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cupid-styles · 2 months

Note

Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged

this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!

part of the tattoorry/plugrry world

word count: 3k

content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"Wait, you're being serious?"

Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"

His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend.

"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)

"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills.

"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."

She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences.

"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."

Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."

That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead.

"What do you mean, the right person?"

"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."

It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more.

"What about me?"

"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down.

"What piercings would look good on me?"

He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her.

"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."

She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."

"Anything would, you're gorgeous."

"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"

Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."

"Oh, you're being a professional now?"

"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.

"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."

"Really?"

He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."

She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.

"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"

"Huh?"

She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"

"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"

She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later.

"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly.

She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts.

"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."

He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.

"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils.

"Of course."

"Would you do it, then?"

Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."

Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."

"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."

"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"

"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."

She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose.

"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."

Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand."

"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"

. . .

Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.

It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them.

In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.

"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people.

And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.

It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes.

It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.

"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."

"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."

She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek.

He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.

"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on.

"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."

"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?"

The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly.

"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"

She nods again.

"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"

She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh.

"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it.

"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"

"Do you do that for every client?"

He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."

She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up.

"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"

"Not insane."

He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."

She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast.

"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest.

It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip.

"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."

They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples.

"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"

Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.

"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."

"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"

"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."

He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her.

"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."

She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now.

"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."

She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away.

"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."

Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."

Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles.

"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."

She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"

"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."

"I didn't, I cried the whole time."

He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"

She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them.

"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."

Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?"

"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."

Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt.

When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest.

"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs.

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1nephthys · 6 months

Text

I don't like coffee

Word count: ~1.4k

Summary: When Lando Norris pulled Lando NoRizz in front of his (and everyone really) biggest celebrity crush

Pairing: Lando Norris x actress!reader

Warning: Carlos, Daniel and Oscar are being amazing wingmen, my bad English and also my first time doing this Instagram thing at the end so idk if I did it correctly

----

The race in Brazil was cool and all that, but there was one specific reason why the fans went crazy for it.

Y/N Y/L/N.

When the first person noticed her around the paddock, the whole internet knew, even though Y/n was there just for fun, just because she was a huge fan of the sport so when she was invited to watch the race from RedBull garage she couldn't say no.

Even the drivers wanted to talk to her during the whole rush of the weekend.

Lando Norris had his chance right after the podium, where he proudly stood on the second step. After the nice conversation he had with the girl, he went straight to his driver's room to call his parents and his best friend.

He was about to press the green button on his phone to make a call when suddenly the doors opened and Oscar was in his room as well. Lando even stood up in surprise.

"Please, tell me you did not turn the y/n y/l/n, the famous actress, the face of the year, probably the most gorgeous girl on this planet down." He said to his teammate.

"What?" Lando asked, even more surprised than when Oscar entered the room. He was the type of guy who knew how to knock and now he was there, accusing him of turning down his celebrity crush? "I didn't, she asked me-"

He didn't have any chance to finish his sentence when Carlos entered the room as well, looking like he was some kind of mad man.

"Lando" He went straight to his friend and with the palm of his hand, hit the forehead of his friend "What have you done?"

"Ouch! What? What have I done? What are you two talking about? And who let you in there?" Lando was surprised, to say the least. And he had no idea what those two were talking about. Also, he thought about how Carlos, the Ferrari driver, got in his driver's room, in McLaren.

"You turned y/n down!" He yelled at him.

"What? No, I didn't! I would never do that" He said. "And how do you know I even talked to her?"

"Fans are everywhere, mate." Oscar explained as he crossed his arms on his chest. Carlos was now walking around the room.

"Oh my god, but I didn't do anything. It was just a nice talk. I doubt she would agree if I asked her out." Lando explained himself. Yes, he had the biggest crush on her but c'mon, she would never have a crush on him.

"We heard something else" Oscar commented, he didn't really know what Carlos heard, but as he looked at him, he assumed that the Spaniard heard the same rumors he did.

"And what exactly was this nice talk about?" Carlos asked, annoyed by his friend having absolutely zero brain cells.

"Well, at first she congratulated me, said I was great there. Then I thanked her and told her I was a huge fan of her newest movie. Then, she asked me if I wanted to grab some coffee so I said I don't like it and then-" Lando stopped and then- "OH MY GOD, IT WASN'T JUST ABOUT COFFEE, WAS IT?" He yelled, now he realized.

"Lando, dios mio. I can't believe you." Carlos said as he held his head.

"God, so you really turned y/n down" Oscar said as he tried to stop this chuckle from escaping (not very successfully).

"Stop making fun of me! What do I do now? Christ! I was nervous and I don't know! Help me, now that you yelling at me!" Lando panicked, did he just lose the chance he waited for half of his life? No, that can't be happening.

"Firstly, calm down. Secondly, go find her and ask her to go out with you!" Carlos said as he looked at his friend.

And if panicking and two yelling guys weren't enough, he heard a voice.

"Well, I wanted to ask if it's true, but from what I'm hearing right now, I assume you really did reject y/n y/l/n?" Daniel asked with his infamous smile, maybe it wasn't the best time to make fun of his friend but he just couldn't stop it.

"Stop! This isn't funny! And who let you all be there? It's McLaren!" He said annoyed, now he had to deal with his own stupidity and three guys there.

"Alright, alright!" Daniel lifted his arms in defence "I just wanted to let you know that you have your chance to fix your mistakes. She's in RedBull, talking to Max. She's waiting for her ride to the hotel."

Daniel said and Lando stood there, frozen, what were the chances he would see her again if he didn't talk to her now?

"What are you waiting for? Go!" Carlos had to push Lando a bit, but he started running as soon as he was out of the room. Three guys left behind, smirking to each other's, and crossing their fingers for their friend.

Lando didn't really have much time to think about what he wanted to say as all the way there he was just thinking about not tipping over and falling on his face.

So, now he was standing in front of really surprised (and a bit embarrassed about being rejected after the first time asking a guy out) y/n and Max.

Of course, Max heard as well so he just said "Oh! the mechanic just called me over there! It was nice meeting you, y/n!" He said as he left and went towards this mechanic who called him over (maybe he was a bit crazy for hearing voices).

Lando was still breathing heavily, but he felt awful about this silence that he caused. They talked really comfortably before he rejected her. "Hi, again. I know what I said about coffee but for my justification, I hate coffee and I really couldn't think straight after the race. So, I wanted to ask if you maybe like... uh... hot chocolate. I know it's a bit childish, but I know a really great place and they actually have nice coffee too so if you like, you can have a coffee and I can have a chocolate and... " He realized he started ranting but he also noticed that little smile forming on her lips.

"Lando, I would love to grab some drinks with you."

"Really?" He face-palmed himself mentally and probably all four men who were watching from around the corner did that as well. "I mean, that's fantastic, we can go tomorrow if you would like that?" He tried to compose himself but then she giggled a bit and he was folded all over again at this angelic sound.

"That suits great with me. Should I leave you my number, so you can call me with more details?" She asked as she noticed on her phone the message that the car was already there to pick her up.

He looked around him, only to realize he was still in his champagne-covered racing suit. And his phone was in his driver's room.

Well, that's what he thought but then Daniel appeared right beside him.

"Hi y/n! It's great having you there! Are you enjoying yourself?" Aussie asked as he pushed Lando's phone into his hands, trying to be smooth about it. As he did it, he didn't even give y/n any chance to answer "Well I gotta go! Nice seeing ya!" He said as he went back behind the corner to three other drivers who tried to help.

"Yeah, that was- sorry" Lando said but hey, at least it was less awkward as they both laughed a little. Lando handed y/n his phone and she put her number there, Leaving Lando to write some good name to it.

"I think I really have to go now. I will see you tomorrow, right?" She asked as she put her own phone into her purse.

"Yeah, I will pick you up in the evening" Lando smiled one last time as he watched her making her wait towards the exit of the paddock after saying quick good bye. To the boys behind corner as well.

----

Landonorris

Liked by F1, Carlossainz55 and 967,301 others

Landonorris the coffee was worth it:)

View all 13,431 comments

Yourusername The greatest coffee I ever had:)

Landonorizz LMAOOOOO so the coffee rumors were true

Londonnorrisfanclub Lando fr never beating those no rizz allegations

Carlossainz55 glad you had fun

Danielricciardo you are very welcome mate

Lando2024worldchamp why do I have a feeling that him, Carlos and Oscar put some sense into him Oscarpiastri that's cause we did Landonorris can you all stop embarrassing me now please Danielricciardo let us have some fun too

Y/nismine nooooooo not the vroom vroom guy who doesn't know whats flirting is stealing my wife

Landoxy/n so he heard that we knew about him rejecting the mother so he decided to show us that at the end of the day he got it?

a/n. I hope you enjoy it! There's no much y/n but at least the boys are funny. Also, my requests are always open so you can send anything! kisses:)

#lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris social media au #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fluff #oscar piastri #daniel ricciardo #carlos sainz #max verstappen

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onyourowndaisymae · 4 months

Text

mistletoe mayhem

a/n: i wanted to get out a festive little piece before the holidays are over. sorry for the lack of posting-- i am so sleepy all the time. also i just got my wisdom teeth out so if this is nonsensical i do apologize. i am on several pain meds

characters + content: lucifer, satan, asmo, solomon, simeon x gn!reader

word count: ~1.3k

prompt: it's christmas at the demon lord's castle. drinks are flowing, music is blasting, and you're caught up in the fun of the party with everyone in the main hall. when you slip away to grab yourself another drink, however, you collide with another body in the doorway. who is that? and what's that above your head, dangling from the doorway... is that... mistletoe?

"Lucifer?"

colliding with the solid chest in front of you knocks some of the breath from your lungs. yet, you don't tumble to the unforgiving ground. you look up and see red eyes searching your face, gloved hands steadying you by the underside of your arms to keep you on your feet.

he breathes your name easily. "watch your step."

"my bad," you reply. you didn't even realize you were clutching the front of his coat until you let him go. lucifer's lips curl into an easy smirk as he crosses his arms.

you readjust your clothes and start to wander off with a polite nod, but his hand catches your arm again. "wait a moment."

