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seungkw1 · 7 months

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the truth is out there — csc

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader ♡ theme: x-files au ♡ wc: 8.2k ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: started rewatching the x-files recently and the idea of this popped into my head so i simply had to write it!! also, y/ln refers to ‘your last name’ bc ya know. agent stuff.

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

When you joined the FBI you didn’t expect to end up working in the basement with a peculiar agent obsessed with all things extraterrestrial, but your new assignment is certainly taking you places you’ve never been before.

10 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

taptaptap

The light knocking on your desk pulls your focus away from the almost-completed report on the screen of your monitor. Most would call report writing the boring part of the job, and while you don’t necessarily disagree your high levels of attentiveness allow you to efficiently plug away at the otherwise mind-numbing task - so, you don’t mind it so much. That is, unless you are interrupted.

“Hey Frenchie, the Bergmeister wants to see you.”

Stifling a sigh, you look up at your bothersome coworker, Soonyoung, who is currently leaning over your desk while eating a sandwich. You grimace as you see the multitude of crumbs he’s managed to drop all over your paperwork in the five seconds he’s been standing there.

“What does he want?” you ask, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

“Didn’t say,” he mumbles through the large bite he just stuffed into his mouth.

The Bergmeister is the inane moniker Soonyoung and his pals call your supervisor, Assistant Director Bergman, behind his back. Frenchie is the irritating nickname nearly half the office now calls you, to your face, due to an unfortunate incident involving French dressing and the light gray pantsuit you chose to wear on your very first day on the job. You figured they’d get tired of it after a few days, but that was several weeks ago at this point - and much to your chagrin it seems to have stuck.

You give Soonyoung a very obviously fake grin to accompany your obviously sarcastic response. “Thank you, Agent Soonyoung - helpful as always.”

Soonyoung winks at you. “For you? Anytime.” You imagine grabbing his sandwich and bopping it on his head.

The muted sounds of landlines ringing, keyboards clacking, and fax machines whirring drift past your ears as you walk steadily to Bergman’s office, maintaining a false air of confidence as to mask your anxiety. You’ve never been called into his office alone in the two months you’ve worked for the FBI - you quickly leaf through your mind for anything you’ve done that could be a potential mistake, but you come up empty handed.

Bergman’s door is ajar - you rap your knuckle against it twice as you step inside. He peers up at you through thick, round lenses.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes, come in, have a seat - and shut the door behind you.”

The heavy door closes with a deep thunk. As you lower yourself into the chair facing the desk you notice you’re joined by a man you’ve never seen before. He says nothing, but looms in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette.

“I’ll spare you the bullshit, Y/ln,” Bergman starts. He looks more tired than usual. “Have you heard of the bureau’s division known as the ‘x-files’?”

You feel your normally stoic face contort into a confused expression. Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“Well, yes, sir… but isn’t that an unofficial department?”

He takes a sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee. “Correct - it’s not official, but I assure you it is very much a ‘functional’ operation.” He all but rolls his eyes at functional.

You shoot a glance at the unintroduced man in the corner, but he remains expressionless. Bergman continues.

“I’m sure by now you’re well aware of the reputation surrounding this subsect and its…proprietor, shall we say.”

You give a single nod. By your second day in the office you’d heard all about the x-files: cases allegedly involving aliens, the supernatural, and all sorts of nonsense you chalked up to pure baloney. You’d also learned of the lone employee who spearheads the whole operation from the bureau basement: Agent Choi. Nobody seems to take him, or it, seriously - so much so that you had begun to doubt if it was even a real department, and if Choi even existed. But apparently, the rumors were true.

“I am not at liberty to discuss the reasons behind this decision,” Bergman tells you, “but all you need to know is that this assignment is significant in nature.”

Assignment?? Surely he doesn’t mean…

“I’m not sure I understand,” you ask hesitantly, “am I-”

“Being assigned to the x-files? Yes.”

Your stomach lurches. You open your mouth to inquire what exactly it is you’ve done wrong, but clearly he anticipated this exact response.

“This is not a punishment - though I certainly know why it might seem that way. But, it’s imperative that we receive reliable insight into the operations of this endeavor.”

You sit there in silence for a few seconds, dumbfounded. “So, you’re asking me to spy on Agent Choi.”

Bergman waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know how this sounds. And essentially - yes, you will be our eyes and ears into this otherwise elusive project. Choi will know we’re sending you there to report back to us, but we don’t care. We are confident you will succeed in providing us with useful information.”

You wait for him to go on, to elaborate in any capacity, but apparently he’s finished.

“Alright then, so when do I-”

“Immediately,” Bergman interjects. You purse your lips, trying to hide your displeasure.

“Yes sir,” you reply as respectfully as you can muster.

“Great. We’re counting on you, Y/ln.” You glance once more at the smoking man in the corner, but he remains silent.

“Dismissed.”

You walk out of Bergman’s office, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. You have the misfortune of passing Soonyoung’s desk on the way back to yours - he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something annoying again, but you briskly zoom past him before he can get a word out. You make a beeline for your desk, grabbing only your purse and coffee cup before heading toward the elevator.

X-files, here I come, I fucking guess.

—-

Your eyes take a few seconds to adjust as you step into the dim basement. The elevator doesn’t come down to this level - you spent a good ten minutes trying to locate the correct stairwell that would even bring you here. You make your way through a seemingly endless hallway of dusty filing cabinets, forgotten boxes, and broken computers before you find yourself in front of a nondescript door, not quite shut - the only thing signifying that you’ve arrived at your destination being the makeshift paper name plate with S. Choi written in ink. You raise your fist to knock but before you can do so you hear a voice call out from inside.

“Come in.”

You push the door in, its hinges giving you a high-pitched squeeeeak as it opens. You make a mental note to find some WD-40.

The sad excuse for an office is equally dim-lit as the hallway, but it’s a sight to behold: a desk at the center of the room - neat, but stacked with newspapers and case files, a small lamp lighting up the open file in the desk’s center; a bookshelf nearly reaching the ceiling, overflowing with books on seemingly every topic under the sun; archival boxes stacked as tall as the numerous filing cabinets, which are also topped with more boxes; a massive bulletin board filled with articles and photos; but most notably, pinned the wall, is a poster featuring a flying saucer, accompanied with the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.

In the bizarre room sits a dark-haired man typing at his computer, his back to you.

“I presume you heard me coming,” you state.

“From a mile away,” he replies, still typing.

You wait for him to turn around, say hello, anything - but the clickclack of his keyboard continues.

Several seconds pass, but the man says nothing. Apparently, it’s on you to break the silence.

You sigh under your breath. “I’m Agent Y/ln, I’ve been-”

“Assigned to the x-files to spy on me?” he interrupts, eyes still glued to the monitor.

“They told me you’d know that,” you admit.

The typing stops. Choi turns around, the heavy desk chair giving an unpleasant creak as he leans his elbow over its back, finally facing you. His appearance takes you by surprise: strong eyebrows, plump red lips, soft dark-brown eyes - you weren’t expecting to find such a handsome face attached to the man with a reputation for being a “crazy UFO freak”, in the words of your coworkers. He’s much younger than you anticipated too, around your age - and seemingly so… normal. His eyes do a quick scan of your figure - his expression barely changes, but a quick flash of interest tells you you’re not exactly what he expected either. It is extinguished almost immediately.

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” His tone is passive, but you detect a hint of somberness in his words. His warm eyes lock onto yours.

“Name’s Choi, but I’m sure you already knew that. You can call me Seungcheol, though.” If it was anyone else, you’d think it was flirtatious in nature - but you can tell that was not his intention.

“Okay. Well, Choi, what exactly am I to do here?”

An eager grin lights up his face. He rises from his chair, grabs a case file off the pile on his desk, and opens it - throwing it back down onto the desk, facing you.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

You quickly skim the details: a series of disappearances in a small town, all teenagers. So far, no bodies have been found. Local law enforcement has compiled a list of suspects, but they don’t seem to have many leads.

“Okay, so we have a potential serial killer.”

Choi shakes his head. “That’s what the local police think. Which seems reasonable, unless you’re familiar with the location.”

You glance back at the file. Spirit Lake, Iowa.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a known UFO hotspot. Sightings have been reported for decades, most notably in 1967 when there were three different sightings - one of which was caught on camera by two different witnesses.”

He hands you a stack of old polaroids. You flip through the grainy photographs, which all appear to showcase an ambiguous but distinct saucer-shaped object in the night sky.

You stare at your new partner. “Choi, this could be anything. Most so-called UFO ‘sightings’ are nothing more than aircraft that are very much from Earth.”

“The U.S. Weather Service officially stated that it was a weather balloon, however no weather balloons were launched within 500 miles that day. There were also no flights - civilian or military - on record for the area that night.”

“And have you considered that this could all just be a hoax?”

“Sure, it could be. But what if I told you that in 1967 there were also three recorded disappearances, all coinciding with the UFO sightings?”

He hands you a separate case file on the 1967 disappearances. All of the cases are closed, as the three who went missing eventually turned up again - unable to account for what happened to them, but otherwise unharmed.

You close the file, setting it on the desk. “So let me get this straight: you think these people were all abducted by aliens. And you think the exact same scenario is happening again, this year?”

“There have been three recent UFO sightings in the area reported, and we have three missing teens. It all matches up.”

You stand there in silence, at a loss for words. Guess everyone was right, you think to yourself. The man is insane.

“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” you finally respond. “How exactly are we supposed to contribute here? Looks like they’ve already exhausted all leads. Why the hell do we need to fly out to Iowa?”

Choi gives a knowing smile. “They found the first girl this morning. Alive. Barely remembers anything, but unharmed.”

“And you want to go catch some little green men.”

“Actually, ‘little green men’ is a misconception - known encounters have widely reported extraterrestrials to be gray-skinned and not that much smaller than us. But anyway, more or less - yes, we’ll be in search of evidence that alien life is making contact with humanity.”

You stand there in disbelief. So this is where you’ve ended up - in the basement with a madman on a wild goose chase. As you’re thinking about quitting on the spot, Choi goes back to his computer.

“Anyway I’ll get us booked for the first flight out of here tomorrow morning,” he informs as he resumes his typing. “Want me to pick you up?

“No, that’s quite alright.”

“Suit yourself.”

You wait for him to say something further, but he doesn’t. You turn to leave. As you approach the doorway you hear the creaking of his chair once more. Looking back, Choi is facing you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Agent Y/ln.”

His expression is sincere. You may be stuck with a madman, but at least he’s not a complete asshole.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You feel Choi’s eyes follow you as you exit the room.

—

11 September 1993 Spirit Lake, Iowa

The gravel driveway crunches loudly as the rental car slows to a stop. Your partner shuts off the ignition and turns to face you, his left hand still resting on the wheel.

“Ready?”

You glare back at him. “You’re acting like this is my first case, Choi. I’ve done this before.”

You open your door and exit the car before he can reply. You’ve barely gotten started on this investigation, but he’s already on your nerves.

You approach the cottage-style house and ring the bell. A disgruntled-looking woman in her 40s opens the door.

“Mrs. Miller? I’m Agent Choi, and this is my partner Agent Y/ln.” You both raise your badges. “We’re here to speak with Alexandra, may we come inside?”

Mrs. Miller practically scowls at you. “She’s already spoken to the cops three times, leave us alone.” The door slams shut in your face.

You and Choi shoot a look at each other. You hear a voice shouting inside, followed by loud arguing. The door reopens to a young girl, high-school age, with jet black dyed hair, heavy eyeliner, and a nose ring.

“Ignore my mom, she’s a huge bitch,” the girl says as she steps outside, slamming the door behind her. She marches past you. “I’ll talk to you, let’s walk.”

Choi raises his eyebrows at you as he turns to follow the girl. You join him.

“You must be Alexandra,” he says to the girl, who is still walking.

“Alex,” she corrects. The girl finally stops, turning around to face you. “Are you going to take me seriously or are you just going to laugh in my face like the cops did?”

“I believe you,” your partner assures her.

The girl turns to you, arms crossed. “I take it you’re the skeptic then?” Before you can respond she continues. “Trust me, I am too. I’ve always heard all the stories growing up about the abductions in this town, but I thought it was all bullshit. But I don’t know how else to explain what happened to me.”

“Can you start from the beginning?” Choi asks.

The girl sighs. “Yeah, sure. I was driving home from my friend Becky’s house, by myself. It was pretty late, like around 9pm. I was on Campbell Road, I had just passed the old schoolhouse. It was dark as shit and nobody else was around. Then suddenly there was this crazy bright light, it was all around me and I couldn’t see anything. I remember slamming on my breaks, but I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know how long I was out, but I do remember waking up a few times and I swear I was in some like laboratory or something. I was laying down but I couldn’t move - I could just barely make out some figures standing over me. Then, next thing I know I’m walking down the road again, right where I was driving. No fucking clue how I got there. A deputy found me and took me to the hospital. They told me I was gone for six days. I had to talk to the cops like a hundred times, but there was nothing else wrong with me so they sent me home. And now everybody thinks I’m fucking crazy.”

“Nobody believes you, then,” your partner empathizes.

“The cops think I’m lying and that I ran off with my ‘boyfriend’ for a week,” she scoffs. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. But of course that’s what my mom believes now, so now I’m fucking grounded.”

“I’m sorry,” Choi tells her sincerely.

“Do you have any connections to the others who have gone missing?” you ask.

Alex shrugs. “I mean, we all go to school with each other, but I don’t really know them.”

Choi finds a piece of paper and a pen in his jacket pocket and scribbles something on it, then hands it to the girl.

“This is where we’re staying, if you remember anything else give us a call.”

On the drive back, Choi appears to make a wrong turn.

“You were supposed to go left,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “I want to check out the location where Alex was taken from.”

“Why?” you ask, “There’s nothing there. When they found the car they towed it.”

“Just want to check it out.”

You can tell you’re not going to get any further answers out of him, so you just sit there in silence, listening to whatever is on the local radio playing quietly in the background. Your stomach starts to rumble, so you glance at the clock: 4:54pm. No wonder, you think to yourself. You hadn’t stopped for lunch, so you were well overdue for a meal. You made a mental note to look out for restaurants on the way back.

“There’s the schoolhouse,” Choi points out a few minutes later. “We must be close.”

The sound of static fills the car as the radio cuts out. You fiddle with the knob, trying to find something else, but nothing is coming in. Guess we’re out of range.

Suddenly, the car goes silent as the engine dies. You’ve barely rolled to a stop when your partner jumps out of the car and starts running back the way you came.

“Where the hell are you going??” you shout after him. No response. With a sigh you exit the car as well. You see him standing in the road, looking at the ground. He turns as he hears you coming, pointing down to the road.

“See the tire marks? This must be where Alex hit the brakes.”

You look at the ground to see the black marks, indicating a car had braked abruptly.

“Our car shut off right as we passed this exact spot,” he says excitedly, jogging back to the rental car. As you follow, you hear him trying the ignition a few times, until the car finally turns back on.

“Look,” he commands as you re-enter the passenger seat. He points to the digital clock on the dashboard: 5:11pm. “What time do you have?”

You glance at your watch: 4:56pm.

“Many instances of alien activity result in residual electromagnetic fields. It’s often been reported that those visiting such sites will experience ‘missing time’, a phenomenon we appear to have just experienced.”

The look on his face is energized - borderline excited. You stare back at him, unenthused.

“Choi, just because my watch is wrong doesn’t mean we time traveled.”

“Then why did the car turn off in this exact spot?”

“It’s a machine, cars malfunction sometimes,” you respond, nearly exasperated. “You’re trying to connect dots that aren’t even here.”

“These events happening in tandem indicate that something abnormal is going on here, Y/ln. You’re choosing to ignore substantial evidence.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, holding your head in your hands.

Choi shifts the car into drive and makes a u-turn. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said all day.”

He smiles, but says nothing.

On the drive back into town, you subtly watch him out of the corner of your eye. He drives in silence, but you can tell he’s deep in thought - about what, who knows. Despite his ridiculous antics and asinine beliefs, you admit that his passion is oddly inspiring. You find yourself starting to grow fond of your new partner for some strange, inexplicable reason.

You push that thought to the back of your mind.

—

13 September 1993

“Can you hand me the Ramos case file?”

You look around for the requested file, to no avail. You joined Choi in his motel room early in the morning to review case files, which is proving to be incredibly difficult as he is apparently one to haphazardly leave shit all over the room while he is working.

You finally locate the folder and toss it over to him. “You know, this might be easier if the entire place wasn’t an absolute disaster zone.”

“I like to call it organized chaos,” he says proudly.

It has been six days since the second kid, Mark Ramos, disappeared - and Choi is convinced that he’ll be “returned” today, given that Alex was found after the same amount of time. So, much to your displeasure he planned for you two to stake out the location where he was last seen: the parking lot of the gas station corner store where the boy works.

“Wow, that sounds enthralling,” you told him, deeply sarcastically.

As you are wrapping up prepping for the stakeout, the landline on the nightstand rings.

Your partner reaches and grabs the phone, stretching the cord across the room and placing the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he continues working.

“Choi,” he answers curtly.

You hear a muffled voice on the other end utter a few sentences before he stops what he’s doing. A tired look washes over his face.

“God fucking dammit. Alright, thanks.” He slams the phone back onto the base.

“They just found the kid. We missed it.”

