#I haven’t even finished and I’ve already written a fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eagerbby · 2 years

Text

only you | e.m.

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| You and Eddie were never meant to be just friends.

an| written in a world where Eddie was never accused, never died, and more importantly, finally graduated. not very canon, billy’s still alive and briefly mentioned. this was a quick break from a fix-it fic I’m currently writing and very much inspired by the song touch tank by quinnie. it’s eddies song and i’ll die on this hill.

warnings| oral (female receiving), PnV (protected), Eddie running his mouth, thats a warning in itself, 18+ only

[June 9, 1986]

The pitiless Indiana sun hung high in the cerulean sky, its uv-rays biting at your bare skin. The cool pool water lapping over your legs every time Eddie moved was the only relief at the moment.

“Have you ever been in the ocean?” He asked lazily, his long fingers flicking water across your bare thighs. The two of you lay opposite each other in the barely six foot wide and three foot deep blow up pool set up next to his front porch. Your feet floated next to his shoulders, grazing the freckled pale skin there every time he shifted or turned. Meanwhile, tall and gangly Eddie had his head propped up on the blue polyvinyl rim, his own feet hung over the side next to your head. He had bitched and moaned once the two of you had finally finished setting it up, “I don’t even fit all the way.” He’d complained. “Why’d you buy a damn kiddie pool?”

You had laughed at him, his pale body laying stick straight in the cool water in only a pair of plaid blue boxers. You had begged him to let you buy him a pair of swim shorts but he had refused.

“It’s just you and me, it’s not like you haven’t seen my boxers all over my bedroom floor.”

“Yeah, but what if you go to the public pool? You’ll need them then.”

“Ha. Not likely you’ll ever see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson at the public pool. The parent’s would probably gather pitchforks and torches and hang me at the gallows.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Eds.”

“M’not. And anyway, I don’t like swimming, I’m only doing this for you.”

“My parents used to take my little brother and I to the Outer Banks when we were younger. We’d go every summer, swim in the ocean or walk the dunes to the lighthouse.” You opened your eyes to look at him only to find he’s already watching you speak, his deep brown eyes hidden behind the lens of his aviator sunglasses. His hair is almost dry now except for the ringlets that float atop his shoulders in the water. “You should probably take those sunglasses off before you get too much sun on your face. Gonna get a weird ass tan line from them.”

He does as you tell him, taking them off and tossing them onto the porch. “I’ve never been.” He said. “The ocean scares the fuck outta me. All that never ending water. Do you ever think about how many bodies are in the ocean? Lost to the dark depths of the sea.”

You sat up at his words, a perplexed look on your face as you stared at him. “Well that’s fucking morbid. Jesus Christ, Eddie.”

He only shrugged in his usual unbothered way, his knuckles grazing the skin of your thigh beneath the rippling water.

“You’ve never thought about it before?” He asked.

“Not really, no. I guess I blocked the thought from my mind. I love swimming in the ocean.”

“You love swimming with dead bodies. Got it.”

You splashed him at this, laughing as the small tidal wave blasted him. The shock of the cold water hitting his warm skin caused him to shoot up, water dripping down his face as he wrestled you backwards into the water. You squealed when he grabbed your shoulders, his hand holding the back of your neck as he dunked you. The gurgle of the water echoed your laugh and as he pulled you back up you spit a fountain of water right into his face.

“Who would have ever imagined that you, The Princess of Hawkins high and valediction, was such a freak.”

“I graduated two years ago, Eddie! Now I’m just the queen of folding panties at Starcourt mall, and failing my English lit course.”

You watched Eddie’s expression shift at the word panties, your best friend's eyes now slightly wider, his grip on the back of your neck a little harder. He was so close to you, sitting on his knees in the small pool, completely leaned over your body. You didn’t see him shirtless often and you had never seen him shirtless and so close. If you reached up you could trace the dark ink of his tattoo that sat just beneath his collarbone. Scratch your fingers against the small splattering of hair on his sternum. That strange feeling stirred in your stomach, the same one you’d been getting for a couple months now. You didn’t understand it and what made it worse was that Eddie, your best friend, was the sole cause of it.

You felt it for the first time after Eddie had fallen asleep during your weekly movie night. His head was laying on the pillow in your lap, you hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep until you heard him softly snore. He’d had a bad day at school, Jason Carver and his cronies spray painting ‘Freak’ in bright red letters across the windshield of his van. When you got to his trailer later that day you found him sitting on the hood of the van with a razor blade, slowly scraping the still wet paint from the glass. You had tried helping him but he only waved you off, telling you it was fine. But his eyes were red rimmed and glassy like he’d been crying. You wanted to kill those stupid jocks, which you voiced with indignation. But Eddie had only shook his head. He wasn’t a fighter despite what the whole town thought. He just didn’t have it in him.

“Lets go.” You said softly, your hand holding onto his forearm as you looked up at him.

“What?”

“To the ocean. Let’s go to the ocean, Eddie.” It was only a whisper as it passed your lips, your eyes searching his face. His furrowed eyebrows made him appear confused, but there was something else swimming in the chocolate brown of his iris’.

“What are you talking about, Crazy?” He lazily dragged you to sit up as he shifted from his knees to stretch his long legs out in front of himself. You waited for him to get comfortable before bouncing up onto your own knees, your fingers excitedly grabbing the wet fabric of his boxers on his leg. You don’t notice his cheeks flush as his eyes quickly flashed down to your hands and back up to your eyes.

“You, Eddie Munson, are a high school graduate now. You have a whole summer before you have to start thinking about what's next! And I have some vacation time and a shoebox full of savings from the past two years.” You rambled, your smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “We could take your van, o-or my car, and we could drive to the Outer Banks. Rent a motel and just have fun.”

“Y-you want to waste two years worth of savings to go to the beach?”

“It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie! It’d be… well it’d be like an adventure.”

He was silent, looking away from you, his eyes scanning the quiet trailer park. Your shoulders dropped a little when you realized he didn’t share the same excitement as you. He had an entire summer to do whatever he wanted, why would he want to spend it with you driving to somewhere he’s never been.

He doesn’t even like the ocean, you idiot.

“Forget it. It’s stupid.” He jumped a little as you suddenly stood up, rivets of water rushing down the expanse of your body. You’ve stepped one foot out of the pool before he’s grabbing your wrist softly.

“Hey, where are you going?” He asked gently, his eyes wide like he’d just gotten into trouble.

“Inside to change. I think I got too much sun.” You shook your arm until his hand slipped from your wrist, falling back into the water with a splash. You snatched your towel from the rickety lawn chair and escaped into his trailer, ignoring him calling your name. You grabbed your bookbag from the couch and all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind you with shaking hands.

You felt so fucking stupid. You already spent eighty percent of your time with him, practically attached at the hip as his freshman friend Dustin had pointed out, how could you think he’d want to spend even more time with you. Especially somewhere far from home. For fucks sake, he hadn’t even looked at you as you went on and on about it. He was too nice to tell you it was a stupid idea. The way he stared off, probably thinking of how to let you down gently, was all the answer you needed.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t that good of an idea. You weren’t known for your extraordinary planning skills and both of your vehicles were pieces of shit. In fact the likelihood of making it across the Indiana border just to break down in some podunk town was terribly high. The thought of spending the rest of your money getting the car fixed just to turn around and go right back home, broke and without ever seeing the damn beach, made you a little nauseous. Because that would be your luck.

A knock at the bathroom door made you jump. "Hey, you okay in there?" Eddie, voice peppered with concern. You tossed your bathing suit in the sink and turned the shower on.

"I gotta wash my hair, be out in a minute." You yelled back at the door before stepping into the shower stall, the hot water easing the tension from your muscles.

You didn't want him to think you were upset so you hurried through your shower, using his old spice to wash your body and his shampoo and conditioner that smelled of citrus in your hair. It was a distinct smell, one that was all him, and it made your stomach whirl once again. Your crush on him was starting to become a nuisance.

Once you were clean and dried off, dressed in his Iron Maiden shirt you stole from his drawer a couple weeks ago and a pair of black jean shorts that were frayed at the ends, you slowly cracked the door open, peering out towards the living room slash kitchen in search for a puff of raven curls.

He wasn’t there, so instead you followed the sound of Ozzy Osborne down the hall and into Eddie’s messy bedroom.

He was in his bed, back propped up against the headboard and rolling a joint with idle fingers. He was still shirtless but with a pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the band of his now white boxers resting against his dark happy trail. A wildfire blazed in your stomach at the sight and you couldn’t help but clamp your thighs together.

Does he not realize how unbearably hot he is?

He didn’t, actually, which was why seeing him like this all laid out with his chest bare and that smattering of hair that led down his abdomen and under his pants made your mouth so dry your tongue felt like it weighed 110 pounds and your hands so clammy you had to wipe them against your shorts. You cleared your throat in an attempt to subdue your racing thoughts and took a seat on the edge of his bed, body turned towards him watching him roll with ease.

He looked up with a smile when he felt your weight dip into the mattress. “Are you feeling any bette-'' He paused, glaring at the long haired zombie on your shirt. His shirt. “Is that my fucking shirt?”

You glanced down and back up, imitating the causal shrug he always gave you.

“Maybe.” You deadpanned. Eddie spluttered.

“Maybe? Who else do you know listens to Iron fucking Maiden?”

“I know people.”

“You know people?”

“A couple.”

Eddie’s eyes suddenly narrowed, a quiet disapproval in those deep brown eyes of his.

“Billy Hargrove?” He asked with a grating timbre in his voice you’d never heard before. He’d tossed the joint down into the ashtray and got off the bed, standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“B- What?” You’re so exasperated you can’t even form a sentence. “Billy Hargrove? What?”

“It’s him right? I know you used to hangout with him. He’s totally not an Iron Maiden fan, by the way. He definitely listens to Foreigner and cries in his piece of shit Camaro.”

“Hey! Don’t talk bad about Foreigner, I love them.” You stood up from the bed with your hands on your hips. “He’s a Guns N’ Roses guy anyways; completely idolizes Axel Rose.”

“Oh. Okay. So Billy Hargrove likes Guns N’ Roses and groupies for Axel Rose. Amazing.”

“I don’t hang out with Billy Hargrove, Eddie. Not like that, anyways.”

His nostrils flared and he nodded. “But you do hang out.”

“Maybe once or twice, I guess?” Your voice forms a question. You didn’t consider having a couple of the same friends and being at parties the other is at as ‘hanging out’. “What- What is this, Eddie? Why are you freaking out over Billy?”

“I’m not.” He said, blinking a couple times like he was trying to snap out of something. He leaned over your shoulder and grabbed the joint out the ashtray, lit it, and walked over to his cluttered table to search through a milk crate full of records. “Just figured the people you were talking about was him, s’all.”

“Eddie,” You said, coming up beside him to grab his wrist. He froze, his hands stopping their furious flipping of records, but his gaze stayed low. “I was fucking around, Eddie.”

“Fucking around?’

“Yes, Eddie. I was just joking.”

He turned to you at your words, staring dead into your eyes. The intensity of his stare made your heart stutter. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

“Jealous? Wh- Eddie what the fuck are you talking about.”

There was a pregnant pause. Just you and Eddie staring into each other's eyes. Why would you want to make him jealous? You didn’t even know that was an option. You and Eddie were friends. Best friends. Friends don’t get jealous of their friends hanging out with other people. And Billy Hargrove? You had no idea where he pulled that one from. Not once had you ever even mentioned his name around Eddie. There was nothing worth mentioning. You thought Billy was stuck up and an absolute douchebag. Was he nice to look at? Sure. But you were nearly positive his heart was black with hatred and you believed being pretty meant nothing if your personality was shit.

“Uh, Eddie? Are you jealous?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes, instead he was flickering his gaze to anywhere but your face. “Eddie?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?” He trailed his question off, biting at the skin on his lips as he waited for a response.

“I could never hate you, Eddie. You’re my best friend.”

He rolled his eyes. He rolled his fucking eyes. “Your best friend, right.” He said through a cloud of smoke. You snatched the joint sitting pretty between his fingers and dropped it in his other ashtray, the glass one shaped like a skull.

“Why are you saying it like that? You are my best friend.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be.” He said defiantly and your throat felt like it was going to close and your eyes burned from the prickle of your unshed tears welling in your eyes. He didn't want to be your best friend. Those words made you want to crawl into your body, to somehow vanish into thin air. Not too long ago you two were laughing together in the pool, discussing Steve Harrington's newest girl drama which was all supplied to you by Dustin Henderson. The night before you two made shitty Jiffy Pop while blazed out of your minds and sang karaoke so loud his neighbors came banging on the door, furious.

But now he didn’t want to be friends.

“Is this because I asked you to go on a roadtrip with me?” Your voice wavered and your chin started to tremble. “I know it was a bad idea.”

He strangely looked befuddled. “W-what? No. No, it’s not tha-”

“Well then what did I do?” You whined, tossing your hands about, unsure of what to do or what to say. What to think.

“You didn’t do-” He cut himself off, frustrated with his inability to explain himself. He looked at you, saw the tremble in your chin and shook his head. “You know what, fuck it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he was surging forward, grasping your face in his hands, and pulling you towards him. His lips met yours with so much force you gasped, hands clutching his hips for purchase. You couldn’t form a single thought as you stood there, eyes squeezed shut, your chest so tight you couldn’t breathe. But then his hand smoothed over your cheek and grasped the back of your neck, his fingernails scraping over the sensitive skin there, and you finally kissed him back. Eddie moaned. The sound so loud it vibrated through your mouth and straight to the core of your being.

You kissed him with every ounce of power you had. Kissed him like you had daydreamed about so many times before as you watched him roll, or play guitar, or sing along to the radio as he drummed against the steering wheel. You kissed him for everytime he smiled and you felt your heart skip a beat. For every time he hugged you just because you looked like you needed one. For every smile he’d ever graced you with. You kissed him like you’d never kissed anyone before in your life, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt perfect.

Eddie pulled away first, gasping for air in the crook of your neck, his body practically folded into you. “Fuck,” he drew out the word long enough to make you giggle, drunk off his lips.

“Eddie.” You soothed, combing your fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you wanna be my friend?”

He raised to his full height at your question. “Best friends can’t kiss like that.” He’s so out of breath, his words merely a whisper as he continued. “And every goddamn time I look at you all I wanna do is kiss your pretty fucking mouth.”

He left you speechless, looking up into his big brown eyes that you loved so much. He lets you take a second, think on it, all the while stroking his thumb across your cheek.

“How long?” Is all you can ask.

“Shit, since fucking middle school, baby.” He blushed as he said it, the pretty pink darkening to a cherry red as he watched your eyes widen in surprise.

“Middle school?” You whispered.

“I always have. But in middle school you showed up to the snowball in that cute purple dress with your hair all big and your makeup maybe a little too grown for a 12 year old and all I could think about was walking over and asking you to dance. Shit, I wanted to kiss your cheek so fucking bad.” You laughed at the way he scrunched his nose at the last part. You remembered middle school Eddie, his buzzed head and those horrible army green bell bottoms that he’d ripped up to look cool. You liked that Eddie as much as you liked this one, even back then.

“Why didn’t you?” You asked as you pushed up against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. In this position he had to look down his nose at you, his dark lashes fluttering across his cheeks.

“You were you and I was the freak.”

“I never thought that about you, Eddie.”

He sighed, kissing your forehead. “I didn’t know that then, baby.”

“Should have asked.” You teased, planting a kiss on his chest when he tried to act offended.

You two stood like that for a while, just wrapped up in each other, testing the waters of this new dynamic. One where you both knew where you stood with each other.

“I’m sorry I upset you earlier, you uh- you kinda surprised me.” He spoke into the crown of your head.

“It was a stupid idea, anyway.”

“No it’s not. I wanna go. I just don’t want to spend all your money doing it. Give me a couple months to save up and we can go.”

“I don’t care about the money, Eds.” You said as you took your head off his chest and gazed up at him.

“I know. Just give me a couple months, okay.”

“Okay, Eddie.”

Silence fell over the two of you. Eddie started swaying to the music at some point, humming along to a Black Sabbath song that was definitely not slow dance material. You kissed the tattoo on his chest as you swayed, looking up at him with your best version of puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You asked softly. He hummed against you, kissing your forehead as he waited for you to finish your question. “Can you kiss me again?”

“Did you use my shampoo?”

Eddie’s voice raised up from the crease of your neck, a hint of amusement in his words. He had you laid out on his bed, slowly working kisses across your body. What had started as a soft little makeout session bloomed into something more when you had drug your nails up his spine the moment he found that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Mhm.” You were too distracted to answer, focusing on the feel of his tongue laving against your neck and the way his hips shuddered against your clothed pussy every time you dug your nails into his skin.

“I like when you smell like me.” He mused. “Makes me feel like you’re mine.”

“M’yours, Eddie.” You whispered, guiding his face up to look at him. His lips were puffy and tinted red from sucking hickeys against your throat and his eyes were wide, searching your face for honesty.

“Promise?” He said after a quiet couple seconds and you nodded, leaning your head up to kiss the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth.

“Promise.”

Eddie’s smile lit up his entire face, all dimpled and pink cheeked. It made your heart swell.

“Can I taste you?”

He asked in such a polite way, it caught you off guard. You couldn’t remember ever having a guy ask to eat you out. It was always something you hinted at and they brushed aside. One guy had even told you that eating a girl out made him soft and in the same breath forced your head down on his dick. But here was Eddie, looking at you so expectantly and yet so patiently.

“Yeah.”

Eddie didn’t waste a second getting to his knees on the mattress, fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts as he mumbled to himself. “Oh shit, okay. Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long, you don’t even understand. Pretty baby. So fucking pretty.”

You helped him shimmy the black fabric from your legs, Eddie tossing them over his shoulder with such force they knocked his acoustic guitar, that sat across from the bed, off its stand. He paid no attention to the instruments sharp bellow as it hit the carpet, instead he was transfixed on your purple lace panties.

“Christ.” He breathed, his index and middle finger tracing up the wet spot that had been steadily growing from the moment he kissed you. “You’re so wet.”

“Because of you.” You keened, Eddie suddenly adding more force in his stroking right against your clit. He flashed his eyes up to yours.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Shit, I never thought I’d hear you say that outside of my dreams.” He seems to lose himself in his heavy caressing while you grip his sheets so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Eddie, please.” You couldn’t stop the whine that escaped your lips, dipping your fingers under the band of your panties and impatiently trying to take them off.

