles softly, rubbing his hands against your bare arms. “That’s what makes it fun.”

And the restaurant is just as intimidating as you expected, a menu full of things you couldn’t pronounce, wine that tastes horrible for how costly it was, it was nothing like what you were used to—Eddie looked out of his element too, both of you constantly giggling over how ridiculous this all felt. The small talk is nice, until the conversation dies down and Eddie gives you a look—it makes your heart skip, the fear of what was coming.

“It’s nice to finally be able to take you on a proper date, at least.” Eddie digresses, stabbing his fork into the meal on his plate. “I don’t have to hide you anymore.”

He could show you off proudly—even if you weren’t officially his, not that it mattered.

You laugh softly, a lousy response, but Eddie didn’t mind. It was a painful reminder of how difficult things still were back in Hawkins, shunned by the majority of the people there—aside from your friends, class was nearly unbearable anymore.

“How’s school?” Eddie asks timidly, your eyes averting to your food.

“It’s okay,” You shrug indifferently, “I’m managing.”

The last thing you wanted to do was put a damper on the date, but Eddie pried anyway. He’s silent, like he’s waiting for you to give an honest answer.

You sigh, placing your fork against the plate gently.

“What?” You ask flatly, “Do you really want to hear about how it’s going?”

Eddie nods, following your actions.

“I’m barely passing,” You admit, “No one talks to me but everyone stares, none of the professors will offer to help me outside of the classroom because they think I’m some leper that’s gonna get them fired.” Eddie looks like he wants to interject, but lets you continue, voice shushed enough that it’s not drawing attention, but the air between you two is tense, “If I’m not in class, I’m stuck in my dorm—I don’t have a social life outside of Max. It’s horrible, Eddie. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Eddie’s mouth opens in the beginnings of another apology.

“If the words “I’m sorry” come out of your mouth, I’m stabbing you with this fork,” You threaten, flipping the fork in your hand until the pointy end faces up, “don’t start apologizing to me like you’re the one responsible—I’m an adult, I’ll deal with it.”

Eddie sighs, twisting the expensive cloth napkin in his grip, he doesn’t have his rings on either, it’s strange—it’s almost like you were seeing him for the first time again.

“I guess this is a bad time to ask you to be my girlfriend,” Eddie laughs bitterly, “and possibly suggest moving you out here.”

Your eyes widen, both in shock and at the absurdity of what he was asking by dropping those types of questions on you.

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Eddie points out, motion to your face.

“Move here, Eddie?” You ask, “Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s selfish and impulsive, I know.” Eddie admits.

“Is that the only reason you bought me the plane ticket? So you could butter me up and hope that I would want to stay?” You ask in disbelief, “What the hell?”

You couldn’t handle it—this, the whole entire thing, it was strangling you and you wanted out. You needed a moment to breathe.

The loud screech of your chair is the last thing Eddie hears before you’re storming off, leaving the choice up to him as to whether he should follow you or not. It isn’t even a thought to Eddie, throwing cash on the table to cover and chasing after you, determined to make this work—no matter where you or he ended up.

He catches you halfway down the block, heels in hand, attempting desperately to escape the program. You needed to face it, you should have, but your first instinct was to run.

“Stop,” He pleads, footsteps creeping up behind you, “hey—please?”

“You didn’t come back,” You spit out, turning on the balls of your feet to face him, “you promised, Eddie.”

“That’s why I wanted to bring up the idea,” Eddie says carefully, “Things are crazy and hectic and I just want you here, with me, all the time—that’s all I want.”

“So, drop out of college and move into your expensive apartment—turn into some fake housewife that waits around for you all day?” You ask with a slight sense of disgust, “Is that what you think of me?”

“There’s colleges here—good colleges. I have a friend at USC, we can figure it out—“

“What about everyone back home?”

“Coming here doesn’t mean you can never go back—“

“Why are you pushing this so hard, Eddie?”

“God—because I fucking love you. I want to be with you. Every time I bring up the idea you change the subject or run the other direction—am I reading this wrong?” Eddie asks in desperation, hands stretching outwards, his tucked shirt becoming a mess.

“It’s not that—“

“Then what?” He asks viciously, “You won’t even tell me that you love me—if you don’t, then why are you here?”

“I did tell you!” It’s turning into a shouting match, but neither of you can be bothered to care, “The night you accepted that offer—I said it but you,” A finger shoved into his chest, “weren’t,” another sharp jab, “listening.”

Eddie steps back, face falling as he tries to recall the conversation—how you’d begged him to go, do something for himself, so caught up in the idea that he grazed over the confession completely. Part of him hoped he could balance it easily; work and love, like it would be simple, but it was the hardest thing he’s ever tried to manage—being away from you hurt more than he ever expected.

“Look,” Eddie takes a deep, collective breath, “I’m not forcing you to come live here, I just wanted to give you the option—you can enroll in college here, we can live together. We can be together, like we should’ve been from the start—I just want to be with you. You can start fresh here—let me fix everything that I screwed up for you.”

It’s almost too good to be true—how quickly your life could be fixed if you just fled town and ran off with Eddie; everything in your body was telling you no, no, no—but the words that come out of your mouth are saying otherwise, giving in to the idea that moving here with Eddie; it didn’t sound as bad at you were trying to make it out to be. You were just young and scared and afraid of things going badly.

“Then no bullshit,” You tell him, “ask me, right now.”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“Fine,” Eddie takes a step forward, hands sliding against your cheeks, the warm flush of your face stinging his cold hands, “—move here with me and let me call you my girlfriend?”

“Does that sound ridiculous to say?” You ask with a small amount of amusement.

“I mean—yeah, but nothing in my life has been anything less than ridiculous,” Eddie protests, “the way we met—ridiculous, losing my job and striking big here—ridiculous, but falling in love with you—not at all.”

You nod slowly in understanding, letting it all sink in. If there was ever a time to take a chance, it was now. You were tired of constantly second guessing yourself.

“I’ll take a semester off school,” You tell him, watching his mouth pull into a small smile, “—not because I’m moving here, but because I need it—and I’ll start back into school next fall.”

“Whatever you want to do, I’m okay with that.” Eddie confesses, “I’m starting to get my life together, finally—I just want you to be happy.”

And you knew how unhappy you were away from him, he could tell with every phone call, longer and further apart—he was starting to lose you—but he wanted this to be your choice.

“And Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“I hate fancy restaurants,” You tell him, “and big gestures.”

“Noted. ” Eddie stammers quickly, “Let’s go home?”

You smiled, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his lips.

“Yeah—let’s go home.”

You could figure out the semantics later—allowing yourself to finally have something you cared about, without guilt. It didn’t matter how you found each other, but that you did—and all you cared about right now was Eddie; it was the one thing in your life to hold onto and you were never letting go.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #my writing #1kfic

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natsaffection · 11 months

Text

I hate you! | part 4 | N. Romanoff

Avenger!Natasha x Younger!Recruit!Reader

Summary: Your past has been revealed.

warnings: violence, panic attacks, flashbacks, angst, angst, more angst

Word count: 6,3k

A:N: Here it isss, it’s a lot and I hope it makes sense :,)

Fury didn't know how you found out about the existence of the others.

He knew that this information was secret, but now you're standing in front of him, slamming it against his head.

Natasha, Steve and the others were equally surprised by your sudden revelation.

But Fury's stern expression did not waver. "You've said enough. This is a matter for which you have no authorization." You clenched your fists in frustration. "Oh, I don't have clearance? So what's your plan, Fury? Keep us all in the dark like you did with me? Like you're still doing to me? You say it's about trust, but you're the one who can't be trusted."

Natasha stepped closer to you and tried to mediate the situation. "Y/n, maybe this isn't the time or place to discuss this."

You gave her a look. "Whose side are you on?"

Fury nodded. "That will be addressed, but not here and not now. Let's deal with the present situation instead. We have a national incident to resolve that you helped cause!"You hesitate, but knew that Fury would not reveal more at that moment. He was a master at keeping secrets.

You storm off in a huff, and the tension in the air was palpable. Despite your anger, you understand that the mission comes first. For the moment, you had to put your personal search for answers on hold.

A few hours passed, and then, as if the turbulent ones couldn't get any worse, Natasha entered the room. Your eyes immediately drifted to her, and you could see that Natasha had an uncertain look in her eyes. "I have absolutely no nerve right now for-"

"There's something you need to know," Natasha finally began in a worried and serious voice.

You braced yourself for the news to come, but when Natasha said, "Ross is here," your heart sank. Ross, the man who had been behind this one mission. The one who had given Nick Fury the mission to get you out as the only one and leave the others to rot. The name Ross carried a weight of anger, frustration, and fear that you couldn't shake.

Shock was written all over your face, your jaw, and your fists clenched again. Natasha knew she had to tread carefully. "I know how you feel about Ross, Y/n, but we need to keep our cool on this one. If he's here, the shit is really going to hit the fan." Your frustration boiled over. "Natasha..." Sighing, Natasha took a step closer, a hint of desperation in her eyes, but also determination. "I'm trying to protect you and keep our team together. We need to approach this situation with caution."

You look away, unable to return Natasha's gaze. Your hands shook, evidence of the storm of emotions raging inside you. "I can't just sit there and listen to him and pretend everything is okay! Because it’s definitely not!“ Natasha reached out, but pulled her hand back toward her. "I'm not asking you to pretend, but I am asking you to consider the consequences.. If we want to make a difference, we need to be strategic."

You sigh, the inner turmoil was evident in your eyes. "I don't know if I can do this..."

Natasha's expression softened. She understood the depth of your pain. "I know it's not easy. But I believe in you. And we're here to support you no matter what." Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "All right. But if he pushes my buttons, I can't guarantee I'll stay calm."

Natasha gave you a small, supportive smile. "We'll get through it together. We're a team, remember?"

You found it a bit ironic that she suddenly brought out the team player...but before you start anything again, you simply agreed.

As you and Natasha entered the conference room, it was clear that the atmosphere was tense. The presence of Rhodey, steve and the others added to the seriousness of the situation. The room was almost palpable. And Him..His speech made you nervous from the start. You really tried everything, but you just couldn't hide your anger

„You had left us behind!“

„They lied to you..and-“

"And what would you say, secretary ?“ You didn't quite know where you were about now, but the question pulled you out of your thoughts.

Ross paused for a moment, "how about..dangerous?" and looked at you.

Then something inside you snapped, and you lunged at him, your anger overpowering your mind. The room erupted into chaos as your teammates rushed to hold you back, their voices a cacophony of desperate pleas and shouts.

"Y/N, STOP!" commanded Steve, struggling to hold you back. Natasha, with years of experience in controlling dicey situations, was at the forefront of the fight. It took all her strength to restrain you, and she looked you in the eyes, silently pleading with you to regain control. But the rage from you was all encompassing.

Your voice was a storm as you screamed, and tears of rage ran down your face. "You left them for dead! After all they did to us, WE WERE CHILDREN!!! A-AND YOU KNEW EVERYTHING!! AND- NOW YOUR TALKING ABOUT..CONTROLL?!“

It was a battle of voices - some trying to calm you down, others yelling at you for your sudden outburst. It takes a few seconds till Steve and the others managed to keep you somewhat in check. Your seething anger was still evident, but you didn't immediately lunge at Ross. They kept you in hold, their voices stern but full of concern.

"Y/n, please," Steve whispered, trying to get through to you. "We need to take this calmly. Attacking him isn't helping anyone!"

Natasha, Tony, and the rest of the team echoed Steve's words. They did their best to stop you from breaking out and attacking Ross again but at that moment, He whispered something with a sinister smile on his face that it cut through the air like a dagger. Your eyes widened, and your rage flared up again, hotter and more fierce than before.

As you fought back against your teammates, secretary Ross taunted you with a cruel whisper. "There you are still asking why..look at you." Natasha's eyes stared at Ross in horror, but she couldn't reach him in time to silence him. Your struggle intensified, and your voice became a cry of rage, ready to break free.

It was Steve who suddenly yelled at Ross with the force of his authority and an unprecedented fury. "Just shut up! Please!“

Ross took a step back, stunned by the force of Steve's command. There was a silence in the room again, and your anger was suppressed but smoldering on. The team held their breath, and Natasha managed to calm you down, trying to get you back under control. "Y/N, he's not worth it." Your breathing was heavy, your anger still flowing through your veins like wildfire. But finally you conceded, defeat and the voice of reason slowly gained the upper hand over your rage.

Steve kept a watchful eye on Ross, making sure he remained calm. With a sense of urgency, he signaled the team to escort you out of the room. It was clear that the day had just taken a dark turn, and there was no room for further chaos.

When they returned, there was an uncomfortable silence in the room. You, on the other hand, were breathing heavily and were led out of the room by Natasha into a quiet corridor. "Y/n, you need to calm down!!!" began Natasha, her voice a mixture of sternness and concern.