You’re secretly relieved that you don’t have to go sit in a car for hours now, but you keep that to yourself. He’s clearly peeved, and although you’ve never witnessed his bad side you’re discerning enough to know that you don’t want to be on it.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally.

To your surprise, he walks over to the bed - where you’re sitting - and plops down onto it, holding his head in his hands.

You sit there awkwardly in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to do.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask.

Your partner sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just thought we had this one.”

You feel the urge to ask the question that’s been on the back of your mind since you met him, but he seems really dejected - and you don’t want to upset him. Fuck it, you decide.

“Can I ask you something?”

He lifts his head up, resting his chin on his interlaced hands as he looks over at you.

“Sure,” he answers. You find yourself starting to get lost in his big brown eyes, but you force yourself to snap out of it.

“Why are you so obsessed with aliens? I mean - it seems like more than just an interest for you. It seems… personal, almost.”

Choi exhales, closing his eyes. He sits up, leaning back onto his hands, staring into the distance with a sense of sadness in his expression.

“When I was 12, my younger brother and I were very close. We were three years apart, but we had so much in common.

He pauses, lost in thought for a moment. He continues.

“Jinsang and I always shared a bedroom. We had a bunk bed, he slept on the top bunk.” He smiles wistfully. “He loved it up there. Always called himself ‘king of the world’. Even as he got older, he never lost his childlike wonder. He was the definition of pure at heart.”

You listen solemnly. You honestly were expecting some off-the-wall answer from him - you didn’t anticipate that it’d be anything so serious.

“Late one night, I was supposed to be asleep, but I was reading a book under the covers with my flashlight. Suddenly there was a blinding light that filled the room, and a deafeningly loud whirring noise that made me cover my ears. I pulled the blanket off me, but the only thing I could make out was some dark figures standing in the room. I couldn’t see who it was, so I assumed it was my parents. I called out for them, but the figures didn’t move. It was so loud and so bright. I was terrified.

Then - I heard my brother scream. He was screaming for help, but I was paralyzed. Suddenly everything stopped. The light and the sounds disappeared in an instant. I looked where the figures were standing, but nobody was there. I didn’t hear my brother anymore either. I jumped out of bed to check on him - but he wasn’t in his bed. I started to panic. I told myself maybe he had run out of the room, but I knew I didn’t see or hear him climb down. I ran to my parents crying, ‘Jinsang’s gone!’ They searched the house, but he wasn’t there. They searched the neighborhood, thinking he had run away, but he wasn’t anywhere. The police investigation went on for months. They never found him.”

He rests his head back on his hands. You sit there silently, not knowing what to say. Your mind races, trying to process his words: So, he believes his brother was abducted by aliens? He may be strange, but he’s not mentally disturbed, I really don’t believe he would just make something like that up… But what can the explanation be? Is it a false memory created as a trauma response to his brother disappearing?...

“I’m so sorry,” you finally tell him. Without thinking you place your hand on his shoulder - but after a moment you realize how awkward that might be. He’s your assigned work partner - you met him three days ago. But, you feel his tension slightly ease - your touch seems to be relaxing him. Choi lets out a deep exhale and sits up - you quickly drop your hand back to your side. He rests his palms on the bed, just barely grazing your pinky finger. You hold your breath as a spark of electricity rushes through your body - you ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says sincerely. “I know how it sounds to other people. But that’s why I get so invested in these cases. I have to know the truth, Y/ln.”

You sit in silence for a few moments.

“Well,” you finally speak as you get up, returning to the scattered files, “if your theory is correct we have one last chance.”

Choi perks up, a surprised look on his face. He stares at you for a moment, then grins as he processes what you just said. You grin back at him.

“Let’s go catch these sons of bitches.”

— 14 September 1993

Your stakeout plans are back on - this time you’ll be surveilling in the middle of the woods, by the lake, where the third kid had disappeared when camping with friends. Choi wakes you unnecessarily early with rapid knocking on your door. You answer in your pajamas, half asleep still. He invites himself into your room as he brushes past you and slams more files on the table. Turning to you earnestly, he begins to recant the game plan.

“Choi,” you interrupt, trying to shut him up. He doesn’t hear you. He rambles on - practically bouncing with excitement.

“Choi,” you repeat, this time louder. He stops, his round eyes animated with enthusiasm.

“Yeah?”

“It’s 6:30 in the morning. We’re staking out the location tonight.”

“And?”

“You could’ve at least let me sleep in til 7.”

“No time to lose!” he says eagerly as he turns back to his work, picking up where he left off. You let him yap for a minute before interrupting him once more.

“Can I at least get some coffee first?”

You head to the nearby shitty diner together, Choi of course working through breakfast. You can tell through his excited state that he’s on edge. This has to go right - it is, according to him, the best chance he’s ever had. You spend the day going over everything, reviewing every last little detail - cooperating with whatever he needs, whether it be tactical or simply supportive. Before you know it the sun starts to go down, and you’re on your way to the middle of fucking nowhere together, to find some aliens.

Choi parks the car on the rocky path near the shore, killing the engine. It’s quiet out here - peaceful. The lake is bigger than you expected, and surprisingly beautiful as it reflects the painted colors of the sun-setting sky.

“Romantic, isn’t it?”

You turn and look at your partner, intending to make some snide remark, but all thoughts in your mind vanish when you see him. The golden tones of the dusk sunrays bring out a beautiful glow in his skin, his brown eyes radiating in the light; you knew he was good-looking, but seeing him this close - he is absolutely stunning.

The logical part of your brain starts setting off alarms - you know you should be feeling uncomfortable in the intimacy of the whole situation (he’s your coworker for gods’ sake!!) but it couldn’t be more opposite. The other part of your brain simply has the urge to lean in and kiss him.

“Mhmm, sure,” you reply, feigning sarcasm, veiling your true feelings.

You chat informally with Choi (“You can call me Seungcheol,” the memory of his words flashes through your mind), conversation flowing naturally as you both talk about whatever comes to mind. You find yourself laughing more often than not, and you find yourself relating to your partner more than you ever anticipated. It’s easy being with him.

Logical brain is absolutely screaming at you right now. There’s no fucking way you can allow yourself to develop feelings for your work partner - you know this.

I’m allowed to like him as a friend, you say to yourself. You’re gonna be working with him for god knows how long, of course you need to get along. But you’re not convinced.

Conversation wanes into the night as darkness falls over the lake. You feel your eyelids grow heavy. Choi notices.

“You can sleep if you want,” he tells you. “I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him. But it’s quiet, dark - and soon you feel yourself beginning to drift off.

VRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

You jolt awake, instantly blinded by the overpowering light surrounding you. A deafening booming noise permeates the air - you don’t know what it is, but it sounds like the rumbling of a thousand jet engines.

You can’t see shit, but you can tell Choi isn’t in the car. You heave open the passenger door, straining to push it open against the rush of wind engulfing the vehicle. Once your eyes adjust somewhat you find your partner about 15 feet away, camera in hand. You look up, but you can’t make out the massive object hovering over the lake - all you can see is five giant blinding spheres of light in the sky.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?” you scream to your partner - but he doesn’t hear you.

Suddenly, everything stops.

The lights, sound, and wind disappear in an instant. Disoriented in the dark, you stumble over to where Choi was standing, but you realize he’s gone - your eyes adjust and you see him sprinting down the lakeshore. In the distance you see another figure, laying on the ground. Choi approaches the figure, kneeling down next to it. You head toward them, but he turns to you and shouts from afar.

“CALL FOR BACKUP!!”

—

The figure on the beach indeed had been the missing boy. The ambulance rushed him to the hospital - but just as the previous two missing kids, he was okay. The next day you and Choi were able to get in and talk to him briefly before being shooed out by the nurse. It was the same story as the others - he didn’t remember anything, but he was completely unharmed.

Three out of three missing people now returned, safe and alive - your business here is done. You can finally get the fuck out of Iowa.

You’re pretty thrilled about leaving, but Choi is ecstatic. You remind him neither of you actually solved anything, but he doesn’t care. He got his photos of whatever the fuck was above the lake that night - it doesn’t answer all of his questions, but nevertheless he got what he came for.

It’s dark by the time you depart from the hospital, driving back to go pack up your things so you can leave first thing in the morning.

Choi parks the car, and you walk back to your rooms. As you approach the motel, he suddenly swings his arm out in front of you to stop you - the door to your room is slightly ajar, the lock broken. Choi draws his gun, and you follow suit. Holding up his fingers, he silently counts down from three. He bursts through the door, sweeping the room. You follow, turning on the light to see the entire room has been utterly ransacked - the contents of your suitcase as well as all the files from your briefcase are strewn everywhere.

Choi pops out of the bathroom. “All clear, but the bathroom window is open - if they were just here, they still might be nearby.” He sprints out of the room, pausing briefly and motioning for you to wait. “You stay here, I’ll sweep the area.” He’s gone in a flash.

You turn around and grimace at the absolute mess left behind by whoever the fuck was here. With a sigh you begin to clean up the mess, starting by gathering all the documents. As you sort through them all to put them back in some sort of order, you note that everything seems to be there. Your personal belongings all seem to be accounted for as well. Whatever they were searching for, they clearly didn’t find it.

Choi reappears in your room, sweating and breathing heavily. He shakes his head in disappointment. “Nobody in sight. Asked the manager if he saw anything suspicious, but he clearly didn’t know shit.”

He removes his suit jacket and throws it on the table before plopping down in the singular chair. He runs his hand through his sweaty hair as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Anything missing?”

You shake your head. “Not a single thing.”

“Shit,” Choi mumbles under his breath. “They were probably looking for my room.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Who-”

He waves his hand at you, interrupting. “Don’t worry about it.”

You are worried about it, but you know he’s not going to elaborate even if pressed.

“Okay. Well, I want to shower and go to sleep, so kindly get the fuck out.” Your tone isn’t angry, you’re just exhausted.

Choi gets up, but instead of leaving he deadbolts the door and returns to his seat.

“Absolutely not, what if they come back? I’ll keep watch.”

You give him the most exasperated look. “Are you shitting me? I don’t need you to keep guard, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not taking that chance,” he insists as he crosses his arms.

You’re stubborn as hell, but in the short time you’ve known Seungcheol Choi he’s done nothing but give you a run for your money in that department.

You roll your eyes. You’re too tired to argue with him. “Fine, whatever. Just give me some privacy, alright?”

Choi salutes you as he turns his chair around. “Roger that.”

You shower and make your way back to your bed. Choi is still sitting in the chair, facing the locked door, his gun and holster sitting on the table right next to him.

“Are you going to be able to sleep in that chair?” you ask. “Looks uncomfortable.”

Without turning, he replies. “I won’t be sleeping.”

“Seriously? You don’t need to stay up all night just to-”

“I’m not sleeping, Y/ln, it’s not up for debate.”

You stare at the back of his head. Sighing, you pull the covers up and go to turn off the lamp, but you pause.

“Choi?” you call out in a soft voice.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He turns his head ever so slightly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Goodnight, Y/ln.”

With a swift click you pull the chain on the lamp, and the room is flooded in darkness. As your eyes adjust, the moonlight seeps in past the closed blinds, and you can just make out Choi’s shadow as he keeps watch. Protecting you.

Within seconds, you are fast asleep.

—

You open your eyes, the bright early morning sun rays peeking in through the window. You lay there, contemplating going back to sleep, when you remember the events of last night. You sit up abruptly to see your partner still in the chair, still facing the door, awake.

“Did you really stay up the whole night?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Choi turns around, his eyes tired but still alert. He nods.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? Very quietly - it’s cute.”

“Oh, shut up” you grumble as you get out of bed.

Choi rises and grabs his jacket before heading toward the door. “Get ready, we have to be at the airport in an hour.” The door shuts behind him before you can respond with something snarky.

As you make your way to the parked car with your suitcase, you see your partner waiting for you - zoned out in the driver’s seat.

You yank the driver’s side door open, startling him as he nearly jumps out of his seat.

“Absolutely not,” you tell him sternly. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, I’m driving.”

“I’m fine, Y/n.”

You go to yell at him when you pause, realizing he just called you by your first name for the first time. He must be delirious, you think to yourself.

“No, you’re not. And I’d like to make it back home in one piece, thank you.”

“Y/n-”

“Seungcheol Choi get your dumb ass out of the fucking car NOW.”

The expression that washes over his face looks like that of a scolded puppy. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to shout at him.

“Okay, okay! Fine, you win.” He gets out of the car, walking around to the passenger side. As he opens the door he looks at you, trying to conceal the grin spreading across his face, but failing.

“I like you like this. You should yell at me more often.”

You stare at him, exhausted. “You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told,” he says with a wink as he disappears into the car.

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time this week. After a few deep breaths, you reluctantly join your partner in the car.

“And since when do you call me by my first name?” you inquire as you turn the ignition. The car engine comes to life with a rumble.

Choi looks at you, his eyelids heavy. He gives you a sleepy smile as you back out of the parking space.

“I told you you can call me Seungcheol,” he reminds you.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He gives no response, but shrugs, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. You stare at him for a brief moment. His black curls lay unruly against his forehead, brushing against his long eyelashes. A faint shadow graces his jawline - the result of not having shaved today. The top few buttons of his shirt remain undone; he didn’t even bother with a tie. Once again, you find yourself stunned by how handsome he is. You push that thought away as your attention returns to operating the vehicle. You shift gears and pull out of the lot.

“Take a nap, dummy,” you tell him softly.

—

Not five minutes have passed into your drive before the sound of gentle snoring greets your right ear. You glance over to see Choi positively zonked out in the passenger seat. A grin involuntarily appears on your face - he may be a headstrong pain in the ass, but even the toughest agents eventually fall victim to the cursed necessity of sleep.

The “highway” out of town toward the airport is nothing more than a vacant country road. You drive for at least fifteen minutes without seeing a single other car. In the absence of Choi yammering on about some off-kilter conspiracy theory, or recounting a tale of a previous case that seems too fantastical to be true, your mind starts to wander. The events of the past week replay in your head. Unlike your partner you don’t quite believe you saw an alien spaceship, but whatever it was certainly is making you question a lot of things.

Your musings are cut short when Choi suddenly jolts awake, nearly making you jump.

“Jesus, Choi, you scared me.”

He blinks dully a few times, the gears in his head creaking back to life as he tries to reorient himself. After a brief moment of mild panic he regains lucidity, slumping back into his seat with a groan. He yawns as he rubs his eyes.

“Sorry,” he responds drowsily.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? It’s cute,” you jest, repeating his words from earlier back to him. After a moment, he realizes.

“Fuck off,” he mumbles - but out of the corner of your eye you see him grin.

You turn the radio on low volume, tuning into the rock station the dial was already set on. A few minutes pass without words, the crooning voice of Mick Jagger supplementing the conversation. Suddenly, Choi perks up, looking in the rear view mirror before turning around to peer out the back window. You glance in the mirror to see a dark car in the distance.

“Finally, some sign of life,” you remark. “I was beginning to think we’d entered The Twilight Zone or something.”

Choi says nothing, but you notice the concern on his face. I wish he would stop being so paranoid, you think to yourself. He turns back around but keeps his eye on the mirror. Not even a minute later he snaps his head back to look out the rear window again.

“Shit,” he exclaims, his voice disgruntled.

You look in the mirror again to see the same car, rapidly approaching as it speeds toward you. Your eyes dart forward again, only to see another dark car up ahead - parked in the middle of the two-lane road, creating a blockade.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Choi, can you please enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on,” you ask nervously.

“Fucking SHIT,” he shouts, not elaborating.

“CHOI.”

“Stop the car,” he gripes, his head in his hands.

You apply the brakes, as you couldn’t keep going even if you wanted to. The car ahead is blocking the whole road, and the trees on either side are preventing you from being able to swerve around it.

The car following you parks, also blocking the road behind you. Two men in dark suits emerge from each car and casually surround the rental. One of them, from the car in front, walks over to the passenger side of your rental - he knocks on the glass twice.

“Get out of the car.”

Choi unbuckles his seatbelt, taking his time, before reaching for the door handle. He pulls the latch and opens the door slowly.

“Both of you.”

Your partner turns to you. “Do what they say,” he says quietly.

You follow the mystery man’s orders. It’s early, but the sun already stings your skin as you step out of the car.

You look at the men, trying to get some sense as to who they are, but you’ve never seen any of them before - you presume they would have nothing on themselves that would give any sort of identification anyway. The men’s guns remain in their holsters, but their hands rest on the frames. You don’t doubt that they would shoot you in a heartbeat if you made any funny moves.

“Open the trunk,” the same man orders to neither of you in particular. His tone is stern, but not overly aggressive.

You make eye contact with your partner. He gives you a slight nod.

You take the keys from the ignition and walk to the rear, inserting them in the lock and turning the key. The trunk lid gives a loud clunk as it pops open. The man signals to the two men that came up from behind you - they approach the trunk, pushing you out of the way as they open it. Choi’s hands clench into a fist, but he doesn’t move.

The men carelessly rummage through the trunk’s contents until they find what they were apparently looking for: Choi’s camera bag. The man opens it and pulls out the chunky Nikon, removing its film.

“Hey, be careful with that!” Choi shouts angrily.

Once the other man finishes fishes out the remaining film canisters from the bag, they put the camera back. They signal to the ringleader - he nods. The other men immediately return to their car.