"huh?"

his gloved finger points above you to the top of the doorframe. there, dangling above your head, is a bundle of mistletoe. you should have known lord diavolo would have the place decorated in such a way-- he'd been asking you for weeks about human traditions for the festive season. you must have told him about this one somewhere along the way. judging by the look on lucifer's face, he knows what exactly that leafy sprig means.

"mistletoe, is it not?" lucifer starts, then seems satisfied when you nod. "i owe you a kiss. if you'll allow it, of course." the smoothness of his offer makes your cheeks split with a delighted grin.

"i'd be offended if you didn't."

"and we can't have that, now can we? not during the holidays." and with that, his lips meet yours.

"Satan?"

a sharp swear hits your ears as strong hands catch you, gripping your shoulders with startling intensity as he somewhat forcibly props you back onto your own two feet.

satan's cheeks are flushed as he looks you up and down once more to make sure you're alright. his fingers find your shirt and dust you off once more for good measure.

"are you alright?"

"i'm okay," you answer, now secure in your own footing. "thank you for catching me."

"sorry for running into you in the first place."

there's a gap of silence. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, eyes flickering up above your heads to the top of the doorframe.

"is there something up there?" you ask. your gaze flits up above you to find a leafy sprig adorning the doorframe.

"if i'm not mistaken," satan says lowly, cheeks aflame and eyes darting from yours, "that's mistletoe. there's a human tradition where two people kiss if they're caught under it together-- i assume you've heard it?"

"i have."

there's another beat of silence where satan looks hesitant-- his body is angled towards yours, leaned in ever so slightly in interest, but his mouth doesn't move. the words won't come out. you can tell he's interested in the tradition, but he doesn't want to pressure you because of the tumble you almost took. you'd find it more endearing if it wasn't so silly.

"... do you want to give it a try? 'tis the season and all."

he lets out a breath you had noticed him holding and nods, scarlet in the cheeks as his fingers brush against yours. satan's lips find yours-- soft, grateful, melting into your touch as voices of your friends and family fade into the background.

"Asmo?"

"oh!"

two arms wind around your body, pressing you against him as the two of you fumble together lightly. you eventually find yourself unscathed and on your feet once more.

"sorry, hon, i didn't see you coming," asmo murmurs, fingers flitting over your form to help fix your hair and crumpled outfit.

"i'm sorry, too. i wasn't paying attention when i came around that corner. are you okay?"

"i'll be okay. now that i've got you alone, actually, i've been meaning to ask you about something."

a delighted little smile crosses his lips, and he takes your hands in his to coax you closer.

"anything, asmo. what's on your mind?"

"this whole mistletoe tradition solomon was telling me about, is it true? you really make out with someone under this plant? it sounds to me like one of the best human traditions i've heard in awhile."

"it's more of a kiss than a full make-out, but yes, sure, i do suppose it's an interesting tradition."

"and what's the plant look like?"

"uh, it's this leafy green little thing, usually tied up somewhere on the ceiling or in doorframes."

"like that?" asmo lifts a finger from your intertwined hands to point up with a devious grin. sure enough, above your head, you spot a sprig of mistletoe.

"you knew that was there, didn't you?"

"well i wanted to try out the tradition myself. and there's no one i'd rather do it with than you! so maybe i bumped into you on purpose to get you under here with me. is that so bad?"

as you find yourself leaning in to ring in the holiday season, you can't help but think maybe bumping into asmo under the mistletoe was a gift itself, even if it was a silly plot on his part.

"Solomon?"

"mc!"

your bodies bump together uncomfortably, and the two of you fumble together to stay standing. solomon's boyish laugh rings through the area, and you can't help but laugh a little yourself at the absurdity of almost bowling each other down on your way through the doorframe.

"are you alright?" he asks, giggles subsiding into a softness as his eyes scan you for any minor bruises or bumps.

"I'm alright. are you?"

"i am. better now that i have you alone."

"oh? and what is that supposed to mean?"

"did you happen to notice the mistletoe above us as you were walking this way?" solomon asks. your eyes drift upwards with his to see the plant hanging above your heads-- probably mistletoe, considering it's decorating the castle for the party, but honestly you'd never been close enough to know what it's really supposed to look like.

"not until now. assuming that's what that is."

"you think i'd lie about that?" he teases.

"oh, for sure. anything to get a kiss."

"ouch," solomon whines, pressing his hand against his chest to cover the emotional wound your words left. "i would never go so far as to deceive you. if i wanted a kiss, all i'd have to do is ask."

"that's true," you murmur, leaning in as he brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

silence.

"anyways," solomon starts, pulling away with a chesire grin and turning on his heel.

"solomon! you bastard! i thought you were gonna--!"

before you can protest further, his lips are on yours, grinning and kissing you senseless as he backs you up against that very doorframe-- to ensure you stay caught under the mistletoe, of course.

"Simeon?"

a gasp comes from the body you collide with, as sharp and unexpected as the collision you found yourself in. the body bumps into the doorframe with a muffled noise of surprise.

"oh, i'm so sorry! i didn't see you coming!" the apology is out of your mouth before simeon's fully steadied himself on his feet, but he's already chuckling jovially and reaching out to comfort you despite nearly tumbling to the ground.

"i'm sorry," he replies. "i should have been paying more attention."

he reaches behind him to adjust his cape, but his gloved fingers brush something caught in his hair and he frowns. you pull it out for him-- it's a decoration. leafy, green, christmas-y. you look above you to see the hook from which it hung in the doorframe now swinging empty after your collision.

"did i knock that over? i'll have to apologize to barbatos." simeon mutters. then, after a moment, "what is that?"

"mistletoe, i think."

"mistletoe?"

"it's a human realm plant," you tell the angel, twirling it in your fingers. "we hang it up around christmas time. it's for couples. when you stand underneath it together, you're supposed to kiss."

"oh," simeon answers quietly, cheeks heating up at your simple explanation. he looks pensive for a moment. "should i hang it back up?"

"huh?"

"well it sounds like a good excuse to kiss you, and i'm not one to let that chance pass me by. or can we just--?"

he gingerly slips the mistletoe from your fingers and holds it up above you, grinning bashfully. no more words are needed-- you answer the angel with a sweet kiss to mark the occasion.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me imagines

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httpsghostie · 9 months

Note

ok this is the video i mentioned, like imagine könig in this, i want to tie his hands and feet and make a mess out of him :((( imagine him crying out of frustration that he can't touch you (and he makes a mental note to punish you as soon as he gets released), so overwhelmed and trying to scape the entire time, so cute :(( you make the context, my brain isn't creative enough to think of how we end up in this situation. sorry if i misspelled something and again i love your blog it's amazing !!*:! also i'm sorry if this make you unconfortable somehow idk?

Enemy pt 1

pt 2

TW: porn

and I strike again with another questionable scenario

this is just... I... uhm... well...

there's no such thing as crossing the limits with me I'm a fucking whore

Summary: you interrogate an enemy soldier in a different approach.

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: smut, König x female!reader, they're both a bit crazy, male overstimulation, edging, knife play (if you squint), glove kink, no use of y/n

masterlist

Recently, your team had brought an enemy for interrogation, and you were the one assigned to get the job done.

"Make him talk, we don't care how." They said.

You got in the cell, hands sweating nervously as you saw the man you were dealing with. You've met before, a long while ago, and he didn't change a thing. He's still arrogant, like he wasn't far within a hostile environment, his hands and feet in chains, in a cell that has never seen daylight. The only thing in the room being the chair he was sitting on and a fucked up mattress.

You crossed your arms as you entered the room, not knowing if he was able to recognize you from the mask you wore. But your voice, he could never forget the sweet melody of your voice moaning his name a few years ago when he fucked you senseless at an abandoned house, in the middle of war.

It happened fast, you were sweeping the place and he was there. You missed your shot when he pushed your gun upwards and tried to strangle you, but soon backed down when saw you were a defenseless damsel in distress.

And you found yourself pressed against a wall being fucked by an enemy soldier, just because he felt like it.

You try to shake off the thoughts that creep on your dirty brain, and as soon as the door gets locked behind you, his body relaxes on the chair.

"So, we meet again." He cleared his throat. Pretentious prick.

"König." You start, raising your eyebrows. "I guess you won't be using your free will to tell me what the code is, will you?" You walked towards him, he was still tall, even when he was sunk on the chair with his legs spreaded.

"My free will has better things to do than to hand out codes like candy at a parade. I prefer keeping my secret to myself. Yours too." You could feel the creepy smile that lit up his face. How could you ever do that to yourself?

"They won't believe you." You shrug, slowly walking from side to side on the cell, arms behind your back, your heavy boots hitting the concrete floor. "They're too busy torturing your general for info." His eyes widened and he straightened himself on the chair, tensing up. "So, what are you hiding, pretty boy?"

He flexed his muscles in response, trying to get rid of the chains that kept him restrained. But the praise, coming from your lips, it was impossible for him to contain an enormous wave of heat that destroyed any ounce of self respect he had. He lowered his head, but looked at you through his eyebrows.

"I assume we'll have to do this the hard way then." You took the knife from your belt and stood in front of him, running it along his collarbone and stopping at his chin, lifting it up. "Such a beautiful pair of eyes you got, 'wonder what you hide behind that hood." You say, lifting the fabric of his mask.

"Gonna use flirting as your way to get around this?" He chuckles, looking away.

"I'm offended." You fake a gasp and hold a hand to your chest. "Wasn't that what you did to me?" You're just able to get a laugh from him.

"You wanted that to happen." He looked at your eyes again.

"And you're wanting, too." You stick the knife in the wooden chair between his legs and he jolts in panic.

"Fuck, are you insane?" He looks down and at you again, and you laugh.

You crouch in front of him, spreading his legs further, and laying your elbow on his thigh. The tip of your finger touches the end of your knife and plays with it, watching how his thighs tense.

"I might be." You say, looking at him. "But I always get what I want."

"You're fucking crazy." He chuckles and looks to the sides, trying to contain his embarrassment as a bulge slowly shows up on his pants.

