#heel hardy

[kyuoki]

Just a collection of Jeff pics I've found on Pinterest but haven't seen on this site yet so felt like sharing them. He's such a babe. 🖤💜💚

[bubblegumlefty]

immortal heel antichrist jeff hardy?

Yes. The AntiChrist of Professional Wrestling. What a beautiful man he was. 🥰🥰🥰

[popping-your-culture]

[christhebrit2]

If Jeff Hardy is turning heel them im going to need him to turn up to the Dynamite Zone like this

[rxxkes]

Jeff’s tna heel run 😩😩

[girlmythlegend]

I thought they was finna strangle him bro 😭

[glamourbarbiie]

💘

[heretodefyfate]

okay, ngl, i feel weird about Fern in the post-game

[justoutofthecornerofyoureye]

[bubblegumlefty]

Honestly, with how many heelish mannerisms Jeff was showing tonight, along with last week after his match with Darby, I could literally make an eight page essay out of it if I really wanted to. Cause this evolving heel turn dates even further back when you really dig deep into it...

[munariplans]

welcome home, red | natasha romanoff

synopsis: natasha knew going on a mission where you were deliberately left out was a bad idea. going on a mission tracking down your ex-girlfriend was even worse; for natasha finally learns how jealous she can get.

natasha romanoff x reader | felicia hardy x reader

word count: 6.7k words

a/n: i see your requests for jealous!natasha with spidey!reader, and i got you :) hope you enjoy!

masterlist

BREAKING NEWS: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT? you know what they say, strike when the iron is hot! well, the black cat, infamous for her string of break-ins and robberies, may have struck the iron and burned herself. stealing a prized necklace from the wife of new york’s biggest crime boss, the black cat has certainly outdone herself this time, because silvio manfredi is out for her head, and everyone else’s too! read more on page 6 of this exclusive piece. 

perplexed expressions, furrowed eyebrows, sighs of frustration. everyone was on edge, at the threat of the manfredi family wanting to blow up entire parts of new york in order to find the black cat. villains were so dramatic, natasha thought. in no universe would she have ever wanted to threaten to kill entire cities for the love of her life, if one even existed. 

but then her phone chimed in with a notification from you, sending a photo of her favourite animal that you spotted on your mission, and she knew she would be retracting her words. even in life-threatening, death-defying missions that you were on, you never forgot to see her everywhere you went. stupid feelings, and stupid crushes, natasha shut her eyes, fighting the urge to giggle at a text from the person she was head over heels for. 

“natasha?”

she looked up from her phone, to realise she was the only one still in a half-positive mood. everyone else was biting their lips in worry. she regained her composure, and answered fury, “yeah?”

“you heard me? we’re not leaking this information to her. she won’t be a part of this mission at all.”

the look of confusion on her face gave her away. clint, maria, and fury answered her at the same time. 

“your little crush.”

“your wife that you claim isn’t.”

“the person you’re smiling at your phone like an idiot at.”

she glared at clint for the last remark. 

“...is there a reason why?” the mission had seemed almost perfectly suited to your skillset. 

fury merely shrugged. “no reason. it should just be you three that are privy to this information, that’s all. find the black cat, find the necklace, use it to rope manfredi in, and one less crime boss off the streets.”

even then, she had a nagging feeling that he had not been telling the truth.

– 

you ended your latest mission with a bang; quite literally. being flung about fifty metres into the air from a bomb explosion in the middle of the ocean, you would hardly call the mission a failure. no civilians were injured, you had killed the maker of the bomb along with it, and you were not dead, at least. 

washing up on shore unconscious and with water in your lungs? a concussion that would have sent any regular person into a permanent coma? being found by villagers and rushed to the medical wing of the avengers tower within a span of a few hours? almost pronounced dead on arrival? sure, you were all of those, but not dead. 

honestly, you would have given very little regard for your own life being lost in that mission if not for one person. the one person who stayed with you until the very last minute for her own mission. 

“i need to stop welcoming you back in a hospital bed, you know,” natasha grumbled into your neck, hugging you bone-crushingly when you awoke and smiled at her. 

she looked mad, but you knew she was just thankful you were home. you wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her to lie down on top of you. she was reluctant to crush your already broken ribs, but you were insistent. “i missed you too. and if i hadn’t been blown up, i had planned to bring back a souvenir from the airport for you.”

“you coming back is enough for me,” she mumbled. you knew she was never this vulnerable with anyone else. the words of because i love you were begging to roll off her tongue, but natasha knew she wasn’t strong enough for that. yet.

you let her ignore the first call for her to assemble at the loading zone, then the second, by the third, your hand had tapped her waist and she had groaned into you once more. “i don’t want to go.”

“what’s this mission about, anyway? nobody’s told me about it since i got here.”

natasha considered her choice of words for a moment, considering whether she should, when fury’s own warnings came back to her. she was never one to break promises. “just some…thing. about retrieving something and using it to lure a criminal.”

you chuckled. “seems like more of a police case than an avenger’s one. or one for a friendly neighbourhood spider.”

“well, the friendly neighbourhood spider looks like a mummy right now, so i don’t think so,” she had reluctantly got up, gathering her things, “i’ll see you in a few days?”

you let her hug you goodbye. “by then, i’ll be fit enough to welcome you home. properly.”

–

natasha once again found it hard to understand why fury hadn’t just waited for you to get slightly better, and go for this mission yourself, because the black cat’s tricks and games were definitely something you could have handled better than anyone he had assigned on the current team. she struggled to even catch up with the woman, and clint’s arrows often couldn’t squeeze deep enough into the slips and cracks she was slipping through. maria couldn’t even get a shot or trap clear to get to her. it would all have been solved so quickly with your webs zipping and getting to her; not to mention your ability to soar through the skies like she could. 

this was in addition to the fact that she was adamantly denying having the necklace with her. 

with another hit to the face, she was shouting to natasha, “i don’t have what you’re looking for!”

natasha swallowed the blood gathering in her mouth. the woman could throw a punch. “then why are you running?” black cat cornered her this time, slamming her against the wall as her breath mixed with natasha’s. immediately, it was too close, far too close. the grin that the enemy was sporting for her was glinting with mischief, and a trace of attraction. “...if someone as pretty as you were chasing me, with those fiery eyes and red hair of yours, who wouldn’t?” 

she was gone before natasha could catch her next breath, handcuffing the black widow to the pipe next to her. she had come so close. natasha knew the black cat was at her wit’s end as well; there was only so far she could run from the avengers.

–

however, one thing the woman had failed to consider, was how suspicious you found the entire operation being. rarely had natasha refused to tell you about the missions she was going on, and rarely did fury put so much emphasis in hiding it from you either. 

you weren’t in favour of stalking them, per se, but what were you supposed to do? the hospital wing was boring, and you were (almost) ready to go back to full, operational missions. the broken rib was only hurting a little bit, by that point. 

you watched maria through the tracker in her suit, flipping through yet another string of messages natasha had left unanswered. she never failed to reply to you, at least not beyond a day or two. 

sighing, you put your mask back on, and dived down the building to begin your chase. the team wasn’t far away. 

–

“we got her. hill should be able to lure her into the construction site.” clint’s comms crackled in natasha’s ear, and she set herself into position. finally, one of the traps maria had set worked. minimal casualties, a faraway location. the team should be able to interrogate her there.

natasha finally caught up. the black cat, panting and looking slightly less composed, had nowhere to run. she knew clint was on the roof, and maria was nearby. there was only the waters behind her to escape to. 

she aimed her gun, then, “let’s make this a lot easier for all of us. you hand us the necklace, you’re looking at a shorter jail term. months, maybe.”

the black cat only returned with another smart retort, before trying to take aim at maria above. she cursed and flinched when the agent successfully dodged. natasha, i am letting the arrow fly if she tries to get any closer to you, clint declared in her comms. natasha agreed. 

the woman took one step closer, natasha clicked her gun. 

“you have to let me go,” she explained, “they want me as bad as you do.”

“you’d rather come with us, or die with them?”

black cat sighed irritatedly. she darted her eyes once more, and the moment she spotted something in the sky, the ground beneath natasha suddenly shook. 

she could only see clint’s arrow fly at the corner of her vision; maria ducking down after something hit her, and then, her own gun flying out of her hands. natasha hit the ground right after, rolling away consciously to avoid whatever had caused the interruption. 

the second she gathered her bearings, however, it felt like time had stopped. her heart began beating rapidly, and she knew she should have just bypassed fury’s advice right away then. if she had, she wouldn’t be dealing with this right now. 

for if she had, natasha wouldn’t be staring down at you, standing in front of the black cat protectively, glaring at the three of them, and their weapons confiscated and broken into pieces right at your feet. 

–

you had never looked more angry. in fact, natasha had never even seen you this angry before. fists clenched, your stance was protective, the eye lenses narrowed and squinting down at her in rage. she had never been subject to even an ounce of irritation from you before. natasha was almost afraid of what would happen. 

thankfully, clint and maria had come down from where they were, clint with considerably more caution in his step than he had been much earlier.

he called your name, and, “i need you to calm down. we–”

“–i don’t need to hear an explanation.” you cut him off. behind you, the black cat grinned, and came a little closer. you seemed to pay her no mind.

“we couldn’t tell you,” maria tried helping him, but the glare you shot at her wasn’t much better.

“you absolutely could,” then, your eyes met natasha’s, and she wanted to crumble under your gaze, “you absolutely could.”

clint pointed out it wasn’t fair, that you knew how these things went, and then, in a lower tone, “she doesn’t know. let it go.”

“why were you chasing her?” you only replied, shielding the black cat when maria tried aiming her spare gun as the woman came to your side, “we had a deal.”

“our deal didn’t involve her stealing a necklace that could wreck cities. you’ve already seen the bombings down in harlem and hell’s kitchen, do you still want to protect her for this one?” 

your facade cracked in the slightest bit. only natasha noticed, but your eyes had gone slightly wider, a questioning look sent to the woman behind you. with your stance a little more tense, you were about to lower the hand protecting her, when natasha quickly realised that your confrontation had bought her just enough time.

the black cat slung her arms around your torso, and pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “my hero, my spider. always coming to save me.” 

all natasha saw was blind rage before the tear gas that black cat had thrown shrouded everything else in pain and smoke. she could hear clint screaming in frustration of just what it meant.

by the time the team had torn through the gas, you and her were gone.

–

clint had exactly three seconds to register the mad woman storming towards him, before he was slammed against the wall with natasha’s face up in his. he breathed heavily, the air still thick from the gas, but natasha’s fists were enough to ground him back to reality.

