#HE'S FROM THE VERY HEART OF THIS DAMN MENTALITY AND WE NEVER GOT IT so yep ROBERT FOR SUPERMAN SOUNDS LEGIT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawhbrrries · 6 months

Text

Movement

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: a double date that leads to mike schmidt coming home with you in the name of "helping your friend" and he ends up fucking you.

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, creampie??, female pronouns, slight degrading??, pet names, heavy cussing, mike being hashtag v hot, no established relationship, porn with no plot, not proofread

word count: 2.1k words

author’s note: listen to movement by hozier for the full experience!!! I know this fic wasn't voted to be the first mike one to be posted but I had to do it okay!!!! he's so hot n sexy in this and i need him badly...please enjoy! mwah!

Your eyes scanned the restaurant in front of your car, you were promised a very nice dinner with a very nice man and the place you ended up might as well have been a denny’s. Gia somehow managed to rope you into a double date and as the amazing friend you are, you obliged. Now, you wanted to take it back. If the guy you were set up with wasn’t just an absolute heartthrob you might consider strangling her in the bathroom.

“Gia, this better be the best damn food and the hottest men you have ever experienced or I’m never doing you another favor ever again.” You teased, getting out of your car as she walked up to it.

“I swear he said this place was nicer! Thank you so much babes, I owe you one!” She responded, slipping her arm inside of yours to walk inside. “Maybe the inside is really nice and it’s just a shady exterior.”

You’d never seen the man Gia was seeing tonight so when the two of you arrived at the table you weren’t sure which man was yours, but you knew which one you wanted. He looked gentle, shaggy hair untamed almost like he wasn’t prepared to go on a date tonight.

“I suppose I’m your date.” He smiled softly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. “I’m MIke, you look uh, really beautiful tonight.”

After the introductions and small talk the two of you hit it off right away, it helped that Gia and her date were more interested in each other than remembering that the people they brought also existed. The more you talked the more Mike came out of his shell, he wasn’t as shy as you first pegged him to be. Your heel was slowly caressing his calf, neither of you were quite sure when it had ended up there but he wasn’t complaining.

“A man in uniform is hot.” Your flirting was a little rusty, but it seemed to be working just fine for you.

“It’s just a security gig.” He shrugged it off, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time.

You grabbed the straw of your drink, wrapped your tongue around it, and took a sip. Mike choked slightly but covered it up with a cough, adjusting his pants under the table at the same time.

“She’s not going to go home with him unless I go home with you.” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over the table, tangling your fingers in his hair to trick Gia into thinking you were whispering something dirty. “I’d really like to go home with you.”

You could feel the heat creep up his neck, his face was flushed. His heart might as well be on the outside of his chest with the intensity that it was beating, it’d been a long time since he’d been on a date or even gotten laid but Abby was at home and that just wouldn’t work.

“Uhm, my sister’s at home, can we go to your place?” Mike’s saliva was thick and pooling in his mouth, it felt almost impossible to swallow. He had to be dreaming, this just didn’t make sense otherwise. He was just doing his friend a favor and now your breath was hot on his neck and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.

The second the two of you walked outside he got fidgety, like he was going to take off the second you let go of his hand. Frankly he was surprised you hadn’t let go of it the second you picked it up, he was dripping sweat from the moment he realized you were his date. He quickly made a mental note to send a letter to the company who made his preferred deodorant, the fact that he didn’t smell absolutely putrid spoke volumes on their product.

“So did you mean what you said inside? Because I’m perfectly okay with just going home.”

“I meant it, don’t be so nervous.” You smiled back at him, handing him the keys to your car.

The tension was thick, his knuckles were white as he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead and making it back to your place safely and not the fingers drawing figures on his thigh as you spoke about something he couldn’t quite grasp.

Your place wasn’t too far from the restaurant that Gia’s date had picked, that Mike was thankful for. The longer he had to endure the torture that was your fingers on this thighs, the less his ability to be a gentleman and control himself existed. If it was up to him, he’d probably just pulled over and fucked you in the backseat of your own car but it wasn’t. He was a gentleman, he’d just met you all of a few hours ago, he knew better.

“This is the place.” You smiled softly as he pulled into your driveway.

“It’s nice.” He stated, handing your car keys back to you and taking your hand. “Suits you.”

Mike’s eyes wandered the walls, taking in every aspect of you, as you led him through the house. It didn’t take him long to notice that you lived alone, another thing he was now thankful for. His fingers trailed the zipper of your dress as he stood behind you in your bedroom, his other hand rubbing your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Are you going to take it off?” Your voice was shaky and quiet, for the first time tonight you were nervous.

“And you thought I was the eager one.” He chuckled, tugging your hair back softly to give him just enough access to your face to make eye contact with you. “Do you get off on bringing strangers to your home and having them fuck you?”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, blessing the ears of the man behind you who responded with a groan. His lips made contact with your neck, biting and sucking at any of the skin he had access to. The hand that was holding your hair back made itself busy drawing the zipper of your dress further and further down until it couldn’t go any further, you shivered as the cold air hit your back.

Mike detached himself from your neck and took a step back, briefly admiring how disheveled you looked despite still being fully dressed, he made a quick motion for you to turn around and you obliged almost immediately. If you got his dick any harder it might’ve fallen off before he ever got the chance to use it.

He backed you into the bed, laying you down and sliding your dress off and into a pile on the floor. Another deep groan was emitted into the air as he took in the sight in front of him, you hadn’t worn a bra and the underwear you’d chosen left nothing to the imagination. Mike immediately started thanking whatever god was above for you and the experience he was about to have.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping with anyone tonight but then you saw him and your entire plan was flipped upside down. You lied about your friend not going home with her date if you didn’t leave with him, you didn’t want him to think you were desperate but he knew now. The second he touched the zipper of your dress, anything left of your facade was gone. You needed him.

“If you weren’t so fucking wet I would’ve thought you were only doing me a favor.” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing his finger over your folds through your underwear. “ Or maybe you’re just a whore? Huh?”

“For you.” You choked out, words getting caught in your throat over his words.

At the beginning of the night you would’ve placed money on the fact that he wasn’t capable of things like this, it was like another side of him had come out during the drive to your house. You weren’t complaining, his words were getting to you in a way you’d never experienced.

“Yeah? For me? Mikey’s own personal whore.” He slipped your underwear to the side and slid his finger through your folds, collecting your juices and bringing them to his mouth. “You’re as sweet as you look, need a honey jar full of you.”

You cried out at him softly, trying to use anything you had to stop his teasing. He was winding you up but edging you right before you could pop, he could’ve said anything and you would’ve agreed just to get him to fuck you. Being this desperate for a man you hardly knew was an exhilarating experience.

“Please, I need you.” You whined, grabbing at his shirt in a desperate plea. “Please.”

“Good job using your words, pretty girl.” Mike praised, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, throwing them in the same pile as your dress.

His clothes soon joined yours on the floor, a small pout emerging when you realized you wouldn’t be able to suck him off, his eyes catching yours as he climbed up your body. He kissed his way up, biting occasionally. Fingers tracing your skin just as you had done to him earlier in the night, lighting a fire on your skin as they went. It was like his body was made to fit yours, like your souls had searched for each other through every lifetime and yet this was the first time they had met.

His lips finally met yours for the first time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away to breathily whisper something in your ear. You shook your head in agreement at whatever he said, as long as he kept touching you like that and making noises in your ear you’d agree to anything he said to you.

Shaking your head yes was the best decision you’d made so far, you felt two fingers slip inside of you. Thrusting for a few moments before they were replaced by the tip of his cock, slowly pushing in as his mouth found one of your nipples. The gentle man you had once perceived had been replaced by a god who was hung like a horse, splitting you in half with the cock fit for a god.

“Fuck.” Mike moaned, tipping his head back when he bottomed out, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. “So good, pretty girl.”

Anything you had planned on responding with quickly dissipated the second he pulled out and thrusted back in, a low groan coming out insead. His fingers were digging into your thighs as he held them up where he wanted them, all you could hope for was the imprints bruising as a reminder that this actually happened. What hair that wasn’t sticking to his skin from the sweat covering it was dangling backwards freely, all his focus was on not cumming too soon and if he continued to look at you he definitely would.

Your eyes had glossed over a long time ago, tears streaming down the sides as a byproduct of the blissful state his cock had put you in, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets and your tits bouncing with each thrust. He was once again praying to every god that he would get to do this another time, then he could sear the image of you under him into his mind.

“Mike, Mikey I need..” You whined, the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, threatening to spill before you could even finish a coherent thought.

“C’mon pretty girl, you can do it, let it go.” He praised you, bringing his thumb down to your clit and drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts to help your orgasm spill over.

His words were the final piece in the puzzle, your orgasm hitting you soon after he spoke. Legs shaking, mind blowing, tears, and silent moans was all your body could do at the supernova your orgasm had proved to be. You’d never cum this hard before but if every orgasm after didn’t measure up, he had ruined you.

“You did so good.” Was all you heard as you came down from your high, Mike’s hands soothed down your hair as he whispered into your ear.

His thrusts continued at the same pace for only a few seconds before his hips stuttered and he painted your insides white.

“I guess tonight wasn’t a total waste.” You joked quietly, turning to the side to smile at him as he laid down next to you.

“We need to do this more often.”

#maddies fics #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt imagine #vanessa afton #steve raglan #fnaf mike #william afton #michael schmidt #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #fnaf 2023 #fnaf smut #fnaf

8K notes · View notes

yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

Note

So, here is my humble request 👀:

Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.

When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.

Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.

So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.

I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻

Would That I -- Part 1

A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!

Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health

Word Count: 3,638

Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.

Part 2 Part 3

Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.

“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”

Rhysand cleared his throat.

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.

“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”

His brow furrowed.

“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.

“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.

You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.

You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.

---

In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.

You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.

He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.

“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.

“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.

---

As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.

Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.

He loosed a breath.

“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.

“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Is Cass--?”

“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.

“Ok.”

Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.

“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”

You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.

“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”

You scoff.

“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”

Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.

“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”

Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.

“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.

Rhysand sighed.

“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”

---

It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.

You sat up worried.

“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”

“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”

You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.

“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.

You snuggled up to your eldest brother.

“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”

Azriel tucked you under his arm.

“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.

---

Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.

He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.

Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.

“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.

“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”

Eris rolled his eyes.

“Just show me your plans, Ash.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.

“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.

In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.

He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.

It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.

When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.

Asher sighed,

“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.

“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.

“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”

“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.

“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”

“She is my mate.” Eris growled.

“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.

“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.

“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”

Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.

He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.

---

The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.

Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.

Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.

Disgust.

What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.

Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.

Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.

Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.

“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”

You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.

“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.

“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.

A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.

Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.

Would that you could be half as lucky.

Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.

---

There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.

“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.

“Eris will be there.” You said.

“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.

“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”

And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.

Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.

In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.

Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—

“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the magic word.”

“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.

A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...

1K notes · View notes

unfortunatebrainfarts · 1 month

Text

After working with your friendly neighborhood intergalactic space cowboy for quite some time, you've managed to become pretty damn good at understanding the gist of what he means to say

Boothill x reader

A/n: OK SO, first fanfic in like 6 years and it's for an intergalactic space cowboy

Tbh I have no idea why I wrote this, my ipad apps are constantly monitored by the teacher and I really have nothing better to do than go on my notes app and pretend I'm writing notes

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY = I HOPE YOU GET FUCKED BY THE IPC AND ROLL IN YOUR OWN DEBT AND SUFFERING (or something like that)

BLESS YOUR HEART = FUCK YOU

PRAY FOR ME = FUCK ME

LOVELY = FUCK

YOU WONDERFUL PERSON = YOU BITCH

Well ain't you just a sweetheart? = Well you're just a little bitchboy aren'tcha?

God love him = He was fuckin' underdeveloped as a fetus wasn't he (Something along the lines of 'he's dumb as shit')

"Hm. Seems about right."

To others, your furrowed brows, tense posture, and concentrated gaze at just one singular page of your notebook may make it seem as if whatever was on that page was something life changing. And honestly, they might as well have been right since you were one step closer to understanding what the hell Boothill was spitting out more than half the time.

You recall the first time you were assigned a mission with him — "BLESS YOUR HEART YOU WONDERFUL PERSON," cue you snapping your head towards the gruff voice seeing the cowboy in all his glory easily decimating the dozens of grunts in his vicinity with a toothy grin no less, which you note are very, very sharp.

His long, flowy hair caught your attention. How was it so white and clean even with all the fights you know gets into? Does it ever get yanked? What shampoo does he use?

"Now I don' mind some ooglin', but wouldn't ya say we should keep our eyes on our enemies darlin'?"

His voice snaps you out of your trance and you come to to a shovel nearing your head. You instinctively cover your face with your hands anticipating the pain, the pain which never came since when you put them down, you see that Boohill had already left a bullet in his head.

"Spacin' out at a space cowboy? Ain't that rich."

Ignoring the fact that he saved you from having to get facial reconstruction surgery, the reason you almost got a face full of shovel in the first place was because of the ridiculous curse on his synesthesia beacon.

That's why you've been devoted to trying to decode the albeit hilarious, rather inconvenient in a battle things he says. You've tried asking Boothill to write them down, but his handwriting could have him assigned as a doctor in no time so you gave up on that idea quite quickly.

"Whatcha starin' at so intently darlin'?

Your train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the man of the hour mindlessly snatching your notebook right out of your hands. "Aren't you supposed to stop thieves, not act like one," you ask half heartedly. It was nothing less of what you'd expect from Boothill of all people — no, cyborgs??

"Heh, this ain't thievery 's sharin'! Er, what's that one sayin' again... share to care, care to share, sharin' to carin'? Eh whatever ya get what I mean don'tcha sugar?" He retorted, you roll your eyes mentally as he put his focus back onto the notebook. To be honest you were surprised he could even read considering his handwriting was that bad.

As Boothill read each and every one of your 'translations', his grin only grew wider and wider showing the spiky teeth you don't know how are natural but have grown accustomed to seeing. Just then, a burst of unhinged laughter randomly filled the entire lounge room you were sitting in. The weird glances and whispering were already starting but Boothill didn't care, he was Boothill.

Not wanting to be associated with the man at that very moment, you stand up to leave him comically rolling on the floor. However, you couldn't even do that because the moment you stood up, Boothill snatched your leg and dragged it so that you would fall back down. This time, onto the floor with him. "Well ain't you something sweetcheeks, ya got me alll figured out huh?" .

It's been two months. Ever since Boothill realized that you had actually tried to figure out the true meaning behind his words — and actually got them relatively right — he's been using you to spew out insults overtime. Honestly it was like you had become a pokemon, you could just picture it in your head.

BOOTHILL BROUGHT OUT ____

____ USED SWEAR! IT WAS SUPER EFFECTIVE

Either way, it wasn't that bad since though you might be imagining things, it feels as if you've grown ever so slightly closer to the eccentric space cowboy.

You continue to observe boothill and add more and more onto your list of translations, but apparently you fail to notice that he no longer uses any casual pet names like 'darling' or 'sweetcheeks' anymore. At least, not for anyone but you.

#I'm actually gonna krill myself😭#please ignore any mistakes or awkward parts I wrote this in 30 minutes #you can tell I can't write any southern stuff I literally had to search up 'cowboy insults' and 'how to speak like a cowboy'#li actually writes🤯#boothill x reader #hsr x reader #boothill hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail

288 notes · View notes

hawkinstales · 3 months

Text

Where I Can't Follow — Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader

summary: the tale of two best friends, trying to navigate through their unresolve feelings for one another.

author notes: here we go, my first fic. this is a rewrite/redirection of a story I wrote a while ago. I didn't like it very much, feeling like it could be better. I decided to keep it in my drafts until I got my creativity back, and we are back baby. I hope you enjoy the first part of this story, and please let me know what you think.

He sat in lawn chair — arms crossed, muttering under his breath while his uncle chats with his friends. His argument was strong, but Wayne insisted thirteen was too young to stay home alone, thus dragging him across town to his buddies surprise party.

"You'll have fun, boy. Now quit yapping and get in the damn truck!"

Fun, ha. What a joke! A perfectly good Saturday — wasted. He could be at the arcade, trying to beat the high score in Space Invaders or sneaking into the movies to see the new Dawn of the Dead. Instead, he was stuck here, bored beyond belief.

He groans, loud enough to earn a knowing look from his uncle. He sighs, abandoning all hopes — his eyes close, slouching down in his seat, letting his mind drift away until the world eventually fades.

Eddie was nearly asleep when he heard it — this sweet, joyous, beautiful sound that was music to his ears. He leans up, scanning the yard, lips curving into a boyish grin.

The melody happens again — louder now, closer. The glass door slides open, stealing his attention in time to see you run out the house. His gaze follows you, watching you prance over to the man at the grill. Your father, he presumes.

You wore denim overalls — a baby blue shirt, matching the scrunchie around your wrist and a white cardigan tied at the waist. You were barefoot, and really pretty.

A rare type of pretty — damn near perfection. The kind of pretty that could awaken a young boy's heart, haunts him forever. Infects him, consumes him. It comes to him in your dreams, only to disappear as him wake up. You grow to miss it, crave it, search a thousand lifetimes for it. If you're lucky enough to find it, you pray to all the heavens you never lose it because nothing will ever compare.

His eyes stuck on you, lingering as you skip over to a tree covered in russet leaves. He'd later lean it's an oak tree, and that it was planted by your father when he was a boy. You sit down, legs crossed — back leaned against the rough bark. You open a book, flipping through the pages until you reach one with a folded corner.

Eddie stands to his feet, tongue darting out the side of his mouth. He looks down at his outfit, sweaty palms quick to tuck in his shirt. As Wayne says, a man must always look his best in the presence of a pretty lady.

He swallows his nerves, hyping himself to build up the courage he needs to introduce himself. It's now or never. He walks over to you, standing in front of you — only you're so lost in the book, you don't notice. He takes it as an advantage, noticing every detail even the smallest.

Like the small, faint scar on your forehead, nearly unnoticeable unless someone looks at you — really looks at you. How your eyes shimmer when the light reflects off them at just the right angle. How your brows furrow in concentration sometimes as you read and how you lick the tip of your finger when you turn every page.

"Are you going to tell me your name or just stare at me?"

He froze, eyes wide — cheeks flush pink. He stammers, looking down at his feet as he rubs the back of his neck. "Eddie, I um, I'm Eddie." He clears his throat, unable to look you in the eyes. "What's your name?" He ask, and you tell him yours.

"That's — That's a good name!"

He chews on his bottom lip, swaying on his feet and fidgeting with his jacket sleeve. He's unable to form words, mentally cursing to himself as Eddie just stares at you.

You just giggle, staring up at him through the your lashes. He laughs nervously, the collar of his shirt feeling extremely tight all of a sudden — he fidgets with the oversize ring on his finger.

By some miracle, fate seem to be on his side — his face lights up, catching a glimpse of the title of the book. "Lord of the Rings!" He beams, gesturing to it. "Which are you on?"

"The Two Towers, it's actually my favorite." You respond — voice delicate, looking down at your lap and tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

"That's my favorite, too!"

"Yeah!" You chirp, glancing back up at him. "Would you like to read with me?"

"Hell yeah I would!" Eddie doesn't waste a second, taking a seat next to you. The smile on your face stretches ear to ear, causing your nose to crinkle.

The two of you stayed under that tree for hours, taking turns reading and acting out your favorite parts. "Don't go where I can't follow." Eddie recites, eyes on you.

When reading grew tiresome, you resort to doodling. You challenged each other to a drawing contest — winner gets to draw a tattoo on the other, and that's how Eddie ends up with a daisy drawn on the back of his hand.

He asked you to go easy on him, give him something cool like bats or a dragon, but when you gave him that wicked grin — Eddie knew he was in trouble. He'd groaned, complaining the whole time about how daisies are so not metal.

You even made him hold up the back of his hand when your mother asked to take a picture of the pair of you. Truth is, he absolutely loved it — didn't wash his hands for weeks until eventually the tattoo vanished from his pale skin.

His uncle practically had to drag him out the door and to the truck as Eddie rambles about coming back as soon as he could. "If he won't bring me, I'll steal the truck!"

You stood in the doorway, nodding and laughing at his antics. Waving goodbye, the two of you wore matching smiles and longing in your eyes. Eddie kept his eyes train on the rearview mirror, watching your house disappear in the distance.

When he got home, he rushed to his room — almost knocking down Wayne in the process. He sits on the side of his bed, fingers gliding over the polaroid. Opening his bedside table, he takes out his copy of Lord of the Rings.

Page after page, he flips through the book until he reaches a specific page. "Don't go where I can't follow." He reads, reminiscing — a soft smile on his face, sighing Eddie closes the book.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #bestfriend!reader #*emseries #*emfics #where i can't follow

150 notes · View notes

lenathekiller · 8 months

Text

*~Filling the Loneliness~*

A Buggy x gn!reader

Tags: mix of angst, smut and fluff basically, a bit of voyeurism too

A/n: excuse mistakes I'm very rusty at writing but this damn clown has a chokehold on my mind. I wrote this with LABuggy in mind but it could fit Anime buggy as well tbh. The only derogatory word the user is called is sl*t and it's only used once.