Eddie chuckled to himself as he watched you struggle. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you baby. Calm down.” He gave your panties the same treatment, peeling them down your thighs and tossing them over his shoulder. He bit his lip as he lowered his stomach to the bed, face to face with your weeping core. “So eager to be on my tongue, huh. Who woulda thought you’d be sobbing at the thought of me, The Freak, licking your sweet little pussy.”

“Eddie,” You were so touch starved, so desperate to feel his mouth on you, that you thought you might actually cry if he didn’t do something. “Shut the fuck up, please. Please. Just… Oh, Eddie, please.”

“Mm, okay.”

The second his warm tongue hit you, you cried out. Hands fumbling for purchase and finding it in his dark brown hair. You gripped the strands at the roots hard enough to hurt but Eddie only moaned and tightened his grip on your thighs, pulling them open even further to sink his tongue as far into your pussy as he could. His nose brushed against your swollen clit with each delve of his tongue, the muscle exploring every inch of your sensitive pussy. You trained your eyes on his nicotine stained ceiling, trying so hard to push back the fire rising in your stomach. You’d never felt anything like it before.

“That feels so fucking good, Eddie.” You loosened your grip on him to pet at his hair, unsure if it was to praise him or soothe yourself. Peeling your eyes from the ceiling you cast your hazy stare down only to find his big brown eyes watching you from between your thighs, mouth latched around your sensitive clit as he alternated from gentle sucks to fast flicks of his tongue. Your thighs burned as you rocked your hips against his face, fucking into his mouth for more friction, hands shaking against his cheeks. He looked so unbelievably pretty staring up at you with so much fondness and lust in his eyes, his mouth and tongue completely ravishing you like no man ever had before.. So you tell him…

“You’re so pretty like this, Eddie. You- oh fuuck- you’re always so pretty b-but-” You let out a wanton cry as Eddie slipped two fingers into your achy cunt. He finds that spot inside you that whitens your eyesight almost immediately, like he knew exactly where it was. Between his fingers and his devilish tongue you were seeing stars, tears slipping freely at how extreme the sensation was. “Oh god, Eddie. Eddie, I’m- I’m gonna-” You couldn’t even fucking speak anymore.

Eddie acknowledged you with a shuddering groan, quickening his movements to drive you over the precipice. His eyes never once leave your face.

You came with a small scream, hips arched off the bed, your fingernails leaving crescent moons into the skin of his wrist. The feeling was all consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. You let out a sob as he eased you through it, rubbing your thighs comfortingly as they shook with fervor around his head. You could hear yourself speaking but it was muffled by the roaring in your ears; it sounded like you were speaking in tongues. Eddie heard every word.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Don’t stop, baby. Never fucking stop. So good, s-so fucking good. You’re so fucking good, Eddie. Oh my god, I love you.”

Eddie kissed your thighs as your orgasm faded, your burning lungs gasping for air. When you could finally breathe again, he left one last lingering kiss before crawling up your body. You held his face with shaking hands when he reached you, the biggest shit eating grin on his cum soaked face.

“You love me, huh?” He pondered with a fleeting kiss to your lips. “Or do you just love the way I eat your pussy?”

“Both you fucking deviant. Both.” Each inhale rattled in your chest and every exhale burned the lining of your throat. Eddie chuckled as he kissed you again, pressing his hard cock against your still sensitive core.

“Who knew you were a fucking screamer, baby.”

“I could tell you that was all you but then you’d fucking gloat about it for the rest of eternity.”

“Still might.” He hummed, ghosting kisses over your eyes and nose and lips. “You look so fucking hot when you cum. Never seen anything like it. Coulda cum right then and there but I wanna be inside you.”

You reached a hand between your bodies, running a heavy finger over the outline of his cock in his sweats. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, still a little breathless.

Eddie nodded excitedly before bounding up from the bed and over to his dresser. He rifled through it aggressively. Cursing here and there as he tossed socks and a random cassette tape onto the floor in his frenzied search. When he finally finds what he was looking for he exclaimed to himself, “Fucking finally.”.

He leaves the mess he made, struggling to pull his sweats and boxers off as he makes his way back over to you, sprawled out and butt naked in his bed. Once he finally gets there, after narrowly avoiding tripping over his own boots on the floor, he crawls on top of you with the aluminum wrapper between his teeth. You watched with bated breath as he ripped it open, rolling it down the dark pink head of his cock. Once he’s done he positioned himself in the apex of your thighs, fisting his cock and smoothing the latex covered head through your slick covered folds.

“I, uh, I’m probably not gonna last that long.” He said, his eyes downcast, watching the way your hips rutted into him with every swipe of his cock.

“It’s okay, Eds. Just fuck me.” You grabbed his chin, forcing his face up. When your eyes met you smiled at him sweetly and added, “Please.”

Eddie wasted no time pressing into you, his thick cock stretching you wide as he bottomed out inside you. His cheeks were flamed pink, a bead of sweat bleeding from his hairline down the curve of his nose. He pulled out gently and plunged back in, the tip of his tongue poking through his teeth as he concentrated on his slow deliberate thrusts. You dug your heels into the backs of his thighs, hoping he'd get the hint to go faster. Harder. The slow drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you was agonizing. But he only ignored your pressing and not so subtle whines, folding himself over top of you with one arm wrapped around your back and a callused hand holding your cheek. He was being so gentle. It wasn’t something you were used to. Every other guy you’d been with just used you to get off as fast as they could. But Eddie was taking his time, having found a pace that kept you needing more. You found yourself giggling at a particularly languid thrust and Eddie’s round eyes, with his pupils completely blown black, shot up to yours.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, stilling himself inside of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” You giggled again and his eyes narrowed. “I just thought, who would have imagined you to be such a gentle lover. You know, with your bad boy–heavy metal image and all.”

“Don’t forget local drug dealer and devil worshiper.” His smile cracked wide as you giggled again. That giggle, however, turned into a sharp cry with a snap of his hips. “I can be gentle. When I want to be.”

You could only nod at this, your breath lodged in your throat at another hard snap of his hips. Your comment had urged him to go faster. To show you that, yes, he could be gentle. But he could also fuck you senseless.

“Imagine what they’d think of you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, forehead pressed hard to the side of your head, his hips building into a maddening pace. He had thrown your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper, to hit that spot inside your core that brought tears to your eyes. “You were always such a good girl. Hawkins number one girl. Do you even remember what they said when they found out we were friends?”

You shook your head, unable to speak with how hard and deliberate his thrusts were.

“They said I was corrupting you.” He released a breathy, dark laugh. His hand slotting through the strands of your hair to grip the roots. “But they didn’t know that you sought me out, hm. Followed me to the woods just so we could be alone. Made me laugh. Made me feel special.”

You remembered that day. Remembered watching him walk through the tree line all alone, that black metal lunch pail gripped tightly in his hand. You knew what he was doing, skipping class to go smoke up. You’d seen him do it before. But that day you followed after him, nervously gripping the ruched fabric of your cheer skirt as you went. You couldn’t help yourself, You wanted to know him so badly.

“Everyday after that, you found me.” His thrusts were starting to get sloppy and you could tell in the way he held you, in the way his words doubled as moans, that he was getting close. “I tried so hard to keep you from getting too close. People are shunned for being close to me. But you wouldn’t fucking quit. Always so fucking stubborn. It’s like you couldn’t stay away from me.”

“I couldn’t.” You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hair tickled your cheeks, his breath fanning over your lips as he held himself over you now. His brows furrowed in concentration as his cock throbbed inside of you. You clenched at the sight of him, looking so pretty and so fucked, and all yours. Because he was. He was it for you.

“Ah, shit.” He whimpered. He wouldn’t last much longer, but Eddie being who Eddie was, you knew he was gonna talk the whole way through it. “You fucking- You broke down every fucking wall I’d ever built. Smashed right fucking through them and straight into my fucking heart. I-I wanted to be good for you. Good enough that you’d want me like I wanted you. You corrupted me.”

“E-Eddie, I think I’m gonna c-cum.” That burning heat had returned but it was different this time. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. It thrummed every nerve like the string of a guitar, vibrating you to the bone.

“Good.” He said harshly, the word sounding almost mean falling from his red swollen lips, but the fingers stroking your face were still gentle. “I want you to scream for me again. I want everyone in this shitty trailer park, in this shitty fucking town, to know that I’m the one making you feel like this. Crying for my cock, desperate for me.”

You couldn’t handle it, couldn’t see through the tears falling, couldn’t feel anything but him and the white hot pleasure he was gifting to you. You were right there, so fucking close.

“I want them to know that you are mine.” Each word was punctuated with a hard, albeit sloppy, thrust and you came.

You came with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. You felt yourself clench down on him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against you, succumbing to his own orgasm from your vise lock grip on his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he rocked his hips and moaned through it, your name and curses sounding like the sweetest song you’d ever heard.

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned before his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his thighs trembling against your own, mirroring the intensity of the feeling you both shared as you came.

The both of you laid there, shrouded in the warmth of each other's embrace, until finally he rolled away. Wincing as he pulled out and discarded the condom. You could only lay there and watch him rise from the bed on shaky legs to grab the half smoked joint from earlier. He placed it between his lips and lit it, standing there in all his naked glory, puffing on it till he could get a nice long hit. The slight skunky smell filled the room and you closed your eyes, relishing in it. But then, you were hit in the chest by something light and lacey.

“For your modesty.” Eddie smirked as you held your purple panties up in the light.

“Thanks.” You croaked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore.

Eddie crawled over you, flopping his sweaty body down next to yours. He handed you the joint, which you took gratefully, taking your own long drag and passing it back. The both of you laid in a comfortable silence, legs draped over each other and his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh. But then something occurred to you and you turned your head to look at him.

“I didn’t corrupt you.” You said to him and he rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh.

“Yes, you did.”

“No I did not, asshole.” You guffawed, slapping your hand playfully on his bare chest.

“I wear my seatbelt and listen to fucking Journey because of you. That’s corruption.” He teased with a cute little smirk, grabbing your thigh and squeezing the soft flesh there.

“That’s just safety and taste, baby. If you want me to corrupt you there are… different things I have in mind.” You watched his eyes widen and he laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He said as he leaned in, his lips tasted of you and the weed he had smoked and you smiled behind the kiss, chest full and body sore.

“Hey,” He started as he rested his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you like a little puppy. “You wanna go watch a movie? I can make some Jiffy Pop and we can cuddle on the couch?”

“Who’s picking the movie?” You asked, fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

“I had Steve score me a copy of Poltergeist 2. Picked it up from Family Video while you were at the store earlier.”

You sat up a little, an incredulous look etched into your features while he gave you those damn puppy eyes.

“Eddie, you literally told me two weeks ago that you'd rather be decapitated than watch that movie."

Eddie only shrugged, that casual slouch of his shoulder that you had become so accustomed to, and offered you a pretty smile.

“I would. But you wanted to see it. I'll suck it up, but only for you."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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amyispxnk · 2 months

Text

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 1: Special.

Series Masterlist

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - You and Joel finally sit down together after a year of stolen glances.

A/N: OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE WRITTEN A FIC I MISSED IT SM. Let’s all collectively pray that I actually finish this series, btw. It kind of just came to me earlier today and I barely have anything planned but.. you know me by now.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol, light language, (kind of) fluff, nothing much really in this chapter

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“Come on man. We’ve been here for almost two years and you still haven’t made any friends. I see how you look at her- just say something! It is actual torture having to watch you dance around people like this.” Ellie groans dramatically, trying to kick some sense into the man who sits across from her. Joel just grunts, continuing to eat his stew as she looks blankly at him. “She’s nice enough.” She adds after a moment, trying to get him to say something.

After more silence, she speaks again with an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I’ll just go talk to her then, tell her that my old man has a big, fat crush on her. Maybe then you two can-” her smirk falters when Joel interrupts her.

“Don’t you dare go doin’ that,” he grumbles “Y’ gon’ make me look stupid-”

“So you talk to her then! Stop moping around all the time.” Ellie concludes, before standing up and saying goodbye, going to clear her tray and giving him a look before leaving the mess hall.

Joel watches her go before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. First, Tommy was on his ass about making some friends - “You’re scarin’ people, y’know. Givin’ everyone death stares when you walk around, being so.. withdrawn all the time. It’d do ya some good,” he’d told Joel one evening at the Tipsy Bison - and now Ellie was too. And, knowing Ellie, that kid wouldn’t be as patient, probably already concocting some sort of plan to force you and Joel together.

As he leans his head back and mulls over his options, he looks out the window. Of course you’re out there, playing with the kids of Jackson. You’re one of the most popular people in Jackson, always being friendly and knowing just about everyone.

..Except him, of course. You’ve had some small chats with him, but you never really see him. He sees you though, having been.. observing you for the past year, keeping his distance - being respectful, in his eyes, being a wuss, in Ellie’s - and he knows enough about you to know that he probably has no chance with you.

You’re funny, sweet, fucking stunning, and he’s seen multiple guys try to approach you at the bar. Younger, more attractive guys. Mainly, you help teach kids things like art and music at the Jackson school, and you also do patrols a few times a week. On some nights you also sing at the Tipsy Bison when there are events and dances. The band will play, often with you as the lead singer. He always makes sure he’s there when you are.

The first time he saw you was on one of his very first nights in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy had dragged him along, Ellie going too, with promise of a fun night.

He came mainly to keep an eye on Ellie and to get some alcohol in his system, not expecting anything ‘fun’ to happen. Boy, was he wrong.

It had been around half an hour of him nursing his whiskey in the corner of the room when you came onto stage, million-dollar smile on your face as you spoke into the microphone.

“Good evening, Jackson!” You began, already getting a loud cheer from the crowd of people there that night. “It’s great to be singin’ for you again, you know I missed ya! Now, tonight, we got a few songs lined up, but this first one is a special request from Mister Tommy Miller over there!” You had said, pointing over to Tommy who was sitting with Joel, the younger brother grinning widely at you.

The band started and you began to sing one of Joel’s favourite songs from before the outbreak - somehow, it sounded even better in your voice. Joel glared at Tommy when he realised what he had done, and Tommy just shrugged before looking back at you. He couldn’t stay mad at him though, because by the end of it he was entranced by the sweet melody of your voice and how gorgeous you looked singing your heart out under the lights.

You were beaming at the audience after finishing as they showered you with applause, though it took Joel a second to actually start clapping and stop staring at you.

He tried denying it, but, as cheesy as it sounds, it was love at first sight for him.

It scared him, definitely. It had barely been a year since he lost Tess, and although he wouldn’t go as far as saying they were in love, it was the closest thing he’d had to it in decades. To think he even liked you from just hearing you sing one song.. that fucking terrified him.

Which is why he kept his distance for so long. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he realised he actually liked you. He hadn’t had any sort of connection other than Ellie and Tommy in so long, and they were his family. You, though.. you were so different.

He sighed deeply before opening his eyes again, finishing his meal as he watched you smile and laugh in the snow through the window.

A week later, Tommy manages to convince Joel to come to the Tipsy Bison again, promising ‘no funny business’ to go on. Joel isn’t sure he’d really mind.

Time goes by quietly, a simple Monday afternoon not having much going on for them, but then you turn up. He sees you as soon as you walk through the doors, an unfamiliar tiredness in your eyes. It looks like you’ve been on a long patrol.

You look around before noticing Tommy and Joel, walking over with a small smile.

Joel stares daggers at Tommy. “You said no funny business,” he grits, a strange panic flooding his system. Did he brush his hair this morning? Do his clothes look tidy? Did he have anything in his teeth?

“Ain’t no funny business here, brother.” Tommy grins at him, not giving him a chance to reply as you get to their table.

“Hi Tommy!” You smile, hugging him before turning to Joel. “And Joel! It’s so great to see you!”

Joel blinks at you. Fuck, you’re talking to him. He needs to say something back.

“Yeah, you too.” He mumbles, clearing his throat awkwardly.

If you pick up on his discomfort, you don’t mention it, looking around before continuing.

“Are y’all stayin’?” You ask, now leaning forward a little with your palms on the table.

“As far as I’m concerned.” Tommy replies, to which you nod. “Y’ wouldn’t mind if I sit with ya, then?” You ask.

“Not at all, darlin’.” He says, and you slide into the booth with them, starting up a conversation about what you did today, mentioning that draining patrol you just got back from.

“I’m tellin’ ya - morning patrols are like hell on earth, Tommy. ‘S not fair to be makin’ us go out at 6 am.” You groan, to which he smiles. “Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix.” Tommy replies, which makes you perk up.

“You have coffee? Since when?” You gasp, wide-eyed at him.

“New trade opened, and since Joel here is such an addict, we got our hands on some.” He gestures to Joel, and you look over at him, a smile creeping onto your face.

“I see.. being Tommy’s brother has its perks then? Got you hoarding all the coffee for yourself?” You tease, to which Joel chuckles quietly at, sitting up a little taller.

“Not hoardin’. Nobody else has asked for any.” He tells you, looking into your eyes and trying not to get lost in them for too long.

“And if I wanted some?” You say, tilting your head sideways slightly as it rests on your palm.

“Y’ always welcome to come get some, sweetheart.” He isn’t sure what possessed him to use the pet name with you, but he’s very thankful for it as a soft crimson paints your cheeks and you bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. “Well, thank you.” You reply, before a man comes over to get you your drink. “Whiskey, neat please.” You tell him and he goes off to get it. Joel is pleasantly surprised by your choice. He never really thought about what you might order from the bar, but the fact that you shared the same drink of choice made you even more attractive in his eyes.

2 hours later, Tommy had gone off to handle an issue with the council and you and Joel had been talking and drinking and laughing. It’s around 3 now and he barely realises in time for his afternoon patrol, finishing off his whiskey before telling you, noticing the slight sadness that appears on your face at him having to go.

“Oh! Alright then. I’ll see you around. Have a good patrol, Joel.” You smile at him, and he offers you a small smile back.

“See ya ‘round.” He says before leaving and going back to the stables.

Later that evening, Ellie somehow figures out what went down earlier at the bar (Joel’s already planning on giving Tommy a talking to tomorrow) and makes fun of him endlessly for it, saying that he was apparently so shy when he was talking with you.

“I’d have never thought that someone could make the big, bad Joel all nervous and flustered, but she just continues to prove me wrong. She’s definitely special, huh.” Ellie grins, before bidding Joel goodnight and leaving him with his thoughts.