“alright, enough games. i was kind then, i’m not feeling so kind now. who. exactly. is. this. black. cat?” she gritted her teeth saying the last few words, the searing memory of seeing another press her lips against you still fresh in her mind.

if he wasn’t so afraid for his life, clint would almost have found the jealousy and possessiveness natasha claimed she never had over you quite funny. 

but her hands were almost choking him by then, the anger coursing through her veins and the hurt of you keeping such a huge secret from her fuelling only her rage.

had she been a fool for trusting that you would stay loyal in your pure, unbridled love for her all this while? perhaps not. perhaps you, like everyone else, got tired of waiting for her to be ready, too. perhaps you weren’t what she thought you were after all. 

when it was clear the archer couldn’t find the words to tell her, maria answered for him. she pulled natasha away, and forced her to think clearly again.

finally, when she was calm enough to hear the both of them out, maria announced that the black cat, felicia hardy, had been your ex-girlfriend.

–

while felicia was more than happy to be swinging through the city in your arms again, you were getting more and more anxious; what clint had said still ringing in your ears. surely, felicia wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t risk her life, and so many others’, like that. surely, she wasn’t so stupid.

you landed abruptly through her apartment window, shattering the glass to her kitchen and throwing the both of you on the ground. felicia groaned at the rough landing, and you had half a mind to apologise for getting distracted and missing the window, but you remembered that you should be even angrier at her.

“what the hell were you doing?” you interrogated, and when it appeared that felicia was keen on escaping, your webs were binding her to the dining room chair. “stealing a necklace, i don’t care. but stealing manfredi’s wife’s necklace!”

“aw, so you do still care about me, spider,” felicia cooed as you took off your mask and sat across from her. you had wanted to shake her in frustration, to give you answers instead of flirting with you once again.

you held your hands out in front of her, and she continued, “bringing me home, swinging through the city, just like we used to. bailing me out from your stupid friends, trying to save the world. you’ve always been a romantic.”

“they’re my colleagues. and my family now too. you…felicia…why?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around why she had decided to steal that necklace, of all things. it was not like she needed the cash, and if she had wanted to find a way to fuck around and feed her kleptomania, there were so many other necklaces that were beautiful, worthy of stealing. surely not manfredi’s.

she shot you a dopey smile, and you sighed in frustration. there was always back and forth with felicia. “spider, spider…”

you stood to clear your head before you would resort to punching her, time being of the essence with so many parts of new york being bombed and her being her usual self around you. heading to her sink, you let the water run; you couldn’t hurt felicia even if you tried. damn yourself for never being able to do so.

but then, her voice was softer, kinder. “...you never considered if what your friends are saying is the truth?”

head hung low, you gazed up to her. the webs were gone, and she was standing over you, though keeping a safe distance. she knew you were still fuming, and confused, and feeling so many things at once. she continued, “you never considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, i didn’t steal the necklace? you blindly trust your friends, just like that?”

your spider senses weren’t tingling. she was being honest. switching off the tap, you turned to face her, and she took off her own goggles, letting her hair down. this was her best attempt at being vulnerable. but you weren’t so quick to fall for it; she had gotten past your defences before. “they’re better at being honest than you are.”

you missed the hurt look that flashed on her face momentarily. then, you stood straighter, a hand gripping the counter as you steadied yourself and what you were about to say. 

shaking your head, you faced felicia with, “this, this, is why we broke up. because you can’t stop lying, and you can’t keep the life of crime behind you. even when i told you i can’t stay with you because of it, even when i told you that…if you gave it all up, i would have done anything, anything, to provide for the both of us. i would’ve even left SHIELD, the avengers, everything, for you.”

felicia bit her lip then, crossing over the threshold between the living room and kitchen, standing before you. you weren’t on your guard anymore. she put up a hand to your cheek, the sharp claws slowly running through soft skin. she could have scratched a permanent scar there and you would have let her.

she could have let her emotions run, but felicia was always better than you were at keeping matters close to her heart guarded. instead, she scoffed, and said, “the red one. out of your friends earlier. i’ve never seen her before.”

“she’s…newer.”

“she’s pretty. smart, capable, quick on her feet.” felicia pointed out. you nodded your head, the thought of natasha being mad, and confused, suddenly sending a wave of guilt through your heart. you shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her. she didn’t know.

“she was also green with jealousy when i kissed you on the cheek,” felicia giggled, and you looked up sharply. she nodded, and continued, “are you and red together now?”

you blinked, almost letting your guard down, almost telling felicia everything. that you wished you were together with red, that you loved red more than you loved anything else, that red was all that you ever wanted. and that red, mostly, was not ready for it all, but you would gladly wait for red until she was. that you would do anything for red. that–

“don’t touch her.” you warned, voice suddenly serious. the hand on your face was removed, a death grip with your own. felicia smiled. 

“so protective, spider. i miss when you were that protective over me.”

she removed her hand from your own, and walked to her bathroom, before bringing out her first-aid kit. clint had shot an arrow that managed to slice past her thigh. you watched as she nursed herself back to health, not flinching even as she invited you to come over to help. 

felicia could tell you had a lot on your mind. bringing up natasha was probably not a good choice. but felicia still cared for you, at the very least, and helped put you out of your misery by saying, later on, “i didn’t steal the necklace, you know. i’m telling the truth.”

your eyes were still fixed on her from where you were in the kitchen. she sighed. “the avengers, and practically everybody else, think it’s me. and of course, i fit the description, i fit the motive, everything. it was so easy to pin it on me and let everyone chase after me. but i didn’t steal the fucking necklace. i found out about it being gone and me being a thief the same time you all did.”

“...then why did you run?”

she scoffed, as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “because they were threatening to kill me, spider. i have the whole world against me. and…and i didn’t have you to come rescue me anymore, i thought. i had to run.”

“when you were innocent?”

“better than being killed by fucking gangsters, right?”

“you could’ve called me.”

she looked up at you. you had sat down in front of her, inspecting the bandages she had wrapped around her thigh. when you slowly unwrapped them to help put them on tighter for her, felicia asked, “...would you have come?”

you didn’t make eye contact with her. but the hand on her thigh was enough reassurance. “you know i would’ve.”

sixty seconds was not a long time. but to felicia, sixty seconds of her own contemplation, her going against her own head and morals, of thinking if it was worth what would come after what she was going to do, felt like forever. she was breathing heavily in the cold night air, your eyes were transfixed on the bandages before you, hand not moving an inch, and she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. what else she could do. 

so after those sixty seconds, felicia leaned in and kissed you. again. again and again, just like old times, just like all those heists and burglaries you had rescued her from before. your lips tasted the same, the arms around her felt as safe as ever, and when she pushed you into her bedroom and began undressing the both of you, the look of longing, and betrayed love you gave her was one she knew all too well. 

her hips moved against yours that night, hands thrashing and fingers finding their way into each other’s hair, and for a while, felicia knew she was safe again. for a while, the avengers, manfredi and his stupid goons, everyone else, was drowned out by the sound of your moans and cries, and felicia could let go. she finally reunited with her spider, even if just for a night, and what a reunion it fucking was for her.

– 

the next morning, however, you were dressed before she could even lift her head off of the pillow, shaking your head and muttering, “i have to go back. i have to go back. they’ll be looking for me.”

she could tell you were surprised by her interruption of, “and what if they do?”

“they’ll think i’m working with you. and i can’t be seen working with you.”

it felt almost cathartic to say, “fuck you.”

you then turned, a sympathetic look on your face and an apology leaving your lips in the next second. “you know what i mean, felicia.”

“you don’t think i’m telling the truth? that i didn’t steal the fucking necklace?”

you were silent for a while. your hand was crushing the shirt you were holding, deep in thought. if it weren’t for your spider senses, you would have almost missed catching the pillow felicia had thrown at you.

putting the pillow down, you then turned to her again, and said, “i’m giving you the opportunity to prove you’re telling the truth. come back to the avengers tower and work with us on finding the real thief.”

–

natasha couldn’t believe that you thought bringing felicia back was a good idea. that you thought any part of your plan was a good idea at all. 

it was one of the rare few times that she had voiced out what she thought was a stupid plan; tapping into the black cat’s skills and intel, and trusting her with information, to draw out the real thief of the necklace. it was one of the rare few times she was arguing with you. 

there had been more you’re putting all of us at risk and i don’t see a better solution exchanges between the both of you, each one escalating in intensity. the rest of the team were equally on natasha’s side, with the exception of fury, who had been brought in to weigh in on the situation. you had spent another hour convincing him earlier not to turn felicia in himself.

in the end, he stepped in, and natasha was bound to follow his directions. that didn’t stop her from sporting the most irritated, annoyed look on her face, however, as she brusquely brushed past you and felicia, who looked more than smug that she was temporarily welcomed back to the team. you were about to give chase, when fury instructed you not to. it was best to let natasha calm down first.

“pissed off red to bring me in,” felicia caressed your face then, causing you to bite your lip in annoyance as well, “i’m honoured, spider.”

–

she could feel herself sinking in jealousy; watching the way you and felicia interacted. 

you helping felicia to put on the comms in her ear and the bulletproof linings in her suit; you used to help natasha with that. even when she had gotten more accustomed to the avengers, even when she could put it on herself by then.

you letting felicia take the seat beside yours in the quinjet. it clearly was natasha’s, it even had her fucking initials carved into the armrest on it, when she was bored on a flight once. truth be damned that fury had requested you to keep felicia on a tight leash, but the seat beside yours? really? it hurt more than it should have, as natasha forced herself to avoid eye contact with you right as she stormed past you. you only realised your mistake a second or two later, seeing her angry charge to the very back of the jet, and you were just about to ask felicia to move the seat in front of yours when natasha had told you to save whatever you wanted to say to her. 

felicia could almost laugh at how nervous, and guilty, you looked all throughout the flight. if she wasn’t so on edge from the mission requirements and having to work in a team herself, she could almost feel a tinge of jealousy that you were treating your new girl better than you had ever treated her, even. red must have been special, she thought, as you finally unbuckled your seatbelt and made the journey to the back when the flight stabilised.