The man in charge claps his hand onto Choi’s shoulder forcefully.

“Thank you, Agents Choi and Y/ln - very much for your cooperation,” he says smugly. Choi shoves the man’s hand off his shoulder, teeth clenched. Without another word, the man heads back to his car.

“You won’t get away with this forever,” Choi shouts after him.

The man keeps walking. He doesn’t even turn his head as he replies mockingly.

“Keep up the good work, Agent Choi.”

You watch the cocky bastard enter the driver’s seat - both cars immediately take off. It was over as quickly as it had begun.

You know Choi is infuriated, but more than anything he looks absolutely dejected. He leans onto the car, his head resting on his arm in defeat.

“Who were those men?” you ask him quietly - but you suspect he doesn’t know either.

He takes a few moments before he lifts his head, resuming his posture. His saddened eyes lock with yours.

“They’re the sons of bitches who make sure nobody knows the truth. Lying to the public, hiding information even from us - destroying all evidence that UFOs exist.”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I really thought I had it this time. Turns out, I was just really fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” you tell him firmly. Softer, you add, “And I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you about… well, everything I guess.”

He laughs softly. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I’m the crazy alien guy in the basement, after all.”

He nudges you with his elbow, his voice friendly. “You know, you’re alright Agent Y/ln.”

You smile. “You’re alright too, Seungcheol.”

His face lights up at the sound of his first name. He smiles back at you warmly.

“Now, let’s actually get the fuck out of Iowa,” he says with vigor.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

—

20 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Have a seat, Agent Y/ln.”

You sit in the sturdy oak chair across from the Assistant Director’s desk. You are, once again, joined by the nameless man - smoking his cigarette silently in the corner of the room.

“I read your report on the Iowa case,” Bergman tells you as he flips through the open file on his desk.

You wait for him to continue.

“It is certainly… of lower quality than your usual work.”

You hide a grimace. “What exactly was the problem with it, sir? I was very thorough.”

He gives you a tired look. “Yes, of course - but the report itself is not what I take issue with. What I take issue with is its contents. I assigned you to the x-files as a voice of reason - to rein in Agent Choi, not perpetuate his outlandish theories.

“With all due respect, sir, I followed standard protocol. My report gives no indication that I agree with Agent Choi’s conviction that what we saw was indeed a UFO, and that the government is responsible for some larger conspiracy - I simply detailed everything that I witnessed in Spirit Lake objectively as I experienced it.”

Bergman sighs before closing the file. “Alright, Agent Y/ln. You do good work. But next time, maybe try to prevent your partner from chasing after little green men.”

“They’re supposedly gray, actually. According to Agent Choi,” you inform him matter-of-factly.

Bergman stares at you, incredulous. He opens his mouth to say something, but gives up. He waves you out of his office.

“Dismissed.”

[to be continued…]

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#fic teaser #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fics #svt fics #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #s coups #choi seungcheol #scoups #s coups x reader #scoups x reader #scoups imagines #scoups fics #choi seungcheol x reader

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b4tracha · 10 months

Text

Dressing Rooms (S.CB x M! Reader)

Dom! Seo Changbin x Sub!Male! Reader

(Reader will have a penis in this. I hope everyone enjoys and I am sorry for not posting as often. Exams will be over the first full week of December so I will be posting more afterward <3)

You have been an employee of JYP Entertainment for the past year, and it was almost unbelievable how kind everyone is. When you first got into the industry, people would warn you about how the people in different companies would treat staff. However, none of your higher-ups or idols made you feel that way.

Your first group was Itzy, but they decided to switch you to Stray Kids for 5-star and Rock-Star. The members treated you almost like another member in the short time you have known each other. You were also a young man, a mere 00 liner, and trying to work in hard environments.

Since you met the group, they would invite you out and you got especially close to a certain member. Changbin, for once, was taller than someone and he would tease you while making sure you were fine with it. He would cuddle and flirt with you no matter how bashful you got. Honestly, he got worse when you more embarrassed.

Somewhere in September, you both started to hook up. While drunk, he confessed that he realize he liked men a while ago, but was never had the chance to hook up with one. You suggested, just as drunk, that maybe you didn’t mind hooking up with him. It didn’t happen then but once you both were sober, you guys finally became friends with benefits.

You couldn’t hook up as often, but when it did happen..

He always blew your mind.

“Y/N~” A voice whined behind you. It would be Changbin who messed up his outfit about twenty minutes before they went on.

You were trying to make sure their outfits were put on correctly and wouldn’t fall apart on stage. That happened too often because of how energetic they are and you didn’t want it to happen again. You have already fixed Lee Know’s shirt at least twice.

“Yes, hyung?” You turned from your small inspections, nearly running into Changbin. You both were nearly chest to chest with how close you were. “Oh, Binnie-hyung- Sorry, I didn’t know you were right behind me..”

You pulled back and Changbin simply kept smiling at you, shrugging before going back to whining, “There’s something wrong with my pants~” You sighed and went to look before he grabbed your hand and whispered in your ear. “Needs to be in a private room. The noonas shouldn’t see this.”

Of course.

You grabbed your supplies just in case there was a tear or something to patch up and guided the older man to an empty dressing room. He locked the door behind him just incase and you bent over and sat everything down and set everything in their right place.

Suddenly you felt a hand rubbing your ass. You were used to this from Lee Know, so you rolled your eyes and went about your work before you felt his hands grab your waist and brush something hard right on your ass. You froze, trying to figure out what was going on and slowly turned your head.

“Here..?” You whispered. He has always had a thing for trying to hook up in public places. There were time where you both would go out to eat and would suck him off in the bathroom, but it was never at work. Though, you were wearing a plug for later. Changbin suggested to go out after their pre-recording and you didn’t have time to go home, you fingered yourself open just incase he wanted to do something.

“Yeah.. I have too much adrenaline, prince.” You shivered. You loved when he called you that. His cock was only chubbing up more as he grinded against your clothed butt. “I need a release.”

He bent down across your back and whispered once again in your ear, “I can feel the plug inside of you anyways. How about you give Sir what you want?”

You whimpered, hands shaking at the thought. Your head was already spin and you were just being dry humped. “Okay..”

He chuckled and smacked your ass before pulling away. You both knew you didn’t have enough time to do anything special, so you simply unbuttoned your pants and pulled down your pants and boxers. Your small cock was starting to get hard as well as you spit and started to jerk yourself off slowly.

“Good boy.” He hummed before smacking your ass. It wasn’t hard or that loud but the action made you moan. Changbin grabbed your ass aggressively before speading your cheeks apart and looking at the delight that he’s been thinking about almost all day. “Plug looks delicious in your hole, prince. You should wear them more often for me.”

“Yes sir.” The words slipped from your lips easily. It was always easy to submit to Changbin. The male teased your hole, pulling out the plug mid-way before pushing it back inside. You bit your lip aggressively trying not to be too loud. As much as it felt good, you didn’t want to lose your job. Your legs started to shake below you, but he just wrapped his strong arms around you and held you up to take the torture.

“You’re sucking it in like a little slut. You love having something in your hole all the time, hm?” He groaned at the sight. He licked his lips and finally pulled it out. Your ass clenched over nothing, wet and slick for something bigger to fill it. He guided you to a dresser and bent you over. You glanced up at the mirror infront of you, watching the tears in your eyes and hunger in Changbin’s right behind you. “Are you ready?”

“Yes Sir.. I’m ready for you to fuck me..” You whimpered and shook your hips in hopes he would hurry up and get inside of you already. He removed the hair from his eyes and pulled something from his pocket. He showed you in the mirror as if you should know what it was.

You turned and noticed it was lube. Fuck, you were so needy that you forgot you needed that. Even if you used extra earlier, you still needed more right now. He unzipped his pants and pulled them and his boxers down just at his thigh so he wouldn’t get anything on his pants. His cock was standing at attention, rock hard, red, angry and leaking. Changbin opened the bottle of lube and squirted the substance on his fingers before caressing it on his cock.

You took your hands spread yourself apart to help the male behind you and whined at him through the mirror. “Please sir, I need your cock. Breed me?”

Changbin groaned at the words, eyes rolling back. He blinked back before adjust your position and pushing inside slowly. The stretch was slight painful, but it felt so good in a masochistic type of way. The older man sunk inside until his balls touched your thighs, all the way inside. “Fuck you’re tight, prince. Tell me when you’re ready.”

Your eyes were clouded with tears, shaking at the feeling of him splitting you open so good. You didn’t need time to adjust, you needed him to fuck you stupid. “Fuck me. Please, sir..” Your voice shook heavily as the spit in your mouth poured from your mouth down your chin.

The man chuckled and grabbed your hips tightly to the point where you’re probably going to see bruises later and slowly pulled out almost all the way before slamming back inside.

You both moaned out in sync before he started up his rhythm. It was hard and rough, causing your body to jerk each time he pushed back inside. You could only whimper and whine with your teeth biting down into your lip in fear you would scream from the constant thrusts. From the start he was hitting your prostate one thrust after another. It usually took your other hookups a short bit to find yours, but from the first time Changbin found it almost immediately.

“Shit.. you’re clenching all around me. You must want me to cum deep inside you, hm?” His words were like waves, moving in and out of your ears. You could barely understand what he was saying to you. Once you process the words, you immediately whined loudly and nodded quickly. You needed his cum so bad. You wanted it in your stomach so bad..

“Sir.. please..” You whispered hoarsely, hoping Changbin could understand what you were saying to him. Your stomach was starting to tighten hard to the point it almost hurt. You started to reach your peak already. It wasn’t a surprise, he usually pushed you past overstimulation until he would finally cum. It wasn’t uncommon where he would pull two or three orgasms from you before he came himself. “I’m so close.. I need to cum..”

“Already? Of course, that’s so pathetic.” He spit at you, knowing you loved the slight degradation whilst sneaking his hand under you to start jerking you off to help. “Luckily for you, I am close too. I’m going to cum too. Going to breed you, Y/N..”

“Please..” You begged, legs shaking and drooling down your chin and chest until it hit the dresser. He went quiet behind you, trying to focus on his thrusts and hurrying up. You both already took too long and you’d need time to clean up after this. You more than him, however.

He flicked his thumb over your sensitive tip during a certain hard thrust and you jerked under him, feeling that feeling in your stomach suddenly snap. A long, soft moan poured from your lips as you finally came. Your cum filled his hand as your ass clenched around his cock aggressively. The feeling of you squeezing him gave him just the right amount of pleasure to finally flood inside you.

His hips snapped inside of you, cock letting stream after stream leak inside. Deep breaths filled the air from you both. It was hard to catch your breath when everything was still so hot. He grunted at the feeling of his softenign dick still being clenched around. He slowly pulled out and grabbed a cloth and soap that was near one of the sinks and wiped himself down as best as he could. He could hope he was decent enough to be let on stage.

Once he was situated with his pants up and stainless, he wiped you down as well. The plug slipped back inside of you once you were cleaned up enough. He whispered soft praises and kissed behind your ear or your back. Your eyes were unfocused with unshed tears still there. Your legs shook softly as you left your entire body weight on the dresser, letting him do what he needed. He always did well aftercare for you.

Changbin fixed your clothes for you and laid you on the couch. Once your body hit the couch, the feeling of exhaustion rushed in. Your eyes had mini weights as you grabbed a throw pillow to use for your head. You needed a nap, he fucked you so good.

“Hey prince, can you hear me?” You softly looked up at him and nodded with a little smile. “Good. I’m going to leave you here and say you got sick and need to stay away from everyone.”

“Okay..” You whispered and closed your eyes. You were already half asleep. The male above you smiled softly before moving away.. “I love you, hyung..”

His heart skipped a beat at the sleepy confession. “I love you too, prince.”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x male reader #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmim #yang jeongin #dom!skz #sub reader #stray kids x reader #straykids #stray kids smut #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader

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littlesubbyflower · 9 months

Text

High Pitch - E.M.

Pairings:: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

1.5k Words

Warnings:: Fluff, established relationship, reader has sensitive ears and often finds discomfort in certain pitches, mentions of tympanostomy (surgery where tubes are placed in the eardrum)

Summary:: After seeing your discomfort during Corroded Coffin’s setlist, Eddie vows you will never have to cover your ears ever again.

A/N:: Maybe you guys will like this version of Eddie? Sweet, loving, and caring boyfriend!Eddie. Also, thanks to my babies in the coven accountability sessions, ily <3 divider by @saradika-graphics

It all started one rainy September afternoon, Eddie swore he saw you flinch when he turned up the boombox he had stationed on his dresser. He had just gotten Ozzy Osbourne’s ‘The Ultimate Sin’ cassette in the sale section of the record store. Bringing one hand up to plug your ear closest to the radio before wrinkling your nose in discomfort, the other hand keeping the well loved copy of The Secret Garden open in your lap.

“Um, Eddie? Can you turn the radio down some?” You say apologetically. “I uh, just have a bit of a headache today.”

Eddie immediately lowers the volume almost completely and sends an apologetic smile your way. “Yeah sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He takes a step forward and leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Do you need any Advil? Have you eaten anything? Drink any water?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?” You smile sheepishly after slowly pulling your hand back down away from your ear. “I ate some of my lunch today, but I was in the library studying and only managed to eat my grapes and a granola bar. I had a few sips of my water too.”

Eddie shoots you a worried glance. “Alright, well, I’ll grab some Advil, a snack and water.”

“Thank you Eddie, you’re the best.” You call after him as he leaves the room.

He returns a few minutes later with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, two Advil and a water bottle.

The next time Eddie swears he’s seeing things as you wince and plug your ears is during Corroded Coffin’s band practice

“Hey, I’m going to step out for a second,” You call over the guitar solo that Jeff had been working on. “--just need some fresh air.” Quickly standing and rushing outside near his van.

Jeff finishes two notes before he stops and turns to Eddie. “Hey, is she okay?”

“Yeah man, said she just needed some air.” Eddie said, pulling a cigarette from the crushed box he had in his pocket and lighting it before inhaling and sitting on one of the larger guitar amps.

“Maybe her ears are a little sensitive. Sometimes certain pitches can bother me, so I wonder if it’s the same for her.” Gareth says.

“Maybe? She has been having a few more headaches, and asks me to turn things down quite often.” Eddie says, ashing his cigarette into the amber ashtray sitting on a table next to the amp.

Jeff nods in agreement, and turns the amp down a few notices and starts the solo again. Meanwhile, you’re rummaging through your bag, dumping the contents into Eddie’s passenger seat. Finally grabbing the small bottle of Advil, you take two. You make a mental note to try and put a pack of ear plugs into your bag for times like this.

You feel guilty tears building in your lash line, wiping them quickly before heading back towards the garage. Finding your place back on the couch, you sit with your feet tucked under you before smiling at the guys.

“Feelin’ any better, sweetheart?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile back at him. “Thanks.” You say as Gareth hands you a water then passes water to the other boys.

For the next twenty minutes, any guitar solos that needed to be practiced were done so with the instrument unplugged or moved to one of the acoustic guitars. Confusion settles over your features but you decide not to ask, silently thankful that the rest of band practice went a lot more quietly than when it had started.

“Well boys, I’m beat. We’re probably going to head out.” Eddie says, standing from his spot where he was still seated on the amp.

“You sure? We can stay for a bit longer if you want to keep practicing.” You say, looking up at him. Eddie smiles at you.

“I’m sure sweetheart, plus you look a bit tired. Let’s get you home.” Eddie says, holding his hand out for you to take. You take his hand and he helps you off the couch. “Okay boys, guess we’re leaving. Same time on Wednesday?”

“Possibly.” Jeff said.

“We have a gig tomorrow at The Hideout.” Gareth reminded Eddie. “Nine pm, so we will need to load up the van and go to unpack at seven.”

“Got it! I’ll be here at seven, if any of you asshats are late, you’ll be walking.” Eddie jokes.

Eddie peaked out from the corner to see you chatting with Steve and Robin. He smiled to himself and stepped back closer towards the band.

“Does anyone want a drink before we go on?” Jeff asked.

“Can I just have a Coke?” Gareth asked.

“Same.” Eddie said.

Damien shook his head. “No thanks, I’m good.”

Jeff slipped out into the crowd and ordered the drinks and quickly went back to distribute them before downing his own drink before making his way to the stage. Meanwhile, Steve migrated you and Robin closer to the front so you could see Eddie.

“Oh, I meant to ask, did you bring your ear plugs?” Robin said close to your ear.

Your face paled in color as you pat your pockets. Steve searched his pockets as well but came up empty handed.

“Shit…” you groaned.

“It’s okay, maybe the pitches won’t be so bad?” Robin said wearily. Boy she was so, so wrong. A high pitched, loud, note came barreling out of the amp and nine o’clock on the dot.

Steve’s hands immediately came up to your ears as you flinched, squeezing your eyes shut, silently cursing yourself for being so forgetful.

Eddie sent a confused look your way and Gareth scrunched his face up in an apologetic manner, while Jeff’s face held a guilty expression.

The set was short tonight, playing two or three songs instead of the usual five or six. It was something you were extremely grateful for, but would rather die than tell Eddie that.

“We’re Corroded Coffin, Thanks so much for coming out tonight!” Eddie said with a goofy grin that faded when the spotlight turned off.

