#apparently i live in a shithole............. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phoward89 · 2 months

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Happy (late) 420! I tried to get this out yesterday, but that didn't happen. Anyways, here's some Dealer!Coryo x Reader in honor of 420.

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, slight degradation?, um that's bout it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1:

“Your brother's drunk again?” Coryo, your weed dealer and fuck buddy, asked as he flung the door to his section 8 apartment open as soon as he saw you thru the peephole.

He knew what was wrong with you just by the sullen look on your face. Anytime you had that look on your face it was because your brother was either drunk and fighting with you or your ex (who Coryo nearly beat to death after the last time he cheated on you- which if you ask the dealer shouldn't have happened cause only a fucking idiot would stick their cock in a skeezy cunt when they've got your perfect, tight cunt to fuck on the regular) did something (like cheat) to upset you.

After getting beat within an inch of his life, your ex skipped town. Rumor has it that he went to California. So, Coriolanus knows that there's only one reason you're on his doorstep looking like an anxious mess: your brother, Rein.

“Yep.” You popped your tongue.

“Come in.” Coriolanus ordered, moving aside to make room for you to enter his shithole. As you walked by him and into the apartment that smells heavily of cigarettes, weed, incense, and rose scented glade plug-ins, your favorite drug dealer announced with a lopsided smirk, “I was just ‘bout to roll a joint.”, while shutting and bolting the door.

“It's been a while since I smoked. I could use a few hits to calm down.” You admitted, making a beeline to the lumpy couch and in extension the glass coffee table nestled right in front of it.

A glass coffee table with chipped corners that was cluttered so much that the glass could barely be seen. It was a cluttered mess of magazines, rolling papers, plastic sandwich baggies, large bags of weed, a scale, a few empty beer bottles, an empty chip bag, a red solo cup, zippo, and a cheap ashtray.

Sometimes you wonder about Coryo, who could be a dead ringer for Eminem. Hell, his looks got him the nickname of Paneminem. You know, cause he's the Slim Shady of your small bumfuck Colorado town of Panem.

A town that both you and Coriolanus Snow, known to a very small select few as Coryo, hate with a passion.

But, anyways, sometimes you wonder about the dealer with the platinum buzzcut (which you were shocked to find out was his natural hair color) that lives alone. He doesn't have a lot of friends and the only family he's got is a cousin, Tigris, that's a stripper at Pluribus’ club. But they had some kind of falling out after he got a dishonorable discharge from the army and barely talk anymore.

And you only know about Tigris and his brief stint in the military cause you curiously asked him about his dog tags, chewing on the corner of them during a half-high afterglow while cuddling with him.

“What dumb shit did Rein do this time, baby girl?” The hardened drug dealer asked, following you over to the sofa. A sofa that has a board under it to level and prop up the saggy seat cushions.

“He’s pissed that I got laid off and can't find another job.” You told Coryo as the two of you sat down on the couch, making it dip under your combined weight.

“So, does that mean you're gonna start helping your favorite dealer sling shit for cash?” Coriolanus slightly chuckled, slipping his hand underneath the hem of his oversized white T-shirt and pulling his gun out of the waistband of his baggy jeans; placing it down on the coffee table.

You've seen the black Glock so many times, gosh it must be at least 50 by now, since you started buying weed and hooking up with Coryo. Him handling the weapon around you doesn't even phase you anymore. It should. It really should, especially since you weren't raised around guns or violence- but apparently the more time you spend around Snow (Coryo's surname and one of his street names- the other being Snowball) the more you're being corrupted by him.

Unknown to you, Coryo doesn't want you to become corrupted by him. He thinks you're a really sweet girl that had some shit luck of being abandoned by your mom and raised hovering above the poverty line by your much older half-brother and his girlfriend. Despite your crappy conditions, you’re as sweet as honey. Or at least to Coriolanus you are.

For some reason, the hardened drug dealer that's a couple of years older than you wants to keep you safe from any and all dangers in the world. Hell, Snow's not supposed to have feelings for you, a girl that occasionally buys weed from him; comes over to his place to vent about her life, but he does.

And that's not good because feelings are dangerous in his world. The drug underworld. The side of town, hell life, that decent people don't see.

Coryo's got people that would love to put a bullet in him; the cops also want to lock him up for at least half his life too. Having you around him so much, getting wrapped up in shit isn't good at all. It's not good for you or for him. It'll only end up bad and in heartbreak.

And Snow can't have that. Oh, he has to protect you from his world. The world of drugs and all other illicit activities that transpire in the criminal underworld. You're just too sweet to have as a permanent fixture in his life, which is why he doesn't hang with you unless you're buying weed from him. He won't actively seek you out, despite the fact that you always bring a smile to face and warm his cold, black, dead, frostbitten heart.

“Coryo, you're my only dealer.” You dryly remind him, watching as he perches on the edge of his couch; leaning forward to grab the items he needs from his chipped coffee table to roll the joint with. “And no, I'm not gonna help you deal.”

“Only dealer, favorite dealer: same thing from how I look at it.” Coriolanus retorts while his long fingers nimbly work to fill and roll a joint for the two of you to share. “It was a joke, baby. I wasn't serious.” Your dealer dryly told you before giving out a lecture of, “My line of work’s dangerous, babe. I'd never send you out into that shit just to make a buck.” Waggling a long weed scented finger in your face, he added in, “And I would've fucked some goddamn sense into you if you’d agreed to my fake offer.”

You’re not stupid, you know that Coryo’s not just a weed dealer, but that he sells some hard shit and it makes his job- hell his life- dangerous. But you don't care. You accept him as he is. You're not trying to fix him; you're fine with him the way he is. You're also fine with being his customer/sorta friends with benefits.

You know that Coryo has a lockbox full of various pills and coke that he deals. The box is shoved in the side table, that looks like a weird ass octagon, caddy cornered between his sofa and a heavily duct taped easy chair. You saw it once when you were over, crying about being cheated on by your ex and needing some weed (and maybe some big dick) pronto to make you feel better and calm you down.

Coryo had a customer he needed to meet and sell some powder to, so he prepared the crap right in front of you. After cutting the white powder finely with a credit card (that you're sure he stole from somebody) and portioning it up in a baggie, he made you swear to never touch the hard shit. He even said that he'd shoot whoever dares to give you the shit right between the eyes if he ever found out that you dabbled in the hard shit.

And then he sent you on your way with a few joints and a promise that he'd stop by to check up on you; see if you need anymore post getting cheated on weed to help feel better with. He kept good on that promise, he stopped by and took you out for a ride. A ride that ended with you desperately riding his cock in the backseat of his car- which was parked in some alleyway in a seedy part of town.

“Calm down, Coryo. God, don’t pop a vein over there.” You sarcastically tell the platinum blonde while he finishes rolling the joint. Watching him pick up his zippo off the table, you assure him.“You don't need to worry about me being in danger from the big bag drug dealers; I'll only make my money legally.”

“Y/N…” Snow mumbled warningly, slipping the joint between his lush lips and lighting up. Taking his first hit, he sighs, “The more you hang ‘round here, baby girl, the more you might be putting your sweet lil ass in danger.”

“I’m a big girl, Snowball. I can take care of myself, plus I trust you and know that you'd never hurt me.” You said, watching him take his second hit.

Passing the joint over to you, he dead ass says, “I got enemies; if they think we're a thing they'll fuck you up to get to me.” Shaking his head, he leans his elbows on his knees (of course he was manspreading- he always does when sitting on the sofa). “Cops would haul you in; jam you up just to try and catch my ass.”

Your brows furrow at his words. At their implications.

“So, what, you don't want me coming ‘round anymore?” You asked, brushing your fingertips against his rough, calloused ones as you took the joint from him. “Want me to find somebody new to buy weed from?” You took your first hit, coughing slightly. “Maybe I'll drive a couple hours to Denver and buy from a regulated dealer: from the man.” You threatened, taking your second hit and passing the joint to the broad shouldered man next to you.

“You're not driving down there for weed. You hear me?” Coryo sternly ordered before taking a deep hit off the joint.

“Then don't say you don't want me around, Coryo.” You countered, watching your dealer sexily blow a large billowing cloud of smoke from his perfect O shaped mouth.

“I didn't say that, babe.” Coryo snapped, his voice a bit hoarse from smoking weed all day (or at least you think he's been smoking all day). “I don't wanna have a heavy talk while smoking. Let's table this for now, yea?” He told you before taking a second, even longer hit from the joint perfectly pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yea, my life's stressful enough.” You agreed, taking the offered joint from Coriolanus as soon as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.

Coryo didn't say a word, just leaned back into his couch and snaked an arm to rest behind you. He gave you a lazy thin lipped smile as you took your hit. His icy eyes, usually void of emotions, were shinning with fondness as he watched you instead of whatever bullshit was on his tv.

A very nice large flatscreen that somebody gave him for payment. Fuck, the damn thing was worth nearly a grand since it was some top of the line Samsung smart tv. Snow knew it must've fallen out the back of a truck, but he didn't give a shit. Meant he didn't have to use he crappy tablet to watch stuff anymore.

But instead of watching tv, his attention was on you. God, Coriolanus loves watching you smoke. He thinks you're so sexy when you smoke. This cute, lil sweetheart taking in a large burning lungful and letting it waft out of your mouth expertly.

It turned him on.

“It's not polite to stare, Coryo.” You remind the menacing man next to you, your tone a bit teasing, while passing him the joint after finishing your hits.

“I'm not staring, so don't know what your talking about.” He firmly denied, acting like he wasn't just caught ogling your gloss coated lips, while taking the joint.

You're starting to feel a bit hazy from the weed, unlike Coryo you don't smoke around the clock so a few hits mellows you out quickly, and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Your such a fucking lightweight.” The platinum blonde chuckles, shaking his head with a hint of an taunting smirk on his lips.

“Not everyone can smoke and fuck all day, Snowball.”

“I don't smoke and fuck all day. I'll let you know that if I don't sling my shit then I ain't making any bank.” Coryo sneered, sounding a bit insulted by your remark, before taking a quick hit and holding the joint out to you.

Your fingertips brush over his, sending shockwaves through both of your buzzed bodies, as you take his offering. “You know, I'm still having a dry spell.” You reluctantly sigh between taking your two puffs and passing him back the joint.

Coryo's not stupid, he knows why you've been having problems finding somebody to hookup with let alone date. Word on the street is that he's sweet on you. That you’re Snowball's baby. Or at least Plinth and Creed, his only friends that are also dealers, told him that's the word.

Been the word since somebody saw you and him at some house party few weeks back- disappearing into a bathroom together for a good 15 minutes or so (yea, long enough to fuck).

“Maybe I can do something ‘bout it then, yea?”

“Maybe.” You coyly shrugged.

Even tho both you and Coryo knew that as soon as the joint turned into a roach; was snubbed into the ash trash, you'd be making out and undressing each other on his sofa.

“Hmmm…Coryo, that feels so good…” You loudly moan, feeling your cunt twitch and grow wetter, as you ride Coryo's cock.

Coryo's sucking on one of your titties while roughly squeezing the other in his large, calloused hand. His other hand is holding onto your ass like it's the most prized jewel into the entire world.

“God, Coryo, I needed your cock so bad.” You admit to him, your voice nothing more than a pathetic mewl, as your wrap your arms around his neck- one hand pressing into the back of his platinum buzzcut while the other holds the back of his neck- while you leverage yourself to bounce faster on his dick.

His cock, very long and thick with veins that catch every velvety piece of your walls, fills your cunt up perfectly; turns you into a whinny mess. His tip hits against your cervix, causing the coil to begin to tighten inside of your lower body with every move. And the way his cock presses into your g-spot just right- oh fuck he's completely ruined you for men.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you're addicted to Coryo's cock. He's the only man that can fuck you just right. God, you would be all hot and bothered over your dealer.

Your nipple falls from Coryo's mouth with a loud, wet pop. He looks up at you, baby blues smoldering midnight with lust, and slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby. Ride my cock, ride my cock like the lil slut you are.” His hand slides over your chest, leaving one tit and going to kneed the other, as he lands two quick slaps to your ass. “Baby, your cunt feels so tight and good. Ride me, baby, ride me.”

“Fuck…Coryo…think I'm gonna cum.” You breathing tell him, forehead pressing down against his; hair curtains around your faces, as you grind your hips faster against his.

“Yea?” He asks, his voice heavy from lust and hoarse from smoking weed, as he places his hands on either of your hips. “Hold on, baby. I'll make ya cum.” Coryo tilts his chin up, sloppily kissing you, before digging his fingers into the meat of your hips and thrusting fast and hard up into you.

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling your insides literally getting rearranged, as Coriolanus’ cock plunges deep inside of you. Deeper then you’ve ever felt it before (and that's saying something since the man’s cock always leaves an imprint in your lower stomach everytime you fuck) and it's making you see stars.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around Coryo's neck in a vice grip as he pounds up into your cunt at such a strong, punishing pace. He's fucking you so hard and good that you can feel the rubber band inside of you get ready to snap. “Coryo…I'm gonna cum.”

“Cum, baby. Be my good lil slut and cum on my cock.” Coryo orders, his baritone rough and raw, as he presses you against his chest while bucking his hips at lightning speed.

And you do. You cum hard, moaning a string of curses mixed with Coryo's name, before leaning limply against him and panting to catch your breath. Your head's pressed into the crook of his neck and he's now holding holding your back to keep you afloat while chasing his own high. Coryo pistons his cock in and out of you quickly before groaning a couple fucks and your name while shooting his hot load of thick pearly ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

“Damn…” Coryo trailed off, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Your head's still resting in the crook of his neck as you unwrap one of your arms from around his neck. Running your hand up and down his toned chest, you blurt out, “I'm hungry.”

“Of course, you get the munchies now.” Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. “I got some pizza rolls in the freezer, I'll nuke us some in a lil bit. Okay, babe?” He offered while trying to enjoy his blazed out afterglow moment with you.

Honestly, he just wanted you to cockwarm him for a while because he didn't know when you'd be in that position again.

And Coryo knows that he's going to have to cut you loose eventually. You're a liability in his line of work. Snow, the cold hearted drug dealer that doesn't think twice about popping a cap in somebody's ass, has a soft spot for you. Hell, to be honest he cares for you.

He cares a lot.

And that's dangerous. Feelings are a weakness that he can't afford in his life. The thought of you being used against him makes him sick.

And Coriolanus will never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him.

He knows that he'll have to cut you loose soon. Put his combat boot covered foot down; lay down some rules for the two of you to abide by. Something like he'll drop your weed off at your house then leave type of deal.

But right now, for a few minutes, he just wants to bask in your warmth.

And for right now, you're Snowball's baby.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months

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Kinktober day 7

Mickey Milkovich + Wrestling or sparring

Still been studying, thanks to my teacher giving us twice as much work than usual, so this isn’t as long as I would have wanted.

I have no idea what warning to put for Mickey talking and thinking the way he does, but mickey warning I guess??

kinktober 2023 masterlist

Mickey Milkovich wasn’t the type to go down without a fight, it laid deep in his blood to never go down, and if he did, to go down swinging. Even just playfighting always lead to real scuffling or outright fighting resulting in bloody noses or knocked out teeth. Apparently, he had anger issues, and they always seemed to flare right up when someone got him swinging. It was why he found himself in some less than stellar gym in the south side, run by some gay guy and his friends.

Everyone knew about the gym’s main owner, (Y/N), his family had lived in the south side as long as anyone else’s, were mixed up in the same stuff as everyone else, and got into trouble like everyone else. Only difference about this guy was that he was openly gay, and would knock anyone out cold if they tried to target him for it. Mickey had found him at the ends of his fists a couple of times, and had always woken up with the sickest migraines, maybe even concussions, though he had never gone to the hospital about it.

(Y/N) had left the south side for a while, apparently he was off to get an education on a scholarship, but strangely enough he had returned to the shithole that was the south side. No one had recognized him as first. He left as a skinny guy who packed an insanely mean left and right hook, and came back packed in muscle and taller, with a confidence that few saw in gay guys in the south side. His muscles weren’t for show either, as rumors quickly spread that his hits were not only harder but quicker than ever.

Then he had opened up a gym for anyone who wasn’t gonna start trouble, and if you did start trouble, he took care of you real quick and efficiently. He had quirked a brow as Mickey stepped into the gym, but like he never questioned the local gun dealer being there, he wasn’t gonna question a milkovich being there as long as he paid. Mickey went about his business, taking out some of his burning anger on the punching bags, trying to put all the hatred and anger in his soul into those punches.

Mickey almost swung around and knocked (Y/N)s teeth out when the taller guy had placed his hand on Mickeys shoulder. “You’re standing all wrong, you’ll mess up your shoulders” he explained, his strong hands grabbing Mickeys arms and pulling him into the better pose.

Mickey wasn’t gonna ever admit that he felt warmth rise to his cheeks as (Y/N) grabbed him and moved him around, it was just cuz the guy was eyecandy around the south side. Few guys cared about their appearance around this part, so seeing a guy who actually bathed on the regular and walked around in tight tank tops always caught Mickeys attention. If Mickey wasn’t the type to deny himself so much, he might have seen how his appreciating stares were returned.

One night when Mickey showed up to the gym, a time where there were never anyone around but the owner, he had been stewing in anger. The punching bags just didn’t seem to be enough, even as Mickey cursed and made his knuckles bleed. (Y/N) had sauntered up in that tight tank top and a pair of sweats that left little to the imagination and goaded Mickey into a spar in the wrestling part of the gym.

In reality it was just some mats laid on the floor and against the walls, no way a place like this could afford an actually wresting ring, but it was good enough. Good enough for Mickey to charge at the guy, his normal south side approach foiled by (Y/N)s actual talent for fighting. Mickey only grew more and more angry the more he kept losing, even as his muscles ached and burned, even as he found himself pinned over and over against the mats.

Mickey growled at the smile on (Y/N)s lips, the guy had been smiling the entire time, and though he was sweating and breathing harder, it was in no way as much as Mickey himself. Even as Mickeys moves grew sloppy as he felt exhaustion creep up on him, his pride wouldn’t let him just give up or call quits.

(Y/N) must have felt some pity, as he finally let Mickey pin him, Mickey crouched above his head, pinning his shoulders with his legs and holding the taller man’s arms above his head. “Good job Mick, you finally got it” he laughed, looking almost too pleased as Mickey panted above him. “That deserves a reward, right?” he almost purred, and before Mickey could question it, (Y/N) had freed his hands and reached up towards the waistband on Mickeys pants.

Mickey choked on his breath as (Y/N) dragged his pants down, freeing Mickeys half hard length to the heated air of the gym. The sparring must have gotten the blood pumping in Mickeys system, and he shivered. On instinct alone Mickey almost jumped to his feet and spat some homophobic comment, but before he could warm lips wrapped around his tip and sucked him down, a broken gasp slipping from Mickeys lips at the action.