Word count: 6683

It was just another day of work, managing the costume shop that you'd come to own somehow. It was a relatively good sized shop, selling a variety of clothing one might use for performances or wear to the masquerade themed parties the town held every week.

Your little costal town had been unofficially deemed a safe space for pirates to come dock without having to worry about being captured for bounty or fought off by other pirates. Hence why the town threw celebrations themed around casting aside one's identity to just enjoy a night of drinking and having fun without a worry for their own safety.

You never cared to attend the celebrations, instead using the time to do trivial tasks around the shop like checking inventory or working on new masks or makeups to sell. You were doing such right now infact.

Behind the counter you sat, working on some paperwork you needed to finish, calculating what had sold best this week compared to last week.

"Welcome in!" You called out when you heard the squeaking of the shop's old door opening, but did not glance up to check whom had come in. "I'll be with you in a moment, feel free to look around and let me know if you need any assistance finding what you need."

Footsteps approached the counter followed by the creaking of someone leaning against the counter across from you. "Actually doll you can help me, I came to get my usual order of things. So where's ole Petey?"

Keeping your eyes still glued to your papers you continued to work as you replied. "That old coot's dead. Died bout 3 weeks ago after drinking himself into a damn stupor and falling into the sea. So I'm in charge of this place now unfortunately, seeing as I was his only employee."

You heard a chuckle "That damn old man. I tried to warn him something would happen but I suppose he got what he deserves after partying too hard even at his old age."

"Got that right. Sure he was a good boss but the bastard drank more than any pirate that visits town." You scoffed finishing up your work and setting it aside. Finally looking up you instantly recognized the man before you. "Now how can I help- oh it's you."

The man stood up straight, fixing his coat proudly with a grin. "I see you know of the Great and flashy Buggy. Of course you would, I mean who wouldn't?"

Placing a hand on your hip as you stood from your seat, smiling back at the Clown pirate. "The boss never seemed to shut up about you, constantly talking about how you were his best customer.... amongst other things I'd rather not repeat."

His face fell a bit at your hinting of the old owner saying less than honorable things about him.

"Don't worry, I never took his rambling of you to heart. He was always a cranky drunkard who'd complain about anything or anyone he could." You reached over and patted Buggy on the shoulder reassuringly, before motioning to the backroom with a thumb. "Thankfully that man made notes about his regulars preferences so I'll be right back. Just gonna go grab em real quick so I can get you what you need without all the hassle of you having to explain your likes and dislikes of products to me."

The tall clown gave a nod, watching you disappear into the back of the shop. Taking the opportunity to glance around at the stock around him, mentally taking note of what had changed since he'd last been here about 3 months ago.

After a few minutes you returned holding his wanted poster, reading the scrawling of notes written on the back of it. "Let's see, looks like you prefer the typical Circus clown makeup, of course long lasting and as smudge proof as possible. Though we don't carry one of these brands anymore...-" You were deep in thought now mumbling as you moved around the shop grabbing the items noted on Buggy's preference sheet.

The said Clown Pirate stood leaning on the front counter, watching you zip around like a little mouse searching for all the usual products he buys. He had to admit you looked quite cute all worked up and focused on your job like that.

"The only thing we don't have from this list is the white face paint, but have no fear my good man for you're in luck." You placed down the small basket of products before him. You gave a small 'boop' to his nose with your finger before proudly crossing your arms. "I happen to make my own white face paint, and am willing to give you my latest batch if your interested."

"Oh really? And just what do you know about clown makeup little shop keep?" He asked you smugly, with a smirk

"A lot more than you think bozo. I was a mime for ten years, hence my fashion sense idiot." You gestured to yourself and your choice of clothing.

He admittedly hadn't really paid attention to what exactly you were wearing, more distracted by your actions and words. Though now he could see you were wearing black pants, that were doing wonders to make your thighs look great, and a oversized longsleeved striped black and white shirt, with some subtle mime makeup. "Huh. I hadn't even noticed."

You stood there silent for a second, before reaching up to pat his cheek a bit mockingly. "It's a good thing your attractive, cause you sure aren't that observant are ya bud?"

The man was thrown off guard at the fact you'd just complimented him, albeit also insulting him along with it. Usually he's the one being somewhat cheeky and flirty to others with no prevail, but here you were just casually complimenting him like it was nothing.

You moved back behind the counter, pulling a container of white paint, a handheld mirror, a few brushes as well as sponges, and a damp rag. "Well here let me show you just what I actually know about clown makeup."

Before Buggy could even process what was going on, you'd already snatched his head off his shoulders, now holding it between your hands. "Hey- Just what do you think your doing?!" He spat out at you in an annoyed tone, head already trying to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Take it easy hot stuff, you're too tall for me to do your makeup if your standing. I'm simply making this easier for both of us." You took a seat in your chair, laying Buggy's head on your lap between your thighs so he was facing upwards. "If you're a good boy who stays still I may even give you treat."

"Forward aren't we? Already putting my head between your legs and I've only just met you. I mean I know I'm flashy and all but I didn't realize I was having such an affect on you babe." He teases as the both of blush a bit at the position your in.

"Oh shut up, fool. Only in your dreams would your head actually be allowed between my legs in such a sinful manner." You cut off any reply he could give by begining to gently wipe the makeup off his face with the damp rag you'd pulled out previously. You made sure not to rub too hard as you scrubbed his face clean, though the red on his nose wasn't coming off at all.

He picked up on your confusion, rolling his eyes and sighing a bit annoyed. "That's not makeup sweetheart. My nose is just naturally big and red."

You smiled sheepishly. "Heh, sorry. I knew it was your natural nose I just didn't think it was naturally red as well."

"Yea yea, crack your jokes now about it so I don't have to hear them later" His eyes were looking elsewhere as he spoke, avoiding your gaze as much as he could.

You paused, looking into his eyes till he eventually gave in, making eye contact with you. "Why would I joke about something you can't control or change about yourself?"

"Cause everyone else does so why wouldn't you as well?" He stated matter of factly, while studying your gaze, seeing a flash of hurt for him in your eyes.

"Well, I'm not everyone else." Shifting your gaze to look at his nose for a second, and smiling faintly as you spoke. "In fact I think it's cute to be honest. Seeing it up close somewhat makes me want to give you a kiss right on it."

Buggy was well and truly lost for words now, just a blushing mess that was forced to look right at you. You just let him stay like that, giggling softly at his cheeks that seemed to be almost as red as his nose, before you finally gave him some sort of mercy by applying new makeup to his warmed face. The both of you stayed silent during the whole thing, you concentrating on the paint you were applying to Buggy's face as his head laid there in your lap, him studying every inch of your face as you worked.

He had to admit he was trying to memorize every little detail of your face, from the color of your eyes, to every little twitch of your lips while you focused, the way your tongue would poke out slightly and brow furrowed when you were painting thinner lines. He was trying to savor this moment while he could, knowing there was never a moment like this before nor would he ever possibly experience anything like this again. No one was or ever would treat him with such care and attention as you were currently, this truly was a once in a lifetime thing for him and he wanted to remember it forever.

Eventually you finished, putting down the paint brushes, and lifting the clowns head up in your hands to admire your masterpiece. A smile formed on your lips as you stood, moving to reunite Buggy's head to his body again and handed him the handheld mirror.

"Pretty good huh?" You spoke as he looked at your handy work.

You did the exact same look he had on before but there was a noticeable difference between his work and yours. His makeup had looked more messy and somewhat smudged before, as if he practically lived in it, where as now the lines were crisp and colors vibrant. He looked like a clown people would smile and laugh with, no longer one people feared instantly.

"Damn sweetheart, you're even better with your hands than I thought." He teased as he handed you back the mirror, giving you a wink and click of his tongue.

You winked back at him with a smirk. "Don't give me all the credit, I mean I had quite the attractive canvas to work with."

"You seem to really enjoy flattering me." His head cocked curiously at you "Or are you just this flirty with all your customers?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, starting to clean up the counter and repackage the products you used on him. "Nah, just you Buggy. I guess you could say I have a thing for clowns."

A floating hand grabbed your chin gently, guiding your gaze back to it's owner, whom was now leaning in dangerously close to your face. "Hmm, well too bad for you. I don't have a thing for chatty mimes."

He could have sworn your gaze had flicked to his lips for a moment before you licked your own, but he'd chalk it up to his desperately lonely mind imagining things. The hand let you go, reattaching itself as Buggy stepped back, away from the counter. You took a minute to snap back to reality, then went back to packing up his order.

The pirate began to roam a little, looking at all the different costumes and masks you had displayed around the shop. Maybe he could get a few new outfits for some of the crew before they all head back out to sea in a few days. Hell maybe he'd get himself a new flashier coat too, one that would really wow the audience when he makes his grand entrance every night.

"Got everything you need packed up and ready for you. Did you want to get anything else?" Your voice pulling him from his thoughts and luring him back over to you.

"Was thinking bout a new coat, something flashy, but I'll hold off till tomorrow on that." He spoke, pulling out a few coins to pay you with.

"Oh good! So I will get to see you again." A smile formed on your lips as you took the payment and slid the box of merchandise over to him.

"Of course! I would never deny a fan from seeing my greatness up close in person." He takes a dramatic bow towards you, before placing one hand over his heart. "What kind of performer would I be if I did such a thing?"

You just laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head a bit.

He grabs the box off the counter and headed to the door, turning to bid you farewell. "You've been a wonderful audience, but it's time for me to take my grand exit unfortunately."

"Farewell Captain Buggy. I'll be waiting patiently till your next performance." You give a small round of applause for him as he leaves.

You stand there for a minute or two, replaying the whole interaction in your head, letting out a frustrated cry when you realize something. "FUCK! I NEVER TOLD HIM MY NAME!!"

"Didn't tell whom your name?" A voice says, causing you to jump.

Turning you see famed pirate Mihawk, you jump once more. "Ah! Sorry sir! I didn't hear you come in, my apologies."

"It's quite alright, I will not fault you for being so lost in thought in your own store." He stoically dismissed your concerned apology, removing his hat and placing it on the counter. "I seem to have gotten a bit careless earlier and somehow got a cut in my hat. Am I correct to assume this is the place I can get it fixed up nicely and quickly?"

Looking at the mentioned cut you assessed it was something that you could indeed repair, and quite quickly. "Yes, I do not believe this will take me that long to patch up, and I'll make it as unnoticeable as possible of course. Give me about an hour and I'll have it good as new sir."

"Very good, I shall be back then." He gave a curt nod before leaving, and as soon as he was out the door, you immediately set to work on fixing the hole in his hat.

After one hour had past exactly, Mihawk came strolling back in, gaining the attention of the few locals that had come in to browse.

"Perfect timing I finished a mere moment ago." You handed him back his hat, watching as he inspected your craftsmanship intensely.

A smirk cracked on his lips as he glanced back up at you. "Very well done, you can not even tell it is there unless you look extremely closely at it. Of course no one will ever be close enough for that, so you have my thanks." He placed a hefty amount of money in your hands before leaving.

"Whoa! That guy's intense!" One of locals muttered as they came to the counter.

"Yes he is, but thankfully I was able to do a good repair job." You replied, starting to ring up the items they'd set down.

"He seemed quite pleased with your work, maybe he'd be willing to dance with ya at the celebration tonight." Someone else chimed in, as they got in line to be rung up.

"Don't be ridiculous. That man is much too serious for my liking, I'd feel on edge the whole time." You shuttered slightly at the thought. "I never go to any of the parties in town anyways, but even if I did I'd rather spend my time around someone more akin to Buggy honestly."

A scoff could be heard, followed by a disgusted toned response. "Really that loser? He's a pretty sorry excuse for a pirate don't ya think?"

A few other insults and comments were thrown in agreement by others in the shop.

"HEY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You shouted, causing everyone to jump and go quiet. "If y'all want to shit talk that man then: GET.. OUT..OF..MY..SHOP!" you put emphasis on those last words, pointing your gaze to each person, whom was just talking, with each word.

A few people gulped in fear at what you might do if they say anything more.

"Captain Buggy is a highly valued customer here, so if you want to run your mouths like that about him in front of me then there will not only be hell to pay, but you will also be banned from my shop for life."

Everyone remained silent and somewhat timid of you until they left the store thankfully.

God did that get you're blood boiling, and you weren't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the fact that the clown had just been in here early and then suddenly everyone's throwing around insults about him. Or maybe it was more so the fact that Buggy had wormed into your heart quite easily during the earlier interaction you'd had with him. Whatever it was, it caused you to be uncharacteristically protective of someone other than yourself or the few people you were actually fairly close to. He was risking his life out at sea, putting on showy performances of a lifetime, while everyone in town here just partied and got drunk constantly, yet they'd all looked down upon Buggy in distain.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you began to occupy your time by sketching ideas and designs for costume pieces you could make to sell. Eventually you found yourself drafting up some designs for a flashy coat you'd think a certain blue haired pirate captain might not only enjoy but also look great in.

The squeaking of the door could be heard, pulling you from your current sketching, you looked up to find Buggy back in the shop.

Your face instantly lit up with a smile upon seeing him. "Hey there handsome, I thought you wouldn't be back till tomorrow."

He smiled back at you, making his way over to lean on the counter across from you. "Well what can I say? I was craving the love of an audience... well that and I realized you never gave me that treat for being a 'good boy' like you said earlier."

"Oh and just what kind of treat would the marvelous Buggy the Clown like?" You stood up, making your way around the counter to stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. "Maybe something like a free pair of gloves, or a discount on one of the pricer costume pieces, or maybe even a specially made mask that will fit around your cute nose?" At the mention of his nose you gave it a small 'boop' with your finger.

He gently grabbed the hand you used to tap his nose, holding in his as he looked into your eyes. "Actually I was more so hoping for that kiss you claimed you wanted to give me. Ya know the one you you said you want to give me on my nose you seem to like so much."

"Oh-" You were caught off guard a bit, in a good way however as it caused you to blush. "I suppose I can do that, yea.."

A wide smile grew on his face as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning up to place a small kiss to his bulbus red nose. You'd only pulled back a few inches away from his face, looking into his eyes for a moment before a mutual pull had you both leaning back in and connecting your lips. It was a sweet kiss, that lasted for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two in reality, though it left you both speechless for a moment.

"Uh wow, I um- wasn't expecting that sorry." Buggy said, breaking the calm silence you'd been in.

"Heh, yea me either, but I enjoyed it so don't apologize." You slid your hands up to cup his cheeks on either side of his head. Something felt weird though when you did. "Uh not to ruin the moment but you seem to be missing an ear..."

A nervous chuckle came from him. "Heh, about that..." He stopped speaking for a moment a bit embarrassed as his missing ear seemed to zip out of your back pocket and back to his head. "I kind of left it here earlier."

"When did you put that there?" You were more shocked at how it got his ear into your pocket without you knowing, than you were mad at him for seemingly spying on you.

"I did it while you were distracted with my theatrics of leaving." He smiled sheepishly. "I heard you defending my honor so to speak and felt bad about the whole spying thing after that so I decided to come back."

"Hmm, if you say so~" You squinted at him, being jokingly skeptical of his words.

"I'm willing to make up for the spying in anyway you want." He held his hands up, seemingly in a playful surrender.

You faked thinking really hard for a moment, before smiling and giving your response. "I suppose you can give me another kiss, then I'll forgive you."

A shit-eating grin plastered itself across Buggy's face, while his hands now detached pulled you close to him by your waist. "Oh that I'd me more than happy to do."

The two of you shared in another sweet kiss, this one with a bit more passion pouring from both of you. Neither of you wanted to be the first to pull away, though eventually when your lips had parted from each other's you remained there holding each other still.

A pit started to form in your stomach, the kiss was great sure but you hardly knew him. For all you know he could have a spouse and kids somewhere, yet here you were openly flirting and kissing him without even a second thought. There'd always been a sort of loneliness in you, always craving the love of another but never being able to find it. You had small flings during the time you were a mime, ridding yourself of that lonely feeling for short periods with the fleeting intimacy of your fellow performers. Though it had grown especially harder since you had moved here, to fight off that ache, no longer having the trusted company of others, only visiting pirates that brought danger with them and the townsfolk who only ever seem to care about partying their troubles away.

Then Buggy came in and you couldn't help latching on to the hope that those rumors of him being less of a threatening force were correct. Thinking he might be easier to approach, that he wouldn't be a threat to your own safety, and you could use him easily to fill that void again for at least the night. There would be no worry about catching feelings considering he only comes for supplies every few months from what you'd heard, and he surely would or has met others who catch his eye far better than you ever could.

It was all starting to make you feel guilty the more you thought about it. "I'm sorry Buggy."

His expression flushed with confusion. "Huh? What are you apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry that I don't fear you." You moved out of his grasp slowly, gaze now shifted to the floor.

More confusion. "How is that a bad thing exactly?"

A sigh escaped from you, back now facing the puzzled pirate. "Every other pirate that comes to town leaves me feeling on edge. Sure this town might be big on reputations not mattering here but I can't help but fear for my life around the few pirates that do come in to this little shop. You must have heard the fear I felt earlier over Mihawk's visit, yet I was completely at peace when I saw you. I guess I let the gossip people say about you being less threatening or less strong as others affect how I saw you. I kind of used you somewhat for my own selfish desires today or was at least planning on to."

"What do you mean by that exactly?" You couldn't read his emotion in his voice and you dated not look back at him.

"I've always longed to experience love but I never have been able to. I use to sleep around with my fellow performers to chase off my feelings of loneliness, though I can't do that anymore since I've moved to this town. The pirates bring too much uncertainty with them and the locals are all a bunch of careless party animals, but you've been described as somewhat of a push over. In my subconscious I guess I thought I could use you like a toy to make myself feel better with out caring about your own feelings since we're both pathetic cowards." As you spoke tears began softly falling from your eyes, causing your own makeup to become a mess. "I was wrong to think that though, and I realized it after you kissed me again. You don't deserve to be treated so poorly, especially not by me. I'm sorry Buggy for thinking so little of you, when in reality you are far greater than me."

Silence. No response from the man came, only the sound of you sniffing filled the air for what seemed like forever. Though finally detached gloved hands came to rest on your shoulders, snaking their way up your neck to cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears. Handless arms wrapping themselves around your waist from behind as Buggy's head floated Infront of you, looking into your eyes.

"It's okay sweetheart, there's no need to get so worked up over lil ole me. in all honesty I can't blame you or hate you at all for wanting to use me. I mean I would have used you right back." A bit of guilt hid behind his gaze, a small comforting smile on his painted lips. "I know I'm the great Buggy the Clown, but I'm in the exact same boat as you. Searching selfishly for small cures to fix the deep desire of wanting to be loved by someone. I've honestly used so many random people along my journey, never caring how'd they feel when I'd be gone the next day, never to see any of them again. There's no telling if I'd have ended up doing the same to you or not."

Staying there you a moment, both of you processing what you'd each admitted to, you could help but feel drawn to him again. Even if it was wrong of you to do considering all you'd said just now, you couldn't help but to reach up to cup his floating head, guiding his face towards yours again before kissing him.

"I'm sorry, i-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Don't be.." He said, connecting his lips back to yours again.

The kiss quickly turned passionate, it was clear that you both need this right now and there would be no resistance from either one of you. When you'd broken apart for a moment to catch your breaths, Buggy took the chance to spin you around and put himself together again. Now that your chests were pressing together, he recaptured your lips as one hand flew over to lock the shop's door and flip the sign to closed, before coming back to join the other hand in grabbing your ass. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, one moving to his back as the other moved to softly tug off his bandana.

Tangling your fingers into his soft blue hair, few groans escaped him when you dared to tug at it. The sound only served to light a quickly growing fire of desire in you, which lead you to tug his hair some more in order to gain another few groans from him.

"Damn you really like my hair don't you?" He teased, trailing kisses down to your neck now, finding your sweet spot quickly, nibbling and sucking on it. "Though it's not fair I'm the only one making noise here."

You moaned at the feeling of his mouth marking up your neck, grinding your hips greedily against his, growing desperate for some form of friction between you two.

"Buggy~ pl-please" You whined a bit and he took the hint, using one of his hands to pin your waist against the counter while the other began to rub over your clothed crotch. He pulled his head away from your neck to watch the faces you were making at his touch. He felt he could watch you all day honestly, the way your eyes had become full of lust and your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip, was so mesmerizing to him. His own arousal and desire blossoming as he watched you try to plead with your eyes for him to touch you more. He maybe a killer but he knew how to be nice when he wanted, and thankfully he chose to play nice tonight by giving you what you wanted.

His hand stopped rubbing against your aching clothed loin, moving to undo your pants and pull them down.