A group of girls waited by the side of the stage for Eddie, but after setting his guitar down, he walked straight past them and made a beeline to you.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” His eyes search yours before pulling you into a hug as Steve removes his hands off of your ears.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay! Why?”

“No you aren’t.” Robin says.

Steve elbows her side. “This isn’t our place, Rob.”

“Well could someone tell me what’s going on?” Eddie says.

Silence falls between the four of you. Eddie expectantly looks at you.

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you close your eyes and turn your head away. “I just– it’s just–”

“Sweetheart, take a deep breath, I promise whatever it is, I won’t be mad.” Eddie says, using his thumb and forefinger to turn your head to look at him.

“I have really sensitive ears and sometimes the notes that are being played physically hurt my eardrums…” Your eyes immediately drop to the floor. “Not your typical ‘Ow, that was kind of loud’ hurt, like ‘someone is shoving needles into my eardrum’ kind of hurt.”

Eddie sucks in a deep breath and a guilty look flashed across his face. Why had you been in pain this entire time and never said anything? Band practice was probably the most miserable 2 to 3 hours of your life and Eddie had absolutely no idea. If band practice was bad, then the gigs played at The Hideout were even worse.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie said. “Why didn’t you say anything? God, now I feel like an asshole for anytime I gave you shit when you asked me to turn things down.” Sighing heavily, pulling your body impossibly closer to his, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. “I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck as he squeezed you, you giggled. “Eddie, ‘s not your fault. I just had three tympanostomies before the age of six.” Eddie looks at you confused. “I had three sets of tubes put into my ears before the age of six for my chronic ear infections and because of that, I have super sensitive ears.”

“She’s also supposed to use ear plugs.” Robin said, in her ‘matter of factly’ tone.

“Ear plugs?”

“Yes, earplugs. She’s got some special ones that her doctor had given her for use at school, but she’s supposed to wear the foam type ones if she goes to concerts.” Robin continues and Steve chimes in. “Usually I have some in my pocket because she and Robin have convinced me to go to several impromptu concerts, but I have two or three packs on me to block out the twerps arguing when I have to drive them around. Dustin’s screaming gets intense sometimes.”

“Melvad’s closes at eleven, right?” Eddie asks.

“I’m pretty sure, I think Joyce is working tonight too.” You say. “It’s late, can we just go tomorrow?”

“Whether we go now or in the morning, I don’t care.” Eddie kisses the top of your head. “I’m buying an entire box of foam ear plugs to keep in the van. I never, and I mean never want to see the look I saw on your face as soon as we started playing ever again.”

#littlesubbyflower #lsfwrites #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #littlesubbyflower: eddie munson #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

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midnight-pluto · 10 months

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MY MODEL: PG.06 — rizzler

MY MODEL: jing yuan x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: seems like the Xianzhou has hired a freelance photographer to help with their new magazine. however, this model seems to have fallen head over heels for a certain photographer — what exactly is their story?

my model master list || prev. || next

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25 2023 — 5:40 PM

WHAT WAS YOUR first thought when Serval told you that you should date Blade?

“This is hilarious, I should go show it to him,” would be the correct answer. Now were you still scared shitless of him? Yes of course, but now you have an actual reason to talk to him — you’re own entertainment, instead of you shamelessly plugging your friends music.

Looking around the studio for him, you immediately spot him leaning against the wall staring blankly at his phone. It wasn’t like he was hard to spot, he was 6’2 (188cm) after all.

Brushing past your coworkers and stepping over chords and past equipment you finally manage to find yourself leaning against the same wall Blade was. Taking a quick glance at him is when you’re heart starts to speed up; were you really going to do this? What if he takes it the wrong way? What if he doesn’t find you funny? What if he calls you weird?

Well, maybe the last one isn’t that horrible but since it’s Blade you would be thinking about that phrase for the next decade and then some. Pulling out your phone once again and unlocking it you muster up the courage to speak and interrupt the light silence between the two of you.

“Hey dude, Serval said that we should date,” you bluntly say, taking a side glance at the man next to you. Blade seemed to have stiffened up at your words and looked at you unblinking.

“Why’d she say that?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Like, why me? What was the reason?”

“Clout.”

He let out a small chuckle at your words which made your shoulders finally relax at the notion that he found what you said funny. “Was that it?”

“Yeah, what other reason should you go out with someone?” you reply jokingly.

“Less than two-hundred followers? Ew,” Blade sarcastically remarks to which you laugh at as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Wow you haven’t had a single sponsor within the last 6 months?” you fake an annoying tone along with the idol in front of you, “That’s like, really, embarrassing.”

“Shameful.”

A comforting silence overtakes the both of once more before you go back to the previous topic at hand, “Well Serval had originally said I should go out with Jing Yuan but according to her you had more clout.” You shrugged your shoulders as his eyes widen slightly.

“Let me see.”

Unlocking your phone, you pull up twitter in search for her tweet. As you pull the tweet up Blade tilts his head downwards to see Serval’s reply and scoffs lightheartedly, “That shits funny.”

You smile at his words and nod. Soon enough you begin to walk away from Blade as you both wave to each other, “Maybe his resting bitch face isn’t too intimidating.”

As soon as you’re out of his line of sight Blade immediately opens the groupchat but then sees a notification pop up and instinctively presses it. His eyes narrow as he looks across the room to see Tingyun grinning mischievously to which he rolls his eyes as she runs away.

EDITORS NOTE: created with a bit of cramps on the side — FUCK I FORGOT TO POST THIS YESTERDAY

TAGLIST: @zyphyrr @ohmyfinggod @not-creativequill @klemen-time @nekobluecute @theautisticduck @aixaingela @kokoki @imma-too-many-fandoms @ceylestia @lunavixia @queencybow @arraxthatsonjah @kiiyoooo @immahuman @ksnu @mikarasuge @kamikokii @rain-and-a-nice-nap @havingnonamesucks [ if you want to be added, send me an ask or feel free to comment! ]

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wylerkinktober · 4 months

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Wyler Kinktober 2024 Prompts

Hello everyone,

Now that @wylerprideevent is up and running, (Psst, there's still time to participate!), here are the prompts for Wyler Kinktober 2024! Hopefully, dropping them early will allow more of you to participate.

53 prompts survived from last year, the remaining 67 are brand new! You can find the full prompt list in text format behind the "Keep reading" link below, so you can copy/paste them into a document or spreadsheet for easier sorting and plotting. Please read the FAQ and Rules before you tackle your fanwork(s), and remember to have fun with this event!

The AO3 Collection for Wyler Kinktober 2024 will likely go live at the beginning of September - earlier doesn't make sense since AO3 deletes unpublished drafts 30 days after they were created. Keep an eye on this blog for updates!

Last but not least, I want to send a shoutout to @suchaladyy for kindly letting me reuse her spooky original prompt card design from last year, and another one to @itshype for offering to help with the 2024 event! If you have a questions not answered by the FAQ and Rules or are unsure about how to interpret/approach a specific kink/fetish/trope, please send us an Ask here, or message @itshype and/or @ourdramaqueen!

We wish you happy writing, editing, drawing, crafting, etc. etc.!

Wyler Kinktober 2024 Prompts

Day 1: Fire Play | Harness | Prison | Scratching

Day 2: Boot Licking | Accidental Stimulation | Scars | Office Sex

Day 3: Under the Table | Competence | Pegging | Windows

Day 4: Sexual Frustration | Knotting | Schmoop | CNC

Day 5: Corset | Selfcest | Knives | Macrophilia

Day 6: Assplay | Somnophilia | Praise | Getting Caught

Day 7: Squirting | Fuck or Die | Being Loud | Queening/Facesitting

Day 8: Electroplay | Hate Sex | Morgue/Funeral Home | Necks

Day 9: Breath Play | Blasphemy | Lingerie | Strap-ons

Day 10: Size Difference | Hair Pulling | Fucking Machines | Strength/Muscles

Day 11: Belts | Free Use | Pillowtalk | Tattoos

Day 12: Leather | On the Floor | Doggy Style | Doctor/Patient

Day 13: Crypt/Graveyard Sex | Abduction as Seduction | Hyde-Form Intimacy | Bruises

Day 14: Replacement Sex | Teacher/Student | Creampie | Temperature Play

Day 15: Discipline | Armpits | Bondage | Face Fucking

Day 16: Clit Warming | Sex Pollen | Stripping | Virginity

Day 17: Possession/Mind Control | Smiles/Laughter | Long-distance | Spitting

Day 18: Hunter/Prey | Marking | CBT/Cock & Ball Torture | Smells

Day 19: Recording | Stairs | Spreader Bars | Breeding

Day 20: Period Sex | Voice Kink | Healing/Comfort Sex | Torture

Day 21: Guided Masturbation | Butt Plug | Public Transport | Bareback

Day 22: Manhandling | Silk/Lace | Escort | Authority

Day 23: Cuckolding | Mirrors | Clones | Narratophilia

Day 24: Morning Sex | Voyeurism | Chains | Stretching

Day 25: Eye Fucking | Blood | Jewelry | Oral Fixation

Day 26: Kitchen | Multiple Orgasms | Suspension | Lipstick

Day 27: Primal | Glory Hole | Frottage | Camboy/Camgirl

Day 28: Cock Warming | Siren Song | Musical Instrument | Tears

Day 29: Cunnilingus | Milking | Spooning | Nipple Clamps

Day 30: Edging | Prone Boning | Vehicles | Power Dynamics

Day 31: Anything you want!

#wyler kinktober 2024 #wyler kinktober 2024 prompts #wyler kinktober #prompts #wyler #weyler #wednesday addams x tyler galpin #wednesday x tyler #wednesday addams #tyler galpin #wyler fanfiction #weyler fanfiction #wyler fic #weyler fic #wednesday netflix #kinktober 2024 #wyler fanart #weyler fanart

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

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LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO

cw: angsty fluff? is that a thing? light mentions of alcohol and weed, suna is drunk and silly, reader is designated driver (drink safely, my friends!!!), heavy mutual pining, inspired by that normal people scene (brothers...iykyk)

For a midsummer night, the breeze outside is surprisingly chilly.

Feeling more like September than July, your car window is barely cracked to let a bit of air inside the small stuffy vehicle.

The streets are barren as you drive through the backroads of your hometown—which is expected, as no one sane tends to willingly drive at 1:31 AM. Not unless they received a brief text from a blonde-haired setter asking you to handle a “liability” for him.

Equally intrigued as you were annoyed, you agreed to his weird request and he dropped a pin to his location almost instantly.

You remember him talking about some lowkey Inarizaki reunion this weekend—just like the old days, shitty booze in someone’s parent’s basement and cheap weed from the town’s local plug. Pro-volleyball players and all, you suppose some things never change.

With the lack of details Atsumu gave you, you don’t know what to expect as you drive to the marker on your GPS.

Seeing how he was cognizant enough to text you, you doubt he’s the one in need of assistance. It’s unlike Osamu to get belligerent enough to leave a party early, so he’s pretty much ruled out of your list of suspects, too. And hell would freeze over the day you see Kita drunk enough to need a designated driver.

So pulling up to the address and seeing a familiar headache comically slumped on the front steps of the porch, you don't know why you ever dared to be curious.

When you see him, you think he’s sleeping. It’s not until you park the car and make your way towards his slumped frame that you can confirm; even while his eyes are closed and he’s not necessarily awake, Suna is very much not asleep.

Nothing but an unruly mop of brunette slightly sways as he bobs his head from side to side, almost like he’s following along with a one-sided conversation in his thoughts. He’s alone, aside from a few discarded beer cans and the diluted thumping of the music from inside.

The anxiety inside of you can’t help from asking, "Did they just leave you here?"

You don’t expect an answer from him—more so thinking out loud at the brute stupidity and lack of safety from the whole situation. You make a mental note to scold Atsumu for his critical thinking skills the next time you see him.

At the sudden sound of your voice, Suna notices you walking toward him. Wrapped in a sweatshirt nearly swallowing you whole, he grins brightly. Your genuine concern paired with your silly choice of apparel somehow fits the situation nicely, he decides.

"Nah," he slowly shakes his head. Through squinted eyes, he hazily meets your gaze with a teasing smile, "They told me to sit and stay, like a good boy."

You don’t know why his words light a fire in your stomach, and even more alarmingly, you don’t know why you don’t hate it. You can’t help but laugh a bit at his drunken words.

Nodding your head to where he (somehow) comfortably sits on the concrete stairs, you hum in agreement.

"I’m surprised you actually listened," you exhale.

The summer breeze blows once more, and while it makes you shiver, Suna finds it refreshing compared to the stuffy confines of someone’s childhood basement.

He shrugs lazily as he presses his palms onto the porch, slowly bracing himself to stand.

"Only ‘cause I knew you were already on your way," he tries to play it off casually, like his insides weren't churning with acidic excitement to see you tonight. “More scared of you than I am of them."

He’s always been an honest drunk, more deadpan and blunt than his usual reserved facade. You bite your tongue at the pride that swells in your chest with the honesty of his remark.

"Good.”

As he stands, Suna stumbles slightly against the wooden railing of the deck, leaving you rushing to his side to support his stupor. He giggles at his own lack of awareness before regaining his composure, using the railing for support as he mumbles out a sleepy “M’fine.”

Not fully believing him, you let your hands linger a bit by his side, not quite touching him but still close enough to be prepared for another tumble.

Suna takes a deep breath to sober himself and opens his eyes to face you. He stares at you for a moment or two, eyes flickering through your features as he struggles to decide which one to focus on. The way your cupid’s bow scrunches in thought. How your pupils dilate with the lack of light. The stray piece of hair blown over your eyes and resting in the middle of your forehead.

It’s beautiful, he thinks. All of it. How easily breathtaking you can be on a chilly summer’s night, in an empty street, wearing a giant sweater, with a man who is irrevocably in love with you.

But, he knows he’s too drunk to be thinking like this.

He closes his eyes once more, grounding himself with the crisp inhale.

"It feels like the sidewalk is moving."

He hears your laughter and immediately opens his eyes again to see it—and, oh, he adores the sight. Flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes, he completely soaks in the moment of you entertaining his terribly lame joke. He’d take a moment to thank the stars watching above, but he doesn’t dare to look away for a second.

"I promise you, it’s not," you whisper, once again supporting his side and beginning the so-close but so-far-away walk back to your car. “How much did you even have to drink?”

His head plops onto your shoulder, “Never ask a man how much he’s had to drink. Weren’t you ever taught that?”

You scoff and he wants to kiss you, wants to taste it on his tongue and savor it forever. But he can barely lift his head, so he chooses to ignore the overwhelming urge.

Before he knows it, as if his feet were moving on their own, he's leaning up against the passenger side of your car.

“I don’t consider you a man,” your voice calls his attention back to reality, “I consider you a nuisance.”

He hums at your words, again finding his drunk gaze unable to be pulled away from you. Leaning against your car, he giddily smiles at seemingly nothing at all.

When you're about to usher him into the passenger seat, he speaks up, and it's not what you expect. Eyes still lost in yours, he wonders.

"Do I still have pupils?"

The question catches you off guard, has you shaking your head in disbelief and adoration at the nuisance before you. His eyes bore into yours, pupils still intact and practically shaped like hearts as he awaits your answer.

"Yeah," you reply. "They're about the size of saucers right now, but yes, you have pupils."

"S'fine,” Suna, as sleepy as he is, doesn't miss a beat. “They always get like that when I see you, anyways."

And something is suddenly different. In the streetlights illuminating from above, the moment turns intimate like the magnetic flip of a coin.

His words aren't flirty or teasing, they're genuine. Pure. His gaze leaves little room to argue with the fact that while he’s dizzy and mumbling and not nearly in the right state of mind, he’s honest, nonetheless.

And it feels wrong to take advantage of that.

“Okay,” you softly decide, opening the door and gently ushering his lanky body beneath its roof, “let��s go.”

He complies without restraint, lets you cover his head when it nearly skims the roof and buckle him in with caution. He rests his cheek against the cool window for the entire way to his apartment. It’s a quick drive, and you learn that Suna looks just as pretty illuminated in the red lights as he does in the green ones.

When your car is parked and his apartment complex taunts you from across the street, you call his name.

“Suna?”

“...”

“Rintaro?”

“Hmmph?”

Your hand is gentle on his shoulder, a featherlight weight to let him know you’ve arrived. And he knows—in fact, he was awake the whole drive. Watching the moon follow your car and relishing in the smell of your perfume invading his senses.

He feels you tap his shoulder again, “Do you need help getting out?”

“Y’know,” he turns his head to lazily send you a smile, “you shouldn’t try and get your hands on a man when he’s drunk.”

Your palm sweats against the steering wheel. He’s so infuriating and you want to kiss him—two things you’ve officially decided are not mutually exclusive. You choose to fight off a grin, instead.

“Well, you don’t usually need help getting out of the car when you're sober.”

“Yeah, but even if I was sober, I’d still want y’to touch me.”

The coin flips again. Words that are usually meant to be dirty or promiscuous are pouring out from his soul and directly into your heart. He means them, and both of you know it.

Something inside of you aches to grab his hand, so you do. You scratch the inevitable itch and hold his palm in yours. He lets you with ease, even squeezing it for good measure as he delicately plays with your fingers.

You squeeze his hand right back, and he knows it's saying all the things you can't right now.

With a warm belly, you smile softly, “Go to bed, Rintaro.”