(Y/N)s hands gripped Mickeys hips as he lifted his torso to keep bopping his head, taking Mickey down his throat with skill one only got from repeating an action many times. Mickey gripped onto (Y/N)s hair as he thrust his hips with little to no rhythm, panting from the strain in his muscles and the pleasurable feeling as he grew fully hard, his toes curling in his shoes as he shivered.

Mickey groaned as he spilled down (Y/N)s throat, his muscles finally giving out, and if it wasn’t for (Y/N) catching him, he would have tumbled down onto the mats beneath them. Mickey didn’t even notice the murmured praise leaving the taller man, even as he tucked Mickeys spent length back into his pants or rubbed his sore muscles. Mickey didn’t even fully comprehend that he was pulled into what looked like a back room, or that he was placed on a comfortable sofa, or even that he dozed off.

It seemed that the energy that hadn’t been wrung out of him from the wrestling, had been sucked right out of him by the very man that had goaded him into said fight. (Y/N) gave a snort as he watched Mickey become dead to the world, leaving a water bottle beside him before leaving the office to go disinfect the mats. This might be the south side, but he was at least semi professional and serious about his business’s hygiene.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mickey milkovich #shameless #shameless us #Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich #mickey milkovich imagine #mickey milkovich headcanon #mickey milkovich x male reader #mickey milkovich x reader #shameless imagine #shameless headcanon #shameless x male reader #shameless x reader #shameless us imagine #shameless us headcanon #shameless us x male reader #shameless us x reader

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stop-talking · 3 months

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So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 5)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 4k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, lots of fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, masturbating.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

To celebrate a week of sobriety, you decide to surprise Derek with a cake.

Of course, since there isn't exactly a bakery on a remote island, you had to bake it yourself.

Which you did. Last night. Now you stand in the kitchen, wondering how exactly you should decorate the damn thing.

And what to write on it?

"Congrats, maybe now you'll live past 40!" No, that's morbid.

"Bye-bye blunts and blow!" Too cringy.

"Happy one-week?" Hmm... that sounds like an anniversary thing.

Damnit. Maybe this isn't a situation that calls for cake after all. You sigh and continue to mumble random slogans to yourself as you slather the icing on nice and thick.

It looks a little messy, but you're not exactly a professional baker. Which is unfortunate, because that's probably exactly what he's used to. Oh well. It's the thought that counts, right?

You just want to show him how proud you are. He really has changed a lot over the past week, surprising you every day with how... normal he can be. When he wants to, at least.

Picking up a piping bag of green icing, you start placing decorative dollops around the edge of the cake. Some of them are a little lopsided, but it doesn't look too bad overall.

What now? You mindlessly lick some stray icing off your wrist and stare down at the gaping blank space in the middle of the cake.

Eventually, you settle on three words.

"Proud of you."

It's fitting. He has a lot to be proud of. Not just the sobriety stuff, but everything.

He's been picking up new skills every day. You smile as you tidy up the cake decorating mess strewn about the counter, thinking back to your first time cooking with Derek.

He'd been cocky and overconfident, and so utterly dumbfounded when that pancake met a splatter-y death on the stovetop.

And yet, he still got back up and tried again. After relentless pestering from you, obviously, but it still counted.

You stand back and survey your work. Cream colored icing, green lettering, and... okay, maybe the hearts were a bit much. Hopefully he didn't get the wrong idea. You're just... proud. That's all.

Now the only thing missing is Derek. He went upstairs an hour or so ago for a nap, mumbling something about a headache. Poor thing.

He's been so damn clingy lately, always touching you in some way or another. It seemed almost subconscious for him at times. A hand on your shoulder, his knee against yours, an arm around your waist... no matter what you were doing, he had to have physical contact.

You smile as you make your way upstairs to his room. Maybe today would be the day you finally give him a proper hug.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of you calling out his name.

Usually, that would be a welcome sound. You're always such a good distraction from his withdrawals.

But right now? He just wants to sleep. No, more than that. He wants to hibernate, to go into a goddamn coma and never have to wake up again.

"Can I have another twenty minutes?" He croaks, lifting his head from the mess of pillows to call out to you.

Apparently he can't, because he hears the door click open, and you peek your head in through the crack.

Derek just groans and buries his face back into the bed. His sheets and blankets are a tangled mess, and he's twisted himself into an awkward angle throughout his nap.

"Come on, It's been over an hour already." Derek can feel the bed shift as you take a seat on the edge.

"Well I'm still fuckin' exhausted." He mumbles into the pillow, not bothering to turn and look at you.

"Derek. You should know by now I'm not gonna let you rot in bed all day."

The almost sarcastic tone in your voice is what finally breaks him. This week has been hell, and you're just mocking him.

He hasn't only given up drugs this week, but all of his servants and staff as well. It was one thing to help you with cooking, but yesterday you'd made him do laundry. LAUNDRY. What the fuck did he look like? A maid?

"Fuck off." He grumbles a little louder, pushing your hand away as you reach to play with his hair.

His sour attitude apparently doesn't deter you any, because he can hear you laughing at him. Derek grits his teeth and finally sits up, glaring at you.

"You're really fucking annoying, you know that? Always pissing me off."

The words leave his mouth before he can really think them through, and when he sees your smile fall he immediately regrets them.

Unfortunately, he's too tired, sick, and stubborn to take it all back. Even while his heart drops into his stomach, he continues to glare daggers at you.

"Alright... twenty more minutes." With that, you slide off his bed and quickly make your way to the door.

Fuck. As soon as the door closes, Derek is left in darkness, in more ways than one.

His stomach twists into knots and he can feel his chest grow heavy. He tries to scramble after you, but gets caught in the tangle of blankets and ends up falling to the floor instead.

God damn it. Why does he always have to be such a fuck up? You aren't annoying. You're the only thing keeping him sane right now, and he goes and pushes you away.

He collapses on the floor, sighing at the feeling of the cold hardwood against his cheek. A few tears roll down his face, and he laughs bitterly as a thought crosses his mind.

Your thighs make a much better pillow than the floor.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Twenty minutes later, you knock at Derek's door once more. He mumbles something incomprehensible, and you take that as permission to enter.

The sight in front of you makes you pause. What the hell is he doing? You flip the lights on just to make sure your eyes aren't playing tricks on you.

They aren't.

Derek Danforth lies on the floor next to his bed, groaning and blinking up at the harsh overhead light.

"Looks real comfortable down there." You tease, setting the glass of water you brought him on his bedside table before joining him on the floor.

He refuses to look at you, throwing his arm over his eyes and groaning.

"You need to eat. And drink. I brought you some water."

Derek stays quiet as you sit next to him and place a hand on his shoulder. His lips are pressed into a tight line, and he's still hiding behind his arm.

"Why are you so goddamn nice?" He finally groans.

"We've already had that talk."

"Okay, then why are you so goddamn nice even when I'm being a prick?"

You move his arm away from his face, and he doesn't fight it. When you finally get a look at him, it's obvious he's been crying.

Derek Danforth. Crying on his bedroom floor. That's a sight.

A sight that really breaks your heart, actually. His watery eyes threaten to make yours overflow as well, so you quickly wipe away his tears with the hem of your shirt.

"You think I expect you to go through three weeks of rehab and not be a prick sometimes?"

Derek actually chuckles at that, and finally meets your gaze. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know."

You scoot a little closer, and gently tug at him. He takes the hint, placing his head on your lap with his cheek against your thigh.

Neither of you talk for a few minutes. He just closes his eyes and sighs as you play with his hair. Over the past week, you've learned what he likes. Tug at his curls in just the right way, and he...

Derek lets out a soft whimper and you smile. There it is.

"Wanna make it up to me?" You tease.

He glances up at you, an eager look in his eyes.

"How?"

"Get rid of this." You laugh and trail a finger along his jawline, feeling at his overgrown stubble. He most likely hasn't shaved since arriving here a week ago.

"What? You don't like it?"

"Do you?"

"..."

Derek pouts, pushing your hand away and feeling at it himself. His brow furrows adorably as he considers your words.

"It looks manly."

"There's a difference between manly and cave-man-ly."

He scoffs at that, but when you start poking and prodding at his face where his stubble has grown out, he cracks a smile.

"Fine, fine. You win. I'll shave."

He swats your intrusive hands away, then sits up and stretches.

Now that he's up and moving, you decide it's time to go. On your way out the door, you hesitate, remembering the reason you came to get him in the first place.

"Oh, don't take too long. I have a surprise waiting for you downstairs."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, feeling at his stubble. You're right, he does look better with a trim.

He knows he should head downstairs, but his heart is beating a million times a second, and not even from withdrawals.

That little comment about a surprise? God damnit. You're teasing him. You have to be. How could you say something like that and not expect him to get excited?

Derek sighs and tucks his boner into the waistband of his boxers, then looks at himself in the mirror one more time to make sure it isn't noticeable. It's not... mostly.

Damnit. He could probably take a few minutes and rub one out, but he'd absolutely die of embarrassment if you walked in on him AGAIN.

He groans and turns to leave. Oh well. It's hidden well enough, and you'd already seen worse. Plus... maybe if this surprise is anything like his fantasies, he'd have an opportunity to use it.

"Oh, wait wait wait!" You scramble over to him as he trudges downstairs, keeping him from entering the living room.

"Are you gonna tell me what my surprise is?"

"No! Then it wouldn't be a surprise at all. Close your eyes."

Derek does as instructed, shutting his eyes tight. When feels you grab his hand and start to tug him along, he can't help but sneak a peek.

"I swear... if your Idea of a surprise is to walk me into a wall-"

"Oh, shut it." You scoff and clap your free hand over his eyes.

"Just trust me. And no peeking."

Derek grumbles, but he does trust you. A lot more than he lets on. So, he blindly stumbles along as you lead him into the... kitchen? Yeah, he's pretty sure he's in the kitchen.

"Okay, you can look." You uncover his eyes, but keep a tight hold on his hand as you beam at him.

"What do you think?"

What does he think?

Derek chokes up at the sight before him, and has to turn his head so you don't see the way his eyes are watering again.

A cake. You baked him a fucking cake to say you're proud of him. And he called you annoying.

"It's to celebrate being a week sober." You explain, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of his face.

He squeezes your hand tightly, but can't get any words out.

"A week." He whispers, blinking back tears. Fuck, has it been a week already? It feels like hardly a day has passed.

"Oh, love. C'mere."

Derek lets himself be pulled into your arms. He groans from your touch, melting into the embrace and burying his face in your neck.

God, this is perfect. He's wanted to be held like this for so long, but now that it's finally happening... he can't help but feel guilty.

"I'm such an ass." He mumbles into your neck, lips pressed to your skin.

"Not always." You laugh softly and pull him a little closer.

Too close. He can feel your breasts pressing against him... fuck. Any closer and you might be able to feel what he has tucked away.

"Not always?" Derek scoffs, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes.

"Is that really the best you've got to make me feel better?"

"What? You want me to lie?"

"Maybe."

He stares into your eyes, heart pounding in his chest as he suddenly realizes just how close you are. It takes everything in him not to lean in and bridge the few inch gap between the two of you.

"You look nice like this."

Derek can feel his face heating up as you cup his face with a hand. Shit, If you don't stop soon he might actually just kiss you.

"Like what?" He asks breathlessly, mesmerized by your touch.

"With a trim." You smile and run your thumb along his his stubble, eyes trailing from his jaw to his lips.

For a second, Derek is sure you're going to kiss him. He tilts his head ever so slightly in anticipation, and his eyes flutter shut.

"So... you want a piece of cake?" You clear your throat, suddenly dropping your arms and breaking the embrace.

Of course you weren't going to kiss him. Derek gives you a half-hearted smile and nods, trying to hide just how crushed he feels.

"Yeah, sure. Cake."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"No, love, you're supposed to do the edge pieces first."

You chuckle as Derek angrily fumbles with two puzzle pieces. They quite obviously don't match, but he's trying to force them together anyways.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware puzzles had rules." He scoffs, dramatically tossing the little cardboard chunks across the table.

You'd dragged him out to the porch for a little fresh air, since he insisted he was too tired to make the five minute walk down to the beach.

"Well, they do. The biggest rule is don't throw the puzzle pieces, or you'll lose them." You laugh and continue flipping pieces over so they're facing upwards.

It hasn't been very long since you started the puzzle, and Derek already looks bored.

"Is this supposed to be fun?" He grumbles, helping you flip over pieces with one hand, the other finding it's way to rest on top of yours.

You wonder if he even notices he's doing it again. Touching you like that. You've gotten used to it by now, and usually just let it happen.

"Oh, come on. You gonna let a puzzle get the best of you, Danforth? A child could do this."

Derek makes a face and gestures to the sea of little cardboard scraps scattered across the table.

"A child could do a one thousand piece puzzle?" He scoffs.

"Okay, maybe not..." You laugh and adjust your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

"But I'm sure you can do it."

Derek's face flushes pink, and you aren't sure whether its from the praise or the way you're so casually holding his hand. Probably both. But so what if you're holding his hand? He's the one who started it.

He just mumbles something under his breath and looks back down at the table, suddenly very motivated to help you pick through the pieces.

His hand doesn't leave yours.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek wakes up from a deep sleep to the sound of your voice and the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp.

He gasps and tries to sit up, but finds he's stuck.

Er, not stuck, just... underneath you?

"Come on, love. You slept through nearly the whole movie." You laugh softly and start to nudge him off your lap.

Derek finally remembers what's going on, and pulls his arm out from under you. Apparently he'd tucked it beneath your knees while he slept, because he sure didn't remember doing it.

"Told you a chick flick would put me to sleep." He mumbles, fumbling to sit up. He finds his other arm is also stuck, wedged in between your waist and the couch.

"Sure made yourself comfortable, huh?" You tease, scooting forward and freeing him.

"Shut up." Derek reluctantly pulls away from you, sitting up and looking at you with a dazed expression. He wipes the drool from the corner of his mouth and groans. That really was a good nap.

"It's just so easy to fall asleep on you." The words come out before he can really think over them, and he freezes in embarrassment. Thankfully, you seem to take it in a different way than he meant it.

"Oh, am I that boring? I put you to sleep?"

"Exactly. I'm yawning already." He teases, letting out an exaggerated yawn that only earns him an elbow to the ribs.

"Hmph. Next time you can fall asleep somewhere else."

"But you're so damn comfortable." He whines, scrambling after you as you make your way upstairs. You can't leave him yet. You just can't.

"Well, your bed is plenty comfortable as well. Go to sleep."

Derek is suddenly struck with a thought, and takes your hand before you can slip away into your room for the night.

"What if..." He starts, placing his other hand on your hip and pulling you a little closer.

"What if I don't want to sleep in my bed tonight?"

You give him an incredulous look, and Derek can hardly believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Fuck, you're going to reject him. He just knows it.

"My bed?" You ask, raising an eyebrow and looking down at the way his hand is gripping your hip.

Derek can hear his heart pounding in his ears. He's being WAY too forward, and probably seems like a creep. Damnit.

"I... I just won't be able to sleep without you. I know it." He stutters, stumbling over his words. It's the truth, though. The only time he's been able to sleep peacefully lately is when he's touching you.

"Derek, love..." You chuckle and start to brush his hands away, taking a step back.

Fuck. He needs to show you how serious he is about this.

"Please? Just for tonight?" He grabs both of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his as he meets your gaze. You said he has puppy-eyes or something, right? Derek does his best to look pitiful.

It's not hard to do. He really does feel pitiful in this moment, begging you so blatantly. He might as well get on his fucking knees.

"Fine." You finally relent, groaning and gently shoving Derek aside as you head into your bedroom.

"But I hope you know I kick in my sleep."

"I don't mind taking that risk."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After quickly getting ready for bed, you settle down under the covers while Derek stands awkwardly to the side.

"Well? You gonna join me?" You ask, patting the spot next to you.

God, how did you get roped into this? Him and those damn puppy eyes. He's so hard to say no to.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Derek scrambles to climb into bed beside you. He looks like he's having just as much trouble believing what's happening.

"Sleeping with you wasn't really in my job description, you know. I'm complaining to your mother after this."

"Please don't." He groans, squirming and getting comfortable under the shared blanket. He keeps his distance, seeming content just to be in the same bed as you.

"You gonna sleep in that?" You lift the blanket to peek at his outfit, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Yeah? What's wrong with it?" He pouts and tugs the blanket back down, acting self-conscious.

"Nothing, just... You aren't going to be hot?"

"Are you trying to get me to take my pants off, sweetheart?"

"God, no. I've seen enough of that."

Your teasing clearly gets to him, because he rolls over to face away from you, grumbling. You swear his ears are a little pink. Is he blushing?

"Oh, love. I'm just messing with you." You scoot a little closer to him, and put a hand on his waist.

"I know." He whispers, breath hitched.

"Is it okay if I do this?"

He groans when you get even closer, spooning him from behind. Your arm wraps around his waist and you press your entire body against his.

"M-maybe I will get hot..." He mumbles, but makes no effort to push you away. Instead, he completely melts under your touch, relaxing against the pillow.

"Keep your pants on, Danforth."

"Yes ma'am."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek has been in bed with you for what feels like hours, (though really only around half of one), and he still can't believe what's happening.

Your arm is around his waist, holding him tight while the rest of your body is pressed up against him. He can feel your breasts pressing into his back, and your lips on his neck.

He almost wishes you'd kiss him, but that would probably send him over the edge.

And God, is he dangerously close to the edge right now.

His heart is pounding, heartbeat in synch with the throbbing in his pants. He's been hard ever since you cuddled up to him, but no way in hell is he going to ask you to stop. Not ever. Even if it kills him.

Scratch that. It is going to kill him. Derek can't help but let out a whimper as his dick twitches in his sweatpants.

Fuck. Your hand is right there, on his stomach. If you'd just slide it down a little...

"What's wrong?" You mumble, giving him a tight squeeze and nuzzling against the back of his neck.

"O-oh. Just... headache... Don't feel good..."

He feels like a total prick for lying to you, but what is he supposed to say? Yeah, totally fine, just horny as fuck? He'd rather die.

"Aww... I've got you, love."

Derek's breath hitches as you throw your leg over him. He can feel your thigh pressed up against his side, and the way you squeeze him feels heavenly.

He whimpers again, and starts to squirm slightly in your grasp. Fuck, if you keep this up he's not going to be able to control himself.

You continue to gently squeeze, rub, and cuddle him, whispering words of comfort with your lips pressed against the back of his neck. He can feel your hot breath on him, your breasts against his back, your hand on his stomach, your leg wrapped around his...

He can feel everything. And it's driving him insane.

Okay, okay, fuck. He can fix this. He just needs a quick release. That's all.

Derek starts to form a plan in his head, fueled by desperation and lust. Once he's mostly sure you're asleep, he slips his hand down into his boxers.

Biting back a moan, he slowly starts to jerk himself off. Painfully slow. He can't risk waking you up.

It's so fucking hard to not go faster, or move, or make a sound. Fuck, it's just so hard. Period.

He didn't really think this through, huh? Asking to sleep in your bed. Next time he'll jerk off first. If there is a next time. Damnit. If you catch him like this, you'll never speak to him again. He's sure.