He hated to admit it, but Ellie was right in saying that. You were special.

Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞

Next Chapter

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notsoattractivearenti · 11 months

Text

1+1 = 4 (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader)

WC: 3.0K

Warnings: mention of c-section, post-surgery recovery

A/N: i haven’t written anything since last month and i’ve missed writing so here it is... dad!Mason for me and y'all my loves 🥰🫶🏻 apologies if this isn’t so good lol tbh i wrote this for my own comfort cuz it's been an extremely rough few weeks so i kinda needed this and i’m a huge sucker for my faves as attentive partner and dad fics! not to mention this is officially the longest fic I've written + posted here! hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

You just woke up from a short nap after your C-section. Your baby was not supposed to be born for another month, but when your doctor saw the umbilical cord was wrapped around their neck during ultrasound, they told you and Mason that an emergency C-section had to be done the next day before your baby moved to the birth position. You recalled the day it happened.

—

You were really scared and nervous even though you have given birth before – but your first pregnancy and labor went smoothly so you didn’t exactly anticipate this. Plus, you had never gone through any major surgery your whole life – you just were not ready at all. You wanted another vaginal delivery but since the circumstances changed, you didn’t have a choice and all you cared about was your little one coming into the world safe and sound.

Mason was scared too, but he tried to conceal it from you. He just knew he had to be by your side all the time, as you were about to go through another life-changing moment but not as you planned. He was worried about the baby but even more about you – he felt so helpless because he basically couldn’t do anything but be there for you. If he could, he would make himself be the one who bears the pain instead of you.

On the way home after the checkup, you sat in the passenger seat and just silently stared at the road with your hand resting on top of your belly – subconsciously rubbing it sometimes – while thinking about the sudden news. Mason noticed how quiet you were, and as he drove he grabbed your hand to hold it tight.

“My dear, everything will be okay,” he said softly, “little peanut will be just fine. So will you.”

You sighed. “Maybe you’re right, but Mase...” Your voice was shaky, “I’m terrified. I really am...”

He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at you, then kissed your hand and rubbed it with his thumbs repeatedly.

“I know, Y/N. But you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and you’re going to get through this like the badass you are.” He assured you.

“And I will be with you the entire time and take care of you. I promise.” He added.

You smiled a little, still nervous but way less than before. You knew he was also worried yet he still gave you the comfort you needed. That is one of the things about Mason that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“Also, picture how excited Gem will be when she finds out she’s going to meet her baby sibling soon!”

Before Mason even finished his sentence, the possible scenario was already playing in your head. You looked back to the time you and Mason broke the news to Gemma, your 4 year-old daughter – she screamed then cried out of happiness. She has been so excited to have a little sister or brother since and kept asking when will the baby be born. You could clearly imagine how she would react this time.

“Oh God,” you put your hand on your forehead and jokingly groaned, “she’s going to scream her ass off again isn’t she?”

He shook his head playfully and laughed. “Well that’s my daughter alright!”

—

During the surgery, Mason was sitting next to you the whole time, not wanting to let go of your hand. You were fully conscious since you had regional anesthesia, and to distract yourself from your anxious thoughts you and Mason chatted about the most random things – and it helped calming you down.

You both decided not to find out about your baby’s sex just like when you were pregnant with Gemma. Of course you two were curious, but you wanted to surprise yourselves. A boy or a girl, it doesn't really matter because you will love the baby regardless of the sex.

Suddenly, you both heard the sound of your baby’s cry. The doctor lifted them up so you two could see and excitedly announced, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

You and Mason had your mouths wide open and looked at each other immediately once you knew you had another daughter. She came to join your little family sooner than expected, but she was healthy and all your worry was gone in an instant. Mason kissed your forehead and your lips, then whispered to your ears, “Thank you baby, I’m so proud of you.”

The nurse then brought the baby to you so you could see her up close. She put her next to your face, and you could feel tears of happiness streaming down your face – the presence of your newborn girl warmed your heart.

“Hi baby girl,” you tearfully greeted your daughter, “welcome to the world! Mommy loves you so much.”

Mason watched that moment and he was left speechless. He couldn’t stop smiling and crying as he couldn’t find the words to describe the overwhelming joy and immense love he felt at the moment. He was still processing the fact that he had another girl to love for the rest of his life. As he wiped his tears, he quietly whimpered in awe, “she’s so precious… My little peanut.”

—

As you woke up from your nap post surgery, you could feel the anesthesia started to wear off. You moaned and pressed your lips together over the pain you felt on the incision area. You couldn’t really get up because when you tried to move even a little bit, it would hurt so bad. You looked around the hospital room you were in and you saw Mason sitting on the sofa near the window while holding your newborn daughter.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her even for a second, you could tell he was so in love. This reminded you of the day when Gemma was just born – once he held her in his arms, his eyes were locked on her.

You couldn’t stop staring at him as you found this moment so heartwarming and adorable. He then took a quick look at you and when he saw you were awake, a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Oh look, Mommy’s awake,” he said as he got off the sofa to come over to you, “how are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Uh… pain...” You muttered. “But don’t worry, I’m okay.”

“Oh no… I’m sorry, Y/N.” He knitted his eyebrows, the tone of his voice showed how worried he really was. “Tell me what I can do to help ease it. I’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

You smiled as his hand was stroking your arm.

“Thank you love,” you said to Mason, “but let’s just wait for the nurse. With you two here with me right now I can handle this pain.”

“By the way… Can you stop hogging my baby and hand her over to her mom?” You jokingly asked him.

“Oops, sorry!” He laughed while gently putting her on your side.

—

Few hours later, the nurse suggested you get out of bed and try walking around for a bit. Even though you were still experiencing discomfort, you gladly took her suggestion as you didn’t like laying in the bed for too long. Mason, who wasn’t fond of the idea, expressed his concern to the nurse.

“Ma’am, are you sure it’s okay? The wound on my wife’s stomach is still fresh… Isn’t it too soon?”

“Sir, I get your concern and I can guarantee you it is necessary as it is a part of the recovery. Moving around after the surgery helps the recovery process. Don’t need to worry, we’ll check in on you every so often. If you need anything, you can call us by pushing the button next to the bed.” The nurse explained to both of you in a calm manner.

Mason sighed in relief and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said to the nurse, “this is my first time going through a C-section and my husband and I have been very anxious about it. Not to mention this was unplanned so we didn’t exactly come prepared.”

“Understandable. It is normal to feel nervous, Ma’am. We are happy to help.” The nurse acknowledged your worries.

As soon as the nurse left the room, you tried to get out of bed and grimaced while one of your hands was on your wound area. Mason was getting you a glass of water when he saw you – fright was written all over his face immediately.

“Baby!” He spontaneously yelled as he rushed over to your side and helped you. out.

“Ssshh, Mase, I’m alright,” you put your arm around his neck and tried to soothe him, “just want to get up, that's all.”

“Don’t be so stubborn!” He was shaking a little – he felt a genuine fear. “My God, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh please, don’t be a drama queen,” you couldn’t help but make fun of his reaction. “I said I’m alright, hahaha!”

He playfully rolled his eyes in response. You laughed at him and suddenly felt stabbing pain on your wound.

“Ouch!” You shouted. “Man, I can't even laugh without feeling pain!”

“Well, I’m glad you were amused but I guess no more comedy for a while for you, Mrs. Mount.” he said as he stroked your back.

Mason gently supported your body and carefully assisted you on taking your first steps post surgery. You squeezed your eyes, ground your teeth and winced as you were still experiencing the sharp pain – especially when you moved. Mason’s heart ached seeing you struggling like this, he felt guilty even but he knew nothing else he could do but support you throughout the recovery.

“Don’t rush it, sweetheart. It hasn’t been 12 hours after the surgery,” he emphasized. “Just take one little step at the time when you’re ready, okay?”

—

“Baby, Gem is coming here with my parents!” He excitedly shouted from across the room.

Your eyes widened and a squeal left your mouth when you heard that Gemma was coming. As you were in the hospital, Mason’s parents were taking care of her. You have been looking forward to the moment when your girls finally met. She had been impatiently waiting to be able to hold her baby sibling – she even practiced with her doll all the time.

At this point you could stand up, walk, and sit down. The incision still hurt and discomfort came and went all the time but the painkiller was working well and the bliss of having a newborn was able to distract your mind from the pain. Mason had been so attentive to you and always ready to help you. He thought you needed a day to rest, therefore with your permission he respectfully asked everyone – except your parents and siblings – not to pay a visit at the hospital and wait until you all settled at your home instead.

“Where is Gem now? Is she close? Are they here already?” You eagerly asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered, “I’ll call my mum.”

And before he even pressed call, Debbie texted him to let him know they just arrived at the hospital. He was beaming when he saw the text, and passed the news to you.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them,” he said as he kissed your forehead and got out to pick them up.

Trying not to hurt yourself, you didn’t act too excited on the outside but you sure were within. Sitting down on your bed, you pulled the baby crib closer and carefully picked her up.

“Hey little angel,” you whispered softly into her tiny ear, “you’re about to meet your big sister. She’s been waiting for you… You’re going to love her as much as she loves you.”

She made a slight smile and you noticed that. You chuckled, you thought it was like she was also excited to meet Gemma. You gave little kisses all over her cute face, and as you did that you could feel how you were completely filled with great love and glee – one more girl has stolen your heart.

Suddenly, you heard the door was opened, followed by a little giggle you love so much. Your heart was beating really fast – it was going to be one of the biggest moments in your life – you didn’t know if you could handle your emotions when it happened.

You saw Gemma walking in with one hand holding her dad’s and the other covering her mouth. She looked so eager to finally see her baby sibling – she didn’t know it was a girl beforehand – and you wanted to see how she reacted when she found out she had a sister. Behind them were Debbie and Tony, and Debbie had already started recording with Mason’s phone. Gemma then saw you and excitedly yelled, “Mommy!”

You giggled and waved at her in response.

“Do you want to sit next to Mommy and baby peanut, Gem?” Mason gently asked her.

“Yes Daddy! I want to see my baby peanut now!” She responded impatiently.

Mason picked her up and sat her down next to you. When she saw her sister up close, she squealed and said “Wow, baby peanut is so small and cute!”

You introduced your firstborn to your newborn.

“Gemma, meet Iris…”

She gasped and looked at both you and Mason in disbelief.

“You have a sister, Gem!” Mason cheered.

Gemma was so happy to have a sister and she started to cry. You might have pictured this beautiful moment in your head before but what really happened was a lot better than you had imagined. It was quite overwhelming to see how emotional she was and you eventually cried as well. Mason was really touched, almost shed a tear when he saw how you and Gemma were crying. He immediately grabbed some tissues from his pocket – he was aware this was going to happen – to wipe the tears off his girls’ faces.

“Mommy… Can I hold Iris?” Gemma nervously asked, her big brown eyes were still watery but you could see the sparkles of joy in them.

“Of course, sweetie.”

You carefully handed Iris onto Gemma’s lap, teaching her how to support Iris’ little body. She was so gentle and cautious, uneasy at first as if she was afraid to hurt Iris. Mason tried to ease her since he got how nervous Gemma was – he kissed the top of her head over and over again while assuring her that she was doing fine holding her sister – and it worked out even though it took a while.

Finally feeling comfortable, Gemma gently let go of one of her hands and started caressing Iris’ cheeks. Her eyes were locked in just like his dad earlier, and you just knew she was so deeply in love with her little sister.

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she, Gem?” Mason was beaming in awe and Gemma nodded in agreement.

Both Gemma and Mason showered Iris with kisses. The immense amount of love Iris was getting made your heart soar. You looked at your husband and your girls and thought to yourself: how did I get so lucky?

Mason then gave you a quick but passionate kiss on your lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and expressed his gratitude and appreciation for you.

“Y/N, the way you had to bear the pain to bring me two amazing kids to our life is unbelievable. You are the most incredible woman and I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, for us… I’m so lucky to have you as my wife and the mother of our girls. I will always try to make you happy, feel loved and give you everything you need and deserve because you have given me the life I’ve always dreamed of…”

You had no words and were about to cry again. You pulled him closer and pressed your lips against his – it was a moment full of tenderness and sweet affection. As your lips parted, you two whispered “I love you” to one another.

Debbie – who was still recording – and Tony were also emotional although they were trying to keep themselves together because they thought they didn’t want to ruin the beautiful moment between your little family. You then asked the grandparents to come see the newest addition to the Mount family.

“Iris Mount… Such a beautiful name, Y/N!” Tony complimented.

“That’s perfect for her! Thank you, Y/N, for giving us wonderful grandkids!” Debbie chimed in and gave you a hug.

“Uh, Mum… I contributed too, you know. Why don’t I get a thank-you? ” Mason jokingly protested.

“Yes but you weren’t the one who carried them for months and gave birth, were you?” Debbie lightheartedly replied.

You chuckled at their banter – you held yourself back from laughing as usual because it would hurt you.

With his mother clearly winning the argument, Mason humorously backed out, pouted then stated his closing statement.

“That’s true. But Y/N and I do make the most beautiful babies.”

Debbie and Tony couldn’t help but laugh at his comeback.

—

Yes, he might not be the one who was pregnant and given birth, but he has always been an amazing and present father to Gemma. No matter how tight his schedule could be, he would always make time for her daughter. He might have missed a few milestones that happened unexpectedly but other than those he never wanted to miss out so much on his daughter’s life. When he was out of town for away games, he always asked for daily updates on Gemma and called you on Facetime in every chance he got.

Mason is an ultimate girl dad and takes great pride in it. He would dress up as princess wearing a tiara and Gemma’s little dress that barely fits him and have a tea party with her, buy a makeup set she asked for, and sometimes he would show up at training wearing a headband with the biggest bow on his head because Gemma put it on him before he left. He always said he loves being a girl dad and would do it all over again – now he really gets to do it all over again…

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem

#mason mount #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x fem!reader #mason mount x reader #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #footballer imagines #footballer fanfic #footballer fic #footballer fluff

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ringsofsaturnnnn · 6 months

Note

(I’m not sure if this is how I ask but I’m going for it. Let me know if it’s not right!😭)

Can I play blackjack all in with shigaraki? A cosmopolitan to drink! I’d like a reader with a sheep quirk!🩷

.˚ 🐑┊..⃗. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗽 ⌇

MDNI | t.shigaraki x fem!reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: shigaraki’s girlfriend has a sheep quirk and he can’t help but tease her every chance he gets

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) :: fem bodied reader, mocking/bullying, hair pulling, not a warning; but reader has white hair because of the sheep quirk, name calling (slvt, whvre), begging, spanking (sorta)

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: i’ve never written for shigaraki so please please please have mercy on me 😭. i highly suggest checking out senpai (who is tagged on my tag list) or @sluttyshigaraki for better shigaraki fics! this is not proofread. i’m sorry if this is completely ooc, i tried. i also kinda altered his quirk a bit so he can touch you without like.. y’know.. decaying you. i’ll be real honest when i say i haven’t finished mha yet so i don’t know everything about him☠️

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

tag list :: @callm3senpaii

a soft bleat escaped your slightly parted lips as your boyfriend harshly tugged on your hair. “t-tomura!” you whimpered. a stinging sensation shot across your scalp as your fingers curled around his bedsheets. “what’s wrong, hitsuji?” his voice was mocking as he slammed his hips into yours harshly.

“t-that hurts!” your hair was extremely sensitive seeing as it was part of your quirk. “that’s too bad,” he chuckled, the sound was hardly one of comfort. his “chuckle” was raspy, nearly comparable to the noise of nails on a chalkboard.

you weren’t quite sure how the two of you ended up becoming a couple. tomura was known for being the leader of the league of villains and a rather ruthless person. you, on the other hand, were a ua high alumni, who was working on becoming a pro-hero. never did you imagine you’d find yourself tangled within a villian’s sheets.

“poor, little lost sheep.” pulling your hair even harder, he pressed a harsh kiss to your lips. his thrusts were brutal, the headboard hitting the wall harshly. “can’t believe your shepard let you wander so far from the flock.” you knew he was referring to the hero you were interning with to help finish out your provisional hero license.

every chance he got, tomura teased you about your sheep quirk. he always made a jab at you being “lost” since sheep were known to wander off. sometimes he’d call himself your shepherd in a condescending manner, claiming that you’d never survive without him.

more soft bleats escaped you as his thrusts brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. “god, you’re so fucking tight.” he grunted under his breath. he kept a firm grip on your soft, silky locks of white hair. shoving your face into his pillows, he continued to use you as he saw fit. “g-gonna cum..” you cried out softly. another chuckle sounded from above you. “you’re gonna cum already? poor, pathetic little slut. you can hardly last five minutes.”

he finally released his hold on your hair, opting to grip your hips instead. sinking his nails into your flesh, he started pulling you back to meet his thrusts. “a-ah!” your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you buried your face in his pillow. “if you want to cum, you’re going to have to fucking beg me.” he grunted.

it wasn’t long before you were babbling helplessly into his pillow. your voice was muffled, tears were wetting the fabric as he continued to thrust into you harshly. growing annoyed with not being able to hear you, he pulled you up by your hair, causing you to yelp in pain. “try again, slut.”

“please! please let me cum, tomura! i’m so close! i need to cum!” you wailed helplessly, a few bleats weaving itself through your begs. he smirked, but he wasn’t completely satisfied yet. “yeah? you wanna cum?” he mocked. trying your best to nod, you weakly opened your teary eyes.

“tell me who owns you.” the look in his eyes was sinister as he stared at your pretty, arched back. “y-you,” you hiccuped. “you own me!” squeezing your eyes shut once more, you felt your legs start to shake. “good little sheep. you can cum now. make sure to thank me while you do it, whore.”

a few thrusts later you were cumming all over him, loud moans escaping you. “o-oh!” panting, you immediately began thanking him. “thank you. thank you for letting me cum! thank you..” you were breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

he laughed loudly before spanking you. he gently rubbed your ass as he spoke. “you’re welcome, whore. now, stay still while i fuck you full of my cum.”

hitsuji - 羊 :: japanese. means sheep.

dividers & main picture made by :: @strrynigghts

#: ̗̀➛ crow club specialties #˗ˏˋ saturn’s stories ´ˎ˗#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki smut #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura smut #tomura x reader #tomura x reader smut #mha tomura #tomura shigiraki x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki smut #bnha tomura #tomura x y/n

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slut-taylorsversionnn · 2 months

Note

hey! Thank you so much for the last fic! I loved it so much!!! I’m sorry to ask for another one so soon, but today is my birthday, and I was wondering if I could get one of Tom celebrating readers birthday? If not that’s totally cool. Thank you so much!!!

happy birthday! i have been so busy so i haven’t written anything in a little while but here you go, hope you enjoy!

summary: y/n’s birthday and tom planned a surprise…

i woke up feeling so excited, it was my birthday and tom had been acting a little suspicious lately. i was hoping he planned an elaborate surprise but whatever the day held i knew it would be great because i would be spending it with my boyfriend tom freaking blyth!

i got out of bed once i noticed tom must’ve already woken up. i walked into the kitchen and tom was on the phone with someone.