But you weren't in the mood for admonishment. "Calm down?" you retorted, your eyes blazing with anger. "He's in there like nothing ever happened, and you want me to calm down?!"

An argument that had been simmering for months now wouldn't let you suppress it. You were angry, hurt, and felt betrayed. Your voice trembled with emotion as you spoke, "I just don't understand why you suddenly care, you ignored me for months! We were a team, and you shut me out like I meant nothing to you! And now, all of a sudden, you want to help me? Why?"

Natasha looked at you, her expression a mixture of guilt and despair. "Y/n, I'm sorry for what I did. I... was scared, okay? You reminded me so much of me, I was afraid you would come out of the red room too, I..I'm sorry.."

Tears filled your eyes, not just from anger, but from sheer frustration at the whole thing. "You could have talked to me! I kept trying, but you gave me clear signs that you didn't want to!"

Natasha took a step closer, "I understand how much pain I caused you- I was selfish, and I can't tell you enough how sorry I am! Please tell me what I can do to fix this.."

You feel the anger dissipate, leaving a feeling of helplessness. "I just want to have a normal life..."

Natasha sighed. She had read everything you had been through and felt so bad, "if you let me, I want to help you with that. We'll find a way to end all of this. Us as a team."

You hesitate. But before you say anything wrong, you just turn your back on her and disappear.

. . . . . .

You were sitting in your room, still overwhelmed by the situation. Natasha had gone back into the meeting and left you alone for now. The room felt cramped, and you couldn't shake the unease that had settled in your chest.

Minutes turned into hours as you struggled with your inner turmoil. Signing the Sokovia agreement meant giving up a level of autonomy you had never been comfortable with. You remember the days when Alexandra still gave orders and the lack of control over your own life. Now the thought of having the government dictate your actions, even if it was in the name of accountability, sent a shiver down your spine.

The soft knock on the door diverted your attention, and Natasha entered the room, "Can I sit down?" she asked, and when you nodded, she took a seat next to you and, without preamble, began to explain the outcome of the meeting.

"Steve didn't sign the agreement, so did Wanda and Sam...they believe it threatens our autonomy."

You nod, your heart beating in different directions. You understand Steve's unwavering commitment to individual freedom, but there was still a lot at stake. You had just settled back in, and now you're supposed to start it all over again? You look at Natasha with a mixture of confusion and fear. "What do you want me to do, Natasha? I don't know how to feel about this..."

Natasha's eyes widen. She didn't expect you to talk to her about it "I think we should consider signing, but only if the terms are reasonable and protect our freedom. If we work within the system, we can change it. I'm going to Vienna to discuss the agreement. You can come with me if you want.."

You hesitate, "I need time to think about it. I'm afraid to give up control...again."

Natasha reached out and gently grasped your hand, her touch was warm and reassuring. "Y/n, it's okay to be scared. It makes you human. It's not an easy decision, and it's not just about you. It's about all of us. We're not alone in this."

In the end, you decided to come along. Maybe you can still discuss something out. Natasha’s idea was to fly out the night before so that you could rest your heads. But that didn't work out quite as expected. At the hotel, the weight of the impending agreement was heavy in the air. You had always been a master at hiding your feelings, but Natasha had learned to read you like an open book. She could sense that something else was bothering you, something that went beyond the upcoming mission.

You sat facing each other, and the silence stretched like an unspoken abyss. Finally, Natasha broke it. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready. But I'm here if you want to tell me."

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes staring at the carpeted floor.

"It's just... it's not something I like to talk about, you know." Natasha sees you slowly stroking your stomach and remembers the scars she saw on you.

"I get it, I really do. I have my own scars."

Her voice carried the weight of a shared history, a history neither of you ever wanted. You take a deep breath,

"That man today..in sokovia I mean, I don't know how to say it, but I justify what I did, but, " Natasha continued to look at you as you let the thought back into your head, "I thought it would bring some peace in me to get my hands on one of those.. people for once." You play with your fingers and Natasha sits closer to you, "I had once had the chance to kill the person responsible for everything in my past and believe me when I tell you it was slow and painful, but in the end he was just another number on my conscience."

You look at her, feeling again that feeling when you found out Natasha lived through something similar to what you did, and it felt good to have someone who knows how it feels.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that Y/n. You didn’t deserve this, none of you did."

You look up at Natasha, tears glistening in your eyes. "that's why I can't quite trust these agreements. The idea of governments having control over people like us..that's just too close to what I've already experienced."

Natasha grabbed your hand. "I understand your fear. But not all governments are like you used to know. We need accountability to prevent abuse of power. And hey, if it doesn't work we'll just run away.“

you had to smile a little at the statement, “run away? where?" Natasha comes over to hear you say it in a somewhat laughing voice and is happy that she brought some cheer, "I don't know. their somewhere far, far away, where no one bothers us with it. We could start a new life...without pressure from outside.“

A faint smile worked its way onto your lips. "Nat, it's not often you talk about these things, you know. You usually keep everything under wraps."

Natasha sighed, her gaze wandering to the dark window. "I've learned to open up more, thanks to you. You've shown me the importance of not hiding from what we've done. We can't change what happened, but we can shape our future."

Then suddenly your facial expression changed again. Your eyes became blurry, and your breathing quickened.

Unbeknownst to you, you were experiencing a vivid flashback to the horrific moments of the lab. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you let them fall.

Natasha recognized the signs immediately. She gently grasped your trembling hand. In a soothing tone, Natasha whispered, "Y/N, it's all right. You are here with me now. You're safe."

Your voice trembled as she spoke, "I ... I can't ... I can't control it, It's like I'm back there, and it hurts. It's just- what’s going on with me right now??"

Natasha continued to hold your hand, offering unwavering support. "I know, sweetheart. Just breathe. Focus on the sound of my voice. You're not alone, and you're not there anymore. You are here with me, and we will get through this together." You close your eyes and try to breathe slowly and deeply as you follow Nat's instructions. Gradually, your racing heartbeat slowed, and the intense emotions that had overwhelmed you began to subside.

As your breathing stabilized, Natasha wiped away your tears with a gentle touch. "You are so strong, Y/n. You've been through unimaginable horrors, but you're still here. I'm proud of you, and I'm here to help you heal."

You open your eyes and her gaze met Natasha's. Gratitude filled your teary eyes. "Thank you for being here..." Natasha smiled warmly, „let's try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day, and we will face it together." You moved under the covers and got yourself into a more comfortable position. With Natasha by your side, you feel safer than you have in a long time.

Natasha turned off the bedside lamp and settled down next to you, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and security as Natasha's arm was gently draped over you.

The atmosphere in the conference room was tense. Diplomats and representatives of various nations were gathered to discuss the Sokovia agreements.

As the debate continued, you couldn't help but scan the room for potential threats. Years of training had instilled in you the need for vigilance.

Natasha noticed your concentration and placed a reassuring hand on your thigh, which was hidden under the table.

"Relax," Natasha whispered. You nodded, but the discomfort was still in your eyes. You knew what was at stake in this conference, and despite the rocky history between you and Natasha, you had no intention of anything happening to the Black Widow.

The debate was getting heated, the voices were getting louder. However, just as you were gaining a semblance of control, you hear a sudden scream, „EVERYBODY GET DOWN!“ A sudden explosion shook the building. Acting instinctively, you shoved Natasha to the ground and covered her with your own body.

"Y/N!" screamed Natasha, the shock in her voice clear as the room fell with smoke and debris.

As the dust began to settle, Natasha's gaze lingered on you, and the relief that overcame her was palpable. "Are you okay?" asked Natasha, her voice trembling with concern.

You slowly force yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in your side. You grit your teeth and try to ignore the stabbing pain. You had taken the brunt of the blast, and a piece of wood from the protest was now lodged in your side. "I'm fine," you moan through the pain. It was a half-truth.

Your vision blurred, and you knew you couldn't keep up the facade for long. Natasha looked around and when she turned to you, her face dropped, "You idiot!!!"

Your eyes flickered, struggling to focus on Natasha's face. "I-I've been through worse," you muttered, your voice a mere whisper. Natasha's green eyes bored into yours, and she refused to accept the half-hearted appeasement. "Don’t do that. You're hurt, and you need help! There's no shame in showing weakness, especially not now!"

The pain was relentless, and you felt your body weaken. It was hard to hide the fear that crept into your eyes. You know you're fighting a losing battle.

"It's all right. I've got you."

The pain was relentless, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, it was time to let your guard down. You sigh, and your gaze lingered on Natasha. Tears well up in your eyes, a mixture of pain, exhaustion, and a flood of emotions you've had to suppress for years.

"I think it looks bad..." you whisper.

Natasha moved closer and pressed on the wound, "stay with me Y/n!" she said in a panic. "Help is on the way, you hear me? Stay awake!"

You remained snuggled together amidst the chaos as the sound of sirens drew closer. Your breaths became shallower, and you whispered. "I-I'm scared, Natasha.." Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes as she watched your strength fade. "I know..but I’m here." she said softly, her voice full of emotion. "I'm here with you."

You try to hold on, but the world around you blurs more and more. The last thing you see was Natasha's crying eyes before the darkness caught up with you and you passed out.

In a panic, Natasha called for help, her voice filled with desperation. She clung to your hand as paramedics finally arrived, rushing to get you the help you desperately needed.

In the ensuing chaos, Natasha's heart raced as she watched the paramedics try to stabilize you.

And then it hit her. Her eyes widened with a mixture of shock and realization. She had never felt such deep, intense concern for anyone before, much less in the midst of a chaotic situation like this.

In the past, Natasha had prided herself on being a hardened, emotionless agent who buried her feelings deep inside because she believed she could no longer care about anyone. Love was an abstract concept she didn't think she could ever truly understand or embrace.

But when she saw your state, Natasha's heart raced and her thoughts became a whirlwind. The thought of love, something she had avoided for so long, suddenly seemed not only possible, but undeniable. She felt something for you that was deeper than anything she had ever experienced.

A series of emotions and questions filled Natasha's mind. She wondered if this was love. What did love really mean? Was it the feeling that made her so protective of you at that bad moment? Her desire for you to recover and get better was a force she couldn't ignore.

While the paramedics continued their work, Natasha continued to struggle inside. She had always been the fierce, unyielding Black Widow, but the presence of you had triggered something completely new and unexpected in her. It was as if a part of her was awakening after years of sleep.

In the midst of chaos and uncertainty, Natasha had come to terms with her feelings. And when she realized it, she couldn't help but wonder if love had finally caught up with her in the most unexpected way - through you

As the paramedics managed to stabilize you and prepare for transport, Natasha clung to your hand, her grip firm but tender. She looked at you with a mixture of determination and vulnerability.

"You're going to be okay, Y/n" she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "I won't let anything happen to you." The paramedics carefully lifted you onto a stretcher, and Natasha walked alongside them as they rushed you to the waiting ambulance.

The journey to the hospital felt like an eternity, but Natasha remained by your side, never letting go of your hand. She kept talking to you, reassuring you that you were going to make it through.

When you finally arrived at the hospital, Natasha refused to leave your side. She watched as the medical team rushed you into the emergency room, her heart pounding in her chest. She was no longer just the Black Widow; she was a woman who had found love in the midst of chaos.

The hours that followed were filled with uncertainty and anxiety. Natasha stayed at the hospital, pacing the waiting room, her thoughts consumed by you.

She paced the sterile hallway, her face etched with concern, replaying the chaotic events in her mind. Natasha had never been so terrified of losing someone as she was now. She blamed herself for not being able to protect you from the blast, for not sensing the danger sooner. As she walked back and forth, a familiar figure approached from the other end of the corridor.

Maria.

When Maria saw Natasha, her expression shifted from relief to trepidation. Her presence only added to the mounting tension. Natasha had known Maria for years, and they had shared countless missions and secrets. But this time, Natasha's usual composure wavered.

"Natasha,“ Maria said cautiously as she drew closer, "I heard what happened, and I needed to come. How is she?”

Natasha turned to face her, her green eyes simmering with anger. "You needed to come? Do you know what you've done, Maria?" Her tone was sharp, laced with accusation.

Maria's face paled as she braced herself for Natasha's outburst. "I know what you're thinking, but we had no choice.."

"Do you even know what she went through, what she's been carrying with her for the past few days?!“ Maria winced at the harsh truth in Natasha's words. "I was only following orders," Maria stammered, trying to justify her actions.

Natasha's anger flared even more. "Orders? You think orders absolve you of responsibility? You left her alone!”

The exchange between Natasha and Maria attracted the attention of a few passing hospital staff, who kept a respectful distance. Maria felt a swell of regret and guilt as she struggled to maintain her composure. She had made the choices she believed were necessary to keep you safe, but they had left you in tears.