You take the knife from the chair and put it on your belt again, moving your gloved hands towards his belt and pulling him up. He's heavy as fuck, it was almost impossible to do it if he didn't stand up, towering over you.

You pushed him back, and because of his feet tangled in chains, he fell back on the mattress, bucking his hips up as you eagerly unfastened his belt.

"You weren't this straightforward when we first met." He chuckled and looked up.

"What can I say? 'Guess your taste is addictive." You remembered the bitter taste of his release when he ruthlessly fucked your throat back in that house.

You pulled his hard member out, lifting your mask just below your nose to spit on it, and he whines as you wrap your gloved hand around it, jerking it up and down slowly. He pleads, trying to fuck your hand, but you pull away chuckling and he sighs.

"Let's make a deal, shall we?" You ran your finger along his length, stopping at his tip.

"I won't talk." He gritted his teeth.

"Then you won't cum." You give him a sly smile as you pull the mask down again.

Your hand grabs his dick, jerking it roughly, and he can't help but whine as he tries to get away from your touch. He's so desperate it's pathetic, and he moans as you set the pace.

He tries to move, to get away from the chains, he thinks about how bad he wants to be free and pin you down on the mattress and fuck you until you're begging him to stop, knowing he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.

Your touch becomes too much on him, almost too harsh to bear, and he cries as he feels his cock throbbing as hard as it could, knowing that he wouldn't last long if you kept going this way.

And suddenly, as he's about to cum, you pull away again, leaving him whimpering at the sudden loss of contact.

"Fuck, why did you do this?" He whines desperately.

"It's simple, you give me what I want and I'll give you what you want." You shrug, grabbing his member once again and going fast on it. He cries, feeling his high approaching once again.

"I'm not talking." He shakes uncontrollably.

"Aww, stubbornness only turns me on." You say. He's too overwhelmed to think about an answer, trying to get away from your grip.

You feel his body tensing up again, his hips bucking up, chasing his so wanted release. Your hand keeps its pace, but your other one blocks his tip just as he's about to cum, watching his vein twitch. He's crying and cursing at you in german, his heavy balls filled with cum as he was being denied once again.

"Come on, I'm not gonna let go until you tell me, and it's only gonna hurt more." You say, letting his dick fall back to his stomach, and one of your hands grabs his balls. He's still shaking, completely overstimulated, and you use your thighs to make him stay put.

"I only know part of it, alright?" It comes out high pitched as his voice cracks, you could feel the pain in his eyes. "The general too, and your team is going to need more than just us for the full code if you want to stop that damn operation." It's almost impossible to understand his german accent at how fast he speaks, his chest rising up and down.

His cock twitches, his tip was red and leaking, and you decide that's probably all that he's going to say, and plus you needed him for his part of the code.

"That's it, please, maus, it's hurting." He cries. Maybe he deserved to get his award now.

"Such a good boy you are, huh, see? It wasn't hard." You stroke his dick, the praise enough to make him see stars.

As you increase your movements, he becomes a whimpering mess once again, and deep in his brain he's thinking of how pretty you would look with his cock buried in your pussy, and how bad he will ruin you once he has his hands on you.

It's too much to take, he's trembling, making it hard for you to keep him still. And he can't hold back any longer, his thick cum spouting on your gloves and his shirt.

"Maus, please, stop." He pleads, his body giving in. You clean your gloves on his clothed thighs and get up, leaving him there, covered in white. You stand there, looking down at him and his softening length, and slowly walk towards the door. "Where are you going? Don't leave me like this."

You knock two times on the door and one of your men unlocks it. You open it, looking back at König, still there, still messy, still panting and angry, spitting out as you leave.

"You're gonna pay for this."

#cod mw2 #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #konig x reader #konig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig mwii #könig smut #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #könig mw2 #könig call of duty

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agirlcandream84 · 19 days

Text

Boyfriend!Frank is NOT Pleased With Your Choice to Diet.

Girlies -- just read and be healed. Trust me.

Boyfriend!Frank x Reader

Word Count: 1,370

“Eat,” he says, sliding the burger and fries in front of you on the table.

“That’s it? You’re not gonna, like, scold me about it?” you ask.

“That’s it. Eat,” he replies and slides into the booth across from you.

And so you did, glancing at him tentatively every few minutes, the meal quietly tense. But you'll be damned if he wasn't right. The burger coated your ribs, it's protein-packed patty satisfying you so thoroughly that your headache instantly dissipated and your blood sugar evened out. With every bite you feel your energy restored, your stomach nearly like a bottomless pit.

Near bursting, you push the plate a fews inches away from you and lean back, taking a final sip of your icy Coke. Frank has been done for a few minutes, always just inhaling food quickly and quietly, and has his arms folded across his chest, his huge form smashed into a tiny booth, as he observes you.

You meet his eyes and will yourself not to look away from his glare.

"Don't" you say to him. He shrugs his hulky shoulders, his lips pressed into a straight line, his eyes still locked to yours.

"Because you don't know how it is. I'm trying my best, ok?" you add, now growing more alarmed at his silence than his presumed scolding. His face remains unreadable, the tendons in his forearms flexing as he repositions himself in the booth slightly.

"And by the way its not that serious. Trust me, I eat plenty. That's sorta the whole problem" you continue, almost willing his angry rant to just come already. His eye contact is unflinching, even as a fork clatters to the ground from a nearby table.

"It's not like it was on purpose. I just didn't plan right." you explain, your mouth just yammering in the silence. Your fingers fiddle with the napkin as you roll it into a tight coil. At his silence, you roll your eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

And it's true. You didn't plan to wait too long too eat and give yourself a pounding headache. You didn't plan to wait 7 hours between two hard boiled eggs and your next meal. You didn't plan to nearly pass out at the store.

But the other part, the part Frank is actually mad about, you did plan. You did plan your incredibly calorie-restrictive diet-- the one that's barely enough food for a toddler. You did plan to basically starve yourself for about 4 weeks to fit into the dress you bought for that wedding. You did plan to hate your fucking body so much that you were willing to neglect it and starve in the name of being smaller. Existing less.

And so when you attempted to order a side salad for a whole-ass meal, after very nearly passing out at the store alongside Frank, after not eating more than 2 eggs in 7 hours, after being nearly in tears from the headache tearing through your skull, after complaining the Advil you took on an empty stomach was making you nauseous, Frank was... displeased.

He'd immediately grumbled a "Nah, fuck that, no fucking salads" and you'd looked at him with your mouth agape, beginning to interject but he'd stopped you with "Non-negotiable. Go sit in the fucking booth sweetheart and you'll eat what I order you." You blinked incredulously before grabbing your purse and storming to the booth, sliding in with a huff.

One cheeseburger and a large fries later and you assumed you were in for it. You prepared yourself for the Frank ranting that didn't come.

"You done?" he asks plainly, his face unimpressed with your excuses.

"Yeah I'm done," you reply petulantly, feeling like a teenager having a tantrum.

Frank stuffs his keys in his pocket and grabs the greasy bag to toss in the trash. You scramble out of the booth to follow him back to the car, Frank holding the door open for you to exit and opening your car door while you climbed in. The ride home mimics the meal, tense silence as Frank stares ahead with squinted eyes.

As you arrive home, Frank puts the car in park and you waste no time hopping out the passenger door and towards the apartment complex, eager to slither out of the awkward silence. Despite the tension, Frank is still a gentleman, reaching for the grocery bags you were attempting to haul from the trunk, murmuring "I got it sweetheart," and sending you into the building.

Shortly after Frank places the bags on the counter, you reach to begin unloading the groceries but Frank's hand lands on yours, stopping you before he laces one hand around your waist and the other cupping your jaw, his wrist shifting slightly to tilt your face up towards his before he envelops you in a kiss so tender that you nearly lose your breath. He's slow, deliberate-- his lips grazing yours before you feel the firm press of him as his tongue twines around yours. You allow yourself to melt into his hold, his fingers traveling into the hair at the nape of your neck.

When he stops, you steady your breathing, his face still inches from yours, and ask, "Frank, what are you doing?" You didn't object to his affection but his tenderness was unexpected.

"Apologizing," he responds, his hand still cradling your head.

"Apologizing?" you stutter out, an apology the last thing you expected.

"Yeah. Apologizing," he confirms, brushing his thumb along your jaw. "Way I see it, if I ever gave you the impression that I didn't love your body exactly the way it is, that's on me," he adds.

"Frank it's not--" you start but he interrupts with "Lemme finish sweetheart. I'm not doing my job if you don't feel fuckin' gorgeous every day. Fuck sweetheart, I think about you all damn day. I dream about you and you're layin' right next to me for God's sake. And if you don't know that, I fucked up," he adds, his sincerity enough to nearly break your heart. You feel his hand squeeze your waist.

"Frank, its... you're not," you start, stumbling over your words, the topic so complicated and loaded. You take a deep breath and start again, "The way I feel about my body is the sum of years and years of feeling inadequate and social pressure and unkind words from people who were supposed to love me. You have healed me in so many ways Frank. But this wound is deep. Sometimes it reopens."

"S'my job to take care of you though sweetheart" Frank replies, ever the protector. He could take fix anything, he was certain, at least that's what he told himself. Surely he could fix this. He would just love you harder and louder.

"Frankie you do," you reassure him, standing on tip toes to kiss him again. He reciprocates, again tugging you closer and kissing you in a way that felt like he was trying to heal you. When he pulls away again, his brows have returned to their natural furrow and you know he's got something else on his mind.

"Ok out with it," you prompt him, still locked in his arms and trapped between him and the counter.

"Yeah, the other thing is sweetheart, I don't like when someone treats my girl bad. Even when you're doin' it to yourself," he states plainly, the scolding you expected finally coming to fruition.

"I told you, I wasn't try--"

"Nah, nah. I don't want the excuses doll. You're starvin' yourself," he retorts. You can't quite manage to look him in eye at the accusation. He isn't entirely wrong. In fact he's entirely right. That was sorta the whole idea.