“hold on i gotta go.” tom said quickly.

weird i thought. “who was that?”

“oh it was just a work call but i said i had to go because it’s my favorite person’s birthday!” he said as he walked towards me. he snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me into a kiss.

“so i was thinking we could go to that cafe you love for breakfast and then do some shopping and you could pick something out to wear because i have a little something planned for tonight.” tom explained.

“first of all, love the cafe idea and would love to go shopping with you. but how am i supposed to pick something out to wear for your little surprise if i have no idea what’s going on??” i replied.

“well darling that’s why i’m going along to make sure you pick the perfect thing. trust me i’ve got you.” he smiled and winked.

“ok then, i’m gonna start getting ready.”

“ohh i just thought of something…” tom said.

“what..?” i was so confused.

“we should do an instagram live and get ready together! it’ll be so fun for your birthday.” tom suggested.

“ooh wait yeah that sounds fun. and the fans will eat that up.” i laughed.

“so it’s y/n’s birthday and we’re getting ready to get brunch and shop for a dress for her to wear to my special surprise tonight.” tom was telling everyone on live.

“woah there’s already 80k watching you just started that live.” i said walking into frame. i had just gotten dressed and put on a little lilac sun dress that i absolutely adored and was saving for today.

“you look so stunning right now love.” tom commented and seemingly forgot we were even on live as he pulled me in by the waist and kissed me. he pulled away when he remembered we had an audience. i blushed and then looked at all the comments rolling in.

user: tom and y/n are so couple goals

user: tom forgot about the whole rest of world when y/n walked in

rachelzegler: happy birthday to my fav!!!!

hunterschafer: happy birthday bestie!!!!

“aww thanks rachel and hunter” i loved my friends so much.

i finished getting ready and then me and tom started walking to my favorite little cafe. i ordered my usual coffee order and tom got his oat milk latte as always. then we walked to the first of many shops.

“so what am i even looking for?” i asked

tom started picking out fancy dresses that he wanted me to try on, “something like this.”

“so it’s a fancy surprise you have planned then mr blyth..” i said wiggling my eyebrows.

“i could tell you but then i’d have to kill you.” he smirked.

so once tom had picked about 200 dresses for me to try on we headed to the dressing room.

i came out wearing a pink dress with lots of ruffles, “i feel like im wearing what would happen if a cupcake and a ballerina had a baby.”

tom started cackling, “yeah that’s not the look i was going for.”

next dress was definitely giving tigris vibes but definitely not something i could pull off, “umm am i about to attend a panem fashion show?”

“i think effie would be proud,” tom replied still grinning.

30 dresses later i slipped on the most beautiful magenta silk dress that fell to the floor with a slit coming about thigh length. it was soo gorgeous. i stepped out of the fitting room and let me tell you tom’s jaw DROPPED.

“y/n…wow just wow.” he was stunned.

i felt the blush creeping onto my face. “all these years of dating you blyth and i can still make you speechless.”

“well when you look like that, it’s not hard to make me speechless. i can’t believe it you’re so beautiful. we definitely have a winner.” he gushed.

“i think we definitely have a winner too.”

so after shopping we stopped to grab some pizza for lunch and then we headed back home to get ready for tom’s big surprise. i hadn’t really heard from rachel or hunter today and they’re never quiet so i was definitely feeling suspicious. i did my makeup, curled my hair, put on my dress and gold sparkly heels. i was looking at myself in the mirror and saw tom coming up to give me a hug from behind. he was in a suit with a matching magenta tie.

“what’s going on in that head of yours love?” tom asked.

“just thinking that dang you are so hot,” i laughed and leaned to kiss him. “i love you so much tom.”

“i love you so much y/n. let’s go get you to your special night.”

tom insisted i rode to our destination with a blindfold on so it wouldn’t ruin the surprise. i felt the car start to park and tom came around to my side of the car and opened my door. he took my hand and led me towards wherever we were going. i felt us walk into a building and then tom led me into an elevator.

“are you sure you’re not kidnapping me right now?” i asked.

“no promises,” tom laughed and then i felt a little bit of a breeze stepping out of the elevator. tom untied my blindfold and-

“SURPRISE!” i opened my eyes and i was standing on a rooftop overlooking the rest of new york and standing in front of me was all of my friends. it was so beautiful.

“oh my gosh!” i said covering my mouth, “i can’t believe it this is so wonderful you all!”

rachel and hunter ran up to me, “y/n you look drop dead gorgeous right now.” hunter exclaimed.

“that dress was made for you!” rachel commented.

“aww guys i can’t believe you all pulled this off! i was getting a little suspicious but i didn’t dream of this,” i said looking around. the rooftop was decorated in tons of flowers and with the sun setting it was so perfect.

“i can’t believe tom was able to keep a secret from you, i thought for sure he would tell.” hunter said.

“wow i love the faith you all have in me. but yes it was hard to keep this a secret but im glad it paid off.” tom said giving me a side hug.

the night was filled with dancing and love and music. rachel even convinced everyone to do karaoke and tom sang one of my favorite one direction songs “steal my girl” for me and i dedicated “london boy” to him. we even sang “you and i” by one direction as a duet which is another one of my favorites. by far the best birthday ever!

author’s note: hope you all enjoyed, i really liked writing this one! i’m going to keep responding to requests so don’t worry, im just not the fastest writer. but also stay on the lookout for the tom blyth series im about to start.

#tom blyth #tom blyth angst #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fic #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #billy the kid #tom blyth smut #tbosas #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #rachel zegler #hunter schafer

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 months

Text

you wanting me tonight feels impossible || George Weasley

Title: you wanting me tonight feels impossible Pairing: George x Reader Summary: running into an old friend just might be the thing you need Warnings: mentions of cheating but it does not take place between George and the reader! A/N: here she is, the next part! Honestly writing this fic gave me major nostalgia vibes, to me it feels like a fic I would have written back when i first started on tumblr and honestly im not mad about it.

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

“Y/N?”

She turns at the sound of her name, eyes widening in surprise at who she finds standing behind her.

“Oh no way. George, hi,” Y/N greets. Her stomach flutters at the grin that spreads across his face, her mouth running dry at how good he looks.

The last time she’d seen George they were seventeen, and he was flying away from Hogwarts with Fred by his side. Most people had been laughing, overfilled with joy at watching the twins get one last prank over on old Umbridge before they disappeared into the night. And Y/N had been happy too, but she also found herself a bit mournful.

Her and George weren’t exactly friends she’d say, but acquainted in the way people from other houses were with each other after being in the same classes for seven years. They were friendly with each other in the halls and in classes, and the few times they’d been paired up for projects George had always been nice, and stuck around to talk with her about things unrelated to school or their coursework.

And like most girls in their school, she had a massive crush on him. Y/N had spent countless hours pining after the Weasley boy, doodling hearts around his name and imagining what it would be like to run her hands through his soft ginger hair.

So watching him fly away left her sad and mourning any chance she may have had with him.

To see him here now, older and more refined but still as handsome as ever, has her heart pounding, mind already going places she never thought it would go again.

“I thought that was you. How’ve you been?” George asks, holding his arms out for a hug. When she steps into his embrace he continues, arms wrapping around her middle. “It’s been ages, I never really see you around here.”

Y/N tries to keep her breathing even as George hugs her, not wanting to give away how much his casual touch is affecting her. She very much feels like that shy school girl she once was, no matter how many times she tries to remind herself that she is an adult now, and it’s perfectly normal for two acquaintances who haven’t seen each other in a while to hug.

“I moved abroad after graduation,” she explains as they pull away, hoping the blush on her cheeks isn’t obvious. “I was doing some work with magical creatures in Australia, but I started to miss home.”

Y/N decides to leave out the fact that what really prompted her arrival back to England was the discovery of her fiance in bed with a woman she considered to be her best friend, figuring that’s more of a conversation the second or third time they see each other. If they see each other again. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up.

“Don’t tell me you’re the new professor at Hogwarts?” George asks, a twinkle in his eye. When Y/N nods in affirmation, he laughs. “No way, that’s bloody brilliant. Fred and I are opening a branch of Wheezes up in Hogsmeade, I’m moving up there next week to run it. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors,” he finishes, nudging Y/N and giving her a wink.

“Guess so,” Y/N laughs, trying to dampen the butterflies in her stomach. “It’s actually quite a relief to hear that, I was a bit nervous about being up there with no company besides my old professors. I’m glad to have a familiar face around.”

George’s grin widens. “I’ve gotta run, but it was really nice to see you again, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon.”

Just as quickly as he was there he’s gone again, just like all of those years ago. But Y/N doesn’t feel sad. There’s just one thing she’s feeling, really:

Hope.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The grin that spreads across her face is automatic at the sound of George’s voice, and Y/N has to take a few deep breaths to center herself before turning around to greet him. She’s excited to see a matching smile on George’s face, and it only fuels the butterflies that have started to flutter in her lower belly.

“George,” she greets, motioning to the empty seat next to her in invitation. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I was hoping I’d run into you,” George starts as he takes a seat, shoulder nudging Y/N’s. “I was starting to think you were just a figment of my imagination.”

She can’t help the flush that takes over her cheeks, hoping it can be chalked up to the heat in the room from the crowded bar. Y/N has been up at Hogwarts for almost a week now, and while getting ready for classes and settling into her new suite at the castle has been time consuming, she’s been avoiding heading into Hogsmeade. It’s not that she hasn’t been dying to run into George again, because that is definitely something she has thought about nonstop since their last chance encounter.

It’s more like she’s been scared to see him again, scared that whatever old feelings their chance encounter dragged back to the surface aren’t returned. That she has been dying to see him again while George was off living his life, not giving Y/N and their brief reunion another thought.

But even in just these few short moments since he sat down, Y/N feels all those fears fading away. George is the one who sought her out, the bar is crowded enough that she’d have been none the wiser if he snuck in and took a seat somewhere else to try and avoid her. And yet he is the one who came over, the one who took a seat and decided to settle in at her side.

Y/N can’t help but hope that this isn’t one sided after all.

“Things have been busy up at the castle,” she explains, not totally lying. With only one week left until students arrive for the start of the year, even Filch has been on edge - constantly mumbling to Mrs. Norris as he mops the Great Hall for the fourth time. “This is the first night I haven’t been so exhausted that I fell asleep right after dinner.”

George chuckles, taking a sip of the firewhiskey Rosmerta has just placed on the bar in front of him. “I know the feeling. We did a bit of a soft launch this week for the new store, thinking it would be less busy without all the students around so I would have a chance to work out all the hiccups and get my new staff trained, but it was crazier than anticipated. So now I’ve spent the last few evenings working overtime to get everything sorted for our actual grand opening next weekend.”

“Look at you,” Y/N teases, bumping their shoulders together in a playful gesture. “Never thought I’d see the day George Weasley was putting in overtime. You sure you’re the same George who used to sleep through transfiguration?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he drawls, giving Y/N a wink that makes her heart flutter. “I’ll have you know that I retained more information by sleeping through McGonagall’s lessons instead of daydreaming during it.” He pauses then, a more serious look taking over his features. “But in all honesty, it’s so different when it’s something you’re passionate about - ya know?”

Y/N nods when George looks to her for confirmation, prompting him to continue.

“You’re right, in school I couldn’t be arsed to do more than what was required of me to not get kicked out. Though I guess it doesn’t really matter on account of the fact that Fred and I never finished anyway,” he pauses to chuckle and take another drag from his glass. “But doing everything for Wheezes, it doesn’t really feel like work. Like obviously at the end of the day I’m bloody exhausted and some days my whole body aches, but in the moment when I’m doing it, or when I stop to think about everything Fred and I have managed to achieve, I don’t really mind it at all.”

Hearing George speak so passionately about his work makes Y/N fall just a little bit more in love with him, and at the end of his speech she has to take a sip from her own glass to give her some time to think of something to say that’s not some kind of love confession.

“I’m really happy for you, George. You’re clearly passionate about what you do, and I’m glad that you found that for yourself.”

George’s cheeks flush, and he takes another sip to try and hide it. “What about you, Y/N? Have you found your passion?”

The way he mutters passion makes Y/N’s toes curl, and she prays to Godric that the shiver that runs down her spine isn’t noticeable.

“I thought I did,” she starts, shifting uncomfortably. She figured this conversation would come up eventually, but Y/N had been hoping she’d have more time to reconnect with George before airing out all of her dirty laundry. “The work I was doing in Australia was incredible. I could swear some of the creatures out there were straight out of a muggle fantasy novel, they were nothing like we’d ever learned about at Hogwarts.”

“So then why move back here?” George prompts when she hesitates to continue.

“I came home early from work one day, one of our dragon’s eggs had hatched, and my boss let everyone go home to celebrate. And when I walked in I couldn’t find my fiance anywhere, until I went into our bedroom to change and he was there. In bed. Railing my best friend.”

The noise George makes causes her to pause, and Y/N gives him a sad smile before continuing. “I loved Australia, but suddenly I just really needed to get the fuck out of there, you know? Like it’s a huge continent and yet the only way I felt like I could put enough space between myself and that situation was to leave. So when McGonagall reached out about the position at Hogwarts I said yes and didn’t look back.”

“Holy fuck,” George breathes after a moment of silence, draining the rest of the liquid in his cup. “I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, that was the last possible thing I thought you might say. But holy fuck.” He gives her a look, motioning for Rosmerta to refill their glasses.

“I’m sorry those dickwads did that to you, cheating is probably one of the worst things someone could do to you,” he continues once their cups are full again. “I’m sorry about Australia too, I can’t imagine having to leave Wheezes behind, it takes a special person to walk away from that.”

Y/N shrugs, desperately trying to trample down the butterflies in her stomach at George’s casual compliments. No matter how many times she tries to remind herself that George is just being a good friend, her brain can’t help but interpret his actions as something more.

“I mourned the loss of my relationship and Australia for a bit, but I don’t know. Something about being back home at Hogwarts just feels right.”Something about being here with you too, her brain adds unhelpfully. “I mean, if I had stayed in Australia I never would have ran into you that day,” she chides, playfully bumping their shoulders together.

The grin that spreads across George’s face is earth shattering, and he lets out a laugh as he raises his glass. “I’ll drink to that. Cheers, Y/N, to old friends and new beginnings!”

As their glasses clink together Y/N can only hope that her new job at Hogwarts isn’t the only new beginning they’re toasting.

“Well I must say your workplace looks much more fun than mine,” Y/N jokes as she comes up behind George, giving him a grin as he twirls around to see her. “And miraculously it seems much louder as well,” she continues following a roar of laughter.

“Y/N!” George greets excitedly, his smile stretching across his entire face. “I was hoping I might see you here today.”

She can feel her cheeks flush, and takes a deep breath in to try and quell the butterflies in her stomach. “Of course, there’s no place I’d rather be on my first day of freedom.”

Since the day students arrived at Hogwarts, Y/N has barely had time to breathe - let alone sneak down to Hogsmeade. Between planning her lessons, actually giving those lessons, grading assignments and fielding student questions and visits to her office, the only thing Y/N has managed to do once she retires to her quarters in the evening is pass out face first into bed. And while her and George have exchanged a few owls here and there since their last encounter, nothing beats actually seeing him in person.

So when McGonagall asked for staff volunteers to chaperone the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, Y/N��s hand was first in the air. She’d much rather spend her Saturday meandering through the little village than facilitating weekend detention. And if she happened to wander into the new shop along main street that’s run by a familiar ginger boy - then so be it.

“I’m honored,” George responds. He gestures wildly with his hand, taking a step closer to Y/N so he can lean in closer. “Let me give you the grand tour.”

George leads Y/N around the shop then, pointing out different products and explaining what they do. He keeps a hand pressed to the small of her back to keep her close, and the heat of his palm sends tingles radiating through her body. She’s mesmerized by the way he talks about his work, and Y/N is almost too focused on watching his eyes twinkle that she’s not even sure what he’s actually saying most of the time. At one point he even leans in to whisper in her ear so she can hear him over the noise of the store, and the feeling of his breath brushing her cheek sends a wave of shivers down her spine.

It seems like only a matter of minutes before Y/N and George end up back where they started, and much to her surprise and joy, George doesn’t make a move to pull away. His hand stays firmly pressed against Y/N’s back, and she takes the liberty to lean in even closer to the ginger man.

“So,” George murmurs, lips barely brushing against her hair. “What do you think of the place?”

“It’s great, George,” she answers honestly, still in awe of everything Fred and George have managed to build over the last few years. “You can tell how much you really care about what you do, and the creativity George, your mind is incredible.”

A light blush coats George’s cheeks as he waves away Y/N’s praise. “Oh stop, it’s not like I’m a professor or anything,” he teases, giving her a nudge. “I’m just a silly guy with a brother and a dream - that’s all.”

“George,” Y/N admonishes, nudging him right back. “You really are brilliant, and anyone who’s ever made you doubt that is a git. What you and Fred have done is amazing, you’ve taken your passion for something and turned it into this empire that does nothing but bring joy to people. That took a lot of hard work, dedication and skill. It’s incredible George - truly.”

Neither one says anything, just letting Y/N’s words hang heavy between them. The noise of the shop has faded into the background, electricity so heavy in the air Y/N can feel it tingle on the tip of her tongue. George starts to slowly lean down just as she starts to tip her head back, their bodies moving closer of their own accord.

Eyelids fluttering closed, Y/N can feel George’s breath ghost across her lips - the only thought in her head a quietly whispered “finally.”

Just as suddenly as they came together, Y/N and George separate as a worried voice calls out. “Professor! Professor, come quick! John and Thomas are fighting again!”

“Duty calls,” George sighs, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. He lets his thumb drag down across her jaw, pausing momentarily to lightly grapes her chin. “See you soon?”

All she can manage in response is a nod. Taking one more moment to mourn what could have been, she rushes away from George, cursing those damn kids to hell.