"I wish there had been another way."

Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes as she confronted her, "Do you think that matters to her right now? Do you think it eases her pain?"

"I don't know, Natasha!" Maria admitted. "I don't know how to make it right, okay?”

The weight of the situation was overwhelming, and both women were filled with frustration. As they argued, a nurse approached, offering some news about your condition. Natasha's anger subsided as she listened to the updates. You were stable but still unconscious, and the doctor was optimistic about your state.

"Natasha, I understand that I made a terrible mistake, one I can't change," Maria confessed, her eyes filled with regret. Natashas stern expression slightly softened, listened to Maria's plea. She too understood now the severity of your situation and the lasting effects of the horrors you’d endured in the lab.

"I promise I'll be silence, but please let me be there when she wakes up. She'll be terrified if she sees strangers, and we can't let her relive that trauma," Maria pleaded, her voice trembling.

Natasha took a deep breath, torn between her concern for you and her doubts about allowing Maria to be there for you. Maria's words had a ring of sincerity that Natasha couldn't ignore.

Hours passed and a days passed when you slowly stirred, your eyelids heavy as you gradually became aware of your surroundings. The sterile scent of the hospital room mingled with the soft hum of machinery.

Panic began to creep in as you noticed the IV line and the beeping monitors attached to you. Your heart raced, and you tried to sit up but was quickly restrained by the devices keeping you in place.

"N-No! Get them off! Get t-them off!" You cried, your voice trembling with fear. You tugged at the IV line and the wrist restraints, the flashbacks from your time in the lab flooding your mind. The sensation of being bound and prodded by was unbearable.

Maria and Natasha, who had been sitting nearby, were by you’re side in an instant. Natasha tried to speak soothingly, "Y/N, you're safe. You're in a hospital. These are just precautionary measures!“

But you were beyond hearing those words. Your eyes darted wildly around the room, the memories of your past trauma overshadowing the present.

"No! Please, don't hurt me!" You pleaded, your voice breaking.

Maria's heart ached as she saw the agony in your eyes. She understood the depths of your suffering more than anyone else in the room. "Y/n, it’s Maria, it's okay. You're not alone. You're safe!" she said gently, reaching to touch your hand. Your breaths were coming in rapid gasps, and you were on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. Natasha and Maria exchanged a worried look.

Natasha leaned in closer, her tone unwavering. "Y/N, focus on my voice. Take slow, deep breaths. You're not in that place anymore. You're with us, and we won't let anything happen to you."

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to control your breathing. The images of your past began to fade, and slowly, you registered Natasha and Maria by your side. The harsh reality of the hospital room softened, and you realized that you was indeed in a different place.

Maria continued to hold your hand, offering a reassuring presence. "That's it, you're doing great!"

Bit by bit, your racing heart began to slow, and your grip on the IV line relaxed. Natasha and Maria maintained a gentle, supportive presence, offering words of comfort and security.

As the minutes passed, your breathing steadied, and your eyes started to regain focus. The panic that had overtaken you was slowly subsiding, but you remained fragile.

When you saw Maria, the betrayal ran deep. Her eyes met yours and you couldn't contain the fury that welled up inside you. The fact that Maria had known everything from the beginning had left a bitter taste in your mouth, and your anger simmered just beneath the surface.

Maria saw the fury in your eyes and understood the depth of her betrayal. Without a word, she rose from her seat and began to walk towards the door, and Natasha whispers a -Thank you for helping- before Maria leaves the room.

Your body ached with every movement, and the stark, sterile scent of the hospital room hit your senses. Memories of the explosion rushed back. Struggling to sit up, you noticed the bandages on your side and felt the dull throb of pain. Your wide eyes darted around the room, searching for answers, but what you saw next sent a shock of fear coursing through you.

Natasha, was there, but she appeared hurt, with a few bruises in her face. Your chest tightened with dread. "Natasha, what happened? Are you okay?"

Hours passed and Natasha told you everything that had happened since you were out. You had to work hard to understand everything that happened. The Winter Soldier is back, but is now called Bucky? And Steve had been his friend for years and now they're on the run together? great. The Avengers? Ripping each other apart. Even more awesome.

Everything in one, just falls apart.

As you watch the news in the hospital room, the announcement of the upcoming battle at the airport weighed heavily on you. You're part of the Avengers now, a family of sorts, and the prospect of fighting your own friends tore you apart.

"Y/n," Natasha began, "I know this is a lot to process. But I have to go. I need to try and prevent more damage within the team." Her eyes were filled with a mix of determination and sadness. You’ll let her go, to think all of it through. And a decision was taken.

You won't sign it.

You had fought too hard for your freedom, and you couldn't put that on the line again now. You were aware that you would be messing with some of your friends, but you didn't care at the moment. So with your decision, you left the hospital.

When you arrived at the airport, pure chaos had broken out. Some plane parts lay destroyed on the ground, everything was in smoke and everyone was dealing with themselves,

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" asked Natasha with concern. "You're still hurt. You should rest!"

Your eyes met Natasha's and she knew immediately something was wrong, "I can't just stand by, Nat. I have to make my own decisions."

Natasha's heart sank as she locked eyes with you. There was no denying it anymore; you made a choice. Her steps were cautious as she approached you, concern evident in her voice. "Y/n, you shouldn't be here.”

Your expression remained resolute, though your eyes reflected inner turmoil. "I appreciate your concern, Natasha, but I've made my choice. I can't sign the Accords. I'm standing up for what I believe is right and so should you. I can't just follow orders blindly."

Natasha was about to say something when Tony interrupted, "This has gone on long enough. I'll make sure it ends.“ He landed right in front of you, "Sorry, Y/n, but I can't let this continue."

"If you think that's going to work, you're mistaken, Tony and I’m not here to fight.”

Tony tries to stay calm, he knew he wouldn't have a chance against you, “I’m just!-“ He takes a breath, “Im trying to keep the avengers together..”

“But you didn't contribute much to it.” you keep your expression straight and you notice how it's starting to get on Tony's nerves. You had done what you were here for and looked at Natasha for a moment. Then you turned around and wanted to leave, but Tony had other plans. He pointed a gauntleted finger at you. "Stand down, Y/n. This is your last warning."

Your expression was a mixture of defiance and uncertainty. You knew the repercussions of your choice but believed you was fighting for what was right. You adopted a defensive stance, keenly aware of your physical limitations in the face of Tony's advanced technology.

Tony wasted no time; his repulsors fired with precision. You expertly evaded his blasts. Natasha, also sprang into action. She darted between you both, trying to intercept the fight. Her attempts to restrain you and calm Tony went unnoticed as they both pressed on.

"Both of you, stop! This isn't the way! Y/n, you don't have to do this. Tony, please, let's find another solution!" But the combatants seemed deaf to her pleas.

As the battle reached its peak, Steve, realizing the futility of the conflict, made his move. He dashed towards you and Tony, his shield raised. You staggered back from a repulsor blast, momentarily stunned. Natasha seized the opportunity to physically intervene, wedging herself between the two of you, arms outstretched to keep them apart. Her voice was tinged with urgency. "Enough!! This is ridiculous!"

You and Tony exchanged heated glances, still panting from the fight. Tony took a step back, his face obscured by the visor. He deactivated his repulsors, lowering his guard, and looked at Natasha with an inquisitive tone.

"Natasha, whose side are you on now?" He had expected Natasha to back him up. Her efforts to defuse the situation and her willingness to stop their fight had left him questioning her allegiance. Natasha's expression remained stoic, though concern shone in her eyes. She had always been a master of hiding her emotions, but the truth couldn't stay concealed any longer. She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"I'm on the side of reason, Tony," she replied, her voice calm but resolute. "I'm here to prevent a fight that we can't afford.“

Steve, standing nearby with his shield at the ready, watched the exchange closely. He knew Natasha's intentions were to keep the peace, even if it meant going against his own stance.

As you saw Tony struggling to regain control of his emotions, you seized the opportunity. You lunged at him, delivering a precise blow to his chest plate. It created a temporary vulnerability, granting a brief respite. Your breathing was heavy, your determination unshaken. The adrenaline coursed through your veins as you assessed the situation.

Amidst the chaos, Natasha and Steve rushed over, concern etched on their faces. They both tried to reason with you, their voices filled with urgency and care. Natasha, in particular, took a step closer but you had reached your limit. You shake your head and backed away, your voice heavy with frustration. "I can't, Natasha. I can't listen anymore. It's always someone trying to tell me what's right, what's best. But what about what I think?”

As Natasha gazed into your eyes, she saw a fire burning within you. The confrontation was escalating, but Natasha felt a need to reveal her true feelings. Her voice was strained as she confessed, "Y-You don't understand!... I love- I love you, and that's why I'm doing this!"

"What?"

Natasha took a deep breath, her resolve waning for a moment as she revealed a vulnerability she had long kept hidden. "I just... I don't want to see you get hurt. We've been through so much together, and I care about you more than I should!..“

You was taken back by Natasha's confession.

Overwhelmed by the emotional storm and the weight of her confession, you couldn't process it all at once. You knew you needed time to think, to sort out your own feelings, and to come to terms with the unexpected revelation.

Seeing Tony getting back on his feet and realizing that the battle was still raging around you, you decided to withdraw. You ran off, seeking a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.

You needed to make sense of the chaos, both on the battlefield and within yourself. Your next decisions would be crucial, not just for your own future but for the fate of the Avengers. In the distance, the sounds of the ongoing battle echoed, but your mind was focused on the internal struggle – a conflict of emotions, loyalty.

TAGLIST: @marvelwomen-simp @natsxwife @blacklightsposts @yourmamacom @cd-4848 @kksalexa @arualdcg @screechcat @imnatobsessed @maggieromanov @mrs-johansson @fuxk182 @vivs46

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #dom!natasha x reader #the avengers #natasha #natasha romonova

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kaledya · 2 months

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HOWDY!! @marquisev

Overlord Arc general review:

First, OH MY GOD!!!! What level is this diyslog writing??????

First of all, I loved all the dialouges between Zestial and Alastor ı can READ them for hours. Everything they say is great And since they are both intelligent men,

it is not clear how their conversation will end.Sometimes it feels like Alastor is a Fly about to be caught in a spider's web.But Zestial expressions His speech is so vague that neither Alastor nor the reader knows what the outcome will be.But it's nice that Alastor stays calm despite this and approaches the event and sentences intelligently.

In short, look at this part And the scene at the end where Zestial warns Alastor about Constantine was very cool, it was a very nice description!!

Also The Tournament It's also a great detail to enter that area by measuring the weight of the Overlords!!. "Only those who are monsters enough can step here."

It was also very nice when Alastor met Rosie and talked to Serenity after entering!!

Then the Overlords gather and give a speech.I loved every dialogue here Vox's reaction to Alastor Alastor doesn't have his chair yet (you shouldn't have stayed AFK for 7 years)

And my favorite part is when things are getting heated, Lolicia comes out in a very cool way. It was really great how she supported Alastor and sat next to him.

I really like Valentino and Vox's dialogues.Vox sort of takes on the role of constantly keeping Val at line. (You know no one wants to starta a War in there)

The part about the gangs was really good And it's great that they gave this task to Alastor.(You were gone for 7 years, now you will remember the hierarchy and obey orders)

I really love using Serenity, she loves how she acts as the one pulling the strings no matter what the subject is.A kind of news-bringer It's also nice for Vox to say "I buy my information from the best source" and look at Serenity.

In addition, Lolicia declares her alliance with Alastor with nobility and bloodliness as always. It was seriously a great scene.

And the last scene where Serenity looks at the Lolicia and says "After all, Sir Pentious is not the only one who left his region alone, right" and the episode ended there was VERY EXCITING

I was like: Who WILL WAIT FOR 2 DAYS FOR NEXT EP!!!

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The dialogues in this episode were great It was really fun to read the chaos of Lolicia's inner thoughts.Like Sherlock Holmes, because of Misfortune's warning. counted all the possibilities in her mind and eliminated some of them.

And Alastor mentally analyzes the Overlords on the Table and lists what his current position is and what he needs to do, etc. It's really fun to read.

And it was really cool that Vox then yelled at Alastor and said he always ran away like a wet dog..(ah Vox you found the last person to fall in love with)

And it was very cool that after this sentence, Alastor got really angry and his voice changed and the atmosphere became completely tense.

I also loved the tension between Serenity and Velvet, they have a really good exchange of words.

And Lolicia deciding to take action against the fey, assuming the rules. But on the other hand, Al thinks that this mission will cause a rift between him and Charlie.

And it is very powerful that Serenity comes out and speaks for Alastor as things go even further downhill.

Every overlord (including Alastor and Lolicia):Wtf??