"Yeah, so you gotta cut that shit out. You deserve to eat food when you're hungry. Don't make ask it again and you sure as hell better make sure I don't catch ya' doing it," he adds, his word on the topic final. You nod, feeling near instant relief at the thought of not dieting. You had been miserable for weeks.

"Unfortunately, you gotta learn a lesson though honey," he says with a smack to your ass as he hoists you over his shoulder and stomps to the bedroom.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

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puckbunnyera · 3 months

Text

New Friend | Luke Hughes

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

genre: fluff (?)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

notes: first time writing on this account. will probably end up taking this down or heavily editing as my writing progresses because I'm not sure if I like this one. we'll see 🤷🏽‍♀️.

update: link to part 2 here

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarette smoke overwhelms my senses as I sit at a booth in the corner of an overcrowded bar that my two best friends have dragged me to in Newark. Nausea swirls in my stomach at the sight of all the intoxicated bodies dancing and stumbling around me. After accompanying them to an intense hockey game between the New Jersey Devils and Chicago Blackhawks, ending with a 4-2 win for the Devils, they had decided that the success of their favorite team called for a celebration.

Not much of a party person, I decide to hang back at a table and keep watch of their belongings while they leave to go dance the night away amongst the other drunk people who litter the bar. To ease the anxious feeling in my chest, I pull my phone from my crossbody bag and open up my Kindle app. I choose the book I have recently been invested in, and I quickly become immersed in it. I'm not sure how much time passes by but I'm just reaching a really intense part in the storyline when a male voice grabs my attention.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Lifting my gaze from my phone screen, I meet with the gaze of a very handsome stranger. Shyness begins to take over as I realize that he's talking to me. My words leave me as I continue to stare at the guy in front of me. My lack of response must come off as apprehension because he quickly begins to apologize.

"Sorry if I scared you." He starts. "The bar is pretty packed and all of the tables are full. My friends ditched me to join the crowd and I'm not really a fan of these types of outings."

"It's fine," I reply as words finally find their way into my brain and out of my mouth. "I don't mind." I gesture to the empty seat at the other side of the booth.

"Cool." He nods, sitting down. "I'm Luke, by the way."

"Y/n." I respond. "Nice to meet you."

"I like your jersey." He refers to the Devil's apparel that I'm still wearing from the game I'd attended earlier in the night.

"Uh, thanks." A blush rises to my cheeks at the unexpected compliment. "It was the first jersey I saw in my size at the fan shop so I bought it."

"I'm assuming you're not a Devil's fan, then."

"Not really." I shrug. "My friends are though. I don't know much about hockey, but they love it. They convinced me to go watch the game with them tonight hence why I bought the jersey. What about you?"

"Kinda have to be considering I play for the team." He responds nonchalantly. His words leave me a little stunned and a lot confused.

"I can't tell if you're lying or not."

"I'm serious." He chuckles. "In fact, that's my last name and number you're wearing right now. Look me up if you don't believe me. Luke Hughes, number 43, of the New Jersey Devils. I won't be offended."

I do just that after picking up my phone from the table from where I had previously abandoned it after he made his appearance. Looking through the Google results, I realize that everything he just said is true.

"Okay, so you are telling the truth. But why would you just openly admit that to me? Aren't you worried that I might run off and tell everyone in the bar that I'm talking to The Luke Hughes? Or post it on the internet or something?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Call me naive, but I don't think that's the type of person you are."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Instinct or whatever you call it." He shrugs, a goofy grin on his face.

"What's it like, being on the ice? It seemed intense, and I was only watching it. I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to play."

"It is intense, but I love it." He replies honestly. "I always have."

We continue to talk back and forth for what seems like forever. Taking turns to ask each other questions and sharing random stories that have us laughing, almost to the point of tears. At one point during the conversation, he moves to sit on my side of the booth so he can show me a video of his brother falling off of a board while wake-surfing at their lake house in Michigan. He's in the middle of telling the story of the time he almost had to go streaking across his college campus when he's interrupted by a noticeably drunk man, a few others following behind him as he approaches the table.

"Lukey!" He exclaims loudly, making me laugh as he wraps an arm around the shoulders of a flustered Luke. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Who's your friend?" Another man questions as they file into the booth seat. The one embracing look shoves us over to sit on our side.

"I'm Y/n." I introduce myself.

"Nico." He greets me before pointing to the other men at the table. "That's Dawson, John, and-"

"And I'm Jack." The loud one from before interrupts. "I'm Lukey Pookies older brother." He lifts a hand and teasingly pinches Lukes cheek.

"My very drunk older brother." Luke huffs in annoyance and swats Jack's hand away.

"Nice to meet you." I giggle as the brothers begin to bicker.

As casual conversation begins amongst the group that has formed at the table, Luke scoots closer to where our shoulders and thighs lightly brush against each other with every slight movement and he leans in to whisper in my ear.

"Sorry about them." He smiles sheepishly when I turn towards him.

"Don't worry about it." I assure him. "They seem fun." He nods before turning to join the conversation.

It's nearing two in the morning when Nico, who seems to be the only sober one in the group aside from Luke, announces that it's time for them to head home. There are a few groans of disappointment, which Nico ignores as he begins to pull them from their seats. After they say their goodbyes and begin to walk away, Luke turns towards me.

"I know this is probably weird, and feel free to say no, but I was wondering if I could get your number." He questions, shyness washing over him. "This is the first time in what feels like a long time that I've been able to have a conversation with anyone, let alone a girl, whose intentions aren't to take advantage of my fame or status to influence their own. I would really like to get to know you more. As a friend, of course."

"Of course. I'm always down to make a new friend." I smile, a fluttering sensation forming in my chest as I take his phone and add my contact. A few seconds after handing it back, my own phone buzzes.

"I just texted you so now you have mine. I have to go but text me when you get home, so I know you made it safely."

He seems to hesitate for a few seconds, as if trying to make up his mind about something, before he leans in a brushes his lips softly against my cheek. When his face is visible again, he is sporting a bright red blush, mine surely looking the same if the warmth in my cheeks says anything. He says goodbye quickly before turning to run after his friends who are whooping and hollering, having seen the whole thing. I smile to myself as I gather mine and my friends, a giddy feeling running through every fiber of my being. I make it only a few feet from the table when I almost run into my friends, both standing in front of me, with shocked expressions on their faces.

"Tell us everything!" They exclaim as they each grab one of my arms and begin to pull me out of the bar.

#luke hughes #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #lh43 #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes fic #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction

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pizzapottah · 2 months

Text

runaway

summary: you and james grew up together, being best friends since childhood, but after you get sorted into slytherin in your first year at hogwarts, it was only a matter of time until it all crumbled down.

pairing: james potter x slytherin!slughorn!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3.6k

warnings: like two swear words, sirius and regulus' feud (they're both menaces), kinda mean james, sirius' a dick too, THEY'RE ALL DICKS BUT REMUS YOUR HONOR, a bit angsty

author's note: inspired by runaway by kanye west (don't worry, there'll be homecoming too). slughorn as granpa is going to have a bigger role on the second part i swear (i love granpas and he woud be so sweet) i swear the timeline piece for young love is coming. i don't know when but i'm trying ;-;

runaway | homecoming

To Sirius, it looked a bit obvious that you and James had somewhat of a history.

They were just in their second year, and as soon as “BLACK, REGULUS” is called and gets put to Slytherin, he turns to his friend, about to start a bashing on his brother's House. “What did I tell you? Of course he would be put there. A little snake, he is, tried to drown me in the bathtub when he was five, Merlin knows what he will be capable of now…”

But as another name gets called to the Hat, James looks like he isn't listening. And as Sirius goes on, stubborn, the boy puts a hand on his mouth. “Shush, I wanna hear.”

Well, that's surely something new. Prongs wanting to listen? That has to be the news of the decade. So Sirius tries to hold back his wounded ego and looks at the chair where the students sit, one by one, to be sorted. There's a girl sitting on it, and as the Hat takes a moment to debate with himself for where to put her, James looks at the girl like she holds on her shoulders the sky and the stars.

Sirius doesn't really understand - right now he just thinks that yes, she’s pretty, but not that pretty to break his neck just to look at her. (In a few years time, he’ll realise that it’s not because she’s not that pretty. It’s just because he doesn’t really like girls - and maybe, just maybe, at that time he had an itty bitty crush on his friend, but was too young and oblivious to know.)

James stares dreamily at the girl. “She's the daughter of my neighbours - the girl I grew up with, remember? I told you about her.”

No, Sirius actually doesn’t remember her, but he stares at her and the Hat, waiting for the sorting. “Why is it taking so long? It never takes that long.” At this point he’s just trying to go on like nothing happened, like James didn’t just shut him up to stare at a girl - what happened to the bro code?

“The Hat’s probably settling between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor,” his friend tells him. “To Gryffindor because, well, I'm here, but also to Ravenclaw because she’s so smart- oh, Sirius, when she gets put here, you’ll have to move- could you give your seat to her?”

Sirius stares at him with his mouth open. In front of them, Peter and Remus assume the same horrified face of their friend - James Potter asking Sirius Black to give up his seat beside him? They’re not even sure if they ever saw them sitting apart. The latter seems horrified at the thought of his best friend asking him to move.

And before Sirius can start shouting mouthfuls of insults that a twelve year old surely shouldn’t know, the Hat declares his sentence. “SLYTHERIN!”

A sudden relief fills Sirius. Oh, thank Merlin. James, unlike him, looks outraged and is probably about to have an aneurysm. “WHAT?” he shouts, his protests unheard as the Slytherins claps fill the room as you go sit at their table. “I demand another sorting! The Hat’s broken!”

Professor McGonagall takes no more than a few seconds to shut him up, opting to use magic instead of discussing with a twelve year old with a too-big ego, and James has to sit still, almost chained to the table, for the whole evening, not muttering a single word. Sirius looks at him smugly, silently thinking that he deserves that for even thinking about putting a girl before him, as he glares at her and his brother quietly chatting on the green and silver table.

You don’t exactly remember when you and James Potter actually became friends.