“Excuse me professor - do you have a moment?”

Y/N’s hand pauses mid scribble, fingers practically snapping the quill she’s holding in half as she looks up to find none other than George Weasley standing in the doorway to her office. The smile that spreads across her mouth matches the one George is wearing and she pushes the papers she’d been grading, gesturing for him to come in.

“I think I may be able to spare a moment just for you,” she teases. Y/N stands up from behind her desk, watching George closely as she comes around to stand in front of him. “How in the hell did you get in here?”

George chuckles, stuffing his hands into his packers as he gives Y/N a shrug. “Turns out the secret passages Fred and I used to sneak out of the castle are just as helpful when trying to sneak in to it.”

Y/N tuts, shaking her head as if in shame. “George Weasley sneaking into Hogwarts. What would Fred have to say about that?”

“Fred snuck out plenty of times to go and see a cute girl, I reckon he’d understand me sneaking in to do the same.”

George’s boldness surprises Y/N, and she suddenly can’t make eye contact as her cheeks flush pink. A single finger comes to rest on the underside of her chin, slowly tilting Y/N’s face up so she and George are looking at each other once again. Her body feels electric as their eyes meet and a shiver runs down her spine.

“Hi,” George greets breathily after a moment of silence. The smile he gets in response causes a torrent of butterflies to erupt in his stomach and he can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage.

“Hi,” Y/N responds, voice barely above a whisper.

If you had told her all those years ago that someday she’d be standing here right now with George Weasley with his hand pressed against the side of her neck as his thumb skates across her jaw line she would have called you crazy. It seemed impossible that George would even give Y/N a second thought, let alone sneak back into the castle for just a moment with her. All of her dreams are coming true - and Y/N is too tempted to pinch herself to make sure it’s all real.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” George starts. The words move quickly out of his mouth, as if he’s trying to get them all out before he loses the confidence he has managed to scrounge up. “Like since that moment I saw you at the potion shop all those months ago. My one regret from our school days was that I never got the nerve to ask you out. And then when I never saw you in the shop or around Diagon Alley I figured I’d missed my chance. So when I saw you that day, standing in the middle of a shop I’d gone to hundreds of times over the years it felt like, I dunno it felt like.”

“A second chance,” Y/N finishes for him, voice lit with disbelief.

George grins, giving a small nod. “Yes, exactly like that. And suddenly you were every thought that occupied my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about running into you again, and the interactions we had in school, what might happen between us now that we’d be living ten minutes from each other. You were just on a loop in my thoughts.”

“It was probably stupid of me,” George continues, eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “We’d had one conversation after years of not speaking and we were never really friends at school but I couldn’t help but feel-.”

“Hope,” she finished again. “And it wasn’t stupid of you, George. Because I felt the exact same way. Seeing you that day made me truly believe that taking that job at Hogwarts was my opportunity for a second chance. A second chance at finding my dream job, of finding my true home, of finding true love. You made me feel that George and I-.”

Except whatever Y/N was about to say disappears from her mind, as George takes the opportunity to interrupt her this time. Without a second thought he finally closes the distance between them, their mouths slotting together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other. Her hands find his shoulders as his find her neck, angling them so he can kiss her deeper.

And there’s still so many things they need to talk about and figure out. But in this moment the only thing Y/N can think about is George, and this weird but beautiful thing they’re about to discover.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley fic #gw #harry potter fanfiction #golden #midnights: an anthology

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ghulehunknown · 3 months

Text

Creature Comforts - Copia X GN Reader

Photo credit

Rated PG: This fic is purely fluff and comfort; no mature themes aside from discussions about mental health.

Written for my Twitter friend <3

Summary: Papa treats you to a nice spa day after you’ve been dealing with some mental health issues.

CW/Tags: character depression, self deprecation, established relationship

Word Count: 2K

Author’s Note: Better days are ahead, my loves

Hey you busy?

Bloop, goes the familiar whoosh of the sent text message. You sigh, wondering when he’ll be able to respond. You know how busy he’s been lately.

Your phone buzzes almost immediately, to your surprise. You exhale a snort of laughter. A bunch of indecipherable, poorly strung together emojis - and finally, a response.

Never too busy for you, amore. Do you need something?

I’ve had a rough day

I’m exhausted

Can I come to your room tonight?

Oh. You mean our room?

“Our room?” you wonder. Your heart lifts for just a moment before falling back into the sinkhole of your chest as you remember what prompted these feelings that made you so desperate to hear from him in the first place. But you know you could hold it together so long as you had the promise of seeing him tonight. If you could just hold yourself together…

Your fingernails clack together on the screen as you type a response, backspace backspace, type type type.

Yes you old fool

I guess that’s what we’re calling it

In that case…yes, you may. And bring some of your belongings. I have a drawer for you. See you soon, my love. XOXO.

He even includes a little rat emoji.

You heart-react the message as you finish up work for the day. Afterwards you retreat back to your room and slump over your mattress, giving yourself some time to decompress before going to Papa’s - well, your shared room.

You gather some belongings in a tote bag and make your way down the long corridor, finally stopping at the familiar wooden door. You knock, then suddenly feel self-conscious. Should you have just walked in? What if he was undressing? Well, nothing you haven’t already seen -

“Amore,” he says, a pleasant smile on his face as he opens the door for you, gesturing with his arm for you to enter.

“Hey,” you respond quietly, leaning into him and wrapping your arms around his upper half.

He seems slightly taken aback by your very sudden display of affection but quickly reciprocates, enveloping you in his embrace and gently holding the back of your head and kissing the top of it.

The two of you stand there in silence, holding onto one another. You inhale the familiar scent of his cologne as your hands clutch around the soft cotton of his hoodie. Your fingertips rub the cloth fibers, grounding you and giving you comfort before breaking away after a few moments.

“I, eh, didn’t have much time to prepare. But, ah!” He scratches his head as he speaks then leads you into the bathroom.

As you walk into his bathroom your mouth falls open and you drop your tote bag to your side. Illuminated only by candlelight, you find the bathtub filled with warm, soapy water and a mug of tea on a tray resting over the tub.

“Is this…for me?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“Sì, it is. I wasn’t sure when you would arrive so I kept adding more hot water when it got cold. I poured some Epsom salts in to help with your backache, but you can add more if you need it.” He walks over and shows you the taps and bag of bath salts as if you didn’t know how it all worked.

You marvel at the simple act of kindness he offers you. No one had ever done this for you before. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing, but please - enjoy. I have some… business I must attend to, but I will be back soon, I promise.”

“Business? This late?”

“Sì tesoro, but it will only take a moment. Please,” he repeats, gesturing towards the bath again then clasping his hands together again and awkwardly shuffling backwards.

When you glance behind your shoulder again, he’s gone, having gently closed the door behind him. You undress and tie your hair up, then slowly dip your feet in. He had kept the water very warm, but not hot. You ease yourself in all the way, relaxing and feeling your back crack against the tub.

You lean forward to grab the mug of tea. It smells vaguely floral and sweet. You sip and smile; he had remembered just how strong you like your tea.

You close your eyes as your mind starts to wander. All the stress from the week runs through your mind, the fog of depression lifting but still present. The fog had become too familiar and some days all you could see was mist. But some days - the days you spent with Papa - you saw sunshine peek through the clouds.

It hardly seems like any time passes before you hear a knock and a timid opening of the door, just a crack of light shining from his bedroom into the bathroom. His nose pokes through the crack of the door as he clears his throat. “Eh, tesoro? Is it alright if I come in?”

“Of course,” you call, eyes still closed until you hear his footsteps get closer to you. You turn your head and look up at him. In his hands he’s holding a small bouquet of flowers in a vase and a box of your favorite sweets. His hair is ruffled and his cheeks look flushed.

“I didn’t have time to get these before you came over, I hope that’s okay,” he says almost out of breath, sheepishly looking away from your body.

“Okay?” you ask almost confused, but by his next sentence you can tell he does not understand.

“Ah sì, I should have prepared better…and not interrupted your alone time. Mi dispiace, tesoro mio,” he says, setting the items down on the vanity.

“No, Papa, please don’t apologize. It’s just…I…” Your voice begins to falter as your eyes well with tears.

“Oh shit, now I have made you cry.” He looks around for some tissue, muttering incoherently, and decides on balling up some toilet paper and offers it to you.

You shake your head and hide your face in your hands. You don’t want him to see you cry, but you can’t help the tears from flowing.

“I will leave you alone tesoro, I did not mean to upset you.”

“No,” you mumble through your hands.

“Hm?” You hear his knees crack as he groans the same way he does when he gets out of bed in the morning. Now his voice is practically in your ear. “What did you say, my honey?”

“Don’t go,” you say quietly.

“Okie dokie. I can stay here as long as you want me to.” He groans again as he shifts on the balls of his feet and his ankles crack. “Did I upset you, amore?”

You shake your head, finally taking the wadded up toilet paper from his hand and dabbing at your eyes.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Hmm, okay,” he says matter-of-factly. “Did someone upset you today?”

You shake your head again as you blow your nose into the toilet paper blob.

“Did something happen?” he continues asking.

“Not really,” you respond, turning your tear-stained face to look at him. He looks distressed, his brows furrowed.

He nods, and strokes your temple where he tucked your hair. You shiver and he dips his fingers in the water. He runs the hot water tap for a few seconds then swishes the water around. He wipes his hand off on the towel on the floor then continues stroking your face, his hand still a little damp.

“Why are you sad?” he asks.

“I…I don’t deserve any of this.”

“What do you mean ‘don’t deserve’?”

You gesture around vaguely at your surroundings. “This.” You pause before continuing, then look at him. “You.”

“Oh cara mia, no,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the side of your face. He caresses the back of your head, the ends of your hair damp from when you leaned back against the tub earlier.

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, holding your chin in his hand. His red hoodie has several damp spots across the chest. “Listen to me, amore. You deserve everything in this world and more. Much more than this aging fool can give you.”

You give a pathetic little laugh and close your eyes, crying silent tears. His black gloved thumbs wipe them away as he kisses your forehead. “Thank you, Copia. I almost believe it when you say it,” you say.

“Believe it, tesoro. Per me, sei perfetto. Sì?” He looks at you earnestly, his usually intimidating gaze softened under concerned eyebrows.

You nod, your face enveloped in his warm palms.

“How about you change into your pajamas so I can show you which drawer is yours, mm?” he continues, standing up. “I’ll give you a few moments.”

“That sounds good,” you respond with a small smile. Once he steps back out and closes the door behind him, you unplug the drain of the tub and slowly get up.

Your body feels immensely heavy, the water falling off you weighing you down compounded by your aches and pains. But overall you think the Epsom salts did some good because your shoulders feel looser.

You towel off using one of his maroon towels monogrammed with a gold IV and step into your comfortable pajamas. You step over to the sink and complete your nighttime skincare regimen before opening the door back into his room.

Of course, he’s playing a game on his NES and looking very invested in whatever it is. “Oh - eh - ah, there we go,” he says, pausing the game and getting up from his bed. “If you brought some things to keep here, I left…this drawer,” he continues, moving across the room to his dresser and opening one.

“Thank you…does this mean what I think it means?” you ask.

“Well if you think it means you’ll be staying over more often, then yes. I sure hope so.”

You smile at him and start to empty the contents of your bag into the vacant drawer. Some pajamas, a couple of habits, socks, leggings, a sweater, a bra, and underwear. His eyes get wide when he sees your racy red lace thong get tossed into the mix.

“And by staying over, I hope this also means more occasions where I can see you in those,” he says in a lower voice.

“Now Papa, what kind of Sibling do you take me for?” You turn around to face him, placing your hand on his chest.

“The slutty kind?” he blurts out. “Er -”

You burst out laughing, the first time you have actually felt joy all day. “Well, that’s not what I came here for this time.”

“I know, tesoro,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “I know. You know I never expect it, sì? Just because I am Papa does not mean I expect those things, or anything for that matter.”

“Of course,” you respond, squeezing around his torso tighter until he makes a small squeak and clears his throat. You let your arms slack around his trunk.

“Actually I had some very fun other kind of plans for us this evening,” he says slyly.

“What movie are we watching tonight?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Eh - how did you know?”

Sometimes Copia could be a very predictable man, but you liked that about him. “Lucky guess,” you respond, staring at the popcorn bucket and snacks spread across his bed.

“Well don’t just stand around here, go, get in bed!” He pulls away and gestures for you to hop in bed with him.

You cuddle up together, your head resting on his shoulder as he changes the input on his TV and scrolls through the home screen.

“Did you get a new TV?” you ask, not used to seeing the larger size screen. And it was a flatscreen. Wait, was it a smart TV too?

“Sì, I did. It just seemed time to let the old one go.”

“The old one wasn’t even big enough for you to play games on.”

“It did just fine! But, admittedly, the video quality was not so good for movie nights with you.”

“Copia?” you ask.

“Mm?”

“Did you buy the TV for me?”

“..You were a contributing factor,” he half-admits.

You settle back down on his chest and reach for the popcorn, smiling. “You bought it for me.”

Although he never confirms, you’re almost sure you can hear him smile back, if that’s even possible.

English to Italian Translation

Mi dispiace (I’m sorry)

Per me, sei perfetto (To me, you are perfect)

#ghost band fanfic #papa emeritus x reader #ghost bc #the band ghost #copia is my husband #copia my beloved #copia fluff #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction fluff #popia my beloved #popia #popia x reader #ghost band comfort fic

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laurenairay · 1 month

Text

comes back to me, burning red - F. Andersen

Summary: Kendra Lee and Freddie Andersen lost touch after he was traded from Anaheim – will a surprise encounter bring back their friendship? And maybe more?

I’m jumping in as a pinch hitter for @misshoneyimhome for @callsign-denmark’s Luck of the Puck fic exchange! I haven’t written about Freddie in a little while so it was fun getting back to him – and thanks for answering all my questions! Such a lovely twist of fate after receiving my own fic from her today.

Flashback sections are in italics.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: discussion of Freddie’s injuries, light angst, friends to lovers, cheesy flirting

Title from: Red by Taylor Swift

“Good morning Kendra Lee!”

Kendra grimaced, shutting the door to her yoga studio behind her, her long blonde hair swinging as she turned.

“Full name, first thing in the morning? What did I do?”

Her colleague and friend, Mimi, just snickered, shaking her head.

“Nothing bad, I promise,” Mimi said, smiling.

“Still ominous,” Kendra mused, swiping her staff card to log her as present in the building, “What’s going on?”

“Okay so you know how you moving over to Raleigh with me a month ago was to give you opportunities to do more yoga rehabilitation work?”

“Yes…?”

It was true, as vague as her friend was being. Having worked across yoga studios California for nearly 11 years, Kendra had jumped at the chance of diving more into rehabilitation work within yoga. Being made co-owner with Mimi and her sister Celeste was just the cherry on top.

“I was staying late last night to finish up the stock check and I got a call – specifically for you to do yoga rehab for an athlete needing conditioning to make his way back to playing. I know it’s right up your street, kind of exactly what you want to do more of, so I said yes.”

“You said yes already?” Kendra asked, surprised.

“I know, I know, but this is a huge opportunity. I said yes, with the caveat that I would double check timings with you this morning and let them know your availability for today,” Mimi explained.

“For today?” Kendra gasped.

“Yes, I know, but the guy organising it all for the athlete was insistent – the athlete chose you, off a list of yoga instructors based on feedback from other clients you had, and that’s huge,” Mimi said, wincing in apology.

Kendra took the time to think over her friend’s words, throwing her long blonde waves up in a twisted bun, her typical work hairstyle.

“You’re right. That is huge. Surprising, but huge. I guess, uh, just see what I’ve got this afternoon? I know I’ve got a couple of classes this morning already,” Kendra eventually said, “including…damn it, one that start in 15 minutes.”

Pregnancy Yoga, affectionately known as Moms who Move. Not women to mess around.

“Alright, you go get set up and I’ll call them back. Thanks, Kendra. And sorry for it being so last minute,” Mimi smiled.

“Hey, it happens. Let’s stay positive with it!” Kendra grinned.

As sudden as the work was, it really was where her heart lay, so this could only be a good thing right? Everything she’d been working towards?

“That’s the spirit I love! Get it girl!”

Kendra just laughed her way into Studio Two, her usual room, ready to make sure her class was set up in time.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, Kendra was pleasantly tired. All three classes had run smoothly so far today and there had been no major hiccups (or incidents) with any of her students. Even the Grooving Grandmas class (the adorable name her group of 12 senior ladies gave themselves) had behaved today, which only left her in a great mood.

So great, she lost track of time, until Mimi poked her head into the room.

“Hey, Kendra, your 2pm is here.”

“Oh damn, the athlete?”

“Yeah that’s the one. I’m just finishing up his intake forms if you want to join us,” Mimi said with a smile.

Kendra smiled back, nodding as she followed her friend out to the front desk. If she was being honest with herself, she would’ve liked a bit more preparation time, or even a name to start with. Hell, even the sport the athlete played in would’ve been useful, so she could start thinking of a program for them. Hopefully the athlete would understand the last minute nature of the set up. Hopefully.

But standing there in the lobby was the last person she expected to see. Just as tall and gorgeous and imposing as she’d last seen him in Anaheim, before he left over 7 years ago. He was her athlete?

“Freddie?”

“It’s been a long time, Kendra,” he murmured, smiling.

“You two know each other?” Mimi said, confused.

“How are your teaching hours coming along? You can’t have many left now before the next level, right?”

Kendra smiled up at her boss brightly. After her initial 200 hours training, she knew that teaching yoga was going to be her life’s work, even though she was only 21. Having worked insanely hard over the past two years, she was nearly ready to lead classes all by herself rather than as an assistant, and wasn’t that a heady thought? “No, not many left at all. As of yesterday I actually have 990 hours logged.”

“So you’re nearly ERYT 200?” her boss, James, grinned.

The third level of yoga instructor, after two years and 1000 hours of teaching.

“Just 10 hours left!” Kendra said brightly.

“That’s kind of perfect, if I’m being honest. We’ve been contacted by the Anaheim Ducks to run a conditioning class for a portion of the team. There are 20 players who’ve signed up, and the idea is that those who find it useful will sign up for more classes.”

“20 ice hockey players. My God. Will they take it seriously?”

She’d seen plenty of jocks in her 21 years and she knew exactly how much they goofed around when they didn’t care about things.