Lolica: wait a minute is that...

Misfortune: What? (I'm defending my dad, okay?)

This chapter was really exciting and fun to read!!

------

This chapter was simply amazing. You write Serenity really well. I love the way you reflect her smart, quick-witted and sneaky attitude. It was a lot of fun to read!!

Also watching his little fight with Velvet Seriously, their banter was great and there was a lot of dialogue that made me laugh.

I think my favorite was "why shouldn't I give 1 coin to the beggar" to Velvet in Serenity's dialogue.

And Lolicia noticing the rope between Alastor and Serenity and theorizing about it She thinks about pulling it out, and just as she's about to listen, the thread disappears from the sound Velvet's gum makes.

Frankly, I wonder if Lolicia will say something to Alastor about this purple Rope !!

And it was also very cool during Velvet and Serenity's conversation, where Serenity told Velvet that she could never beat her in a Strategic battle and Velvet remained unanswered.

It was very nice when Serenity said goodbye to Alastor and left him wondering about more things.

And the Battle between Alastor and Vox was seriously awesome TO I read the song you wrote And you pay so much attention to details You seriously look at the meaning of every word like WOW🛐🛐. Simply a perfect arc. My eyes are truly blesed

I'm also very excited for what will happen after this arc.How will they go about destroying the gang? What will Lolicia's role be in this mission?what about Charlie's reaction ro what did her two member of her hotel AAAAA SO EXCITING

----

Arts:

FIRST OF ALL THE DRAWINGS WERE AWESOME AND VERY CUTE!!!!!?!

Jophiel and Abaddon are so cute It was very funny that Abaddon carved a statue of Raphael.

She is beautiful in the picture of her walking with Michael The picture of her exchanging letters with Uriel was really cute!!

And she was so cute in the picture where she was leaning on Gabriel's head

AND SERIOUSLY THANK YOU FANARTS, ARCHANGELS ARE REALLY GOOD IN YOUR STYLE 🛐🛐🛐🛐

And finally the Constantine on the Ring box You have drawn the Constsntine wonderfully and the ring and the box are in the Lolicia Theme (genius idea,). As soon as I find the energy to draw, I will draw the Lolicia version of this art!!

Seriously, thank you so much for the gifts!!!*Crying from Happiness

AND CONGRATULATIONS ON 100,000K It's really AMAZING that you wrote such a quality, creative and long work in such a short time. I have endless respect for you🫡🫡🛐🛐🛐

And most importantly SUMMER THEMED LOLICIA ART!!! OH MY GOD THEY ARE SO CUTE. I LOVE THAT THEIR SWIMWEAR IS FROM THE 30'S AND A LOVE THE COMPOSITION AND I LOVED LOLICIA'S BRAIDS, IT LOOKS SO SWEET

And the little Constsntine on top looks so cute too!!

And again, thank you so much for loving this AU and putting so much effort into it.And thank you very much for introducing me to OCs like Lolicia Abaddon Verdelet and Hürrem. It is truly an honor to meet a talented writer like you!!!

and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

And take care!! ❤️🫂🫂

#HazbinHotelSSAU #HazbinHotelSerenity #HazbinHotelConstantine #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel au

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anawrites3 · 2 years

Text

Sladick royal au, part 6.5

something short and silly, also inspired by @poiverine’s art and the brainriot we had over it (a looong) time ago 💕 hope it’ll make your day even a bit better 😚

/ / / / /

Slade pressed the back of Dick's hand to his lips to place a kiss there and his husband tensed, in a way that reminded Slade of the times before their wedding. Times, when Dick wasn't entirely at ease with the open affections, when even the slightest touch made him blush and tense up, breath hitching as if Slade was doing something forbidden.

Slade hid his smile behind the palm of Dick's hand. Ah, how he missed those moments sometimes.

”Your Majesty.” Dick hissed at him subtly. Something he wouldn't dare to do before, too scared to really say what was on his mind. But now? Now he grumbled and complained a lot, not holding back his thoughts even a bit and telling Slade off whenever he thought he did something wrong.

It never ceased to make Slade smile, how much Dick changed over all those years.

”Yes, my love?”

”Could you, please, stop kissing me?”

Slade looked down at him and raised his eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. He didn't let go of Dick's hand, lips brushing against his skin with every word.

”Stop kissing you?” he repeated. ”Oh, am I kissing you right now, little bird?”

”Yes, you are, you asshole.” Dick hissed again. Slade considered pulling him into a proper kiss right there, just to annoy him some more. ”And I would really appreciate it if you stopped, my king.”

”You know I don't control it, little bird. I do it out of habit.” Slade hummed, looking away again. The diplomat in front of them didn't notice anything, too busy with his speech and notes. ”It's like breathing for me, to display my love for you whenever I can.”

”I'm aware.” Dick huffed. ”But we both know it's not the case this time.”

”Oh? And how can you be so sure of that?”

”Because you've been looking my father straight in the eye since the meeting started. And I fear that if you do it any longer, while kissing my hand in public as well, he will finally reach for his blade.”

Slade teared his eye away from Wayne's face, twisted in a furious scowl.

”Your father is free to do whatever he wishes. Who am I, to refuse him a fight if he'll ask for one? That would be impolite of me.”

The smirk on Slade's lips was hidden by Dick's hand but he was sure Dick could feel it on his skin.

”Ah yes, because you worry so much about being impolite.” Dick stopped himself from rolling his eyes. ”Especially when it comes to my father.”

”I have no idea what you're talking about, Richard. You know how much I adore king Wayne. My dear father in law.”

Dick pressed his lips into a thin line to stop the laughter from spilling out. A wide smile broke onto his face despite his best efforts, so he hid it into the fur hood of his cloak so no one would notice.

”Careful there, Your Majesty.” he teased. ”Or you might lose your other eye.”

”That would be a shame, truly.” Slade drawled. ”I would no longer be able to look your father straight in the eye while kissing your hand.”

”Aha, so you do confess to your crimes!”

”Do I?”

”I'm pretty sure you do.”

”You're a bad influence on me then, little bird.”

Dick looked at him fondly and curled his fingers around Slade's wrist, ”Guess I am, huh.”

[Masterlist of the au]

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rosecoloreddesire · 2 years

Text

Call Out My Name (Austin Butler)

Summary: Needy Austin has missed you while filming Elvis and only you know the way to make him feel better. And maybe because your manager is the best wing person ever.

Note: Hi y’all! I’ve got midterms rn so writing was a bit slower this week! Hope y’all enjoy this quick blurb! And I’m kinda struggling on ideas for part 3 of SDB :/ but I’ll let y’all have your fill of Austin ;) SMUT AHEAD!

“So how’s the filming going?”

“It would be going better if my gorgeous girlfriend would be here with me,” he chuckled into the phone softly. Your heart fluttered and you smiled to yourself,” C’mon, modelin’ all day in that gorgeous Prada…or Gucci....has got me missin’ you a whole lot, baby.” His southern drawl from playing Elvis still thick. You smiled as you continued your walk. You and Austin had been dating for a couple months now as you met at a party your friend had planned.

She brought a bunch of A listers and that’s where you saw Austin for the first time. He had his long hair yet and you curled your fingers in it immediately. He chuckled as you had sat next to him in the dimly lit penthouse.

“Oh wow, you’re Y/N! I just saw your cover piece on Vogue the other day! You looked amazing. I really love the whole vintage vibe you’ve got going on.” He smiled as you puckered your lips and placed a hand on under your chin.

“You flatter me, Mr. Butler,” he shook his head as he stared down at his drink,” now what’s a nice man like you doin’ sitting her all alone.” His eyes twinkled in the soft lighting as he blew out a smoke cloud.

“Um, I just auditioned for a movie a couple days ago and I haven’t heard nothin’ so I’m gettin’ a little nervous.” His hands moved with his slow pace of speech and you found yourself suddenly anchored to the cheap bar stool you found yourself sat upon.

“Hey, I bet you did great! I still get nervous getting gigs just for shooting commercials. I can’t imagine actual movies, ya know? What did you audition for?” You placed a hand on his arm, the heat between your two bodies seemingly stopped time around you as the party’s ramped up noise silenced all at once.

“Uh, Elvis. I auditioned to play him. Which, in hindsight, probably ain’t gonna be me but that’s alright.” Your eyes widened and you put a hand to your lips.

“I’m such a huge fan of Elvis! You know that Vogue cover you were talking about? Most of that was inspired by the whole Presley family! You’re kidding! That’s amazing! Honestly with the black hair I think you’d be a dead ringer, Austin.” Your skin began to heat up as he stared at you in bewilderment. You had just fangirled over Elvis Presley in front of *maybe* Elvis Presley reincarnated. You hid your face in your hands as his laugh was drowned out by the pulsing music in the room. He took one of your hands and laid a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“I don’t think I’m that nervous anymore, Y/N. I hope I do you proud.”

“Hey, you’ll survive a little time without me.” You giggled into the phone as you pulled an ID card out of your new purse. The security guard in front of you smiled, giving you a nod. You move the phone to your other ear as Austin continued to whine as you giggled.

“God, Y/N. Your manager sent me a picture of you in that outfit today and god I think they know what you do to me, gorgeous.” Once again you snicker as you place the ID card around your neck. You fiddle with it as you turn the doorknob slowly. The door reading Elvis Presley. He has your f/c scarf around his hand as he talks to you. His back facing you as you close the door.

“How about you stop playing with my scarf you stole and you play with me, Mister Butler?” His whole body tensed at your sultry voice. The dressing room phone was all but thrown out of his way as he strode toward you. His hand threading though your hair and pulling your head back. His teeth scrape against your throat as your hands drag down his chest. His desperation evident by his panting moans. Those lace shirts from him filming Elvis were really doing a number on you. And you think they’ve been doing a number on him as his nipples perk up at the small act of attention. He clears his throat as he breathily chuckles.

“You look fucking perfect.” His voice came out shaky as if he was trying to stop himself from ravishing you right then and there. He takes the faux fur coat that decorated your shoulders so he could take a quick minute to control himself.

“Mm, and I bet I look more perfect being fucked.” You whispered as he stared down at you, eyes darkening by the minute. Your hands intertwine at the nape of his neck and play with the back of his hair. The black strands of hair falling in front of his face as you winked.

“Dirty words, princess.”

“Only for you, baby.” A intercom call breaks the tension between you. Austin reluctantly lets go of you and you are fully aware of how heated your skin is. How wet you are. How fucking hot that jet black hair is as it drapes just perfectly against his forehead.

“Austin Butler to set. Beale Street Chase Scene,” you sit on the table right next to him as he stands in front of you,”Y/N L/N may come too.“ he smiled as you began to sit back in your dress showing that you had no panties. His voice caught in his throat as he tried to ignore the director’s many texts.

“Baby,” he whispered,” Yes, I got your message for rehearsal, Baz. I-“ Austin cleared his throat as you began to push the straps down on your top. He stopped the voice message. He was mesmerized and wasn’t even paying attention to Baz anymore. The texts however continued brutally as you got down on your knees. Austin bit his lip as you palmed his growing bulge in his pants.

“Touch me, Aus.” You whisper as he puts a finger to his lips. He slips the top of your dress across up your shoulders and you pout. He takes one of his many jackets and places it on your shoulder.

“I-I gotta go, darlin’. I-I’ll make it up to you I promise.” You nod as he helps you off the floor. You walk to the mirror and smile. You fix the little bit of makeup that moved around your face and took Austin’s hand.

“Y/N! There’s my girl!!” You feel arms wrap around you as you squeal. The older woman fixed your hair as you flush. She looked as beautiful as ever and you still couldn’t believe she called herself your friend!

“Mrs. Presley! Oh my lord!” You put a hand to your chest as she giggled. You give her a big hug as she continues to laugh at you.

“I was wondering where our Elvis was! When did you manage to get back?” She put her hands on her hips as you flushed. Lisa Marie makes her way to stand next you as you hug her just as lovingly as Priscilla.

“Well, Alix managed to help me get a flight from London to Australia real quick. They are my favorite right now. Though it was a VERY quick last minute decision…thank the lord my designers like Austin. Otherwise I think I’d be here in only a jacket.” You smiled as Priscilla gave you a knowing look. Lisa scoffed at her mother’s teasing gaze.

“Well, you look gorgeous. I can see why he was late, Y/N.” Your skin felt ablaze as you heard Baz call for filming the scene. You and the girls found a place to sit to watch Austin’s performance. Austin looked amazing. The cadillac roared to life as the camera man got sat in next to him in the passenger seat. Austin smoothed his hair back and his jaw went slack. His eyes darkened as Elvis became the forefront of his whole façade. A chill ran down your spine as the tires squealed, the anger that rested heavily in his eyes sending a blaze through your skin. You didn’t think this would be as hot as it is but boy were you wrong.