You know your dads went to school together, his in Gryffindor and yours in Slytherin, and your family's cottage and the Potter's farmhouse being only a flower field away, for most of your childhood you were each other’s only friend. But as you grew up and he went to Hogwarts, merely a year before you, you two drifted apart.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. James was a year older than you, already growing faster, and probably needed more friends than just you - not that he had difficulties at that. He was an enthusiast, and put his heart in everything he ever did. During the summer he told you about his new friends - and the strange nicknames they’d given each other - and expressed his excitement over you meeting them.

It all went downhill when you got sorted to Slytherin.

For you, or your family, it wasn’t a big deal. Slytherin is a Hogwarts House as much as any of the others, and many of your family members are Slytherins. But as for you it’s not a problem, James surely doesn’t think of it like you do, and makes no effort to hide it from you.

(In the first weeks of school, a rumour that he had tried to protest to professor McGonagall and even Dumbledore about your sorting spread around. You just hope it was a bad joke.)

More times than you’d like to admit he has complained about your friends, saying that you should just stick to staying around him and his friends.

“Yeah, and then what?" You’d say, getting angry. “Spend six hours of lessons alone, not talking to anyone? Spending all my time at the dormitories by staying silent? If you found some friends, why can’t I? You’re not my mother, you can't tell me what to do!”

“It's because they’re bad for you!”

“Oh, so you mean to tell me that Regulus is worse than Sirius?” you’re not sure if he has seen the way Sirius treats you - like a rival, a nuisance that he has to endure until he manages to get rid of it. Just yesterday, when you were by the Black Lake, he made you trip by the river and almost fall in the water. When you confronted him about it, he shrugged it off, blaming your bad balance. James did nothing about it - not that it is his place to discipline his friend, but if he tries to scare off all your friends just to make you stay with his, assuring himself that he treats you decently is the least he could do.

It’s no secret that you and Sirius don’t get along, and as now he’s apparently James' best friend, it’s a problem. Sirius despises you because you’re friends with his brother - who, by the way, never speaks ill of him - and you despise him for the way he treats you. You wouldn’t have anything to do with him if it wasn’t for James insisting on you spending so much time with his friends.

Peter? Sure, nice guy. Remus? Your favourite. But Sirius? He’s hated you even before you even met, you’re certain. It’s like you were made for hating each other.

But at this time, it’s still just the first year. You and James are both just kids who love each other very much, and surely none of you is ready to give up on the other. Somehow you compromise - you stay with your friends, James stays with his, and you try to avoid the Marauders, especially when you're with Regulus. Him, in fact, is even angrier about the whole situation than you.

“I can't believe it,” he said, once. “He's bashing you for befriending me and a couple of other Slytherins? Sirius goes around the school saying I'm not his brother and that our parents found me in a dumpster. I think it’s him who should revise his priorities.”

Sure, your friends and his friends hate each other, but for your first year at Hogwarts, the friendship with James somehow remains intact. So by the time summer break comes, it’s like you never argued at school and never grew up from the kids you used to be, spending all your time in the field between your houses and constantly having sleepovers.

It all comes crashing down in your second year.

You befriend Severus Snape, a guy in James’ year, while the latter falls head over heels for Lily Evans. The arguments get more heated and frequent, you both just getting mad at each other over nothing, and it’s like all the time you spent together in the damn field is forgotten.

“Why him, but not my friends?” is a frequent question he asks, worried about you, since Severus wasn’t one of the people he wanted to be around you.

“Well, go ask Sirius, James!” you would always reply, getting meaner every time this question was asked. Now, basically every time you see each other, you argue, him too proud to admit his wrongs, you too stubborn to give in.

And, one day, you’ve simply had enough. There’s no energy left in you, and it’s like you’re the only one caring about your friendship, fighting for it. So, since the only times you and James interact it’s for arguing, you start ignoring him. You ignore him when he tries to talk to you during breaks, you ignore him when he greets you in the hallway between classes, you ignore him when he tries to start an argument again.

Soon, the only signs of recognition he gets are from your friends, who send him dirty looks every time they see him.

James honestly feels even more enraged than before, sure that it’s them who are conditioning you - especially Severus, who never liked him or any of the Marauders, always staring at him up and down like they were superior to him.

“I think Snivellus’ putting strange ideas in her head,” James announces to the other Marauders one evening, while they’re all huddled in their room. Sirius huffs dramatically as Remus sighs, while Peter just frowns.

“You have to let her go,” Sirius insists, never having liked you. You’ve never actually done him any wrong, but your House and the fact that you’re dangerously close to James are enough for him. “If she’s ignoring you, that’s her loss, ‘innit? She loses the only good friend she has. Once my brother and the other Slytherins get bored of her, she’ll be alone and will come crawling back.”

Remus and Peter stare at him with their mouths open. “Sirius, that’s horrible,” Lupin says, shocked. He turns to James, not understanding all of this drama, “Why can’t you just accept that she’s made new friends aside from you? Can’t you just be happy for her? Is it that hard?”

James crosses his arms. Right now, he looks like a spoiled kid who’s used to having everyone at his mercy. “I can’t be happy for her knowing what horrible people she is friends with,” he grumbles. Sirius nods, agreeing. “Just leave her alone and give her time to understand her mistake. And once she does, it’ll be too late.”

So he did, leave you alone. Stopped saying hi to you, hoping that like Sirius predicted, you’d come back - except it could never be too late for you. James is sure he’d welcome you back a thousand times, if necessary, even if Sirius is sure that you should learn your lesson by him never talking to you again.

A week passes, then two, then a month’s passed and you only seem happier, always surrounded by a big group of friends, who now consist of some Ravenclaws, too. They stop glaring at him, finally, but Regulus doesn’t look like he’s going to stab you in your back at any given moment. You two look closer, even.

And when the summer break finally arrives, James thinks that maybe, now that your friends aren’t there to condition you, everything will go back to normal - it already happened last year, no?

Well, nothing goes back to normal.

You don’t show up at the Potter's saturday barbecue - your parents do, though, and say that you simply didn’t feel like coming. James is more than confused - you used to love coming to their barbecues. His confusion only strengthens when later that week he goes to your house to ask you if you want to come with him to take a swim by the lake, and he gets greeted by your apologetic mother, who simply tells him that you are at a friends’ house.

Defeated, James goes back home, immediately writing a letter to Remus for advice - he’s learned not to name you in front of Sirius - and then slumps in bed, convinced that you’ve started to hate him.

It's monday. On mondays you always go to the lake together. Never missed a day since now.

But James doesn’t surrender. He isn’t ready to give up on this friendship yet.

He goes to your house the next day - tuesday, usually you play Quidditch. Your mother probably pities him, at this point. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, she’s still at her friend’s house. Her name’s Pandora - a sweet girl from Ravenclaw, you surely know her. She's coming back next week, and the girl will stay with us for a while, too. Hasn’t my daughter told you about it? She probably just forgot.’’

James has actually never heard of this Pandora girl before, even if the name does sound familiar. He's hurt by the fact that you didn’t tell him you’d go away, even if it was for a week, but Remus’ reply to his letter is quick to snap him back to his senses.

Dear Prongs,

Please, stop thinking that the poor girl is your property. Let her live her life. You don’t have to do everything together and she doesn’t owe you anything. Besides, I'd like to remind you that during the last months at school you two stopped arguing just because she started ignoring you, and you complied, instead of finding a sane solution. She was probably too exhausted to keep fighting with you, and thought that maybe not starting a conversation would be best. If you didn’t like that, you could’ve simply told her.

In hope that you come to your senses,

Moony.

James' newly return to his senses doesn’t last long, though, as apparently, Remus told what happened to Sirius, too.

Dear Prongs,

Let her stew in her own juice. You’ll do just fine without her. You still have me, Remus and Peter. Plus, it’s not that big of a loss. In your position, I would never talk to her again.

Please listen to me,

Padfoot.

James is torn. Why are his friends like this?

He ends up going to your house again, but this time he's sure that you're home and can't avoid talking to him. It's tuesday again, Quidditch again, so he brings his broom and all the equipment you'll need, in hope that you’ll just become friends again without a big fuss. It always was like that - in the past years, the ones before Hogwarts, you two rarely argued, and everything was forgiven without even saying sorry, not even the day after. A kiss on the cheek, two cookies and back to being friends like nothing ever happened.

(James hasn’t brought the entire jar of cookies that his mother just made. No, no, absolutely not. He would never try to bribe you like that, who do you take him for?)

Your father opens the door and forces himself to smile at the sight of Iames. It's kinda hard when he knows the kid has insulted the House he was in for almost two whole years now. “James,” he greets, rather formally than usual. “Good morning. How can I help you?” it is strange talking to a boy he’s seen grow up like this, but he can’t help the awkwardness, especially knowing how James made you feel.

“Is she home?” James doesn’t have to specify who, since he’s always come here for you.

“Well-”

Before your father can articulate an actual sentence, a familiar voice comes from the hallway, “Who’s at the door, son?”

Your father shifts so that professor Slughorn can see James, clad in Quidditch uniform, looking smaller than he’s ever been. “Oh, it’s you, Potter! What a nice surprise! Why don’t you enter?” not sparing a look at your dad, who’s staring disappointedly at his own father, he welcomes the boy in. “I see you brought cookies! Is your dad home, perhaps? We’re making potions here, thought that maybe he would like to join…”

In the living room there’s five people seated on the carpet: you, who James recognises immediately, Lily Evans - his heart skips a beat just by seeing her -, the girl who he barely recognises as Pandora and, to his absolute horror, Regulus Black and bloody Snivellus. You’re all seated in front of a cauldron each, and the potion inside them is the colour of an astonishing purple. You’re all laughing and chatting like nothing's wrong.

The fact that you would trade Quidditch tuesdays just to do extracurricular potion lessons with Snape makes him want to vomit. For Lily Evans? He understands, he would too, but Severus?

Once you all notice him, the room becomes silent. Professor Slughorn blinks, not understanding the sudden tension, remembering all the times you and the Potter boy would play outside in the garden with him watching over. He thought you were good friends - and you still are, right?