Trembling, he accidentally lets a small whine slip out. Even with the absolute minimum amount of stimulation, he's close to finishing.

"Hnngh... Derek? You okay?"

Fuck. You're awake.

"Huh? Yeah, just... nightmare..." He chokes the words out, hand still wrapped around his cock as he slowly milks out a steady trickle of precum.

"It's okay." You whisper, holding him even tighter. "I'm right here."

Yeah, and that's the his damn problem. Your words and touch send him spiraling over the edge, and he bites his lip with nearly enough force to draw blood as he comes in his sweatpants.

It's not the most satisfying orgasm, seeing as he could barely touch it... but it still feels so much better than being that fucking horny with no release.

"Thank you..." Derek groans, praying that you don't ever discover the double meaning behind his words.

He had originally planned to sneak away and clean himself up, but with the way you're clinging to him...

Fuck. Guess he's sleeping in wet sweatpants.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: Oh my goddd, sorry for such a long wait on this chapter!!! I've been wanting to write this scene FOREVER, but I also wanted to get it right!!

I love putting Derek in uncomfortable situations. Not sorry.

Also its crazy to me that I've written 16 thousand words of fanfic for a character that had 20 minutes of screen time and then fucking DIED 💀

Anyways... expect the next chapter in 2-3 days. Thanks for all the love and support!!!

Part 6

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #derek danforth #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #josh hutcherson x you #derek danforth x you #derek danforth smut #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #fluff and angst #slowburn fic

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partycatty · 5 months

Text

i had a vision and drew it - and even better, i got a fic idea from it!

johnny cage > discovery

johnny discovers his new powers unexpectedly. maybe he wasn't as ordinary as others thought.

warnings: johnny thinks he's dying and gets all crisis-y, established relationship

notes: imagine instead of activating his powers in a life or death situation, it randomly bodyslams him like a heart attack - and it scares the hell out of him. also i hope u like my silly sketch :3

masterlist <3

• johnny's life was crumbling. his movies were flopping hard, and people were starting to forget his name. his spending habits were out of control, and you two were arguing about it so much that you grew tired of hearing your own voice. most days were the cold shoulder or shouting matches. things weren't looking great.

• it was during one of these matches when the shouting on his end abruptly paused, and he doubled over. your anger was shoved aside as you dashed forward to inspect his current state. but, just as soon as it started, it was over in a flash. johnny was startled, to say the least. his eyes were wide and he was panting.

• you guys assumed the stress was taking a toll on him, a physical toll. out of respect for his well-being, you held your tongue from that point on. or at least, you tried to. everything was relatively quiet until a mysterious yakuza member demanded the sword on your shared mantle. you would've thrown it at him if given the opportunity since the damn thing sent you back millions. johnny, however, wasn't as willing. fortunately for your safety's concern, he was the ultimate home security system, tying up the man after knocking him unconscious.

• we all know the rest. "what in the actual-" "i am the god of fire" "get your damn hands off him" "that's no special effect" "change the arc of your lives." blah blah blah. it was all a weird blur. apparently, you, johnny, and this new "friend" of yours were all chosen to fight for something bigger than a malibu disagreement. you were a fighter alongside your husband, but you did it competitively. johnny did it for the cameras, which isn't to say he's worse naturally. he could kick ass, and so could you, just in different directions.

• liu kang warned everyone that training would take months, as the tournament was far down the line. johnny grew impatient, and you grew tense with his lack of eagerness to actually train. regardless, you sparred and took the monk's advices to heart.

• johnny wouldn't tell you at first, since he didn't want to distract your own progress, but he would oftentimes catch himself feeling... funny, for lack of a better phrase. during meals, his eyes would unfocus and his hearing sounded underwater. at night, he'd toss and turn for hours in the cot beside yours. something felt wrong, really wrong. his chest felt fluttery and cold, like a sprite weaving between his ribs. it scared the holy hell out of him, considering how prone is family is to heart attacks.

• "great session! whaddya say to a well-deserved break?" he'd announce out of concealed desperation to the other earthrealmers, hoping that someone would agree and he'd be able to excuse himself to loosen his collar and sit down for a moment. it was after the fifth time asking in a day that you approached him with genuine concern.

• "honey, are you alright?" you asked gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. his eyes followed your touch and he sighed, moving your hand to his chest.

• "i-i'm afraid," he'll confess quietly, glancing behind you to make sure nobody was overhearing his moment of worry. "i haven't been feeling well, but i can't just drop everything and leave. not when my career's in the shithole. we've got nothing to return to. this fire god guy needs me, needs us, and i know damn well you'd follow me out if i stepped back from all of this."

• johnny's tragic worry struck a chord in your heart and you couldn't help but agree with his words. you advised him to ask a monk about decongestant tea, or some other simple remedy that would keep you at the academy.

• things died down, or at least, johnny's pain wouldn't be verbalized for a while. you and the boys were actually gaining significant strength and conditioning with the brutal training regime liu kang assigned. when he felt everyone was finally prepared to choose a champion, he assembled a king of the hill type of tournament on campus grounds.

• you stood between johnny and kenshi, a palpable tension on your husband's shoulders. his jaw was clenched tight, as were his fists. he looked... terrified. this wasn't a normal expression for the star.

• "johnny?" you whisper to him, reaching down to intertwine your fingers with his. before you could fully articulate your concerns, he speaks up.

• "i don't feel well," he murmurs in return, eyes fixated at the platform in front of you all. he visibly pales.

• liu kang calls you to the platform as the first contestant, and you obediently oblige with a bow, waiting for further instruction. your eyes danced across your potential competitors — raiden and kung lao, the humble farmers. kenshi, the enigmatic swordsman... and your husband, who looked as if he was shitting himself and moments away from puking.

• "you will face (reader), johnny cage."

• "a-are you sure? because that's my spouse, and i'd hate to—"

• liu kang frowns. johnny puts his hands up in a surrender motion, a pathetic attempt at remaining playful, and hoists himself to the platform across from you. his position readies, as does yours.

• though he may be visibly under the weather, the technique is still there. johnny's fighting style is unique and calculate, effortlessly playful and charismatic, just like him. even so, the match becomes quite even as you're familiar with his style. you parry many blows, mirroring others. the crowd is pleased and excited by the potential outcomes.

• you land a good kick to johnny's face, sending him spiraling in the air and landing on his back with a deep thud. the color in his face returns (due to the bruising) as he stares up at you, licking his lips before flourishing his way back up.

• but then, he lets out a strained cry.

• johnny clutches his chest, clawing at the layers of fabric across his body as if they're an anvil sitting atop his torso. his face twists as he doubled over in complete agony.

• "by the elder gods!" liu kang shouts, standing from his spectator chair. others let out their own concerns and shouts, but you're the first one rocketing to his side. you get to his level to inspect his face. you make a desperate attempt to push his damp hair from his face, but his neck snaps the other way as his body tries to expel this sudden onslaught of pain.

• as the fear that a heart attack is imminent, a sudden glow of green burns bright even past johnny's robes. it spills out like an angry cloud, seeping through johnny's fingers as he cries out in the worst pain he'd ever experienced. it is here that liu kang tenses up, then relaxes. he steps to the side, and does nothing but watch blankly. you come closer and part his clothing, giving yourself access to his bare chest to inspect the source.

• shockingly, the problem is... internal. his veins are glowing a bright green shade and when his eyes aren't deeply clenched, you sense a faint trace of emerald in his irises. right where his heart is, is a rhythmic flashing pattern.

• "make it stop!" johnny begs helplessly, and you reply on the verge of tears that you don't know how to help. however, almost as if on cue, he takes a deep breath inward and sits upright, eyes wide and jaw slack. and, just like that, everything seems normal again.

• you run your hand frantically across his bare skin, trying to feel for abnormalities as he catches his breath. you're crying now from the fear, and you catch a glimpse at his watery eyes.

• "are you okay?!" kung lao asks, putting a hand on his back to help him stabilize. "what was that?!"

• "i don't know..." johnny breathlessly replies, reaching a hand up to fix his hair nervously. however, as his hand traveled upward, he noticed the same emerald aura clouding around his hands, and he shouts out and scurries as if he's trying to run away from his own arm. as it's outstretched, it shoots a ball of energy outward, frying a mannequin that sat innocently off to the side. the crowd's eyes go from the mannequin and back to the celebrity. your fists ball up on his back, fistfuls of fabric keeping you upright otherwise you'd fall back from shock.

• "that is not how i anticipated that happening this time," liu kang muttered, coming closer to inspect johnny's palms. johnny stares at his hands like they grew overnight. his eyes shoot to the fire god, incredulous.

• "what the hell do you mean, 'this time?!'"

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #marley draws ☆

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ariisheresstuff · 1 year

Note

Hiii i have a Javier Pena request if thats ok?🤍

I was wondering if you could do something where like Javi is a bit dismissive of the reader, but also not mean just ignores them or talks over them and they think he doesnt like them..

then shes on a mission and she gets injured and hes panicking back at the office. Shouting at steve to know where you are etc. then you come into the office like bruised and bloody and he rushes to you, protective. And he takes you to his and cleans you up, eventually leading to fluffy romantic smut and ending with cuddles and admitting his feelings for you

Scared Feelings

Pairings: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Genre: Angsty + Smut

Warnings: Blood, mentions of dying, cuts, wounds etc. MINORS DNI sex, cursing, naked, cum, you know the drill

MasterList

A/N: Ty for this lovely request! Enjoy! <3

You have been working with agent Peña and agent Murphy for some time. Ever since you three have been on with this Escobar case. This was probably the most serious and risk taking cases you have been on since you started working as a DEA agent. Murphy was a sweetheart around you, being a gentlemen and making sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing. Javi on the other hand, let’s just say you guys don’t talk that much. You wouldn’t consider yourself friends. Sure you two greet each other but it’s very awkward and the tension is very sharp for no reason. Steve tried asking you what’s been the issue between you and Javi but you can’t seem to know why he doesn’t like you. You brush it off mostly, not wanting it to effect you so much.

It’s been months since you guys haven’t caught Escobar and everyone was getting frustrated.

“If we don’t find this son of a bitch, we all are going into a shithole.” Steve gritted out through his teeth.

“We tried everything, nothing. His guys are talking, what else is there to do. He’s too smart for us.” You said as you took a drag from your cigarette,

“Then we outta risk it.” Javi said making you and Steve turn to look at him,

“Then what? Have us die and make shit more complicated here?”

Javi scoffed at Steve’s remark, “This is our job Steve, we’re meant to risk our lives.” You said making Steve sigh, he ran a hand through his mess blonde locks as he shook his head. “Fuck it.”

You were assigned a mission downtown where apparently one of Escobar’s closet henchmen was meeting up with someone relative to Escobar. Unfortunately, Steve and Javi were ordered to stay back at the office and signal out radio stations to get any phone call information from Escobar. You assigned with other DEA agents, you just wished you were with Steve and Javi even though Steve was most likely better to be around in these types of situations. “Currently downtown, no signs of any suspicion yet.” You said over the Walkie-Talkie to Steve

“Copy that.”

“You think she can handle this?” Javi asked as he took a drag from his cigarette

“Of course she can, you think she can’t?”

Javi shrugged “Just saying, she’s never done it without us before.”

Steve smirked as he looked at his partner

“What?”

“You like her, don’t ya?

Javi choked on the smoke from his cigarette “The fuck? What’s your problem?”

Steve just wheezed as Javi was turning red “Aw, come on man, I know you do. Is that why you’re always quiet around her?”

Javi sighed as he leaned back in his chair giving Steve the finger “Shut the fuck up man.” Steve just shrugged as he continued to snicker making Javi grumble.

“He’s on the move.” You said into the Walkie-Talkie as you got out of the vehicle and crouched as you slowly made your way over to the guy, Steve jumped at your voice “Copy that kid, stay hidden.”

“On it.” You signaled the other agents to go in different directions and to follow your lead no matter what. You noticed the guy giving the dude some clear bag with something in it. You couldn’t tell what. “Target in sight.”

“See? Piece of cake for her.” Javi rolled his eyes as him and Steve continued on getting any radio signal but also keeping the lookout for you. You were about to stand up but to only feel someone yank you to the ground. You yelped in surprise as you tried to fight back. Apparently you were tricked. The guy had more of Escobar’s henchmen surrounding the area you were at watching. “I’m down! It’s a trap!” You managed to say in the Walkie-Talkie while confusing to get the guy off of you. Javi’s eyes widened at that as Steve stood up grabbing the Walkie-Talkie. “Y/N! Hey! Kid! What’s going on!” You didn’t have time to answer as you were struggling with some guy on top of you with a gun.

“Perra estúpida, ¿crees que nos engañaste?” Stupid bitch, you think you outsmarted us? The guy said while punching you in the stomach making you yelp in pain, you tried to grab his fist but he was much more stronger than you. You quickly grabbed the Walkie-Talkie trying to respond back to Steve

“Send backup! Send backup!” You yelled as the man grabbed the Walkie-Talkie as started hitting you in the head with it before breaking it.

“Y/N! Hey! Y/N answer me! Shit!” Steve quickly got up to and ran to his and Javi’s office to grab his gun

“The fuck is happening?” Javi asked while also grabbing his gun

“She’s in trouble, it was a trap.”

“Fuck.” Javi said quietly, him and Steve exited the office was about to exit the building when Messina blocked their way

“And where do you think you two are going?”

“Y/N is in trouble boss, she needs backup.”

“I will take care of that, you two aren’t going anywhere.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Messina gave Javi a look

“Yes I am Agent Peña. We need you two signaling in the radio room right now.”

“But Y/N is in serious trouble right now Messina.” Steve said as he was getting frustrated knowing you were in danger.

“I understand that agent Murphy, but we are sending backup right now. I ordered you both a job, correct?”

Javi shook his head as he sighed “Yes Ma’am.” Messina nodded her hand

“Fantastic.” She dismissed them both as they walked back to the radio room.

“Fucking bullshit, she’s in trouble right now and she isn’t doing shit to help her. Fuck!” Javi slammed his gun down on the table harshly as he bounced his leg,

“Javi, calm down. Y/N is a strong one.”

“Anything could happen to her Steve.”

Steve gave Javi this look, “Who Are you and what you have with Javier Peña?”

“Fuck, I don’t have time for this Steve.”

Steve bit down a smile “Knew you liked her man.” He whispered knowing Javi couldn’t hear him.

“Ah!” You yelped as the guy that was broke your Walkie-Talkie slammed you into a wall. Where is Steve? Where is Javi? You kept thinking they weren’t coming. Tears were clouding your vision, you never been in this type of situation before for any mission you were assigned.

“Suéltame pedazo de mierda!” Let go of me you piece of shit! Your nose was bleeding as well as the side of your head from being pushed down in the cement of the sidewalk, you had bruises everywhere. The tears started to fall as you prayed for someone to save you. You jumped at every gunshot that rang around your surroundings, event DEA agent that was working with you was either dead or saving themselves. The guy grabbed you by the throat as he began to block your airway. You gasped for air as you grabbed onto the hand that was around your throat, punching at him to the best of your ability.

“Hora de morir perra DEA.” Time to die DEA bitch his other hand reached down to his gun as he aimed it towards your temple.Your heart was racing as you thought about the last seconds of living, you closed your eyes as the tears began to fall harder “Please…” you gasped out as you felt the coolness of the gun stick harder into your head when all of a sudden a long bang rang through your ears. You body jolted as you felt to ground. Blood splattered all over you as you froze. The guy was laying dead with a gunshot to his head. Your breathing was uneven as you couldn’t process what just happened. You heard the sirens and saw flashing lights appear to view. More DEA agents were sent as they were helping you and the others settle everything. One of them helped you into another car to drive you back to the station. You were shaking the whole and couldn’t even speak with how traumatized you were from the scene.

Javi was pacing around the office while Steve watched him. Javi went through at least two packs of cigarettes in the last few hours. That’s how scared he was for you. He couldn’t even believe he was showing how much he cares about you.

“Dude she’s fine. I’m sure she’s ok-

“How the fuck do you know that Murphy?” Javi snapped at him as his hands started to shake, “it’s been three fucking hours since we heard anything. You call that okay?”

“Javi, the more you think this, the worse it becomes for you.” “I need to know if she’s safe or not or so help me—

he was interrupted by the door opening, he jolted up to see Messina. “We got her.”

Javi and Steve sprinted to the entrance of the office to see you wrapped in a blanket all hurt and scared. You looked up at the two men with tears falling down your face and your bottom lip trembling. “Gosh kid.” Steve muttered as he was the first to pull you into a tight hug and he rubbed your back and shushed your whimpers to calm you down.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know—

“Stop. It’s not your fault. None of this is Y/N.” He gave your shoulders a squeeze as gave you a small smile as you sniffled. You then turned to Javi who had a worried look on his face. Your smile faded as you looked into his brown eyes. He walked up to you slowly before he wrapped his arms around you as he hugged you as well. You body tightened as you froze. Javi never hugged you before.

“I’m glad you’re okay cariño.” He whispered into your ear making sure Steve and the others didn’t hear him. Your body relaxed in his touch as you hid your smile in his chest as you hugged him back. You both pulled away after a few seconds as you gave Javi and Steve a smile making them smile back at you. You all turned towards the entrance as you watched all the men that attacked in handcuffs be sent away into rooms. You felt the heavy weight on your shoulders release knowing that you were safe. Steve was first one to break the silence.

“Well, it’s time for me to head home. Got a wife and kid to deal with.” He said with a snicker making you smile.

“Tell Connie I said hi.”

Steve nodded as he brought you into one last hug for tonight

“If you need anything, you call me. Anything.”

You nodded at Steve as kissed his cheek as a way of saying thank you. Steve smiled as he squeezed your shoulder as a way of saying bye before waving off Javi and telling him about seeing him tomorrow. Now it was just you and Javi. You swayed around as you looked at your fingers. Too shy to start conversation.

“So you heading home or…”

you jumped lightly at his suddenly voice before looking up at him.

“Oh, um I walked here this morning. I’m fine with walking my apartment isn’t far—

“Like hell you’re walking home after what just happened. Come I’ll take you.” You didn’t have a chance to respond as you shrugged before grabbing your things from your desk before walking up to Javi.

“This isn’t my apartment Jav.” You looked out the window to see his and Steve’s apartment, he turn off the car before stepping out and helping you.

“I know, just figured you needed a drink after tonight. Besides I have stuff to help your wounds and shit.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks tingle at that face that he wants to help you. You didn’t say anything before walking up to him as he lead the way to his apartment. You both made it to his floor as he got out his door keys before opening up the door. He stepped to the side as he gave you a small smile “Ladies first.” You giggled as you stepped into his dark apartment

“Why thank you kind sir.” You teased back making Javi chuckle a bit. You looked around his apartment. “Nice apartment.”