“Hey, ladies,” a soft whisper brings your dream state to a pause as you turn,”Y/N? When did you get back? You look great!” Tom wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side. You lean onto his shoulder and Baz yells for a cut. The extras being flooded onto the next scene.

“I just got back today! I wanted to surprise Aus. Though I think I may have surprised more than just him.” You smile as Priscilla chuckles beside you. You look back up and see that Baz is showing Austin how the scene was looking and by the look of Austin’s face he was ecstatic on how it went. His boyish smile curled against his lips as Baz patted him on the back.

“Take five! I gotta figure out the placement for everyone real quick! Thank you!” Austin all but ran to you as Baz organized the extras on the streets. His warm fingers fell deftly against your cheek and he kissed you softly.

“How’s my best girl,” Priscilla poked him in the side and he laughed. His hands went straight up into the air,” I was talking to you, Priscilla.” His voice dripping into the southern drawl you were addicted to. The two Presley’s laughed as Austin scratched the back of his neck bashfully.

“I’m just messing with you, Austin. I’m going to go and grab us some waters quick, Y/N.” You’re about to protest when Austin shushes you.

“Do you know how hard it is to focus when I know you're here in this beautiful thing? Lord, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby.” You smile as you trail your fingers down his chest as he hums. You could feel his heart wanting to beat right out of his chest as adrenaline pumped through him.

“Want me to make it harder for you?” You place a small kiss on his neck. Careful not to leave a mark from your lip-gloss. His lip is caught between his teeth as he imagines every damn possibility of having you on this set.

“We’re ready for you, Elvis!” You smile as he groans in defeat.

“Oh, Mr. Presley. I think someone needs you! I’ll need you more later, Elvis.” You push his shoulder lightly as he grasps at his chest feigning an illness. You roll your eyes as he kisses your cheek.

“This isn’t over, L/N.” He whispers into the shell of your ear and turns around. His posture straightening up but the tenseness still visible in his shoulders. Priscilla’s hand rests on your shoulder and your heart skips a beat.

“Nice play, Y/N.” She winks and you melt into your chair in embarrassment.

--------------------------

“Aus, wait- ah!”

“I thought I was Elvis to you, little girl.”

“You seriously want to play this right now, Aus-uhn!”

“You look so pretty spread out like this. “

“Aus, please. I-I’m sorry. Just fuc-”

“Ah ah! No dirty words, darlin’.”

“Austin please. Ah- don’t stop.” You gripped his shoulders as he pounded mercilessly inside of you. His cock dragging deliciously along your walls. His lips busy sucking your hardened nipples into his mouth. If the sound of his cock thrusting sloppily into your wet pussy was any hint to what the two of you were doing, the groan as his lips popped off of your tits would.

“Call out my name, Y/N.”

“Austin! Please! More! Austin~!”

“Fuck, I’ve missed your pussy, baby doll.” Your eyes rolled back as he played that damn Elvis card again. Your nails drag down his chest as he pushes you against the wall, roughly. Nobody better walk past this damn closet. Austin’s hand trailed from your chest to your neck, fingers twisting around your throat as his thrusts plunge his cock deeper within you. You arch your back in the small space making Austin let out a stuttering moan.

“Austin, p-please! I’m gonna cum! Plea-“ His lips are soft against yours compared to the thrusts rubbing you against the door. You begin to tear up as white dots fill your vision.

“Let me see you cum, pretty girl,” his unrelenting pace pushes you to the delicious edge you crave,” that’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so tight. Shit, baby.” His eyes never leave yours as you squeeze around him. His pace stuttered as you drag your nails along his chest and nipples. His climax nears as he shouts. The searing release flooding inside you.

“Aus, you’re so big.” He chokes on his groan and stops pulling out of you. You giggle as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

“Baby, I might not stop if you say shit like that again…Y/N..” Your sultry moment however is interrupted by the intercom like earlier.

“Mr. Butler to set. Mr. Butler to set. Miss L/N to his trailer please so he can actually focus this time?” Baz’s belly laugh echoed and you push Austin away. Your skin flushed from the embarrassment and the ecstasy of your orgasm. With your dress finally on you give him a quick kiss. He helps you situate the whole thing and he kisses your neck softly.

“Mm, if I had more time I would’ve taken my time to taste you, baby.” His lips were still glossy from your earlier endeavors but the intercom speaker squeaked and you opened the door to the closet and winked.

“See you later, Mr. Presley!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, doll!”

#austin butler #elvis presley #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #rosecoloreddesire #austin butler fic #austin butler drabble #austinbutlerimagine #austin butler smut #smut

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ch4rryc0smos · 18 days

Text

REVERIE | 15

RATHER LIE THAN TELL YOU I'M IN LOVE.

synopsis ┊kenji sato returns to japan, leaving behind everything he's ever known. and fate plays a cruel joke on him, when hazel vellichor walks back into his life, albeit not by choice. she makes a trip to japan, for a charity event, for another speech, and somehow; media wrangles her in for more drama. what they don't know is that she's ultrawoman, and kenji's ultraman, and there's more than to the eye here. they're well intertwined and every time they tug away, the knot gets tighter. everything leads them to each other, and now japan is in their hands, and they have to unravel every secret they refused to acknowledge prior to this. and they have to accept every role bestowed upon them, whether they like it or not. somehow, all of this leads to is them learning that there was always more to their friendship, and that they were truly two puzzle pieces, fit right next to each other.

genre ┊ childhood-friends-to-strangers-to-lovers, slight angst, tooth rotting & chaotic fluff, co-parenting (?)

pairing ┊ken sato x fem-self insert/oc, ken sato x public figure!self insert, ken sato x childhood-friend!self insert

warnings ┊ mild cursing, mentions of drinking, trauma, heavy topics (?), events in ultraman: rising take place alongside this story.

word count ┊1.3k

author's note ┊angst, huh, what's that? i didn't know that existed! have fun, it's not too long, i think, but we're reaching the end of reverie soon, kinda emotional because i've barely had the chance or energy to write recently, this made me feel great, right before i was short of time. happy reading?

prev | next

Over the next few days, neither of them mention what happened that night Ken returned drunk. They don’t have to, and Hazel hopes they won’t. She honestly thinks Kenji might have forgotten, but he doesn't say anything about it. The days roll around that they can finally be free from their bandages and casts, and all of the wrapping that would aid in their healing. Ken’s beyond elated, and he offers to drive. Hazel’s a bit more exhausted, more so mentally than physically, but it’s enough for her to agree without much fight.

Ken’s humming as he drives them to the hospital, and that’s about the only sound that can puncture the silence that surrounds them. The right side of Hazel’s face is pressed against her window, and she’s about to doze off, but then Ken’s phone goes off. She glances at him, holds it up for him. It’s one of his teammates.

“You can pick it up,” he says.

She picks it up, puts it on speaker.

“That night was amazing, Ken—” someone’s saying, really loud. Hazel thinks he might just be speaking right into the speaker.

“I know, dude.” Kenji laughs.

“Didn’t know you had a wife, though!” the guy on the other side is saying, and laughing. Ken tenses, looks at the phone with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t have a wife?” his tone is questioning. His lips are parted in confusion as he stares at the road ahead.

Hazel’s eyes are plastered on him, and she mouths the word ‘what?’

“You left early because you said you had a wife to get back to!”

Hazel feels a lot warmer, although she has no fucking idea who this guy could be referring to.

“I don’t have a wife, oh my god,” Ken says, laughing.

His teammate and him argue for a bit, albeit jokingly. And Ken ends up winning the argument about whether he has a wife or not. Hazel’s silent the whole time, and she feels really warm, and like there’s a pit in her stomach. She doesn’t even realise when they’ve arrived until the car stops and she has to act like she’s not been in her head the whole drive. She stumbles out, opens Kenji’s door for him. He steps out, offering his hand to her. She accepts it, tentatively.

When they walk in, Ken’s doctor is already greeting him. But what she says leaves Hazel’s mind in complete shambles.

“You’ve brought your girlfriend along?” Her tone is the sweetest, more inquiring thing ever. But when Hazel looks up at Ken, he’s redder than a cherry.

She looks away.

“She’s not my girlfriend—Just a frie…” he trails off. The doctor laughs, not pressing and she escorts him away. Hazel’s left waiting outside.

Her heart is sinking, though.

They never confirmed what they may have been, but friends don’t kiss each other, and almost leave hickies, and raise an infant kaiju together, they don’t do any of the shit that Ken and Hazel do. Friends wouldn’t have seen each other naked, or spilled their guts like that.

She’s looking at the floor when Ken returns and his left hand gingerly brushes her shoulder. She flinches. And she hates that she’s relieved. She’s also mad, but she just can’t tell if she’s allowed to, to begin with.

“Hey? It’s your turn, your doctor’s waiting.”

His fingers are about to brush her chin, but she stands up abruptly, making him stumble a few steps back.

She smiles at him, as much as she can while she’s feeling conflicted. He asks her if he should come along, she shakes her head and asks her doctor to lead the way. They leave Ken looking at Hazel, confused. Hazel thinks he shouldn’t be.

She can’t deny it, but she misses his presence in the room when she goes in for check ups, but she’s willing to act like she doesn’t. When she returns, she wordlessly gestures towards the exit. Ken opens his mouth, but no words come out.

“Come on,” she whispers. She may be mad, but she won’t be unreasonable. She repeats that in her head. She leads him back to the car, and she gets into the passenger seat. He drops beside her, and the car vibrates underneath them as the engine starts.

“Hazel?” he asks, finally starting to drive off. Hazel turns to look at him, he gulps. Now she feels terrible. “What’s wrong?”

She’s trying to not snap into pieces now. “What’s wrong? Kenji… What are we?” she whispers, her voice starts shaking and she curses herself mentally for it.

“I—” and he hesitates. That makes her want to tear her heart out.

“Kenji, friends don’t fucking kiss each other.” She balls her fists in her lap.

He can’t even meet her eyes anymore. And that hurts her too.

Then she does the one thing she thought she wouldn’t. She brings up the night he returns drunk. “Friends don’t go naked in front of each other, they don’t try to leave hickies. They don’t—” Her words die in her throat when Kenji’s head snaps up, and their eyes meet.

And she thinks it’s so unfair that he can have this effect on her when she wants to break him, but she wants to kiss him too. But he doesn’t deserve that if he can’t accept that they were never just friends.

“When—” he starts, but it seems that realisation dawns on him before he completes his sentence.

“Ken, don’t play with my heart.” Hazel looks away. She doesn’t need him seeing the way her eyes well up with unwanted tears. She stares out at the streets.

“Of course not!” he sounds terrified, but she only spares him one glance, and her lips tremble, her frown deepens.

“If you weren’t playing with me, it wouldn’t be so hard to just call me your girlfriend, no?” The indignation is clear in her tone when she says these words, voice shaking intensely, knuckles white with the pressure she was exerting.

“Hazel, I swear,” Ken whispers, he sounds like he’s begging, Like he might be in tears.

“Ken, what the fuck are we? You’ve had my heart for so long, but you’re scared to call me your partner?” She finally looks at him, and she has to bite her lip to fight back any strangled sobs that threaten to spill over, she can’t even hold his gaze for long, she’s looking away, wiping furiously at her face. She’s trying to not heave, because she knows that’ll hurt her abdomen.

“I’m not.” He isn’t looking at her anymore, and Hazel thinks he might just leave it here, hanging, but then she notices that he’s driving back to their his place.

“Take me back to my place.” Hazel looks at him. His whole face falls. She has to fight the urge to cup his face in her hands. He doesn’t deserve that comfort.

“Hazel, please…” his voice is much quieter.

She shakes her head. And resigned, Ken starts driving away. She retraces every street as he drives her back. And when he stops in front of her house, she hesitates for a minute. She thinks he might be hopeful of her changing her mind, but then she opens the door, and steps out. If Ken says anything, it falls to deaf ears as she starts walking away.

She only faintly registers the sounds of an engine as she pushes her door open, and she just thinks it’s so unfair that this doesn’t feel like home anymore. Or the fact that half of her closet is left at his. She groans, lets the door slam shut as she falls onto her couch. She shoves her face into her hands, tries to fight back sobs that threaten to wreck her body. She fails. Tears are staining her sleeves as she shakes with the force of every sob.

She shouldn’t have bared her heart at all, because now it would be no one else’s. And what about Emi? What was she going to do? Her own house doesn’t feel like hers. It’s not home.