“nat,” you called her uncertainly, fingers digging into your palms as you waited patiently for her to finish chewing out a younger agent to look at you. then, she made eye contact with you, standing by her seat and eyes insecure, and she hated herself for not being able to stay mad at you for long.

still, she had a facade to keep. “what?”

you let out a smile when she came back to your side, gratefully taking the seat beside hers. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“i don’t know,” you had an inkling that you knew what, but you continued, “you’re mad at me. and i’m sorry for the disagreement earlier. i just…i have a plan, alright? and i’m sure it’s going to work, so…i wanted to defend myself. i’m sorry if it made you upset.”

she huffed, rolling her eyes. out of the corner of her eye, however, she could spot you looking even more guilty, and she relented. “you did make me mad.”

“i really am–”

“–but work is work, i know. and i trust your capabilities. you better bring the thief back with a plan, because it’s going to be a lot of paperwork and answering to board members if this doesn’t work out. and i’m not staying up late for all the nights you’re going to do that with you.”

she thought it was stupid how her heart managed to beat impossibly faster as your smile grew, nodding gratefully. “thank you for trusting me.”

then, the both of you spotted felicia unbuckling her seatbelt too, and approaching maria upfront. you made the decision to let the agent handle her for a while, returning your gaze to natasha.

somehow, the both of you managed to blurt out felicia’s name at the same time, both raising the other’s eyebrows. 

“you go first,” natasha declared. you nodded.

“are you okay with her? i know…that you’re not so comfortable working with the enemy. i’ll keep her by my side for the whole mission, and we’ll stay away, so you don’t get bothered so much.”

natasha thought it was amazing how oblivious you were; that the problem was you being too close to felicia, and not close enough to her. that she didn’t want you sticking by felicia’s side, because she was scared she was going to lose you to her instead.

“i…” before she could finish her sentence, however, maria was screaming for you, for felicia had finally annoyed her enough to warrant a restrain back to her seat. that, coupled with the fact that she had stolen maria’s watch without her looking even back at the construction site, and she had finally noticed.

i wish i didn’t have to share you with her, was what natasha wanted to say, as felicia giggled at your rough handling of her back to her seat, attempting to squirm out of your grasp. 

–

the mole had been from SHIELD; as felicia’s expertise let on. she had data from all around new york, obtained less than illegally, and with the technological expertise from maria, the team managed to crack down just who had been plotting for the downfall of manfredi, and collaterally, new york, all along.

the jet made a ninety degree return after wasting time chasing a lead that had previously run dry, and you  were at the other end of a phone call receiving fury’s wrath at the discovery of there being a mole from SHIELD. you had wanted to tell him it wasn’t so surprising, with the onslaught of rapid new hires, but decided to hold your tongue. 

it was you who finally proved that having felicia onboard was a good idea. coming up with a plan in a span of a few minutes, it was so well thought-out and elaborate, maximising everyone’s skills and covering every single possible outcome for capturing the thief, natasha found herself incredibly endeared with your cleverness; hanging on to your every word as you explained the details to the team gathered around you. 

in fact, her dopey look directed at you was what prompted felicia to snicker, and blurt, “so smitten with our spider now are we, red? earlier you looked like you wanted to bite her head off when she was fighting for me.”

to natasha’s surprise, it was you who stepped in first, “enough, felicia. focus.”

it was all the more attractive, and endearing, when she caught you preventing felicia from leaving later, warning her with a “don’t touch her” again, whatever it meant. natasha had wanted to throw her arms around you and kiss you right in that moment.

–

with felicia on her right, and you close behind her, natasha was chasing the thief, almost expertly slipping in and out, zigzagging through the maze of buildings surrounding the area. but you knew that the road would end at an intersection, and natasha and felicia would inevitably have to split to take a chance on where the thief would go. 

and while natasha had hoped wholeheartedly that you would take her side, and trust her instincts, her movements faltered when she snuck a look behind to find you gone. in the next second, you were by felicia’s side, helping her whizz through the crowds and getting even closer to the thief as you flew. 

heart beating fast in her chest, she hadn’t noticed how much it hurt to even see you choose someone else, even for a brief moment. you had made the decision that would best benefit the team, she knew, but professionalism didn’t count for the ache in her heart then, as she picked up her pace again and unwillingly round the corner in hopes of cutting off the culprit. 

–

it was felicia that landed the final blow; catching the thief with a taser sharp enough for you to stop him mid-air, and pinning him to the ground. and after some struggle and maria finally arriving with backup, you were finally relieved of your sudden duties to go on a mission so soon.

catching your breath, you didn’t realise how much your ribs were actually hurting until then. maybe minding your own business the next time wasn’t such a bad idea. 

but then, felicia was by your side, providing a shoulder for you to hold on to for support, as you heaved and pressed your arms against your ribs in an effort to stop it from hurting when you breathed too hard. it was one of the few kind things she had done; the least she could do for you after you’ve helped to clear her name, once again.

you leaned into her support, and upon sensing that her job, and temporary alliance with the avengers, was done, she whisked you away briefly to discuss her options before the actual avengers took matters into their own hands. 

natasha watched from a distance as you walked away in felicia’s arms; understanding how betrayed you could have felt with the avengers, and how painful it must have been to find a mole in the very organisation you had worked for for so long. what she couldn’t understand was how you could possibly be leaving her, when you would be taking her whole heart with you if you left, as well. 

if natasha had more courage, she would have at least tried to stopping you. but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, ever want to force you to stay. even if it was possibly the last time she was seeing you, even if it meant the possibility of you leaving before she has the chance to tell you she loves you.

her chest was closing in on her, breaths short and restrictive, and natasha knew she had to get away before the world caved in on her.

–

felicia led you into a clearing, and you forced yourself to let go of her to lean against a wall. you could tell she was looking at you with pity, and bit your lip at the foul taste it left in your mouth. 

“compromised intelligence, your friends at each others’ throats, your own boss not trusting you enough to see me again,” she pointed out, hiding a teasing smirk, “your future’s looking bright, spider.”

“thanks.”

she watched you slide down the wall, the pain exploding on your side. you hated that she sunk to your level, and reached out for your hand. you didn’t know why you let her. her fingers were cold as she held your own. 

“give it up, then. there’s no hope staying now, right?”

you let out a sneer. “then where would i go?”

“with me. come with me. would you be able to do it? give all this up for me now?”

you realised that felicia had suddenly grown more vulnerable; her eyes a little teary and her lip between her teeth. her other hand was helping you hold on to your injury, her touch cold and unsure. a sigh left your lips, knowing her usual teasing glint was gone. this was the felicia you loved most in the past.

but it was not felicia you loved, not anymore. and while you were thankful for the opportunity to love her, and that you didn’t regret what you had with her, you knew your heart was with someone else now. someone who was waiting for you to return home to her, someone who loved you more than you knew of it yourself. 

you slowly removed the hand that was holding your injury, smiling at felicia. she knew.

“red?”

“i have red now. and you and i are better off apart, you know this, felicia,” you held her face in your hands then, tone comforting, “you know i care about you, always have, always will. and thank you, for loving me, and helping us for this mission. but i’m not going anywhere without natasha.”

her claws withdrawn, felicia nodded understandingly. you continued, “keep your head low for a while. manfredi will still be looking for you, so will the police. i’ll try to cover up for you as much as i can, but don’t get into too much trouble. there’s only so much i can do.”

she laughed, getting up as she heard the police sirens approaching. she was sure you had picked up on it much earlier. 

“red really is special, huh?” you nodded at her question, smiling at the thought of going back to natasha later on. 

“bye for now then, spider,” her hair blowing in the wind, felicia almost looked finally at peace. 

“take care, felicia.”

you informed the police officers that you saw the black cat disappear from your sight just seconds before you arrived.

–

natasha was lying alone in bed by the time the other avengers returned. having left early, her room was dark and silent; the only sounds of her chest heaving quickly and her cracked sobs filling the air. 

there was a knock on the door from maria, calling out for her, but natasha ignored her subsequent knocks after telling her to go away from the first one. 

but then an hour later, there were two signature knocks on her door, following by you keying in the passcode to her room that she had only told you, and natasha’s attention was suddenly rapt.

she realised she probably looked a mess, and pathetic, for sobbing her eyes at out at the mere possibility of you leaving. but in her defence, she didn’t know, and you mattered too much to her for her to see you leave right in front of her eyes. 

“don’t switch on the light,” she warned, and your hand retracted from the light switch. you were about to ask her why, when she continued, “just…come here. come here and hold me, please.”

you were more than happy to oblige, sliding between the sheets and having your arms find themselves around her shivering body. she naturally leaned back into you, and natasha wondered if your senses were more elevated than she thought they could be, as your hands came up to wipe the tears she didn’t want you to see.

at the comfort of your touch, she could only ask, “...are you leaving me? for…the black cat?” 

she could feel you smile behind her, and your head resting at the space between her neck and shoulder. instead of replying, you said, “i actually went out to get you some donuts, and a few movies for us to watch, you know. i finally get to welcome you home, properly.”

natasha feels like her heart is going to burst. you chose her.

“but of course…just being with you is enough. just us, staying like this, is enough.”

natasha finally turned, seeing that you were still injured, but you reassured her by slowly massaging the frown and worry lines off her face. 

she pouted. “she’s pretty.”

you brought her to a sitting position, letting her on top as you rubbed your hands over her back. “you’re prettier.”

“has nice blue eyes.”

you kissed her, softly, slowly. “mhmm, i prefer green eyes.”

“i bet you looked good with her.” she could only imagine how powerful the two of you looked; the spider and the black cat swinging through new york city. it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

you let her see the selection of donuts you had bought; each spelling out a letter in welcome home. “i feel better when i’m with you.”

natasha finally looks back up at you, and she understands. you never had the intention of leaving. you belonged to her, right from the start.

that night, when you had fallen asleep, one arm slung around her protectively, natasha finally has the courage to tell you what she has always felt.

“i love you,” she says, before amassing all her love into the kiss she landed on your lips.

in your slumber, you smiled, and the redness didn’t leave her cheeks, even until the morning. 

[bywrios]

"c'mon, giddy'up back there," boothill mutters, his knee bouncing restlessly as he resists the urge to turn over his shoulder and check on your progress again. you grumble behind him, one hand smacking his metallic waist, and he can picture the furrow of your brow and the way your tongue sticks out in concentration in his mind's eye. one of the metal panels of his back has been removed, exposing the wires and circuitry of his mechanical organs.

the whole reason for this impromptu examination was the fact that he had been feeling... strange after his last bounty, for some reason. it had involved a high-speed chase in a roofless car, hot on the heels of some ipc scumbag. he��d done his best to dodge whatever shitty bullets the scumbag’s entourage had shot at him, but clearly, something had stuck—which is why he sits between your knees now as you check him up for damages.

his boot thumps on the soft, dusty earth under his heel. “well?”