“It’s nothing.” You sat down on his couch as he went to the kitchen to get you a drink. You winced as you felt your bruises becoming worse. You sort of forgot about them. Javi came back with a glass of whiskey. You thanked him as he set his own drink down before going down the hall. You drank the strong liquor in silence as you enjoyed the strong bitter taste. You licked your lips as you set the cup back down as Javi came back with a first aid kit. “Javi, I’m fine really. You don’t need to do all of this.” He shook his head

“I know, I just feel like it’s best to see you in good hands rather than suffering.” He sat next to you as he grabbed out a few cotton ball and peroxide. You sighed before nodding

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me cariño.”

Cariño

Something about that name made butterflies appear in your stomach and your cheeks became all red.

You winced as the peroxide was stinging your open wound that was on your cheek. “Sorry.” Javi said as he quickly cleaned up the cut

“It’s okay.”

He set a bandaid on your cheek before giving you a soft smile “You’re all patched up.” You smiled, happy that it was over.

“Wow Javi. Maybe you should be in the medical field instead.” You teased as he shook his head while chuckling. You watched him as he put away the first aid and came back with more whiskey. You watched him fill up both of your cups with golden brown liquid as he took out his cigarette packs. He lit one up as he laid back. You both sat in silence for a while before you spoke up. “Javi?” He hummed in response, you sighed as you felt your heart appear in your throat. “How come you never spoken to me?” Javi felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at you, it caught him off guard. So you did notice it. He thought to himself. He set down his cigarette on the ash tray as he rubbed his hands together.

“Listen. It was nothing about me being against you. No hate towards you or anything like that. It’s just… ever since you came around, I’ve felt nervous being around you.” You gave him a frown making him panic “Not in a bad way, it’s just— fuck— you make me feel these types of things I never experienced before.” Your eyes went wide as you felt your heart tighten,

“W-what do you mean.” Javi sighed as he felt himself getting hot and sweaty. It’s now or never.

“I have these feelings around you. Like deep feelings.” You mouth went dry as you understood what Javi was saying, you swallowed.

“You like me?” Javi looked down as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Yes.” He said quietly but for you to still hear, you froze. “I’m sorry if you felt like I didn’t like you or seemed disrespectful around you. I was just nervous about messing up around you and you thinking I was some dick or something.” You but your lip as you tried to hide the smile appearing on your lips watching him ramble on. “Steve was teasing me about liking you and shit. I’m just a dick for telling you earlier I’m sorr— you cut Javi off as you grabbed the side of his face as smashed your lips on his. It caught Javi off guard as he made a surprised noise and tensing up. He then was brought back down to earth before he relaxed as he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer. You sighed as your hands traveled to his hair as he cupped your face bringing your face closer and deeper. Javi groaned as you moaned lightly. You both pulled for air but not enough to where your lips were still touching. You both were panting as you both looked into each other’s eyes.

“Was that enough to answer?” You said as Javi chuckled. You leaned your forehead on his as he started to slowly kiss down your neck.

“Hmmm, I don’t know cariño. I think I still don’t understand. Maybe you should show me.” He growled as he started to nip at your neck making you jolt and whine slowly. You crawled into his lap as you started to grind your hips on his already hard cock. Javi groaned as he yanked off his shirt and pants and helping you out of yours. His mouth watered as he stared at your bra. He looked up at you with permission making you nod as you continued to grind on him and moaning.

Javi’s hands were shaking in excitement as he took off your bra with one hand. You looked at him with wide eyes as he smirked at your expression. “Javier you naught menace. How in the hell do you know how to do that?” You nipples hardened at the cool air,

“I may have some experience.” You shook your head as he chuckled lowly. He continued to kiss down your neck before trying to find your sweet spot. You moaned as you rain your fingers through his hair. Hickeys and bite marks scattered all over your neck. Your body jolted as you yelped. “Mmm found it.” You cum right then and there as Javi helped you roll your hips on his hard bulge.

“Javi.”

“What’s wrong baby?”

“N-need you.” Javi chuckled

“Oh you need me?” You nodded as you watched him move down to your tits. You moaned a bit louder as he started to squeeze each tit like a stressing hall. “Words baby.” You whined

“Yes, I-I need you Javi.” He smirked as he continued to play with your boobs. He leaned down as he brought a nipple in his mouth “Oh fuck, Javi.” You moaned as he swirled his tongue over the hardening bud.

“Beautiful. The most beautiful tits ever baby. Gosh, you’re so fucking hot.” You felt yourself getting more wet at his praising.

“Oh fuck! Javi!” You yelped as Javi switched positions with you. You were now laying on the couch as Javi hovered over you. He leaned down as he smashed his lips on yours. You both moaned as you both were grinding your hips together.

“Bet that pussy of yours is all wet for me.” You furrowed your eyes-brows as you nodded at him making him smirk. “Bet you want me to fucking eat you out till your screaming my name Hm?” You quickly nodded at him

“Please Javi, I-I want you to eat my pussy. Please baby I’ll do anything.”

“Good girl begging like the good princess you are.” He leaned down to kiss you as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. You moaned as you wrapped your tongue around his. Spit coming out on the sides of your mouth as your teeth were clanking with his form how rough your make out was. Javi released the kiss as he started to kiss down your body. You shivered from his kisses as he praised you with words

“So beautiful, so sexy, you’re all mine cariño. All.Fucking.Mine.” He growled as he got lower, he kissed around your belly making you whimper as he got to your thighs. Your thugs started to shake making Javi hold them as he kissed your inner thighs so slowly making you squirm.

“Javi please, d-don’t tease me.”

“But where’s the fun in that baby?” He continued to tease you for a while before he started to go to where you needed him most. Your body started to shake from excitement. Javi licked his lips as he admired your lacy panties. He dragged a finger over your lips making you jolt, he then slowly started to rub your clot through your underwear.

“Oh! Fuck!” Javi licked his lips

“Gosh you’re so fucking sexy squirmy for me like a pathetic slut aren’t you mi amor?” You felt butterflies coming in your stomach at the nickname. He then leaned down to press the softest kiss to your clit making you cry out. He dove his nose into your slit as he inhaled your scent. He groaned. “Gosh you smell so good and sweet baby. You want me to taste you?” You nodded quickly making him chuckle. “Don’t worry baby, I will be tasting you.” In a split second he ripped off your underwear. You didn’t even care at this point. He didn’t give you a warning before he dove into your pussy. You moaned so loud it echoed around the living room. Your fingers dove into his messy locks as you grinder on his face.

“Oh shit! Oh my god. Javi you’re so good. Oh my god- baby!” Javi hummed into your pussy as he entered in two fingers into your slit. He then started to kiss your clit multiple times before he sucked on it. Hard. You felt yourself get dizzy as you felt your orgasm coming.

“Shit baby, the most wettest, most beautiful pussy. You gonna come cariño?”

“Yes! Fuck yes!” He felt You tightened around his fingers. He started to finger you more faster as he continued to suck on your clit.

“Let go for me baby. Cum all over my face.”

Your legs shook as your fingers yanked into his locks. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you saw white.The coil in your tummy snapped as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Javi helped you ride out your high as he continued to kitten lick your clit and slit. You jolted as he continued to lick your clit. You whimpered as you pulled him from the back of his neck back to your face, you smashed your lips on him making him groan. You whined as you tasted yourself on him, you plunged your tongue into his mouth making him growl as he cupped your face. You both pulled away with a string of spit connecting your lips. Your hands were reaching down to take his cock out of his boxers, he then stopped you as he grabbed your wrist gently before shaking his head as he smiled at you. “Not tonight baby, I need to be inside you.” You whined as you smirked at him before pecking his lips twice. You laid back down only making him shake his again. You gave him a frown. “I want you to ride me baby.” You felt butterflies again at his low tone making you smile before nodding at him. You quickly got on his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You admired how toned and sort of buff he was. You smiled as you started to touch his shoulders and biceps making him chuckle. “You like what you see cariño?” You giggled as you kissed his neck

“Never realized how strong you were Javi.” Javi smirked at you as he aligned his cock to your entrance. His hands were on your hips as you stared into his eyes. Him staring back at you.

“You ready?” He asked quietly as you nodded, he nodded with you as he slowly started to sink into you. Your body jolted at the feeling before you let out a surprised moan. Javi groaned as his grip tightened on your hips. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight mi amor.”

“O-oh, fuck— Javi, you’re so big.” He chuckled as he helped you move your hips slowly.

“Feels good baby?” You nodded as you started to bounce on his cock, “Need words cariño.” You whined

“Y-yes Javi, feels so good. Fuck! Don’t stop.”

“I’ll never stop. Never.” He growled as he kissed and sucked on your neck. Your bouncing got faster as Javi moved your hips. Your fingers tugging onto his hair. You felt hot and sweaty. You’re moaning got louder as so did Javi’s.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum. Can I cum inside you mi amor?” Javi groaned out. You looked down at him as you started to feel tears form in your eyes from the overstimulation. You nodded your head rapidly.

“Please!please! Please cum inside me Javi! I wanna feel your cum.” Javi smashed his lips on yours hard as he helped you grind harder and faster on his dick. Your moaning picked up as the tears fell down your red cheeks. Javi slapped your ass making you jump.

“Cum with me baby. Fucking cum.” You cried out as your body started to shake. Your mouth was open with no sound coming out. You both paused your movements before you both moaned and groaned together. Your bodies started to shake uncontrollably. Javi groaned loud and deep in your neck as you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer.

“Oh shit, mmmm fuck.” You moaned out, Javi panted in your neck as his hands rubbed your back.

“Shit.” Javi muttered out. Your legs felt like jello as you stayed wrapped in his arms with his cock still in you. You kissed Javi’s temple as you ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down. You’re bodies all sticky and hot. Javi then pulled out of you making you whine at the loss of contact and making Javi whimper at the coolness hitting him. He jolted as he calmed his breathing down. He reached over to grab his pack of cigarettes before lighting one up. He laid down with you on his chest. You sighed as you stared up at him, admiring his bare chest and him smoking. You both laid there in silence. You rested your head on his chest as you relaxed at the sound of his heartbeat.

“Javi?”

“What’s wrong cariño?” His voice rumbled through his chest making it vibrate. You looked up at him to see him staring back at you. It only made you smile.

“Nothing. Just… does this mean something?” Javi exhaled a fog of smoke as he gave you a smile

“What do you think mi amor?”

“I’m assuming maybe?” You teased making him roll his eyes at you before chuckling. You chuckled back as you sat up to be closer to him. You took the cigarette from his hand as you inhaled, you stared into his eyes as you exhaled. Javi hummed as he cupped your face. You finished the cigarette before placing it on the ashtray.

“You are something, you know that?” You shrugged at him as you played with his hair,

“I’ve been told.” Javi smiled at you before pulling your face closer to his as you both shared a loving, long kiss. You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, him wrapping his around your back. You both continued the kiss as you snuggled into his warm embrace. Slowly falling asleep in each other’s touch.

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25

#narcos javier peña #narcos netflix #narcos series #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfic #javier pena x female reader #javier pena smut #steve murphy #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena x y/n #javier pena angst #javier pena narcos #javier pena pedro pascal #javier pena imagine #javier pena fluff

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xxcherrycherixx · 7 months

Text

Briar: so its been pretty slow today, the first day back from spring break always is.

Briar: the realization that you're back in this shithole just sucks the life out of you.

Briar: cupid had it especially bad. she arrived super hungover, apparently her family throws massive ragers that last like a week or something. which, by the way im actually so betrayed by the fact she has never invited me to one before.

Briar: anyway she's been slumped over on that table for the last 3 hours, blondie sat next to her like an hour ago and started stroking her hair to like, comfort her.

Briar: i am so tempted to just scream really loud in her ear just to mess with her, like revenge for all the nights i have to hear them going at it like rabbits. my room is literally next door to theirs, im living an actual nightmare and there's no escape because headmaster grimm wont let me switch rooms without a good reason, and i cant just say "my neighbors keep fucking really loud at 3 am" to him. im not a snitch.

Briar: what were we talking about? oh first day back to school, right.

#ever after high #briar beauty #c.a cupid #blondie lockes #heartlockes #continuing my shitty wwdits documentary ever after high thing #i hate backgrounds sm so i just stole from the show LMAO #my art

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irkimatsu · 3 months

Note

I know you said you're busy tonight and you have other requests so take as long as you need but I just wanted to put in a request before I forgot it! Don't feel pressured at all though, take your time.

BUTTTTT anyways, I was thinking about casual dominance headcanons for husk 🫣🤗

Sorry for the delay - I really hope these are worth the wait! I love casually dominant Husk. He's deeply loving, just a little clingy, and as an Overlord, his domineering nature is just how he cares for his treasure...

A big thing for him, whether as an Overlord or in the present day, is physical contact. Not so much in the sense of PDA, but in the sense of keeping a hand on you at all times so everyone knows you’re his. This is especially apparent when he’s an Overlord; whenever the two of you are at a public event, his arm is wrapped firmly around your waist. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, far from it; he knows you’ll stay loyal to him. He just doesn’t trust any of the other fuckheads in this hall. If Valentino even looks like he’s thinking about you, Husk is fully ready to tear him to shreds, reputation be damned.

He’s a little more trusting in the present day and doesn’t need a hand on you 24/7, but he’ll still worry and start clinging again if he doesn’t trust the current environment. You don’t need to worry about anyone ever drugging you; Husk will have them tackled to the ground before they can even get near your drink. Consent is important to him at this stage in any case, and if someone is trying to violate the consent of someone so precious to him, his rage comes out in full force. He’ll be all over you afterward, holding you tight, asking if you’re okay, insisting that you both get out of this shithole… he’ll be worried about you for days after that, a bit more clingier where he can get away with it. He won’t lose what’s his… he's still willing to let you live your life apart from him, but for the next couple days it'll worry him sick to have you out of his sight. But you enjoy being submissive to him, so maybe you wouldn't mind obeying his request to stay put and let him protect you... just don't let him know that's what you're doing. Present-day Husk is a lot more willing to be dominant if you don't call it that. He needs to watch your boundaries, you know?

As an Overlord, Husk loves dressing his pet in beautiful collars. They serve as a reminder that his pet is owned, but still cherished. Don’t expect to ever go out in public without him or your collar. Like I said earlier, he can’t trust anyone to behave themselves; all he can do is hope that the knowledge that you’re owned by the Gambling Demon is enough of a deterrent for some demons. He must admit he gets a rush of power when a demon starts looking at you, then immediately notices whose arm you're on and flees... it's good to have others respect his property.

In the present day, he’d rather not think about collars at first. He sure as hell hates his own, and he doesn’t like thinking about the controlling asshole he used to be. But one day, you come down prepared for that night’s date, your outfit completed by a black leather choker with a white diamond hanging from it like a name tag…

If he can work up the guts when you’re in private, he’ll ask if he can call you his pet, and if you can leave the choker on while you make love. His talk should come off as demeaning - come here, my pet, you’re such a good pet… but the sheer amount of love he can fit into the word “pet” melts your heart. The charm on your choker will eventually be traded out for a ruby heart. It looks like a simple fashion accessory, but you both know exactly what the choker and charm mean.

Overlord Husk loves petnames like “pet” and “doll” because they indicate what you are to him; something for him to dress up and care for, something he owns. He loves making his doll look beautiful. When he picks out a new outfit for you, you don’t need to put it on yourself; he’s more than happy to help you out of your current outfit and into your new one, his paws touching your body more than he strictly has to. He would much rather you dress conservatively; other people don’t need to be ogling you, and he likes to get to use his imagination when he admires you.

“Amazing,” he whispers as you both admire your reflection in the mirror.

His claws graze your neck as he affixes your newest collar and gently kisses the top of your head. “Shall we be off, my doll?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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malrie · 20 days

Text

for: @jasipereo, who told me i should what: in the burning maze, apparently they fly off together after jason dies and nothing happens at all. this is the nothing. wc: 1700

Piper had grown out her hair since Leo saw her last. He touched the ends of it, feeling the familiar softness between his fingers.

“Did you get taller?” she asked, voice strained from having cried so much. He didn’t see her expression; she was sitting in front of him on Festus, facing only the white sky.

“I dunno,” he said, because he didn’t. Time was strange in that other place. To him, he’d been gone for only a moment. As if he hadn’t been lost at all.

She leaned backwards. Without having to ask, Leo let the internal heat from his body migrate to her. They were just below plane altitude, maybe four or five miles in the air. It was cold, but he wouldn’t let her be.

Had Piper not been there, Leo would have pried the casket open and crawled inside to lie beside him. He was sure of it. The instinct was nonsensical, even desperate, and still it pulled him like water down a drain. He wanted to see him again. He wanted to see him with his eyes closed, as though he were only asleep. And Jason had always been a peaceful sleeper.

Back then, Piper’s iron grip on his forearm had anchored him. Maybe she felt the urge, too. Maybe they could have all fit inside. There, they could have dreamt as one, having found peace in a place where nothing could tear them apart. Together again.

“You did,” she replied. “Get taller, I mean. Just a little.”

Piper had a room in her grandpa’s ranch house that she hadn’t used since she was eleven. Leo inspected the off-white curtains, the stuffed animals on the bookshelves. She had a pink CD player and a Hello Kitty pillowcase. It was strange, confronted with the idea that she had lived a life before him.

He helped her unpack what little she brought with her. Downstairs, Leo heard Coach’s booming timbre, comforting in its own way. He and Mellie would stay in the guest room with Chuck, leaving Leo to fend for himself in the den.

“What’re you gonna do now?” asked Piper, folding two pairs of orange camp shirts and sorting them in a dresser.

Leo laid on her carpet, eyeing the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on the ceiling. “Calypso wants to enroll in school. I tried telling her about the shithole that was secondary education, but she wanted to experience it herself. As for me, I’m never going back. S’one of the conditions I made for living at the Waystation.”

Piper paused in her folding. Then she started up again, this time with a pile of sweaters. She lingered on a blue one that read: Edgarton Day and Boarding School.

“I’m starting Tahlequah High next week,” she said.

“And I’ll make it to your grad party, beauty queen.”

He figured. Piper liked school enough; he knew she never missed an assignment at Wilderness. Meanwhile, Leo turned every packet he got into paper planes, letting them ride the Nevada gust out his dormitory window.

“If you’re not finishing school,” she continued, “what’ll you do? Help Hemithea and Josephine?”

“That’s sorta the plan.” Leo rubbed his eyes. The stars were too old to hold any glow now. “I guess… I guess I just want something to keep busy. Maybe teach shop for the kids for however long. After that, I don’t know. Being in one place too long… I’m not real good at that.”

“So no camp?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no camp. You?”

“No,” Piper said, then laughed along with him.

He knew she didn’t mean she hated either camp, their friends, or their community—they only needed distance, measured and in moderation. Jason was everywhere, after all. Jason Grace’s lifeblood was the legacy of both camps. In a way, that was what had taken him from them. The gods had owed Jason ten times over and this was how he was repaid. There was nothing for Leo there, no loyalty, and Piper felt the same, even if only mirroring an inch of his resentment.

They ate dinner with everyone. Tristan still had some lost pallor, but his charisma was hard to chip at, especially when his daughter needed him. Toothless Chuck gummed around a piece of summer squash while the rest of them ate a hot meal cooked by a friend of the family. People had been in and out of the house all day; their fridge was stocked for the entire week. The McLeans had roots here. They were loved and welcomed. Leo and Piper had stayed inside her room like homebodies until the visitors had all left.