#✎ hazel's works #ken sato x oc #ken sato x self insert #ken sato fluff #ken sato angst #kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman: rising #ultraman #angst #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #childhood friends to strangers to lovers #chaotic fluff #part fifteen

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birues · 8 months

Note

may I have some “theron: i don't trust like that” for the wip roundup pls 🫶

Oh this one is delightful! Thank you beloved 💜💜💜 Theron gets his first debriefing from Jonas Balkar about this new strange owner of Nar Shaddaa's Sith cult. takes place right after act 1. My man had no idea what fate had in store for him 😭

Theron takes a sip from his caf. “An extraction operation then.”

Jonas shoots a lopsided smile. “Well, that was the plan, but it might’ve gotten a lot harder. Or easier. We don’t know yet. When you were away, the cult changed hands. And the first thing the new owner did was…renovation.” Jonas points at him with the pen Theron just threw at him. “Yeah, close your jaw. I didn’t think one of their own would get him sooner than we would either.”

Theron’s face hardens. This is either incredibly good news or a total mess. No wonder even Jonas is tense as if he’s riding a hammerhead into the minefield.

“Who is the new owner?”

His fellow agent abruptly stands up. “Now this is the interesting part.”

He projects a figure to the holo, clearly taken from a public speech. The figure’s arm is reaching, like a promise. Their style is made up of a mixture of robes and expensive-looking armor. Black, dark purple. The skull mask follows suit, is it taken from a real creature? Their upper arms are bare and donned with geometric tattoos, the green hue of their skin clearly shows in the holo. A Mirialan.

“This is our gal,” Jonas announces with all the gaudiness of a reality show presenter. “The current owner of the Cult. They call her the Great Healer. She’s even changed the Cult’s name accordingly.”

Theron puts out a dry snort. “She looks more like someone who would unleash great diseases, not otherwise.”

Jonas shrugs. “It certainly sells better than ‘Screaming Blade’. Cozier. Eh, people ought to call you that when you clean up the most obnoxious plague that scorched the Nar Shaddaa refugee sector for years. No matter how much you look like you’re the embodiment of terror.”

He raises a brow, that’s no small deed.. but… “I doubt she did it because of the goodness of her heart. What do we know about her? Must be a big shot if she managed to dethrone a rooted parasite like Paladius. ”

“Well,” Jonas drawls, “Not exactly. She was just an apprentice.”

“An apprentice took down Paladius?!”

“Wait until you hear other things she is involved. Remember Nomar Organa? House Organa’s precious Jedi Master? They have confirmed it was her who killed him. Colonel Malcom declared her as a high-priority target the next day.”

Theron blinks. “You’re saying this apprentice has not only killed an established Sith Lord, but also an experienced Jedi Master?”

Jonas doesn’t seem fazed at all. Theron bets on his next R&R time, the asshole even enjoys witnessing him being completely dumbstruck. “If it makes you feel any better, she isn’t an apprentice anymore, those were old news. Intel says she retired her master permanently and took her place.” He wiggles his fingers through holo. “With Kallig’s body count, Darth Zash should’ve seen it coming from parsecs away.”

“Kallig?” that name sounds familiar. “That’s her name?”

“She only took the name recently. I asked the Jedi. There was actually a Lord Kallig during Tulak Hord’s time. Our Kallig Jr. claims to be his descendant. There’s no way to know for sure, of course, other than the glaring fact that she is insanely powerful… It doesn’t matter, even if she isn’t related to Kallig, she has claimed his name.”

#swtor #kallig/theron #mcshady tag #jonas had a good fucking laugh when he heard they were dating #but yeah. sith. he doesn't trust like that <33

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wanderingchocolateeclair · 2 years

Note

"I have plenty of hcs for these two in UA relating to my personal backstory hcs for them too, so if anyone ever wants to know those I’m happy to write them out :)"

Yes please !

>:D

CW: mentions of bullying, accidentally killing someone-

So~

Before I forget, this is a simple headcanon I wanted to include but

When Shinya was first year, Tsunagu was part of that year’s “big three” and was the top student.

Shinya made a promise to Tsunagu that he’d become the top student when he was a third year, and well- he definitely kept his promise!

Anyway- onto the main ones:

For context, I have lil backstory headcanons for the two of them - both of which are very angsty bc <3

But thats for another time, I'll just include the main thing for these hcs-

Both Tsunagu and Shinya have accidentally killed a person/people, with their quirks, Tsunagu was around 12, Shinya was 10- (separately)

Being quirk accidents, it was brushed off as just them 'needing quirk counselling' so that happened-

Tsunagu got bullied A LOT growing up, for multiple reasons, but when he got to UA it became more of a different type.

People avoided him a lot in his first years, because "hey, isn't that the kid who killed a guy before?" "yeah- don't get too close- he might get angry"

It mellowed out after he became a third year, and he had gained a reputation for being very strong and stern and, well, our typical "jeanist-y" and though he still got bullied/avoided quite a bit, he did have a group of classmates and friends who were there for him.

His whole demeanour was made up from him simply putting walls around himself to ignore everything that others said about him, while also becoming insanely observant.

He made the arts and crafts club, because it was "important to be able to find hobbies, and also hone skills that could still be important to heroics, such as precision and focus."

But deep down, he had also hoped to maybe find someone who was like him. Who either had a quirk that everyone believed to be "unfit for heroics" or an outcast who needed to know that they weren't alone....

And well, of course, along came Shinya.

A first year, who miraculously seemed to fit that exact description.

Shinya was also bullied a lot, however it came more verbally.

Not many knew about his true backstory, or where he was from, but they did know two things. "he has no family" and "thats the kid who killed a bunch of guys, isn't it?"

And you can assume that most people grouped these two statements together, and that led to some even more awful rumours. But he was mostly just ignored and majorly avoided out of fear.

Going into UA, he masked everything he had with a smile and an energetic personality, trying to earn people's trust so maybe- just maybe- he could be seen as more than just the rumours that were told about him.

He stumbles into this empty clubroom, looking around and calling for the chairman to the handicraft club.

"If you're here to make fun of me or the club, please go away- I'm not in the mood today" a voice answered him from the closet.

When he got nearer the closet, he found a very lanky blond boy kinda....stuck....under a pile of stationary that seemed to have fallen over. He looked miserable as hell but insisted that he didn't need help.

Shinya simply responded with a "oh...no- I was actually looking to....join?" and was met with Tsunagu laughing like "haha very funny- tease the tired third year about their empty club."

And Shinya was like "what? no- I'm being serious..." and that was met with silence before Tsunagu jumping up with an insane amount of energy suddenly entering his speech as he very happily accepted this new first year into the club.

It was tense at first, as they both had never really spoken to other people before.....properly.....but after introductions and explaining why the club was always empty, they realised that they were a lot more similar than they thought.

Neither of them pried into the other’s personal life, however over the year of knowing each other they did end up sharing and learning bits and pieces. (this is also bc they re connect later on in life and share the bits that they never did in their UA years, finally knowing the full truth about each other and their stories)

Shenanigans ensue, just like in my other hc list, and they become really close good friends.

Now. Tsunagu struggled with his emotions. He was very easily upset and angered, and this made him believe a lot of things about himself - one of them being that he’d never be able to be a hero because he cant control his emotions.

Shinya was who helped him with this.

He reassured him that it was normal and okay to feel these emotions, and he told him that he believed in him. He told him that no matter what everyone else says, he knows he’ll be able to face his emotions and that they do not make him a bad person or a “villain”

(I’m sure you can imagine how this hc ties into bakugou’s internship with Jeanist)

In turn, Jeanist proved that he trusted Shinya. And that he didn’t believe he was a bad person, or any of the things the others had said.

Despite wearing his “happy mask” Shinya had never felt proper happiness, or felt what it was like to truly be his age and have fun.

And Tsunagu was who helped him with this.

He taught him that it was okay to show when he wasn’t truly happy, allowing Shinya to reveal his truer self around him.

And he taught him how to let himself have fun. Even for a few minutes. And he was the first person to ever hear him laugh, properly.

And they both helped each other learn to control their quirks and understand them properly.

There were some instances where one had to save the other from various stuff- often from bullying at first- but as the year passed, people learnt better than to mess with either of them, because they had each other.

Also they almost died during a school trip that involved the third years taking supervision over the first years.....during a villain attack that ended really badly-

Wound up in hospital a couple of times due to internship stuff/villain encounters, and spent the time making crafts together.

But also, they made each other lil charms of them in their original hero outfits that they have kept to this day.

After Tsunagu graduated, Shinya took care of the handicrafts club and managed to get quite a few members, however he missed the days of it being just the two of them.

I actually headcanon that they lost touch about a year or so after Tsunagu graduated, because Tsunagu moved abroad to study fashion stuff and further heroic experience, and Shinya went to study medical stuff- and though they really wanted to try and contact each other again, they both felt too scared and nervous to try.

Until they meet again one day and reconnect almost immediately- realising that they didn’t have anything to fear.

(Also this may or may not be bc my initial hc for these two was that they met in their adulthood -specifically in my fic “when it rains”- but canon came along so I’m fitting that into this)

(With the potential of added angst bc <3)

But yeah!!!! those are those!!! i think I’ll leave it at that for now so i hope you enjoy them !! :D

Again, if theres any other types of headcanons you’d like me to ramble about, or if you’d like me to elaborate on any of these further or give particular scenarios you’d like to know about, please feel free to send in asks my way!! :)

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ryttu3k · 2 years

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Thoughts on His Dark Materials 3.07 and 3.08 - The Clouded Mountain and The Botanic Garden. Spoilers for the entire series, both TV and book!

Will be going through the tags tomorrow. Blacklist 'hdm spoilers' if you want to avoid!

Lyra’s 'fall': Honestly the whole story scene was... almost perfect, I kind of wish Mary had mentioned her first kiss and the marzipan connection when she was younger. But man, just the way she's telling the story, the way Lyra seems so completely entranced, how she and Will are both very clearly cognizant about how this will be relevant to their own lives... It's such an important scene, and aside from wishing Mary had mentioned the connection to that first kiss, that first memory, it was done beautifully.

Mrs Coulter and Asriel: Who gave Ruth Wilson the right to make me literally cry over Marisa Coulter, thank you, that is rude. God. The combination of lying for her life but also grabbing onto the bit of truth in there - she probably was being honest when she said she hated how loving Lyra felt. She had been transformed by her love, but it was awful to her. She had been completely in control, and now there was someone else she would live for? Disgusting, could not recommend. ...and she still made that decision in the end. 'Cesspit of moral filth' she may have been (and she was! She was objectively an awful person!), but that seed of love still was stronger.

Asriel's speech was genuinely emotive. Asriel having to confront himself was fab. I like the detail how Mrs Coulter already knew who she was, so she faced Metatron directly, but Asriel had to go through that mental battle first to get to the point where he could act.

And goddamn, no words for the actual Abyss scene. No words. It was beautiful and I literally cried, especially when Mrs Coulter's expression just became almost peaceful and resigned instead of that snarl, and oh god the scene of Lyra and the monkey reaching out to each other. Like, yes, the relationship was... tense, but I think Lyra knew, at that time, that her mother loved her. In the end, she loved her.

The final battle: It's not... really over, is it? They've defeated the Kingdom of Heaven, yes. They've defeated Death, with a door that will always be open now, that will always be an escape. But the Magisterium - and other forces in other worlds, like the Temple in Ogunwe's world - still exist, and frankly, they weren't exactly acting on evidence of Metatron in the first place. They've stopped death, but the Republic of Heaven is a hell of a long way away. The Magisterium is still going to act under the Authority's name, and who cares if he's dead?

(As a side note, it does amuse me how just... blase that is. "Huh, here's a weird box. Huh, there's an old man inside. Oh, he dissolved. That was odd. Let's move on." Similar level of blase in the book, too, so that was entirely accurate. They just killed God nbd. I do have further thoughts on how that scene was handled, see below in the 'as a standalone series' section, but I'll go into that there.)

The daemons: Okay back to the monkey. God he really was Mrs Coulter's soul, wasn't he? In the beginning, he showed a lot of the cruelty and animalistic anger and emotion that she never let herself show, got to be nice, good, respectable. Never mind her screaming anger at the injustice of her life, she'll never let herself even acknowledge it. She'll bury it down. She'll hurt it. ...and then she starts to change. And then she starts to love, and feel vulnerability. And then her daemon goes from demonstrating her suppressed rage, to demonstrating her suppressed love, because both are just as dangerous when you need to be in absolute control of yourself and your emotions. Honestly, that's why I loved that scene of the two of them from 3.06 so much - it was Mrs Coulter beginning to come to terms with herself, with everything she's pushed on to her daemon over the decades, to recognise they're a part of her too. And when she goes to meet Metatron, she knows that even though she's locked everything tightly down again, that part of her still exists. It's through her daemon that she's able to give Lyra one final message - that she's loved.