“Oh yeah, this is mandatory for these players and I’ll be evaluating them to send it back to their trainers. It’s serious – and it’s a big opportunity for the studio too.”

“Yeah definitely. And it’ll be good to see a different type of client for a change,” Kendra nodded.

“We love our yoga moms, don’t front,” James mused.

Kendra just grinned. She did love her beginner’s yoga mom class, he was right.

“It’ll be a big opportunity for you too, to work with them. If enough sign up, I’d like you to take on at least one for solo instruction the moment you have those 1000 hours done, to give you that experience. But if any of them give you any trouble, you let me know, okay? I won’t stand for it, regardless of who they are.”

“Thanks boss.”

“Any time.”

By the time 11am rolled around, Kendra was nervous. Not a bad nervous though, more like butterflies. She was so closed to her next stage of yoga teaching that she could almost taste it. She just hoped that this giant group of giant men would be a positive experience. They arrived in a herd, filling up the room quickly, and Kendra waited at the front of the room off to the side while her boss waited for them all to be ready.

“Alright, thanks for joining us today. I’m James Fields, owner and lead yoga instructor here, and this is Kendra Lee, who will be running this class alongside me,” he started.

She just grinned at the curious looks sent her way. Let them underestimate her, that was fine.

“As you all know, this class is mandatory and I will be evaluating you for your conditioning staff, so pay attention and we’ll all have a great time.”

Kendra watched a few disgruntled expressions popping up and fought not to laugh. Hockey players. She should’ve known they wouldn’t be any different. As her boss continued to talk, Kendra’s eyes drifted across the room, eventually landing on the man in front of her. Well, man was pushing it – this guy couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than her. A broad-shouldered redhead, pretty face, serious expression taking in her boss’s words. This one was paying attention. This one wanted to learn. Good. Even from here she could tell he would tower over her, although at 5ft2 that wasn’t really a difficult barrier. Maybe 6ft4? Maybe? Either way, this guy was going to be a good student, she could already tell.

As if he could sense his eyes on her, the man glanced over, catching her gaze. She froze, a little embarrassed to be caught staring, but he just smiled. Oh what a lovely smile that was. It was all she could do to smile back.

“If you’re all ready then, Kendra will lead you through Sun Salutation to warm up.”

She broke out of her thoughts, waving cheerfully at them all and earning a laugh. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” she grinned.

“Yeah Freddie used to come to classes at my first studio, back in Anaheim about 10ish years ago. It’s been a while,” Kendra nodded, forcing a smile on her face.

Mimi raised an eyebrow but smiled politely at Freddie. “If you head on into Studio Two, Kendra will be right with you. I just need her to sign a form.”

He nodded, following the instructions with a smile sent Kendra’s way, leaving her alone with her colleague.

“Okay what the hell was that?” Mimi asked, wiggling her fingers in the direction Freddie went.

Kendra sighed, hands on hips.

“That was an old friend who I haven’t seen or spoken to in over 7 years. Him coming here out of the blue just threw me off, that’s all.”

“Is he going to be a problem? Because I have no issue with kicking him out if he doesn’t deserve a moment in your company,” Mimi said firmly.

It was times like this that Kendra really loved her friends.

“No, no it’ll be okay. There was no drama, we just drifted out of contact. Sure it sucked, but it was a long time ago? It’ll be fine. Besides, like you said, this is a big opportunity for me to do more with yoga rehab, right?”

Mimi pursed her lips but nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. But let me know the second that you change your mind, if you need to.”

Kendra just gave her a quick hug, nudging her friend’s hip with her yoga mat, before heading resolutely towards Studio Two.

“So you enjoyed the last group class then?”

“I did. Anything to keep my flexibility up as good as it can get, right?”

Kendra just smiled, nodding. “Not that you seemed to have a problem with your flexibility.”

“Well I certainly haven’t had any complaints.”

He froze the moment the words left his lips, looking mortified. It was all she could do to burst into laughter at the horror on his face.

“I am so sorry. That was so unprofessional,” he groaned.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard since I’ve started here,” she said, still giggling, “You have nothing to worry about Mr Andersen.”

“Please, call me Freddie?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as his cheeks flamed red.

“Sure thing. Now let’s talk solo session scheduling – what works best for you?”

Kendra took a shaky breath as the memories of her first solo yoga session with Freddie washed over her, before steeling herself, pushing open the studio door. Freddie was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor on the mat he’d brought with him, and immediately smiled up at her, loosening a bit of tension in her chest. She could do this. She could totally do this.

“Hey, Freddie,” she said, unrolling her own mat.

“Hey Kendra. It’s good to see you,” he replied as she sat down opposite him.

“Good to see you too. I won’t say it isn’t a surprise because that would be a lie, but it is good to see you after all these years.”

Freddie winced a little, making her grimace inside. Was that too much?

“About that…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, so Kendra quickly shook her head. Their past wasn’t what this was all about, and it would do neither of them any good to hash it up now.

“You’re here now,” she said firmly, “So, yoga rehab. Do you know much about what it entails or if there’s anything your team specifically wants?”

“Uh, I only know the basics really. Obviously I’ve done it a lot before for conditioning, which is what my trainer said this mostly will be as my injury was a blood clotting issue rather than muscles or joints?”

Blood clots. Damn. And for someone only in their 30s?

“That must’ve been really scary,” she murmured.

His eyes widened a little in surprise, but he nodded, smiling sadly. “I genuinely thought my career was over. I’ve been out for stretches of time before, but never for anything like this. I felt…helpless,” he admitted.

She could only guess he was being so vulnerable because of their history but she still appreciated his honesty. It can’t have been easy to admit such a thing.

“I can imagine you would, yeah. But the team are figuring it out, right? They wouldn’t be signing you up for yoga rehab if they didn’t have a plan in place?” Kendra said, trying to be positive.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. They’ve tried a few things and they seem to be happy with the results anyway – they’re looking at about a month if all goes well,” Freddie nodded.

“That’s fantastic. I’m glad I’ll be able to help you get back to where you need to be. I’ll do a bunch of research after today, to make sure I’m not pushing you too hard, to make sure I’m doing the best I can for you,” Kendra said, smiling.

One month. One month with a rehabilitation she’d never come across before. This was the exact kind of challenge she wanted – and it would be with Freddie?

“I know you will, Kendra. I trust you completely. I just…”

He trailed off, chewing his bottom lip, his hesitation making her chest ache.

“What is it?” she prompted, trying to be gentle.

“I don’t want this to be it. I’m not ready for my career to be over. I still want, no, need to prove myself,” he said softly.

“Your talent and reputation precede you, Freddie. Everything that you’ve achieved with the Leafs and now with the Canes? How beloved you are by teammates and fans? You prove yourself, every day.”

“You’ve followed my career?” he asked, clearly surprised.

To be fair, she didn’t think she would’ve been able to keep following him after he left Anaheim, but it was Freddie.

“How could I not? We were friends,” she shrugged, trying to keep her voice light.

A wave of sadness washed over Freddie’s expression, making her heart clench in her chest, but before he could speak, Kendra cleared her throat.

“You’ve got this, Freddie Andersen. We’re going to get you back to where you need to be, and you’re going to kick metaphorical ass. Maybe even literal ass if you need to,” she said firmly.

Freddie managed a small smile, nodding.

“Let’s do this then.”

“Hey, Kendra. Thanks for today. I really enjoyed the session.”

She looked up at Freddie as she took her hair out of the twisted bun she put it in for working, letting her hair cascade down her back in blonde waves.

“You don’t have to thank me every time, you know,” she mused.

After that fateful first group class, Freddie has eagerly signed on for more conditioning classes at her studio, and her boss had happily signed him on as her first solo yoga client the moment she reached her 1000 hours milestone. It had been intimidating, if she was being honest, but she was thriving under her own steam, leading all on her own. It didn’t hurt that Freddie was a willing student, keen to increase his flexibility and core strength. And it didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous either – but that was just for her own thoughts.

“I want to thank you though. The team, management in particular, are really noticing the work I’ve put in as full-time backup, and that’s all down to you,” Freddie said with a shrug and a smile.

“Well in that case, gold star for me,” she grinned.

Freddie barked out a surprised laugh, making her giggle as she rolled up her mat.

“Did you, uh…do you have any more classes now?” he asked, awkward enough for her to pay attention.

“No, you were my last of the day. Why?”

“There’s a new smoothie bar that’s opened up down the road and I was going to go after this – if you want, come with me? I’d love to learn more about how you got into yoga instruction so young,” he said hopefully.

Kendra eyed him for a moment, trying to read any implications or anything untoward in his words. The last thing she wanted was to give off the wrong impression, especially in her first adult job, but Freddie just looked so genuine that she couldn’t help but to smile. A friend couldn’t hurt, right?

“I could go for a smoothie,” she said after a moment or two, nodding.

“Great! Um, I’ll shower, change, and meet you in the lobby?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she mused, “See you soon.”

Within no time at all, Kendra had changed into a cute little cropped lilac sweater and black jeans, leaving her hair down her back to dry in waves. She hadn’t packed any makeup with her, annoyingly, but Freddie saw her all the time without makeup so she guessed it didn’t really matter. Even if she would’ve preferred a dashing of mascara and a swipe of lipgloss. Maybe she’d have to leave a spare of each in her work bag, just in case any future hangouts after work happened.

If today’s smoothie run wasn’t awkward, of course. Damn she hoped it wouldn’t be awkward.

“Ready to go?”

“Let’s do this!” Kendra said cheerfully.

Freddie just smiled down at her, easily towering over her 5ft2 frame with his 6ft4 one – yes she’d looked up his height to be certain, she was curious – opening up the door for her to walk through first.

“Such a gentleman,” she teased.

“I aim to please,” he drawled.

Kendra snorted, immediately covering her face in embarrassment, but Freddie grinned like a cat who got the cream.

“Cute snort,” he smirked.

“Ass,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue to let him know she wasn’t actually mad.

Freddie just laughed, a clear beautiful sound that sent butterflies in her stomach going overdrive. No, this was not the time. Be a professional. Don’t be a giggly idiot. Damn it.

The walk to the smoothie bar couldn’t have taken more than 5 minutes, the two of them staying in a comfortable silence – something that Kendra found difficult with people she’d known for years, so for her to feel such at ease with someone she barely knew? It was strange. Nice, but strange.

“Okay, what’ll it be?” he asked, looking up at the board, “My treat.”

“Are you sure?” she frowned.

Sure, this was her first job and she’d only been in it a couple of months, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pay her way.

“Absolutely sure. I insist,” Freddie said firmly.

The intensity in his eyes, warm but solid, made her inhale sharply and nod. If he insisted…

“I’ll have almond milk, pineapple, kale, and mango, with a dash of honey. Thanks, Freddie,” she said, smiling up at him.

He just smiled back down at her, sending those butterflies into overdrive again, stepping forward to repeat her order as well as giving his own. When their smoothies arrived, Freddie walked over to a table in the corner so she followed, sitting down with a happy sigh.

“Oh man that’s good. Thanks for inviting me out,” Kendra said, after taking a sip of her smoothie.

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to actually meet someone near my age that as interested in yoga as I am,” Freddie said simply.

“Yeah? Not too many friends or girlfriends wanting to join you?” she asked, somehow managing to stop herself cringing to hard at the wording of her question.

Freddie just smirked slightly but didn’t call her out, thankfully. “No friends who want to do yoga with me, no. Most the team only do yoga when they absolutely have to. And no girlfriend either.”

“That’s a shame,” she said lightly, ignoring the zing through her body, “Yoga is fun and a great stress-reliever.”

“Is that why you got into it then?”

Kendra relaxed back into her seat, taking another sip of her drink, before starting to talk. Over the next hour, the two of them exchanged life stories, getting to know each other properly. Freddie talked about his career so far in the Danish league, how different and difficult it was to move over to Anaheim in August, how he’s just trying to make his mark now he’s been with down with the AHL team most the season and only up for a week. In turn, Kendra talked about how she’d always lived in California, having moved from her hometown in Santa Monica to Anaheim after meeting her now-boss at a training course, how she’d seen her mom doing yoga with her friends and fallen in love with the flow and peacefulness of it as well as the strength it gave. Talking to Freddie felt like they’d been friends for all her life, something she’d never experienced before, and she could only hope this wasn’t the last time they got to do this. Freddie was special, that was clear as day, and she felt lucky to see this relaxed side of him that she doubted many were privy to.

Eventually though, once their smoothies were finished, they had to leave before they overstayed their welcome, and Freddie walked her back to her car.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking across the parking lot on my own, you know,” she mused, jerking her chin in the direction of his car, all the way on the other side.

“And if some weirdo stalks you to your car when I can prevent that, I’d rather avoid you being alone,” he shrugged.

“Aww are you my knight in shining armour, Mr Andersen?” she teased.

Interestingly, his cheeks dusted with a blush.

“I’ll sweep you off your feet any time you need, Miss Lee,” he smirked.

Kendra just burst out laughing, shaking her head at his banter flirting. Ridiculous guy. This was going to be a fun friendship, she could already tell.

“Give me your number? We can sort out another smoothie run,” Freddie said, smiling.

She ignored those traitorous butterflies and nodded, unlocking her phone and handing it over. It could only be a good thing to have more friends in Anaheim, right?

“You think you can handle seeing me outside of the yoga studio?” she mused.

“Oh I know I can.”

Kendra and Freddie settled on three yoga sessions a week for his rehabilitation, 12 in total, to give him the conditioning build up he needed while still taking care to manage his recovery. She’d spent all night after that first meeting researching and planning the best course of movements and flows for him, making it challenging but helpful, eventually dragging herself back to bed at 4am, satisfied that what she’d planned would help him.

With any client, she would want to make sure she was satisfied, but with Freddie? She needed it to. Even after everything, she didn’t want to let him down.

Their first two sessions went well, the first mostly easing Freddie back into the swing of things, assessing where his strengths and weaknesses were, and the second session left Freddie groaning but smiling, happy he was able to push himself. Their third session, which Kendra was preparing for, would be another mild push, nothing extreme but still to see where she would need to adjust any plans.

It was all a process, but one she was enjoying immensely. Not just because of her student.

“Knock knock.”

Kendra jolted out of her thoughts, hand on her heart as Freddie walked into the studio with a grin.

“You are the worst,” she groaned.

“So you don’t want the smoothie I picked up on the way?” he mused.

He brought her a smoothie?

Her lips parted in surprise, but she stuck her hand out anyway, Freddie just laughing as he passed it over. The moment she took a sip, a wave of nostalgia ran over her. All she could think about were the smoothie runs and coffees hangouts and even the occasional lunch they used to go to together. Two and a half years of memories all flooding through her system, and it was all she could do to keep her face calm and neutral as the memories of conversations and vulnerability and laughter swirled through her thoughts. This wasn’t fair. This really wasn’t fair. She wanted to be mad at him for daring to dive back into their past like him leaving meant nothing, but how could she? How could she be mad when those memories still brought her joy?

“Almond milk, pineapple, kale, and mango, with a dash of honey. My favourite. Maybe you’re not the worst. You really remembered this?”

“Of course I did. I loved our smoothie dates,” Freddie nodded, smiling.

Dates?

“Dates?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Figure of speech? I don’t speak English?” he offered.

“Yeah nice try, I’m pretty sure your English is better than most people I know,” Kendra mused.

Freddie blushed but laughed.

“How could I forget anything about the girl who got me doing the best Bridge pose of my life, hm?”

She tried valiantly not to think about how good Freddie looked bent over in a backwards arch. Valiantly.

“Alright, but don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you, Freddie,” she said brightly, “We’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned, “Give it to me rough.”

Kendra took a moment, trying to hold in her laughter, before she gave in and cackled.

“Oh man that was so bad, even for you,” she grinned.

“Not my finest, I’ll give you that,” Freddie shrugged, a light blush on his cheeks, “Still made you laugh though.”

Well he wasn’t wrong there.

Kendra sipped on her drink while Freddie laid out his mat, leaving the cup in a safe spot as she moved to stand in front of him.

“As always, let’s start with Sun Salutation,” she grinned.

The next hour flew by. As she promised him, Kendra did push him hard – some of the poses he wasn’t quite ready for, she could see that, at least even for the length of time they were trialling today. His natural flexibility hadn’t left him, that much was obvious, but there was still work to do. At least she could take pride in being part of rehabilitation that would never push him further than he was ready for. His safety, physical and mental, was the most important thing.

But he could do this. She knew that he could do this, and that excited her.

“Alright, that’s us done for today. Thanks, Freddie,” Kendra said softly.

Freddie opened his eyes, practically floating from savasana, face flushed from exertion.

“Thank you, Kendra. I feel awesome. Tired but awesome,” he grinned.

“Not aching too much anywhere?” she asked, standing up gracefully.

Freddie groaned as he stood up, rolling his shoulders as he checked in with himself. Kendra smiled wryly at the action – at least she could trust an athlete to know his own body.

“No, not too much,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she frowned, hands on hips.

“I promise. I know the difference between aching from a good workout to aching from injury and pain. This is good,” Freddie insisted.

Well alrighty then.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Kendra said happily, rolling her neck from side to side to loosen tension, “Take a shower, Andersen, I can smell you from here.”

Freddie barked out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

“Care to join me?”

“In your dreams.”

Freddie just smirked, sending a shiver down her spine. There. That was it, the spark she’d been missing for so many years.

“See you on Wednesday?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Freddie nodded.

From: Freddie I have a return date March 7th

From: Kendra That’s amazing! I told you that you could do it! These last eight sessions have really paid off! Do you feel ready?

From: Freddie As always, I should’ve trusted that you were right lol I think so? My body does for certain

From: Kendra And your mind? If you don’t feel mentally ready, Freddie, please don’t let them push you

From: Freddie Thanks, I appreciate that I think it’s more nerves than not mentally ready? Like, I don’t want to let the team down. And I don’t want critics to call me washed up

From: Kendra You could never let the team down They can see your passion, see how hard you’re working And screw the critics. They don’t know you or your body You are the furthest thing from washed up, so don’t talk about yourself like that

From: Freddie I’ve missed your fire. Yes ma’am

From: Kendra Damn right you have. That’s more like it

From: Freddie Can I still finish off my course of session with you? And maybe carry on for a few more afterwards? Just to make sure I still have that confidence?