When you tried to push your underwear along with them he stopped you. "No no- not yet." He picked you up, placing you so you were sitting at the edge of the counter, as he kneeled down to place his head between his legs. He started planting little kisses and bites along your thigh leading towards your core untill he was about to plant a kiss directly where you needed his touch the most, but instead switched to the other thigh, doing it over and over again to tease you.

"Captain please quit teasing~" you begged, not knowing how much more his little game you could handle before you'd go insane.

"Alright doll, but only cause you asked so nicely." Finally he removed your last bit of clothing covering your needy sex, planting tender kisses that only served to make you crave him even more.

Gradually he began to use his tongue, licking and sucking in all the right places and in all the right ways, drawing out moans from you, that he could only describe as beautiful. All the little moans, whimpers and curses of his name were music to his ears in all honesty, and he knew once he'd gone back out to sea they would haunt his dreams every night till he saw you again.

Of you in turn would be haunted by the memories of the way his mouth felt on you right now, the way it seemed to be effortlessly drawing you closer to your climax. "Buggy~ 'm close" Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, encouraging him to continue what he was currently doing until you had cum. Thankfully he did, letting you reach your high, then lapping up the mess you'd made without any hesitation.

Once he knew you'd come back down from your orgasm, he stood up and guiding you off the counter where you sat, moving to bend you over it instead. Removing his gloves and undoing his pants, his aching member flew around to your mouth while a few of his fingers began to tease your hole.

"Do me a favor babe, suck on that for me and get it nice and slick with your spit while I make sure your stretched out enough here for me to fit."

He didn't need to tell you twice, instantly you took the floating member into your mouth sucking on it and running your tongue over the tip. You took as much as you could into your mouth and throat, using your hand to spread excess drool over what little bit of length you couldn't. As you worked bobbing your head on his cock, he began to work your hole, starting by slowly inserting two of his digits into you, sliding them in and out a bit before scissoring them carefully inside you, and when he felt you were ready enough he inserted a third digit into the equation.

After a bit when he felt you were stretched out enough, and his dick was thoroughly lubed with your spit, he removed himself from both ends of you. Joining himself back together, he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, groans escaping from both of you as he did. His movements were slow and steady to start, letting you get fully accustomed to the feeling of each other.

"Fuck, even with all that preparation your still so tight." He groaned out into your ear, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he started to speed up his pace a little. "You doing okay? Nothing feels uncomfortable right?"

You shook your head, trying to remember how to speak anything but his name. "No- I'm fine- feels so good Buggy"

He plants a few kisses on your shoulder before he stands himself up straight, quickening his pace more till there's an audible slapping sound of your skin slapping against each other's. Just as you both were getting lost in the pleasure and feel of the other one's body, a knock errupts from the door.

The pair of you glance towards the door, seeing Mihawk standing in the window of it. Without even slowing down his thrusting for a second, Buggy detaches his torso and floats it to the door to answer it.

"What do you need?" You hear the clown ask annoyed, probably glaring daggers at the swordsman.

"I came to talk to the shop keep. I wanted to inquire about replacing the plume of my hat." Mihawk responds unfazed by the current situation.

"Really shit head? You can see were in the middle of something obviously, you couldn't wait till tomorrow to ask?" Buggy crosses his arms, now pissed at the man for interrupting you two over something so stupid. "Get lost, and If you bother me again while I'm fucking their brains out, I will kill you and serve them your heart in a pretty little box. Got it!?" With that he slams the door and relocks it, before his torso makes its way back over to you float Infront of you.

"Mmm~ Fuck that was kinda hot, and I loved the way you threatened him babe." You look up to meet his gaze.

"I know, I felt you clench a bit when I said it." He plants a kiss on your lips. "Now, that he's got me all pissed off I'm sorry but I'm gonna take it out on you. Sorry in advance"

He reconnects his body to his hips, gripping tightly onto your waist before picking up the pace of his thrusting till it's almost painful how quickly he's plunging in and out of you. Your hips are being harshly pressed into the counter's edge by force of his pounding, your brain going numb, only capable of barely forming his name on your lips occasionally or producing various loud groans of pleasure.

Somewhere in the hectic mess of your mind trying to keep ahold of what's going on, you realize you'd cum again, which only furthered the overstimulated mess of pleasure you'd become.

"Nng- Bu-ah-gy~" It was no use, you were desperately trying to beg him to slow down a little but words were far out of your reach in your current state.

"Shhh sweetheart" His removed head came up to rest beside your own to comfort you. "Only a little longer baby, I promise. I'm gonna cum soon and then we can take a break ok? You want me to come in you, right? Want me to make you mine, don't you?"

He weakly nodded in response as he kissed you, your mouths seemingly melding into one.

Finally his hips ceased all movement, burying himself as deep as he could before releasing into you. "Good slut~ see, doesn't it feel so nice to have my cum in you?"

Finally you regained the ability to speak. "Yes~ that was so... wonderful."

"I know it was, we practically had a standing ovation with all the clapping our bodies were making." He joked, removing himself slowly from you. "Now let me help you get cleaned up after that outstanding performance."

"I'd like that. We can go up the stairs in the backroom, I live above the shop." You stood up carefully but when you wobbled a bit Buggy instantly picked you up and carried you up to your bathroom, with the help of your directions. The pair of you bathed, him of course helping you clean and dry yourself off before you both moved to lie on your bed.

"Buggy, will you stay the night with me please?" You rested your head on his chest, curling up into his side.

"Of course. I couldn't even dream of leaving your side right now." He placed a few kisses to the top of your head while one of his hands now comfortingly rubbed your back.

Blissfully you both laid there silent, basking in the soft glow of the moon rising through the night sky and shining through your window. You could both hear the faint noise of people partying in town square, laughing and shouting in drunken glee, it serving as a form of white noise to your thought filled minds.

"Hey Buggy, can I make a proposition, well I guess it's more of a request?" You shifted so you could look into his eyes, that were now seemingly glowing in the low light.

"Sure my starlight. What is it?" A thumb ran over your cheek tenderly.

"Would you be willing to be mine?" You studied his face for a second as he thought. "I know I'm being a bit foolish here but you've filled that lonely void in me more than anyone else ever had. I honestly think I've fallen for you somewhat today and I don't want to lose you. I don't care if we can't see each other for months on end, just please let me selfishly love you for at least a little while and maybe you can even love me too."

Something twinkled in his eyes as you spoke, knowing he felt the same. You'd both lived your lives searching for someone to love, or someone who could love you back and now the two of you were here entwined in bed together. You'd both filled that empty void in each other, chased off the loneliness together and somehow grown attached to the other in less than a day. Even if this was only a fluke, a mistake on your part, Buggy wasn't going to question it in the slightest. You were practically begging for him of all people to love you, of course he wasn't going to deny your love. You were the first person to love him and want to be loved by him, he'd be an idiot if he pushed you away now.

"Of course! I'd give anything to be yours honestly!" He pulled you into a deep kiss, sealing your new relationship with tender passion. When he'd pulled away, the pair of you had eyes filled with joy.

"I do have one request of my own though, besides wanting you to be mine as well."

Curious and excited you nodded for him to continue.

"Can you finally tell me your name at least?"

#one piece live action #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #one piece fanfiction #live action buggy the clown #mine

281 notes · View notes

writingonleaves · 10 days

Text

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future.

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior.

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise.

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it.

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly?

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us.

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right?

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days, I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when.

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag.

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck)

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other.

Yet we still hurt each other.

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did.

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional.

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down.

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better.

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured.

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for?

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always.

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to.

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you.

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you.

I do.

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too.

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend.

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen.

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now.

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too.

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday.

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago.

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered.

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this.

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed.

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore.

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween.

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there.

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me.

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond.

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known.

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd.

I looked for you in every crowd for years.

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me?

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months.

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then.

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that.

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me.

Or maybe not.

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized.

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best.

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important.

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome.

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on.

I hope you're moving on.

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight.

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met.

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up.

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day.

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door.

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that.

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles.

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t.

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city.

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster.

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city.

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too.

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee.

Jeremy walks into the book store.

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red.

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her.

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything.

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways.

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with.

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same.

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out.

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all.

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence.

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does.

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..”

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?”

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan,

i still love you too.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours,

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused.

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #hockey blurb #hockey writing #boston bruins #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman blurb #jeremy swayman writing #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman fanfiction #jeremy swayman x ofc #jeremy swayman x oc #jeremy swayman x reader

60 notes · View notes

sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Text

“MMAHMB” Luffy x Black!Fem Reader (FLUFF)

I got this idea from reddit

Bad Summary: For the past 6 months Luffy has been telling you 6 letters everyday wanting you to figure out what it means and it’s been driving you crazy

CW: Just cheesy fluff fr, a kiss ig, Reader is Mentioned to Have Locs

“Man?”

“No.”

“Mom?”

“No.”

“Make?”

“No!”

“Well i dont know Luffy gimme a hint!”

You both got lost in the jungle the crew decided to scope around and while searching for a clear path to follow Luffy called you over to see what he carved in the tree and it was a poorly worded

MMAHMB

Right on the bark, you look to see his happy go lucky smile and ask the same daily question,

“What does it mean.”

“Guess!”

“I CAN’T—!”

You have tried to come up with every possible word but the only one you’ve guessed right was “me” but that wasn’t the first word.

“Can i get a clue.”

“No.”

It was like a never ending game of hanged man, except no confirmation that you are right or wrong or close to the answer.

At one point you’ve asked for help but it made Luffy so whiney and upset so nobody tries to give you aid in your time of need.

“Give up?” Luffy teased now wrapping himself on your back as you walked, luckily he was always light as a feather so carrying him was never an issue with him holding onto you like a Koala.

“It’s been MONTHS Luffy of course i give up!” Your shrug your arms out groaning in mental exhaustion from your menacing boyfriend, he just giggles to kiss your cheek before pointing forward

“Okay fine! You suck at riddles Y/N..”

“Shut up and tell me!”

He lets out an airy chuckle and stares off for a moment in thought as you kept walking as Luffy played in your locs, you can feel him twirl it and even put one on his lip like a mustache making your lip curl into a grin,

“You should show me sometime how you got your hair like this i like it alot….so soft—“

“Luffy tell me what the letter mean bro.”

“OH RIGHT HEHEHEHE!”

He lets go of your hair to grab your cheeks, his slightly dry lips right on your ear to.

“PSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPPSPSPSPSPSPST!”

“EW! WHAT?!” You swat his hands away and rub your now drool filled ear, “Luffy you play too damn much!”

“Hahahahaa! Okay okay! Fineeeee.”

Doing attempt 2, you felt reluctant, but you still leaned into his touch, his hand now covering your opposite ear and other hand cupping your other, he breathes are slightly shaky, possibly from excitement.

“You ready?” His tone a little more sincere and genuine, you nod impatiently, “okay…”

“Y/n…”

“Oh look we’re here! We found a path!”

Almost as if someone robbed you of seeing the One Piece, your heart sank and in an instant you got a headache. You felt Luffy’s bodyweight off of your back, but you couldn’t even look at him. You just held your face, nearly about to crouch down.

“Hey…what’s wrong you hurt?” Luffy tilted his head and tugged your arm to show your eyes.

“Noooo Luffyyy.” You pouted, “tell meeee what the letters meeeeeaannnuhhh?”

Luffy’s slight frown turned into laughter as he wrapped his arm around you to hold you on his side and run to the nearest tree.

You were so defeated and annoyed you just laid there practically dead on his side with the most irritated look on your face, of course Luffy didn’t care he was too busy carving…

MMAHMB

“Marry.” Luffy had his finger on the first word and looked at you,, he wasn’t necessarily smiling, but he had a very hopeful look on his face.

“Me.” He pointed at the next letter and with each word your eyes grew bigger.

“And.”

“Have.”

“My.”

“Babies.”

It took you a moment to register what he said,

“…marry me and have my babies…”

“No! Marry ME and have MY babies, y/n!”

You were dumbfounded. Clearly these past 6 months he haven’t been trying to,

“…are you proposing to me?”

“Well.” He said helping you stand you back up, brushing your clothes that have seemed to been dirtied by leaves while running, “kinda. We can’t get married now but this is my promise to you!—

“You will marry me and have my babies!”

You felt your heart and face warm, he was so confident and proud to finally reveal his little secret to you you started to blank out on his rambling.

“…and you should have all boys! When im pirate king I want an all boy crew to teach! Not that i don’t want any girls, I do like you, Robin, and Nami—-“

“Luffy!” You snapped him out of his thoughts as you touched the poorly carved tree. “You mean that?”

“Duh, why would i lie.”

You smile at his shrug, grabbing his neck you kiss this boy, making him smile. He grew to adorn your kisses, he grew to adorn you, which is why he knew and meant what he said,

“I love you, Luffy.” You mumble on his lips getting another laugh out of him before he throw his hag on you.

It was such a weird yet cute way for him to propose, you never really had many romantic moments like this with Luffy, he just isn’t a romantic guy, he does things out of impulse and what he thinks is right and you knew that so you wasn’t too surprised this was how he would profess his love to you, so what can you expect from a guy like him.

He’s Luffy.

And he loves you.

#one piece #TimikosLuffy #one piece headcanons #black reader #one piece x female reader #luffy x female reader #luffy x black reader #luffy headcanons #luffy fluff #luffy scenarios #luffy imagine #luffytaro #luffy gear 5 #luffy #mugiwara no luffy #one piece x black!reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader

886 notes · View notes

edsloveydove · 2 years

Text

I Have Always Seen You

pairing: eddie munson x chubby female reader

summary: of course the boy i've known since 3rd grade, the one i've loved since 7th grade, would be the one to break my heart. i never thought he would be the one to fix it too...

warnings: bullying, fatphobia, use of the word pig towards reader once, falling off a bike, blood and cut knee from falling off said bike, self-doubt and sort of self-hate i guess, cursing, mentality that reader wouldn't be 'missed' (idk if thats a warning but just in case), no use of y/n, underage drinking, reader has an older brother for sake of the story (i gave him a really basic/common name), thoughts and flashbacks are in italics!! nickanames/pet names (shortcake, princess, honey, sweetheart), reader is at least a bit shorter than eddie, very poorly edited, talks of the demobats and upside down, again like very badly edited, lemme know if i missed anything, i'm sure i have!

word count: 9k+

notes: my first fic guys and it turned into this 9,000 word monster! wild! anyway, this might be trash i honestly don't know, i have no perception of it, pls let me know what you think!! also, this story is told in first person point of view so it uses 'i, me, myself' and all that, idk how i feel about it though tbh. uuuuh, enjoy!!

DON'T REPOST MY WRITING OR SHARE IT TO OTHER PLATFORMS (including mentioning it in tiktok comment sections and stuff like that pls) THIS IS MY WRITING, DON'T STEAL IT PLEASE!

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

The sweltering midwestern heat was hitting Hawkins, Indiana early this year. School had only been out for a few weeks and it was already hot enough to have the city pool passing the max capacity damn near every day.

Luckily for me, I had been able to successfully avoid going every time my friends have asked me to join them. Until now.

“C’mon, it’s gonna be so much fun! Steve’s parents are gone again, like usual, so it’ll just be us and a few other friends!” Robin tries to convince me through the phone.

“Robin, I never believe ‘just us and a few friends’, because it is ne-”

“It’s never just a few friends, I know. But this time it really will be just a few people. Like, actually just a few people. After everything that happened during spring break and all that, Steve really just wants the main guys there. There’s not gonna be any crazy partying, we’re gonna swim and relax, that’s it.”

“I don’t know, I might be busy tomorrow,” I attempt an excuse.

“Then we’ll move it to when you’re free. We really want you there, you haven’t gone to any of our movie nights or other hangouts yet,” Robin points out while saying my name softly. “Is it something else? Is there someone you don’t want there?”

Robin isn’t entirely wrong, there is something else that’s keeping me from joining my friends. And technically it does have to do with someone, but not in the way she thinks. And that someone happens to be none other than the Eddie Munson.

I’ve known Eddie for many years. My older brother was one of his best friends while growing up having met in elementary school. James was in the grade above Eddie, and the one to introduce him to D&D, eventually passing on the title of Hellfire Club President to him as well. I was always in the background, hoping my brother would let me learn how to play just so I could impress him and his friends.

While they were occupying the basement, getting pizza and bottles of Coke every other Saturday for their stupid role-playing game, I was in my room reading trashy romance novels and out riding my bike to the library in hopes to seem cool when I came back late at night.

By the time I got to high school, it was James’ second to last year before he went off to college in Chicago on his big-shot football scholarship he managed to snag before he was even a senior. And yes, James was a Hellfire nerd and a star-athlete, so no one messed with their little club while he was there. Eddie was in his sophomore year, already antsy to graduate and move on to greater things.

I was just the outcast that didn’t even have a group. It didn’t matter that I was the captain of the football team’s little sister, I never made any friends because I never tried to.

Needless to say, yeah, Eddie and I had some history and maybe things got brought up when Vecna was trying to take over the world that might have been better left untouched. And maybe the idea of seeing him again brings butterflies to my stomach while also making my gut sink.

“No, it's not that. I just…I guess I just haven’t been feeling it since…since yanno,” I say, half heartedly.

Robin voices her understanding and tells me to just call back when I make a decision on if I would go or not. I promise her I will and hang up the phone. It’s not like I didn’t want to see them, because truly I did but it also wasn’t a complete lie when I told her I hadn’t been feeling quite right since the Venca situation.

It was a really traumatic and horrible experience for everyone involved, and really astonishing that everyone made it out alive.

‘Maybe I should just go…but what if it’s horrible? I know none of my lovely friends would ever say anything to me about it, but I just can’t stand the thought of them seeing me in a swimsuit, especially Eddie.’ I shake my head at the thought. ‘What a stupid thing to think, god, we all nearly died and I’m worried about my stomach in a swimsuit, how shallow is that? I guess some things just never change, no matter the life threatening situation…’

I go about my nighttime routine, washing my face and making sure no lights have been left on around the house. I say goodnight to my mother and fall right asleep. Or, I try to at least.

But my mind keeps me up for much longer than I would have hoped.

‘It would be a good time, though. Have a couple of beers, spend the night in one of Steve’s nice guest bedrooms. I wouldn’t even have to swim, I could just say I’m on my period or something. Ugh, but Robin knows that I always swam even on my period when we were younger. I’ll just wear a suit under my clothes and pretend the water is too cold even though it’s the peak of summer? Yeah, that should work. I can’t imagine anyone will care that much anyway if I’m not in the pool with them. I really do miss my friends.’

The next morning I call Robin and tell her I’ll be there tonight. She squeals in delight and tells me how happy she’ll be to see me.

Now it was just time to pick out an outfit, should be simple enough, right?

Well, after leaving it to the last second and now only having about 15 minutes to get to Steve’s when it’s already a five minute drive, having half of my closet strewn about my room doesn’t seem like a very good place to be at.

I finally sigh and opt for a swim suit from the summer before that I never wore, a green one piece with a wrapped sort of style for the top portion, and black cut off shorts and an old t-shirt that fits comfortably loose over it.

I grab my keys and kiss my mother on the forehead, reminding her I wouldn’t be back till the next morning.

Several shouts of my name reach my ears once I reach Steve’s backyard, it does bring a small smile to my face knowing I’ve been missed just as much as I’ve missed them.

“You’re actually here, I’m so happy to see you!” Nancy says pulling me in for a hug, Robin joining on top, squishing us all together.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s been a really hard year,” Nancy says sincerely.

Steve comes up for a hug next, squishing me for dear life, I could feel him about to try to lift me up and spin me around so I pull away rather abruptly.

“Alright, alright, it’s nice to see you, too, Steve.”

He answers with a kiss to the cheek and makes me promise that I’ll come to the next hangout and every one after that. I see Jonathan and he waves with a small awkward smile.

Finally my eyes meet Eddie’s.

“James! James! C’mon, come outside and play with me!” It was nearing the end of summer before James would go back to school for his 8th grade year and I would be going into 6th grade.

“Not right now, can’t you see that I’m busy? I’m too old to play outside anyway,” my brother rolls his eyes.

I hop down the stairs so I can see the basement fully now. Spotting all of my brother's friends huddled around our dinky old card table while he has books and notepads sprawled on his end.

“Well, can I at least play your game with you guys? I’m sure I can learn it fast!” I beam, faking confidence in hopes to sway them.

“No offense, shortcake, but it’s probably too confusing for you. Besides, we’re right in the middle of a campaign, it would be too hard to add in another character out of the blue right now,” Eddie says with a chuckle, like the idea that I could play is too amusing to even consider.

Naturally, I take full offense.

“Fine! You’re all so annoying, I didn’t even want to play with you anyway. Especially not with someone who has a buzzcut!” I stick my tongue out at them and run away, but not before I can hear them laughing.