“hold your damn horses,” you snipe back, muttering under your breath. he can feel a light pressure against the cords and connectors in his spine, the artificial replacement of his nerves. “i need to—oh.”

“what? whatsit?” he asks, a note of urgency in his voice at your silence. he isn’t particularly worried about getting fixed; his bounties ensure he has more than enough credits to spend on spare parts. it’s just that it’s a pain to have to travel to the nearest non-ipc mechanic feeling all funny.

(he ignores the voice in his head that tells him the true source of his worry: that his faulty body might not be able to protect you.)

“what’s wrong?”

he’s about ready to spin back when he hears a choked exhale rush out of your nose, followed by the airy sound of your giggles. it makes him still, but this time out of confusion, rather than concern.

“what the fudge has got you laughin’ your boots off back there?” he grumbles, and you only laugh harder. he glances over his shoulder and sees tears lining your pretty eyes, and then he glances down and sees… some sort of flying insect between your fingers? a very dead, and very fried insect. it had probably slipped in through one of the chinks in his plated skin during the chase.

“i guess you— i guess you could say there was a hardware bug,” you wheeze, free hand gripping onto his shoulder to steady yourself in between your fits of laughter. boothill gives you a withering glare, and plucks the dead, charred bug from your fingers, grinding it to dust between his own. he pretends to be annoyed, lips curled into a frown, but there’s a lightness to him he hasn’t felt in a while.

“hardy har har, yer so dang funny, ain’tcha?” he scoffs, shoving you lightly into the dirt.

you answer him with another burst of sweet laughter, unbothered and too lost in your own mirth, and it reminds him of the sound of the wind blowing through the mountain valleys, and how it whispered into his ears when he used to ride horses and not roofless cars.

with an exaggerated sigh, he lets your enjoyment at his expense slide this time.

(he doesn’t have a biological heart anymore, but even that mechanical thing in his chest can’t bring himself to interrupt you.)

[marigoldenblooms]

April Foolishness - Headcanons

Pairing (Not all at once): Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader, Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI - 18+

Summary: How would they react to you failing miserably- masterfully pranking them at every turn?

Tags: Fluff, established relationships, swearing, attempted pranking (mentions of bugs/arachnids, fish), innuendos and tension, comfort, light power usage, no actual smut (fade to black).

A/N: Happy silly day, ya'll!! I wanted to do something fun between classes, so this is it- april fools pranks on my favorite girls. Not proofread at all. Enjoy the boops!

Images are not mine, credit to owners! ~~~

Wanda x Reader

You hadn't been dating Wanda for very long.

Well, if you don't count the years of pining, that is.

You had hidden yourself behind a corner in her hallway, arms out and ready to spook.

This had been your same trick from Halloween (which between that and the turnips did not go well-)

But this time it’d go swimmingly.

After thirty minutes later, you heard the familiar clack of her heels against the compound’s floors, and…

Nothing. Silence.

You peeked around the corner to see where the witch had gone, and-

“Boo.”

Her warm grasp hugged your middle , yet you swear you jumped out of your skin.

“What the- Fuck, Wands-“ Your terror was met with her musical laughter, patting the the sides of your stomach.

“Well if you insist, sweetheart.”

Her voice echoed

She’d let go of you, and you could see the sparkling mirth in her eyes once you turned around.

She placed a quick peck on your cheek, looping your hand with hers to play with your fingers, gaze downcast at them even as her mischievous words would enter your head without her mouth moving.

“If you want to spook a mind reader, darling..”

You gulped as her touch grew more bold, pinning you against the wall- face warming as she’d tilt her head,

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

She’d chuckle at your flustered reaction, her grin cheshire as she’d lead you back to her room, giddy with sweet excitement.

“And happy April fools to you too, Wan-“

~~~ Natasha x Reader

Natasha had always managed to prank you first before you could prank her.

One year prior, you’d ended up with an egg in your hair while your whipped-cream pie prank had gone unsung.

And that was some really good whipped cream.

This year, though- you had buttered her up. Perks of being her partner- the pranks could go even harder.

“Good morning, my dearest sunshine-“ You’d murmur, settling her in with breakfast in bed.

Your trick? Salt in her coffee instead of sugar. Genius.

Natasha propped herself up on her arms, giving you an upturned eyebrow, “Oh, and what’s the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing much..” A shit eating grin plastered her face, one that would soon be returned by the redhead.

“Birthday? Anniversary..?” She’d poke at your side as you sat down, her touch ticklish as she helped you settle the tray of food on her bedsheets.

“M-mmn, nothin’, sugar..” Oh, how you’d be eating those words soon enough.

You’d watch as she’d take a sip from her coffee, eyes wide and sparkling as she opened her mouth-

And sighed in bliss.

What the fuck was wrong with this woman.

“Delicious, baby..” Natasha purred, taking another hardy swig, and you watched as she swallowed. “You’ve outdone yourself..”

“I…uh-“ Your babbling words would be cut short as you took a drink of your own mug-

And was met with intense, uncomfortable sodium.

She cackled as you spit your mouthful back into your cup, punching her jokingly with a red face, “You- you fuckin’-“

“Switched them?”

“Not just the brew-“ Your hand would’ve found your forehead in shock, “But the mugs too- how the shit did you do that?”

“A spy will never reveal her secrets-“ She’d lean up to kiss you, but instead would shift the platter over to the side. “And you need to wash your mouth out.”

“Not before I drink my coffee..” You’d hiss, chugging her now lukewarm mug down.

That was, until you saw a plastic totally real cockroach on the bottom of the mug, shrieking before chucking it against the wall.

“Love you too, dear.”

~~~ Yelena x Reader

You didn’t think Yelena could be scared of anything.

She threw a knife at the fake spider you pranked her with last year.

And she spat in the face of the ‘piranhas’ that had infested your room’s bathroom two years ago.

And even so, you tried again this year- although with something much less terrifying.

You'd flooded Yelena's room with multicolored balloons, painstakingly blowing them up before gently setting them on her floor.

And the best part?

She was asleep in her bed the whole time.

You had almost finished the second bag of balloons when Fanny, ever the sleepy Akita, finally stirred from their rest.

The pup locked eyes with you, and you were so thankful that they didn't bark.

That didn't stop Yelena from waking, though.

The blond would rise quickly, eyes darting around as soon as her dog moved an inch. You swear she had murder in her eyes, although that might've just been from awakening so quickly.

It all left her once she found you, though.

Groggily, she'd wipe at her eyes, mumbling something before kicking her foot off the bed to stand-

Bumping into a stray balloon.

She recoiled immediately, yowling as though she'd been pained deeply- and you were at her side in a heartbeat.

"Yelena, shit- you okay?"

"Yeah.." She'd gruff, her shoulders slacking once your hands found purchase on them. She'd hide her head in your shoulder, a surprising gesture.

You wrapped your arms around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back, "No need to be frightened, honey.." She'd hold you closer, and a flicker of thought ran through your mind, "Lena..are you scared?"

"What-? No-" She'd deny, her voice especially thick this early in the morn. "You just startled me-"

"That's a form of fear, hun-" Your chuckle was met with a groan from her, before she pulled her blankets back over the two of you.

Her words were muffled, "Fine, you got me- but now you hold me until I say so."

"My big, bad, scary Lena...of course, honey."

~~~ Kate x Reader

No matter what you pranked Kate with, she was always worried about you.

It's not unfounded, after you fell down the stairs during last year's April Fools, but still.

This time, you’d actually get her.

"Kate, made you some brownies!"

You heard her clamor with a fevrency that made her sound like a one man band.

She burst out of the hallway, expression wild with hunger and apprehension-

Until she saw you holding some kiddy scissors exceptionally sharp blades of murder and death and terror and-

“Babe!” She’d screech, barreling forth to snatch the scissors from your careful hands, placing them gently on the counter, before inspecting your palm for even the slightest scratch.

She hadn’t even noticed the brown construction paper, or the cut letter you’d pressed towards her middle.

“Kate, earth to Kate-“ Your smile towards her shook her from her thoughts, “I’m okay, pretty girl..Happy April Fools!”

Between the panic and the praise, her brain had to do a soft restart after that.

After a few more seconds, her goofy grin would return again, almost coy, “Gave me a heart attack there, you know-“

“I know,” You’d motion to the tin of hello kitty bandaids you’d raided from Tony, “And I was prepared, you doofus.”

She’d smile, nodding along until her face flushed- her hand rubbing smooth circles into your hip.

“But if you, you know- wanted to do some scissoring, as they say-“ You’d sigh, shaking your head with a teasing lilt, “You’re verryy smooth, dear.”

You’d press a boop to her nose, a teasing whisper, “I’ll think about it.”

~~~

[megalony]

Is It Bad?

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine requested by Anon, I really enjoyed writing this one I hope everyone likes it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: Chris has a bad day when he can't keep his routines, but things get worse when he and (Y/n) get in a car crash and the 118 don't know Eddie has a family.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mummy…"

Turning her head, (Y/n) looked back over at Christopher but the smile on her face started to fade when she saw the frown setting into his brows and the slight slope of his lips.

"What's wrong baby?" She turned the trolley round and slowly headed over to him.

Instead of answering, Chris reached out and patted his hand against the bare shelf on his left and with each tap, his effort got stronger until he was slamming his fingers down on the shelf and making a thudding noise that echoed through the shop. (Y/n) let go of the trolley and kneeled down in front of him to see what the problem was but she sucked in a deep breath when she realised what was missing from the shelf.

Cookies.

Pushing up, (Y/n) bounced on her heels and scanned the rest of the shelves in case they had been moved higher up and Chris simply couldn't find the brand he wanted. He liked the thin baked cookies with animal shapes baked into the underside and chocolate on top. They came in a dark purple packet that was hard to miss.

They always bought three packets every Friday to last him the week, he took a few in his pack up to school and always demolished a full pack on a Friday night when they watched Thomas the Tank Engine movie. The same movie every Friday, the same snacks and the same pyjamas and blanket.

"Excuse me, do you know where the animal snaps are?"

The elderly lady in front of (Y/n) leaned back to see where she was pointing before she clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"Sorry, we don't sell those anymore."

"Fuck,"

(Y/n) bit her tongue and turned back round to Chris. How could they not make those anymore? They were specific, they were this store's home brand cookies, that was the whole reason they did their weekly shop at this store every Friday, without fail. Come rain or shine, (Y/n) and Chris were here after he finished school and those cookies were always in the trolley.