You huff, getting up and taking him by the wrist. “Feel free to go on without me,” you say, “I'll walk him home.”

“Hey, that’s not-”

But it’s too late, since you’ve already passed by your father who just nods in an approving manner. You get to the door, and James thinks that never, never in almost thirteen years of friendship has he been thrown out of your house like this. You two always tried to spend the most time you could with each other, and when time to go arrived, it was not easily that his parents were able to bring him home.

It's only when you’ve surpassed the porch that James is finally able to snap out of your grasp. “I don't need you to walk me home like I’m five!” he bursts. You don’t even blink, going for the flower field that sits between your houses, and he has to speed up to catch up to you. “Could you tell me what is going on?”

This time you frown, stopping. “What’s going on?” you ask in disbelief. Letting out a small laugh, you ask, louder, “What’s going on?”

James falters. “Yeah,” he breathes. “You’re not the same.”

He stares at you and for a moment, hoping it’s all a bad dream, because something tells him that this time you won’t go back to being friends thanks to some cookies and a kiss on the cheek.

Your eye twitches. “I'm not the same,” you mutter. “What nonsense are you babbling about? James, I've tried my best to keep up with you, but I don't think I can do it anymore. At Hogwarts you treat me like I'm a pet, expecting me to do what you say, and when I rightfully don’t - because mind you, I am my own person! - you get mad at me saying I'm stupid!”

You start walking towards the Potter's house again, letting out a frustrated groan. “I start ignoring you because I'm so tired of the fact that we’re constantly arguing about my friends - people I care about - and every time we talk we just end up fighting again!” you point your finger at him even before he opens his mouth to protest, “And don’t say that’s not true, Potter, it’s been months since we’ve had a decent conversation and now that we’re talking, we’re back to arguing again.”

James stops and suddenly thinks that holy shit, you’re right. He barely remembers the last time you’ve had a civil conversation that wasn’t a screaming match, or the last time he made you laugh or even barely smile.

But pride is an ugly thing, and he isn’t ready to admit his faults - but is more than ready to point out yours. “So you do admit that you started ignoring me!”

You seem to lose it. “Yeah, douchebag!” you yell. “Don’t you get it? That's why we haven’t fought lately! That’s why we’ve been so peaceful! Because we didn’t talk!”

First James, then Potter, then douchebag. He's about to have a heart attack - he once was JJ and Jamie to you. “Maybe it’s best if we just… stop talking. Like, at all.” he murmurs, almost hoping that you will protest. It’s never really been him the one fighting for this friendship - since the Marauders entered the picture, it’s like he stopped fighting to maintain a good relationship with you, but started to fight to make it crumble to the ground. He’s realising it now, but it’s too late, and unlike him, you’re not that keen on letting him come back.

Please, he thinks, don’t let me do this.

But instead of protesting, you spitefully murmur, “Yeah, I thought so.”

And the same field that has seen you two grow up is seeing you two split up, probably for good.

#harry potter fanfic #james potter #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x reader #pizzapottah's writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #james potter x slytherin!readeer #james potter x y/n #marauders era fanfic #james potter x you #james potter imagine #marauders era

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afewproblems · 4 months

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Christmas Party Wish Part One

After The Christmas party, Steve manages to avoid everyone for all of two days before Robin shows up at his front door, ready to knock it down.

He crosses from the kitchen and into the foyer just as Robin starts yelling.

"Steven Marie Harrington, you open up this door or so help me--"

Steve rolls his eyes, pulling the door inward quickly enough that Robin loses her balance and nearly topples onto the inside floor mat. If not for Steve's quick reflexes she would be face down in a heap, he tells her as much with a sly grin as he helps her to stand.

"And whose fault would that be? Nice way to treat the person who is here to help you out Dingus," Robin huffs, brushing off imaginary dust from her shoulders while Steve moves aside to let her in.

"Merry Christmas to you too Rob," Steve says tugging her towards himself. He sighs as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck, content until she blows a long wet raspberry into his check. Steve drops her with a yelp and wipes away the wet mark she left behind with grinning lips.

"That was for ignoring my call," she says with narrowed eyes, "you were supposed to come for supper on Christmas day remember?"

She shrugs off her blue parka before lifting each foot to pull off her snowy boots, Steve takes the coat and tosses it over the back of the closest chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I know," he manages after a beat, sighing as Robin scoffs. She turns on her heel and wanders into the kitchen, leaving Steve to trail after her.

"I can only assume it's because you had other plans, you can't have possibly ignored my call for some other reason, hmm?"

Steve lifts his head to stare at the ceiling and count to five.

The thing that Steve both loves and hates about his best friend is her ability to read him through and through and call him on his shit. He'd hoped to have at least a little more time to wallow in self pity though.

"You've been wallowing for two days Steve, and I know it sucks," she chews her lip for a moment before sighing, "I'm sorry about the wish game, I feel like it's my fault".

Steve shakes his head and moves to the fridge. He opens it and reaches inside for two cans of cola before turning and using his foot to nudge the door closed again. He stacks the cans, holding them both with one hand and he moves to the pantry, grabbing an old open tube of Pringles, before making his way back to the kitchen island.

"Nah," he says eventually, "it wasn't your fault, if anything it proved why I was right not to say anything".

Steve places Robin's cola and the chips on the counter beside him and cracks the tab on his can with one hand as he leans heavily against the edge. He takes a long swig from the can, pounding his chest as he finishes to release a long burp.

Robin grimaces and swats at Steve's bicep as she grabs her own can and hops up onto the counter next to Steve.

"Dis-GUST-ing," she enunciates, wrinkling her nose, "and it doesn't prove anything Steve, of course Eddie would wish for his band to succeed, he doesn't even know you're on the table".

"And besides," Robin continues, gesturing to Steve with the can, "Nancy and Jonathan don't know that I'm a friend of Dorothy and we've known each other for over a year now. You've known them for three years and haven't said anything either, Dingus, so why would Eddie feel comfortable sharing something like that in front of everyone?"

And, huh, well what Robin says does make a lot more sense than the rambling depressing thoughts that he's been playing on repeat since their movie night.

He and Eddie have gotten a lot closer since they escaped from the Upside Down for the last time. Since Steve managed to carry him out of hell and got them to the hospital in time.

And Steve has been trying so hard for months not to expose himself, to show the most vulnerable parts of his heart to someone that could stomp on it as easily as Nancy did.

But Robin has a point.

On the one hand Steve has been protecting himself, and on the other he's also made sure that there would never be a possibility of--

Steve shakes his head, "first of all, I only just figured all of this, Bi-Sectional stuff, out Robin--"

"Bisexual," she sighs as Steve keeps talking.

"Whatever, and second, we have no idea if Eddie swings that way either…I just don't want to take the risk and end up fucking it all up".

Robin stares at him, an unhappy frown marring her normally sweet features. It feels too much like she's evaluating the inside of his mind --though she did always have the uncanny talent of knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"And what would you say if I told you I had a plan?" Robin says slowly, her gaze unwavering still.

Steve meets her eyes for a moment, taking in the smirk and the raised eyebrow. There's a challenge in her expression and Steve knows there's nothing for it but to listen to what she has to say.

"I'm going to regret letting you in today aren't I?" Steve says as he lifts his can towards her own.

Robin answers with a wide grin and knocks her can into his with a metallic click.

"Don't you always? Anyways," she clears her throat and looks at him with a mischievous smirk, lifting her hands into the air and wiggling her fingers, "I'm thinking, are you ready? New Year's Eve!"

"No--"

"New Year's Eve Steve, come on!" She insists as Steve grazes on a stack of chips from the Pringles tube.

"All we need to do is invite everyone over, Eddie included, to Casa Harrington for a little New Years Party," Robin continues, ignoring the eye roll Steve sends her way, "with enough liquid courage you'd have another opportunity to actually talk to Eddie, confess your feelings, and Boom! Maybe even get a midnight kiss out of the whole thing!"

Steve stares at her wide eyes and wider grin, forcing himself to keep his expression blank.

"So, just to be clear," Steve says eventually, around a mouthful of chips. Robin exaggeratedly gags and snatches her own stack from the tube.

"Your plan is for me to host another party and talk to him".

"Well, yeah--"

"...Robin, that's not a plan, that's a repeat of what already happened," Steve groans as he puts down the chips and runs his hands over his face until they've tangled into his hair.

"No, no, nuh uh, because you didn't say jack shit to him all night," she huffs, gently pulling his hands down, "the crucial difference my sweet bozo, is that you are actually going to tell him how you feel this time".

"How am I supposed to do that with my ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend, and everyone else here smart ass," he counters, letting her continue to hold his hands in her own smaller ones.

She rolls her eyes but squeezes his fingers as she continues, "it will be easy to get him alone, come on, you could tell him you want to give him his Christmas present in your room, you could ask him to go for a smoke outside, you could show him the basement stereo and your ridiculous music collection, must I go on while you don't write this down?"

With every suggestion Steve feels a surge of warm affection for his friend and allows for a fond grin to replace the skeptical frown on his face.

"Do I have to do all of those or should I pick one?" Steve asks, lifting his now free hands to protect his face as Robin whips her own at his chest and head.

"How you were ever considered a ladies man, I will never know," Robin says, though the words are rather undercut by a laugh that turns into a giggle as she finds a particularly ticklish rib and begins her assault.

"You are a fucking menace birdie," Steve manages to say as he catches the offending hands and steps away from the counter and his friends attack.

"You love it," she scoffs, stealing another chip and crunching it loudly as though to make her point.

And he does, Steve thinks to himself.

They have five days to figure out the final details, and Steve can't help but move back to the counter to swing an arm around her shoulders.

Because when in doubt, he can always count on Robin.

"Okay, New Years it is".

#afewproblems writes #steve harrington #robin buckley #i missed writing these two so much #platonic soulmates #platonic stobin #holiday steddie #holiday fic #part two christmas wish #robin and steve are chaotic siblings and no one can tell me otherwise #i saw someone asked for a part two and a part three so here we are #feels good to be writing again #the final part of the halloween au is coming along still so hopefully people are also excited for that haha #please support by commenting and reblogging

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redroses07 · 1 year

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Meeting His Family//Georgie Cooper

Georgie Cooper x Fem!reader

Summary: Reader and Georgie are dating and she is meeting his family for the first time! this takes place some time around season five.