Sitting alone in my room I know it was childish of me, especially for my age. James was probably right, he was too old to be outside playing tag with his sister. I was too old to be throwing a tantrum like this over some friends wanting to spend time with each other without one’s little sister hanging around.

“Hey, Munson.”

Eddie nods his head in greeting and goes back to talking with Jonathan. Well, that’s honestly about as much interaction as I expected to get from him tonight.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Robin exclaims, dragging you toward the cooler filled with ice and drinks, I grab a Sprite to start with.

2 hours later and my Sprite is still mostly untouched and it’s now gone lukewarm. The others are in the pool splashing and playing chicken, I sit on the side with my feet dangling into the shallow end, watching as they fool around and laugh. Giggles and quiet laughs leave my lips on occasion with them.

“You should get in, the water’s really nice!” Nancy says.

“Yeah! Strip for us and get in here,” Robin adds, making everyone laugh.

“You guys just want to get me out of my clothes, don’t you?” I play it off, shaking my head slightly. Giggles erupt again. I excuse myself to the bathroom after pulling my legs out of the pool.

Closing and locking the door behind me I look at myself in the mirror.

‘I should just get in the pool, shouldn’t I? I do feel like I’m missing out on what could be a lot of fun. And it wouldn’t hurt to wash all this sweat off of me. I could just keep my shirt on, I have an extra change of clothes as backup anyway.’

I finish my business and leave the bathroom.

After turning the corner to go back to the pool I run straight into something firm, nearly being toppled over before hands are at my forearms to keep me from doing so. Seeing dark curls fanning across this “something’s” shoulders and several patches of dark ink on its bare skin, I immediately know I have just run head first into Eddie. Great.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I murmur, keeping my eyes pointed down.

“It’s alright, shortcake. No harm done right?” he says, adjusting his head to try to catch my eyes.

I nod my head and pull away from his hands that still rest gently on my arms.

“Hey, hey, what’s up? You’re so quiet tonight, is everything okay?”

I nod again and pull away harder, rushing out the door to get back to the pool, ignoring his call of my name and a request to “just hold on a second.”

Pulling my shorts off quickly, I step up to the pool and begin to wade into the water before Robin stops me.

“Your shirt! You don’t want the chlorine to ruin it!”

My heart thumps, thinking of how I can handle this. My mouth opens to say something but before I can, Robin cuts me off.

“Just take it off, no one’s gonna make fun of you for being in your swimsuit and if they do I’ll beat them up for you and then we’ll all collectively agree to throw them out of the group. And don’t try to tell me that’s not what it is, I can see it all over your face. You’re allowed to have fun and go swimming, I don’t like to see you excluding yourself, no matter the reason,” she says.

Of course she would see right through any lie I could throw her way. That’s just how Robin is. No matter how clumsy she can be, she really is observant. Not only that, but she’s right. Nobody cares and if they do, that’s their problem.

I rip off my shirt and dive into the pool trying to minimize the time in which people could see me without it. Immediately finding Steve’s legs I yank his ankles so he falls backwards into the water with an unnecessarily loud screech.

It makes the rest of us laugh loudly until Steve comes back up for air with a thirst for vengeance. He chases me around the pool, not for long considering he’s such a strong swimmer and I’m really not trying very hard to get away from him, and catches me easily. His arms wrap around my waist and I cringe as his hands nudge my stomach, scolding myself for the action right after. Steve doesn’t care about my stomach, if he did, he wouldn’t be my friend.

“That really wasn’t very nice,” Steve says and starts lifting me out of the water.

“Steve, hey. Steve! Steve, no, I’m too heavy! Stevie, no! Bad Stevie! Bad!”

I’m thrown in the air as far as he can get me and I splash back down.

I come up spluttering for breath, “Oh, you are so dead, Harrington!”

All at once the rest of us are splashing and dunking him over and over, until he pleads mercy. Shrieks and squeals of glee and what might be considered laughter fill the air as everyone gets their turn being thrown into the water.

Eddie comes back out from the house and cannonballs in the middle of our ‘hate on Steve’ fest.

Eventually I end up back on the side of the pool in my shirt with just my feet in, this time so I can enjoy a fresh soda and mellow out a little, not to make myself smaller. Nancy and Jonathan have called it a night already, leaving Steve, Eddie, and Robin in or by the pool with me.

“I never noticed this scar? Where did you get it?” Robin points to my knee.

The nice old librarian put a hand on my shoulder gently to get my attention, telling me the library would be closing soon and it was best I head home, I hadn’t realized how late it already was. I pack everything together as fast as I can, quickly saying goodnight and unlocking my bike, trying my hardest to race home before the sun sets.

The wheels of my rickety bicycle pump faster and faster and in my haste I bump over a high curb without realizing, flying off and onto the pavement.

Tears spring to my eyes as air is sucked in through my teeth. I take a look at my knee and see a small dribble of blood seeping down it, my hands have little scrapes all over, spotted with little beads of red.

Not the worst I could have gotten from a bike incident, but bad enough to keep me from being able to ride the rest of the way home. It’s not far, but so much for getting back before the street lights turn on.

About 15 minutes later I make it into our backyard, dropping the two wheeled contraption from hell into the grass and stumbling through the door, all while sniffling back sobs.

“Oh hey, shortcake! James was starting to get worried about you, you really shouldn’t walk alone at night yanno? Next time ju-” Eddie cuts himself off after seeing the state I’m in. Of course he had to be the one to see me like this. Anyone else could have been sent on snack duty tonight, but it just had to be him.

“Oh my god, what happened?” He walks up to me.

I shrug my shoulders and look away. I catch a glimpse of how bad my knees and hands have gotten on the walk home. Blood drips down both knees, my left knee looking significantly worse than the right. Dirt and pebbles cover my palms along with streaks of crimson.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Tell me what happened? Please?”

I still don’t say anything, fresh, hot tears welling up and already spilling out. I refuse to let stupid Eddie Munson see me like this, all it would be is more leverage to make fun of me with.

He pulls my hand gently until I’m sitting down. Eddie appears in front of me with a first aid kit a few seconds later, carefully cleaning the gashes on my knees and scrapes on my hands with alcohol wipes.

“Did,” he lets out a shuddering breath, “Did someone hurt you?”

“No, god no Eddie, I just-, god this is so embarrassing, I just fell off of my bike is all,” I mutter, not really wanting him to hear the words as they come out.

“S’ not embarrassing, stuff like that happens. I just wish you would have told me, here I was thinking the boys and I were going to have to band together to cause hell for our favorite little goblin,” he says.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you guys wouldn’t really do that, I guess James might. Most of you guys don’t even really like me that much anyway, you don’t have to lie,” I whisper.

“That’s not true! Of course we would stick up for you!” he says like he’s shocked that I would think the opposite.

I just shrug my shoulders again and wipe my eyes, still avoiding looking him in the face.

“Here, let me help you up to your room. That can’t feel good to walk on,” he pulls me up from the chair and goes to lift me into his arms. I jump out of his reach before he can.

“It’s okay, I got it. Just- you better get back downstairs before they start worrying. I’ll take care of myself.”

“What? No, you’re basically limping just standing here, shortcake, let me carry you, it’ll only take a minute?” He phrases it like a question. Asking but also sort of demanding.

The idea is actually really nice, and I want to say yes to it. It would be like when the prince finally gets the princess in all those books I’ve read. Eddie could sweep me off of my feet and whisk me away.

But I know better, I know that he wouldn’t be able to lift me. Even if he could he wouldn’t so much as glance at me, again, I’m just his friend's little sister. Here only because this is where she lives.

“No thank you, I’m okay. Go ahead and go back to your game, I’m sure they miss you already. Nobody would even notice if I were gone, but they’ll practically riot without you,” I try to cover how deeply I believe those words with a laugh as I wobble away and halfway up the stairs before he can stop me.

“Um, I guess I don’t really remember. It’s probably just one of those super old scars you forget are even there,” I say, even though I recall the night I got it vividly.

Eddie’s eyes meet mine from the other side of the pool and they look almost…hurt at the possibility that I might not remember that day. Well, he didn’t get to feel hurt about it. He made it clear that he doesn’t care how I feel when we were in the upside down.

“Hmmm, yeah, I have, like, tons of those actually,” Robin says, “This one is from my cat, Steven, and this one-”

“You have a cat named Steven?” I cut her off. She gives me a look that says ‘duh’.

“But what about Steve? Like human Steve? Was this before or after you became friends? And how has this never come up before?” I practically shriek.

“Believe me, it has come up before. And yes, before she tells you otherwise, it was after we became friends,” Steve says, settling down beside me while throwing his arm around my shoulders.

“That is not true! I found him outside the mall before we became friends! We may have been working together at that point, but we were not friends yet!” Robin shouts.

“We were friends, she’s just embarrassed that she named her cat after me,” Steve whispers in my ear, making me giggle like a schoolgirl.

Even though I’ve never seen Steve romantically, he still had the ability to reduce me to feet kicking and hair twirling.

“What’s wrong with you, Munson?” Steve asks, noticing the scowl covering his face that usually carries a bright smile.

Eddie shakes his head, “Nothing man, just thinking about how I don’t have a beer in my hand right now.”

A call of my name breaks my gaze away from the mirror.

“You almost ready? It’s time to go!” James yells, entering my room. “Hey! You look great! It almost feels like I’m sending you off to prom already,” he says wiping fake tears from his cheeks.

I shove him in the chest and readjust my hair and the straps to my dress for what feels like the millionth time. It was a rather simple looking thing considering I had to sew it myself since the only dresses even near my size were too far out of theme for the 8th grade Winter Snowball or they were simply just ugly.

Light blue and white fabric lays delicately across my shoulders and down to my knees, matched with white slip on shoes and silver snowflake jewelry.

“You look really nice, seriously. I know how nervous you are, but it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” my brother assures me, slapping my shoulder much harder than necessary to push me towards the door, “Now it’s time to get your butt moving, let’s go!”

When we arrive at the dance I immediately catch eyes with Robin and speed walk to her. James goes wherever he's needed for volunteering.

After about 45 minutes the first slow song of the night comes on as I sit contently by myself at the far end of the bleachers. I wasn’t sad to not be dancing with anyone, I was honestly sort of relieved that I hadn’t had to dance all night. But watching all the couples on the dance floor does make my heart ache just a little.

“I haven’t seen you dance all night, what’s that about?”

“Why are you here?”

“Ouch, shortcake, I don’t even get a hello? And what, I can’t come volunteer with your brother?” Eddie says, fake hurt painting his face.

“It just doesn’t seem like you, I guess.”

He sits down next to me leaving at least enough room for another person to sit between us. He hands me an unopened juice box.

“Seriously though, why aren’t you out there? You don’t have someone you wanna get cozied up with on the dancefloor?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me in his typical annoying Eddie way.

I roll my eyes, as my stomach twists with shame. He’s mocking me, isn’t he?

“Nope. I’m okay with it though. Honestly I was perfectly happy just sitting here. Until you showed up that is,” I say with a shrug.

“Oh really? Well, gosh, who made you such a sour fart?” he laughs as I push him in the arm.

“Alright, c’mon then. Pity party is over, let's go do this,” Eddie holds out his hand and raises a brow when all I do is look at it confused. “Let’s go dance, shortcake, you should at least once before it’s over.”

“Um- I-” I’m at a loss for words. There’s no way he’s being anything but friendly but my stupid heart skips too many beats to count.

“Here, I need to go check on James and see how the other volunteers are doing. While I take care of that, I want you to sit here and decide if you want to dance with me or not. Of course, I won’t make you do anything you don’t wanna, but if you’re up for it, I’m here,” he says, bouncing back to the drinks and snacks table. I smile giddily at his back and stay sitting.

By the time the last song of the night played I was still in the exact same spot I had been for nearly 2 hours, waiting for Eddie to come back.

Immediately after he left, I knew I wanted to dance with him. Of course I would. I’ve known him since I was in 4th grade and have had a crush on him for a year now. All I had to do was wait a few minutes and I would get to live out a fairytale dream. Dancing across the room in a flowey dress with the guy I liked. Of course it would be strictly platonic on his end but it could mean something more to me silently.

So there I sat, with my empty juice box, tapping my foot in excitement. The first slow song ended and there was no sign of Eddie, but I was sure he just caught up with volunteer work. After the next 3 songs played I began to doubt myself slightly.

‘Maybe he hadn’t actually wanted to dance like it had seemed. But he looked really sincere when asking me. Yeah. And even if Eddie is just a regular teenage boy, and he can definitely be a jerk sometimes, he’s much sweeter and kinder than most. He wouldn’t leave me hanging like that. He’ll be back any minute now, I’m sure.’

By the time 11 more songs had played, I knew he wasn’t coming back. Tears were smearing my mascara while I sat as still as possible on the bleachers, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.

Of course he wasn’t being serious. He just wanted to tease me like usual, the only difference was this time it went too far. This time he was cruel about it. He could have just told me he didn’t mean it. Instead he strung me along and had me sitting here like a lovesick puppy for an hour straight.

Who was I kidding? Eddie couldn’t be interested in me. He was my brother's best friend and had seen me grow up. I was just his friend’s chubby little sister. Wearing a dress that doesn’t sparkle and shine like all the others’, sitting alone and pouting like a baby.

He probably thought I would crush his feet if I accidentally stepped on them.

After persevering through another hour of horror, James finds me in my corner ready to head home.

“All ready to go?” he asks jovially like he always seems to be.

“Yes.”

James picks up on my mood right away, but I’m already halfway to the car before he can say anything.

“Okay, uh, I gotta clean up some stuff still but here,” he throws me his car keys when I turn back around, “Go get the car started yeah?”

I nod and head out to the car when I see Eddie jogging up to the doors after me. My steps speed up hoping for all hell to avoid him. He calls my name but I don’t look back or slow down, in fact, the only thing it succeeds in doing is making me walk faster.

My hands shake as I try to slip the key into the driver’s side door handle. Warm hands settle on my wrists.

“Holy shit, I am so sorry, shortcake. I was so excited to dance with you, I really was, I just got caught up in helping another volunteer with something and lost track of time. I didn’t mean to forget you there all alone, I swear on everything. I know how excited you were for tonight and I am so sorry. I didn’t realize how long I had been gone until everyone started leaving and then I saw you get up and realized what I’d done, please forgive me,” he rambles off almost too quickly to understand.

I expect tears but all I get is a deep rooted feeling of shame and anger. Ashamed by the fact that I thought he would come back and angry at myself for sitting there hopelessly when I could’ve danced with Robin at least.

“Please, look at me. Please tell me you at least got to dance with someone else, right? You had a good time? Please tell me you at least had fun,” he pleads.

A scoff escapes me as I whirl on him.

“No, I didn’t dance with someone else, I sat there and I waited for you. I waited for you the whole time, and I guess that was my first mistake wasn’t it, huh? I believed you. I really thought you meant what you said to me.”

I rip my arms out of hold.

“You know what’s funny, too? I was actually having a really good time before you showed up. I told you as much earlier, even. I was perfectly happy to sit by myself, considering that’s how I spend most of my time anyway. I was really enjoying just watching the lights and the twirl of dresses, alone. I was overjoyed to just sit and watch Robin dance with her friends. And you had to come and- and lie to me! You made me feel special for fuck’s sake.”

His eyes flash with guilt and he must have finally realized how much he hurt me.

“I get that I’m not the prettiest and skinniest girl and I know that most of those kids don’t even know my name, but you do! You know me. You know me and you still forgot about me,” I pause and take a deep breath, “Do you remember what I said that night when I fell off my bike?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Nobody would even notice if I were gone. Nobody, not even you, I guess. You forgot about me not even 5 minutes after making me feel like the most special girl in that whole damn room. And that was really mean, Eddie. I hope you, at least, have a good rest of your night,” I step into the car and start the engine.

Steve plops down next to me holding 4 cans of beer, one for each of us.

“I’m really happy I came tonight, thank you, for inviting me and not forgetting about me after I kinda disappeared,” I say quietly.

Steve pats my back while Robin says something along the lines of ‘duh, of course we would never forget about you.’

Eddie stays silent, watching me closely.

I put my drink on the ground beside me and lay on my back, pulling my shirt down to make sure it covers me still. I start to count the stars, just to keep my brain occupied. My eyes drift shut, my mind choosing to visit yet another memory tonight.

It was James’ graduation party. All we had were a couple tables set up with snacks in the backyard and a bonfire, nothing too fancy. I made a simple ‘Happy Graduation!’ banner to hang across the gate for everyone to see, too.

I’m wearing a plain white sundress and converse, I knew I would be running back and forth from the backyard and the kitchen too much for heels to be sensible. Making sure there’s enough drinks and food and ice for everyone was my job tonight. The sun is still up, melting the ice and warming every drink out here.

James calls my name softly, “You can quit running around and tending to every little need. Come hang out with everyone for a little bit. Please?”

I set down the metal tub where drinks are kept and walk over to sit around the fire with him and his usual friends. New faces have popped up over the years, but many stayed the same. Danny Williams, a junior who may or may not have been my first kiss when we happened to both show up at the same party and ended up playing spin the bottle together, Jason Carver, a freshman who appeared promising on the football team before switching to basketball instead, Michael Brown, a senior who’s been in the little Hellfire Group since the beginning. There are several others I don’t recognize and even more that I do.

Of course, Eddie is there too. I just haven’t really…acknowledged him in…in a really long time.

I haven’t necessarily been giving him the silent treatment, but I stopped entertaining the conversations he always seemed to start with me.

Danny greets me with a smile as he sits down next to me. He even pulls his lawn chair a little closer towards mine, grinning slightly while doing so.

“What can I do for you Danny?” I say.

“Oh nothing. I just wanted to come sit by you, is all.” Huh. That…that sort of stumps me.

I didn’t think Danny would even recognize me at the party, and I’m honestly even more surprised that he wanted to talk to me after kissing me. We make small conversation, butting into the rest of the group's discussion once in a while to add an opinion.

Night had fallen and marshmallows and graham crackers were brought out for s'mores, as well as a couple of 12 packs of beer that someone had brought with them.

I knew James had gone to several parties to celebrate winning a football game where there had been alcohol, or even just little get-togethers where it was provided. I guess now that it was only soon-to-be seniors and high school graduates, minus myself, left at the party it was time for that portion of the night to begin.

I stand up to go in and let the others have their fun.

“Where’re you going?” Danny asks, grabbing my hand lightly, looking up with wide puppy dog eyes. His eyes are a pretty green color. Brown eyes have always been my favorite, though.

“Oh, I was just going to head in and call it a night. That way you all could have your fun without worrying about me dragging you down.”

My comment makes his brows furrow, his mouth opens to say something, but he’s cut off.

“You can stay out here, you know. No one minds having you here and I’m sure dear old James doesn’t care if you partake in a little drink, do you?” Eddie states. When did he get so close to us?

“Even if I did care she gets to do what she wants, man. As long as you're safe about it, go for it,” James says, patting my back and taking one for himself.

I’ve never drank before, but what the hell? James was leaving in just a few weeks now and this might be my only chance to try it. It’s certainly one of my last chances to hang out with everyone like this, at least for a while.

After just 2 cans my tongue had already loosened significantly. Danny and I had been talking and giggling the whole time until he had gotten up to go home since his designated driver was ready to leave.

“So, you and Danny seem pretty close suddenly?” Eddie phrases it like a question, wanting more information on the subject.

Usually I would just hum in what could be taken as agreement or disinterest but my mind was running a little slower than normal.

“Yeah, he and I kinda ran into each other at a party that I kinda crashed with Robin and we ended up, like, kissing and stuff,” I giggled. “But shhhh, don’t tell anyone else.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, but that could have been a trick of the light.

“What, uh, what do you mean by ‘and stuff’?”

“Oh nothing. We just had one teensy tiny kiss because we were playing spin the bottle,” I say, not really thinking about it.

Now I really know my brain is playing tricks on me because for a second I think Eddie looks pleased with this new knowledge that it didn’t really mean anything.

“I feel like we haven’t really talked in a long time. What’s, uh, what’s been up, lately?”

The question itself is awkward, but the way he struggled through it made it even more awkward.

“I’ve been regular old me, Eddie. Nothing new or exciting. Although I did finish a book last night that really threw me through a loop. Oh! Actually there is something exciting! Do you wanna hear it?”

He smiles, “Of course I do, shortcake.”

“Well,” I take another sip of what is now my third beer, “William Gillar and Stacy Johnson have finally graduated!” I let out a squeal.

Eddie just looks at me confused.

“Do you have any idea what this means, Eds? I am finally free of those two asshats for the rest of my high school experience! Isn’t that amazing! I mean, it was easier to ignore this year than last year, but god I am so thrilled! No more mean notes from them calling me a pig in my locker and book bag, I can even finally find a table to sit at for lunch instead of hiding in Mr. Steerwell’s class,” I sigh happily.