While Mellie put Chuck down for bed, Tristan and Coach cleared the table and washed the dishes. Piper told Leo that they’d probably go out on the porch and smoke some of her grandad’s tobacco pipes once they were done, a vice her dad failed to keep secret from her.

Snickering, they imagined Coach hacking a lung and ambled upstairs to her grandpa’s study. It was a small and cool space. Her grandfather kept a large collection of books of all kinds that ranged from Indigenous history to psychology to science fiction. Aside from the bookshelves, which weren’t as dusty as Leo would’ve imagined, there was a desk with a swivel chair and a large claw-footed single-seater sofa in the corner of the room, just by the window.

Leo grabbed a book off the shelf just for the fun of it and plopped down on the sofa. The words swam around on the pages. Even if he could read it, he doubted he could parse analytical biochemistry jargon.

“I used to come up here when Grandpa was doing his lesson plans,” said Piper. Tom McLean was a structural biology professor. “I’d beg for him to play with me, but he’d just say, ‘My love, you cannot have what you want the instant you desire it.’ I liked that. Not even then was it easy for people to say no to me. He was the only one.”

Looking out the window, Leo saw the shine of Festus’s metal in the darkness. The dragon was hunkered down in the yard, closest to sleep as automatons could get.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Leo said. He rested his gaze on the horizon that bled into the night. “Calypso’s waiting for me.”

“I know.” Piper came over to him, gently pulling the textbook away from his grasp. It forced him to look at her.

A beat passed. “I’m sorry, Piper. About Jason.”

She smiled wryly, placing Clinical Biochemistry: Techniques and Instrumentation onto the side table. She asked, “Why are you saying sorry to me?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. She stood over him, the moonlight from outside overlaying her skin like a filter, the image of an aching spector. Her face was unreadable. Tonight, her eyes were one color, and it was borrowed, familiar: electric blue, as vibrant as the sky once a storm had cleared. His eyes.

Still standing, she raised a hand, placing it over his arm in an innocuous touch. “You loved him, too,” she said. Leo’s hackles rose, but it was true and—now that Jason was dead—harmless. “Leo, we weren’t together anymore. I broke up with him. After you died, I couldn’t… I couldn’t work it out. Work us out. Because without you, it was like… Like the lights had gone out.”

His hand grabbed her wrist, wanting to rip it away, but he couldn’t. “Wait. I-I don’t want to hear this,” he said.

If only she had never brought it up. Mellie had told him earlier in the day, with Chuck on her hip and wearing a worried frown. Piper and Jason had split some months ago. They never went further to explain, but to everyone who knew the two, it was apparent that it had torn at them.

“I thought,” she kept going, “that if you had come back, maybe Jason and I could have—with you… But we never got a chance.”

“Piper,” he said firmly, getting up from the seat to grab her shoulders. “You have to stop. I’m leaving tomorrow, at dawn. I’m moving to Indiana. I’ll come for birthdays, special days. We’ll see each other at reunions. I’ll Iris you—every day if you want! It’ll be good. Like we always were. Like we were before everything. Don’t do this.”

“You can’t stay,” she said. “I know. I know because it happened to me, too. It hurt to be with him because you weren’t there. And I know you see him when you look at me. What color are my eyes, Leo? Whose are they? He used to see yours.”

It had to happen, just once, even if never again for the rest of their lives. It wasn’t even their first kiss, which had happened a lifetime ago, on some forgettable rooftop in a place that never loved them. He shook a little as her hands came up to his neck, as though the cold affected him. His mouth tasted salt from her tears. Piper made small noises, gasping in increments when they could bear to part. They tumbled back to a bookshelf, some hard edges jutting against Leo’s spine.

It was important that he was the one to speak first. Not because he didn’t trust her not to compel him, but to prove that he knew she wouldn’t. Not for this.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” repeated Leo, thumb rolling down her jaw. “That’s hours away.”

Leo got up before the sun did. Oklahoma mornings were crisp and new, almost impossibly so. The fog in the distance cleared around the McLean property, grass dewing with small beads of fresh water. Standing on the porch now, Leo knew this would be a good home filled with love.

Tristan McLean saw him come out of Piper’s room. He didn’t react much, only telling him to be safe on his journey back. He’d also shaken his hand like a real man and said, “She’s stronger than I’d ever hoped.”

“Stronger than me,” Leo replied, smiling.

Seeing him, Festus crooned in happy creaks, shaking out his stiffness. As Leo took off, he could have sworn he saw the curtains in Piper’s window move. Just in case, he brought up his hand to wave goodbye.

#liper #jasipereo #valgrace #rrverse #heroes of olympus #hoo #fic #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #< HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE YAYYYY

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monstersandmaw · 9 months

Text

Snowfall - a polyamorous m/m/m fantasy story ft. an elf, a vampire, and a draugr/lich (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I had a random and vivid dream about a draugr/lich with a secret, living in an old tomb in Skyrim and meeting a twinky, kinda foul-mouthed elven adventurer and his snooty, grumpy, (not-so-)secretly adoring vampire boyfriend. This was the result.

Daethir is pronounced 'day-theer', Nyr 'Neer', and Karsi 'car-si' (with a short 'i' like 'hit').

If you’ve not played Skyrim, none of the lore is needed to enjoy this story. It’s just someone else’s sandbox I’m playing in for some handy, pre-existing lore.

Content: Brief/passing mention of enslavement and mass sacrifice, genocide of an entire species, a tiny bit of blood and threat to life, and Daethir’s inner (and outer) monologue which includes a fair few uses of the word ‘fuck’.

Wordcount: 7589

Despite what the tattered remnants of his pride were trying to tell him, Daethir was most definitely, one hundred percent lost.

He was completely fucking disorientated in this dilapidated shithole of an ancient Nord tomb. He was also incandescently furious about that fact.

His sense of direction was fucking legendary. He must have explored a hundred underground tombs and dwarven cities, sunk deep into the earth as well as forgotten places consumed by rambling forests, and never once had he got lost before. He’d even been to bloody Labyrinthian! But no. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere maybe three or four hours back, and now he was balls deep in skeever shit and cobwebs, and couldn’t find the way out.

“Oh man, Karsi must be going berserk out there,” he muttered through clenched teeth, breath billowing in the dark, cold tunnel.

The draugrs’ strange compulsion to keep the tombs somewhat maintained for their slumbering master meant that there was nearly always light flickering in the sconces on the walls, and braziers were often found burning at the intersections of the tomb’s warren of passageways, and he found himself pathetically grateful that he wasn’t lost in the pitch black at least.

“Hold on, love,” he added as he set his jaw and tried to strain his senses for the faintest lift of a breeze in the stagnant air of the tomb. “I’m coming.”

He hoped the vampire didn’t hurt himself trying to break through the unique enchantment that seemed to stop the undead from passing through it. Gods, Karsi had practically been spitting venom when he’d discovered he couldn’t enter the tomb with Daethir, no matter what spells he hurled at the doorway. Daethir, as usual, had slipped gleefully through in the blink of an eye and without a backward glance.

“I didn’t even say goodbye,” he thought bitterly, and the pervasive fear of dying alone in the dark crystallised into something sharper and edged with guilt when he realised that Karsi would never know exactly how he died, and would never be able to recover his lover’s body. “Shit.”

Something moved up ahead and he froze.

Blue eyes in the dark.

Shit.

A draugr Death Lord from the size of it, and from that ugly horned helmet.

Before he could formulate any sort of plan, hands reached out from the darkness behind him.

One clasped right over his mouth to form a perfect seal against the scream that rose unbidden from the pit of his stomach, and the other wrapped around his waist, and he found himself lifted bodily off the floor and into an alcove.

Naturally, like the well-trained, level-headed, and seasoned rogue he was, Daethir thrashed in blind and abject panic, lashing out with his heels until a hoarse, scraping voice rasped in his ear, “Auri-el have mercy, stop! I’m trying to save your life!”

Deciding that his luck might have been on the cusp of changing, or that he was about to become easy prey for some maniac who apparently lived down there in the dark tunnels of an ancient Nord tomb, Daethir went limp. He was not put down.

For a long few minutes, neither of them dared move in case the slightest sound attracted the Death Lord who was patrolling the corridor up ahead. Like an extremely loyal but not terribly bright guard dog, it swung its head back and forth, growling and snarling to itself and adjusting its grip on the enormous ebony war axe in its right hand. At the way the light played along the black blade of that axe like firelight on oil, Daethir shuddered involuntarily into the grasp of his mysterious rescuer.

“Easy,” the voice breathed, right in his ear. His tapering, sensitive, elven ear.

He shuddered again and tried not to gasp for an entirely different reason this time. Funny how terror and pleasure seemed to go hand in hand for him. After all, he was dating a vampire, and the two of them frequently mixed feeding and fucking, so he was no stranger to a healthy dose of of fear lacing his pleasure. But now was absolutely, categorically not the time to start getting turned on by a strong stranger manhandling him in a dark tomb. Gross, Dae, get it together.

The hand across his mouth was warm and leathery and strong, and by the faint glimmer of torchlight from beyond their shadowed alcove, he could see the faintest flash of bone-white flesh. Strange, but not totally unusual. People were born without pigment in their skin, after all. Heck, he’d spent an entire summer with an orc carpenter who had the most beautiful red eyes and skin so pale he couldn’t go out in the sun for long without burning. Caedrak hadn’t been able to see more than a foot in front of him, but he’d made the most beautiful things with his big, sensitive hands…

Dammit, Daethir, pull yourself the fuck together.

In the distance, the Draugr Death Lord huffed in irritation, then shuffled away in the opposite direction, and the figure behind him relaxed.

“Before I let go of you, I need you to swear something,” the voice said.

It was a strange voice. Although it was as dry as the coarsest sands from Elsweyr, the consonants were crisply articulated, and it had a strange lilt to it, as though the speaker was used to the music of another language from another age. Karsi spoke a bit like that too, though nowhere near as much as this. Daethir, raised in the Ratway of Riften, spoke like a gutter-skeever with the brash accent to match.

Still with the person’s hand clamped across his mouth, he couldn't do much to respond beyond a little noncommittal shrug, and received a dry chuckle in response.

“Fine,” his saviour said with an evident smile, “When I release you, walk forward and do not look back.”

That… That was not what he’d been expecting. And the way the person spoke seemed so heartbreakingly sad that he felt his own chest constrict for a moment. He floundered a little, and, perhaps mistaking the movement for panic, his saviour set his feet back down on the ground.

Slowly, hesitantly, those spider-pale hands drew back, and of course, Daethir immediately turned around.

And screamed.

Flailing, he staggered back into the corridor that had so recently been vacated by the Death Lord, and fell hard onto his backside, sprawled on the damp ground and staring up at the emaciated corpse of another draugr.

Searing, sapphire blue eyes blazed out of a face devoid of all colour, so much so that for a heartbeat, Daethir thought he was looking at a skeleton, except this person still had flesh and muscle on their frame, even if it had all been withered away over time to white leather stretched over bone.

Pale lips pulled back off perfect teeth in a grimace, and white, barely-there eyebrows tugged into a hurt expression so profound that Daethir found himself suddenly silenced by it.

Then, because he was apparently pathologically incapable of keeping his mouth shut, he blurted, “Shit, I’m sorry, I just –”

At a croaking shout of triumph from the connecting tunnel, the pale draugr’s head twitched around and it let out a snarl of its own. “No time. Come on,” and with that, it surged forwards, grabbed Daethir by the wrist and hauled him to his feet with a strength that he would never have expected from a creature so thin.

Unlike the other draugr he’d encountered on his way down into the depths of the tomb – the ones who’d stumbled around and dragged their bare feet along like stiff, empty Dwarven automata – this one was nimble and lithe, and it wore a loose, undyed linen shift that was belted at the waist and fell halfway down its emaciated thighs. Its feet were bare though, and as it turned and yanked him down a corridor, Daethir had to duck beneath a long, white plait that swung behind it like a flailing ship’s rope in a high wind.

“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming, ow!” he yelped, trying to keep his feet in the same frantic rhythm while also attempting to twist free of the vice-strong grip of the creature’s fingers.

“Do not fall behind,” the draugr rasped, and then let go.

“You’ll show me the way out?” he chirped hopefully, and the draugr glanced back over its shoulder.

“I’ll take you to –” its eyes went wide and for a moment, Daethir thought the creature had tripped because it turned back abruptly and shoved him hard in the chest, sending him reeling. Daethir’s shoulder struck the tunnel wall and he let out an ‘oof’ of surprise on impact, but a second later, an ebony war axe embedded itself in the damp, softly crumbling stone of a mortuary shelf.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, staring at the weapon.

“Run! This way,” the strange, pale draugr gasped, and Daethir followed blindly.

Something seemed to ripple and shimmer in the wall up ahead, and a blue light pulsed in the draugr’s hand as they charged towards the rockface. The creature seemed to be running straight at the section of wall that was warping disturbingly and Daethir’s feet slowed.

“Don’t stop! Through the doorway, quick!” the draugr barked.

“What doorway?!” he yelped, skidding to a stop a few paces behind the apparently mad draugr. “You’re nuts. This place has sent you round the bed. That’s a solid fucking wall right there, I’m not –”

“Come on!” the creature hissed in obvious frustration. It was unnervingly similar to the tone of voice Karsi took with him when he was exasperated, and Daethir was being stupid or stubborn (or both) about something.

When Daethir didn’t move, and the footsteps and continuous cursing in a language he couldn't understand drifted round the corner from the fast-approaching Death Lord, the odd, silver-haired draugr rolled its eerie, blue eyes and snatched his hand again.

With a yell of horror and surprise, Daethir was tugged forwards into the wall. He closed his eyes, expecting to be slammed into solid stonework, and was amazed when he found himself staggering right into the chest of the draugr, who nudged him to stand behind its back while it worked some kind of magic on the wall or portal.

“The fuck…?” he breathed, chest heaving.

The draugr, still holding his right hand, worked a spell with its left, and the doorway in the wall vanished and returned to looking like uninterrupted rock.

“That’s never going to fool a draugr,” Daethir said, eyeing the spot sceptically.

“Fooled you,” the creature quipped and turned to face him, releasing its hold on his hand.

Daethir opened and closed his mouth like a landed carp for a good three seconds before heat flooded his tanned face and he looked away. “So, what, we’re safe now? And what the fuck are you?”

“Direct, aren’t you?” the creature said archly, and hell, if it didn’t remind Daethir of Karsi’s dry sarcasm.

At that thought, another bolt of guilt lanced through his chest and he looked up at the draugr. It wasn’t surprising that the draugr was taller than he was – it was hard not to be taller than Daethir, provided that one was over the age of about fifteen. He tried out his best smile and hoped it stuck. “It’s one of my many charms. Please, don’t let it stop you from showing me how to get out of this charming tomb you call home.”

The draugr’s soft laugh was like a handful of dry, autumn leaves, rattling around the narrow space that surrounded the two of them. It soon died though, and he let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Oh no,” Daethir said, backing up a pace. “I don’t like the sound of that. You are going to show me the way out now, right?”

Slowly, the creature nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Great. Let’s move the fuck along, shall we? I’ve got a vampire waiting for me outside who will probably thrall me into complete obedience for a week for disappearing and scaring him witless, and I’d rather not make it two if I can help it. Not that I mind him thralling me, quite the contrary actually, but two weeks is a long time to spend as a puppet, even if I do get the most toe-curling orgasms out of it. Fuck, I’m running my mouth. I do that when I’m nervous, and the way you’re just staring at me like I’m some kind of hitherto-unknown species of cave mushroom that’s suddenly gained sentience is unnerving. Also you never answered my question: what the fuck are you? And are we safe now?”

The draugr blinked. “Did you hit your head?”

“Beg pardon?” he asked, and reflexively brought his hand to the back of his head to search for blood or injury in his light brown hair. When he found none, it dawned on him that the question might have been rhetorical, and he pouted. “Oh, it’s funny too. Great. I found the only draugr in all of Tamriel with a sense of humour. You are a draugr, right? Because the whole ‘mummified and still walking around’ thing is usually a dead giveaway. If you’ll pardon the pun. Man, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” the draugr said. “And yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, you are, and yes, I am.”

“I am what?”

“Running your mouth again, as you put it. And I am a draugr.”

“Oh. Fuck. Well, let’s crack on then, eh?” he chirped with a nervous little laugh, gesturing behind him up what appeared to be a narrow, upward-sloping tunnel. “Lead on to freedom, and all that. You can fill me in on the way.”

The creature gave a little snort of laughter and shook its head. Sections of white hair had come loose from its braid and dangled down into its glowing, blue eyes which gave it an altogether softer, dishevelled look. It cast a couple of glowing balls of light, with which Daethir was familiar from Karsi’s magic, and they floated away up the tunnel like dandelion puffs on the wind.

Following the magelights, the draugr stepped around Daethir in the narrow tunnel, and as it passed, Daethir caught the soft scents of leather and parchment and incense, and the faint crackle of ozone that hovered around Karsi too.

“You’re a mage?” he asked to break the thick silence that had flooded into the tunnel when the draugr had fallen quiet again.

“Mm.”

“And you are definitely a draugr?”

“Mn.”

“You’re… different… from the others…” he said, inviting the draugr to expand on the statement.

“Mmm.”

“You suddenly run out of words? What happened to Mr. Funny Undead from a minute ago? Wait, that was rude. I have no idea whether you’re a ‘mister’ or something else entirely. I’m sorry.”

At that, the creature gave another grinding chuckle and halted to look back at Daethir. “I am male, if that’s your question. My name is Nýráðr.”

The way his tongue trilled over the ‘r’ and ‘th’ sounds sent a thrill through Daethir’s whole body. “Neer-ath-ur,” he repeated, frowning. “That’s… It sounds elven, but… I’ve never heard it before.”

“It’s old,” he replied, and Daethir got the impression that there was some dark humour in his tone that was lost on the relatively young Bosmer. “If it’s too much of a mouthful for you, you can just call me Nyr.”

“Right. I’m Daethir.”

“You are a Wood Elf, are you not?”

“Yup, though I’m not the ‘live in the woods in my underwear and commune with squirrels’ kind of Wood Elf, so don’t go making assumptions.”

The laugh that fluttered out of Nyr was like ripping parchment, but it sounded full of unexpected delight all the same. Centuries, even millennia, as a slowly-desiccating draugr had wrought a heck of a lot of damage on the creature’s whole body by the look of it, and from the sound of things, his vocal cords hadn’t escaped unscathed either. Daethir mused that perhaps he would have had a voice as smooth and haunting as Karsi did when he had been fully alive, and something twinged in his chest at the creature’s loss.

“Well,” the draugr said, “Since we’re not making assumptions about each other, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t assume I was a mindless drone like all my fellow animated corpses down here.”