"Uh, we'll get some other ones for now and I'll Google and see if anywhere else sells them and we can go somewhere else." She didn't even manage to get her phone out her pocket before Chris shook his head.

He slipped his arms out of his crutches, let them drop to the floor and then flopped down until he was sat on the polished floor with his head against the shelf and his arms around his chest.

Oh dear.

It wasn't as if (Y/n) could buy similar cookies and replace the packaging with the brand Chris was used to. He would taste the difference, he had a specific pallet like (Y/n) did, they could both tell when they didn't have sugar in their coke or when the crisps were the cheap brand or not the specific store brand they were used to.

Chris was a stickler for routine, it kept him content and relaxed, they helped shape and control his life. Fridays were for shopping and cookies and the same movie that he could watch five times over and not be bored of.

He didn't want different cookies or a different snack for a Friday night. He didn't want a similar brand that looked different and tasted tangy with bittersweet chocolate.

"Baby, let's finish the shopping and we can look across town for them," (Y/n) went down on her knees in front of him and reached out to him but she knew they weren't going to get finished here.

"Home."

"Now baby-"

"Home. Home. Home!" Chris reached out for whatever was on the shelf next to him and grabbed a bag of flour from the bottom shelf. It was a bit heavy for him but he moved quicker than (Y/n) anticipated and managed to throw it between his legs and bash his hands down on it like he was playing the drums. A gust of flour spread through the air around them and a powder of white settled down on (Y/n)'s face until she had to close her eyes and cough to get a clear breath.

The flour settled on Chris's glasses and covered his hands before he felt (Y/n) hoist him up by his underarms and lift him from the floor.

She juggled Chris in her left arm despite how heavy he was starting to get, and grabbed both crutches with her free hand and moved back to the trolley. It was usually Eddie who would carry Chris in and out of the car and pick him up if he got upset or had a meltdown. Despite the meltdowns Chris would have, he always stopped immediately if he was comforted, a cuddle or being carried always stopped him.

Especially if it was Eddie holding him.

"Okay baby, we'll go home."

(Y/n) sat him on the trolley handlebar, shoved his crutches in the trolley and whispered a quiet 'sorry' to the lady who was already smiling and shaking her head politely.

He left his legs swinging between them but kept his arms tightly bound around (Y/n)'s neck and his face buried in her chest so she had to lean over the trolley while she pushed it towards the checkout. They barely had half the things on their list. She would have to come back tomorrow and see if Eddie's Abuela would have Chris for an hour. If the shopping wasn't done on a Friday, Chris wouldn't go unless it was to the toy shop.

Her back started to burn and ache when they reached the checkout and Chris still wouldn't let go of her. (Y/n) had to carry him on her hip as long as she could while leaning in the trolley and putting the items on the checkout. When her back and arm started to strain, (Y/n) set Chris down on his feet and let him coil his arms around her waist instead and burrow into her side.

"Home. Is daddy home?"

(Y/n) was relieved Chris had said something a little more than home when they were back outside the car. He was sat back on the trolley, arms around her neck and his face so close to hers she had to kiss his nose to try cheer him up.

"He won't be home yet baby, but when we get back you can ring him and talk to him and Buck, how's that sound?"

"Hm." He let (Y/n) lift him him up and put him in his car seat in the back of the car but he wouldn't unwind his arms from her neck. "No, mummy, no." He started to whine in her ear until he was almost crying and his arms were shaking from how tight he was holding her against his chest.

"Christopher," Her warning tone was enough to make him let go and he let her strap him in.

His head fell against the headrest and he brought his hand up to his mouth so he could bite down on his thumb. There was no trace of his usual bright smile on his lips and he closed his eyes and burrowed into his seat.

It was going to be a long day.

***

"You all know the drill, spread out, anyone who can walk or with minimal injuries, send them to the medics. Anyone you can't free yourself, shout out. Go."

They all knew where they needed to divert to. Eddie and Hen were already getting a woman out of her car on the outskirts of the crash. Chimney was with another medic helping anyone who could freely get out of their vehicles and make their way to assistance. And Bobby was heading down with Buck towards the cars that were more damaged, wedged in the middle of the mess.

Reaching a dark red fiesta, Buck narrowed his eyes and climbed over the bonnet to reach the driver's side. The back of the car was crumpled up against the divider between the motorway and van had crashed into the passenger side and wedged it into a corner.

"Miss? Fire and rescue, can you hear me?"

Buck sucked in a deep breath when he opened the door and it fell off its hinges, crashing down to the floor. He bent down and leaned on the edge of the car but he could see immediately that the driver was unconscious.

Her hair was fanned across her face, her chin was tilted down into her chest and she was slumped to the left. Buck tried to look for injuries but the most pressing one he could see was her right leg. It was broken so badly the bone was sticking out halfway down beneath her knee.

"Mummy!"

A shiver bolted down Evan's spine and he grabbed the roof to steady himself. He hadn't thought to look in the back.

A little boy, roughly seven or eight, was sat in a car seat behind the passenger seat. He had a cut to his brow, he was trembling, his glasses were hanging around his neck on red string and he was biting his thumb like he was about to chomp through it.

"Hey there, my name's Buck I'm a fireman. Can you tell me mummy's name?"

"Mummy… I want mummy." He reached his arm out towards the driver's seat and made a fist and a grabbing motion to try and reach her but the seatbelt was strapped too tight and he couldn't get it off.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Christopher."

"Good lad, stay put and I'm gonna get you and mummy out of here, alright? Are you hurt?"

When Chris shook his head, Buck managed a smile before he leaned over the driver and reached for her bag that was still resting on the passenger seat. He could see her eyes fluttering behind her eyelids, he needed a name and address to give the hospital when they got her transferred and helped out. Someone would have to come and take Christopher when they got to hospital or they would have to call social services for him.

He found her purse quickly and rummaged around for her driver's license but when he read her name, all the blood drained down to his feet and pins and needles coursed through his legs.

Oh God.

"Cap… Cap I need assistance, badly." His hand shook around the radio, he couldn't say anything else lest Eddie heard him through the radio and got panicked. He was busy helping someone with Hen, they couldn't risk panicking him until he had sorted his patient. "Just gonna put this on your neck (Y/n)," Buck whispered quietly and grabbed a neck brace from his bag.

He carefully tilted her head back and clipped the brace around her neck to keep her head in place. He didn't know what kind of spinal or nerve injuries she might have sustained and he didn't want to give her any further pain. It was a good sign that she groaned when he moved her though, she was coming back round.

"Buck, what have you got?" Bobby knelt down near the passenger door but when he noticed the little boy in the back, he quickly moved to jam open the back door.

"Cap, it's uh… her name is (Y/n) Diaz… Eddie never said he was married."

Buck wasn't sure if he was getting the wrong assumption, she could still be Mrs Diaz and be Eddie's sister. Maybe she kept her last name when she got married. Eddie did have three sisters after all. Or she could be a cousin. Eddie never said anything about going home to a family after work, he didn't mention having a child waiting at home for him. Eddie never indulged about a family and Buck told him everything about his life.

"You must be Christopher, I'm Bobby, I work with your dad. Can I check you over and get you out of here?"

Bobby dared to glance his eyes across at Buck whose face fell and his jaw dropped. Eddie really had hid a whole other life from him- from the rest of the team. The only one Eddie told was Bobby because he had to divulge personal information when he had the job interview. He had to tell Bobby that he had a wife and son at home and if his son had a disability, in case he ever had to rush off shift and go to the hospital or take a personal phone call on shift.

"Daddy, I want daddy." Christopher's words were mumbled around his thumb that he wouldn't stop biting.

"I'll take you to your dad, don't worry. Eddie, when you get a second come over to the red Fiesta near the front pile up please."

"On my way."

Bobby reached over and wiggled the seat buckle hard enough to wrench it free and let Chris breathe better. He had a small cut on his chest from where it had pinned into his skin and glued him to his seat. There was a cut on his head and he pointed down to his foot but when Bobby checked, it wasn't broken or fractured. Most likely sprained.

The car seat had saved him from most of the impact.

"Okay, come here." Bobby carefully picked him up and lifted him out of the car but when he turned round, he held his breath.

'Here we go.'

The medic bag in Eddie's hand dropped down to his feet and he stumbled back a pace until he felt Hen's hand on his back and her worried whispers in his ear asking what was wrong. He thought Bobby saying a red fiesta was a bit unnerving; it was the same car as (Y/n)'s.

But the moment his eyes latched onto his captain, he felt like his world had turned upside down.

He knew that mop of brown curls anywhere and those legs that were kicking and swinging like he always did when he got picked up and carried around. That was his little boy.

"Christopher? Oh God, Chris! I'm here bud I'm here!"

Eddie pulled away from Hen and weaved through the cars towards his son who started to scream. His arms started to wave and when Bobby put him down, his voice overtook the sound of the car horns and the raised voices begging for help. All Eddie could hear was his boy screaming his name and waving his arms out towards him.

"Daddy!"

"I'm here, oh bud I've got you." Tears fell down Eddie's face when his arms looped around his son and he lifted him from the floor. He couldn't breathe when Chris snapped his arms so tightly around his neck and burrowed his face into his neck.

He cupped the back of Chris's head, tangling his fingers in his curls as he kissed the side of his head repeatedly.

"Are you alright?"

"Foot hurts… mummy won't wake up. No cookies in shop, you take us home now. Daddy I wanna go home." There was too much rattling around in Chris's head and he couldn't cope. His foot was aching, his mum wouldn't answer him when he cried out for her. They didn't have cookies in the shop so tonight's movie night was now ruined. And then the car started to spin and everyone was crying.

But Eddie was here now. Eddie could take them both home and look after them.

Eddie's hand tangled tighter into Chris's curls and he got closer to the passenger side of the car and peered down. (Y/n) was crying. She was awake now and she was sobbing her heart out. Eddie had to get her out of there, he had to get them both to the hospital and look after them.

"Chris, buddy can you wait here with Bobby for me so I can get mummy out?"

Bobby nodded and held his arms out again but Chris wouldn't have it. His arms stayed tight around Eddie's neck and he started to whimper and cry. He wasn't leaving either of his parents, he was staying right where he was in Eddie's arms.

"You take us home. Now. Home-"

"Buddy I can't take you home, I have to get mummy out she's hurt."

"Home!"

Eddie tipped his head back as if to try and force the tears into the back of his head and his lips pressed into a thin line when Chris started to cry. His hands bashed down on the back of Eddie's chest and shoulders and his legs started to swing and hit out at his legs and knees so much Chris himself cried from the pain it caused in his sprained foot.