“Do you wanna know what else they did? This is so silly! They used to catch me on my walk home from school and steal my library books. How stupid is that? Why would you steal someone’s library books, right? They would run around with it so I would chase after them and then laugh at how my body would jiggle. How funny, right? I am so happy they’re gone, Eds, you have no idea.”

Eddie has his mouth halfway open, anger flaring in his eyes. But that couldn’t be right, why would he care about a couple of high school bullies.

“No, that’s not funny or silly. That’s been going on this whole time? And you didn’t tell anyone? God, why wouldn’t you tell someone, sweetheart? That’s horrible,” he says.

“Meh, it’s just normal high school bully stuff.” I wave my hand in dismissal.

“No, it’s not. Bullying shouldn’t even be considered normal anyway, but what they did to you? That goes far beyond normal, shortcake. I wish you would have said something. You know James and I would’ve taken care of them for you, right?”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it. It’s too late,” I dismiss him and his misplaced worry. Honestly, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. He must have sensed how much I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he dropped it.

The night moves quickly after that, people say their goodbyes as James takes over clean up duty, considering I can barely stand up without nearly falling asleep.

“Eddie, will you take her in and make sure she gets into bed okay?” James asks.

That’s how I find myself being semi-dragged up the stairs to my bedroom and thrown on the mattress like a sack of potatoes. I don’t think Eddie was half as rough as my brain made it seem, to be honest.

“Eds?” I whisper looking down at Eddie who’s kneeling by feet, gently taking my shoes off.

“Yeah?”

A couple beats of silence pass where I try to figure out how to word what I’m thinking.

“I forgive you.” His movements stop. “I hope you know that. It’s probably such a silly little thing to even remember but I forgive you for forgetting to dance with me. I probably would have forgotten me, too. And…and I am sorry. I really am, for pushing you away so hard after. It was really stupid of me and I wish I hadn’t. Robin is a good friend, but you’re kind of the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, I think. And I threw that all away over hurt feelings. Puberty, am I right?” I giggle.

“S’ not silly to remember that. And you weren’t being stupid, sweetheart. You were hurt, you were protecting yourself and I don’t blame you for that. I should never have even walked away from you that night, but I did. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness for it,” Eddie says.

More words mumble out of his mouth but none of it registers. Soon the noise stops and I feel Eddie’s warm hands pull my shoes all the way off, pushing my legs onto the bed and turning me to lay comfortably on my stomach.

He must remember that’s my favorite way to sleep.

My mind must really hate me because I swear, right before I fall asleep, I feel lips pressing gently to my forehead while a guitar calloused hand pushes hair away from my eyes.

Of course, that didn’t actually happen because that’s not something Eddie would do. Right? Yeah, he wouldn’t…

A timid shake to my shoulder pulls me from my dozing.

“Hey, shortcake, it’s time for you to go in.”

There’s only one person who’s ever called me by that nickname.

“Hm, it’s been a while since you’ve called me that…Eds.”

I don’t know what made me decide to use his nickname. It never seemed right to use it after we drifted so far apart when James left.

Eddie helps pull me to my feet.

‘Hmmm, he’s always been a lot stronger than he looks. I barely even lifted myself up for him.’

“Oh, now you wanna be all friendly again? Using a nickname and everything? What’s this all about, huh?” Eddie says, steadying me with his calloused hands when my legs wobble.

My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Earlier, when we were in the house. You practically ran away from me. I mean, it’s just that we…we haven’t seen each other since we went into the upside down. I thought maybe,” he lets out a long breath. “Maybe things had changed or something, I guess. I was hoping we could talk about it after we all got out but you’ve been avoiding everyone.”

“And why is that? Why do you think things would have changed Eddie?”

“No! No, no, no! Edward Munson, if you cut that rope, so help me god!”

“You know I always love when you use my full name.”

And the bastard cuts the rope.

The next thing I know, he’s out of the trailer doing something entirely too heroic and the exact amount of stupid he always is.

Before I can think I shove Dustin out of the trailer, the one not in the upside down, and send him to go help Lucas.

“No! We need to help him! Can’t you see that he needs help!”

“I know Dustin, I know. That’s why I’m staying here. But I need you to go find Lucas and Erica and check on Max. There are others who still need our help, Henderson. Please, listen to me and go help them.”

I turn back into the trailer before he can disagree again, locking the door to make sure he doesn’t follow. Without second guessing, I jump through the portal, landing somewhat safely on my side.

I manage to find a bike and just a few minutes later I’m riding as fast as I can towards the bat tornado that Eddie stands in the middle of.

“Eddie you dumb jerk, you better not be getting yourself killed!” I scream at the top of my lungs. His eyes catch mine as a look of horror crosses his face.

“Why the hell did you follow me? I specifically told you not to!”

“Yeah, well I specifically told you not to cut the rope!”

We fight off the bats as best we can until they all suddenly drop to the ground.

Eddie and I stand breathing hard, our brains trying to catch up with all of what just happened. Eddie turns to me, a grin beginning to form.

I punch him as hard as I can in the chest. And then I do it again, and then again and again, until I’m pounding my fists against his chest over and over again.

“What the hell?! Honey, stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

I choke on hiccupping sobs as hot tears overflow past my lashes.

“Don’t you ever do something like that again! Ever!”

Eddie grabs my wrists to keep me from hitting him anymore. I keep trying until I realize his hold on me is too strong.

“Princess, you gotta stop. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, please stop.”

He wraps his arms around me, stroking the back of my hair, pressing soft kisses to my forehead.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.”

“That was not okay, Eddie. Not okay!” I tell him looking up into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But look, we did it!”

He looks down at me thoughtfully. His eyes flit down to my lips. My breath catches.

He couldn’t possibly be…

His lips are on mine. And Eddie Munson is kissing me.

Both of his hands are on the side of my face, rubbing his thumbs softly across the apples of my chubby cheeks.

I pull away, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Kissing my shortcake,” he says with a smirk while I grimace at the phrase. He laughs at the face I make and kisses me again.

I kiss back harder this time, getting lost in all things Eddie. The way his hair feels soft even despite being so dirty. His lips are somehow minty. He smells like smoke and old books.

My heart soars. This has to be proof, then. Eddie must think of me the way I think of him. I can’t imagine ever kissing someone with this much passion if it didn’t mean something more. I smile into the kiss.

Footsteps sound behind where we stand and Eddie pushes me off of him, placing several feet between us. I look at him confused and hurt by his sudden change in behavior. He refuses to meet my eyes. He even wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, looking straight ahead at Steve, Robin and Nancy appearing in front of us.

Oh.

He’s too embarrassed to let his new friends see him with the big girl? Is that what it is? Does he suddenly regret kissing me? Was it just a heat of the moment type of deal, then? I was the closest human thing, so he settled on me for a little ‘yay the world didn’t end’ kiss?

In my whole life, I don’t think anything has hurt as much as that did.

An uncomfortable amount of silence fills the air..

“Things got weird after James left, but you know that. We both felt it, even though we tried to ignore it. Jason started to act like he ran the damn school even though we were friends at one point. I never saw you because we were never at your house anymore. Then I got held back and we basically had every class together. Then I got held back again and you graduated. I missed you. I really, really missed you,” he says the last part quietly. Almost like he was afraid for me to hear it. I hold back a scoff.

“I missed you so much, it’s ridiculous. I just wanted my shortcake back. My sweetheart, my princess, my honey,” he laughs to himself, I stay quiet. “God, I was such a jerk to you growing up. And not because ‘I had a crush on you’ because that’s bullshit, guys shouldn’t be allowed to be mean to girls with the excuse of it being ‘romantic’. I wish I had treated you better, been a little friendlier. I never realized how much you meant to me until your brother’s graduation.”

He takes his eyes away from his feet to glance at me.

“Do you remember that night? It was your first time drinking and you got so sleepy I had to tuck you into bed. You had told me about you and Danny at that party and it made me jealous. I’d never really felt jealous before, certainly not like that at least. It made me realize how deep my feelings for you went.”

I remain silent, partly because I didn’t want to interrupt him when this is the most honest and vulnerable he’s ever been, out of respect, and partly because I was utterly confused and angered by what he was saying and claiming.

“You forgave me for leaving you alone at the dance, even though I never deserved to be forgiven for that. I didn’t even know how badly you were being bullied at school until you told me, that’s not a person who deserves to be forgiven.”

A soft laugh and a pause. “I guess what I’m saying is…is I wish things had, in fact, changed after Vecna. And I know, that’s probably not something you want to hear because I know it’s not the same for you but I figure if you’re not gonna talk to me anyway, I may as well tell you, right?”

He takes a step towards the house but I don’t let him get far.

“What do you mean it’s ‘not the same for me’?”

“Well obviously you’ve been ignoring me since I kissed you so, clearly it wasn’t something you wanted.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And that’s okay. I’m not saying you have to be with me or anything, I’m just saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I’ve been ignoring you?” I ask, dumbfounded by his idiocy.

“Well, yeah. You haven’t even been answering the walkie.”

“And you think that was because I didn’t want to kiss you? Not because, oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that the second Nance and the others showed up you shoved me away from you? It couldn’t have been because it was obvious you couldn’t stand the thought of being seen with me?”

Eddie’s face drains of color.

“I can’t help but see now that this is all you think I deserve. A quick kiss when no one can see, right? A little making out before someone can figure who you’re with, huh?”

“No! That is not at all what that was! I can’t believe you would think that. I pushed you away so you wouldn’t be seen with me!” he shouts, cutting me off.

“What?”

“The whole town wanted me for murder! Murder! They thought I was running a cult that killed my friend as a sacrifice! My friend! I didn’t want you to be tied to that anymore than you already were, so I pushed you off before the others could see. If someone, somehow went yapping about a girlfriend of mine and things went sideways when we got out of the upside down, you might have gone down with me and I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t. I was going to tell you all of this as soon as I could but you never let me get the chance, and I see why now. I am so sorry it looked like I was embarrassed to be with you, but that will never be the case with me.”

He takes my face in his hands and looks me directly in the eyes.

“You are single-handedly the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out. You have always cared for me and the old Hellfire Club. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you sending cookies on our campaign nights, even after graduating. I remember when I showed up at your house looking for James because some older kids had taken my lunch money in middle school, little you went after them yourself and did one helluva job doing it. You sat me down and cleaned me up. Gave me peas to put on my forehead.”

It was like a forgotten memory was just pulled up by his words, I did remember that.

“I could never be embarrassed by you, ever. I don’t care what people think. I…I love you. And I love your hair, and I love your eyes, and I love your laugh, and I love your stomach and your thighs, and I love your mind. I love you and I hope you can see it. I hope…I hope you can see me,” he finishes off in a very quiet whisper, tilting his head down and away from my eyes.

I place my hands over his that still hold my face.

“I have always seen you, Eddie Munson. Always.”

His head jolts up to look me in the eyes once more.

“God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I know you’re not a horrible person, I should have known, I’m so sorry. God, you were literally being hunted for murder and I was crying about you being embarrassed by me? I’m so fucking sorry.”

I shake my head and take a deep breath.

“I love you, I have for so long. I love the way you smile, I love the way you’re not afraid to take up space, I love the way you’re there for Dustin, the way you were there for me countless times. I love you and your horrible music.”

“Hey, now. Watch it.”

I laugh, “I love you and I see you and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re forgiven, I promise. You didn’t even really need to apologize in the first place.”

“Yes, I did. Because none of that was fair to you.”

“And none of that was fair to you, shortcake. It’s okay.”

I look at his lips, and that’s all the cue Eddie needs to kiss me. Finally. We put our hearts into it, getting lost in each other. Getting lost in our sudden understandings of the other.

“We’re both really kinda stupid aren’t we? Stupid and oblivious,” I say, chuckling quietly.

“Oh, definitely. I mean, we’ve known each other for, what, at least ten years and we couldn’t figure this out without a bunch of drama?”

“It seems very on brand for you actually, you’ve always been one for the dramatics.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #my boyfriend eddie #my writing

1K notes · View notes

itsyagurlchip · 20 days

Text

٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰Down in N'awleans ٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰

✰⋆⁺warnings: alastor(!) ace alastor and reader(!) cussing(!) its hell man idk what to tell u(!) very cultural (!) reader has a strong accent(!) reader is more modern than alastor(!) black reader NOT CAJUN SHE IS NEW ORLEANIAN (!) mentions of gore and blood(!) fem reader(!) angst(!) grieving (!) fluff(!) comfort(!)

✰⋆⁺Im so sad that the only new orleans part of alastor we got to see was a few of his music preferences, and the overused dish jambalaya (as good as it is, its referenced too much when mentioning Louisiana and i sorta hate it-) soooo, as an artist i took matters into my own hands 😈 btw, this is long, so enjoy a piece of my culture!!!

fun fact: did you know that Louisiana has about 400 festivals and events annually? (my favs are strawberry fest, mardi gras, and crawfish fest) btw if anyone is struggling to read it: mardi gras is pronounced madi-grahs. (like ice spice grah 🤪🤪/jj)

✰⋆⁺ Oh what a joy!! Your love Alastor is in hell with you!!! After a whopping 58 years after Alastor's death at 33, with you dying barely at 88 before your birthday, you've finally have found your soulmate!! You're a bit different though, you have a stronger accent, and your tone is..."slangy". Times have changed, but has your love? Of course it does! Alastor couldn't love you more, lovers being apart for too long is straining to one's mental afterall.

"His sister's black, but she is sho'nuff pretty. Her skirt is short, but Lord her legs are sturdy. To walk to school, she's got to get up early. Her clothes are old, but never are they dirty. Living just enough, just enough for the city." You sang, walking along the streets of hell. That song by Stevie Wonder had always brought you comfort...

It gives you a sense of memory, deja vu if you will. Not that you could remember. But you being a young black girl, in the struggles of 1916 brings a comfort to your heart.

...

You closed all eight of your eyes, your afro bouncing as you walked. Walking walking walking. Your dark dress would lift up slightly from the ground, wisping away curiously.

It was pitch black, like your gloves that ran from the tips of your fingers, to the upper part of your arm. If you squint, one could see hints of clear web being shown by light.

People would question why you still wore black even years after your husband's death. Now in hell, you had black skin, and spider appendages on your stomach and hips. How ironic.

You still never answered the question.

Alastor had died at the young age of 33, leaving a 30 year old widow to mourn his passing. That man chiseled his way into your heart and croaked years later. All you could do to keep your emotions in check, was continue your dear husbands work.

The radio station he worked at had begged you to host his morning shows. The town was distraught of his absence. And there's a depression? People were sad, now even more broke, and at the hands of phoney mayors and presidents.

Alastor left a big hole in the role he had as the "Darling of New Orleans". And so did the Bayou Butcher...

What else could you do? Each life you blew off was in honor of your amazing husband. Soon radio was bigger than ever! You'd broadcast the annual 8 killings of casualty due to the new 'Wynoriffic Widow.' This had led on for about 20 years before old age came into play.

You killed 162 people in the name of your love. Never caught, yet never forgotten. You became a big shot, killer and announcer.

While you never had the intrusive thought to do so, you finally understood why Alastor felt a rush of righteousness when he came home after his activities with Mimzy.

Damn Mimzy, the hooch she is. (💀💀)

Let's be honest, the name "Widow" hit too close to home due to recent events, but thats why you only killed eight people per year! And to make things even better, you set 8 things that would happen. 8 games. 8 lines all connecting into a web. And to make things worse for the police, your extermination cravings were sporadic, and not so scheduled.

But it all played out the same.

Something subtle. like a box of rotting spiders at the victim's doorstep.

Next would be a missing, or perhaps "disappearing" passport and driver's license...if they could even afford one.

Now there would be 3 warning letters, the classic "i know what you did". Simple as that.

The second one would be more detailed. Writings of the person's actions would be made for a week before the last and final warning was made.

"Im coming" you wrote in squirrel blood, giggling everytime the person panicked, not knowing it was you all along.

Then nothing....for 2 weeks or so. To lower suspicion per say.

Then its the time to strike. Waiting until exactly midnight to knock out and drag your victim to the very same swamps your beloved died in. You'd take the damned soul, and torture them for as long as you pleased. No matter how many screams, how much blood, their life was in your hands and yours only.

Finally, you'd pray. Pray that this offering of love would suffice for being ripped apart for so long. and as for cleaning up your mess, you'd thank the gators and the wolves for "aiding" with your hobby.

But you began getting old, despite exercising regularly and eating the things your body needed. You couldn't go out and fufill your duties. The one thing that made you happy, second to Alastor. And soon enough you died, welcoming your new fate.

The only thing you questioned was your young appearance. You died of old age, so you didn't understand why you looked like you were 30 again.

You hummed, mimicking a trumpet as you continued your short strides. And here you are now! On the way to reunite with your love once more... it's been far too long.

Welp, it won't be long before you see your life again (despite being dead). Adjusting the big puffs and coils on your head, as well as smoothing down your dress, you knocked onto the hotel door.

Your smile was so big! (You cheeks were starting to hurt from subconsciously doing so much, trying to keep memory of something you once lost).

You looked around yourself as you waited. There was a golden fountain of a majestic dragon creature, with building itself huge yet comfortable. Despite the lights in the front being a bit bright, this place pleased something in your mind.

The door opened for you to see...a short blond man?

"Hello? Is this the Hazbin Hotel?"You asked, restraining and chaining the accent you had, not wanting to be perceived as "ghetto" for the first time.

"Why yes~ Welcome my dear, and what brings you to this place?" The half-pint of a man reached for your arm, kissing it three times before hooking your arm. Your face involuntarily scrunched a bit before coming back to that neutral smile you has once before.

"I would like to see the hotel manager. Alastor, correct?" You asked as the man who tried to pull you forward, even though his head barely surpassed your chest. And surprisingly, for his height i mean, he pulled you along easily.

The lobby was a plethora of shades in red accented with bits of gold, black, and white.

"ugh His office is near the top of the hotel or something Can't miss it. The place sorta looks like a swamp."

"Of course" you mumbled. Thinking about the greenery and fireflies Alastor would take you to see.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothin'!" You smiled, already make your way to the prolonged destination.

Thank god there was an elevator, or you would've screamed. If this place was lavish and beautifully decorated, yet no easy place of transportation for inclusivity, or simply to better convenience of the people living here...

Thought pisses you off.

Hearing the elevator dig, you adjusted yourself again before walking out and looking towards the hallways. Ah, you could see what he meant. While every other door looked like a basic hotel door, the one at the end of the hallway was covered in green glowing floorboards.

It made you tear up, knowing he still had some kind of connection to his home. The fireflies danced around the entrance, enticing you to walk quicker in those heels of yours.

Reaching the door made your body paralyze and vision blur for a second or two. You took a deep breath, and knocked 2 times with a pause, knocking 3 times slower.

It was something you and Alastor did to ensure that the police wasn't at the door, back when you weren't interested in killing.

You hear shuffling, then came a fall and a thump. You hear a woman exclaim in worry. With rushed footsteps came an open door, revealing the one you lost so long ago.

He looked much different, much more red ('to hide the blood' you giggled to yourself'). His skin was more gray than that toned brown, you look up to his head to see...

'is this mf wearing a bob?'

"Alastor! Are you alright?" A doll-like woman came out, in a red suit but the brightest aura.

"Love...?" He ignored her, his knees trembling slightly with his eyes watering.

Next thing you knew you were tackled to the wall, embraced with such longing, infatuation, and a whole new level of care.

"Hello sweetheart..." You combed through his hair, brushing over some antlers, making Alastor shiver in your hold. You smiled, embracing him back with a somber sigh.

"Soooo- The Dappa Demon gotta milf for his troubles?" A white and fluffy man in pink stroller over.

"Um Angel- I dont think now's the time for that-" The Doll woman tried.

"And who is you?" You asked, genuinely curious. Alastor was still hugging you, silent, which is disturbing for a man with a voice like his.

"Da name's Angel Dust sweetpie!" He smirked, looking you up and down. "Why you cuddlin' up to Raspberry Daddy(™) like that?"

"Well, Angel, this raspberry daddy is my husband!" You explained, watching the lanky spider (which you now noticed looked like a spider), blanch before guffawing.

The woman, who you keep on forgetting about, gasped with, which you really hoped wasn't, all of her chest and possibly lungs.

"ALASTOR HAS A WIFE!!! WOW! ITS SUPER NICE TO MEET YOU!!!" She bounced up and down, her blond hair flew up along with it. Speaking of, the short man has blond hair too... welp, aint non of yo business so- "MY NAME IS CHARLIE!! THIS IS THE HAZBIN HOTEL!! AND- AND-"

"Charlie, suga mallow, pause pause! Its nice to meet you too baby!!" You started, "Can we just talk about this, as well as the hotel, in a better setting?- I think doeball needs a moment"

You looked down at Alastor, seeing his ears pinned downwards as well as feeling a small damp puddle on your shoulder.

"Oh! um- okay!! That's completely fine!! Yea! Go do your husband, and uh, wife things!!" Charlie said, pushing you towards Alastor's office once more, prompting you to hold your husband bridal style. You would hate for him to have fallen.