“I thought I’d already made it abundantly clear that I don’t think that,” Daethir scowled. “And you were the one who implied I had no more brains than a Death Lord…”

“You were the one who thought I was going to ram you into a wall,” Nyr countered, glancing back over his shoulder. This time, as he moved, Daethir caught sight of his pale, very tapered ear and his footsteps halted abruptly.

With his eyes wide, he stared at the elven shape of the draugr’s ear and his jaw dropped.

“What?” Nyr asked, stopping too and turning properly to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re… an elf,” he blurted stupidly, and then went on in a slightly hysterical ramble. “I mean, the name should have given it away, but… holy shit, you’re an elf! I thought draugr were all human. I mean, the Nordic kings who built these tombs were… you know, humans, and they were famous for killing everything that didn’t have a perfectly rounded ear, and they had human courts and human servants and subjects, and what the fuck?” His voice ended in a little squeak as he ran out of breath.

A slow, sad smile crept onto Nyr’s sunken features, and he sighed. “I am an elf, you’re right. Are you so far removed from my time that our story has been forgotten? Did not the Atmorans start out as our friends and allies only to betray us and subjugate us instead?”

“The Night of Tears,” Daethir exhaled, reeling.

In the cold blue glow of Nyr’s magelight, the draugr’s face settled into a frown. “I… I don’t know what that is.”

“You must have died before that all went down then,” he said, trying to scrape together what he remembered of it from Karsi’s impromptu fireside history lessons. “Shit. It was a massacre. Snow Elves descended on the human city of Saarthal in the north one night. After years of uneasy peace, they slaughtered everyone and, rumour has it, took or locked away something of great power beneath the city. After that, the humans retaliated and began the systematic genocide of all the Snow Elves in Tamriel.”

The draugr swayed and staggered, catching himself with a hand on the wall before he could collapse completely, and he stared wild-eyed at him. “They’re… They’re all gone?” he hissed, his bony chest rising and falling in fast, shallow gasps. “There are no more of us?”

“Us?” he asked, and then he really saw the white hair and colourless skin, and he understood at last. “Holy shit, you’re a Snow Elf?”

Mute, he just barely managed a nod.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I should have realised and told you more gently. Karsi would have realised what you are immediately. I’m sorry,” he said, and stepped closer, closing his hand around the bare, bony forearm of the elven draugr.

“None of us…?” he asked, unable to finish the question.

“Not as far as I know,” Daethir said, much more gently this time.

He squeezed Nyr’s forearm and felt the bones shift beneath, and barely resisted the urge to jerk away in surprise. Even with his small hands, he could close his thumb and fingers around Nyr’s emaciated forearm. This close up, he could also see the way his collarbones stuck out beneath the open ‘v’ of his linen tunic’s neck, and his hollow cheeks looked all the more gaunt in the blue light that cast harsh shadows down over them. Even so, there was a cut-glass beauty to the creature with his high cheekbones and elegant jawline.

“I’m sorry, Nyr.”

The Snow Elf swallowed, blinked glassy eyes, and looked down at the point where Daethir was touching him. For a long moment, he stared, and Daethir wondered if he shouldn’t have been so forward, but the draugr gave another wheezing sigh and placed his left hand over Daethir’s and squeezed gently.

“Nothing lasts forever,” he whispered. The sound of it was like a winter wind in bare branches, and Daethir shivered. He felt like cold hands were scraping down his spine.

“What will happen to you now?” Daethir asked, still holding onto the draugr. Nyr’s body was warm – far warmer than Karsi’s undead vampire body – and his skin was supple and unbelievably soft. He’d always expected draugr to be fragile and papery, like mildewed parchment, or slimy and rotten, but Nyr was neither. He had just wasted away over time. Daethir wondered exactly how much time he’d spent alone in the dark down here, with nothing but shuffling, insentient corpses for company, and his heart went out to him. The last of his species, and confined in the tomb of his oppressors for generations while the world went on without him. “Nýráðr?”

At the sound of his full name on Daethir’s tongue, the draugr startled softly and offered him a smile that went all the way up to the corners of his kindly eyes. “If I am not caught in the next few days, the Death Lord will forget about all of this. They’re not terribly bright, after all.”

Daethir narrowed his eyes. “That means you think I’m not terribly bright, if I was as easily fooled as a fucking draugr. No offence, you know,” he added with a pointed look up and down at the draugr in front of him.

Nyr’s grip on his hand tightened for a fraction before he let go and dropped his arm, laughing quietly, that autumn rattle back in his voice. “None taken,” he said, turning to continue leading Daethir up the passage. “And in my defence, you should have been able to see through that enchantment. It really wasn’t very strong. It doesn’t have to be to keep the majority of my fellow tomb-dwellers out.”

“I’m not exactly proficient at seeing magic,” Daethir mumbled. “Can’t cast a spark myself, and scrolls are… unpredictable. Even the ones idiot Nords with no magic are supposed to be able to use,” he added morosely.

“Elves with no magic whatsoever were not common in my time, but not unheard of. I apologise. I shouldn’t have made fun of you for it.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he huffed. “Karsi is always taking the piss out of me for it. He’s pretty adept at magic – could run rings around most of the stuffy old mages at the College of Winterhold. Even the Archmage, if you believe him. He does think quite highly of himself though, so it’s hard to tell.”

After a lilting pause in which only the sound of their soft footfalls could be heard, Nyr said, “You’re fond of this ‘Karsi’.”

“Fond? Fond doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m besotted. Head over heels. Enraptured by. Enamoured of. Utterly fucking smitten.” He did his best to emulate, and perhaps exaggerate, Karsi’s refined, educated way of speaking while he rattled off a list of synonyms for ‘completely fucking whipped’.

Again, Nyr gave a rasping chuckle. “You don’t sound terribly thrilled about that.”

“Of course I’m ‘not terribly thrilled’ about that!” he exclaimed, gesturing up in the air with his hands. “The bloke’s a century-old vampire whose more educated than most princes, he’s elegant as fuck, can talk me into a stupor in a single sentence, and is more beautiful than all the Divines.”

“How is any of that a bad thing?” Nyr asked, still sounding amused by Daethir’s petulance over the matter.

“Well, you might have been starved for beauty down here in the dark for a billion years, so I can see why my face might look like it was carved by a devotee of Dibella, Goddess of Love and Sex and Beauty,” he said with deep sarcasm, “But if you’d seen a single other living soul that didn’t resemble the back end of a raisin, you’d realise that next to literally anyone else, I’m about as ordinary as it gets. I’m ignorant as fuck about lots of things. I can’t do magic. All I’m good for is sneaking about, cutting purses, breaking into places I shouldn’t be, and hitting a target dead-centre at a hundred paces with a tiny piece of steel.”

It was only when he’d finished insulting the draugr that lived down here that he remembered who and what his companion was, and he fell into an awkward silence. Then, because he couldn’t bear it a second longer, he tacked on an apology that was way too late. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you’re like them. You’re not.”

“It’s alright,” he said softly. The sound was like a stone dragging across the tunnel floor. “I know what I am and what I look like by now.”

“Yeah, but you’re not like the other draugr I’ve seen.”

“Oh, goody. What a comfort it is to know that I’ll win the Annual Draugr Beauty Contest for another year in a row,” he said with caustic sarcasm.

Before Daethir could recover from the unexpected and well-deserved reprimand, the draugr rounded the corner in the steadily-rising tunnel and they came to an elaborate, carved stone door that abruptly halted their journey.

Pressing his emaciated palm against a point at the centre of the labyrinthine tangle of patterns, the draugr let his icy blue magic pour out of him and it ran through the channels of the maze like water, flowing all the way across to form a tapestry of blue and grey until, with a dull, grinding noise, the door opened slowly outwards, and a blast of freezing, snow-filled air rushed in.

The wind lifted Nyr’s white hair off his face and Daethir stared as moonlight inked silver brushstrokes across his high cheekbones and down his straight nose and delicate jawline.

For a moment, neither of them moved as the night opened up around them, but Daethir knew he had to make up for his inadvertently cruel comments, so he stepped close to the draugr and reached his hand out to cup his colourless cheek.

Nyr’s searing blue eyes fluttered closed and he sucked in a sharp breath, going rigid beneath Daethir’s touch. He traced his thumb across the Snow Elf’s high, arching cheekbone and murmured, “You really are exquisite.” He meant it too. “Thank you for saving my life, Nýráðr. I will never forget you, nor your kindness to me.”

Like a cat long-starved of affection, Nyr tipped his head into Daethir’s palm and nuzzled him once. The longing in his gaunt face cut Daethir to the quick, but he stepped back and opened his eyes. “Nor I you, Daethir,” he said in a scraping rasp.

Then his blue gaze sailed over Daethir’s head – not exactly a difficult task, given how much taller the Snow Elf was than the diminutive Bosmer – and he smiled. “Karsi, I take it?” he said dryly.

Daethir turned and had the fleeting impression of a figure standing beside a small, smouldering campfire outside the main entrance of the tomb, eyes blazing red, before the image disintegrated into a twisting swarm of black bats and Karsi reappeared right in front of Daethir, his face burning like a vengeful spirit.

“By Molag Bal’s unholy blood,” he cursed, gripping Daethir by the shoulders and lifting him away from Nyr as though he were a child that had strayed too close to a firepit. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?!” His tone was frantic and his eyes blazed red as he unleashed all his pent-up rage and fear. Then he turned with a snarl on Nyr and bared his fangs at him, putting himself between the two of them.

Magicka boiled to life in his hands, scarlet as blood and shifting eerily in the icy moonlight, and Daethir thrashed in his grip. “No! No! Karsi, no, don’t! Don’t! He saved my life, Karsi, don’t hurt him! Shit, Karsi! Fucking listen to me you overgrown, underfed leech!”

Karsi’s head snapped back to Daethir and he froze, then loosened his grip on Daethir’s leather jerkin. “That’s a draugr,” he said flatly, as if Daethir had lost his wits down in the tomb.

“Ten out of ten for observation,” Daethir sneered, looking around Karsi’s figure to meet Nyr’s gaze. “I told you he was the smart one.”

“So you did,” Nyr said dryly. He swallowed and stepped back into the shadows of the doorway, and Karsi flew at him.

The moment he hit the threshold, Karsi collided with a magical barrier and rebounded as if he’d hit a solid wall. He grunted and hissed like a wet cat, shaking himself out and rounding on Nyr again. “Why would a draugr help an intruder instead of attacking?”

Daethir blinked. It had never occurred to him to ask that question. He really was fucking simple.

Nyr’s lips twitched into his sad smile. “I couldn’t bear to see a fellow elf spend his eternity in the tomb of a human king who had been so cruel to our kind. Take care of him, Karsi,” he said, and turned away.

The door didn’t immediately close, so Daethir did something that was so perfectly in-keeping with his track record of uninhibited stupidity, and darted after him before Karsi had realised what he was doing.

The vampire snatched for him and roared in wordless fury when Daethir’s jerkin slipped through his fingers behind the impenetrable barrier and he heard the weight of compulsion in Karsi’s words as he added, “Daethir, come back here right now!”

“Doesn’t work if I'm not looking at you!” Daethir shot back merrily over his shoulder and was answered with another impotent yowl of fury from his lover.

Nyr had stopped and was frowning in confusion at him. “What are you doing?” he asked. His voice was even softer now, as though talking so much had strained his fragile vocal cords to their limit and even Daethir’s sharp ears nearly missed the question.

“I… I’m not sure,” he said honestly.

“Go, Daethir,” Nyr said gently. “Go with Karsi and put this place out of your mind.”

“I’m not sure I can,” he breathed. “I… Do you have to stay here? Are you trapped by the barrier that’s keeping Karsi out? Wait, no, you just passed through it. Fuck, I’m so stupid sometimes,” he said, smacking his forehead with his palm.

Nyr stepped closer and drew Daethir’s hand away from his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Karsi roared at him from the mouth of the tunnel. “Get your filthy corpse hands off him! I swear by all the blood in my body and all the blood I’ve ever taken in the unholy sacrament of feeding that I will rip you apart and scatter your remains to the wolves if you don’t unhand him!”

“Ignore him,” Daethir snorted at Nyr without looking around. “He’s always had a terrible flare for the dramatic, and it only gets worse when he’s like that.”

“He’s worried for you,” Nyr smiled, and he let go. “Cherish it.”

“Tolerate it, more like,” Daethir said with a sigh. “But yeah. Do you have to stay here?”

“Look at me, Daethir. Where else could I go? I’m the last of my race, if what you say is true, and you will probably be the first and only person not to take one look at me and decide I must be destroyed on the spot.” He jutted his delicate chin towards the tunnel mouth where Karsi was pacing and snarling with bared fangs, his eyes locked on the pair of them. “He’s already proven my point.”

“Pfft, you’re not that special. He’s like that with anyone he thinks is a threat to me, and with how often I get myself in a pickle, trust me, that’s quite a lot of people. It’s nothing personal.”

“It very much is personal, you dim-witted Wood Elf!” Karsi spat, though it came out as affectionately petulant now, rather than truly fearful. “Would you please, darling, love and light of my life, back away from that thing and come back out here to join me?” Sarcasm dripped so tangibly off his tone that Daethir could practically taste it.

He sighed and continued to ignore the vampire.

“Come with us. If you’re not bound to this place, come with us.”

“Why?”

“See the world? See what’s changed since you went in there,” he said, jerking his thumb down the passageway. “Get away from the shitty Nords who imprisoned you in there for all eternity –”

“-- Nords aren’t shitty anymore?” Nyr asked, surprised.

“Oh, no, they’re shittier than ever, especially to us elves, but –”

From behind him, Karsi sputtered. “‘Us’ elves?”

“Shut up. You’re a Nord, Karsi, so you don’t get a say in this,” Daethir barked without bite.

They heard Karsi’s inhalation of surprise, even above the wind that whistled around the mountaintop tomb. “He’s an elf? Daethir, the Nords who made the draugr would never have used elves for draugr servants. They thought they were animals!”

“Worse than animals, actually,” Nyr said with a sharp smile. “They enslaved us. We weren’t even afforded the same dignity you’d give a dog.”

Karsi fell still and silent at that and stood staring for a long time. Finally, he breathed, “That hair…” He let his red gaze slide up and down Nyr’s skeletally thin body and then added, “You’re a Snow Elf.”

With a quiet dignity, Nýráðr bowed his head with closed eyes.

Daethir watched his lover for a long time, sensing the kind of thoughts that would be racing through that scholar’s head of his. Making a silent ‘wait there’ gesture to Nyr, he turned and went back to Karsi.

The vampire’s eyes were unfocused, now staring unseeing at the floor near the doorway to the tomb.

“Karse…?” Karsi truly hated that nickname because it was the word for a small, edible plant that went well with egg sandwiches in some highborn circles, and sure enough, it snapped him immediately out of his reverie.

His upper lip twitched but his eyes faded from red to gold. That he wasn’t bothering with the glamour which he usually wore around himself like an old cloak was testament to how rattled he was. He sighed and lifted his eyes from Daethir to Nyr, who was still standing, much to Daethir’s relief, in the tunnel, watching them and silent as a silver spectre.

“Think of all the questions you could ask him, Karsi,” Daethir insisted quietly. “You could annoy him into a second undeath with them all.”

Karsi’s mouth lifted at one corner into an amused smile despite himself. Then he looked down at Daethir and his eyes filled with tears. He brought both hands to Daethir’s jaw and choked, “You scared the shit out of me, love.”

“I know,” Daethir replied, placing his hands on Karsi’s waist. His heavy, wine-red robes were lashed around his slim middle with a thick band of black silk, into which was tucked a ruby-hilted dagger, and Daethir felt its cold bite against the bare inside of his wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m here though, and it’s entirely because of Nyr. He saved me from a Death Lord, and then when I freaked out over him being a draugr too, he saved me all over again and led me through a wall and then up here. To you. I’m alive because of him.”

He paused and tilted his head sideways in a way that he saved for special occasions just like that one: unfortunate situations (usually of his own making) when he needed Karsi to be thoroughly wrapped around his little finger and eating out of his hand and helplessly unable to say no.

Karsi swallowed.

“I owe him my life, Karsi. You owe him my life. Shouldn’t we give him another chance at living too? Let him come with us…”

Karsi’s right eyelid twitched, and although he hadn’t uttered a word, Daethir knew he had him.

He popped up onto his tiptoes, pecked the vampire on the cheek, and scuttled back to Nyr in the dark tunnel.

He took the draugr by both hands and backed up towards the doorway, and to his surprise, Nyr followed. His movements were soft, graceful and fluid as a dancer, and Daethir thought again how strangely beautiful this creature was.

Nyr stopped just shy of the threshold though, and met Karsi’s eye. He let go of Daethir’s hands and lowered his arms to his sides. Something wordless seemed to pass between the two that Daethir couldn’t unpick, and he looked from one to the other in helpless confusion.

“Kay?” he chirped after a moment. “Nyr?”

Finally, Karsi drew in a long breath, held it, and then let it go in a rush. “Do you have anything you wish to bring with you?” he asked and Daethir almost yipped with the sudden rush of joy that bubbled up inside him. He hadn’t quite dared believe it until then.

It was the same kind of excitement and trepidation he felt at the start of a new journey. No matter how many times he and Karsi had set off to find some new book or scroll or sacred offering pot, he felt the exact same flare of unbridled, effervescent joy, and now as he looked between the two undead creatures before him, he felt it again.

“If I go back down there now, I will not come out again,” Nyr said in a barely there rasp. “The Death Lords will all know by now what I did, and how I betrayed them to get Daethir out. They will forget in a week perhaps, but I would have to conceal myself, and Daethir would freeze to death up here waiting, even with a fire.”

Daethir paused and watched Karsi’s expression as the realisation dawned on the vampire of the risk Nyr had taken to get his lover out alive. Then, he surprised Daethir by raising the inside of his left wrist – the side closest to his now-silent heart – to his canines and biting his own vein, sending droplets of his precious blood spattering onto the snow rimed stone at his feet. With ritualistic intonation, he said, “You’re right. I owe you the life of my beloved. By my blood I swear to do you no harm, and to protect you to the best of my abilities until my death or such time as you release me from my oath.”

Daethir’s eyebrows shot up. He’d never heard Karsi speak like that, and he’d certainly never given a blood oath to anyone, not that Daethir knew of anyway. Astonished, he looked at Nyr.

The draugr stepped out of the doorway and around the small pool of blood that sparkled like a handful of rubies cushioned on the snow. He tilted his head slightly to one side, and smiled. “I shall do my utmost to be worthy of such an oath, vampire.” The word came out like an honorific, not an insult.

For the space of ten heartbeats – twenty, if Daethir’s pounding pulse was the cadence by which such measurements were to be judged – no one moved or spoke. Finally, Karsi turned away and walked towards the fire, his long black hair blowing loose in the wind. He looked softer now, the tension melting from his shoulders, but Daethir knew his lover to the core, and he still bore some internal struggle.

Daethir made a mental note to question him about it later, and then turned to Nyr. “Where to now?” he asked.

“I will follow where you lead, Daethir.”