Hearts in his eyes, he nods and opens the door. He leaves your car and crosses the street with a newfound caution to get home safely. Because he knows that while tomorrow inevitably will come, tonight—that feeling in your car—can never be taken from him.

On the elevator ride up to his apartment, he can’t help but flex the hand in his pocket—the one that squeezed yours a few moments ago.

Still trying to relish in the faint feeling of your skin on his, Suna begs himself not to be a coward when he’s sober in the morning.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x you #suna fic #suna rintaro fic #suna angst #suna rintaro angst #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #hq suna #haikyuu suna

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xmasterofmunsonx · 1 year

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Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana.

Pairing: harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: I am FLOORED by the love I’ve received on this so, surprise here’s chapter II a day early ❤️ if you wanna be tagged just lmk, and also some of y’all it won’t let me tag you

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, mentions of past abusive relationship, mention of throwing up in a paragraph marked with *** if you want to skip it, eventual smut/sexual relationship.

Word count: 6k+

II.

“I can’t believe this place hasn’t changed one bit.” You said to Eddie as you walked up to the back door of the Hideout. The boys had met to practice at Gareth’s garage, and after that you all grabbed pizza and packed up Eddie’s van, and Jeff’s car with their equipment needed for the show.

“Can’t mess with perfection.” Eddie winked at you as you held the large metal door open for him and Jeff as they carried their instruments in. Gareth was lagging behind, having a little more to carry, so you waited for him as you kept the door propped open.

“Shouldn’t they like, have someone to help you?” You asked as Eddie passed you again to head back out to his van for an amp and his guitar pedal.

“That’s what you’re here for!” He yelled back at you as you watched him walk away.

It was a cool September night- you would guess about 50 degrees. The temperature had drastically dropped throughout the day from when Eddie had picked you up, and your outfit of choice made less sense the longer you stood holding the door for the guys.

“Jesus, did you pack the whole music store up?” Eddie carried one last amp in and you followed him as he shook his head.

“Here.” He plopped the amp down as soon as you entered the drafty bar, and handed you his jacket and vest.

“No, I’ll be fine once I warm up.” You refused it, ceasing the hand rubbing you’d absentmindedly done in an attempt to warm up when you had walked in.

“And I’m giving you this to warm up.” He pushed it closer to you and you shook your head- you knew how much his jacket meant to him. He’d had it since you were in middle school, and although it had swallowed him then, there was no missing how much better he filled it out now in his older, more… broad age. “Harrington. Quit being stubborn.” He walked up behind you and placed it around you, and you begrudgingly put your arms into each sleeve- it fit you too, but the arms were a little long. It was still warm from being on him, and not even worth mentioning how much it smelled like him. Maybe you were crushing on him. “Take care of it, I don’t let anyone else ever wear it, m’kay?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and gave them a squeeze before he went back to his amp and pedals and carried them on to the stage. You followed him like a lost puppy, wanting to help but also not knowing what to do.

“Other than holding doors open, what can I do to help setup?” You asked Eddie, pulling at the sleeves of the jacket and anxiously messing with the wrists.

“Uh, you can uh-” Eddie looked bewildered as he looked over his shoulder at you, clearly losing his train of thought. It took him a few seconds to regain his train of thought, “There’s some cords I brought in over there, if you could bring me those, I’ll show you where they go.” You followed where he had pointed to and grabbed them, handing them to him. He unwound them, and basically all you had to do was match the color to where they needed to be plugged into.

You were busying yourself with that for a few minutes before a sudden guitar strum made you jump and almost shriek in surprise, Eddie had strapped his guitar on and was ready to test out his sound for the night. You stepped to the side and found one of the unused speakers that looked like it never moved due to the amount of dust and rings from forgotten drinks, and jumped up on it to take a seat as you watched the band finish setting up and checking their instruments. Eddie was yelling into the mic, motioning to the sound booth guy what to adjust which way, and you had to look away because you could feel yourself staring at him.

“You with them?” A guy with a not so happy face walked up to you, and you nodded.

“Yeah, Trip- she’s with me.” Eddie must have some type of supersonic hearing to have heard him ask you, and he gave Eddie a thumbs up before walking away. Not with the band- with him. The answer caused some surprise butterflies in your stomach. You watched as they played a few segments of a song together, making sure everything sounded okay, before they put their instruments on their stands and walked your way. Eddie was last, the others had headed further backstage.

“Here, I know you probably want it back.” You hopped off the speaker and started to take his jacket and vest off, before he stopped you.

“No, it's yours for the night. Don’t want any creeps thinking they can hit on you. Gonna head outside and smoke if you wanna come with me?” He placed a cigarette to his lips and you followed him, and you watched the way his Reebok clad feet slowed as you reached the back door. He let you go in front of him, and held the door open from behind you and guided you by a gentle hand on your lower back to the alley beside the Hideout.

“You guys do that setup every single week? That’s a lot of work. You have what, ten drunks that show up for you now?” You joked at him, and it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“No, we actually usually sell out on Saturday nights.” Your jaw dropped itself, “Yeah, apparently being wanted for murder and playing in a metal band will do that for you. We usually have an opener, but they dropped off tonight. So you’re in luck because now you get to see us play extra songs- probably just covers, but still.” Eddie leaned against the brick wall sideways, facing you. “You okay, Harrington? You’ve been awfully quiet today. Usually you’re nonstop talking like your brother.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You pulled his jacket closer, causing a whiff of him to envelop you and you leaned into the coziness of it- the worn leather, the mix of smells, and how warm it was keeping you. “Just regret wearing shorts to this, should’ve thought ahead and worn pants.”

“I think you look fine. Just a little cold. But you’re kinda wearing my jacket better than me, so…” You shoved his shoulder jokingly, and he clutched it as if you’d actually hurt him.

“Shut it.” You could feel your face blushing, and you hoped he just thought it was the cold.

“What, I can’t be a little bit of a flirt with you? Am I reading something wrong?” You watched as he exhaled smoke, making direct eye contact with you again. “‘Cause, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think, you know…”

You had to bite your lip to hold back a grin at how forward he was being. So Steve really wasn’t lying to you. Eddie was quite a flirt, always had been, but he’d never been one to lay it on thick with you, and you could simply always just mistake it for him being kind. Plus, it had been so many years since you’d interacted, you just didn’t know where things stood.

“You think?” You joked and he let out a cackle.

“Yeah, I think. I think that you have a crush.”

“Me? Harringtons don’t crush.”

“Yeah, well. I think all the blushing and staring you’ve done today says differently.” He reached his hand out slowly, testing the waters and ran his thumb along your jaw again. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Hey you two!” Robin’s oblivious voice interrupted you two as she approached you in the alley. “Line is out the door in the front, didn’t know if I could sneak in the back tonight since it's freezing.”

“Yeah, you know where it is.” Eddie motioned to her and you pushed yourself off the brick wall to follow her, but he grabbed your elbow and pulled you back to him. “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“What? I’m cold.”

“Bullshit. You’ve got a little cruuuuush.” He sang with a smile on his face. You wanted to honestly just plant a big kiss on him right then and there, but didn’t want to give in so easy.

“You’ll just have to wait and find out, won’t you, Munson?” he released your elbow from his grip, and you wandered back inside by yourself to find Robin at a high top bar table. She’d already grabbed two beers, and you thanked her. “Steve coming?”

“Yeah, he dropped me off at the door. Said he was gonna park, then head inside.” You nodded and looked around the bar, people were piling in. “Usually we sit here or stand on the side, security knows us by now.”

“Yeah, some guy named Trip? Asked if I was with the band earlier.”

“He takes his job way too seriously. And he’s quite the flirt, he even tries with me sometimes still so Eddie or Steve will have to tell him to back off.”

“Eddie said I was here with him, so he left me alone.”

“Oh, with him?” You nodded as you sipped on the cold, cheap beer.

“Yeah, I dunno. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Fucking finally!” Robin raised her hands in the air “God, he doesn’t shut up about you. Has Steve told you?”

“He did just last night a little bit about a crush or something…” you trailed off, seeing your brother push his way around the crowd of people.

“Or something. A crush?! You dingus.” Robin slapped Steve’s arm as he made it to your table.

“What was that for? Christ. I just made it to the table, there’s no way I’ve already done something wrong.” His eyebrows furrowed angrily then relaxed, “oh, we’re talking about the crush.”

“Yes! Eddie said she was here with him tonight, and then I caught the two in the alleyway by themselves.”

“Smoking! There was nowhere else to go. It’s nothing.” You shushed them and continued to sip your beer. After a few moments, a pair of arms were caging around you, placing a few beers on the table, and you could feel a warm chest against your back.

“Nice to see you all made it.” Eddie said from behind you, his arms stayed planted on the table on either side of you, and you had no other choice but to lean back into his chest into a more comfortable position. “Brought some more drinks. You wanna stand up on the stage or out here with these two?” He spoke to you and you angled your head up to look at him. “Promise the view is better up close.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Guess that means I’ll follow you.” You said as you hopped off the barstool. He held his hand out to you to help guide you through the now packed bar, but you felt someone tug on your jacket. You looked back and it was Robin.

“Have fun, just ‘nothing.’” And now it was her turn to throw a wink your way, you could see Steve smiling behind his beer as he watched you and Eddie weave through the people.

“They're giving you shit too?”

“Hm?”

“You heard me.” He propped himself up against the cement wall of the hallway, and looked down at you.

“Oh, nah. It’s nothing.” You decided to stick with that tonight as you shrugged your shoulders and threw your beer back. You were not in any rush to get tied up in anything, but you could feel feelings for Eddie surfacing rapidly. Was it because you felt so comfortable around him, or was it because of the way he had changed and become more handsome?

Apparently it was all of the above as you observed him from the side stage, your butt planted on the old, unused speaker again. Show Eddie was a different Eddie than you’d ever, ever seen before. He was confident, and almost cocky. He was throwing glances your way as he sang into the microphone sideways, walking over to you to wink with his chin held high, and then he turned to look back at you with a grin on his face before he broke out into a guitar solo, your eyes were completely glued to the way his fingers moved up and down the neck of the guitar.

“You two something? Never seen Eddie show off like this before and I’ve watched him weekly for years.” Trip was beside you and you had to ask him to repeat himself over the volume of the band.

“No, uh. We’re just friends. I used to live here, but just moved back after graduating.”

“Oh, you’re the Harrington girl? Your brother hangs out with him all the time, right? And Robin?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Eddie and I were best friends in middle school, then high school we went our separate ways. Now I’m back in Hawkins and we’ve been hanging out again.”

“He’s a good kid. One of the most talented we’ve ever had, that’s why we let him play so young here.” You nodded along, “he’s been through a lot too. But he’s told me about you before, a couple of times when he’s had too much to drink.”

You looked over at Eddie who was glaring at you and you waved at him to let him know everything was fine.

“Alright, just friends. I gotta get back to my job, but the beers are on the house for Eddie’s girl.” He waved bye as you tried to correct him, but he was too far to hear you by the time what he said had clicked.

“We’ve got one more for you shit heads tonight.” Eddie smiled into the microphone, looking out at the crowd before he turned to smile at you, “I don’t think we’ve played this in years, but we heard we’d have a special guest tonight so we thought we’d practice it and bring it back out just for her, so here you go.” He nodded at you as he started up the song. It was one of Corroded Coffin’s original songs that you had helped Eddie write for the school’s talent show. He had struggled with it for months before you came over to his house, canceling the D&D game planned and you two stayed up all night writing the song together.

You grinned as he played the familiar song and they finished, taking a bow before running off the stage. Eddie stopped in front of you with his tongue barely sticking out of his mouth- he was biting it with a smirk on his face.

“You still feel like it’s just nothing, or…?” You rolled your eyes at his sudden cockiness, he was perched at your knees and placed his hands on them before he took a step closer, your legs literally had a mind of their own as they parted for him to stand between them as his guitar was still hanging from his back.

“Maybe something.” You blushed as you looked up at him, “really thought I had better game than this, but you really got me during that last song, Munson.”

“Yeah?” He took a step closer and smiled as he tucked a piece of hair out of your face and cradled your chin. “Can I kiss you?”

“You really think you need to ask?” Your leg was kicking the amp in anticipation as you watched Eddie look over your face for any sign of joking around, or second guessing your answer.

“Just making sure, I really couldn’t tell if-” you were sick of him talking and just wanted his lips on yours. You leaned forward to close the gap and pulled him down to your level by the nape of his neck. His hand flew back to catch his guitar from falling forward at the force with which you pulled him to you, and his other hand was at your neck pulling you into him. His lips were soft and full, fitting against yours perfectly. He tasted like the whiskey you’d seen him sipping on between songs all night, and there was a faint hint of salt from the sweat that had formed on his lips. He was the first to deepen the kiss, his thumb on the center of your throat as he pressed his tongue to your lips begging for silent entrance, and your tongues thrashed with each others as you couldn’t scoot quick enough to the edge of the amp to get closer to him. Teeth collided, and the kiss wasn’t pretty, but there was more passion behind it than you’d felt in years. You hadn’t been kissed, or kissed anyone like this that you could ever remember. He was first to pull back, his breath panting, as he looked up at you with heavy lidded eyes, and resting his forehead on yours.

You were fighting back giggles, feeling like a teenager who got to kiss their rockstar crush for the first time ever.

“You’ve um, you’ve got something right here.” Your shaky hand reached up and wiped off your lipstick from the corners of Eddie’s mouth, and he grabbed your hand to place a kiss on your thumb before you let it fall in your lap. He was fighting back laughter too, out of pure joy and nothing else.

“Well, that was, that was new.” He stood up straight and adjusted his guitar, pulling it off of his shoulder and holding it by the neck. He held his other hand out for you and you took it, needing the help to get off of the speaker. You thought he was just helping you off, but he laced his fingers with yours and guided you back to the “dressing room” they allowed the bands to hang out in before or after the shows. The rest of the band had already made themselves comfortable in the room, and Steve and Robin had made it back there too.

“That shade of pink is really your best color, Eddie.” Robin announced as the two of you walked further into the room, Eddie pulling you into his lap after he placed his guitar into its case.

“Thanks, I thought so too. I borrowed it from her.” He wrapped an arm around your waist tightly and held you close to him.

“God, you two are gonna be annoying.” Steve said as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

“At least we won’t have to hear about her anymore.” Robin elbowed Steve and Eddie cleared his throat to correct them.

“Yeah, what’s that I hear from everyone? Even Trip knew about me. You’re gonna give me shit about a crush but you’ve been talking about me to the Hideout’s security guard? C’mon, man.” You teased Eddie and he just rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go to the bar.” He suggested and everyone piled out of the room.

“Yeah, I heard Eddie’s girl gets to drink on the house tonight?” You bumped Eddie with your hip and he quickly slung his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Eddie’s girl? Who’s that?” He looked down at you with a huge smile on his face, his fingers looped their way through the belt loop of your shorts, underneath his jacket.

“I’m just taking a wild guess here, but probably the only girl, or person rather, that’s ever worn this jacket other than him.” Robin butted in.

“I do like the sound of that though.” He said as he walked side by side with you.

“Slow down, Munson. It’s been two days.” You put your hand on his chest as you sat down at a bar stool around the bar. Shots of some liquor were placed in front of all of you and you all took them in unison.

“Says the girl who pulled me in for a kiss as soon as she could get her hands on me.” He leaned in and kissed your heated cheek as he ordered a drink for himself. You ordered a rum and coke to sip on the rest of the night, already knowing the switch from beer to liquor was going to make you regret everything the next morning.

“So, you gonna look for a job, or what?” Robin asked you from her seat at the bar.

“I guess I probably should, right? Dad said I could always just go work at his office if I can’t find anything, and it would be part time. I know everyone up there and it wouldn’t be a hard job.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t let me work there. You always get everything.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Okay, Mr. Brand New BMW in high school.” You shot back at him quickly- you were given a nice car too, it just wasn’t brand new like Steve’s had been.

He had no comeback, and he turned to talk to Robin. You looked up at Eddie who was talking to his bandmates, and he turned around to look back at you. “We gotta go load up now, but you can stay here, we shouldn’t need help, it’ll be quicker than unloading was.”

“Want your jacket? I’m sure it’s colder out now than it was.”

He got up from his barstool and gently placed his hands on your shoulders before he planted a kiss on top of your head, “No, it’s yours tonight.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Munson has more moves than BOTH of the Harrington siblings.”

“Shut up, Buckley.” You and Steve jinxed each other.

“No really, it’s cute. Total rom-com if you ask me. Two best friends, destined to be lovers until high school breaks them apart because of social constraints. Girl has a tragic post-college breakup, and then girl moves home to rekindle the flame of missed opportunities for love with her old best friend. I can see it now.” You and Steve were dumbly staring at her with your heads propped on your hands. “So really, what happened with Charlie?”

“Don’t, go there Robin. We don’t need to.” Steve stopped her, trying to save you from having to talk about it.

“Typical behavior from a possessive, crazy male. He was… abusive to say the least. In every way possible. I kept giving him more chances until I couldn’t anymore. The last straw was when Steve called me to tell me about everything, how Eddie had almost died, and Charlie wouldn’t let me come home to even see my brother.”

“Wouldn’t let you?” Robin seemed stunned.