"So we aren't gonna talk about how Alastor isn't an edgy inhuman prince of darkness, gifted to the immunity of normal mortal affection?" Angel asked, still in shock.

The door promptly shut. You looked around his office, which was more of a radio station with shelves and a desk. Everything was in tones of brown, red, and burgundy.

The only thing that set it apart was the glowing green floor, with pale green tree moss around the corners. You smiled as a group of fireflies flew past you two.

You walk towards the chair, sitting down with Alastor's body in your lap, head in your shoulders, like long ago.

You move your hands to his ear, running your fingers through his fur, as well as using your bottom row of arms to turn on the radio, sitting so silently on the desk.

Luckily, for the both of you, calming slow jazz was playing.

"You ready to talk now?" You whispered quietly. His ear twitched before he sat up.

"Yes dear..." He said, his voice barely carrying through the air.

"Well... I wanna start with- where'd you go-?...that night i mean."

The room went silent. You continued to rub his back, feeling his boney spine despite the layers of clothing he dubbed.

Soon words flowed out of him. Like a radio host.

The story he told was one of improv, one he hadn't expected to share for a long time. About his killings, the dogs, his last sight. How his last wish was to kiss you one the lips once more.

And once he finished you told yours.

How much grief you were in. The sudden bloodlust you took after you figured everything out. The way you played with the town's mind. How every body you took was in sacrifice for him. The hope that your love would one day be connected once more, never severed again by dimensions.

The night was filled with silent sobs of two deceased lovers.

In the brief morning, you two caught up with each other. Alastor still liked a lot of the same things he did in the past, but you have changed a lot.

You have an accent. Sometimes you'll replace the word 'are' with 'is' and other times you say 'ain't', or nickname drop people. And when you get angry the accent gets even stronger, humoring him to your irritated dismay.

You can cook now! Before Alastor died, he would cook for the both of you. You managed to burn an expensive pan he got from his mother, he never let you lay a hand on the stove ever again.

You also were more...modern. Luckily not to the point where you were addicted, but it still pissed off Alastor that you had some form of flat screen. You listened to rap occasionally, as well as musicals.

But yet, he couldn't judge you for these new qualities you have. You still have that lovey fro, your beautiful and plump lips, and the way your eyes flow across the room almost brings his rotting heart back to life.

Right now in the kitchen, you two were making beignets in coconut oil. As you rolled the dough out, Alastor questioned your uniqueness of cooking.

"Darling, must you stuff the pastries with dark chocolate? Wouldn't the powdered sugar be enough?"

"Don't worry Baby! m'Made these several times!" You replied. You grabbed the strainer, tossing the raw dough into the hot oil.

"And why coconut oil specifically?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes with a loving smile.

"Cuz! It makes it taste better! Not sure how to 'xplain it, but it just does." You flipped the beignets, ensuring they were golden brown before placing them on the brown paper.

"If you say so, my Dear."

You began to hum softly, to a jazz song you heard on the streets, swaying slowly as you worked. Your husband then held you from behind, swinging with you.

His head was buried in you neck, ears flicking with each tickle of your hair. His arms came underneath yours, holding and pressing your hips.

Plating the food, you set it down in favor of dancing with your love. Dancing to the silent song of adoration, fondness, and care.

Behind the kitchen door, which was slightly propped open, you could hear the excited ramblings of the hotel's owner, making Alastor groan quietly.

"WOW!! They're so cute!!! Omg, they are so sweet together!! EEEEK!!" Charlie exclaimed, struggling to keep her voice down. this made you chuckle sweetly, making the woman utter an apology before leaving.

This is all that you wished for. Your husband, loving and dancing with your soul again. Even if it took a couple of bluenoses to accept it. (cough cough Angel and Husk)

All you could think about were those bands, the trumpets, the parades, Alastor, the food and feel of your homeplace. All of it brang you back, and now you have even more to appreciate.

Dreams do come true, down in N'awleans. Even if it takes years to achieve it.

btw i gave her lore

thx to @sharkdukes on Ao3, i now headcannon that you can offer a soul to a demon, which is what reader was unknowingly doing. Which is half of the reason why Alastor is so powerful at the start in hell-

heavily inspired by @drowninnoodles 's Sugar and Sinnamon on ao3.

as well as @pheavampire for this hilarious art

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و tags: @kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @spongejuice @amorisbackandbetterthanever @cyb3r-st4r if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

as for the playlist, if you couldn't read bc of the font, its titled: Wynorrifcly Widowing. (ik i didn't spell it right stfu) Please lemme know if there are any places where i forgot to finish thoughts.

©KAL pls don't steal, repost, trace, or whatever an art theif does. you can inspire yourself! just tag me to let me know<3

49 notes · View notes

w1ldthoughts · 10 months

Text

Nights in the Hamptons

Series Masterlist

Synopsis: Jack goes to Michael Rubin’s white party and has a surprise waiting for him in his hotel room.

Warning: smut city.

Being in a long distance situationship had its pros and cons. A pro was that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But a con was that…absence makes his heart grow fonder. They hadn’t even had sex yet because Jack was already smelling blood in the water when they messed around during his visit in Miami so he was extremely concerned at where his head and heart would be when they finally did. Sure, he had a steady rotation of women that he was used to entertaining but ever since Zoey entered the picture he felt less inclined to fly girls out just to fuck them. And his Louisville locals were becoming a little overwhelming telling him how incredible he was all the time. He yearned for a challenge and didn’t want to settle for less. And there was no way he was about to settle, not after working his ass off to get to make a name for himself that most people respected.

But he did need to see her again now that he was back from Europe and was thoroughly disappointed when she informed him she’d be unable to escape work in New Jersey to join in on the festivities he’d be partaking in. Michael Rubin had hosted an all white party full of a variety of people in the industry and Jack attended, happily ending up alone at the end of the night. Urban had left him a few minutes ago, opting to ride with some Sports Illustrated model or something along those lines. He opened his hotel room door with a sigh, eager to get back home because Zoey would be flying to Kentucky to help her sister move.

“About time you got here Superstar. I was about to call this whole little surprise off.” Zoey said from her spot on the bed, standing up to pull him in for a long hug when he closed the door.

Jack’s eyes were about to pop out of his head, “I thought you couldn’t make it! You said you had to work.” He cupped her face, giving her warm kisses all over.

She giggled softly in the midst of the attack. “I did but then I finished early this afternoon, texted Mike and asked him what your plans were. And here I am.”

“How was the party?” Zoey asks. The two of them stood firmly against the wall next to the bed, Jack tenderly tucking Zoey’s hair behind her ear.

He gave her a warm smile. “Party was good, I was the dj for a bit, danced a lot, wore a cowboy hat. The usual.”

“And you didn’t bring it back here with you because…you hate me?”

“Well for one, I didn’t know you’d be here, and two, I didn’t know you were into cowboys?” Jack raises his eyebrows.

“You’ve never heard the song ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy?’” He rolls his eyes, “it’s a damn shame cause I definitely wanted to do something along those lines right now. Guess I’ll have to get creative.” Zoey states pensively, running her hands along his barely clothed chest. The sheer material he was wearing left very little to the imagination and she made a mental note to thank whoever picked it out.

“That’s literally the main part of your job,” he chuckles out, their noses touching. “I think you can figure something out. I’ll help.” He finished his thought with a coy smile.

The kiss he gives her afterwards sets her world on fire, destroying any emotional and physical barrier she had carefully built. She was ready to share the most delicate parts of herself with him and there was no time to overthink her next moves as she operated on pure instinct. Those instincts told her to pull him down into bed on top of her, his cold hand slipping under her shirt. She quickly worked to take it off.

Jack pulled away slightly, physically restraining himself. “We should stop now.” He whispered, already half hard and he positive she could feel it. “I need to take a cold shower or something—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Zoey reassures him. She could tell he was still confused so she quickly put him out of his misery. “I wanna keep going, I’m ready.”

“Are—are you sure?” He stammers out. “Because I can definitely just—“

“I need you, Jack.”

After helping her slip her shirt the rest of the way off, he leaned down, pressing another gentle kiss to her lips and moved to her neck. The soft moan he heard when he got to a certain spot almost sent him into orbit but he wanted to take his time. His pillowy lips were on her jaw, collar and hip bone and he hooked an arm around her waist, using the other hand to slip off her shorts and underwear. Jack’s fingertips lightly traced her labia, letting out a shaky breath at the small amount of slick he was met with.

“I’ve been thinking about this moment for an embarrassingly long time.” He whispers with a laugh. Zoey reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, one of her hands snaking their way into his curls.

Soft whines escaped her when one finger slid in between her folds, ever so slowly.

“Fuck you are so pretty. I’m gonna find your sweet spot and take care of you, sound good baby?” He rasped out, inserting another finger and used his thumb to rub her clit.

The way her body responded to the stimulation had all the hairs on his body standing at attention. He continued his intricate motion of massaging her g-spot carefully, mentally celebrating the ability to make her squirm and writhe in his arms, letting out soft curses.

Zoey’s legs stiffened and her back arched once again as she slowly came down from her high, uttering another short moan when his fingers exited her body. She sat there in awe as he licked her slick off of his fingers, gave her a wet kiss and walked over to his bag to grab a condom.

He climbed back into bed and slipped the rubber on, lining himself up against her opening. The sensation was overwhelming, feeling every inch of him as he thrust in and out of her, quickly finding his groove.

“Holy fuck J…that feels so fu—cking good.” She pants, feeling the blissful stretch and wanting more. His movements quickened a bit, muffled grunts sounding out from his mouth against her shoulder, their fingers intertwined on either side of her head. The joint sounds of pleasure successfully drown out the noise of his balls slapping against her delicate flesh.

Jack lets out a hiss feeling Zoey’s inner walls squeeze around him when she approached her second orgasm. “Are you close? Cause I’m so—I’m so fucking close.” He sighs and all she can do is nod through pursed lips.

A few more tender shoves leave his entire body buzzing and left his legs shaking as he pulled out of her with a breathy sigh. He laid down beside her, placing a mundane kiss to the side of her slightly sweaty head.

“You feeling okay? Was it good?” He muttered in a hushed tone, slightly worried about her answer.

Zoey takes one look at him before sitting up to give him a giggle filled kiss. “It was perfect, you were perfect.”

“Great because…I was thinking we go again in like 30 minutes.” He responds, running his fingers along her back, pulling the thin sheet over her.

She cuddled into him a little bit more. “I like the way you think, Jackman.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow smut #jackman thomas harlow #jack x zoey #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow imagine

153 notes · View notes

sailorgundam308 · 2 months

Text

Being the angst sucker that I am (but also a coward that doesn’t want to feel too depressed about bad endings), I headcanon a lot about the dynamics and end/post game canons for Astarion and Karlach as a couple (no shit!).

I know a lot of people ship Karlach with Dammon. I obviously don’t, but not because I think they don’t fit well together or whatever. I have this thing in my head of how I view Karlach which puts her relationship with Astarion as more realistic, more fulfilling, and more attractive to me (duh).

Dammon as a character is a nice, hard working guy. He’s also crazy handsome, has the hots for Karlach and some mechanics knowledge to be able to help her a bit. So yea, cool. I like him a lot so that’s not it.

BUT.

Just gonna blurt it out: I think Karlach is too fucked up to be with him in the canon universe we have. It’s a similar reason I have for how I see her reaction to the love test in the Circus in Act 3, which I made a post about. Had Karlach never been betrayed by Gortash, had not been irreversibly damaged (in more ways than one) and not been transformed by her 10 years ordeal, Dammon would be the ‘perfect pairing’ for her - a gentle, good hearted, generous and hot piece of ass. Thumbs up.

HOWEVER.

She’s not that girl anymore. She keeps it bottled up, pushes it down and shuts herself to what her trauma did to her and while it’s commendable, imo, it’s not real. She wants it to be so bad because she’s got so little time and is desperately clinging to her life before she started making mistakes (now being back in the Material Plane after so long). If she doesn’t die, though, she won’t keep this up forever. She’s carrying pain, remorse, ANGER, jealousy, self pity. A LOT of it. Much more than she let out in her post-Gortash breakdown. All these are very human emotions, and very understandable in her situation. She also changed, physically, mentally, emotionally. She grew, she learned- and it wasn’t all pretty and nice things. I like the idea that she’s being the most genuine character in the game while ALSO being the one wearing the most impenetrable mask. It’s wild and damn cool to see her through that lens.

Which brings me to Astarion.

He is also wearing a mask, but a much more frail one. He’s cracked. He tells and shows us these ugly emotions, his selfishness and hurt, much more directly than Karlach does. He’s broken, wicked, mean. It’s clear his trauma completely changed him (though I don’t think he was a good guy before it either), and is entrenched into who he is when we meet him - and will continue to be part of him even after he heals.

I think Karlach is attracted to him not in spite of how mean he is - but because of it. I don’t think she’s aware of it, though. She says something about Astarion having a good heart beneath it all - and while he might have something like a better heart inside that can be rescued, he’s not inherently good, nor he was before being turned (nor he wants to be). The dynamic of Karlach using goodness and positivity as a lifeline, as if to counter the decade of (literally) pure evil she’s been forced to endure, while also ‘surprisingly’ getting along so well with Astarion from the start, also being attracted to his wickedness, gives an incredible depth to their relationship. I see not only the idea of Karlach’s kindness, non-judgement and patience being a refuge for Astarion, but Astarion’s grey personality being a refuge where Karlach will be able to let her walls down - show the ugliness bottled up inside - without fear or shame, and knowing it will be completely and utterly understood. Astarion will never judge her for whatever impulses or thoughts she might have, for displays of selfishness, jealousy or violence. Imo, they can even work some of those out together (wink wink, but not only in that way lol). At the same time, I do believe Astarion saw from the first glance he had at Karlach (or in the first couple of days) that she carried a pain much like his. It’s why he respects her, why he is so quick to apologize to her and only to her, why he feels empathy for her suffering while being absolutely cold to the others. She’s the first one who gives him the opportunity of allowing himself to feel safe, to let his guard down if only for a night. His connection with her might be based on a selfish start (it’s about him - she is like him), but it grows to be more complex as they grow closer. I see him slowly falling in love with her as a parallel to him slowly learning to love himself, to forgive himself.

It’s all so beautiful, poetic and layered and shit (wow, me so eloquent).

But in all honesty, that’s all to say, while I think Karlach and Dammon look nice together, I see him as being the person who’d have been the one for her if she was just Karlach Cliffgate. However, she is not. She is Karlach Cliffgate and she is also Karlach Demonsbane - and for that ‘her’, Astarion - with his imperfections, his wicked ways and his darkness - is the one who truly fits her perfectly (or imperfectly, which imo is even better).

Thank you for reading all this rambling. I love rambling and will (can) never stop so good for you :V

AGH I LOVE bittersweet gritty messy romanceeeeeeee (but I wanna give them a better ending than the one in game - though if the patches weren’t broken, it’s improved a bit already)

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 ramblings #bg3 character analysis #bg3 ship analysis #(is that a thing)#astarion x karlach #karlach x astarion #karlach #astarion #hellspawn #starlach #fireblood #why I love this ship so much #you can go so deep #and it’s not a fairy tale bs #it feels real #YUM

47 notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

Text

The Night Nurse ~ Chapter 10

A John Wick x Helen Fic

Masterlist / Chapter Map

Author's note: It's been a minute since I posted on this fic, I'm so sorry!! I lost a good chunk of this chapter to an untimely computer update (fuck you very much Windows) and I was so frustrated I just had to let it sit for a while. BUT I finally managed to re-write it, so here we are! I hope you enjoy! 💗💗💗 (Oh and the illustrations here are from the turn of the century version of Afanasyev's Russian Fairy Tales, the book John hid his marker in, in JW3...you'll see why.😉)

Times gets tough

Oh, they get tougher

Hold on to me

I got you, darling…

-I’ll be your man, The Black Keys

The walls of his library were lined with built-in bookshelves, filled to the brim with antique and vintage books. A single leather reading chair sat in the corner with a lamp and a small table. A larger table took up the center of the room with a proper book cradle. Helen breathed in, reveling in the magical smell of old books. She realized that this must be where John gets some of that intoxicating scent of his, bottom notes of leather and parchment paper. The chair in the corner looked well-worn, and she imagined him spending hours of his downtime just sitting and reading away the day.

For the umpteenth time, it squeezed her heart to the point of pain.

Throughout the course of the tour, they did not let go of each other once. John didn’t seem to mind handling books with one mitt of a hand, the fingers of his left laced tightly with Helen’s.

“Do you still have your book of Russian fairy tales?”

“Yes.” Gingerly he pulled it from a shelf, resting it in the cradle on the table.

They perused the book together, Helen leaning against his shoulder. He was warm, and solid as a tree, and for a heady moment it was difficult to concentrate on the antique tome, no matter how beautiful. The illustrations were utterly gorgeous, and she mentally kicked herself into focusing. She thought about a young John toting this beloved book around the world with him like a Lost Boy with his teddy bear, and the thought succeeded in tying her up in inextricable knots.

John turned to a page of an illustration of a lovely peasant woman in the woods, holding a torch made of a glowing human skull. “Oh, who’s that?” asked Helen.

“That’s Vasilisa the Beautiful,” answered John.

She hovered her finger over the first line of Cyrillic, careful not to touch the paper. “What does it say?”

John read it aloud, his voice low and all for her, and she sighed a little, not understanding a syllable. For some reason hearing him speak another language so easily, and something about the lilting cadence of the language in his deep voice, the soft shh and musical ya sounds of the Russian words inspired a curl of lust in her belly, a small thrill zipping down her spine. She shuddered lightly, and prayed he hadn’t noticed.

He absolutely noticed, his pupils blowing wide with desire. Doggedly, he kept them fixed upon the page below.

“Is that, ‘Once upon a time’…in Russian?”

“Something like that. This is a Cinderella story about a young woman who outsmarts her wicked stepmother and the Baba Yaga with her determination and the help of her magical doll. It’s one of my favorites.”

He’d seen a bit of himself in Vasilisa as a young man, straining under the yoke of his unforgiving masters. He turned the page to reveal a witchy old woman riding in what looked like an upright log. Helen couldn’t suppress a grin. “Oh look, it’s you, Baba Yaga.”

John snorted at that. “I still don’t know what idiot started that damned nickname,” he groused.

Actually, he suspected it was Marcus, but he’d never found out for certain.

“It sounds fierce, at least.”

His lips twisted in a smirk, and he couldn’t help himself from turning to look at her, then. Their faces were torturously close. “Think I should get some flaming skull torches for out front?”

“Yes, I think the neighbors would love that,” she deadpanned, and more felt than heard John’s responding chuckle.

He turned the page to a new illustration of a strapping knight on a black horse. “Oh hello, handsome. Who’s this guy?”

John narrowly resisted the urge to ask if she had a thing for men in black, even as that telling warmth clouded his brain.

“That’s…Night.”

“The night Knight?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Her lips twisted in a cheeky smile. “Nice. I like him.”

“You would.”

“I have excellent taste, John.”

He found himself looking at her mouth again, thinking her taste would be excellent. For the umpteenth time, he managed not to kiss her by the skin of his teeth. By the way she was looking at him...maybe he didn't need to be exercising such restraint. But maybe that was the excellent wine talking

Maybe he really was an idiot.

“So...in reward for being clever Baba Yaga gives Vasilisa one of the skull torches. She takes it back to her house, and when she lights the candles her wicked step mother and awful step sisters burn up.”

“Oooh. And she lives happily ever after?”

“Well...she marries the tsar, for what that's worth.”

Helen wrinkled up her nose, communicating her opinion on that. “Overall, I give it a nine out of ten.”

John couldn’t help it then. He actually grinned, showing teeth. “Glad you liked it.”

“Thanks for sharing with me.”

“My pleasure.”

She was still leaning on his shoulder, and was it him, or had she somehow sidled even closer, her body pressed to his side? Her eyes traveled leisurely from him to the book to the chair in the corner. It was then that she noticed that the bookmarked novel on the side table was a mass-market paperback she recognized quite well.

He’d taken her recommendation on the Codename Villanelle spy thrillers, despite teasing her about her taste in books, what felt like a lifetime ago that fateful night in the subway. The fact that he was on the second one touched her to no end, and she squeezed his arm.

“Aww, you’re reading about Eve and Villanelle,” she purred. “You like them?”

“Yes. You were right, they are fun.”

“Taking notes from Villanelle?” The Russian spy was wickedly clever at finding ways to kill her targets.

“Maybe. That poison hair stick was something. Think I could pull it off?” Helen reached up to curl a lock of his dark hair around her finger with a smile, and John couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation of her touching his hair.

He was hopeless.

“Oh, definitely. You could so rock the man-bun.”

John rolled his eyes at that, reluctant to admit that he often did when training.

Helen looked back to the book, now with what John was learning to recognize as a sly glint in her eye. “I’m on practically the same spot in that book,” she noted. “Want to read me a chapter?”