At that, Daethir sucked air in through his teeth in a comical grimace. “Terrible choice,” he grinned. “Luckily for you, I follow where Karsi leads, and Karsi is full of excellent ideas and great judgement.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” Karsi said over his shoulder as he stalked six paces ahead of them. “I just gave a blood oath to a draugr. You’ve rotted my brain with your company, Dae.”

Daethir grinned again and elbowed Nyr in his ribs. “You’re gonna fit right in, I just know it.”

Nyr smiled faintly and it was only then that Daethir realised that the draugr was still wearing just a linen shift and no boots.

“Shit, Nyr, you must be freezing!”

“I’m not going to die of exposure, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Karsi snorted faintly, looking surprisingly amused until Daethir told him to take his own coat off and give it to Nyr, which he flat-out refused to do.

“You can’t expect him to walk around barefoot, Karse!”

“He can strip one of the bandits in the entrance for armour,” Karsi shot back, gesturing at the main door to the tomb. “It’s not like they need it. I swore to protect him, not divest myself for his comfort.”

Without a word, Nyr left in the direction Karsi had pointed, and a few minutes later, he returned wearing the black mage robes of one of the frozen corpses just inside the door, with a long fur-trimmed cloak that caught the wind and flapped like bat’s wings, and tall, black leather boots cuffed with soft fur. The cloak had a hood, which he pulled up over his head, and with the shadows it cast, he almost looked unremarkable save for that long, silver braid that hung elegantly down over one shoulder. With those new clothes on, he looked thin, yes, but not undead. Until Daethir met his blue eyes.

“Karsi, can you cast a glamour on him or something? Like the one you use? He shouldn’t have to worry about every last person we meet trying to hack his head off.”

The vampire nodded, and crossed their frozen campsite to meet him halfway. “If I may?” he asked, raising his right hand. Black and red magicka bubbled into his palm and Nyr eyed it warily, but nodded once.

“I can do it myself,” he added, “But I think you’re a stronger mage than I, and you have more experience with alteration magic, I’m sure.”

Karsi just grunted something and circled his fingertips over Nyr’s face. In place of the haunted, sunken eyes and gaunt, hollow cheeks of a corpse, a beautiful, porcelain face stared out from under the hood, and the undead, blue glow of his eyes faded to the forget-me-not blue of a wild meadow in summer.

“Holy shit, Karsi,” Daethir exhaled. “You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

The vampire rolled his eyes and cast the same spell on his own face, and the black sclera faded to white, and the gold deepened to a warm brown, and Daethir tried not to mourn the loss of the ‘otherness’ in his two companions.

“Karsi?”

��Mn?”

“Can you… Can you make it so that I can see you both?”

“Without affecting the way others view us?” he clarified, and Daethir nodded. He looked to Nyr for his opinion, and when the draugr just shrugged, seeming almost curious about whether such a clause could be written into a spell like that, especially after it had already been woven, Karsi took it for the challenge it undoubtedly was, and made another gesture at the side of Nyr’s face.

The face of a draugr stared back at him once again, and Daethir beamed. “I fucking love magic,” he laughed, and to his surprise, Nyr laughed too, shaking his head. “Do you mind? I mean, I was pretty rude about draugr a while ago, but I really didn’t mean to include you in it.”

“What, when you called my kind ‘the wrong end of a raisin’ or thereabouts?” he said, arching an eyebrow.

Karsi burst out laughing, and the sound was so loud and honest and off-guard that all three of them began to laugh. It took a lot to make Karsi laugh like that, and the sound of it filled Daethir’s heart to bursting.

He looped his arm through Nyr’s elbow and then dragged him round so he could stick his other arm under Karsi’s, and he dragged the two of them towards the fire and their discarded travel packs.

“Come on,” he said, glancing up at the two of them. They were almost a match in heights, he noted from about a foot below them. “Let’s put this place behind us. Karsi, what was the next item on our list?”

“The Lunarstone Chalice,” he said dryly. “Last rumoured to be in a ruined temple in the mountains north of Markarth.”

“Ooh, Markarth. My favourite place in all the world,” Daethir chimed sarcastically, unlinking both arms so he could gesture grandly while walking backwards. “Second only to Windhelm in its snobbery towards elven kind, and the whole area is bristling with rabid, frothing lunatics called the ‘Forsworn’. Can’t think of a place I’d like to start Nyr’s tour of Tamriel more than bloody fucking Markarth.”

And then he caught his heel on a flagstone and pitched backwards with a sharp cry of surprise, only to find hands shooting out to catch him on either side.

Nyr and Karsi hauled him upright before he landed ass-first on the icy stone, and Daethir grinned up at both of them.

“Alright,” Nyr said in his hoarse croak. “Let’s begin.”

If there's interest in these three, I'll happily add it to my 'to work on' list. Consider letting me know you enjoyed it by reblogging it or leaving a comment/ask.

Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

(if you enjoyed this draugr/lich boy, you might also like this story, featuring an altogether more shy and retiring draugr named Kalle, and the adventurer who falls in love with him over several visits to his tomb - m/f pairing).

#lich #draugr #vampire #elf #wood elf #bosmer #skyrim #skyrim story #skyrim oc #you don't need to know skyrim to read this though #polyamory #m/m/m

199 notes · View notes

eds6ngel · 11 months

Note

Hello love! I was wondering if you could do Eddie and a girl new to Hawkins High! Maybe just like Eddie shows her around the school and the town and they develop a little crush on each other and start dating??

hi my love! i absolutely adored this ask, so this fic is a lot longer than my others, but i hope you enjoy regardless <3

warnings: fem!reader. sunshine!reader. cheerleader!reader. fem descriptions of clothing. blushing mentioned, so lighter skinned (i apologise :’)). enemies to lovers-ish. wayne mention!! (we love wayne). mentions of eddie’s past. lil bit of hurt. mostly comfort. tooth-rotting fluff. kissing. food mention. j*son c*rver mention [6.5k].

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans out frustratedly, “She’s literally new. Why wouldn’t she show up early?”

Eddie was currently sitting in Principal Higgins office, waiting for a new student to arrive at Hawkins High. Due to apparent “bad behaviour” Eddie’s punishment was to befriend and guide the new student around the school.

“You’ve been here for six years, Edward. You should know this place very well to help our new student feel welcomed,” is what Higgins told him when he shared said news. Why wouldn’t he get someone like Jason Carver to guide her? That prick would do anything to get another girl wrapped around his finger to join his basketball cult.

But, Eddie didn’t want to do this, not one bit. Which is exactly why Higgins set him up with the task. Thank God he was on track to graduating this year. He doesn’t think he could take another year of Higgins’ shenanigans.

“Mr. Munson, please calm down,” Higgins asks him sternly, “This is your mandatory punishment. My other option was to expel you for the rest of the week, but I assumed you wouldn’t want that, considering that would’ve definitely prevented you from graduating.”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face as he leans back in the green leather chair. Higgins was right after all, he would take anything over staying at this shithole for another year.

Another five minutes pass, Eddie practically staring at his watch the entire time, before a faint knock is heard at the door.

“Hi!” you beam, “Ms. Lockwood at the front desk said I should come down to your office, so here I am,” you giggle.

Eddie looked up and down at you, taking in your yellow sundress and white sneakers, your hair styled in two pigtails, and minimal make-up on your face. He just knew you were going to be extremely annoying. So incredibly happy all the time, the most aggravating type of woman he could know.

“Ah, yes! Ms. L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Principal Higgins says, getting out of his chair and shaking your hand, you reciprocating with a smile on your face.

“Eddie,” he turns to him, “This is the new student. Eddie, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Eddie.”

You wave to him, “Hi Eddie! It’s nice to meet you!”

Yeah, annoying was definitely an appropriate description.

“Yeah… good to meet you too,” he grumbles, slowly rising from his seat, the glint in Higgins’ eyes showing his patience running thin.

“Right. I’m going to let you two go,” Higgins says with a clap of his hands, “Eddie, don’t turn her into a troublemaker, I don’t need another one of you in my school.”

“Don’t worry Higs,” he replies with a sarcastic smile, “Miss. L/N here will become the most perfect student Hawkins High has ever seen with the benefit of my gracious help,” he pats you on the shoulder.

Principal Higgins shakes his head and sighs, “All right. Off you go, you two.”

The two of you turn and leave his office, Higgins flopping down into his seat and mumbling to himself, “Should’ve just expelled the boy.”

“So, uh…” Eddie begins, “What class do you have first?”

“World History,” you begin to ramble, “It’s probably my second favourite class. Well, at least it was at my old school, I don’t know what it is like here. I just find it so interesting to learn about how different countries have operated in the past and how we worked together to combat and build the world we live in today. Like, we were fighting with Germany only forty years ago and now we’re pretty much on good terms! It’s crazy how little time can change how we interact as a society.”

Eddie walks beside you with a straight face the entire time. My God, would you ever shut up? He had to refrain from rolling his eyes the entire time.

“Cool, cool…” he replies, quite frankly shutting his brain off after you told him what class you were in. “Well, I have Math… Calculus, to be specific. What other classes do you have today?”

“Oh, my favourite ever class I have second period which is English!” you beam, opening the front pocket of your backpack and pulling out the sheet of paper which was your schedule. You point to the Wednesday timings, “And then I have lunch, then Drama, which I’m not the best at, but that’s okay! And then finally I have Chemistry. Which if there was any class I’d rather not have, it would be Chem, but not everything can go our way in life, right?”

“Yeah, right…”

“What’s your favourite class, Eddie?” you ask, looking up into his eyes smiling.

“Oh, uh… English, I suppose,” he mumbles out, “All depends on what we do in English though. What book we study and shit.”

You giggle at his answer, “You’re pretty quiet, you know that? I’m not scary, I don’t bite. Sure, I’ve been told I come off as a bit much, but that’s just me!”

“Yeah, you could say that…” he grumbles. “Anyway,” he clears his throat, “That’s your room.”

He signals to the door as he looks at the floor, scuffing his feet along the white tiles.

“Thank you, Eddie!” you say with a grin. “Is it okay if I ask you to meet me here when class is over?” you ask, “I haven’t really had the chance to map out this place yet.”

“Uh, yeah… Sure,” he replies, secretly thinking that this would earn him bonus points from Higgins.

“Thank you, you’re the best!” you bounce, giving him a hug as you turn around and enter the classroom, “See you later, Eddie!”

He froze to the spot when you hugged him. Not only did you not stop talking, but you were brave enough to instantly wrap your arms around his neck as if you’d been friends for years. He already knew he was going to hate you, and yet he was probably stuck being your first friend in a new town. Just great.

He lifts his hand up in a wave and watched you sit next to Chrissy Cunningham in the classroom, praying to God that you two would get along instantly so he wasn’t trapped with you.

But, as he arrived at your classroom at the end of first period, you saw him through the glass of the door, smiling as you waved, packing away your stationery into your backpack.

Although, you were talking to Chrissy, which was a bonus. Hopefully you two would become friends, perhaps even best friends. If so, you’d grow to despise him the same way he despised you, an absolutely perfect solution in Eddie’s eyes.

As the door swung open, Eddie was leaning against the lockers just to the side of the History class door. You and Chrissy were giggling together before you wave goodbye and turned back to Eddie. “Hey! How was Calculus?”

“Pretty crap, same ‘ol boring shit,” he replies, chuckling to himself, to which you giggle too. “How was World History?”

He mentally facepalms himself. Why did he ask you how it went? You rambled enough when you brought up the topic yourself.

And ramble you did, “It’s going well! We’re learning about the Korean War. I’ve kind of missed a chunk of the content because I’ve only just joined, but that’s okay! We’re learning about the Northern and Southern zones that the United States and Soviet Union divided up. It’s pretty rad actually. Well, probably not rad for the Koreans, but you get what I mean,” you giggle once again.

“Sounds great,” he simply replies, “What class do you have next again?”

“I have English, what about you?”

Shit. That’s exactly what he had.

“Uh… I actually have English too.” If there’s one way to make English unenjoyable, it would be having you there. He used to sit in the back of the class, minding his own business, but that was now virtually impossible since it was a given that you would want to sit next to him.

“Oh great!” you gushed, “We can sit next to each other. If that’s alright with you, of course,” you check, just to make sure you aren’t overstepping anything.

“Yeah… sure,” he grumbles, knowing that this was gonna be a day from Hell.

As you enter the classroom together, you follow Eddie to his normal seat at the back, perching yourself on one of the uncomfortable metal chairs, sitting to Eddie’s right.

“So…” he breaks the silence, “What do you think of Hawkins High so far?”

“It’s not too bad,” you reply, “I met this girl Chrissy in World History, she seems pretty nice. She said she was on the cheerleading squad, which I hope I can join if possible. I was the cheer captain at my old school before I left. I know I’ll never get to be captain here being a senior and all, but being on the team would be nice nonetheless.”

A cheerleader, of course. You were one social group away from throwing death threats into his ear, and putting threatening notes inside of his locker. But, you did befriend him despite being a cheerleader before, although, you could just be putting on a fake persona to appeal to Higgins. He wouldn’t be surprised if that happened with your type.

He can’t help but scoff, “Cheerleading, huh? Surprised you aren’t gagging at my pure existence.”

You giggle at this, “People are judgemental here too, I’m assuming.”

“You could say that,” he tuts, rolling his eyes whilst looking at her.

“You know, I never got why people judge others. Like, there’s good in everyone, right? Why judge someone on the mere basis that they aren’t the same as you? Life would be boring if everybody acted the same.”

It’s like you put his thoughts into words. This is exactly the rhetoric he had been shouting from atop the cafeteria tables since he got targeted in freshman year. If only he had the potential popularity of you to speak those words for him.

“Sorry,” you embarrassingly giggle, “I got a bit carried away there.”

He looks over at you, you avoiding eye contact as you twiddle with your thumbs. You had spent the previous conversations rambling about your love for World History, but suddenly you point out the flaws of stereotypes and stigmas, and you’ve become the shyest person on the planet. It’s like you didn’t want to be confident about something that went against the mould that society had carved out for you.

“You don’t need to apologise. I’ve been saying this since the day I arrived in this shithole, I totally agree with you.”

You look up at him, “Well, it’s a shame nobody has took the time to hear you out.”

Before Eddie can say another word, Mrs. Click walks in the room, slamming her books on the table as her loud voice booms across the classroom.

At least you had one trait going for you.

“Dude, who are you staring at?” Gareth asks, shoving a piece of crunchy broccoli into his mouth, an undercooked staple from the school cafeteria.

Eddie clears his throat, “Uh… nobody. Nobody…”

The whole table turns over to where Eddie was looking, Eddie looking down and shoving another pretzel into his mouth.

“Oh, is that the new girl?” Dustin queries.

“That makes a ton more sense now,” Gareth realises, “Weren’t you supposed to be guiding her around the place?”

Eddie grumbles, “Yeah, but as you can see,” he gestures over to you standing by Chrissy, Jason and the other jocks and cheerleaders, “She’s already found her place here.”

Jeff whistles as Gareth clicks his tongue, “Damn, that’s rough man…”

Eddie shakes his head, “Nah, it’s okay. I mean,” he lightly chuckles, “She wouldn’t stop rambling anyway. Kept going on about her World History class and the divided borders of Korea or some shit. Sounds pretty boring if you ask me.”

“I mean, you’re the one who remembered, dude,” Jeff laughed, the other boys nodding along.

“Only because she wouldn’t shut up. I would’ve drowned her out if I could.”

But, that’s the thing: he did have the choice to drown you out. He could’ve stopped listening to you, ignored every word you were saying. But he didn’t, and his brain didn’t allow him to forget it. He remembered every goddamn thing you said.

“All right, class!” Mrs. Click yelled out, directing the attention of every student.

For some reason, despite some of your new jock friends being in this class, you still sat next to Eddie, much to his surprise. Maybe it was just because they already had friends to share a two-seater table with.

“Today marks the start of our new group assignment! Since we have recently started reading ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’ and we are very aware of the social context surrounding the Theory of Evolution being a key theme of the book, I would like you all in the assigned groups I will give you in a second to produce a newspaper article as someone against the book.”

“But, Miss,” Jason butts in, Eddie looking at you and rolling his eyes, you trying to contain a laugh. “This is ridiculous. I mean, most of this class disagrees with that very theory. It’s a preposterous theory! How can you suggest we do an assignment on this when it goes against our own values?”

You turn around in your seat, looking Jason in the eye, “Jason, if anything, doesn’t that help? If the task is to give alternative viewpoints in disagreement to that theory, couldn’t you use your own beliefs as a way to fuel a solid argument point?”

You quickly remember you are in the middle of a classroom when you feel all eyes staring at you, including Eddie’s, who is sat there in astonishment as you stood up to Jason.

You swivel back around and play with your thumbs as Mrs. Click says, “Miss. L/N has a brilliant point there, Jason. Besides, this is a mandatory assignment. Like you, although I don’t agree with the theory myself, you are still required to complete this task.”

The whole room stays silent as Jason simply nods, looking away from Mrs. Click as she begins to tell the class their partners for the assignment, “Okay, starting with Jason, you are paired with Patrick. Nancy, you are with Robin. Eddie, you are paired with our latest addition, Y/N, who you already seem plenty accustomed to,” she smiles.

Brilliant. Great. Now you had to spend extra time together. He knew that you would definitely want to get this assignment done, and complete it to the highest standard. But, that meant equal effort, you doing all of the work would not just damage his grade, but yours too.

“So,” you turn to face him, “Do you have any ideas on what you want to include in this paper?”

“Well, if you haven’t already heard from your cheerleader friends, I am very well-known as the ‘Town Freak,’ so I don’t doubt the people opposed to that theory said the same sort of things the people of this town say to me now,” he chuckles, you noticing the sadness behind his tough exterior.

“Probably sadly so,” you reply, “But, even if you disagree with something, it doesn’t mean you get to hurt the person who does agree with it. As I said the other day, it’s just differences. Plain and simple. We can’t all be alike, that would be the collapse of society. It’s always better to be different than fall into the crowds that make you hide who you are.”

And God, did that last sentence hit deep for him. That’s exactly what he had been trying to show since he was a kid. None of the bullshit that his parents had tried to make him out to be, he was who he was, and he couldn’t care less with who disagreed about that.

You put your hands over your face, “God, I need to stop rambling to you about that.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, “If there’s anyone who would agree with your thoughts on this, it would be me,” he chuckles.

You peered through your hands to laugh along, before removing them from your face, looking up into Eddie’s eyes. Were they always that deep of a brown? And did they always glisten in the light like that?

Eddie was having the same thoughts, but he would never admit that to anyone. Yet, he couldn’t help but notice the way your hair fell in front of your face when you laughed, or how your cheeks turned bright pink when you got embarrassed.

He coughs, “So… I assume you want to meet up outside of here to work on this?”

“If you don’t mind, yeah. I’m free tonight, if that’s okay with you?”

He thinks, “Um… I have Hellfire until, well… when we finish. Campaigns usually last around two hours-ish, so we should be done around six?”