“I wasn’t allowed to do anything. I was his little… I don’t know. Housewife? I had to ask to leave the house, half the time he drove me anywhere I needed to go because he didn’t trust me. He’d be the one to pick me up, early always to make sure I didn’t leave to go somewhere else. I was always where I said I was but him on the other hand- he went on a work trip, aka Hawkins, and came home and fucked Grace.”

“Weren’t you two like-”

“Yeah, best friends. Hope I don’t run into her, it’ll take everything in me to not smack her in the face.”

“Let’s hope you throw a punch better than your brother.” Eddie had returned to the bar, his arm resting around your waist as he stood behind you.

“So anyway, after I found that out, I called off the engagement, pissed my parents off, stuck around long enough to gather evidence to catch him and form a case against him, then moved back home.”

“Damn.” Robin was speechless, for once, as you told her the story without showing much emotion at all. You were sick of crying over the whole thing, and tired of telling the story but as one of Steve’s closest friends, and likely soon-to-be one of yours, she needed to know why you were home before rumors started circulating.

“I already know that come next week there’s going to be some rumor floating around making me the bad guy but-”

“Fuck ‘em. He’s a piece of shit. The ones spreading the rumors are gonna be the same ones who swore I was a murderer too.” Eddie jumped into the conversation.

“I still don’t think mom and dad believe me.” You looked over at Steve who had grown quiet too.

“I mean, they do. But-”

“But what? Disappointed in their golden girl for not being married off to the Hawkins High society king?” You scoffed as you motioned for the scruffy bartender to bring you another drink, “make it a double.” You slid the empty glass to him in exchange for the new drink. “I’m so sick of making other people happy at my expense. It’s not fair.” You sighed as you took a sip of your drink, “Sorry guys. You didn’t ask for any of that.”

Robin reached across the bar and held your hand, “hey, it’s okay. You’re our friend now too, even if you’re his sister. Especially because you’re his sister. You’re here now, we’re gonna take care of you.” You nodded at her as you felt Eddie hold you closer from behind as he finished his drink too, but told the bartender he was done for the night.

“So Steve, now that I admitted I had a crush on Eddie- how was your date last night?” Steve rolled his eyes and sighed.

“She’s got a crazy ex-boyfriend she didn’t tell me about! So I almost got my ass kicked last night. She was using me to make him jealous.”

“Poor Steve. You just have the worst luck with ladies lately, don’t you?” Eddie joked with him as Steve showed him his middle finger. The four of you sat at the bar until close at 2 am, then said goodbye to Robin and Steve as you followed Eddie to his van.

“I don’t mean this in any way, but I know you’re really drunk right now and your house is further away than mine. Do you wanna head back to mine or yours? Wayne’s night shift again, so he won’t be around. I don’t want you by yourself so I can sleep on the couch or we can go back to yours and I can stay in the guest room or something, I’ve done that before.”

“Your house is fine. I’m feeling a little queasy.” You said quickly, settling into the passenger seat.

“Sounds good.” You rolled down the window to help some air blow on your face, and pulled Eddie’s jacket tight around you. The next thing you knew you heard the clunking of the door to the van opening up and Eddie was reaching over you carefully to undo your seatbelt. You let him do that, but took your time climbing out of the van because you were feeling dizzy from the drinks.

“I’m already apologizing for getting sick, whenever that happens.” You muttered as he helped you up the front stairs and through the door to his house.

“Happens to the best of us. My rooms down the hall to the left, I’ll be right in. I’m gonna grab you some water. Just have a seat on the bed.” You gave him a thumbs up and found his room, the door was closed so you opened it quietly. There were metal band posters all over the walls, clothes strewn about the floor and he had a small collection of three guitars, and one empty stand which must hold the one he played tonight’s show with. You slowly scanned the walls of his room, finding a collage board of pictures from high school. It was all the hellfire kids and they were all beaming with huge smiles in every picture- even Eddie. You wondered how different your life could’ve been if you would’ve not been a prick to him in high school. Maybe he would’ve graduated in time, maybe you would’ve been together, maybe you-

“Nosy, nosy. Always so nosy, Harrington.”

“You can call me by my first name, Munson.”

“Oh yeah? So can you.” He said your name lowly as he stepped closer to you. Hearing him say your name like that had you feeling weak in the knees, and you grabbed onto his shoulders to hold yourself up but played it off by wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Okay, Eddie.” You smiled at him and pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to almost reach his height, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He kissed back, but ended the kiss quickly, “Listen, I really do like you. Like, have a major crush on you, and have for a long time. But we’re going to take things slow and not make a mess out of things, okay?” You nodded as he pushed hair out of your face again. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You smiled at his compliment- it had been a long time since anyone had called you that. Compliments from guys at the bar meant nothing compared to the way Eddie had just spoken to you with his dark chocolate eyes staring into yours.

“So are you.” You mimicked his motion of pushing hair back from his face and you watched as he shied away from looking at you, “no, really, Eddie.”

He looked back at you as you said his name “I adore the freckles on your face, and how deep your dimples go when you smile.” He smiled huge as you doted on him, “and when your smile reaches your eyes and you get those wrinkles.” You poked them lightly, “those are my favorite.” You two stood in silence looking at each other, waiting for one to make a move, any move.

“You are such a sweet little drunky, aren’t you?” He guided you over to his bed where he sat you down on the edge. “Gimme your foot.”

“I’m not thaaaat drunk, Eddie.” You fell back against his bed and watched the ceiling start to spin, so you closed your eyes.

“Got the spins, but you’re not that drunk?”

“Nu-uh.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt Eddie take off your other boot.

“Need help changing or are you sleeping in tights and your shorts?”

“I’d rather change if you have some clean clothes to spare.” Seconds later, you were being hit in the face by two pairs of clothing to change into.

“Up you go. Bathrooms down the hall. Should have an extra toothbrush in there too.” You accepted his help as he walked you to the bathroom and you shut the door behind you, changing into one of his soft band shirts and a pair of his pajama bottoms. You washed your face with one of the clean wash rags you found underneath the cabinet with the spare toothbrushes and put it beside whos you assumed was Eddie’s, and just as you went to turn the knob to exit you were hit with a wave of nausea.

“Fuck!” You said to yourself as you headed for the toilet and threw the toilet lid up as fast as you could.

*** “Better out than in!” Eddie barged in the bathroom, quick to stand behind you and pull any hair out of your face. He was quick to redo your ponytail as you continued to heave into the toilet a few times, and he was even quicker to flush the toilet so you didn’t have to look at anything.

“Sorry.” You said as you sat against the bathroom wall. “Liquor after beer always gets me.”

“You did have enough to sink a ship tonight, so either way I knew you were gonna get sick.” You two sat there as you rested your head on your knees and he gently patted your hair when you decided you were done. You felt a lot better after getting that up, and brushed your teeth again, this time with Eddie beside you in his pajamas before you went back to his bedroom. He’d cleaned up a tiny bit- enough that you noticed, and he had brought your dirty clothes from the bathroom with him and laid them on his desk.

“Need anything else before I head out to the living room?” He asked you as you sat down on his bed. “Just yell if you need me. I’m a light sleeper now, I’ll probably hear you but if I don’t, don’t be afraid to wake me up.”

You thanked him and gave him a hug, and he kissed you goodnight on the cheek before leaving his door cracked open for you. You climbed into his bed and pulled the covers up to your neck. You tossed and turned for what felt like forever. You couldn’t get comfortable, despite how nice his bed felt and how much it smelt like him.

“Eddie?” You said quietly. You took a deep breath before saying his name again, except a little bit louder. He was immediately at the door, his eyes were wide open looking for you, he must’ve heard you the first time but it took him a second to get off the couch.

“You okay?” He rushed into his room and sat down on the side of the bed.

“Can’t sleep.” You sighed.

“Want a bedtime story?” He said as he chuckled at you, fixing the covers around you. You missed the way he was admiring the image of you in his bed, the way that he missed how you were admiring him hovering over you in nothing but his pajama bottoms.

“Mhm.” You nodded quickly and he rolled his eyes. “Haven’t heard one of those Eddie stories in ages.”

“Alright, alright. A long time ago, in a galaxy far away-”

“Eddie! A real one!”

“What? Star Wars is a perfectly acceptable one.”

“Fine then.” He cleared his throat dramatically. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a-”

You covered your face to hide your laughter at the fact that Eddie had memorized the beginning of The Hobbit word for word.

“Listen, sweets. You’re the one that wanted a bedtime story.” He laughed as your laughs died down. “You gonna listen?” He was suddenly serious as voice sounded innocently threatening but it had a hint of something else.

“Get in bed?” With the sheet pulled back, you scooted over and let him slip into the bed beside you. He propped himself up on his side as he looked at you.

“If all you wanted was for me to be in here, that’s all you had to say.”

“I didn’t want to-”

“If we’re gonna be something, you gotta be honest with me, alright?” You nodded as he rested his arm across your belly and picked at his worn shirt on your body. “And if I can be honest right now, you look way hotter in my shirt than I do. Kinda driving me wild right now.” You wriggled beneath his grasp and he smirked as he felt you move.

“And if you never wanna wear a shirt around me again, that’s fine too.” You ran your fingers over his tattoos on his chest, and slowly made your way to one of the pale pink scars and watched his eyes for permission.

“Let’s get you to sleep, yeah? Cuddle up, Star Wars or the Hobbit tonight?” He asked as he pulled your hand away and placed it on top of your belly and he put his hand there too. “Guest of honors choice.”

“Hmmm.” You pretended like you were thinking, but you knew you preferred Star Wars. “Star Wars.”

“A-hem. As I was saying. A long time ago, in a galaxy far away…” Eddie talked on and on until you drifted off to sleep, his arm falling heavier on you as you gave into the darkness of your eyelids closing.

TAGLIST: @secretdryrose @adequate-superstar @briasnow-blog @tinyminxie @boomhauer

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson writing #eddie munson x harrington!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x reader #joseph quinn

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lovendermist · 2 months

Note

hello to u!! can i req a hange angst scenario with the prompt "and the funny thing is i would have married you" it's from the song doomsday by lizzy mcalpine (it's really good too!) its up to u if it's happens in the modern au or after hange's death following the storyline :) SURPRISE ME PULEEAASE☝️☝️

And the funny thing is I would've married you...

Some absence, some distance, but one thing stays true.

Type: Scenario, An attempt at angst, Modern AU, Songfic-ish

WC: 2,752

Pairing: Hange x Fem!Reader

A/N: Anon I gotta be honest I may have overindulged myself with this one. I researched the hell out of the song for this... not really, but still. Only the third paragraph was born out of that research. And thanks for giving me a new song to obsess over, I played it a ton while writing this. I was not familiar with Lizzy McAlpine's game, the only song I knew from her was Pancakes for Dinner (which fits pretty well with my AU, so that's something, if you guys are interested). I honestly hope you're good with this anon, because I really am not used to writing angst... </33 And I only had 1k words as the goal when starting this so I'm so sorry if it's so long anonnn 😭 I didn't even think I'd reach 2.5k.. I hope you're surprised nonetheless.

Some notes before you guys read: - I am so not good with angst!!! If you look through all my works it's nothing but a sea of fluff so please forgive me if this doesn't exactly rip your heart out. - Modern AU, cause I can't deal with Hange dying and also because this prompt kind of matches what my own modern AU plot with Hange looks like. - I'm unsure if the plot is clear enough. It's hard to give tidbits of information when you have the entire universe of your modern AU mapped out. - That being said, I'll leave some very brief explanations by the end. Enough yapping. I hope you guys enjoy :')

hange masterlist

Nine months in from Hange’s departure. Nine months in from Hange’s absence, a specific conversation sparked in your mind.

“Pull the plug in September,” Hange spoke, laughing softly, ”I don't want to die in June,” They joked.

They always did tease you for being born in June. They said it was because of that one tiktok they saw stating how if you were to die in a certain month, you’d be reborn with that zodiac in the next life. They teased you, saying they didn’t want to be as emotional and sensitive as you and would rather stick to being the analytical September virgo they were.

“I'd like to start planning my funeral,” Hange, the best friend that they are, kept teasing you as you playfully hit them on their arm.

“I didn't realize how much you meant to me until now,” they once whispered, “I think you’ve made quite the difference in my life if I'm talking about you that way, huh?” Hange’s words were always so sweet and simple, always so considerate and gentle to make up for your innocence.

Your best friend had such a way with their words, making you feel something you couldn’t quite name. Every time Hange did something for you, looked your way or talked to you a certain way, you felt it.

You felt it when they tucked your hair back into place. You brushed it off as a caring gesture.

You felt it when your mind looked for them everywhere you went. You brushed it off as a friendly feeling.f

You felt it when they suddenly looked so attractive in your eyes. You brushed it off as a normal occurrence. You were the only one left in this world that would call your own feelings something friendly and caring.

But your friends point out how Hange looks for you whenever you weren’t around.

“I was looking for you!” Hange would say, with a cheeky grin plastered on their face.

“I didn’t like how that guy looked at you like that,” Hange would protest.

“I wanted to be with you,” they would even add.

They said Hange acted differently around you, but you know they’ve always been sweet and caring… right?

Nine months in from Hange’s departure. Nine months in from Hange’s silence. I've got work to do. You both do.

Pull the plug, make it painless

You wished things didn’t come to this. They only needed their reassurance that they were okay after leaving in the middle of that horrible storm, but days passed. Weeks passed. Months.

“I don't want a violent end.” You said to Levi, to which he only replied with a sympathetic look.

All you ever wanted was your best friend back, for Hange to reach out from wherever corner of the country they settled in after seeking shelter from a horrible storm all those nights ago.

Reassurance felt like a weak word, something intangible, something you told yourself you wouldn’t get anytime soon. Especially not from Hange after hearing from Levi that they reached out to everyone but you in the following months after they’ve settled in. Abandonment felt more real of a word than rekindling ever did.

The more you tugged on Levi’s sleeve for further updates, the more you felt deserted. Each waking day was hell without Hange, even after knowing well enough that they’re doing alright. It was agonizing to realize they’ve moved on from a peaceful life with you in this town without even a single word spoken to you since you last talked. But the thought was just as stupid as their decision to cut contact with you for months.

Hange can think all they want that they only wanted to settle down and to leave you behind, thinking their friendship was nothing but a burden to you, but they can’t escape from the awareness of the pain that they caused you. They know they left you with more questions than answers.

They hear it from Levi’s messages, when their casual conversation goes back to how you were doing and how you were dealing with their intentional ghosting. And Levi will never live it down, telling Hange how much you’ve been aching for their presence. They see it from your silenced messages from all those months ago when they tried to drown you out as they made out with another girl. And Hange sees your eyes in her. Hange finds your presence for a short while when they tangle their hands through her hair and it drives them mad.

“Did you hear the news?” Levi asked you one day.

“It looks like they’ve gotten with someone recently.” He showed you the updates you so badly desired every time, but this one was different.

This was how you knew about Hange’s new relationship– not from Hange, no, they didn’t even let you in on their socials. It was through Levi’s updates that reignited your resentment towards their silence and their abandonment. It was also then that you knew calling them your best friend all those years ago were just your own feelings covering it up, denying it for so long. You’ve realized things too late and there’s no going back.

And it drives Hange mad how they’ve left things unsaid. How long they’ve kept you in silence, leaving you to grasp onto nothing but Levi’s occasional updates from their social media. How much their new girl looks so much like you, leaving them unable to run from their past completely.

Why couldn’t they just shake you off? They thought their feelings for you subsided all those years ago, but they look at their new girl and feel nothing but longing for you.

A year in from Hange’s departure. Someone called for a reunion. One where the lights dimmed and the bass ran through your bodies. A reunion where your eyes that once looked to Hange in adoration averted theirs. Where only a few of your friends were aware of the feud, the distance and the tension that emanated between you two. One that ended with you intoxicated and left alone with Hange in your house, presenting themself in an attempt of a renewal at friendship, with Levi just in the other room.

“Don't say that you'll always love me,” You blurted out, the alcohol slowly leaving your system as the person you spent months waiting for stood quietly right in front of you.

You had enough of Hange’s excuses and lies, of their words saying they’ve always loved you when the truth was that they left you for months without a word.

“'Cause you know I'd bleed myself dry for you over and over again.” The tension and resentment burst out like wildfire.

I'll feel like throwing up, you think, as Hange continues to stand in front of you. They feel a pang of guilt and concern as they watch you crumble right in front of them, months of exhaustion and grudges spilling on the floor with every word you say. Hange, at last, sees how much they’ve hurt you with their silence, and their hands tremble at the consequences of their actions.

“And you'll sit and stare like a goddamn machine.” Harsh, bitter words continue to leave your mouth.

You can grit your teeth all you want, glare at them all you want, but you both know each other too well to be too mad like this. Hange’s gaze remains soft and caring, too much for your liking, but you know they mean well. Although they should’ve already been that way, and maybe then we don’t have to go through this right now.

“I don't get a choice in the matter.” Is all Hange says about their departure, with a shaky breath and a quivering voice.

You know they’re right, although they could've at least messaged you all these months. Hange knows this, and you do too. Is this really what they’re going to say to you now?

But why would you care when clearly they have a new and better life now? They’re only here to say hello and goodbye just as quickly. To say they’re sorry and leave just as quickly. Why would you care when they have a new girl, one that almost looks just like you? Why would I? It's only the death of me.