John looked at his reading chair, the comfortable old soldier that it was. It was also the only place to sit in the room, and he went a little cross-eyed at the thought of Helen curled up in his lap in it.

There would be zero reading done, of that he was certain. He would debauch her for the first time in that chair, and maybe again on the table for good measure.

A virulent heat licked at his collar as he imagined it. Fuck him, but she was making him blush.

“Sure. Let’s take it to the living room,” he proposed, ignoring her lips pursed in a theatrical pout.

Minx. She knew exactly what she was doing to him—and he was increasingly unsure why he wasn’t just letting her have her way.

He scooped up the paperback book, her hand still firmly clasped in his other while he led them back to the recessed living room. He set the book down on the couch. “Want another glass of wine? I’m going to clear these dishes.”

He needed to clear his head, and he felt Helen look at him with some disappointment that felt a little bit like being stabbed.

“Can I help you?”

“No, this is your night off. Sit, relax. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” She seated herself on the couch with only the book for company.

She watched John practically flee into the kitchen, and wondered if she’d done something wrong.

Regaled by the sound of clinking dishes and the faucet running, Helen looked around at John’s shelves. They were rather bare, though she noticed he had a bit of a CD collection on display. It plucked at her nostalgia for the days before everything could be so easily accessed via the hand-held computers known as phones but so rarely used for actually talking.

Standing, she decided to be nosy and thumb through them. He seemed to favor classics, from classical music, to rock and blues. There was very little on the shelf dating from past the 90s, and that made her smile for some reason.

“See anything you like?”

She turned to find John with two freshly-filled wine glasses in tow. He set them on the coffee table, before joining her at the built-in cd tower.

“Some good stuff here,” she agreed with a Chili Peppers cd in her hand. The fiery pool with the ocean in the background on the cover tickled the nostalgia center in her brain for sure. “Who are these guys?” She pulled out a black and white album with a high contrast photo of a guy with glasses, and a bearded dude.

“Never heard of the Black Keys?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, honey.”

She chuckled. “Ok, do not pull the my taste in music is better than yours card. I will leave.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he defended with a sly close-lipped smile. “I reserve that card only for books.”

She snorted in answer, and found herself gravitating closer to him, even just standing there looking at his music. She just couldn’t help it.

That really was some good wine he served with dinner.

She watched as he popped open the jewel case, feeding the CD into the slot of his player. He hit a couple buttons, and the speakers erupted with a very bluesy distorted guitar riff. It was loud, and John laughed a little as she jumped—conveniently, into his arms.

“Sorry.” He turned down the volume slightly, his arms circling her waist almost of their own volition. It felt so easy, being with her. Maybe from the very moment they’d met, it just felt like she should be in his arms, and acting on it made something loud and uneasy always clamoring in the back of his brain to go quiet. She swayed her head and shoulders a little to the beat; it was impossible not to.

“John?” she asked from beneath his chin, brushing the soft scruff of his beard with her nose. It filled him with a tingling warmth, in the very marrow of his bones, a pleasure in this closeness that just seemed too good to be true. It was like a drug, better than cocaine or heroin or anything else he’d ever tried, and he didn’t know how he would ever let her go.

“Yeah?”

“They made you learn ballet at your…school, but do you like to dance?”

He’d spent so much time in night clubs, hunting, and acting as backup muscle for Tarasov while he closed business deals, but it wasn’t a setting he really enjoyed. He wasn’t sure he really classified the writhing and arm waving one engaged in at the club as dancing. He was familiar with other dance forms, but they didn’t come up often in his life.

“I feel like you’re actually asking me a different question,” he teased, leaning into her to reach out to skip to a different track.

“I am?”

“You’re asking if I want to dance with you?”

The first metallic notes of Dan Auerbach’s guitar rang out, and John swayed to the beat, a hand on her svelte waist pinning her close. With a smile she moved with him, her other hand finding his.

“Do you?”

He looked down at her with a glint of mischief in those shining dark eyes, and so much warmth that a flood of heat washed through her from her hair follicles all the way to her toes. This man. She really would follow him anywhere. Maybe the wine they’d drank lubricated this thought process, but she knew that didn’t make it any less true.

John knew that his answer to any question that involved an activity with her would be a resounding yes. Groceries? Yes. The dentist? Fine. Just hold his hand. He was broken for her.

“Of course I do.” He lifted his arm to guide her in a turn before pulling her close again, and she simply couldn’t help it. The joy in her heart soared.

Then the vocals in the song began, and Helen couldn’t help the fuzzy warmth that spread in her chest. Need a new love? I’m ready. Want my time? I’m willing.

There wasn’t a huge amount of open space in the living room, but John was very good at making do, leading her in steps to the beat, throwing in fun checks and turns and behind-the-back maneuvers that made her giggle. She knew she sounded drunk. It was on him though, far more than the wine. He made her happier than any one had in a very long time. Maybe ever, if she was being honest with herself.

To make things even worse, the chorus of the song rang loud in her ears with the infectious guitar riff: I’ll be your man. Mmm, I’ll be your man. She didn’t know if he picked this song on purpose for the lyrics, or the intoxicating rhythm, but she felt it in her bones, and in her heart, and every cell of her being; she was so attuned to this man.

She almost tripped when he attempted to twist her up like a pretzel in a figure-eight step, but he caught her, laughing with her as he held her close.

“I’m not that good,” she apologized, clinging to him more than she really needed to. He was just…so solid, and if she was being honest all she really wanted to do was climb him like a fucking tree.

His arm around her waist was like a warm band of iron, and he smiled gently down at her. She felt herself melting like chocolate in the sun, her knees gone weak beneath her.

“That’s ok. I’ve got you.”

She couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped from her throat. Because, she knew it was true, and not just here being silly dancing in his living room. She realized she trusted him not to drop her no matter what they were doing, or what they were facing. That kind of faith in another person, much less a man, was a rare and precious thing.

“John…” she said softly, looking up into his warm dark eyes from so very close. She wasn’t sure if she was asking a question, or if she just needed to cite his name like a prayer, invoke him like a saint in her personal pantheon. Maybe it was madness, but wrapped up in his arms like this, he felt like something to believe in.

Her eyes drifted down to his mouth, those full lips she’d coveted since the moment they’d met, if she was telling the truth.

This was the moment that John’s will to fight it broke at last. He felt it inside, not like a hard snap, but a definite release, like a boat coming unmoored, being swept down a swift stream. There was no more resisting. He was lost to her.

Pulled like a magnet, he finally leaned in that fraction of distance to press his lips to hers. His kiss was like a sunrise in her heart; warm and bursting, soft and sweet. She couldn’t stop herself from standing on tiptoe with a low moan, looping her arms around his neck as she pressed her body against his. It won her something like a deep growl that thrilled her to her toes, and greedily she wanted more.

She teased the seam of his mouth with her tongue, begging entrance he gladly granted. She felt the tremor in his arms as he held her, so tightly that he nearly lifted her from the floor. He kissed her like a starving man offered a life-giving meal, and her fingers fisted in his hair at the back of his head, holding him to her, holding on.

His heartbeat a thundering timpani in his ears, John felt like Helen’s lips on his was the answer to a question his heart had been asking his whole adult life. She was the air he breathed, the sustenance necessary to live, and the desire to drink her down, to eat her up, was a dogged, insistent demand from the darkest depths of his soul.

He never wanted to let her go.

With a ragged breath he pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, his fingers digging into her sides. She might have bruises later.

She didn’t mind.

She wanted his hands, rough or gentle.

She wanted all of him, and if he didn’t return his mouth to hers she was going to scream.

“Helen,” he panted. “I—”

The tinny electronic sound of his phone ringing in his pocket interrupted what might have been a foolish—or a life changing—confession. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, knowing he had to answer it. That was the deal with the devil he’d signed, when he didn’t really have any better choice. He was on call all the time.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

She nodded, but did not extricate herself, leaning on his shoulder while he pulled the device from his pocket. It was Viggo Tarasov, and his heart dropped like a stone. It was rare that the boss Himself called. He absolutely had to answer it, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t like what his pakhan had to say.

With a heavy heart he lifted the phone to his ear, his other arm still wrapped possessively around Helen.

“Da?”

“Good evening, John.”

John fought to keep the impatient snarl out of his tone, but feared he failed royally. “Evening, Viggo.”

“I’ve just heard some interesting things about your latest adventures about town. I think we need to talk.”

That was probably the understatement of the century.

“When?”

“Now.”

Of fucking course.

“I can be there in an hour.”

“Good.”

Viggo hung up, and John clenched the phone in his fist, fighting not to throw it across the room. He knew Helen heard every word for the way she sighed with disappointment, snuggling into the bend of his neck. The sensation of her front molded to his was heaven, and he didn’t know how to let her go.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized with lips to her forehead. “I have to go.”

“I understand.” There was some consolation, in that she sounded as devastated as he was.

“You’ll be ok here? My house is your house. Help yourself to anything you want.”

She made a kittenish little sound that sent all his blood straight to his groin. “What I want is leaving,” she informed him with a pouting lip, tugging on the front of his shirt.

He couldn’t stop himself then from stealing another kiss, a deep and probing thing that left her breathless and starry-eyed.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told her.

“Promise?”

“Yes.” John wondered what Viggo had in store. If he was in trouble, or if his boss would send him out to teach the Medvedev boys a lesson tonight. He didn’t want to go hunting that night. Everything he truly wanted in the world, he realized, was standing right in front of him, looking up at him with melted toffee eyes. He cupped her cheek, memorizing every detail of her all over again.

He realized with a startling clarity that he could never get enough of her.

The intensity of his stare sent a thrill jetting down her spine. “John…” He worried her a little, when he got like this. She wasn’t afraid of him, exactly—but some little intuition in the back of her brain sang out that something bad might happen.

“It’ll be alright,” he told her, sensing her unease. “I have to change.” He kissed her forehead again, and disappeared up the stairs to his room.

Helen plopped down on the couch with a sigh, crushed with disappointment but knowing this was how it was, and she understood more than ever now that it wasn’t his fault or his choice. She picked up the Villanelle book, No Tomorrow, stroking her thumb over the cover, but not cracking it open.

When John stalked down the stairs he was wearing one of his slim-fit all black suits again, his hair slicked back from his face. He looked beautiful, and predatory, sleek as a panther stalking in the jungle, and fierce attraction warred with dread in Helen’s breast. She had a feeling that someone might die tonight, and it was so strange to think in those terms with such a sense of acceptance.

At least she knew John’s prey would be no one innocent.

“Don’t forget you owe me a chapter,” she said in a sing song tone as he approached, waving the book, trying to lighten the pall that had fallen upon the room.

The smile he paid her was filled with melancholy; she felt it like a knife between the ribs. “I won’t,” he assured her, taking her hand to press his lips to her knuckles. He paused, looking down at this beautiful woman seated on his couch, with her legs that went on forever and the warmth in her eyes all for him. There was nothing he wanted more, than to stay there with her. To lay her down and kiss every inch of her perfect flesh. He probably should have told her that, but he just sighed, and let her go.

“I’m going to leave this here, just in case,” he said, all business as he showed her a blocky black automatic pistol. “There’s one in the chamber. All you have to do is pull the trigger. It has a long trigger pull but please do not touch it unless you need it, and be very careful.” He stashed the Glock in a drawer beside the couch. “I’ll leave the alarm on. If it goes off I’ll get an alert on my phone.”

With wide eyes she nodded. “Do you…think the Medvedevs will come here?”

“No, or I wouldn’t leave you here alone.” He honestly thought this was the safest place for her. “But…” One never knows.

“Okay.” He could tell that he managed to scare her a little, and he hated himself for it.

“I’m being paranoid,” he tried to assure her. He dared add, “Because you’re precious to me.” She softened then, and stood to wrap her arms around his neck once more. Embracing her was as intoxicating as kissing her, and again John warred with himself as to how he was going to leave.

“Come back to me,” she demanded softly, kissing the soft scruff of his cheek.

“Always,” he answered without allowing himself to think about it, pressing his lips to hers in a long, gentle kiss filled with all the yearning in his heart.

Reluctantly, he slipped from her grasp, and didn’t look back.

She watched him go, admiring his tall dark form even as he was leaving her.

She heard the roar of the Mustang starting in the garage, and the trail of its growl as it prowled across the driveway, disappearing down the street into the night. She couldn’t help but feel like her heart sped away with it.

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x helen #helen wick #john wick the night nurse #keanu reeves

40 notes · View notes

captain-mj · 9 months

Text

Vampires Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Soap sat at the table right after sunset. His vampires, Price, and now Chuy, because apparently he decided to invite himself in, were sitting with him. Chuy was wearing his outfit again, deer skull included. It made him look very unnerving.

“So your fiance will be here soon?”

Price nodded excitedly. “Yep. She’s wonderful.”

“She?” Ghost laughed before realizing he was serious. “Ah. Damn. Seriously?”

Price frowned. “I’m bisexual.”

“I know, I just thought better of women. Even witch women.” Ghost replied, shrugging.

Price stared at him, slightly opened mouthed. “Damn. Cold, Simon.”

“Ghost.”

“Simon. Anyway, she’ll be here shortly. Her name is Clara.” He looked so happy that Soap couldn’t help but feel happy for him. Even if he was pretty sure Price was being used.

Alejandro hummed. “Right. Anyway.”

Rodolfo raised his hand. “I don’t really care about your fiance, I’m more worried about the hunter walking around talking about bigfoot. Can we focus on that?”

“No. you guys gotta meet my fiance.”

“Fuck that.” Alejandro spoke up. “I agree with my lovely husband.” He kissed Rudy’s hand, looking at him with giant heart eyes.

Ghost groaned. “Do you guys have to be so in love?”

“Loser.”

“Lonely ass bitch.”

Ghost frowned. “Goddamn…”

Price hissed loudly and they all turned towards him. He looked a little flustered, as if they weren’t actually supposed to hear him. He took a deep breath. “As the eldest vampire, I am requesting you guys please meet her.” It was said with a touch of… sincerity that had been absent from Price in a wild.

Interviewer: I’ve been meaning to ask. Ghost puts up with Price because he’s his sire. Rodolfo seems to like him. However, you don’t seem to like him.

Alejandro: Don’t know. Guess I miss how he was. Sometimes it feels like I got the last few years of lucidity. He probably told he was four hundred years older than Ghost right?

Interviewer: I thought he said two hundred.

Alejandro: He told Rodolfo a hundred. I thought for the longest time it was just something he did, but I think he just doesn’t remember.

Interviewer: Ah. And the comment about lucidity.

Alejandro: I think he’s half insane. It happens. Mentally, being alive a long time… it makes things tiring.

Interviewer: I noticed the way you looked away when Rodolfo asked if you regretted being turned. Do you?

Alejandro: No. Course not. I love my husband.

Interviewer: I can see your love and devotion to him. But I’m asking, do you wish you died human?

Alejandro: Sometimes, I do. I wish Rodolfo killed me that night. However, I’d never want to make him go through the centuries alone, so I’m glad I am here with him.

Interviewer: Thank you, Alejandro.

“Alright, sir.” Ghost mumbled. “I’ll meet Clara.” He smiled, eyes crinkling.

Price smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you, Simon. Rodolfo, Alejandro, Gaz, I hope you all like her.”

Simon and Chuy looked at each other and shook their heads.

Gaz hummed. “Will it be super awkward?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Gaz nodded. “That sounds nice. Like chicken soup after a hard day. I’m in.”

Interviewer: So do you regret turning into a vampire?

Gaz: How do you know I wasn’t born an energy vampire?

Interviewer: Oh, were you? That’s fascinating.

Gaz: No, I mean I was turned. Just why did you assume?

Interviewer: I mean. I just thought all vampires were turned. Who was your sire?

Gaz: My mom when she birthed me. I lied, I was born.

Interviewer canceled the rest of the interviewer due to “broken pencils”.

Price smiled fondly at Gaz before quickly going to get the door, answering before Clara even had the chance to knock. She giggled as he picked her up and twirled her before leading her to the kitchen.

“Oh this is nauseating.”

Rodolfo hit Ghost. “They’re cute.”

They kissed passionately.

“Nevermind.” Rodolfo hissed under his breath. “Clara?”

Clara quickly pushed Price back a little and properly introduced herself. She was how described. Dark hair and nice.

Too nice.

Soap liked her. She shook his head and smiled at him before moving on to them.

“Oh!” Clara said softly while staring at Ghost. “You must be Simon.”

Price flinched and looked guilty. And a tiny bit betrayed, as if he had warned her prior.

“Don’t call me that.” Ghost got up. “Okay, this is horrible. I need to leave.”

Price grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. “A little effort.”

“Don’t call me something stupid.”

Price sighed and plastered a smile on his face. “Ghost.” He introduced everyone there to Clara and Clara waved just a little. She didn’t look at Price much, but when she did, she did look like she liked him. Maybe not love in any of their opinions, but that’s okay. Maybe it would blossom?

If they stayed together long enough.

Maybe.

The two of them stared at each other for just a second and Chuy got uncomfortable.

“Alright. I’m gonna head out.”

Clara frowned a little before perking up. “I’ve heard about a hunter in this area. Hope you’re doing okay and he hasn’t given you too many problems.”

Chuy faltered and shrank down when Reyes got brought up. Ghost wondered why he didn’t just have them get rid of the guy. It would be easier.

“Well… yeah. He’s uh… Yeah…”

Clara noticed his hesitance and decided to drop it.

They had a delightful conversation honestly.

Price informed them all that the wedding would be that Friday. “Because of the goddess Freyja. May she bless our marriage.” He smiled, showing fangs.

Rodolfo looked at the interviewer, clearly cringing.

“That sounds wonderful.”

“May Clara stay here until then? We’re having the ceremony in the graveyard nearby.” Price took his hat off and held it to his chest in a pleading manner.

Collective groans occurred before they agreed. She could stay.

Interviewer: The vampires think you’re after Price for his… uh…

Clara: His money? No. I’m rich enough actually.

Interviewer: No his… um… Dick?

Clara: It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not that artificial. I just want his heart.

Interviewer: That’s sweet.

Gaz put his hands on the table. “Before I ask this, I promise not to feed on anyone.”

Price nodded. “Okay.”

“Can I bring Alex?”

“That dog?” Price groaned.

Alejandro started to look at face masks and Febreze.

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend. You can’t tell me he’s not attractive.”

Soap nodded. “And really cool too.”

“See! And he doesn’t smell bad. He smells like cologne because he drowns himself in it before he comes here.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

Gaz sighed. “If he can’t come, I’m not coming.”

Price rubbed his temples. “Alright. He can come. Have him invite Laswell too.”

“At that point, why not invite the rest of the pack?” Alejandro pointed out, frowning. More out of confusion than anything else now.

“Fair. Let’s just invite all of them. And Chuy. And Koenig if the lad can ever make it here. I heard he was coming to our area a while ago.” Price pointed out.

Ghost hummed. “I’ll reach out to him through the ether later.”

“Fantastic idea!” Price clapped, looking very excited. “I’m getting married again!”

Interviewer: So, why do you want to kill bigfoot so bad?

Reyes: Bigfoot took someone very dear to me.

Interviewer: You want revenge?

Reyes: Yes. Bigfoot took… well. I shouldn’t say boyfriend. We were neighbors. Jesus. He was beautiful. He was kind. Rather generous but could set harsh boundaries if needed. I fell in love with him more every time we interacted. I watched that thing disappear from his home the same night he disappeared.

Interviewer: And why a crossbow?

Reyes: Well, the majority of hunters use them. They’re quieter, easier to certain materials, and you can reuse arrows. Plus, a lot of creatures aren’t hurt by bullets and needed something sharp that will pierce them.

Interviewer: Fascinating. Thank you so much. What else do you hunt?

Reyes: Well, normally I hunt and kill werewolves but since the night happened, bigfoot is all I have my eyes on.

Interviewer: Understood. And where are your plans now?

Reyes: To break into the Scottish man’s home because I know he’s harboring monsters.

Interviewer: How can you tell?

Reyes: Only someone who knows of monsters listens to advice from someone who’s a monster hunter. He didn’t take me seriously, so he wasn’t paranoid.

Interviewer: That’s smart.

Reyes stayed true to his word. He caught them by surprise because the interviewer wasn’t going to interfere there. With his crossbow in hand, he aimed right at Chuy. Deer skull shining in the cryptic light of the room.

“You bastard. I am finally getting my revenge against you.”

Chuy perked up when he came into the room. Not flinched or shrank or looked to leave. He leaned into Reyes’s aim. Soap thought he was an odd fellow.

“Why?” Rodolfo interrupted his clearly well thought out speech. He was currently sewing and seemed a bit put off about being interrupted. Everyone else was around doing similar hobbies now that Price had stopped talking to them. Even Soap was just casually drawing.

Reyes stumbled over it, caught off guard. “As I was about to explain.”