Content warning: literally nothing...a little spice at the end ig? Use of the word Y/N.

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Okay...so I know this is different from my usual content but there are no good Georgie fics! So, naturally, I had to change that. As always, there's lots of fluff. Hope y'all enjoy, and happy Thanksgiving!! Lots of love 💖

You stared intently at your dresser drawer, it was overflowing with clothes, and yet you still had nothing to wear. Meeting your boyfriend's family was stressful enough, and making a good first impression was mandatory. Should you dress casually? It was just dinner at their home after all, but you didn't want to seem careless.

You looked at the clock, it read 5:10. Your boyfriend, Georgie, was supposed to pick you up at 5:30 so you had to decide quickly.

You sighed and reached for a navy blue flowered sundress with buttons down the front. After changing into the dress you brushed your, and applied natural makeup. You heard your doorbell ring and assumed that your boyfriend had arrived.

You took one last look in the mirror, fixing a few strands of your hair. You slipped your feet into your black converse, and rushed down the stairs.

you quickly opened the door, finding your Georgie leaning against the frame with a smug smile on his face. He was wearing a dark red sweatshirt and baggy jeans. His hair was pushed back and styled perfectly, as always.

"You ready to go sweetheart?" He said with his thick southern accent. He gestured for you to take his hand, and you obliged. He pulled you down the porch steps and led you to his green mustang, his car that he loved almost as much as you. He stopped to open the car door for you.

"Ladies first." Georgie said, winking at you. You felt your cheeks turn red, and butterflies came alive in your stomach.

You jumped in the car and strapped yourself in, Gerogie hopping in the driver's seat a few moments later.

"My god I'm nervous." you say, fidgeting with your hands. Gerogie reached over and intertwined one of his hands with yours, and left the other on the steering wheel.

"Don't worry, they're gonna love you." He assured you, rubbing his thumb across your palm. His hands were warm, a strong contrast to yours which were always freezing cold. They were also rough and calloused, due to the frequent car repairs he did.

"Also...just to give you a heads up my brother Sheldon is a little well...you'll see." Georgie explained.

"Ummm...Okay?" you replied, slightly confused.

Georgie turned onto the street where he lived. You recognized it because you had been to the coopers before, considering Gerogie lived in their garage, but you had always managed to avoid his family. It wasn't until last night when Georgie finally gave in to his parents' demands and let you meet them.

He pulled into the driveway and parked the car. You unfastened your seat belt and exited the car, you were even more nervous than when you left your house.

Georgie took notice of your anxious behavior and turned to face you, taking both of your hands in his.

"Darlin' how many times do I have to tell you there is nothing to be nervous about." he exclaimed.

You smiled at him and looked down at the pavement. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you a quick hug. You pressed your face against his chest and inhaled the scent of freshly chopped wood and cheap cologne.

He squeezed your hand lightly before opening the door to his home.

"We're here y'all." Georgie shouted. It was a small, but cute home with floral wallpaper and a cozy living space. The smell of spaghetti, which is what you assumed they were making for dinner, wafted through the house, and was that hot dogs?

A woman wearing a pale pink dress with a warm smile appeared around the corner. You assumed this was Georgie's mom.

"Well hi, you must be Y/N" She said happily. She had the same accent as Georgie.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Cooper." You smiled, trying your best to seem polite.

"No need to be so formal, call me Mary." She exclaimed before turning to face Georgie, whose hand was still holding yours.

"Why don't you two go sit over on the couch while I finish making supper." Mary suggested. gesturing towards the living room.

"Fine by me." Georgie said, pulling you away from his mom.

You sat next to Georgie on the couch, and he draped an arm over your shoulders.

"See, not as bad as you thought, is it?" Georgie said softly.

"No," you replied, blushing.

A boy about thirteen years of age entered the room, giving you a look of disgust. He was wearing dress pants, and a button down shirt, and he looked like he wanted to attack you.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" He said, glaring harshly.

"Hey, I'm-" You began, but Georgie cut you off.

"Don't be rude Sheldon, leave us alone." He snapped, and the boy rolled his eyes before grumpily walking into the kitchen.

"Sorry about him," Georgie said. You laughed, understanding how annoying little siblings can be.

The two of you continued to chat quietly, while waiting for dinner to finish. You rested your head on Georgie's shoulder while he twirled strands of your hair between his fingers.

You were nowhere near as nervous as you had been upon arrival. You hadn't been in Georgie's home long, but there was something oddly welcoming about it.

"Dinner's ready!" You heard Mary call from the kitchen.

You stood up quickly, smoothing your dress as you did so. When you entered the dining room you noticed seven chairs placed around the table. Mary sat next to a younger girl who had to be Gerogie's little sister Missy. Next to Mary, at the head of the table, was Gerogie's father.

If you were being honest, he was the one you were the most nervous about meeting. Of course you had seen him around school before, since he was the football coach, but you had never spoken to him personally. Across from him was an older woman with vibrant painted nails and a fancy hairdo. Sheldon sat on the opposite side of the table, was he wearing mittens?

After everyone was seated, the family joined hands and said grace. Everyone then served themselves a plate full of spaghetti with hot dogs. It was definitely an odd choice of a meal, but you were willing to give it a try.

You sat in the empty chair next to Georgie, and across from Missy. You smiled at her as she eyed you suspiciously.

"I'm Missy, nice to meet you" She greeted.

"Hi-" you began before she interrupted.

"Oh, I know who you are, in fact I know a lot about you, Georgie talks about you a lot." Missy said with a sly smile.

You turned to look at Georgie, whose cheeks had turned a bright shade of scarlet.

"Do you now?" you giggled, looking him up and down.

You saw Missy snickering out of the corner of your eye, which made the situation even funny.

"Now Missy, why don't we let Georgie keep his dignity." Said the older woman.

"I'm Connie, Georgie's grandmother" she said, as she turned to face you.

You proceeded to introduce yourself and continued to talk with Connie, who you had decided was your favorite member of the cooper family. Well, other than Georgie of course.

"Connie, are you going to give me a chance to talk to the girl?" Georgie's father exclaimed.

"She's all yours George." Connie replied, shooting me a look of annoyance.

You turned to the man, who held a half empty beer in his left hand. The two of you introduced yourselves awkwardly and failed to hold a conversation, creating an uncomfortably long silence.

Other than that, dinner went relatively smoothly. The family was extremely kind and genuine, well except for Sheldon. But you were sure you would get used to him.

After eating, you offered to help Mrs, Cooper clean up dinner, but she insisted that she didn't need it.

"Well, this has been nice, but I think we're going to head out to the garage now." Georgie announced.

You made sure to thank everyone before heading out the door, taking a breath of relief as you did.

"So, what do you think?" Georgie said laughing lightly.

He shut the garage door and turned to face you, a small smile spread across his lips.

"They're actually really great...I could get used to being around here more often." you exclaimed.

Georgie stared at you intently, his misty blue eyes pouring into yours.

"What?" you asked, blushing intensely. You felt your heartbeat increase rapidly, it always did when he gave you that look.

Georgie began slowly walking towards you, stopping only when there was less than an inch of space between the two of you. He placed his index finger under your chin and lifted it.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be in love with you." He whispered as he cupped your cheek, and leaned in to close the gap between the two of you.

He kissed you roughly, like he had been waiting all night for this moment. Come to think of it, he probably had.

Georgie let out several soft moans as the kiss continued. He began to move forward, slowly backing you up to the bed. Once you reached it, you happily flopped down on the mattress. Georgie relocated his lips to your collarbone, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

He slid his right hand under you, clutching your waist. His left hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your skin. His touch was ghostly, your skin tingling everywhere he went.

Georgie hovered above you, those beautiful blue eyes admiring you once more.

"Maybe...you should...stay the night." He said between breaths.

Your heart skipped a beat, this was new, but you weren't about to turn the offer down.

"I think...maybe you're right." you replied, before grabbing his face and pulling him into another kiss.

#georgie cooper #georgie cooper imagine #georgie cooper x reader #young sheldon #young sheldon season 6 #young sheldon x reader #montana jordan #the big bang theory #sheldon cooper

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wraithlafitte · 3 months

Text

you need to rest

pairing: sam winchester x reader

CONTENT: fluff, established relationship, reader is shorter than sam (but who isn't)

word count: 724

You tiptoed down the stairs from the second floor of Bobby's house, careful not to step on the places you knew creaked. You had awoken feeling the full effects of your dehydration, and needed a glass of water asap or you were certain your mouth would shrivel up and die.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed a faint glow coming from inside the library. The men often stayed up late researching, so you didn't even look to see who it was, beelining to the kitchen to get your water.

The doors separating the library from the kitchen were closed, so it wasn't until you were on your way back to bed when you glanced inside the library.

It wasn't Bobby up late, like you assumed. It was Sam, laying over a pile of books, his head resting on his forearm like a pillow. His laptop was open in front of him, casting his face in a ghostly light that emphasized the tired lines etched into his skin.

You walked to the desk softly and placed your water glass down, leaning over Sam to close his browser windows and turn off his laptop.

You gently shook Sam's shoulder. He jerked upright and grabbed your arm, always ready for a fight. "It's just me, Sam," you whispered. He instantly relaxed and dropped your arm.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Guess I fell asleep."

"It's four in the morning," you told him sympathetically. "You've been working yourself to the bone over this thing. You need to rest."

"I'm fine," Sam croaked. He looked haggard, dark bags under his eyes and lines carved into his brow from squinting.

A few moments from the past week clicked into place in your mind. Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded and eyes closed. Sam dozing off in the car on the way to town. Sam with his forehead pressed to a bookshelf, jumping when the book fell from his hand, and insisting that he hadn't been falling asleep. Going to bed before Sam and waking up with him not there.

"Jesus. How much sleep have you been getting?" you asked concernedly. "You look like shit."

"I don't know."

"Don't know or won't say because you know it's not enough?"