But maybe the Hange you knew was still there, just hiding deep in the masks that they’ve found themselves behind after all those months of finding a new, better life. After all, you knew them best. I think there's good in you somewhere, and you hold on to that hope while Hange’s eyes look at you with such concern and longing. If you weren’t so drunk and so spiteful, you’d kiss them.

You’d kiss them drunk and forget the world completely but they keep staring at you and reaching out to you with their gentle hands and pure intentions and you can’t do it. You don’t want them to touch you, not when they have someone else waiting at home. You don’t want it– not in this state and in this condition. Yet Hange looks at you with the same kind eyes as when you were kids and it hurts. You gaze at each other, your eyes filled with hate and longing and the other just as needy and regretful as if to say I'll hang on 'til the chaos is through.

Weeks pass by since that fateful night. Sobriety had proven itself a better punch in the gut than realization ever did. Little by little, you accepted Hange’s messages and their attempts to reach out. You slowly accepted Hange back into your heart, despite the gnawing jealousy in your gut of them and their new lucky girl. But you can’t help but find it funny how this time Hange was the one reaching out.

One day you hear them out and decide to meet up. For old times sake, Hange said. They’re not wrong, a meeting was long overdue. You accept their invite knowing hatred will never let you move forward with good intentions towards them. One day you hear them out and Hange’s perspective was never quite the same.

“The death of me was so quiet,” you let your mouth run in the middle of a cafe, telling tales of how your life has been in the past few months during Hange’s absence. “No friends and family allowed.” And Hange just knows exactly what you mean.

“Only my murderer, you,” you refer to them as you stir your drink with the straw.

Hange looks at you with a tilted head and a curious expression. They look at you so softly, with such tenderness that it irks you. It irks you knowing how much you’ve ached for each other for so long only for it to be interrupted by your own innocence, a stubborn storm, and now, a third party. And then here they are with their kind and prying eyes like they haven’t done anything wrong.

“And the priest who told you to go to hell,” you continue with a chuckle.

You recall both of your slight aversion towards religion and some of its rules. Hange ran their mouth in that little hometown of yours a little too much that word got around, and the priest that said he loved you all the same told them to go to hell. It was astonishing to see first hand and yet secretly, you did wish that priest was to be the one that wed you two. Maybe someday, maybe if Hange didn’t choose someone else, you’d call him up and arrange for the union you so deeply desire.

“And the funny thing is I would've married you,” and suddenly your soft smile is all Hange sees, your tone sounding more true and vulnerable than intended, “if you'd have stuck around.” You added.

Given more time, when you finally knew your feelings well enough, you know you would have. Given more time, where they didn’t have to leave town, you were almost sure one of you would’ve put a ring on the other already. And you would’ve preferred that version of reality instead of the one where Hange sat in front of you in a cafe knowing they were already taken by someone else by the time you realized your own feelings, with the mere promise of getting along.

I'd have liked to plan out my part in this, Hange thinks as they try to compose themselves for a more proper reply. They are bewildered by what they just heard.

You, their childhood best friend, with the desire to marry them? To be wed with the messy and cruel person that they are? If they switched the setting from a cafe to a club, maybe they’d believe your words. It’d be more believable to them if you had an alcoholic drink under your hands, but the place is clear as day and they know your words are true and sincere.

All Hange can do is wish they could turn back time, but instead they look at you, and you’re both grown. It’s only been a few years but oh, how they could turn back time– but they look at you again, unaware that to them, you were the very embodiment of the passage of time. You were the very evidence they needed to show that what you both had and what they felt for you was real.

In one look Hange knows your childlike innocence was long gone the moment they stepped out the window, your heart broken long ago the minute they turned their back on you for months in hopes of settling down.

“But you're such a narcissist.” Your voice shakes, “That you did it on Halloween.”

And “I had no choice in the matter” is what they’ll keep telling you and what they’ll keep telling themselves, but their voice shakes this time and their resolve isn’t strong anymore. Though after hearing your confession, they weren’t too sure if a new chapter in life was their true goal anymore and if their new girl really fulfilled them like you did.

“And if you loved me so much like you said you did,” you sip your drink, “Why not reach out?”

The words ring hollow in Hange’s mind.

“Why would I?” Hange’s expression softens, and you both know their words mean no real malice.

“It's only the death of me,” Their brows furrow. It would kill them

“I was so stupid to keep you waiting in the dark for so long. I thought by doing that you’d move on from me and I’d forget you. But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t.” And just like that they pour their heart out to you in a cafe, singing tales of how they’ve always held love for you and thought of you every single day, even when they were with the girl they currently loved.

You can see it in their eyes, how desperate they are to make it all up to you, their apologies spilling from their mouth for you to acknowledge.

As much as you wanted them to continue their contact with you, you wanted more than just friendship and you knew deep in your heart that it was impossible. Who were you to ask of such things when, despite their numerous attempts to reach out, you were already so resentful towards them? Not to mention their relationship with their new girl… It messes with your mind how lovely and pained Hange looks in front of you, begging for your forgiveness and their need to make up for lost time.

In the end it’s up to you to decide whether you should let Hange back in your heart and to remain friends like old times or to shut them away slowly, just like what they did to you, for good. For your sake and theirs, just so jealousy wouldn’t run its course and ruin their relationship because god, their new girl looks just like you.

“It’s only the death of me,“ they sigh, tone full of regret, “but I would’ve married you too,” Hange’s words ring out. It only hurts both you and Hange to be aware of their admission. The weight of the time spent away from each other, each untold story, each unspoken word hangs heavy on the shoulders.

A year in from Hange’s departure. Minutes away from late confessions. Doomsday is close at hand. Will they only sit and stare this time? - Here's the basic-ish plot of what I had in mind for my own modern AU that kind of mixed with this request: Hange leaves for shelter in the middle of a storm, leaving you. They don't contact you for months because they must've hit their head or something (/j). They date someone that looks like you. Rekindling attempts happen, will you let them in your heart again?

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carbondioxda · 10 months

Text

A cigarette

Simon ,,Ghost” Riley/reader

a/n: might contain a little swearing, i think i’m projecting my grief, english isn’t my first language sorry for any mistakes!

c/w: angst ig, hurt no comfort, no beta we die like men aaand reader is a girl, no use of y/n

He sat on the couch, in complete silence. The apartment was so empty, it was overwhelming. Just like the amount of guilt he felt.

Why did he scream at her right before she went out? It was the only time she seemed scared before a mission. The only time she desperately didn’t want to go.

,,Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake, you’ve been panicking so much it’s making me wanna blow my head off.”

That were the last words Ghost said to her. The last he ever will.

,,No, wait, I’m so sorry, Si-”

She stuttered, while another soldier pulled her slightly by her arm.

,,I love you Si!”

She managed to shout, but he wouldn’t have time to respond anyway. Now that he thought about it, Simon had never seen a look like that on her face - like she was certain she’d die. The girl he loved so much wanted to say a proper goodbye, or stay if that was even possible somehow.

He couldn’t even cry. Everything felt so normal here, like she’d come home any second and yet, his ears were ringing ever since Price called.

The ashtray was dirty with whatever was left of her cigarettes. The milk wasn’t finished. He bought her new shampoo a few days ago. A charger wrapped in tape was still plugged to a wall.

He was deadly afraid to touch anything. It was like he’d cause her to dissapear completely, even though she was already gone. His conversation with Captain echoed in his mind from time to time.

,,I’m so sorry for you loss, L.T.”

,,…Was it at least quick?”

He spat the question out. He had to know she didn’t suffer. Price didn’t want to answer for a moment, then he heard a deep sigh.

,,…I’m sorry”

The response made his heart drop. He wished it just stopped, the same moment hers had. She died a long, painful death, alone somewhere on a mission. He might’ve as well been the one that killed her, because that’s how he felt anyway.

It was unimaginable. He really would never touch her skin again? Hear her voice? Touch her hair?

He looked at the stupid kitchen counter. She’d always sit up on it on the weekends and make his coffee right when she heard him wake up, so that whenever he came out of his room, his coffee was ready. How the fuck would he be able to make himself coffee ever again without her to drink it with?

A wave went over him, weakening his muscles. He finally broke when he noticed a strand of her hair one of the pillows. There were traces of her everywhere, like she purposefuly wanted to haunt him out of spite. Remind him of his horrible words.

The callendar marked 14th September. It was already the 16th, but the world stopped on the 14th. How dare did the world go on, when his froze. How did everybody just live without her? She’d miss out on so much. He wouldn’t be even able to tell her all about it. It wasn’t supposed to happen, not to her, his girl, the only one that he ever loved.

Her death wasn’t something he could just…move on from. He’ll stay there, in that very apartament, still drinking coffee, with her sitting on the counter. Charging their phones with a broken charger.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #x reader #ao3 #reader insert #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #grief #angst #no beta we die like men #death