Clara snapped her fingers. There was no blast or light. Just a simple sound.

Reyes swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Ah…. I was saying…” He paused again and this time frowned. His nose twitched and all the bravado left him.

The man shook and shuddered, not fully reacting yet but clearly something… internal was happening.

Chuy stood and rushed to grab Reyes who tried to get away from him. Soap prepared himself to watch Chuy rip the man to shreds but before Chuy could even lift his mask to uncover his mouth, Reyes shrank and contorted. His body twisted and curled, enough to drag ragged, pained groans before they transitioned into squeaks. The shirt in Chuy’s hands stayed solid but the rest dissolved and bubbled into the rest of him. And in his place stood.

A rat.

Well groomed and with fur as dark as Reyes’s hair. It looked soft. Almost cute.

Chuy scooped him up immediately. “Enzo?”

The rats frantic movements to escape halted as it went still, looking at Chuy with wide rat eyes.

Chuy slid the mask off, revealing his face to the rat who continued to stare.

“Mi corazón. I am so sorry. I was so bored with my old life, I never anticipated anyone noticing me being gone. Yes, I lived as your neighbor your years, but I never realized how you looked at me.”

Alejandro stopped playing the piano. The room was silent.

“I noticed you but you were human. I couldn’t… drag you into this world when it’s so unsafe.”

If Ghost put his hand on Soap, it wasn’t noticeable.

“I live so long. I wanted to start new. Do something completely different. You were… new. So fun. Interesting. As you chased me, I will admit, I grew affectionate for you. Maybe that was my mistake, putting you in such danger.” Chuy gently pet the rat, watching it relax. “Mi corazón, can you understand me?”

No response.

“That is okay. It’s best you still don’t know my affections. You should go home. Be human like you’re supposed to be.”

Chuy gently held the rat. “My sweet Enzo.” He took a deep breath and held him out to Clara. “I appreciate what you did. But I’d like you to turn him back and erase his memories of me.”

Clara frowned. “No.”

Chuy frowned. “What. No. You don’t get to say no, change him back.”

“I can’t. I’m not able to erase memories. Not the right kind of witch for that. If I make him human, he’ll probably kill us.”

“No, listen, I can talk to him then. Convince him to leave, he has a soft spot for me, It’ll be fine.”

Clara frowned and waved her hand, but nothing happened. “Sorry, out of juice. He’s stuck.”

Chuy stared at Enzo, the rat in his hands.

“Look, luckily with his age, you have another few months!” She clapped happily. “Plus, well, he was only human. What’s the saying? Don’t worry about breaking them, they’ll die soon anyway? Or is it don’t worry about breaking them, they’re replaceable? You said it yourself, this world is dangerous for him. At least now, you can keep him safe in your pocket. Now, I’m going to go finish planning my wedding.”

Chuy stared at Reyes in his hands, clearly seething. He growled and Soap noticed how many teeth he had.

“Do any of you know any other fucking witches?”

#captain john price #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #soapghost #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #Vampire Au #rodolfo parra

89 notes · View notes

gyusrose · 1 year

Text

➵ hopelessly devoted -> c.y

(first person p.o.v)

⚠︎ fluff - angst

✎ non!idol au, strangers to lovers au

summary : liking the most cold- hearted boy at school is definitely a challenge, specially when you’re willing to do anything to get at least a smile out of him.

yeonjun x fem. reader

wc: 4.0k

“another present for that idiot ?” soobin exclaimed.

“yes , it is for him, and that ‘idiot’ has a name, yeonjun.” you annoyingly rolled my eyes.

it’s no secret that i like the boy, who wouldn’t ? he was probably the most handsome human i’ve ever seen in my life, and the fact that he never talk or expresses himself makes me intrigued even more.

soobin on the other hand, thinks other wise…

“________, as your best friend i can’t let you embarrass yourself like this, he’s obviously uninterested.”

“hush , he just needs a friend and maybe we can turn into lovers who knows .”

soobin just shook his head in response.

“oh look he’s there! wait here.” i say as i saw the man of my dreams sitting in a bench listening to music it seems.

my confidence started to decrease the closer i got to him, he’s capable of making my knees fall weak anytime i see him.

i had brought him a box of homemade pastries , which by the way, took way too long to make.

i stood in front of him with the box of pastries in front of me waiting for him to notice me.

he looked up into my eyes finally and took one earbud out of his ear , kind of a signaling what i was doing here.

breathe in. breathe out.

“erm, i um brought you this…it’s some pastries i made and um i hope you enjoy them? “

maybe i should’ve listened to soobin .

his expressionless face made me even more nervous as he looked between the box and me.

“i don’t like sweets.” he spoke after about a minute of just blankly staring.

he doesn’t like sweets?

of course he doesn’t.

“oh alright, i get it, i’ll get going now.”

literally kill me now.

i guess soobin saw the look on my face and the box in my hands to find out what happened.

“yes you can tell me ‘i told you so’ “

“i’ve told you this very fucking time ______.”

he’s right , this isn’t a new reaction from him, every time i try to gift him something or even start a conversation i’m left with little to no answers. but why?

he’s like that with everyone , except that one firmed he’s always around, taehyun.

in contrast taehyun is very friendly, i’ve had classes with him and i’ve had a few conversations with him, i can’t put together how they’re friends.

“i’d gladly take the pastries.” soobin said before snatching the box from my hands .

“alright class you have the rest of the time remaining to practice the type of problems we went over today.” our calculus teacher said before sitting down on her desk.

“at this point i don’t know what to do. “ i said pouting.

i mentally groaned.

i just don’t get it. i’ve asked for help four times already today, i don’t want to burden her.

i utterly hate math, im no good at it. im more of a literature type of person, i love reading and writing but ask me to solve a damn calculus equation and i give up.

i looked over to where yeonjun is sitting, doing the problems so effortlessly.

he’s always been at the top of class, more like the whole grade, since forever.

an idea popped in my head making me smile at the thought.

as i was ready to go up to him , someone beat me to it.

ugh of course it’s arin.

“hey yeonjun? do you think you can help me with these problems? i’m kinda stuck.”

ha good luck in getting a response buddy…

“sure what section?”

WHAT?

how come he isn’t bothered by me and not her?

if i were to go up to him , i most probably would’ve gotten rejected or simply ignored.

but i mean, i can’t judge him.

i cant compare with arin.

she was much smarter than me, much prettier , someone who’s easy to fall for.

maybe i’m the problem?

for the remainder of class i simply sat in my seat spacing off, overthinking way too much.

what have i done to him? cant he just be nice ? i’ll settle for a small smile.

i barely notice the bell ringing and everyone heading to lunch.

“what’s wrong ? you look depressed as fuck ______.” soobin said snapping me out of my thinking.

i looked around finding the classroom completely empty.

“oh shit, i’m sorry soobin, nothing happened i just felt tired, don’t worry about it.” i assuringly smiled hoping he won’t keep asking questions.

“it was yeonjun right?”

shit he knows me too well.

i just stayed in silence signaling he’s right.

“whatever it is, i assure you to not think too much about it.”

sure.

i glanced at yeonjun’s seat and saw a book.

my eyebrows furrowed as i got up and grabbed it.

i opened it to the first page to see

‘property of choi yeonjun’

nevermind that sadness i felt seconds ago, i’m not giving up.

“for fucks sake _______.” soobin practically facepalmed.

after school i made sure to be one of the first people out to catch up with yeonjun.

i saw him bid his friend goodbye and go on his way.

i jogged to where he was trying to stop him , but boy did he walk fast.

when i thought i was close to him i saw him get on the bus.

kill me now.

i sighed in defeat as i saw the bus drive away with yeonjun in it.

i walked back slowly in disappointment with the dark green book on my hand.

suddenly another idea popped into my head.

i ran back to school hoping i still had a chance.

thankfully i didn’t go too far away.

i looked around frantically when i finally spotted him.

“taehyun! wait up please ! “

he looked up to see who called his name. he sweetly smiled at me and waved.

“hi ______ what’s wrong ?”

“i need a favor from you, yeonjun left his book and i’m trying to give it back, do you by any chance know where he lives?”

i hope don’t sound like a stalker .

taehyun looks at the book i’m holding an chuckles.

“ahh i see, sure i can give you his address, hopefully you’re not a serial killer in disguise.”

i punched his shoulder lightly, laughing in response.

“i assure you i’m not.”

“318”

“319”

“aha! 320”

holy shit…

this boy was stupidly rich.

even though it’s not unknown to me that he was pretty wealthy, i didn’t think it was this much. barbie and the dream house type of vibe.

i took a deep breath and ringed the doorbell.

a couple of seconds passed and i was getting impatient, almost thinking nobody was home.

the door suddenly unlocked revealing the handsome-ass boy.

he looked confused making me realize how awkward this was.

“um hey i’m- “

“seriously ? you’ve came here to bother me all the way to my house?” he suddenly says catching me off guard.

this is the longest sentence he’s said to me.

and god i wish he would’ve just ignored me this time.

“no you got it all wrong i’m-“

“don’t need to explain yourself, have i not been clear enough?”

“yeonjun i-“

“leave me alone for fucks sake, i want to be alone, don’t search for me, i don’t need you bothering 24/7, how did you know where i live ?”

“this is a misunderstanding i swear-“

“you probably followed me around like the stalker you are, go away.” he said before he shut the door on my face.

i normally wouldn’t act like this but tears just started falling from my eyes.

i’ve completely hit the definition of embarrassment. i can’t redeem myself from this.

i’ve made the only guy i’ve ever liked, completely hate me.

and it’s all my fault.

because of my clinginess, my annoyance, i was nothing but a burden to him.

i was halfway almost home when i felt droplets hit the top of my head.

fucking perfect.

just the cherry on top of my day.

the small droplets then turned into a full on storm, i could barely see where i was going.

“hey you! you’re gonna die out there.” i heard someone yell to my left.

i turned to see the owner of the voice just to see a male with an umbrella coming my way.

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before. or maybe i just have bad memory.

“are you okay? this storm is wild, what are you doing here all by yourself?”

i got a better look at him and holy fuck. he was handsome.

“i was just trying to go home, i didn’t expect the rain to be this strong.”

“i know i’m a stranger but come to my house right in front, at least until it gets better.” he offered.

i looked into his eyes, i could tell he had good intentions , well at least he didn’t look like a psychopath or something so i nodded.

we both took off running to his house which was just like ten steps away .

as we made i inside i couldn’t help but notice how pretty it was.

this sure was a rich people area.

“You can wait here, i’ll bring you a towel.” he said

i looked at my reflection on a mirror and i nearly scared myself.

i looked awful. my hair was damp, my mascara was runny, my eyes were swollen, i feel bad that he even has to see me like this.

“here you go, i also brought you some new clothes since yours are damped, hope you don’t mind.” he said giving me all the stuff.

never had someone , other than soobin, cared so much for me.

and i don’t even know this stranger’s name.

“no don’t worry i don’t mind ….?”

“heesung”

“thank you heesung, are you new around here? i haven’t seen you until today.”

“yeah actually i moved a few days ago, my family is from here so.”

i nodded in response.

“well you already made a new friend heesung.”

“why are you suddenly sick today? you were just fine yesterday.” soobin said as he noticed my voice and stuffed nose.

“it just the weather, it’s getting colder, my allergies are acting up.” he nodded buying my excuse.

lord knows what he would’ve done if i told him that i was walking in the rain for half an hour because of yeonjun.

“oh by the way, i heard there’s a new guy in school, supposedly he’s from a rich family and shit.”

new guy?

“it’s no surprise if girls are already swooning over him without even seeing his face.”

“oh shit the bell already rung , see you later _____.” soobin waved as i made my way into my class.

i tried in all circumstances to ignore yeonjun, almost acting like he wasnt there.

god this is going to be hard.

making my way to my seat , from the corner of my eye i saw him, with his head down and earbuds in.

he deserves to be left alone. i should’ve not been so clingy and annoying, gosh no wonder he hates me.

i composed myself and sat on my seat, taking out a book to read.

which reminds me, i still have his book in my bag.

i’ll give it to him, one day.

“good morning class, i’m excited to announce there’s a new student joining us this year.” the teacher said as i saw a very familiar face walk through the door.

heesung.

to tell you i was more than thrilled to see him is the least. i had my little prediction that he was the new kid, everything just connected together.

as he finished introducing himself the teacher told him to find any empty seat in the classroom, and surprise surprise, there was one right next to me.

he didn’t hesitate to come my way and sit on the vacant desk.

“hey ______, remember me ?”

“how could i forget? you pretty much saved my life yesterday. and we’re friends aren’t we?”

“i wanted to surprise you! yesterday when i saw your uniform, i noticed it’s the same as mine.”

heesung and i have been nonstop talking since he got here.

we’ve taken this time to get to know each other better. unsurprisingly, we have a lot in common, he also matches my energy, which is hard to find someone that does.

we both sat in a bench during lunch laughing and and talking with each other. since soobin left home early, it was just the two of us which honestly made me forget about my surroundings until i felt a pair of eyes watching me.

i turned around to find his eyes.

he quickly looked away though.

making me question, am i seeing things?

i must be.

yeonjun p.o.v

my thoughts are eating me alive. i cannot stop thinking about her. i shouldn’t.

i was the one that told her to stay away from me, i was the one that told her to leave me alone, i was the one that didn’t want her to keep bothering. so why am i missing it?

the fact that she also seems happier doesn’t help.

i couldn’t help but stare at the way her and that new kid got along.

she was laughing, smiling, not one inch of sadness could be seen.

they looked like a couple. that only made me more annoyed.

how can she move on from me so fast? wasn’t she head over heels for me ?

shut up yeonjun! i’m acting as if we dated or something.

“what’s with the grumpy face?” taehyun came sitting down next to me.

i sighed.

“just got a bad grade.” i answers shortly.

taehyun looked at me suspiciously, not buying it.

“you sure? oh i don’t know i just saw you looking where _______ is sitting, you looked very bothered.”

shit , was it that noticeable?

“huh? what are you talking about? i’m just doing some homework, you’re seeing things. why would i be looking at her? she’s not even-“

“jeez calm down! i was joking around.” taehyun chuckled.

“haha, very funny.”

- days later -

these past few days have been nothing but miserable.

main reason is ______.

i don’t know what’s got me so stern about her.

i want her to bother me, to talk to me, give me those little gifts i would always reject.

i want her to be with me like she is with heesung.

since she’s all i have in my mind, that caused a decline academically.

i wasn’t doing so well in tests or homework.

she’s ruining me for fucks sake.

“yeonjun? “ i looked up hoping to see ______.

i was disappointed.

“can i help you? “ i said quietly.

arin sat next to me nervously.

“you want to go to the fall dance with me?”

fall dance? completely forgot that was happening.

obviously i was planning to not go. but then the thought of making ______ jealous gives me a motive to do with arin.

i feel bad for using her, but i have to see if ______ still feels something for me.

“sure.”

“does my hair look good?” arin asked me as she turned for me to see.

“yes it looks fine.”

we were on our way to the hall where the dance takes place. for some reason i was nervous, my palms were sweaty as fuck.

i was dreading this dance, i don’t go to these things throughout high school. part of me was hopeful though.

as we entered my eyes were almost instantly drawn to a certain person.

______.

she looked stunning.

her dress, hair, shoes, makeup.

she was breathtaking.

but it all got ruined by the male by her side.

of course they came together.

“yeonjun! i’m talking to you.” that snapped me out of my thoughts.

“pardon?”

“let’s go dance yeonjunie.”

ground just swallow me up.

the night has been boring to say the least.

arin and i danced for a little bit, but then i went back to the table and she went with her friends.

all of this to not have ______ spare me a glance.

bored out of my mind i decided to go walk around outside.

i’m so glad i did.

“______?”

she looked up from her phone and looked at me.

i couldn’t read her expression which made me nervous for some reason.

“oh, hi yeonjun.”

this is it yeonjun, you have her all for yourself without that stupid heesung tagging along.

“how have you been?”

your p.o.v

what’s up with him now?

why’s he acting as if nothing happened? all the emotion s i felt with his words suddenly disappeared from his mind.

to say i was utterly confused was to say the least.

heesung had to leave early because he had an event with his parents, which left me alone since soobin didn’t want to come, as always.

so i decided to get some fresh air, and of course i ran into him.

“i’ve been doing fine really, nice talk, i have to go back.” i said trying to slide myself out of the conversation fast as possible.

but he stopped me.

he stopped me?

“look i wanted to clear the air between us you know? i shouldn’t have been so harsh with you that day, it wasn’t fair in my part.”

now he’s apologizing? out of nowhere?

he hated my guts and now he’s suddenly sorry?

“oh.”

“and after all that he starts apologizing and shit as if i didn’t cry myself to sleep because of him ugh.”

i was currently ranting to soobin every detail of last night, mostly about the yeonjun part.

“no he didn’t, did he think you’d forgive him that easily?”

“i know right? even though part of me wanted to just kiss him and forgive him, i controlled my emotions and just pretty much left him there.”

now why am i starting to feel guilty?

it’s what he deserves ______!

“as you should, you’re nicer than me cause i would’ve snapped at him to be honest.”

“of course you would, but you know, i still like him, a lot.”

“yeah yeah we all know that, but what about heesung? for the few times i’ve met him, he seems like a way nicer and better match for you. in my opinion.”

oh yeah, heesung…

“i like heesung but not like that, i see him like an older brother honestly, sure he’s handsome and all but, yeonjun is just like, on another level.”

“you’re down bad _______.”

of course the day i decide to straighten my hair it fucking rains.

and with my luck, i forgot my umbrella.

fuck my life.

i’m literally using newspaper to cover myself while waiting for the rain to calm down so i can go home since i normally walk.

soon the droplets were stopped by an umbrella.

“need some help?”

obviously it’s him.

clearly h needed one but i wasn’t going to give in.

“no thanks, the sky it’s starting to clear anyways.”

“seriously ______, take it.”

eventually i gave in and kindly took it.

i noticed the handle had his initials on it. cocky much?

how rich do you have to be for that?

“before you go ______, i still want to apologize for my actions, i know it’s not hard to forgive but do now i’m for real, i truly am sorry.”

his eyes. looked beautiful. he seems sincere, i hope i’m right.

as much as i tried to hold in all my words, they just threw themselves out of my mouth.

“do you know how much it hurt? those words coming out of the one boy you’ve ever liked? how stupid i felt? i understand i could’ve acted clingy and annoying but is it that hard to say it nicely?”

yeonjun p.o.v

i know i’m an asshole.

it hit hard the way she said that to me. i was the cause of it. im the reason she felt like shit, when she imply wanted to brighten my day or simply just talk to me.

yet i’m still hoping for forgiveness.

“i’m so sorry i made you feel like that, you had good intentions and-“ i stopped talking when i notice a slight tear fall from her eyes.

i immediately embraced her into a hug with no hesitation.

this wasn’t like me, i wouldn’t just grab someone for a hug, i barely liked hugs, only with my family i’m sure, so me , myself was surprised with my actions, i can just tell ______ was too.

even though i can feel her confusion, i felt her arms wrap around me hugging me tighter.

she was hugging me back?

a wave of emotions hit me.

does she still have feelings for me after everything i’ve done?

surely after some seconds we pulled away.

“i’m sorry, was that uncomfortable for you? i j-“

i cut her off.

“no _____, i found it comforting.”

it came a time where we both just stared into each other, forgetting the rain that was now dropping on our heads.

“let me give you a ride home.”

she hesitated for a moment but gave in to my offer.

we made our way to my car and i opened the passenger door for her to get in.

never did i think this would be happening.

the car ride was filled with silence, not the awkward type of it but more like a comfortable silence.

i even almost saw her eyelids drop.

“is it here?”

“yes, thank you so much yeonjun.”

“no problem, be careful, maybe we can hang out sometime? maybe be friends?”

“i’ll see, oh and by the way.” she said before taking out something from her bag.

a book.

my book.

i’ve been looking for it for weeks. how did she have it?

“you left it a while ago at your desk, i tried dropping it off at your house but that didn’t go so well..”

my heart warmed.

so that’s what she was trying to tell me what she came to my house.

i’m a real douchebag.

my attraction for her just got stronger and stronger that i pulled her into a kiss.

your p.o.v

HES KISSING ME?

shithsitshitshitshit.

how do i act? do i pull away? do i kiss back? do i just run away ? fuck.

i eventually decide to kiss him back and let me tell you.

it was better than what i imagined. can this dude be anymore perfect?

i wrapped my hands around his neck while his were around my cheeks.

this is like a dream come true for me, i still can’t believe this is happening.

as we pulled away we didn’t move away from each other and stayed close.

my heart cannot stop jumping .

“are you sure you just want to be friends choi yeonjun?”

oh soobin is not gonna believe me.

#choi yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #txt fanfic #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #heesung #hueningkai x reader #soobin x reader #txt angst #txt fluff #opposites attract #txt #yeonjun

388 notes · View notes