"Buddy please-"

"Home-"

"Christopher Diaz!" The moment the name passed through his lips, Chris stopped kicking out and gasped when Eddie dropped down to his knees onto the tarmac.

Huffs, sniffs and bubbling cries passed through Chris's lips but he loosened his arms around Eddie's neck and tilted his head down to burrow his face into Eddie's florescent jacket that smelled of dirt and smoke. A smell he always associated with his dad from this job he'd had for the past eight months.

"I promise, when I get mummy out and safe, I will not let either of you out of my sight. And when mummy is okay, I will take you home and we will sort everything out. I will make it better, I always do. Now you stay with Bobby, understand?"

With a lasting kiss to Chris's temple, Eddie picked him back up and let Bobby take hold of him and set him on his hip. Bobby stood off to the side so Chris could still see his parents but he wasn't close enough to see the damage or get too frightened. The little boy burrowed his head against Bobby's and started to pat his chest rhythmically to calm himself down.

Eddie wasted no time in climbing into the passenger seat but when he looked across at Buck, he could see something flare in his eyes. Maybe he should have told the team- or at least Buck, about his family.

But he didn't like mixing work and personal life and he never thought he would be on scene where his family had been in a car crash.

"Mi amor, it's me, how we doing?"

"Eddie! God, baby… where's Chris?" (Y/n) managed to open her eyes and when the tears fell down her face, she craned her eyes to the left to look at her husband. It was a Godsend to hear his voice. She had no idea who the other man next to her was, the only person on the team she had spoken to before was Bobby. But the other lad next to her seemed very concerned which was sweet.

"He's fine, Cap's got him, just a bad foot that's it." Eddie kissed her temple and reached down to hold her hand. "This is Buck, we're gonna get you out…" Eddie looked over at Buck but when he glanced down at (Y/n)'s leg, Eddie could feel bile rising in his throat.

"(Y/n), I'm going to put a strap around your thigh to restrict the bleeding, then we can get you on a stretcher and out of here, alright?"

"W-what's wrong with my leg? Baby, i-is it bad?"

(Y/n) tried to look at Eddie but she couldn't move her head due to the neck brace she had woken up with. Everything ached and burned but both of her legs felt they were on fire. What was wrong with her leg? Has she broken it or got a deep gash that was bleeding out? It didn't feel like her leg was hanging off or in bad shape.

Moving over, Eddie leaned across (Y/n) with one hand on the seat and the other moved to cup her face so he was in her line of sight. His thumb brushed over her cheek and he managed a smile before he leaned over and gently pecked her lips.

"You've broken it, mi amor but we can get it fixed up. Stay really still so Buck can strap it."

(Y/n) brought her hand up to grab Eddie's wrist and she nodded, keeping her eyes on him when she felt Buck shuffle a small plastic strap beneath her thigh. Her teeth gritted together and she gasped when he pulled it tight and popped the pin in. She had to be bleeding for them to cut off her blood supply.

"I'm gonna round the other side so we can get you out," He kissed her again before he scrambled out of the car. They had to move her now, her leg was in bad shape and Eddie could feel the car overheating. It was a trap ready to blow.

Her hand reached up to rub her temple, her head felt like it was splitting and her back was burning. She tried to push forward to relieve the pain in her back but when she heard Buck mutter no and his hands grabbed her shoulders, she looked down.

"Eddie!" His name screamed from her lips and she pushed back in the chair, moving her hands to grip her thigh like she was going to magically fix it. Another tortured scream flew past her lips before a gurgling cry errupted and she slammed her head against the headrest. "Eddie, ooh fuck, Eddie-"

Her bone was sticking out. Her trouser leg was no longer dark blue, it was a horrid shade of crimson and a sprig of bone was punctured out along with a torn piece of muscle that made (Y/n) almost throw up.

She couldn't lose her leg. Christopher needed her, she had to drive, they had their routines, their walks and their physio they did in the park to keep him up and active. She carried her boy around when he needed her, she couldn't lose her leg. If they saved it, how long would she have to be in a cast? She couldn't look after Chris if she was on crutches too or God forbid, she had to be in a wheelchair. He was going to be petrified enough after this whole ordeal.

Buck moved out the way and took Eddie's place in the passenger seat so Eddie could crouch beside his wife.

his hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s face and he took a very deep, slow breath and managed a smile to try and calm her down. He couldn't have her panicking on him now, they had to get her out.

"Mi amor, shh. You're gonna be fine, we can fix this. I'm gonna spin you round and Buck will get your legs, and we'll lift you out of here. Christopher is waiting for us, come on mi amor you got this." He kissed her head, peppered his lips across her cheek and down her jaw until she nodded in agreement with him.

"Here we go (Y/n), on three."

Buck kneeled up on the chair and leaned over, carefully holding her knees in place while Eddie twisted her round so her back was flush up against his chest. His hands slipped under her arms and he gripped her flesh comfortingly tight and nodded over at Buck.

"One, two, three."

Eddie took her weight on his chest and started shuffling back while Buck climbed over the seat, trailing his hands beneath (Y/n)'s legs to hold her ankles and elevate her legs.

The scream (Y/n) let out made Eddie tip his head back and he held his breath to try and compose himself. He felt her hands reaching back to grip his biceps and ground herself while the boys carried her to the stretcher Hen was waiting with.

"Baby d-don't go… p-please get Chris,"

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." He smothered her temple with a kiss and held her hand until they got near the ambulance Bobby had moved over to. When they were close enough, Eddie reached his free arm out and looped it around Chris's waist and sat him on his hip. "I've got you both, you're safe. I'm here."

"Daddy," Chris wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck when they were in the ambulance and he perched on his dad's lap. He could feel his dad kissing his hair and his mum rubbing her hand up and down his leg, both of them doing their best to keep him calm and stable.

They would be okay.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [4.7K] mean!eddie, toxic relationships, exes to hooking up, power plays and a nineties house party. You weren’t sure whose house you were in, but there was body glitter smeared across their white walls. 

Weezer was blasting from the stereo in the living room, crowds of people moving between there and the kitchen, more draped over the staircase, making out with people they just met. You weren’t sure what time it was, but it was dark outside the windows, the rest of the house lit up with plug-in disco balls that spun slowly, discs of orange and red and blue and pink bouncing off of faces and floors. 

It was late enough that you’d lost your shoes, late enough that the watermelon vodka you’d brought with you was empty. Late enough to make some bad decisions. 

Robin found you in the kitchen, shoulders bumping against yours as she steadied herself, eyes red rimmed and she smelled like smoke and cherries, the blue eyeshadow you helped her perfect was now a smattering of aquamarine glitter down her cheeks. The lights made her look like a fairy, the cheap drink made her look too far gone. 

“You okay?” You asked her, grinning when she pulled you into her chest, your cheek smashed against her own. You’d have matching freckles now, blue and sparkly. “Where’s Nance?”

“She’s peeing,” Robin yelled back, a little too loud since the music was fading into another song. You winced but laughed all the same when she smacked a noisy kiss to your cheek before turning her mouth to the shell of your ear. “That guy has been checking you out all night.”

Robin gestured not so subtly to a boy by the door. Tall, blonde, green eyes. Pretty enough, if you liked cargo pants and the Ed Hardy look. You didn’t know him but he caught your gaze and lifted his chin in greeting. You looked away. 

“Mmm,” you wrinkled your nose and you dragged Robin back into the living room, coffee tables pushed up against walls as throngs of people gyrated under the lights. Everyone sparkled, mini skirts showing off bare legs, flashes of neon stripes in hair. “Not my type,” you told her. 

“Oh, we’re getting fussy now, huh?” Nancy appeared between you both, a bright blue bottle of something in one hand. She took a sip and then offered it to Robin. “I thought you wanted laid tonight?”

You shrugged, looking down, avoidant. You plucked at the charm bracelet on your wrist, turning the glow stick that was wrapped above round and round. You weren’t sure where it came from but it turned your skin violet. “Maybe,” you told your friends. “I don’t know.”

You had wanted to get laid tonight. That was the plan, anyway. That’s why you were wearing your shortest skirt, a white, pleated thing that would be more suited for a cheerleader but a boy had once told you it was his favourite. The snag in the plan was that particular boy was nowhere to be found.  You had already searched through the party with only the faces of strangers staring back at you, and when you made it into the backyard, your heart stalled at the sight of Gareth, of a leather jacket and a black and white baseball shirt. 

But the boy wasn’t with his friend and you didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction of letting them know you were looking. So when Gareth caught your eye and smirked, shrugging, you spun on your heel and tried to pretend you didn’t know even know him anymore. 

It had been months, after all. 

And you had been the one to break up with him. Hadn’t you? That part of the story was blurry, maybe even up for debate. At least, he liked to fight you on the fact of the matter. Another party, another girl who got too close, a situationship that hadn’t been defined even though the night before he was whispering all things sweet into the junction of your thighs. It had all been cherry vodka and weed, a messy argument under the blare of R’n’B and neither of you had had the patience to listen to the other. 

You’d thrown his leather jacket at him and walked home.

The next weekend you’d watched as he pulled Tammy Peterson onto his lap and licked into  her mouth, his heavy eyes on you as you stood across the room and watched. Tammy left with his jacket that night, heavy and clinking with zips and chains.

You hadn’t spoken since. 

So why did seeing his name buzz across your phone screen not surprise you?

munson: heard u were lookin 4 me 

You scoffed, staring down at the little pink phone in your hand, the tiny text barely even visible in the low light. Confidence oozed from his message and you lifted your head, scanning through the crowd until you found Gareth, still lingering by the back door and he grinned knowingly when he caught your eye. You scowled, lifting your hand to flip him the bird and the sincerity of it was lessened by the butterfly ring on your finger. 

Robin and Nancy frowned, both of them moving to your sides to peer over your shoulders. “What’s going on? Who’s texted you?”

You hit the back button suspiciously quick, the green Home Screen empty of anything incriminating but you still hid it against your chest. The device seemed to burn you, as did your cheeks. “What?” You yelled over the music, swallowing hard. You suddenly wished the stereo was louder. “Nothing. No one.”

It was easy to make an excuse then, leaving the two girls on the makeshift dance floor as you pushed past people on the staircase, elbowing couples who were too busy making out. You caught the bathroom door just as someone was leaving it, a boy too drunk to stand upright and he slurred something at you just before you slammed it behind him, sliding the lock into place. The music was quieter in there, a muted thud of drum and bass from below your feet. There was a half full can of beer on the toilet cistern and someone had left their bra in the bathtub. There was more glitter on the tiles, pink, lavender and gold and the overhead bulb had been swapped out for a bug zapper, the whole room turned violet. 