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arcticwolfpaws · 16 days

Text

Chapter 8: School Daze

I have some news! after September my first post in October is going to be a new story based around The young justice

~~~~

As is going to be normal link to the Ao3 fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56481082/chapters/143531686

I took a deep breath, as I stepped out of the class room I was waiting to be grabbed by the boy I broke the nose of however instead I found Tom waiting for me.

“Hey, Faraj!” He chirped walking up to me, I waved not really sure what to make of him being there.

“Oh.. ummm hi I guess.” I mumbled he smiled brightly at me before he spoke again,

“How did you sleep?” He asked, I gave him a small smile and he kept talking after I didn’t respond,

“Yeah I kind of thought you were on the shy side, I mean you’ve been here a few months and I haven’t seen you spend a long amount of time with anyone person.” He stated and I spotted Jason, he seemed to be watching us, he wasn’t joking about keeping an eye one me due to thinking I was up to something,

“Hey… umm tom?” I started and he was quick to correct me,

“Tim, it’s Tim. Oh and quick tip at a Gala or something and you can’t remember someone’s name avoid trying to use there name.” He chirped I paused and looked at him confused and startled, he just smiled at me before speaking.

“Where did that come from?” He gave me a soft smile at my question,

“Oh, After the Gala I watched your interview and you just called me Tom but Your dad said that you were knew to the hole life style, I’m sure being a Wayne child you’ve got some kind of etiquette tutor but I thought you might like the tip I’m sure you’ll be drug to all sorts of parties.” He put his hands behind his head

“Actually, Dad made a comment that I wasn’t going to be going to a bunch of parties as I need my rest and the lights might be to bright for me.” I told him, I mumbled something and the only reason I missed it was a sudden sharp noise that left me momentarily disoriented. It left me deaf for a moment as Tim pulled me along to the cafeteria. When my ears started working again the noise of everyone talking had me covering my ears,

“Whoa, hey are you okay?” I shook my head no and Tim drug me back out of the room and to the bathroom, I could think there and I sat on the floor under the sink, in a corner as I calmed down my head between me knees.

“You can go eat.” I told him but he shook his head,

“Not happening, we’re friends and friends don’t leave friends to get picked on in the bathroom, I snorted and but jumped as the bathroom door was aggressively thrown open, my head slapped the under side of the sink, I whined and grabbed my head,

“Why aren’t you a-” Jason cut himself off as he spotted me and Tim, he sighed heavily before sitting down with us.

“Alright what’s going on… besides him hitting his head.” He asked looking more to Tim then myself, I was fine with that as I was far to busy holding my head.

“I’m not sure the bell went off he seemed off balance after that and it got even worse when I got him to the cafeteria.” Tim stated, I really couldn’t explain if I did they’d know I was meta and I had heard what father had thought of them… of me.

“Faraj?” he asked and I hesitated, I didn’t know what to say but Tim spoke again,

“He was holding his ears.” I heard Jason sigh heavily before he moved.

“Stay here.” He stated pointedly as he walked off not slamming the door open this time, I glanced at Tim and he seemed just as confused as I was.

“What do you think he’s doing?” He asked softly and I shrugged,

“If I’m being honest I was convinced that he didn’t like me.” I told Tim I knew he didn’t trust me but I wasn’t expecting him to help me with something, when he came back he had something in his hand.

“When We get home I’ll talk to Dad, about getting you some kind of pass so the school doesn’t get bitchy about this.” He knelt next to me and held his hand out palm down, I slowly reached out and let him drop it in my hand, I quickly realized that they were ear plugs.

“I noticed you didn’t handle the bell before but I never thought it was this bad.” He stated end got up,

“Get something to eat both of you.” He stated pointedly, I quickly put the ear plugs in and Tim Glanced at me,

“Do you know sing language?” He asked and I nodded.

“Yeah why?”

“So, We can talk.” He chirped, Right he couldn’t know that I could hear him just fine. We got lunch and while still obnoxiously loud, the cafeteria was tolerable now. I sat with Tim and Bernard. Tim explained what happened and the two of them started talking in sign, it felt odd why were they doing this? They barely knew me there was no point in this and yet… here they where. It reminded me of Roy when we met he always spoke quietly for me.

“I know this might be a bit of a dumb question but, who are the worst of the worst that the batman deals with?” I asked and they both seemed to be completely invested in telling me all about the joker, killer crock and a victor zsasz before getting into an heated discussion on weather or not someone called two face was, the came to the likely hood that yes he was, they then add… a bird? I really wasn’t sure what a penguin had anything to do with crime and someone called black mask.

As we were walking to our next class we were stopped, Tim looked unnerved but I simply frowned at the bi-

“Mr Wayne.” He tone was sharp and angry, she eyed me for a moment while I racked my brain as to what I might have done to anger her.

“You are not permitted to have ear plugs, during school hours.” she stated firmly, and held out her hand to me as if expecting me to give her something, it took me a moment to realize that she wanted.

“If you’re suggesting that I give you the ear plugs that my brother has given me then I will remind you that, taking something unwillfully is a crime and I will not have my brother’s items stolen from me.” I stated pointedly she looked like she wanted to ring my neck but I stayed calm giving her a flat look.

“As a teacher I am allowed to confiscate anything I see fit.” I had to bite back a comment about her age and likely sight poorer then my own,

“Yes but I am not willing to hand it over and that would make it theft.” I pointed out and began to walk away only to have her grab me, I had to fight my muscle memory, to not throw her over my shoulder and pin her to the floor, however she practically ripped the ear plug out of my ear before grabbing the other one and storming off before I had time to recover from the sudden shock of volume.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked putting his hand on my shoulder, I took a deep breathe before nodded,

“I’ll be alright… mostly.” I muttered the last part I sighed as we kept walking,

“Mostly?” He asked, tilting his head as we walked to our classes they were close to one another something that I was starting to think wasn’t that bad.

“Well… honestly? That was the first nice thing that Jason has done.” I stated and my eyes looked down before sighing,

“When it comes to miss Drees, I don’t think anyone can fault you for that.” He stated and I shook my head not sure that I could get away with that.

“I don’t know… Jason has never really seemed to like me.” I told him and Tim frowned before sighing,

“Sorry man… hey this is my class let’s talk later,” he stated before walking off and I sighed and walked the rest of the way to my class.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

I didn’t bump into Tim again, instead after classes I was cornered by a pair of 4 older boys. Why did I have a very bad feeling about this,

“I… umm How can I hel-” I squeaked as two of them picked me up, Do I fight back? No probably not that might cause problems, as I was lifted I noticed one of the boys had a bandied over the bridge of his noise and a cast on his wrist. Oh…. This was some kind of revenge wasn’t it?

“Shit…” I grumbled as I struggled kicking my legs and trying to pull my hands free, How problematic is this going to be? I wondered as I struggled and kicked, as I was carried to the side of the school. Do I yell? I’ve never had to worry about this, Normally I just fight off any attackers,

“Are you going to say anything or ju-” I was suddenly dropped but I had fallen more then I should have and when I stopped I landed hard my head slapping against the ground and I heard what sounded like a crunch, I froze but the only thing that hurt was my head, so slowly I sat up my head spinning as the one boy yelled.

“Let’s see if the Killer crock likes whine kids.” The one boy snapped before his buddies closed the man whole locking me in darkness while feeling light headed.

“Fuck me.” I hissed and searched for my glasses in the darkness ignoring the wet feeling that was dripping down the side of my head, I frowned as I got my glasses an arm had been broken off,

“Should have kicked there asses.” I grumbled, before slowly getting up making my head throb and forcing me to take a wide stance to avoid wobbling. I let out a squeak allowing me to ‘see’ a decently large hall empty of anything and completely closed off…

“Well, If I stay here I’ll starve guess I have to look for some kind of storm drain or something.” I mumbled shaking my head. Oh… oh I should not have done that, I rubbed my head as I walked letting out small squeaks to ‘see’ through the darkness. I walked until I heard a low rumble, I only paused for a moment not wanting to give what ever it was the chance to realize I knew it was there. Please, please, please don’t be some kind of sewer cat. I mentally begged before a low but shockingly gentle voice spoke,

“You’re bleeding.” I spun to face the voice but stumbled due to my head throbbing, there was a low growl before it spoke again the voice still low but just as kind.

“What happened?” A large hand gentle steadied me, it felt rough like it was covered in callouses. I hesitated for a moment before speaking softly, suddenly feeling strangely shy.

“I umm brought it on myself.” I mumbled but he growled lowly,

“I doubt that.” he gently started nudging me in one direction making sure that he didn’t push to hard and make me fall.

“No one need thrown in the sewers with me.” I paused for a moment realizing who I was talking to but I let him lead me, even as my hear began to pound in my chest.

“Y-you don’t seem that bad,” He snorted as he kept pushing me along, We came to a dimly light room but with out my glasses I couldn’t make much more then the orange light out. He sat me down on what felt like a broken chair and moved my hair away from the wound.

“Are… Are you Waylon Jones?” I asked and there was a deep growl however I was starting to doubt it was an actual growl.

“You going to tell me what happened?” He asked I frowned and thought for a moment.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.” He huffed before letting out a low chuckle, I heard water drop to the concrete at an irregular pattern.

“Alright kid you have yourself a deal.” he stated as he pressed something cold to my head.

“Before spring break… I was with someone… I think they had kept me drugged with something a lot of stuff is fuzzy, but I broke someone’s nose and wrist. They threw me down here as some kind of revenge.” He paused for a moment taking the cold cloth away.

“Why didn’t you fight them off this time?” He asked and I shrugged,

“It’s…. Well… the man that took me in seems very nice, Dna test says he’s my father but… I don’t want to cause trouble and the other kid he has seems to dislike me on some level, so I was just wanting to keep my head down, Honestly I was hoping they would just I don’t know kick me a few times and leave it at that not drop me down a man hole.” he paused for a moment letting out a low growl for a second before he spoke,

“Yes I’m Waylon Jones. And you should have fought. Your safety is worth more then some rich assholes image.” I blinked, I was about to ask how he knew my father was rich but then again I was in a likely dirty now school uniform. I felt him press something to my skin that stuck there and when I reached up to touch it he grabbed my hand.

“Leave it alone.” I slowly put my hand down, I kinda liked this guy.

“You’re nice.” I stated and all sounds of movement stopped I could still hear his heart beat but didn’t say anything.

“Watch it or I’ll eat you.” He growled and I hummed,

“On the contrary I don’t think you will despite the nickname.” I stated and he growled lowly I stood up pulling my broken glasses out, I could see were the croc part of the nickname came from.

“How about I bring you a sandwich or something tomorrow?” I offered and he snapped his jaws at me like he thought it would scare me but I just tilted my head that caused my glasses to fall off.

“Shit.” I mumbled and squeaked to find them but instead found a large hand reaching out to them,

“Fine, but don’t get yourself in trouble on my behave.” He stated handing me my glasses back I smiled at him as I took them.

“Alright!” I chirped. He lead me to another man hole pushing it open with ease the light was blinding but I had dropped my bag in the struggle and didn’t have my sun glasses.

“Whe-” He cut me off as he picked me up lifting me as high as he could.

“Next to G.C.P.D, Go inside and Ask for Jim Gordon.” He stated as I grabbed the ledge and pulled myself up, I knew that name wait from where? I turned back only to realize the noise of the near by cars had hidden the sound of the man hole closing.

“Thanks.” I mumbled anyway, as I stumbled a little to find the door, I walked in and a woman spoke sounding bored,

“Look kid we don...” She trailed off. I think the lights in here were worse then outside as I had to close my eyes, Gotham’s cloudy day had certainly helped while I was outside.

“Can I tal-” She cut me off, great was everyone just going to be rude today? Honestly I didn’t feel like dealing with this shit,

“Jim? I the uhh Wayne boy he…” I knew that I wasn’t supposed to hear the other side especially from the door.

“Yes, Yes I know he’s missing Mr Wayne was quite upset and I have several men who’s only job right now is to find him.” I knew that voice it was the same one form the Gala, I perked up.

“Yes I know but he just walked in…”

“He What? Why didn’t you say that sooner send him up here this instant.”

“Yes sir I’ll bring him up right now.” I was sure he turned his attention to me, and I heard her heels click on the tiles, I winced at the sound.

“Come on sweet heart.” she said gently and I felt her grab my hand and gently pull me along, I followed her she walked slowly for me but I couldn’t see due to the lights, I tripped on some kind of rise and the woman spoke.

“Didn’t you see the step dear?” she asked me helping hold me upright. I shook my head shaking my glasses off and she picked up that too before.

“It’s to bright hurts my eyes.” She paused as she placed my glasses on my face before speaking again.

“Alright well we’re about to go up some stairs.” she warned and I nodded like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world seeing as I tripped on them, as we walked up them she was moving frustratingly slowly but once we walked down a hall and a door opened the I could instantly tell the room was much darker, I blinked open my eyes and saw Mr Gordon. He looked upset, Was it something I had done? Was he mad at me?

“What happened son?” He asked gently, as he walked up as He walked up I looked up causing me to realized that the main light in the room was shut off.

“Oh… some of the kids tried to feed me to Killer croc… It didn’t work.” I stated and the mans frowned deepened, I guess that was better then telling him that I liked Croc.

“I called your father, He’s on the way and I’ll be talking to him about pressing charges.” He stated firmly.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Bat files

Name: Waylon Jones

Age: 25

Waylon is troubled, But I also know him well enough to not see his as a threat, mostly he's just trying to survive and it's not uncommon to see him in under ground fighting rings however if he sees a child in danger he's made it a point to help them or ask me for help. I wasn't sure about this the first time he did it however it's become a pattern so despite what school children around Gotham think the sewers are a death sentence it's likely one of the safer places to be, the biggest risk is getting lost

#batfamily #batman #tim drake #killer croc #jason todd #jason is a good big brother #albino #dc fanfic #batman fandom #fanfic #wrighting #batdad #batkids #bruce wayne #dc robin #dick grayson

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ladylooch · 10 months

Text

Begin Again - [Anthony Beauvillier]

A/N: First off, thank you for requesting someone new! It always pushes me as a writer and I love how detailed this request is! It helped guide me to this achey, beautiful love story below. Second, thank you to the answers and DMs I received to help me learn more about Tito! It helped me get a clear vision of him as a character. Could not have done this with out you! Third, this has been a long time coming! Thank you for your patience. I hope you love it!

Word Count: 2.7k

A white hot heat has settled into the crook of your elbow as you stand behind your soon to be sister-in-law. Your brother is tearfully saying his vows to her. You should be crying. You should be focused on the words he is promising to help him uphold in times of trouble.

Instead, the leftover touch of Anthony Beauvillier haunts you.

How could you both have thought you could pretend to still be in love? Well, you weren’t pretending. But he was. The leaver. The “we need to talk” from three weeks ago. Those weren’t your words. The were his. And just like his touch, they haunt. In the middle of the night. When you’re on your way to work. When you picked him up from the airport and both agreed you would pretend to still be together. You both wanted your brother to be happy. Anthony is his childhood best friend and he’d kill Tito if he knew what had happened in New York three weeks ago.

But what did happen? You were barely sure yourself.

All you knew is being with Anthony used to be so easy. Then it became unstable and lit on fire. Then it was at your feet in ruins before you could even grab the extinguisher to try to save it. Personally, you want to blame Lou Lamoriello. Isn’t it his fault for trading your ex boyfriend? Because everything was difficult after Anthony was traded.

And when the season ended, those difficulties followed you around. What were you supposed to do? He didn’t seem to want you with him in Vancouver. Even when you visited, he was distant and distracted. This man that you once knew like your favorite shirt because a stranger.

He pulled the plug. He asked for space. You gave it to him. He went back home. You stayed in New York in the apartment he had until September.

“You can stay as long as you need.” He had told you, not looking at your face because he couldn’t stand the tears glistening down your cheeks in the afternoon sun.

“I don’t want to stay here.” You had bubbled through those tears. He nods.

“Until you get back from home then.” He gives a curt nod, licking his lips. “I’m here for a couple more days to tie up some things.” Like us? You can’t help but cry harder. “Mat said I could stay with him.” Your heart breaks all over again. Mat Barzal already knew? God, that makes it so real.

“You deserve so much better.” His heartbreaking whisper were the last words before he shut the door to leave.

But you didn’t want better. You wanted him.

Now here he was, standing across the other side of the aisle while your brother kissed his new bride. You come too, pulling your gaze away from Anthony to focus back on the love. You cheer with the rest of the crowd, then hand your new sister-in-law her gorgeous bouquet of white roses. Your smile is fake, you can feel it in the tight pinching of your cheeks. But it passes well enough.

You haven’t even recovered from his touch when you first walked down the aisle together, now his haunting is coming for your other arm. You smile, like you’re so sickeningly in love with each other. Anthony smiles back too. Only you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. Then you turn back towards the aisle where the photographer is taking pictures.

You pray the tears in your eyes pass as happy as you walk by your parents.

- - -

Without alcohol, this night would have gone to shit immediately after the ceremony. Your new sister-in-law greeted you with her first words being “You and Tito are next!” You swayed in her arms at the painful reality of how untrue that is going to be. Anthony heard it too and he reached out to you for a moment, squeezing your hand in acknowledgement. You had ripped your hand away, unable to stand his comfort when he was the one who did this to you.

But then your good friend vodka found it’s way into your cup. And you forgot. Anthony found beer. And the alcohol took the painful edge off everything. You started talking. You laughed together. You told embarrassing stories of your brother together. It felt like normal and you chased that buzz with drink after drink until you found yourself in the bathroom, looking at your drunk reflection.

What are you doing, you wonder to yourself.

You watch your teeth tuck your bottom lip into your mouth. You swallow shakily, reaching for your glass and downing the rest of your drink too.

This is going to hurt you in the morning. Are your inner thoughts about the alcohol or him?

Either way, you brush those thoughts to the side. It feels so good to pretend, to step out of the crunching heartache even if it is only for a few hours. You get to live in this other world, the one you wish you still had, where it makes sense when he brushes his fingers along your shoulder with his hand draped across the back of your chair. You shiver now in the cool bathroom, like he’s right there with you still, touching you, soothing your broken heart temporarily.

Your heels clack against the tile as you leave the bathroom, coming face to face with Anthony. You pull in a deep breath that raises your shoulders. He smiles gently, then glances over his shoulder to see if anyone is around. You’re alone.

“Are you doing okay?” His face is sincere, concerned. You refuse to believe it is pity.

“Yeah. Great!” You respond brightly.

“Okay. Um, they are insisting on playing our song.” You freeze. “I tried to play it off, but your brother is not listening. They literally have the DJ ready for the second we walk in.” If you never heard "My Best Friend” by Tim McGraw ever again, it would be too soon. You’re not sure you can do this. “I’m so sorry. This was dumb.” He whispers, seeing the way your face shatters at the mere thought of dancing with him to this song with what you are now. The song you always knew would be your first dance song.

“Yeah, but we are committed.”

“Maybe we should just tell them. Stop the whole thing…” The last thing you want to do is have the stabbing pain of heartbreak return. So your drunken self pushes you right along to just go with it a little longer.

“No, let’s tell them tomorrow. Like we planned.” He nods, looking over his shoulder at the large event space that seemingly awaits for us. “What do you want to do?”

“Dance with you one more time.” You respond quietly. Your fingers meet his, lacing together in the way you always appreciated- with perfect weight and grip. Anthony stares back at you, his gorgeous blue eyes drinking in your beautiful face. You think, for a moment, that he might lean in towards your face. His free fingers come to tuck a stray curl behind your ear. Then he cups your cheek for a moment before leading you into the room.

The gentle stroking of guitar strings greets you both immediately. You smile to your family who is eagerly watching your approach.

“I hope y’all aren’t going to make us dance alone.” You tease easily. Anthony looks at you in awe as he leads you into his body to begin to sway back and forth.

“You’re so good at this.”

“Being an NHL girlfriend meant a lot of pretending.” He nods, knowing all the ways you’ve stood by his side the last few years, even if it was difficult for you with the spotlight.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You were always worth it.” You murmur, tears in your eyes. Anthony sees them, frowning deeper. He tugs you into his body, encouraging your head to rest against his.

You feel every inch of his hand at the small of your back. Your eyes close as he uses it to pull you close. Then you both move together again like you have hundreds of times before. It’s almost like nothing is different. You lean your head into his, feeling the smoothness of his jaw against your temple. Your eyes closed as he sighs, turning his face into your hair. You can feel the inhale of him taking in your perfume. The one he picked out years ago on a shopping spree in New York. A lifetime ago now.

I fall in love all over every time I look at you

I don't know where I'd be without you here with me

Something about this song makes his touch different. It’s more consuming. His finger prints press deeper into the exposed skin of your back. You breathe in the scent of him, wanting to memorize this memory no matter how much it will hurt later.

“Ant..” You murmur, feeling him shudder as he sucks in a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

“No. This all feels like a mistake.” He whispers back.

“I know. I miss you.” Your respond.

Life with you makes perfect sense, Tim McGraw sings as Anthony’s lips brush against your cheek.

“You look so beautiful tonight. Took my breath away when I saw you earlier.” His hand presses you tighter more. You turn your face towards his. He makes the move, brushing his lips against yours, testing your acceptance. Your face crumples as you place your hand on his cheek.

“Kiss me like this is it.” He doesn’t hesitate, bringing your faces together again. Every stroke of his lips cracks any repair that’s been done to your heart. But fuck, it feels so worth it to have this with him. His tongue strokes against your bottom lip, then nudges between your teeth, melding with yours.

“Baby.” He whispers, briefly pulling away for air.

It feels so easy right now. Drunk on vodka and champagne with a room saturated by how easy it is to be in love when both people try. All the struggles, the distance, the ache, the impermeable walls are non-existent. So is the reality that he is no longer yours.

Because he doesn’t kiss you like it’s the last time. He kisses you like this it’s all beginning again.

“I’m leaving for Vancouver tomorrow. Come with me? I don’t want this to be it. I don’t want to give up on us. I want to try again. Harder. The way you deserve.” His nose rests to the side of yours. His fingertips press into the back of your head, ruining the remaining, lopsided curls. You can still taste the beer from his mouth in yours.

“How about you tell me that tomorrow morning? When it isn’t like this…” He sighs, stepping back, looking rejected. “And I’ll get on that plane with you.” You drunkenly agree. He looks down at your face, buzzed off beer, with slightly blood shot eyes. He closes his eyes as the song fades out.

“Give it up for Y/N and Anthony!!! The next couple to get married!” The DJ bellows.

You and Anthony stare back at each other, unmoving and unable to pretend any more.

“You are right. When it isn’t like this… I will go.” He steps backwards. It feels familiar. You startle, feeling tears prick your eyes at his sudden retreat. The walls close in as he takes another step back.

“Ant.” You sound desperate, choking.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for what I have done, mon amour. I’ll see you.” His fingers drop from yours as he turns.

You call out for him. But Anthony is already gone.

- - -

A knock on your hotel room door the next morning may as well be against your actual brain. You startle against the soft, white pillow case, looking down at the mascara residue left behind. Drunk you didn’t seem to care about taking all your make up off. Combine that with the tears you cried and the black, inky mess looks like a war zone. You rub at your face then slowly push the covers back. You assume it’s your mother coming to scold you for running off suddenly last night.

It’s not.

Outside, looking as delectable as ever, is Anthony. You stare at him through the peep hole, feeling frustrated and really hungover. He holds two iced coffees in his hand and a brown paper bag is pinched in the middle of his pinter and middle fingers. He raises his fist to knock again, but you open the door to stop him.

“Hi. You ready, beautiful?”

“Is that a joke?” You mumble, squinting against the light of the hallway.

“No, we gotta get going. You may want to shower though.” His eyes stay locked on yours. You reach up, coming away with black flakes from under your eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” You hiss at him, despite your pounding head and thick, dry tongue.

“But you said-“

“Anthony.” You grumble. “My mouth feels like a cotton ball. My head hurts so fucking bad I wanna rip it off. And you walked out last night without any explanation! I don’t care what I said when I was drunk off my 11th vodka soda of the night. You left. Again!”

“Yeah, I left, so I could sober up and do this.” He gestures to him outside the room. Then he hands you a cup of coffee and a croissant. “You know the best croissants go early here. I was waiting outside at 6 am for this.” He points to the logo for The Patisserie, your favorite place in your hometown. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t want this to be it. I want you to come with me today. I’m so sorry about how things ended and what I did to us, babe. I love you so much. It was never about that. It just got so hard; I was so lost, felt like I had lost everything I knew. I didn’t know what to do. Then you were slipping away from me too.”

Oh, how true that felt to you now. How you tried to hold on to him tighter but felt him slipping through your fingers. You had seen how much he was struggling. You didn’t know what to do and you had some blame to share in the distance that was created.

“Where would we go today?” You murmur.

“Vancouver. To find our new place.” You stare at him, the hangover clouding your brain but none of the shock on your features. Move to Vancouver with him? “You said tell me that in the morning and I’ll go. So here I am, telling you in the morning. Will you go with me? I’m sorry it took me so long to ask, but I can’t live without you.”

If words can truly heal, those did it for you.

You’re not even thinking, which is why you drop the coffee and the pastry at your feet, staining the carpet in the process as the cold liquid leaks out from the plastic cup. Your arms are around his neck, crashing his face down to yours. The kiss is beautiful, full of love and greedy need and wandering hands as he grips your ass to lift you into his arms.

You still have more to discuss, like why he gave up when things got hard, the way it hurt when he did what he did, and how you’ll both double down on the commitment this time because you know how awful life is without each other.

But in the meantime, a plane is leaving for Vancouver from Montreal in two hours and you’re going to be on it with Anthony Beauvillier.

#Anthony beauvillier x reader #NHL imagine #hockey writing #my writing #vancouver canucks #nhl fan fiction

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