From: Kendra As many as you want I’m here for whatever you need

From: Freddie Whatever I need? I like the sound of that

“So today’s your last official yoga rehab session with Freddie. How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, it’s all gone really well. It’s been nice reconnecting with him, as well as seeing him grow back into his conditioning and confidence. You were right, Mimi, this was a great idea,” Kendra grinned.

Mimi and Celeste both smiled at her, but the smiles quickly turned hesitant. What? What was wrong?

“Has he said something? Have the Canes said something?” she asked, starting to worry.

Had she done something wrong and he hadn’t had the guts to tell her?

“No, no, god no. Freddie’s had nothing but high praise for you since he got here and I have no doubt he’ll be saying the same to his team,” Celeste said quickly.

“He talks about me?” Kendra asked, not knowing whether to ignore the butterflies in her stomach or not.

“He does. And he always has a smile on his face when he leaves here, same as you. We just…”

“Just what?” she prompted.

“We just want you to be careful,” Celeste said, finishing her sister’s sentence.

What the hell?

Mimi winced at Kendra's expression before clearing her throat.

“When I met you, it was obvious that part of you was missing,” Mimi said softly, Celeste nodding.

What?

“What do you mean?” Kendra frowned.

“This fun flirty side of you? These beaming smiles? It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but seeing you around Freddie makes so much sense,” Mimi explained.

Okay that was crazy.

“We really are just friends,” Kendra said, shaking her head.

Mimi and Celeste send her matching disbelieving looks.

“No, really,” Kendra said, shrugging, “We always had this flirty banter but it was never anything more than that.”

“Never anything more?” Celeste said, raising an eyebrow, “Not even once?”

“No!” Kendra laughed, “He would come to my yoga classes, we’d get coffee or smoothies occasionally, sometimes lunch, but never anything more.”

“I really don’t think you see what we see. What no doubt everyone sees when they watch the two of you,” Mimi said.

“You can’t fake that kind of chemistry, Kendra. He clearly has feelings for you,” Celeste added.

What?

He had feelings for her?

And everyone saw it?

Mimi and Celeste watched her obvious turmoil with soft pitying smiles.

“Think about it. Just think about it. That’s all we’re saying,” Mimi said, her voice warm and reassuring, “And be careful?”

“You’re our girl, okay? We just want you to be happy,” Celeste said, smiling.

“Uh yeah, sure. I’ll think about it,” Kendra murmured.

It was all she could do to walk in a straight line for their staff kitchen, desperately needing a cold bottle of water to sip on while she sorted through her thoughts.

She’d always found Freddie attractive. That was something she could admit to without hesitation. But it was something she’d buried deep, knowing she could never act on it. Bringing that acknowledgement back up to the surface was terrifying, because it wasn’t just a physical attraction – it was everything about him. If she let herself think about how attracted she was to him, let herself think about his laugh, and his kindness, and his terrible taste in coffee, and his soft smile when he talked about his family, and literally everything else about him…she felt like she would explode.

How was she supposed to behave normally around him in their last scheduled yoga session, when all of these dangerous feelings were bubbling at the surface?

No, she had to find a way. She couldn’t ruin everything, not when she’d just got him back into her life. She just couldn’t.

Somehow, she managed to keep a lid on her emotions for her entire day until Freddie’s session at the end of her evening, running through the most challenging routines that pushed him to his limit, but left him with a smile on his face. He was ready. He was really ready for his return to play in two days time.

So why did it feel like everything was ending?

Freddie had stayed mostly quiet, focusing on his movements, but there were times in between flows that she caught him staring at her as if he was thinking. Thinking hard. It was almost off-putting, if it didn’t make her feel giddy. Were her friends right? Were her feelings really reciprocated?

Whatever was going through his mind, she didn’t know, but even she could feel a trembling intensity between the two of them that she couldn’t put a finger on. It felt like…anticipation.

When their class was over, Freddie insisted on waiting for her to grab all of her things, Mimi and Celeste just smirking as he waved goodbye to them, escorting her out to her car. This time he apparently hadn’t parked that far away from her, so he was insistent on walking her properly, although it could definitely be classed as more of an extremely slow stroll rather than a walk.

Like he was drawing this out as much as she was.

“You must be freezing,” Freddie murmured, “Here take my jacket.”

Before Kendra could form a word of protest at his sudden words, Freddie was slipping his jacket off and placing it over her shoulders. The warmth immediately hit her body, thrumming through her veins, and she knew without a doubt that her burning cheeks gave her thoughts away.

“There. Better?”

It was all Kendra could do to nod, staying silent as Freddie made a grunt of approval. Why was this affecting her so much? It was a just a jacket. It was just a jacket, right? It didn’t stop her sinking into the warmth though, picking up the scent of his cologne, ignoring the way her heart started beating that little bit faster.

She had to say something. She had to say something.

“Freddie…I need to ask you a question,” she said softly.

“Go for it,” he mused.

“Did you know it was me when you agreed to do a yoga rehab course?”

“What?”

Kendra exhaled a little shakily, but shook her head. She needed to know.

“When your team suggested yoga classes as part of your rehab treatment plan, how did you pick a teacher? Did you know I would be running this for you?”

“Ah.”

A single word. How ominous.

But Kendra just stayed silent, unwilling to say anything else before he did. She needed to know. It would change everything.

“The team gave me a list of options, with short descriptions about the teacher and any feedback from other clients. And…the moment I saw your name on the list, I didn’t have to think any further or look at anyone else,” he murmured.

“What?”

Freddie let out a shaky breath, halting his walk, so Kendra stopped next to him. What did he mean by that?

“I took it as a sign from the universe that I finally had a chance to make up for letting our friendship fizzle out. You were one of the best parts about Anaheim for me, and I was so wrapped up in my head in Toronto that I was stupid enough to let our friendship go. To let you go. I wanted to see you again. I knew that you would be amazing from the yoga side of things, but to get the chance to say that I’m sorry? I couldn’t pass that up.”

As he spoke, his words clear and his expression more serious than she’d ever seen, her heart started racing like it never had before. He really meant all of that, didn’t he? He really chose her?

“You have nothing to apologise for,” she eventually said, a little more breathless than she would care to admit.

“Yes, I do,” Freddie replied, huffing out a laugh, “You deserved better than I treated you.”

He looked relieved, like her being mad at him was even a possibility (not with them, never with him), but she just shook her head. Yeah, it had hurt at the time, when she finally resigned to losing contact with him – but that was over 7 years ago. With time, that hurt had faded into an ache, which in turn faded to occasional wistfulness. She could never hold a grudge against him for a trade, and certainly not for following his dream. That just wasn’t who Kendra was.

She started walking again, Freddie wasting no time in joining her, even though their steps were practically glacial in speed.

“Maybe I deserved a little better communication but it was so long ago, Freddie. I’m not holding onto past grudges. And honestly, the fact that you chose me because you wanted to reconnect? That’s all I needed.”

“Really?” he asked, voice hopeful.

“Really really,” she grinned, “Although I’m sure you can think of something to make it up to me.”

A grin spread across Freddie’s face too, making her feel a little giddy.

“Anything you wanted, Kendra Lee.”

“That is a dangerous offer, Frederik Andersen,” she shot back.

He just shrugged, grin not leaving his face. “You know I’m good for it.”

This, these flirty exchanges, served to do nothing other than light her blood on fire. Why was it always so easy to slip back into this with him like nothing had changed? That was a good thing, right?

“Come out with me on St Patrick’s Day night,” she blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed, but she just laughed.

“I’m going to a karaoke bar with Mimi and Celeste – join us,” she explained.

“That’s what you want? Out of all the things you could’ve asked for…you want me to join you for karaoke,” he said incredulously.

Kendra inhaled sharply at the implication in his words but nodded anyway, hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

“I do. It’ll be fun, to see you outside of work, and to do something with you that we’ve never done before. We already have a little booth booked and it’ll be better than cramming into a regular bar for St Patrick’s Day,” she said firmly.

He laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief, before eventually nodding.

“Alright, I’ll be there. Text me the address,” he mused.

Kendra just grinned, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach as they finally reached her car.

“Thanks for lending me your jacket, Freddie.”

“Any time.”

By the time the evening of the 17th March rolled around, Kendra was buzzing. She'd not seen Freddie since his debut back on the ice, him having given the three of them tickets to say thank you. Watching him win? It was everything, and she couldn't have been prouder of him. But with his schedule and hers, he hadn't scheduled any more classes like he'd said he'd wanted to, so Kendra had been limited to text messages, hoping that her daydreams weren't just silly fantasies.

Kendra, Mimi, and Celeste had been in O'Malley's for an hour, and Freddie still hadn’t arrived. The longer that time went on, the more disappointed she felt, not wanting to believe that after everything they’d regrown between them that he would just ghost her. No, that wasn’t Freddie. It couldn’t be Freddie.

“Breathe. Have a drink. He promised he’d be here, right?” Celeste said with a sweet smile.

“He did. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have changed his mind,” Kendra sighed.

“Hey, no sad faces. It’s St Patrick’s Day and we’re having a good time!” Mimi said cheerfully.

Kendra just groaned, taking a big gulp of her beer, her friends just cheering. They were right. She couldn’t dwell on this. If Freddie was going to come or whether he wasn’t, she was still out with her friends to have a good time. That was what she needed to focus on.

“Up next, Kendra singing Red!”

“Ooh girl that’s you, go!” Mimi squealed.

Kendra took a deep breath to steel herself, sliding out of their booth with a confident smile. If anyone could make her feel better, it would be Taylor Swift, she knew that much. As the intro music starting playing, she focused on letting it flow through her, tapping her foot in time with the beat.

“Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street, Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly, Loving him is like trying to change your mind, Once you're already flying through the free fall, Like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all.”

As if summoned by magic, the door to the pub opened, and Freddie walked in. Within seconds he saw her standing on the karaoke stage and stopped in his tracks, offering her a small stunned smile. He came. He didn’t ghost her. Freddie actually came as she asked him. That had to mean something, right?

“Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes, Tell myself it's time now gotta let go, But moving on from him is impossible, When I still see it all in my head, In burning red, Burning, it was red.”

She found herself pouring her emotions into the words, pouring everything she felt about Freddie into the song, not able to take her eyes off him. By now, Mimi and Celeste had noticed how she was performing just for Freddie – she could see their grins from across the room – and a few other patrons were starting to notice too. But she couldn’t stop herself. Her body felt almost out of control, singing her heart out to the only man who’d ever truly held it.

“Oh, losing him was blue, like I'd never known, Missing him was dark gray, all alone, Forgetting him was like trying to know, Somebody you never met, 'Cause loving him was red, Yeah, yeah, red, Burning red.”

His eyes were almost wild, locked onto her like she was the only person in the room. It was a heady feeling, giving her the confidence she needed to finish the song with a smile.

“And that's why he's spinning 'round in my head, Comes back to me, burning red, Yeah, yeah.”

She curtseyed dramatically to cheers and applause as the song ended, a wide grin on her face, and she moved to step off the stage, Freddie was already there with a hand extended to help her down. She took it silently, inhaling sharply as Freddie didn’t let go – instead her guided her across the room to the bar, the crowd parting with whatever intensity was on his face, so much so that they were served immediately.

“Two baby guinnesses,” Freddie asked politely.

The barman just laughed, nodding as he poured the shots, Freddie not letting go of her hand even as he paid for their drinks. He passed her one of the shots with a hopeful smile, the sweetness in his eyes intoxicating, so she clinked the glass gently with his, the cool liquid sliding down her throat smoothly.

“I wasn’t sure if you would make it,” Kendra said, offering him a small smile.

“I was thinking. Thinking about a lot of things. And I have something I need to say,” Freddie murmured, voice barely audible above the rumble of the room’s conversation.

“Oh?” she said, breath caught in her throat.

“I need to be honest with you, Kendra. I don’t think I can do any more classes with you.”

Oh. Everything in her chest felt like it was crumbling, Kendra barely able to get a breath in.

Wait, what?

“It would be incredible unprofessional of me,” Freddie added.

“Unprofessional? Freddie, if I’ve done something-”

The last thing Kendra was expecting was for Freddie to cut off her words with a kiss.

And not just any kiss. A toe-curling, melt into his arms, curl her fingers into his shirt kind of kiss. As his hands cupped her face and his lips moved with hers, it was all she could do to let out a soft little moan, interrupted only at the chorus of cheers and whistles around them. Freddie broke the kiss with a soft laugh, Kendra just feeling dazed, but his shy smile just made her giddy all over again.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long. I just didn’t think I could,” he admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

They were right. Mimi and Kendra were right.

“What changed?” she managed to ask.

“We changed,” he said. “We’ve both grown so much in ourselves since I left Anaheim and I am proud of both of us for taking what we need to make ourselves happy and successful. But I don’t want to lie to myself any more, thinking that I don’t need you too.”

“You need me?” she said, surprised.

“I do, in every way. I was an idiot for so many years, Kendra. I don’t want to waste any more time,” he said seriously.

“Jesus, Freddie, knock a girl for six why don’t you,” she said, huffing out a laugh.

He froze at her words, clearly fearing the worst, but Kendra just grinned. How could she be anything but excited?

“I’m yours, Freddie Andersen. I always have been,” she said happily.

The smile that spread across his face was worth a thousand lifetimes. This was what she had been waiting for. Exactly this.

“Now, buy me another drink and sing a song with me, and I’ll consider kissing you again,” Kendra grinned.

He laughed in disbelief but grinned so widely in response that it made her giddy. “One blue moon pale ale, coming right up.”

Her favourite girls night drink? How did he remember everything she’d ever said? They were really doing this. They were finally doing this.

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” she laughed.

“Probably. You love it though.”

That she did.

#my writing #frederik andersen fic #luck of the puck exchange #frederik andersen imagine #frederik andersen x oc #frederik andersen fanfic #carolina hurricanes fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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the1975attheirverybest · 8 months

Text

A/N: here is the requested coming out conversation with Matty. I know the whole point of doing these single-scene fics is to keep them short but….here we are.

Disclaimer and acknowledgements: I want to preface this by saying that i am not, myself, a queer person. So please feel free to reach out with constructive criticism. I have done as much research as I could and I’ve asked for feedback from some very, very generous queer friends on here who have offered me their insights and suggestions, and helped talk through it with me. I want to extend my very biggest and sincerest thank you to those kind friends. I’m humbled by your kindness and grateful for what you’ve taught me!

ANY ERRORS OR MISTAKES IN THIS FIC ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE, NOT A REFLECTION ON ANYONE WHO HAS HELPED OR GIVEN ME FEEDBACK.

Warnings: none.

———

She stood by the door listening into Matty’s home studio for any indication that he might be working on something. Unusually, though, she couldn’t hear the strumming of the guitar that she’d grown accustomed to, or the incoherent exclamations of excitement that Matty usually shouted out whenever he landed on something that he thought was particular good, not even the sound of the frustrated groaning of being stuck on a song for too long and not being able to finish it was coming from behind the door. The silence made the moment feel even heavier than it already felt in her mind. She knocked on the door with shaky hands, cracking the door slightly open and peaking through.

The sight of her boyfriend, laying down on the floor, next to his acoustic guitar, eyes closed, mop of hair splayed out around his head like a halo, made her smile. At least for a moment, she almost forget the anxiety that she’d tried to push to the back of her mind.

She walked into the room, shutting the door behind her and hurrying towards Matty. She got on her knees next to him, laying down on her back and looking up at the ceiling.

“What’re you doing?” She finally asked.

Matty’s eyes opened at the melodic sound of her voice. He felt himself smile. Her voice always makes him smile.

“Writing a song,” he mumbled, sliding his palms under his head like a pillow.

“What’s the song about?”

“You.” He replied without missing a beat.

She could feel her cheeks warm up. The fact that Matty’s compliments still managed to make her blush, or throw her off her feet, making her feel warm and fuzzy inside, even after all this time, baffled her.

“So, can I hear it?”

“Well, I haven’t written it yet. I might be a bit stuck. I just have a couple of chords that make me think of you.”

She slowly rolled herself to lay on her stomach, propping her face up by holding it in her hands.

She watched as Matty reached out his arm to the other side and grabbed his guitar by the neck, without even sitting up, he placed the back of the guitar onto his chest, adjusting it slightly so his hands were in position and his fingers on the frets, he strummed the strings, up and down, rhythmically, smiling up at the ceiling, imagining the expression on her face as she listened next to him. “Then I don’t know what happens in the middle. But then it goes like this…” switching his finger positions around, he strummed again.

“Pretty.” She remarked, softly, “like me.” She moved to lay back down on her back as Matty set the guitar away again, chuckling silently.

“Yes, exactly like you.”

The silence that followed in the absence of the chords he’d just played lasted a beat too long, making her chest feel uncomfortably heavy. She hated knowing something he didn’t. He was just laying there thinking about the song he’s trying to write for her. About her. Not knowing that she came here for a specific purpose. It felt unfair. He felt far away from her. Like he was an island and she was drifting in the waters further and further away from him.

“You’ve kissed boys before.” She blurted out, instantly regretting the clumsy opener.

Matty’s wandering eyes focused on the chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. His body perfectly still. “I have.”

“W-why?” She felt herself tense up. Hold her breath.

Matty was quiet for a moment, contemplating her question. Eventually, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Why not?”

He was quiet again, then, he turned to lay on his side. The side facing her. “I’ve kissed guys that I thought were pretty. And I’ve kissed the boys.” He stated. “With the boys it’s different, though.”

She was grateful for his perfectly normal demeanor. He was treating this line of questioning like any other. Not even asking her why she’d brought it up, or finding it unusual, but the fact that he was no looking directly at her, while she remained flat on her back, doing her best to avoid eye contact, made her feel uneasy. “D-different ho-how?”

“That’s a good question” delighted, he took a moment to think.

she heard the smile in his voice and it almost made her turn to look at him.

“I think….with, like, other guys, it was kind of a compulsion that I gave into? Like- you ever read something or see a work of art, or hear a song, and feel it in your bones? Like it’s so beautiful, that it has a physical effect on you?” He laughed at his own words. “Like you wanna eat it or snort it like drugs or get it injected into your brain or something?”

She giggled. “Yeah….”

“Looking at beautiful men is like that for me. I get the urge to kiss them. And in the past I’ve not tried to stop my body when it happens. just kiss them.”

She thought she understood what he meant, but she wasn’t entirely sure. It made sense to her in theory. But it wasn’t exactly relatable. “A-and with the boys?”