“Yeah, that’ll work,” you reply, “I’ve heard the library stays open at night here, so I’ll just hang around in there and you can meet me afterwards?”

“Yeah, sure. Sure…”

“Cool…”

Luckily, the awkward silence between the two of you is broken by Mrs. Click redirecting everyone back to the current content of the class. And thank God she did, the tension could be cut with a knife it was so thick.

Why were you acting like this? You were rambling so much to him a mere two days ago. You even hugged him for God’s sake, and now you can’t even make basic conversation? What was wrong with you?

Eddie collected you from the library at 6:30, profusely apologising for leaving a girl alone, saying how he “Wasn’t raised like that.”

Although, you didn’t mind. It actually gave you extra time to complete your World History homework, something that you wanted to be perfect, hoping to make a lasting impression on your teacher.

It was only a fifteen minute drive to Eddie’s place, you not realising he lived in the Trailer Park until he drove up the wet road towards the place. You didn’t want to say anything that would potentially offend him, so you kept your mouth shut. You had no problem with anyone that lived there, but was bringing the fact up worse? Was you rambling about how there was no problem making it into a big deal? It was just easier to stay quiet in the already silent atmosphere of his van.

Opening the front door, he gestures you inside politely. Thanking him quietly, you are alerted of another presence in the trailer by the sound of the TV lowly playing in front of you.

“Hey son, how was—“ he starts, seeing your face as Eddie stands awkwardly behind you. “Sorry, I didn’t know Eddie had brought company over.”

He laughs, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, sorry about that Wayne. This is Y/N, she’s the girl I had to show around the school, and we’re also now English partners, so…”

“No need to apologise, I don’t mind you being here. Don’t mind me darlin’, you two can get on with whatever you need to do,” Wayne says, relaxing back into the couch once more.

But, you’ve already decided to take in your surroundings. The place is quite messy, but it also matches the personality of the two Munsons. Random beer cans, empty wrappers and dirty clothes are scattered across various objects around the house. There’s both a line of mugs and hats hooked to the wall, a vast collection on display. Something that you can’t help but bring up.

“I really love your mug collection,” you compliment, pointing to it and flicking your gaze between both Munsons.

“That would be mine,” Wayne replies, “And thank you. I take great pride in it.”

You giggle, “Especially this one,” you say, pointing to the Garfield mug to the right of you, “I love the TV special.”

“So do I!” Wayne beams, “It’s so good, isn’t it?”

“Just the greatest,” you gush back, “Well, it was nice meeting you Mr. Munson.”

“Ah, no need for that mister crap, just call me Wayne,” he replies with a wave of his hand.

“Well, Wayne,” you smile, “Nice to meet you. Eddie, am I going this way?” you ask, signalling to the left.

“Yeah, straight down the hall,” he replies, “We’ll just be in my room if you need us Wayne.”

“Got it, you kids have fun with that English assignment,” he happily says, raising his eyebrows at Eddie when you aren’t looking, Eddie supporting an annoyed eye roll back.

“Your dad seems pretty cool,” you say, walking down the hall and to his room.

Eddie freezes up a little at the realisation that he never put emphasis on what relation Wayne was to him, “Actually, uh… Wayne is my… my Uncle.”

“Oh…” you let out, stumbling over your words, “That wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ by the way, that was more of just a shocked ‘oh’ at myself, mixed with an ‘I shouldn’t have assumed ‘oh.’’” You turn back to look at Eddie who is simply staring at the floor, “Maybe I should just shut up,” you say with a soft laugh.

“Nah, it’s okay…” he lies, trying to hide the pain of his past, “Most people would assume. I don’t live in the most… conventional household, should I say.”

“Which isn’t a problem, if I haven’t made that evidently clear over these past few days,” you giggle, “I think you’ve got the point that I’m not one for judgement.”

“Very clearly noted,” he replies back, laughing along with you.

You reach his room, slowly pushing open the door to find the most decorated room in your life. His walls are filled with posters, little trinkets decorating every corner, almost every space filled up with something he owns.

“Whoa,” you simply admire, “A good ‘whoa,’ again, just to clarify. You took decorating to the max, huh?“

He chuckles, “Yeah. This is my baby, you know? Gotta treat ‘er right after all.”

“Very true,” you reply, “Mind if I just take it all in a minute?”

“Go ahead,” he says, standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets in the middle of his own bedroom.

You come to his bedside table, noticing the packet of un-opened condoms which your brain decides to evidently point out, “Don’t worry. It’ll happen one day.”

He scratches the back of his neck as you mention the condoms, “Oh, uh… Maybe I should’ve cleaned up in here a little…”

“It’s okay,” you say, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of really. Better to be safe than sorry.”

Eddie wasn’t sure whether your casualness was better or worse. On the one hand, a girl not making a big deal out of it was a nice change, usually guys were shamed for that. But, on the other hand, you even bringing it up just didn’t make him feel good regardless of your positive words.

You bend down just underneath his bedside table, noticing a small collection of books.

You smile as you turn to him and quote, “It is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not.”

Eddie breathes out, “Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “One of the best book trilogies ever written. Plus, the Hobbit of course, can’t forget about that. I bet I can guess your favourite character.”

Eddie sits on the edge of his bed in shock. A girl had read his favourite book series? And had called it the best book trilogy ever written?

You break him out of his trance, “Eddie, you doing okay there?” you slightly giggle.

He blinks a few times, trying to bring himself back to reality. A girl reading Lord of the Rings… A cheerleader reading Lord of the Rings… A pretty cheerleader reading Lord of the Rings…

Shit, this couldn’t be happening to him.

“Uh… Yeah, yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?”

You laugh, “I said, I bet I can guess who your favourite character is.”

He’s still staring at you with a slightly parted mouth and a still expression as he breathes out, “Okay… Yeah, try me.”

“Frodo,” you simply say, shocking Eddie to his core once more. How did you know that?

“How… How did you know that?”

“You live with your Uncle, I’m assuming were adopted by him, or at least it feels like that. Frodo went through the exact same thing with Bilbo,” you explain, “We choose our favourite characters based on who we relate to. It’s comforting to us as humans to have a fictional being that’s like us, our life experiences.”

You were a nerd. You were a fucking nerd. Not just a World History nerd, but a proper fantasy nerd. Just like him.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “Well, you got that right. What’s yours?”

“You’re not going to try to guess?”

He chuckles, “You’re a little hard to read for me sweetheart, so I think I’ll just let you tell me,” he grins.

“Well, if you must,” you say, climbing from up off the floor, taking a seat next to him on the edge of his bed, “Sure you wanna ask? I’m going to talk for a long time, I hope you know that.”

He looks at you in the eyes and smiles, “I like it when you ramble.”

You giggle, “Well, if you insist…”

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing inherently wrong with choosing Frodo, but I would argue Éowyn is just a tad bit cooler.”

You had no idea how long had passed, your notebook still in your backpack which was sat against the leg of Eddie’s bed, the two of you now lying flat back against the mattress.

“I guess to each of their own.”

You both laugh as you hear a faint knock on Eddie’s door, his uncle standing in the entrance. “I don’t mean to interrupt you kids from anything, but it’s 10:30, and I start work at 7 tomorrow, so I need to be gettin’ some sleep. Don’t mean to kick you out or anything darlin’.”

You shake your head, sitting up from your place on Eddie’s bed, him following in your motion, “It’s okay Mr. Mun— I mean, Wayne. I totally get it. It’s probably best if I get home too, if you don’t mind Eddie.”

“Of course not,” he replies, “It’s a good idea.”

You nod as you pick up your backpack from off the floor, seeing Wayne walk back down the hallway and lie on the couch.

Something suddenly clicks in you, “Wait, does Wayne not have a—?”

“Um… No, no he doesn’t,” Eddie sighs sadly, “He used to live here alone, you know, before he took me in. And… we don’t have the most money in the world, so he just gave up his room for me and he’s been sleeping on the couch ever since.”

“That’s awful Eddie,” you reply, a sadness laced in your tone, mixed in with a sense of sympathy, “Have you never asked for help?”

“You probably haven’t been here long enough to notice, but the government here doesn’t really give a shit about us trailer trash…”

You rub his shoulder lightly, “You aren’t trash, that’s just a bad stereotype. If I’ve learnt anything about you today, you’re more valuable than you think you are. Just because things come out of people’s mouths doesn’t mean they hold any truth to them, okay?”

He notices your warm touch through the many layers of his clothes, he can feel how soft your hands are despite the restrictions. “Yeah… I suppose I just let it get to me sometimes. If multiple people tell you the same thing for years on end, especially as a kid, a part of your brain begins to believe it is true, even if you know it isn’t deep down.”

Why are you telling this random girl you’ve known less than a week your darkest truths?

“Well,” you think, choosing your wording carefully, “I think the important thing is to remember who you truly are. And to me? That’s a cool, nerdy guy who has a great love for all things fantasy, and that makes you incredibly special.”

He shakes his head, a smile creeping on his face, “Yeah, I guess so,” the two of you laugh together softly.

But, as your chuckles come to a stop, there’s a tension between you two. A sort of admiration where you both simply stare at one another, taking in every feature of the other’s face.

It was like you were both realising something neither of you wanted to admit.

“Um…” Eddie coughs, “I should get you home.”

“Yeah, totally…” you reply awkwardly, Eddie signalling you to the door as you walk out. You smile at Wayne and give him a quick wave as his eyes begin to drift off, Eddie shutting the front door behind him as you both climb into his van.

Eddie needed to see his friends. It was a whole two days until band practice, but the start of it would have to wait as he was in deep shit…

“I think I like her, man,” he admits, staring at Gareth, the rest of the band huddled behind.

Gareth chuckles, holding his drumsticks in his hand, “Yeah, dude, we know.”

“What?” Eddie yells out, “How?”

The boys laugh as Jeff lets out, “It was kind of obvious.”

“No it wasn’t,” Eddie denies, “I literally hated her the day before she started rambling about Lord of the fucking Rings.”

Gareth laughs, “Yeah, man, you hated her because she’s exactly like you. She’s a girl who’s naturally really passionate about her interests, and you hated that because you felt threatened and intimidated.”

Eddie thinks for a moment before mumbling, “Fuck…” realising that his friends were right. Him finding your rambling annoying in the beginning was him taking on the role of how others reacted to his rambling. His brain was telling him to find it irritating because that’s what he’s been conditioned to think his entire life. Until, you rambled about the same thing as him, then he viewed you in the same light he views himself.

“Yeah, man. The first day we caught you staring you literally remembered the exact content she learnt in her class. You normally couldn’t remember that if the teacher spelled it out in front of you,” Jeff laughs.

“What do I do, guys? I can’t just ask her out in front of everyone. She would definitely deny me then!” Eddie freaks out.

“You said you’re spending the evening at yours again on Monday, right? To do the assignment?”

“Yeah, yeah we are,” Eddie breathes out.

“Okay, so just ask her then,” Gareth states.

“Dude, we literally didn’t get any work done last time. She’ll kill me if we don’t get through anything this time. The assignment is due in on Friday, man.”

The guys think for a second, before Jeff pipes up, “Why don’t you ask her during your breaks? Or set up something romantic, fool her into taking an extended break?” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Don’t make it gross, dude,” Eddie grimaces, “I guess I could try that.” Eddie sighs, “But, what if she says no? That’s going to make our group assignment so awkward to get through…”

“Well, you’ll never know until you try,” Gareth admits the truth, “It’s either you give it a shot, or you keep your feelings buried. It’s up to you, man.”

Eddie couldn’t deny that the boys were right, like they usually were on most of his problems. He just has to hope and pray that you say yes, or if you don’t, you won’t be too uncomfortable and ruin the building friendship you have brewing.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll give it a shot,” he says, “Thanks guys.”

“You’re all good, man,” Gareth says, patting Eddie on the shoulder, “Let us know how it goes on Tuesday, all right?”

Eddie nods, “You got it.”

“This theory goes against the very evolution principle enlisted in the Bible. The Bible says that God created man in his own image, therefore debunking this very theory. Does that sound too formal Eddie?”

He shrugs, “I mean, it’s a newspaper. It’s gotta have some formality to it, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Besides, I’ve written it down now, there’s no going back,” you giggle.

He doesn’t know how he was focusing at all, his mind racing about what he had set up above the very ceiling of his bedroom.

You look at your watch, placing your pencil down on the desk, “Okay. Five minute break time,” you say, outstretching your arms.

It was now or never.

“Um…” Eddie begins, “I actually have an idea on how we can pass that time.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, “How so?”

He jogs over to his window, opening it up and proceeding to jump out of it.

You get up out of your seat, gasping as you look out of his window to see him proudly standing with his hands on his hips on the grass below.

“Come on sweetheart, jump down!”

You purse your lips, trying not to laugh, “I think you forget I’m a lot shorter than you, Munson.”

He shakes his hand, “You’ll be fine. Just swing your legs around and leap down. I’m here to catch you if you need it,” he smiles.

You clutch at your heart dramatically, “Oh, my hero!”

You follow his words, leaping down, Eddie grabbing onto your waist as you reach the ground. You could’ve sworn he did it on purpose, you landed solidly on the floor, visibly not needing the extra support.

“Thank you,” you whisper, him coughing as he removes his hands from your waist, walking over to the ladder that is attached to the side of the trailer.

“M’lady,” he signals to you, you curtsying as you begin to climb up the ladder, Eddie following closely behind you.

As you reach the top, you notice the picnic blanket laid down, a bunch of different foods from sandwiches to strawberries decorated around the blue material.

“So, uh…” he stutters, “What do you think?”

“Eddie, it’s lovely, thank you! Just…” you pause, “When did you set this whole thing up?”

“This morning… Why?”

“Not to embarrass you honey, but I don’t think those sandwiches are gonna taste nice after being left out in the sun all day,” you wince.

Honey. You called him honey. That’s not what he should be focused on. He fucked up the entire plan by leaving the sandwiches out in the boiling hot Indiana heat, but you called him honey. Nobody’s ever called him honey before.

“Ah, shit,” he curses, “Yeah, maybe I should’ve thought that through,” he replies, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“It’s okay!” you beam, “We can just relax on the blanket anyway!”

God, you were good at turning any negative into a positive. It was like your given superpower.

He walks over and takes a seat to your left where you had already made yourself comfortable on the blanket.

“Open your mouth,” you say, Eddie asking “Why?” as you shove one of the sandwiches into his mouth.

He can feel the warmness of the bread, dirt from the air tickling the top of his mouth as he pulls the sandwich out, “Gross!” he exclaims, “Why did you do that?”

You giggle, “Punishment for you forcing me to eat that disgusting sandwich.”

He does an exaggerated gasp, “How dare you accuse me of forcing you! I am a man of consent, I wouldn’t dare force a lady into anything.”

“Wayne did a good job raising you then,” you smile.

Just that little comment made Eddie’s heart flutter. In amongst the joking nature, you still managed to compliment his upbringing. Something he had been so harshly criticised and judged for his entire life. You didn’t care, and that’s what made him love you even more.

Suddenly, you felt a droplet land on your cheek, Eddie feeling a drop on his hand as you both look up, the sky now a grey colour as the downpour begins to get heavier.

“You know what that is?” Eddie asks with a smirk, “Karma.”

You shake your head with a snort, “I hate you.”

Eddie laughs with you as he takes off his leather jacket, holding it above his head as he signals you closer, “Don’t want you getting wet, sweetheart.”

You shuffle closer as you ask, “Isn’t it just easier to go inside?”

“We climbed all the way up here,” he says, “Gotta make the most of it.”

As he turns to look at you, you both register how close your bodies are underneath the dryness that his jacket was providing. You look up at his cheeks, which you now noticed are decorated with freckles, a feature that made him all the more unique.

“Stay still,” you whisper, moving your hand up to his cheek and wiping away the droplets of water that had landed there. Eddie tried his best not to nuzzle his face into your warm and soft palm, your touch making him feel dizzy.

Your faces were a few inches apart, your eyes locked, difficult for the pair of you to look away. This was his chance.

“Y/N, um—“

“Can I kiss you?” you whisper out, looking away as you mutter the words.

Eddie swears he could feel his heart beating out of his chest as you said those four words, rendering himself speechless as he gains the courage to whisper back, “Yeah…”

You’re the first to lean in, taking his top lip between yours and pressing down, sealing your lips together as your palm remains placed on his right cheek. Eddie follows suit, dropping the leather jacket held above the both of you as he grabs your face with his large hands, the coolness of his metal rings making your body shiver.

You move your hands to the back of his neck, threading your hands through his matted curls, something you would for sure fix when you get back into his bedroom. But, that was a task for another time.

When you both part for air, you lean your foreheads against one another, the rain pouring down as it falls on both of your faces, your hair drenched in rainwater.

Both of your eyes remain closed as you smile, Eddie whispering out, “I like you.”

You giggle, “I like you too, handsome.”

Eddie places a tender kiss on your cheek as you move the bangs that had stuck themselves to his forehead, the curls loosening the wetter they got.

Eddie lowly speaks, “I think our five minutes is up, princess. Our assignment awaits us.”

You open your eyes, a glint in your eyes as you stare at Eddie, a mischievous grin plastered on your face as you say: “Fuck the assignment.”

i hope you enjoyed this! and i absolutely enjoyed it so much, that you also get a lil epilogue, so enjoy <3

“So, how did it go?” Gareth asks Eddie, curious as to how asking you out went.

“Well, why don’t you see for yourselves, gentlemen?” he answers proudly, the boys turning around to see you walking over with your tray of cafeteria food.

You smile as you reach the table, placing your tray down and leaning to place a kiss on Eddie’s lips, cupping his cheek as you say, “Hi, Eds.”

He grins as he whispers back, “Hi, sweetheart.”

You begin to take the empty seat next to Mike when Eddie interrupts, “Nuh uh uh, I don’t think so,” he says, patting his left thigh, “The princess gets the most special seat in the house.”

“Are you sure, Eddie?” you ask shyly. You had only had your first kiss last night and didn’t want to be crossing any boundaries too quickly.

“Positive sweetheart. C’mon,” he motions to you with his arms.

You giggle, pushing your tray over in front of Eddie and taking a seat on top of his rough, denim-covered thigh, him wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you balanced. He quickly snatches a cucumber stick from your tray, biting into it as you yell, “Hey!”

He chews on the vegetable, humming out, “Hmm, not bad actually.”

You shake your head as you lean over to take a bite out of your mashed potato with your plastic fork, Eddie asking, “So, does that answer your question boys?”

Jeff snorts, “Yeah, dude, you skipped the first date and scored a kiss already!”

Eddie shoves a pretzel into his mouth, “Many actually. Not much work was done after we made out in the rain.”

“Great,” Dustin grumbles, “Now we have lovebirds over at the far end, “Can you please not do all that kissing stuff in front of us?”

You and Eddie look at each other with a mischievous glint in your eyes, leaning in and sharing a passionate kiss, opening up your mouths a little wider than normal in an obvious attempt to tease Dustin. Which evidently worked.

“Ugh! Gross, dude!”

#eds6ngel #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson hurt

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