You tapped out a reply, perched against the sink, bubblegum pink nails pressing furiously at the buttons, your nose scrunched in annoyance, the tip of your tongue trapped between teeth. 

u heard wrong :)

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply, your cell vibrating in your hands and announcing a new text message. The tiny screen of your Nokia lit up green with the boy’s name, something that still made your heart pound.  

munson: dont play coy w me sweetheart.. we both know u miss me x

don’t flatter yourself baby 

You knew this game. You loved this game. And Eddie Munson was your favourite person to play it with. It was coming around to that late night early morning hour that led to badly made plans, that time of the night when friends were too drunk to keep tabs and the front door of the house you were in had a pretty golden glow to it, an escape to someone’s bed. 

You squeezed your thighs together, chipped nail polish tapping against your teeth and you chewed at your thumb, waiting. You really did want to get laid. It had been too long, one drunken hook up since you’d decided that Eddie wasn’t worth your time anymore, a guy from the town over, taken back to yours after a party in someone else’s backyard that led to beer pong and a heavy make out session against a strangers corvette. 

He couldn’t find your clit, thought foreplay was a few minutes of pinching at your tits and he came before you were close to anything that resembled pleasure. Then he drank the last of your OJ, stole your phone charger and left at four am. 

This? Eddie? One last hook up? You needed this. Nay, you deserved this. Even if your friends would strongly disagree. Your relationship with Eddie Munson had been somewhat tumultuous, most would say. From high school sweethearts to twenty somethings that were headed in different directions, he was a boy you couldn’t quit all that easily. Eddie liked guitar and gaming, smoking weed and sleeping in and your chances at a decent enough career path were woefully diminished if you stayed behind in Hawkins for him.  

Eddie grew anxious, jealous, turned resentful and then got too cocky, growing out his curls, wearing big boots and leather jackets and giving himself tattoos in his friends' basements. You got colder, distant, impatient. Then break ups ended in make ups and that ended in fucking him in the front seat of his van and it would happen all over again the next weekend. 

It was fun until it wasn’t.

But the sex was fucking ridiculous.  

And so was Eddie’s confidence because he simply replied with an address, the new apartment you’d only heard about. He’d taken his time, but he’d saved up and moved out of Wayne’s, out of the trailer park and into a small one bed, a new girl every other weekend to grace the sheets. 

munson: 624 Oakbank Street apt 61B. second floor sweetheart, c u soon ;)

No. You wouldn’t. You shouldn’t. You did. Fuck it, it’s fine. 

You unlocked the door, swerved the drunk girls who fell in through the frame and tackled the stairs again, hopping over splayed limbs and couples intertwined, heading for the front door and hoping someone would be around who could take you to the other side of town. 

“Where are you going?”

Robin. She was grinning, smug, knowing. You shrugged, pocketing your cell before she could grab it and you resisted the urge to make a run for it. “Nowhere. Home. I’m hungry.”

Robin snorted, glitter specks shining from her cheeks. “For dick? Or a cheeseburger?”

Your lips quirked up. There wasn’t much use in lying. “Both?” 

—————

Eddie was standing at his apartment door when you turned the corner. Your heels had clicked up the stairwell and the wall sconces lit the way, your eyes flicking over each door number until it didn’t matter anymore. 61B was already open, a boy standing in the frame in soft jeans, acid wash blue with rips in the knees, a Metallica band shirt that’s collar was loose and stretched out. He still had his rings on, silver and chunky and supposedly scary looking.

The chain you’d bought him for his birthday last year was still around his neck. 

It should’ve made you angry, it should’ve at least made you annoyed but the cheap vodka and the empty feeling in your chest and between your legs had you head spinning. A record that stuttered and skipped, the same dirty loop stuck in your head because you were sure there’d been much hotter men at the party, maybe. Probably. 

Right?

But at that moment, Eddie was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. He was smirking, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame, curls soft and falling into his eyes like he’d just washed them and you tried not to walk faster, to not trip over yourself in a haste to get to him. 

He didn’t kiss you hello. He just kept smirking and he moved to the side to let you in, eyes shining with glee as he followed your movements, your body brushing past him as you entered his new place. It smelled like his room at Wayne’s, held the same scene that once reminded you of home, smoke and hidden weed, Eddie’s cologne and the same detergent his uncle used. 

It made you bristle and square your shoulders. This wasn’t the plan. 

“Nice place,” you said and you sounded bored, unimpressed. Good. “I see we’re still not giving up the toys.” You gestured to the shelf above the sofa, a line of hand painted figurines placed carefully in a battle formation. 

“They’re collectibles, sweetheart,” Eddie grinned and he didn’t sound phased. He didn’t look bothered. “Have some taste. You want a drink?”

“We both know I’m not here for you to wine and dine me, Eddie,” you tilled your eyes and stood in the middle of the room, your hands on your hips. Suddenly, your skirt felt so much shorter than it had before and the boy let his gaze fall to your legs, the expanse of bare thigh that was framed by pretty pleats. “Let’s not act cute.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh, an eyebrow quirked. He let himself drop onto the sofa, an army green thing with corduroy cushions, his arms stretched out along the back of it. He pouted. “You don’t think I’m cute?”

You said nothing. You couldn’t. Your heart was beating too fast. 

Eddie made a cooing sound, a soft, patronising thing that made your toes curl in your heels and the cotton fabric of your underwear just grew a little wetter, clinging to you. It was awful. 

“We both know you think I’m cute, c’mon now,” Eddie teased. His eyes were shining, dark in the low light because he only had one damn lamp in the room. “You don’t wanna play nice? Fine.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he plucked a half smoked joint from the amber glass ashtray on the coffee table in front of him. He sparked up, placing it lazily between his lips before gesturing to you, gaze heavy. Smoke trailed from his lips as he spoke, the joint between his lips, expertly held in place with no hands. “Take your clothes off then.”

You should’ve been outraged, you should’ve laughed in his face. You should’ve flipped him off and grabbed the bag you dumped on his breakfast bar and left. But Eddie was grinning at you and he looked like a challenge, he looked like a dare, he looked like the prettiest fucking mistake and you really wanted to make a bad decision. 

A terrible one, maybe. Fuck it, it’s fine. 

You shrugged off your jacket. Denim and metal buttons hitting the floor and you kept eye contact the entire time, unflinching when Eddie’s grin widened. He relaxed, looking every bit in control as he slouched into the couch cushions, eyes wandering over the bare skin you uncovered, smoke trailing from his barely parted lips and up to the ceiling. 

He was already hard, you could tell. You could see. The heavy bulge prominent underneath his denim, twitching as he got off on being in control. 

Your hands came to your chest, trailing down your sternum and chasing the tiny lavender buttons there, a purple camisole top popped apart with each twist of your fingers. It fell apart without much effort, fell to the floor when easier with a tiny shrug of your shoulders and you stood in just your skirt and chunky heels, looking like some kind of wet dream barbie. 

You didn’t need a bra with the plans you’d had for yourself. 

You cocked your head to the side, indifferent, unbothered. You tried to act like your heart wasn’t racing, like your cunt wasn’t throbbing and you wanted to beg to be touched. Eddie could play a cruel game and weakness wasn’t an option, so you stood a little taller and let your tits jut out all pretty, peaked nipples and trails of Robin’s pink body glitter evident on your collarbone. 

Eddie sucked in a breath, lips twisting to hide the twitch of a smile that seemed more real than the others, a proud grin that told you you were winning so far. So you hooked your thumbs into the waist of your skirt and shimmed your hips, white pleats joining the rest of your clothes on the floor, a pretty pool of fabric and dignity. 

Bubblegum pink thong, cherry red heels, strappy and with platforms high enough to crush a man’s ego. 

“Keep the shoes on,” Eddie murmured, jaw tense, cheeks a rosy flush. “They’re real pretty, honey. They new?” The boy leaned forward again, elbows in knees, the roach stubbed out in the ashtray. 

You nodded, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and your bracelets jingled as you ran your hands down your stomach, fingertips trailing along the delicate string of your underwear that curved over your hips, the soft of your stomach. 

“If I told you to come n’suck my dick, would you do that too?” Eddie’s smile was sharklike, his words taunting, a little mean. Like he thought he was still winning. “You look so pretty on your knees, you know that? Love it when you put that hot little mouth to use.”

Your eyes narrowed even though your breathing hitched. Just a little, not enough for him to notice. But you knew it was only a matter of time before you had to rub your thighs together and the pretty pink shade of your underwear would turn a little darker. “Take your clothes off and we’ll see what happens.” 

Eddie laughed, a brave noise, smug and cocky. He tilted his head, jaw a strong line, the shadow of stubble there and you knew if you got to dig your teeth into it, he’d moan for you. 

“You think you’re callin’ the shots here, babe? That’s real cute, you’re almost naked and you think you’re in charge?”

You grinned back, standing a little prouder, fingers hooking into the hand of your thong, running across your navel. Eddie followed the movement, gritted his teeth and huffed. 

“That’s exactly why I’m in charge,” you cooed, pouting, sickly sweet and far from innocent. “Take your clothes off, Eddie, don’t be shy.”

He shook his head, too stubborn, an age old game you both played so well. Except before, it was sweetened with kisses, soft laughter and gentle hands that teased and coaxed the other into submission. Now? Now this was just psychological warfare. 

He stared at you, mean, eyes narrowed and his cheeks still pink, slouched back on the sofa with a casual hand thrown over his crotch. You weren’t sure if it was supposed to hide his hard on or offer some relief, but you watched the length of him twitch when you shifted your weight, popping one hip and he pressed his palm over himself. 

You grinned, victorious. 

But still, he didn’t move. So you sighed, wistful and dramatic and you tried to ignore the rising heat in your chest because you were so exposed and so vulnerable, ready to lay yourself bare for the guy that broke your heart and then spent each Saturday night in bed with you, pretending that he didn’t. 

But hey, maybe you were to blame for that too. 

Instead of saying anything else, you shrugged and made your way over to an armchair. You recognised it from Wayne’s trailer, one Eddie must’ve taken to remind him of home and you dropped yourself onto it, one leg hooked over an arm. You let your head fall back, lazy, the last buzz from the beer you took in the back of the cab simmering below your skin and you didn’t waste anymore time teasing. Your hand slid into the front of your thong, fingers seeking out in the way they knew best, parting your folds until you were spread and hidden, eyes scrunching shut at the pad of your finger swiping over your clit.  