“Obviously I think they’re beautiful people. But there’s the added element of, like, An expression of affection. Also the element of it being a subversive joke. So it’s more complicated than ‘oh god, I could kiss you….so, I will.’ You know?”

Matty watched her face, smiling to himself at her beauty, and looking on as she took his words in and let them sink in.

“Have you ever- like- had sex with men?”

“Nope.”

“Have you ever, uhh, wanted to?” She swallowed, finally turning around to face him.

“Nope.”

Their eyes met as he replied and he swore he saw a glimpse of disappointment, and he wanted to know why. To reassure her. To make the disappointment go away. but, restraining himself, he let it go for now.

“So, it’s visceral but not sexual, for you?”

He nodded, his eyes remaining on her.

“A-and, umm…you identify as straight?” Her tone more surprised than she’d intended.

“Yeah, I do.”

“You don’t find that weird? I mean….I don’t know any straight men who occasionally kiss other men but don’t wanna have sex with them.”

Matty laughed, sitting up and folding his knees. “I’m sure they exist. I mean…I do.” He was quiet for a moment, bringing his knees closer to his chest and hugging them. “I like women. I wanna fuck women. And, I have no desire to fuck men. Is that- I guess that’s straight enough?” He he leaned in so that his chest was right up against his knees, resting his cheek at his bent legs.

She sat up, crossing her legs and facing him.

He spoke again when she made no effort to interject. “I suppose- look; this is how I see it. I don’t feel sexually attracted to men. As a man of privilege, it’s important to me not to appropriate a label by calling myself bi, or whatever. So, it just seems right to say I’m straight. But- like…fuck it. Doesn’t matter in the end, does it?”

“How could it not!” She leaned forward, causing him to unfold himself and straighten his legs back down. her visceral response surprised both of them.

Matty was taken aback. Unsure how to justify his nonchalance. He’d never given it any thought. He’d never had to. “Why are you asking, anyway?”

“You- you don’t think labels are important? Especially, like, if you’re not straight?”

Matty laughed, shrugging, “I don’t know. Doesn’t feel like a big thing. Haven’t you ever looked at a woman and thought ‘wow, she’s beautiful’ ?”

Matty’s heart sank as he watched the expression on her face shift dramatically. She looked alarmed. Like he’d walked in on her unexpectedly, like she’d walked into a room, not expecting to find him in. Like he’d startled or shaken something within her.

He could see, in her tense body, and avoidant gaze, in her sudden restlessness, that the silence was making her uncomfortable. Perhaps he’d asked the wrong question. But now that it was out there, there was no way of taking it back.

“Look,” he spoke cautiously, attempting to fill the silence and ease her discomfort. “I don’t think labels are all that important. I just also don’t think I’m gay. Or- bisexual. Or whatever you wanna call it. I’ve been me for 34 years, I’ve kissed men and I’ve kissed women, I feel like I’m pretty heterosexual. But, even if I’m not, I’m not like bothered about what the right word for who or what I am, is. Im not sure that it matters as much as the feelings themselves. And I know how I feel.”

“Well” she shrugged, “I- don’t.” She looked down at the floor, feeling a lump in her throat and tears in the corners of her eyes.

Matty responded instantly by reaching an arm out and pulling her towards him. “That’s okay,” he cooed, dragging her to sit her in the space between his legs. With her back pressed to his chest, and his arms wrapped around her, she felt the warmth of his body radiate into hers.

Several moments of silence had passed between them. With matty occasionally squeezing her gently. She was glad for the gesture. It felt calming. To her body at least. Though she suspected nothing would calm the storm of questions and thoughts inside her mind.

“It’s okay not to know how you feel. It’s okay not to subscribe to a particular label.” He reiterated, unsure of how else to convey that message to her. Saying it again and again seemed the only way.

“You only say that because you’re….this rich white musician guy.”

Behind her, matty frowned. “What do you mean?”

She sighed, taking a breath. “You always talk about how you learned that being gay or queer is fine because, at a pretty young age, your parents, as actors, were surrounded by all sorts of people, some of whom were gay and stuff, right?”

“Mhm,” he nodded with his arms around her, rocking her body along with his. she felt his nod in her spine.

“And that’s great, Matty. Don’t get me wrong. But- not being assed about labels is a privilege. You only feel so okay with it cuz of the way that you grew up. That’s not how everyone feels!”

She paused, feeling herself get worked up again, she looked up at him for a moment, then decided the eye contact was a little more than what she was ready for. “For some people, especially people who grew up in homophobic environments, a label is important. Being able to say that they’re not straight is important. Also, like, it provides a sense of community and belonging and stuff.” She exhaled audibly. “I’m just saying labels can be freeing, do you get that?”

Matty kissed the top of her head sweetly, rubbing his face into her hair. “Yeah... guess I hadn’t thought about it quite that way. But- yeah. I get that. I respect that. I just-“ he hesitated for a moment, mumbling “doesn’t matter what I think,” under his breath. “It’s sort of like- I mean, I guess some people care- but like why?- maybe I just don’t get it. Anyway….”

“No, no, tell me!” She tugged on the ends of his sleeve like a nagging child.

“Well,” he clicked his tongue, considering his words carefully before deciding that sterile language was the literal opposite of what he was trying to say, “sexuality’s a spectrum anyway, isn’t it?”

“Like….like the Kinsey Scale?”

“Sure, whatever.” He laughed. “Or a grid. Or whatever the fuck the new metaphor is. Take your pick of theorists….that’s not really my point- the point is, labels aren’t really going to work for everyone all the time cuz…people fall differently on the spectrum. I’m not- I don’t mean to abstract it into an academic subject cuz- never mind.”

She was familiar with this trait of his. When his mind worked at a different speed than his tongue, and when he tried, despite the burst of passion and the tangents spiraling into rabbit holes in his head, to be thoughtful about his responses, he tended to lose himself. She also knew that if she remained quiet for a moment, he’d try again.

“Labels don’t mean that your experience of your sexuality has to be identical to that of others who identify with that label….is what I’m trying to say.” He sounded satisfied, glad to have successfully condensed his thought into a communicable sentence.

“But- then how am I supposed to know what I identify as?” She squeezed one of the hands that was around her waist, prompting him to lean forward and kiss her cheek.

“Well- not sure I have an answer for that, Darlin.’” He thought for a moment, “hold on- are we- are we saying you don’t know if you’re attracted to men? Like is that what you’re unsure about?”

She laughed, “oh, I’m attracted to men….I just think I might also be attracted to women.”

“I see”

“Not in a- you way. In a ‘I think women are hot and imaging having sex with them’ kinda way. Maybe. I think.”

“Okay, okay…” Matty nodded slowly. “So- like, do you think maybe you’re bisexual? I mean, does that feel right to you? Sorry, I just- I’m trying to think of a way to, like, talk about labels as identities…not just labels. I don’t quite know how.”

She glanced down at the middle of her waist where his hands met, feeling herself well up again. “It’s just- I mean- how could I claim to be bisexual if I’ve never actually been with another woman? Doesn’t that sound fake and queerbaiting to you?”

Her question hung in the air between them as moments passed. When he didn’t instantly reject the idea, the way matty always did when he thought something was ridiculous, scuffing, rolling his eyes, responding with a dismissive “oh fuck off!” her nerves set in. It meant he was actually thinking about it. The thought scared her. She waited for him to say “yes, actually. That does sound wrong” she waited for him to confirm her fears, to tell her that her need to queerbait was some kind of sick attention-seeking behavior and she needed help.

Matty’s right hand left her waist, grabbing her hand and intertwining it with his. “Okay…..umm, I don’t ask this lightly at all, okay? Just know that I’m not being cavalier here….but umm- is this you saying that- that you would like to break up so that you could date women? To….like…I don’t know what the right words are here. Like; explore how you feel? Figure out what you’re comfortable with? I don’t know…” he gasped for air, breathless, stumbling over his words. “Try sex with women?” He shook his head “doesn’t sound right. I don’t mean it like it’s some kind of choice you can opt into or out of just to do a test run. But- like- I could see you wanting to figure this out without the monogamous commitment of a relationship. I’m sorry, I’m not saying the right-“

“Matty, Matty, Matty…hey, look at me.” She turned around to face him. Her free hand cupping his face gently. “I don’t wanna break up. I love you. I wanna be with you. I’d die if we broke up.”

He smiled, reassurance helping him regain his calmness. “Are you sure?” She saw a flash of light across his eyes and knew what he was going to say next. “Cuz… take it from me, sex with women is pretty fucking great.”

She chuckled, shaking her head.

“Seriously, though, it’s not about who you’re with. It’s about who you are. How you feel.”

“I know, it just- feels like I- don’t have the experience to justify myself.”

Matty felt her tense up against him. He also felt the urge to immediately dispel that idea from her mind. Help her feel comfortable in who she is. Show her that all he wants is for her to be herself. But he he held back. Reminding himself that this is not the same thing as her being sad or sick or stressed. This is not something that he can fix for her. And certain not overnight.

“I don’t- know how to say the right things. But if you ask me? You don’t have to perform your sexuality. You don’t have to dress a certain way, you don’t have to behave a certain way, and you don’t have to sleep with a certain number of women to earn the right to call yourself bisexual. You CAN if you want to do those things. If it helps you to connect with your identity. Feel more like yourself. But you don’t HAVE to. It’s not something you have to earn. It’s not a membership. It doesn’t expire if you don’t do it for a while.”

He could feel her hold in her laugh. Relieved to have broken through to her, he carried on. “ it doesn’t matter what people think. If someone thinks you’re less of a bisexual just cuz-“ he rolled his eyes, “ honestly, so fuckin what? Cry me a river, bro. ‘Oh, you don’t like how I identify sexually? It’s a good thing I never fuckin asked you, then.’ You know what I mean?”

“Hmm.” He listened, thinking about it in silence for a moment. “So….you’re saying…. I should say I’m bi?” She looked up at him.

“Well, you know, as a straight guy, I’m the designated bisexual people speaker and I grant you permission to do so.”

They both laughed.

“For real, though. Not to be woke or whatever….not my place to say. but it does feel like, all you need to be bi is to….be bi.”

She turned back around, resting her back against his chest again.

“Look, I may not be bisexual, but I do know some pretty cool people who are. A couple of them might even be cool talking to you about this. If you’d like me to, like, ask…? Maybe that would help?”

She whipped her head around “You’d really do that?” Her face smiling up at him.

“For that smile? Fuck yeah.” He kissed her lips pulling away only to add. “I love you. No matter who you are. What you identify as. How you choose to express yourself. I love you.” He kissed her again. “Always will.”

“Please shut up and stop interrupting. I’m tryna make out here.”

#matty healy fic #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction

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7-wonders · 1 year

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Can I request a Morpheus x reader fic where reader is really tired, but she ignores it and keeps doing what she has to do, even though she feels overwhelmed. Morpheus knows from her dreams how she's feeling, he feels bad cause she didn't tell him anything, so he decides to ask her and surprisingly, she breaks down, telling him everything. He listens and reassures her, telling she doesn't have to fake emotions with him, he loves her anyways. Thank you <3

It’s been a long couple of weeks, and life seems to really enjoy just kicking you in the ass. Be it at work, where your boss continues to chastise you for problems that are not your doing (really, how is it your fault the internet went down for an hour yesterday?), or the deluge of school projects and deadlines that are all coming at you in a short amount of time, or even just petty drama within your friend group. It’s stressing you out to be so busy, but is life not just a series of periods so busy that you think you might be losing your mind?

You’ve been able to find absolutely no respite, not even in sleep. This, you know, will soon become a problem, thanks to the fact that you’re somehow in a relationship with the Dreamlord. Your dreams have been just as stressful as your waking life, actually nightmares about failing at all of the tasks you’re working so hard on, and they’re almost always fitful to the point where you’re not even asleep long enough to recognize you’re in the Dreaming and will yourself to the Dreaming proper before you’re waking up with a jolt and staring in resignation up at your ceiling. He’s going to find out, it’s a matter of when, not if, so you’re hoping you can somehow be faster and magically finish all these stressful tasks before he decides to look into why you haven’t visited him in the Dreaming lately.

That plan is almost immediately derailed by the essay you’re currently stuck writing. By stuck, you mean that you have absolutely no idea of how to finish it. It’s a longer assignment, 10 pages, and though you have about half of it written and know the topic and how you had set out to complete this assignment, it’s suddenly as though you’ve forgotten everything you knew about writing. For almost an hour now, you’ve been stuck staring at the cursor as it blinks mockingly at you, daring you to try and write something, anything, that will make sense.

(Jeez, maybe you really do need a break if inanimate objects are starting to pick fights with you. Narrowing your eyes at the offending computer pixels, your hands hover over the keyboard and you decide that, actually, the best revenge is to make this bitch work overtime as you whip out the rest of this essay.)

When you feel a pair of large hands settle on your shoulders, you don’t even flinch, too focused on finishing typing the paragraph to even summon enough energy to be surprised. Plus, by now you just seem to innately know when Morpheus appears in your general vicinity, and this also takes away from the element of surprise he used to possess when you first began becoming involved with the King of Dreams.

After you’ve completed your sentence, you tilt your head backwards in order to properly look upside-down at Morpheus, who’s already smiling at your antics.

“Hi,” you greet.

“Hello.” He leans down to kiss you, before spinning your chair around so that you’re actually facing him. “You look tired.”

You huff out a laugh. “I’ve been tired for, like, a week now.”

“Your absence has been keenly felt by my realm’s denizens.”

With a raised eyebrow, you ask, “Just your denizens?”

“No being has missed you more than I,” he says with a smirk.

“That’s better.”

Gently, Morpheus tugs you up from your chair. “I believe that you deserve a break.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

He just smiles in response (his smiles, of course, are fleeting and barely there, but you know how to spot them by now that you almost never miss them) and walks with you to your bed. Normally, when he’s spending too much time trying to get one of his new creations just right or when he’s too stuck on research and running himself ragged, convincing him to take a break is your specialty. You should protest this and insist that you need to finish your assignment first, but it’s almost impossible to say no to your beloved. Really, now you see why he gives in almost every time you pull this move on him.

When Morpheus does get you on your bed, he sits right next to you so your thigh is touching his. He’s so touch-starved that it would be almost endearing if you didn’t know the reason why. Instead, every time he has to be touching you, you just wish that Roderick Burgess was still alive so that you could beat him to death for what he did to Morpheus.

“If I have the wrong impression, feel free to say so.” Morpheus makes sure that you’re making eye contact with him, and you know that you’re screwed. “Are you alright, though?”

You were going to reassure him that everything was fine and that you could handle it, really, you were. And then he just has to go and cup your cheek with his hand and rub his thumb along the soft skin under your eye, and that ruins everything. The moment that he does that, you break and feel tears begin to spill down your face, which surprises you just as much as it surprises Morpheus.

“Y’know what, I don’t think I’m completely alright,” you admit through your sudden outburst of emotion. When Morpheus wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, your cries turn to sobs.

Sure, you know you’ve been stressed, but you didn’t think that it was “verge-of-a-mental-breakdown” stressed! Apparently, you were completely and utterly wrong, and now you’re facing the mortifying ordeal of being known in one of the most vulnerable ways that a human can be known.

One of the nice things about Morpheus is that he doesn’t try to fill any silences by talking or trying to distract you. Instead, he simply lets you cry it out. And cry you do, probably ruining his shirt–made out of the finest dreamstuff, of course–with all of your tears. You’ll worry about that later, though, when you don’t feel like your chest is caving in from crying.

When you finally feel like you can breathe, which is an indeterminate amount of time later, you pull yourself away from Morpheus’s chest and wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. You feel Morpheus push something into your other hand, and you look down to see he’s produced an actual handkerchief from out of thin air. Regardless of your continuing awe at the things he’s able to do, you take it from him.

“Thanks,” you say hoarsely, using the soft cloth now instead of your shirt.

Morpheus allows you to collect yourself, rubbing his hand up and down your back and making sure that your breathing slows down to match his. Morpheus, of course, doesn’t actually need to breathe, but he’s currently doing so simply so that you have something to focus on. God, you love him so much.

Finally, you think you can form a full sentence without crying again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I really didn’t think I was at the level of stressed where I start crying.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Morpheus says firmly, leaving no room for discussion. “Why did you not tell me you were feeling this way?”

You scoff. “What, like I’m gonna bother you with my silly little human problems? Tell you that I’m stressed because of work and school and my friends? You have better things to worry about than that.”

“There is nothing more important to me than you. Not my power, nor my realm, nor my station–nothing. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”

“Why?”

“I could sense the nature of your dreams, and the way that you kept waking up throughout the night. I assumed, however, that you would come to me first with your problems and that I would not have to seek you out.”

“So you forgot that stubbornness is one of my most endearing traits,” you say sheepishly. You had that very thought, that you should talk to Morpheus about how stressful your dreams were, but then talked yourself out of it due to believing he had better things to do than deal with one human’s dreams.

“Yes. My mistake.” The dryness of his tone makes you laugh a bit, and the relief on Morpheus’s face is palpable. “My love, you need not hide your worries from me.”

“I wasn’t trying to do so on purpose, I just…thought I could handle it myself.”

“Is it not part of a relationship that we both support and take care of each other?”

You nod begrudgingly. “It is.”

“You take care of me so ardently, in a way that nobody ever has before.” He brings his forehead to yours, sitting with you for a moment before he pulls back just enough to look at you again. When another tear escapes from your eye, he’s quick to meet it with his lips. “Won’t you allow me to return your kindness?”

“If you think you can handle it, then sure.” You’re still feeling a little self-deprecating, which, by the pout on his face, it’s obvious Morpheus doesn’t appreciate it.

“Caring for you is the easiest and most natural thing I’ve ever done.”

It’s obvious that he’s going to take you to the Dreaming, but you can’t help casting a helpless glance at your laptop, still sitting open on your desk. “I really need to finish my essay first.”

“No, what you need is to rest and relax, both of which you shall do in my realm. Your schoolwork will still be here when you return.”

“What if I just write, like, one more paragraph?” you try to barter.

Morpheus remains unimpressed. “If you’d prefer me to use force to get you to the Dreaming, I certainly can.”

“No, I don’t have the energy to put up a worthy fight.” With that admission, you have no choice but to let him lift you up into his arms so that he can take you with him to the Dreaming.

Plus, the more that you think about being pampered by your ethereally attractive, devoted, eldritch nightmare king of a boyfriend, the less that homework seems important. Not that you’re going to let him know that, though.

#morpheus #morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman imagine

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