For the others: Kirjava my beloved I audibly gasped when I saw her sweet little face! Just a little darling, and I'm glad Will has her now. Also may have squealed a bit when Mary's showed up. "There you are!" Stelmaria, and joining in on the battle without hesitation, because even if Asriel ignored his own daughter, Stelmaria has always loved her and Pan. And Lyra and Pan - the reconciliation, where Pan was being stubborn as hell, of course he was, he's Lyra's soul, but there was just that longing from both of them... Honestly, I am nervous, since I've heard that things don't really get any better in Book of Dust, but for now it's just that sweet little reunion, where it was just that easy, honest, "I love you" because they both wanted to be back together so badly.

Mary: God I love her. I want her to be my cool aunt. She was curious and compassionate and warm, she looked after those two lost kids, she talked to them as adults. I did feel genuinely sad for her, having to leave a world she so obviously loved, but I suspect she'll do fine afterwards. I think Simone Kirby was my favourite cast member after Ruth Wilson?

(Also, she's queer! Hell yeah.)

Lyra and Will's love: Super unpopular opinion that may be coloured by being aro af here, but... I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing that they separated, and I don't think they were necessarily each other's One And Only True Love For Ever And Ever. The prophecy wasn't about a true love's kiss restoring Dust. It was about making that decision to experience. Yes, first love can be powerful, but it's not the be-all and end-all, and if one or both ended up falling out of love, finding someone else, living the rest of their life with them, being able to love them wholly and entirely, with Lyra/Will just being a fond early memory... that's okay. You're not bound forever to the person you had your first kiss with when you were fourteen.

I don't know. It just strikes me as odd and kind of uncomfortable that so many people say that they're True Love Forever. They're kids, experiencing their first romantic relationships, with all the emotional highs, Big Feelings, and, er, screaming awkwardness ("Er... you know, Dust and, uh... trees." Oh Will). They could very well move on. It happens, and it doesn't lessen the fact that they restored Dust through their choices. It was right for them then.

I will now bravely submit to being tarred and feathered, haha.

That said, the 'every atom' speech, that last kiss through the window, the montage of them meeting in the park... I was sobbing.

(Also, honestly, from how lonely Lyra looked returning to Oxford. Will is back with his mother, and he has Mary in the same city. He has support structures. Lyra has lost both parents, complicated feelings and all, she's lost Roger, her best friend, and she's lost Lee, who loved her like a daughter. She still has Iorek and Serafina, but Iorek is likely preoccupied in Svalbard, and Serafina probably has Witch Things to do. Lyra only has Pan.)

The HDM series as an adaptation: So, now some thoughts on how the series did! Looking at it from two different perspectives - how it went as an adaptation of the books, and how it went as a series standing on its own.

As an adaptation, it absolutely made changes, yeah. Did it still feel like His Dark Materials, though? That's the most important part, and in my opinion, yeah, it did. It told a story about how free will and independence and self-actualisation will always defeat the suppression of information and controlling others through fear. It told a story about how it's not a bad thing to grow up and change, that working out who you are is one of the most important tasks you can undertake. It told a story about how what you do in this life is what's important, not promises of a Distant Hereafter. So yeah, in that case, absolutely still a successful adaptation.

Also, let's face it, a lot of the changes they made were just due to the reality of the medium. Yeah, Lyra and Will were older now (Lyra talking about how they ignored her for thirteen years places her at roughly 14-ish by the end, Will is maybe a year older, so they're not twelve-year-olds). That's... pretty unavoidable when you have actors who do inconvenient things like ageing, haha. It still fit the story about that transitional period from childhood to adulthood, it just wasn't literally puberty. And things like showing much more of Mrs Coulter's personal storyline, I think, was an incredible decision, because they had an actor in Ruth Wilson who could absolutelybring it, and it made her one of the most compelling characters to watch I've ever seen. Changes like Lee passing through the door instead of joining the final battle - that worked. Changes like fleshing out Ogunwe's character - that worked, because it showed the influence of the Kingdom of Heaven even in other worlds. Yeah, it's not literally book-exact, but they weren't random changes, they were changes made to fit the medium.

The Lord of the Rings films do this too. They're not exactly word for word, but they still fit the spirit of the story, and the medium, and they're still incredibly successful adaptations that fans of the books can find a lot to love in.

Also, when they do hit things word for word? Goddamn, chills. I'm incredibly glad they kept the 'every atom' speech, because it really does feel like the most sincere declaration a young teenager can make to her first love, and it's sweet and honest and heartbreaking. (I also really liked that they kept the 'cesspit of moral filth' description!)

Definitely wish they had kept the line about creating the Republic of Heaven in their own worlds, though. That's, um, kind of an important theme.

The HDM series as a standalone series: So, as a series? Obviously I can't comment from the perspective of a non-book reader, because, well, I have. (Fun fact! I first read HDM when we first moved here seven years ago. We didn't have internet for two days, so I went, "Well, why don't I have a look at that trilogy I bought for ten bucks at a book fair a few years back?" The internet came back on when I was halfway through TAS. I did not stop reading.)

Just from going by the subreddits, though? Yeah, there are... issues there. Obviously it's brought in a hell of a lot of new fans, a lot who now plan on reading all the books now they've seen the series. But there are enough questions being asked to make me think that maybe the series didn't explain stuff as well as they could have to someone who hadn't read the books. There were so many posts blasting Lyra, mostly, about her decision to go into the Land of the Dead to find Roger, because they saw it as selfish and irrelevant in the scheme of things. (And it was selfish! Lyra acting on her instincts without knowledge of the prophecy is what enabled her to fulfill it in the first place, and the fact that it was a selfish decision just indicates that she's a flawed character! Characters are allowed to be flawed!)

For this pair of episodes, the questions I see over and over were - why do they have to separate, when Will's dad clearly could stay in another world for years (because the series didn't sufficiently express that John was actively dying and wouldn't have survived much longer anyway, I feel he should have explained to Will that he had been dying already when he was shot because he was in a different world), and who was that old dude in the box, anyway.

If you're doing an adaptation of an existing series, you really do need to cater for two audiences - the source material fans, and the new fans, and the sheer number of questions people had about elements that weren't fully explained in the series indicates that it may not have completely succeeded in telling a narrative to the new fans.

Still, overall - beautiful job. Not perfect, I'd probably put the series as a whole at 8.5-9/10, but damn, they did the near-impossible, and made a beautiful, compelling TV series out of His Dark Materials. Well done to them all!

#his dark materials #hdm spoilers

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womanofwords · 1 year

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The Cool Girl’s Revenge

Sequel to Attack of the Nerds.

Priscilla gritted her teeth as she comforted her sweet, sobbing boyfriend as he recounted the tale of how Milton stole his muffin. “That nerd is gonna pay!” Priscilla replied. “How long has has been doing this to you?”

“Forever,” Devin replied, his voice hoarse and his eyes reddened.

Priscilla gritted her teeth as she braided her hair into a fishtail braid. “I hate to leave you, my love, but I have to go and make your life a little easier. Oh, and I made you a red velvet muffin.” She placed it gingerly in front of him. “I didn’t have time for the frosting.”

Devin choked out a thank you as he bit into the muffin.

She found Milton with some of his nerdy friends in the library recounting a story. “-And then I said, how are you gonna play with it now?” The library burst into laughter, people congratulating him as he basked in their approval. Priscilla tapped his shoulder, the atmosphere becoming tense. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Priscilla. Are you Milton, by any chance?” she asked.

A smirk grew on Milton’s pimply face. “Why, you wanna date me or something?” His cronies sniggered, the sniggers ending once she picked Milton up by the scruff of his collar. “What do you want? I don’t even know you!”

“I bet you know Devin, though,” Priscilla snarled. “Curly blond hair, large muscled frame, doesn’t want trouble?”

“Devin? Yeah, I remember him,” Milton replied. Priscilla threw him into the air, and he screamed. His cronies gasped.

“Well, he didn’t - have a - very nice day - because a certain nerd - named Milton - stole his - cookie sandwich,” Priscilla replied. Every pause in her speech meant another terrifying toss into the air for the scrawny nerd. She held him close to her for this next part, their noses an inch away from each other. “Now, if you hurt him, if you make fun of him, steal his things, if you ever go near him again, I will find you, and I’ll do a lot more than pick you up off the floor. Understand?”

Milton nodded. “Understand.”

“Good.” She placed him back into his chair, where he half-sat, half-perched on it, like a traumatized parrot. “You want what he had?” They shook their heads, mumbling negatives. “Good to know.”

#creative writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writerscommunity #writing #disney stereotypes #reverse stereotypes

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evolvingbeautyandmess · 1 month

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USUAL DISCLAIMER: so these blog posts are dictated by a speech to text on my phone. They have minimal at best if any editing and that's partially due to spoons but also just because that's just the vibe of the blog. Also I don't know why Google sensors curse words and there's no way to turn that off.

So I haven't posted in this blog for a while and one of the reasons is that for the last 4 days I have been in a considerable amount of pain. It's the level of pain where you kind of want to punch something or someone and you're not going to do it but you want to. It's the kind of pain where no matter how you sit or lay down there are times where there's no comfortable position.

And I have my theories as to why this pain is happening but that's not what this post is about.

One thing I have been doing because it's one of the few things that I can do is I've been making playlists. And the first one I made but first what I made I basically made up this story in my mind and created a soundtrack to a company this story. But the second one I made this morning after not a great night's sleep.

And that was just wrong. Getting a good night's sleep was a key part of my metaphorical raft and you take that away and it becomes that much harder to stay afloat.

And so at first my brain was like well let's just add a lot of sad songs because that way we can honor how we're feeling.

But what I realized was that I was at a crossroads. Because there is a difference between honoring your feelings and holding space for your feelings and getting stuck in your feelings. And I realized that I could either make it really sad playlist and feel really really sad or I could try making a playlist of dance tunes. I only have about three other playlists that are all dance tunes I have been meaning to make more so I gave it to go.

And it starts off with a sad song because I'm not going to ignore how I'm feeling but I didn't want to just sit and how I was feeling to sit in the sad feelings like just sitting in a puddle and letting it soak through your pants and not doing anything about it.

And by picking dance songs that resonated with me in that moment I created this really enjoyable playlist and it was also good because I found that because at times the pain was kind of at a medium level admitted medium level no a mid medium level there is times where I would sort of tense up my muscles which would make the pain worse. Also I had to rest a lot because moving and existing was just really really painful. So the dance playlist was something that I could move around to to avoid physical atrophy but also just to stay a bit more fluid and loose.

And it's not like this playlist got rid of all my sad feelings. Oh no I'm quite pissed off and sad that I mean this much pain because it really really f****** hurts and it's hard to function. But I'm glad I made a playlist that I could move to because that will help my recovery.

So in lieu of the usual song of the post, here is that playlist

#self care #self reflecting #feelings #healing #disability #pain #rib pain #crossroads #choose one #choices #honoring #Spotify

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unforeseen-idiot · 11 months

Text

Shovelwarewolf Season 3

Oh boy the season where things got really interesting, an actual antagonist with a face and everything?, a new location for our favorite angry werewolf?, ALIENS! Excellent season in my book and lets get into why.

E.T the Extra-Terrestrial: Great opener, I love the theme of this season being infamously bad games fits well with Biffalo's whole schtick. I love the back and forth they have with each other. I love the scene where Ivan resolves to get out of the pit, fails once and tries again, and then fails a second time and then rages, just felt really real.

Super Man 64: Another great episode, the Martha bit was maybe a little on the nose, but I still find it funny. I love SWW's commitment to this three-hole punch bit, it starts out as a regular SWW threat, but the fact that he keeps building on it slays me. I love SWW's dramatics in this episode. Plus we get more evidence on the Star Fox Adventures theory.

Night Trap: Ah yes, the game that would turn everyone into serial killing rapists according to the government. Solid episode, like the CDI Zelda games, the dialogue makes SWW's quips even better. I love that Biffalo finally acknowledges the whole glass shattering thing, and his random story about eating a run-over waffle. Gotta love SWW's total pettiness with the vase. He also gave a pretty solid "Reason you suck speech" to that weird general guy. Plus this is the first time we've actually seen Ivan playing a game as a human since Mortal Kombat Mythologies just thought it was cool. And of course the ending twist with Bubsy, so good.

Bubsy 3D: Oh my what a terrible game, it actually hurts thinking about playing it. This is a pretty ok episode, its best parts are in the beginning when we get Biffalo's true motives (seriously he wants to take pictures with kids someone stop him) and the ending when he's so pissed about losing his custom Bubsy Playstation. Plus his utter glee at Bubsy is pretty funny. We also get a solid cliffhanger at the end.