You made a pretty noise, extra soft and gasping, just for Eddie. He’d long since taught you how to put on a show, always about the drama. So you whined, let your lips fall into a pout and arched your back. Your fingers slipped down, prodding experimentally at your entrance before you gave up all pretence and slid two inside of yourself, not long enough, not thick enough, but it satiated the empty feeling that had clung to you since you first arrived at the party. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned and your eyes shot open, gaze finding his and he was pinker then before, all flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, his ringed fingers wrapping around the outline of his cock through his jeans and he squeezed it roughly. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart, that’s just filthy.”

He said it like a compliment, words like a reward and they made your body fizz, skin electric and you smiled, humming lazily like you didn’t care. 

You did you did you did. 

You wanted to one up him, you wanted to win, you wanted to break him and put him back together and make him fall in love with you all over again. You wanted to make sure he never looked at another girl. You wanted to make him crawl. 

So you pulled your fingers from yourself, slick and glossy in the low light, bringing them to your lips before you sucked them. Eddie’s jaw dropped, eyes hooded and pupils blown wide and he leaned forward, desperate to see more. He was barely holding himself up, clinging to the coffee table as he stared at the space between your thighs. 

“Holy fuck, babe, that— that’s,” he cut himself off with a groan when you snuck your hand back inside your underwear, wet fingers sliding noisily over your clit. “Oh, that’s so fuckin’ hot. Come ‘n let me have a taste, baby. Let me get my mouth on that pretty pussy, huh?”

You shook your head and smiled, cotton candy underwear stretched tight over your knuckles and you moved a little quicker. You weren’t giving in. You’d make yourself come before you did. 

It took three more minutes before Eddie moved, growling obscenities as he stood and yanked off his shirt, snapping at his belt buckle with one hand as he crossed the room. You thought he’d be on you, you thought he’d maybe drop to the floor and put his mouth on you, lick you slow and soft like he was so good at, like he’d asked for. But he grinned something wicked as he grabbed your wrist, hand tugged from between your thighs and then you were pulled up. He wasn’t rough about it, but he certainly wasn’t gentle. 

“You wanna play games?” He huffed, voice wavering a little because he finally had his hands on you. Eddie gazed down at you, still a little taller even despite your heels. His hand caught your chin, finger and thumb pinching at your cheeks until your lips popped into a pout and you burned. “Let’s play, pretty thing. You wanna be my toy, huh?”

You gave in, only just. You nodded, gasping when Eddie’s thumb stroked over your lips and he smiled, boyish and charming and all too pretty. Then he spoke. “I always used to break my toys.”

Fuck. 

He spun you, fast enough to be disorienting and then you were pushed onto the armchair, knees on the cushions and your chest to the back of it. Your hands curled over the top of it, holding on for what was about to come. The first smack on your ass was startling, hard enough to warm you, heat blooming over the curve of you keened, eyes slipping shut and into that fuzzy space only Eddie seemed to be able to bring you to. Your head fell forward, resting on the cushion and you sighed, his name a whisper that you hoped he didn’t hear. 

“C’mon, baby,” you could hear the grin in his voice and he slapped your other ass cheek, making the fat there bounce. “Make it pretty for me, hm?”

You knew what he wanted and you obeyed, too far gone from the feel of your own fingers, the emptiness that was left after Eddie stopped you from coming. You sucked in a breath and pushed your ass out further, back arched real pretty, your cheek squished to the back cushion. Eddie stood behind you, godlike, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock free. He stroked it, rough and he get handed, the way you’d learned to touch him, eager, thick fingers pulling at the head until it turned pinker and pinker. 

“Tell me you want it.”

“No.” Your voice sounded small, wavering. 

You sounded like you were lying. 

Eddie laughed. “Still wanna play? Fine.”

Two hands palmed at your ass, skin warm and rings cool, the silver catching at your skin as he squeezed, pulling at your cheeks until they spread obscenely and Eddie groaned. He used his thumb to hook into your thong, pulling what little material there was away from your skin until he got to look at all of you. 

Spread all pretty, slick and wet and shining. A line of spit hit your ass, sliding warm to cool over your puckered hole until it trickled down, seeping into the seam of your cunt and you dripped with him. Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck it. It’s fine. 

It’s fine. 

Eddie hummed, enjoying the view, enjoying himself, enjoying you. His thumb brushed over your, making you jump in surprise, his soft laughter leaving you burning until you felt the head of his cock line up with your cunt, spreading your folds around his tip. He pushed, just slightly, enough for you to feel the beginning of the stretch and you whined, arching back more, eager. Desperate. 

“Say you want my cock.”

No niceties, no pet names. No affection. Just a power play. Eddie didn’t want a relationship. He wanted to win. 

“No.”

Another laugh, proud and amused and your stubbornness earned your another swift smack and this time you let the boy’s name fall from your lips a little louder. Eddie swore, moaning with you because his name coming from the back of your throat sounded like sex, like victory. So he tried again, a little sweeter. 

“C’mon, baby,” he cooed. He tugged at his cock, let it slide against the dean of you until he was as slick as you were. “Feels good, don’t it? You wanna feel me deep? You wanna feel me here, honey?” He let his hand tuck around you, palming over your tummy and you whined, nodding. 

Game over. 

Fuck it, it’s fine. It’s really fine. 

“Please,” you murmured, voice hoarse, head hazy. “Please, Teddy.”

And just like that, the playing field was evened out. The nickname made the boy crumble, a gasping, groaning sound tumbling from his mouth and he melted over you, his chest to your back, cock sliding in, a tight, hot wet stretch and suddenly you were full. 

You cried out, eyes snapping shut, jaw loose and head falling forward. Eddie caught you, one hand on your hip and the other sinking into your hair as he tugged you back up, a little mean, a little rough. But he brought your face to his, cheek to cheek as he cooed, murmuring pretty things about his pretty girl and it was all too much. 

It felt like the beginning. 

“Look at you, fuck,” he sounded gone, words stuttering out of him with every hard thrust and his hands were bruising, palming at your hips, your tummy, skating over the column of your throat until every part of you felt heated. “Who’s pussy is this? Huh? She’s fuckin’ made for me, sweetheart, so tight she doesn’t wanna let me go.”

His words made you come, like they always did, hot and filthy and possessive and murmured low in your ear. And then Eddie came too, hips jerking, groaning wild, curls falling down his back as he tipped his head and emptied himself inside of you. He liked to sweep his fingers through your folds after it, feeling himself dripping hot and slick out of your cunt. 

And then when you collected your clothes from the living room floor, Eddie was sitting shirtless on his couch as you dressed yourself, already rolling another joint. The lighter flickered, a blue-orange in the night they seemed so much darker and colder now Eddie had moved away from you. 

He hadn’t kissed you once, you realised, your lips lonely. He had blue glitter on his cheek, galactic freckles that matched yours. He was still dripping down the inside of your thighs when he raised his cell and asked you:

“D’you want me to call you a cab?” 

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

You know what I love? Flavour text on my items!

So here's some BG3 flavour text I found for Aylin's, Isobel's, and Ketheric's items, many of which are not lootable in-game - and some of which the characters themselves aren't seen wearing. I've had this lying around for a while, but now the toolset has given me a simple way to pluck out some neat "loot" visuals to go with the words. I'm going to list their names as they appear in the files, as well as include the non-unique descriptions some of them have (when they simply inherited from the template of another item of an appropriate type).

Aylin

Nightsong's Armour

Nightsong's armour is evocative of her personality - prickly, hardy, and about as agreeable as a clenched fist.

Nightsong Helmet

The Dame's resentment and anger toward Ketheric cannot be overstated. Still, her dreams rove sweeter corners, beyond the cruel hardwood floors of vengeance, the rooms of pain and discipline. Hers is a complex house, a house of the heart.

Nightsong Boots

Scratched in places, scorched in others, and worn thin at the heel, these boots bear the indelible marks of experience. (Metallic Boots default text)

Nightsong Gloves

Made from steel hammered thin, these gauntlets are a fine investment for any warrior. (Metallic Gloves default text)

Isobel

Moon Devotion Robe

A memory from her childhood: a warm bed. Through the cracked window, she could see the moonlight cupping the plums in the tree as if in silver hands. The name of the goddess Selûne came to her, and never left.

Isobel's Boots

Isobel's boots are haphazardly repaired, and have a humble snug fit for the wearer, snug as strong faith in the chest of a religious devotee.

Jhannyl's Gloves

(Left image is Isobel's actual visible gloves which don't have a "loot" equivalent, right is the visual for the ones that she actually has in her inventory)

Divine runes accentuate the finger pads. While not a religious sect, the Harpers do not demand the occlusion of religion in their members.

Isobel Headwear

She prayed for words and received silence. She prayed for intimacy and slept alone. She prayed for fruit and ate charcoal. She prayed for death and wanted to live. Then she grew older, and received things she'd wanted. Still she prayed.

Isobel's Circlet

Provides its wearer a touch of elegance but no additional protection. (Circlet default text)

Ketheric

Reaper's Embrace

Heavy steel bones and teeth enclose the armour's chest and neck like a grotesque exoskeleton that both swallows and protects the wearer.

Ketheric Circlet

Grants the wearer an austere presence, but no magical benefit. (Circlet default text)

Ketheric Circlet B

In his youth, Ketheric Thorm has the same puzzled, ever-curious brow belonging to any kid. Lamentable, that the brow this circlet adorned warped with tragedy and a sick determination over time.

Ketheric's Boots

Scratched in places, scorched in others, and worn thin at the heel, these boots bear the indelible marks of experience. (Metallic Boots default text)

Ketheric's Gloves

Not linked to any description and no "loot" visual I could find, but they're neat and have more little skeletons on them, so here they are.

Ketheric Cloak

Woven of heavy wool, this cloak is solid of make if somewhat stiff to wear. (Cloak default text)

Ketheric's Shield

In the theatre of dreams, Ketheric killed his wife every night. That wasn't how things happened... but always upon waking, he would glare into the dark, long-faced and solemn, and he would think: 'I keep you alive with my memories, beloved. I kill you with what I've become.'

Ketheric's Warhammer

This hammer's weight is centred on enchanted obsidian at the base of the head. Some nights before bed, Ketheric would sneak a whey-faced glance at the hammer, and think about the stone, and wonder what unknown facet of his heart bore his weight.