Link the Faces of Evil: Oh what an excellent sequel to last season, the dialogue is only funnier with the slam poetry, reused cutscenes, and SQUADALA WE ARE OFF! I love this episode so much it has great one liners and an acknowledgment of Susan (I remember watching the episode and thinking the exact thing when he said it). I also Love the Shawshank tribute and the chase through the dessert that ends with him being abducted, it probably made no sense to people at the time, but it's so freaking funny.

The Grinch: We've now arrived at the season finale, it's pretty good I like the animations for Mr. Wolf. The setup is decent, not revealing too much of the aliens yet while still giving us a plausible way for him to play games (of course his coma dreams involve shovelware). I know it was meant to serve the Grinch parody, but SWW without a lab coat or otherwise just looks wrong. So Cindy Lou Rareware is a neat character, but she reminds me so much of this girl I knew in middle school it's a little jarring. The ending always makes me feel a little hopeless, like dang the guy is just stuck.

Music:

Season 3 Opening: Oh what a great intro. The strings in the beginning and the banjo, folksy style really sell the creepy vibes of Buffalo Bub and the season's setup.

Season 3 Transformation: It's pretty good, I like the guitar in it. It doesn't really do a whole lot but it serves the purpose very well.

Demented Furry: Excellent villain theme for Biffalo. It gives off a great mistrusting and creepy feel that goes great with our Bubsy obsessed hillbilly.

Demented Furry (Choir Version): Same song, but with a slower piano and an awesome sounding choir behind it. Very foreboding.

Live or Die: Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh. This song man. THIS SONG! It goes so freaking hard. The metal guitar riffs, the brass, the synth it all comes together so well. I never paid much attention to it until now and I fell in love. It completely creates a great climatic tension to a very tense scene.

Mr. Wolf: It's a Grinch parody. Does a great job especially when coupled with the animation. The singer is so petty with lines like, "Someone should through you back in a 39 and a half foot hole" like dude that probably traumatized him, lay off.

Couch Gag: This is a pretty good one, just Biffalo Bub being Biffalo Bub and playing with action figures (I feel like AJ improvised these, not in a bad way just that this feels like stuff he'd come up with on the fly). The last one was honestly so real, like you'd think that you'd make your "if you're watching this I'm dead video" a little funny to lighten the mood, but I mean, it would probably just bum me out too.

So ye overall, I love the season, great set, great tension, great villain, and horrible games. It also sets up a very good season coming up.

#shovelwarewolf #howlaween #Idk maybe coulda used more Susan #Biffalo had a great back and forth with Ivan #Like all of our main “people who talk to Ivan before after and while he plays games” have great back and forth in their own unique ways.#Biffalo and Ivan just gave off a great annoying guy and person who just hates and is mildly creeped out by him.#I don't have many stray thoughts #I kinda feel bad they had to destroy a retro tv #I mean it was probably broken beforehand but still sad.

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silent-stories · 2 years

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

Summary: Maybe you found a cure for Dean, will it work?

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: blood, death, a bit of angst

Word count: 2312

First part here

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"So this will make my brother go back to normal?" Sam asked looking at a bottle with purple liquid in it.

"Do you doubt my abilities Samuel?" Rowena asked looking at him with a smirk.

Looking at the small object Sam held in his hands, you got up from the old motel couch you had been in for nearly five days.

Five fucking days. And they were too many, it seemed like an eternity had passed since you last saw Dean, and when you thought about the way you saw him last time you preferred not to think about it.

You and Sam contacted Rowena right after you told him about what you saw in the woods, but she only managed to brew the "potion" some time later.

You were terrified that it might not work, that you would never see your Dean again, that you would be forced to do what he asked you to do in his moment of clarity. At the very thought of it, a shiver ran down your spine.

Who were you kidding? You never would have.

"But..." You heard Rowena's voice mutter, bringing you back to reality.

"But what?" Sam asked, looking at her raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that if you warned me as soon as your brother was missing it would be easier now." He said.

"Rowena, speak out." Sam said seriously.

"Guys, honestly speaking, I don't know how much is left of the man you know. It's been days and the last time you saw him he was already a monster. You don't know how he can be now. Will he recognize you? Will he try to kill you? You can't know. It could be a lot worse than the last time. And you have to get him to take that potion, are you going to convince him by asking him kindly? Good luck. " The redhead replied as she prepared to leave the motel.

"Dean is not a monster." You said quickly, feeling the need to specify it, walking towards Rowena.

No matter what he had become, what he had done, Dean wasn't a monster when he was a demon, he wasn't a monster when he had the mark of cain and you refused to think of him as a monster even now that he was a... werewolf.

It was weird to think of Dean as a werewolf now, you were hoping you could stop doing it soon.

Rowena looked you in the eye. "Honey, you have to accept the reality. He's not the Dean you know anymore and you don't know if he'll ever come back." She said.

"But he's not a monster." You repeated.

Rowena laughed and you felt the urge to punch her in the face, but you knew it wasn't a good idea to challenge her.

"Wait to meet him again." She answered.

"Okay, enough." Sam interrupted you. "Now let's go into the woods and get my brother back."

"He only shows up at night. You won't find him now." Rowena said.

"Relax a little, you seem tense." She said turning on the TV.

You were about to say some not-so-kind things to Rowena when the images shown on the TV caught your attention.

"Sam, turn up the volume." You murmured.

Although now the words spoken by the journalist were very clear you were able to understand only some parts of her speech, a thousand thoughts ran through your head and your heart started beating fast in your chest.

"Two boys, one of seventeen and one of eighteen, found dead in the woods while camping ... parts of their bodies are missing... animals ate their hearts ...we are waiting for the autopsies... probably wolves. "

You almost felt faint. Dean had killed two boys. He had torn them apart. He had eaten their hearts. Your Dean.

Rowena looked from the TV to you. "Were you saying?"

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For the second time in less than a week you found yourself wandering in the woods at two in the morning, hoping to find Dean, but this time Sam was with you.

Your hands were shaking and not from the cold as you plunged your boots into the mud that had formed from the rain that had started falling hours ago.

You pushed a strand of wet hair off your face as you heard the rumble of thunder in the distance, thinking it was a great idea to be in a fucking forest during a thunderstorm.

"Come on Dean, show up and let's sort this out." You whispered to yourself before you heard a rustle of leaves followed by a deep growl behind you.

You and Sam turned slowly.

"Hi Dean." You said watching the figure in the darkness advance towards you, his eyes shone like the ones you had seen a few days before but there was something different about who you were looking at now.

Maybe it was because he was slightly bigger than Dean, maybe it was the way he moved, maybe it was because you would recognize Dean anywhere, anytime and turned into any supernatural creature.

"Sam, he's not Dean." You whispered before the werewolf leapt forward, headed right at you.

You brought your hand to your gun but you knew you'd never have time to shoot before he hit you. You braced yourself to feel the weight of the werewolf throwing himself at you, but it never happened.

You heard a whimper immediately after a thud and looked up.

Dean was on the werewolf who was about to attack you and when his claws sank into the stranger's flesh, his scream of pain echoed throughout the woods. When Dean brought his fangs to the creature's throat, you felt his skin tear, blood spurting, and the werewolf stopped squirming under Dean's weight. He had killed him.

Sam lowered his gun and you thought he hadn't fired for fear of hitting his brother during the fight.

Dean moved from the lifeless body, walking slowly towards you as blood dripped from his mouth and soiled his already soaked clothes.

"Dean, we're here to help you. We have a cure." You said bringing your hands in front of you as if you were talking to a wounded animal.

The rain kept falling on you constantly and it seemed like it was not going to stop anytime soon.

He stared at you as a low growl left his mouth but from his eyes you could tell he was exhausted, the past five days couldn't have been easy for any of you.

And in that moment, what had just quickly happened hit you, and you understood.

Despite being cursed, despite being no longer human, Dean Winchester had saved your life.

When he took another step towards you, Sam appeared behind him and jammed a syringe with Rowena's potion inside it into his neck.

The idea was yours, if you couldn't make him drink it, you could inject it.

Dean stared at you for a few moments as his pupils began to return to their natural color and the yellow disappeared. You missed that green.

As he staggered slightly, his fangs and claws retreated, then Dean fell to the ground unconscious.

You watched him from above as rain fell on his dirty face, partially wiping off the blood and letting you glimpse the Dean you knew.

You let out a sigh, meeting Sam's gaze. You did it. You cured him.

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You had been back to the bunker for several days but it almost looked like Dean was still missing.

He spoke little and went out of his room the bare minimum, when you tried to stop him in one of the hallways to talk for a moment, he just said a "not now" and had not shown up for the next twelve hours.

You and Sam talked about it, he said maybe Dean just needed space and you had to leave him alone for a while, until he felt better.

The point was, you weren't used to leaving Dean "alone for a while", you were used to sneaking into his bed after he had a nightmare, to trying to make him smile after a hunt went south, to stitching him up every time he risked his life for you or Sam.

And these were the thoughts that occupied your mind that night, when you couldn't sleep and stared at the ceiling trying to figure out what you should do.

You left your room, walking through the bunker aimlessly and passing in front of Dean's room you found the door ajar.

You peeked inside, the room was dark and there was no sign of Dean. You also checked out the Dean Cave and almost every other room of the bunker, but he was nowhere to be found.

Eventually, you put on one of your jackets and, still wearing your pajamas, you left the bunker, closing the heavy door behind you.

It was dark outside, but not as dark as you would have expected, the full moon shone in the star-filled sky and made everything around you visible.

You saw Dean sitting on the ground with his back against a tree, holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand.

You sighed, approaching him and noticing the deep dark circles under his eyes and a cut above his eyebrow that hadn't quite healed yet.

You thought it was beautiful even so, but you dismissed the thought quickly, it wasn't why you came there.

Dean looked up at you.

"I can sit here?" You asked calmly, pointing to the space next to him.

He nodded and you took your place at the foot of the tree, you both stared at the moon for a few moments while a silence, filled only by the sound of the wind rustling the leaves, fell between you.

"I know you saw the news that day." Dean said after a few moments.

"What are you talking about?" You asked.

"The two dead boys. I know you know." He replied placing the bottle that he still held in his hands on the ground.

"It was you?" You asked.

"Do you think it was me?" He asked in turn.

"I don't know Dean, you've talked to me like once since you are ... yourself again." You said honestly.

"If I told you the truth, would anything change between us? Would you look at me differently? Would you look at me like a killer? Like a monster?" He asked, his hands were shaking slightly.

"Dean, you're my friend. It won't change how I see you. It wasn't you, it wasn't your fault and ..." You started saying before you were interrupted.

"It was me." He said. "The boys were two, the werewolves were two. I killed one of the kids." He whispered.

"Dean, I'm so sorry." You said placing your hand on his, without even thinking about it.

"That's the fucking point, Y/N. You shouldn't be sorry, you shouldn't try to make me feel better. You should hate me, you should be angry, furious." He replied moving his hand away.

"It wasn't your fault. You weren't yourself, you couldn't control it." You said firm, he didn't speak for a few moments, so you did.

"I've never thanked you." You said. "You saved my life."

"I just attacked, I followed my instincts." He responded quickly.

"No, that werewolf was headed towards me. You could have joined him or attacked Sam, but you stopped him. So thanks Dean, for saving me." You said.

"God, you're weird." Dean replied with a short, low laugh.

"I'm sorry?" You asked by raising an eyebrow.

"I just told you I killed a kid and you are thanking me." He answered.

"Because it wasn't your fault and because despite being cursed you still protected me. You always do." You said sincerely.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered after a few seconds.

"It's okay." You responded as you stretched out your arms to hold him in a hug. You felt the heat of his body against yours and thought you missed having him so close.

"Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for always being there." He whispered in your ear before lifting his head from your shoulder and meeting your gaze, his face a few inches from yours was illuminated by some rays of the moon and that allowed you to see the cute freckles that covered his nose.

"And tell me, if I kiss you now will it change the way you see me?" He asked, you could feel his breath on your skin.

"Only for the better." You answered before Dean closed the distance between your lips and kissed you for the first time. A real kiss, a kiss you had dreamed of for what seemed like years.

When Dean broke the kiss, he leaned his back against the tree trunk again, putting his arm around your shoulders and pushing you against his chest covered by a soft flannel and you felt more at home than you have ever felt in your entire life.

"You know, sometimes I still feel the need to get lost in the woods. And there's ... this weird connection with the moon that I don't think will go away anytime soon." Dean confessed after a few moments, moving a lock of your hair that had fallen on your face.

"For the part of get lost in the woods, I can't guarantee you anything but looking at the moon? We can come here and look at the moon anytime you want. I'm here for you." You answered shifting your gaze from Dean to the full moon shining in the dark sky.

"I know. You are always here for me." He replied leaving a kiss between your hair.

That night you and Dean just stared at the moon in silence for hours, enjoying each other's presence.

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Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf

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