Sam heaved a sigh that turned into a yawn. "Maybe like, three hours a night? Two? I've gone longer with less."

"A year without a soul doesn't count," you said, swatting his arm. "Come on, we're going to bed."

"But-" he protested.

"Sam."

He closed his eyes defeatedly. "Okay. You win."

Sam rose from the chair slowly and grabbed you into his arms sleepily, resting his chin on your head.

You led him by his limp arm up the stairs to the room you two were staying in, although lately it had just been you. Sam didn't bother to put pajamas on, simply kicking off his shoes and falling face-first into the mattress. You giggled, setting your water down on the side table, and followed suit.

Sam peeked one eye open to look at you. You brushed his hair behind his ear. "You gotta take better care of yourself."

He smiled half-heartedly. "That's what I have you for," he teased. As you scoffed, he turned onto his side and pulled you against his chest. You snuggled against his warm body, face stuffed into his flannel, breathing in the scent of him.

You yawned, causing him to yawn as well, sending you both into a fit of giggles. You turned your face solemn again. "Promise me you'll come to bed when I do this week. At least."

Sam looked lovingly into your upturned face and kissed you on the forehead. "Promise," he whispered. His hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you close into his neck again.

You kissed the base of his throat. "I love you. I don't want you to run yourself into the ground."

He exhaled lightly. "I won't. I know you won't let me. And I know it's not your job to take care of me, but... I appreciate it."

Your arm curled around his side, rubbing his back. "I know," you said simply.

As the first pale fingers of dawn crept over the horizon, you and Sam had dozed off in each other's arms, breathing in tandem.

Finally resting.

divider by @saradika-graphics

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural x reader #userwraith

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deblklesb · 8 months

Text

[Head Over Heels — Abby x Reader Oneshot]

[rugby player!abby, artist!reader, fluff, pining]

cw: reader is a total mess, abby is brother's friend. there's not explicit content but still MDNI.

a/n: I've put my whole simpussy in this, like... reader is a loser lesbian and this fact is totally self-inserted, sorry not sorry. again, so so sorry for the wait! this is just some fluff with reader being a simp, a mess, all over the place for abby anderson teheehee 👉🏾👈🏾, i hope you like it anon!!!

word count: 3,4k | not proof read

!reblogs are highly appreciated!

The cool winter wind was reaching your face as you pedaled to your class, high speed across campus because you were late. The alarm didn't clock, you took too much time eating breakfast, and now you wish to all the heavens the teacher has not arrived yet.

Your brother was very much confused when you started to run around the house this morning.

"I didn't know you had class, you usually wake up first so I assumed…"

"The alarm didn't clock", you yelled from the bathroom, brushing your teeth as fast as you could, but decently.

Now, the open buttons of your shirt allowed the wind to come in so you wouldn't be as sweaty. Fixing your hair after parking and locking your bicycle, you greeted someone working and headed to the room, so frustrated to get late to your favorite class.

"You're lucky our model for today is more late than you", the teacher said as soon as you got inside.

"Sorry, Ms. Addams", your smile was weak. You wanted to disappear, that was your favorite teacher.

The only tripod available was in the front, no one liked it because the lightning from there was so confusing it messed up every sketch. Lucky for you, during winter the sun isn't that bright, so you fixed your stuff and just got a moment to breathe. Being a teacher's pet didn't mean sitting in the front, that was new for you.

"Hey, what happened?" Gloria, your friend, reached out. "You're never late"

"My alarm", you shudder, sighing. "Well, I'm here now. We just have to wait for the model"

"I heard is some girl from the rugby team"

Well, that's news. Your teacher is doing some work indeed, trying to expose her students to different body shapes and all.

"Nice. Perhaps she's nice and will carry me around, my legs are burning from pedaling so hard", it was a joke, a silly one, but as soon as a woman who wasn't enrolled in that class got in, you knew she could definitely carry you around. You also knew that because you knew her.

She was probably the biggest woman you've seen in person, and absolutely the most beautiful.

Freckled, creamy skin on her arms and face, honey-blonde hair in a braid that fell on her shoulder, a firm and strong body worthy of an athlete. Her clothes were simple, just cargo pants with a plain shirt and boots, but boy, oh boy, she was looking gorgeous. As always.

"Sorry for the time, boss, I had to get out later from early practice", for some unknown reason, her voice, too, sounded too good to be true and made you melt inside with just a simple phrase that wasn't even directed to you. "Hope it doesn't mess around with the class"

"It's okay, Abigail. And you don't have to call me boss, we've talked about it", your teacher smiled fondly, hugging the tall woman and making obvious the size difference. You were probably the same height as the dark-skinned woman, so that means you were as high as Abby's chin. Being next to her on other situations made you very self-aware of that fact.

This useless information would always make you squirm. This time it was on the chair in the middle of the class, hoping for all the God's nobody noticed.

"Kids, this is Abby. She will be our model for today and two other classes, so make use of the anatomy to study properly", she was very comfortable next to the rugby player, which made you deduce they knew each other well. "Well, now go prep yourself, darling, we have to start"

"Do I… Take everything, or something?" Just the mention of her being nude made your mind buzz around and it wasn't a good sign, considering you had to focus to draw.

"Keep your underwear, please", the older woman smiled sympathetically, turning around and heading to the back of the room, her usual initial spot in every live reference class.

Abby took off her boots and left next to an empty chair, starting to undress then.

Nobody was looking at you, but you tried to keep it cool and professional. Ignoring the heat on your face and the sweat arising on your palms, you looked at Gloria to hide your embarrassment and noticed she was looking back at you trying not to laugh.

"You're very gay", she whispered, making you roll your eyes and then look at your empty sketchbook. She wasn't wrong, though, you were very much a lesbian and it was obvious.

Those type of reactions were normal whenever Abby was around, but you could definitely go through that class without it.

You put effort into abstracting the sensations and feelings that make room into you as soon as Abby stands in the small, lifted platform in the center of the room, the ambient light hitting her just right. She positioned herself in a simple form, waving briefly at you from there when she spotted you in the front. You did the same back, a small smile to be nice - but not too big to give it away that being around her made you almost piss your pants - and then you all started to work

It was a figure drawing training, something you usually hated because you had to think too much about form, proportion, perspective and lightning. You loved to do loose sketches and grew very fond of gesture drawing, too much for your liking, so that now that you had to stick to the forms and not the rhythm and movement, your mind froze a little. Despite that, you loved doing art and loved that class even though it had nothing directly linked to your major.

Abby had strong features, in the sense of focus. The muscles of the arms and legs, the shape of her face, the abdomen and her whole posture caught your attention too much. It wasn't just the imagery, but a whole set of little elements that formed a distinctive energy. Even the braided hair was part of that, and at each second, each line traced and marked shadow, you tried to remind yourself that it was a class.

After 10 minutes or so, she took a break - admittedly, you had no idea how those models stood still for so long. While she stretched and relaxed her muscles, people started to talk with each other around the room, the small buzz of conversations surrounding, as you turned to Gloria.

"I'm dying here", you whispered, stretching your hands and fingers a bit. "She's so pretty"

"I have to admit… She is very handsome. I don't usually hang out in your brother's dorm so I don't see her often…"

"They're together all the time, I am very lucky to have my face shoved into a book all the time because then I don't have to have buckled knees around her" Gloria laughed at your despair, the whispers almost a cry for help.

"Let's gather our focus, people", Ms. Addams called, and just like that the break ended.

Although the object of analysis was Abby's body and structure, you just had to make a small drawing of her face. Shading and putting too much effort, you ended up doing another one. And by the time the class ended, you had a main figure drawing of her body in the first pose, two others of her face and another simple sketch. A very productive class, and you felt yourself bursting with inspiration still.

"I have a class in five minutes, so I'll have to go now, boss!", the blonde reached to her clothes as people started to pack their stuff. You tried not to look at her figure too much, but took your time putting the material in place just because, y'know… Care. It had nothing to do with the possibility to look at her from afar a little bit more.

"That's okay, Abigail. Thank you for your help, same time next week. Send a hug to your father!", Ms. Addams waved goodbye.

"Hey" you looked up from your backpack when Gloria tapped your shoulder. She pointed to the door, where Abby was standing, ready to go. The blonde was looking at you, a smile on her face. "Tell your brother he owes me twenty bucks. See ya!"

"Okay, bye", you nodded and chuckled lightly at the comment, imagining the type of bet they both must've done this time.

As soon as the other students started to get out, your friend gave you small punches in the arm, giggling.

"Stop!", you felt your face warm, it was so fucking ridiculous to be like this around her every time. And the worst part is that she didn't even notice you that much, so you were a head over heels with zero hope.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"What do you mean you were naked around my sister?!" You rolled your eyes with the discussion, ready for the mess your brother was about to make.

"Nobody was naked, I had underwear!" Abby's voice was playful, but you knew your brother was two steps from going serious about it.

"Stop being a drama king, asshole", you grunted while going to the kitchen, not even looking at them to escape the risk of drooling over the tall woman sitting on the couch.

"Hey, I'm the big brother here, I was supposed to be looking over you!" His voice started to get a pitch higher, you could imagine the indignant face already.

"You don't even give me rides home, too busy with your flings", you shout from the kitchen now, filling up your bottle.

You were trying so hard to focus on studying a subject you were not interested in, ready to throw it in the air to watch some Ghibli movies instead. Filling the water bottle was almost an excuse to get out of that madness, but having to hold your reactions because of Abby's presence was not ideal.

"That's right, get him again! Get him for me!" And now her voice is closer, almost like she's in the kitchen with you. It makes you flinch slightly, almost dropping the bottle before you turn around to see her strong figure on the entrance.

"Look, you touch her and I will fucking throw that rugby ball right into your face!"

"Jesus Christ, Matt, shut up! Nobody is keeping you from your shit, leave me alone?! It's just Abby!"

Your mom would be annoyed to be around you both, good thing you lived together alone.

"Yeah, Matt, it's just Abby!" She repeats.

You finally look at her properly. She has a simple shirt on and sweatpants, it's casual but it looks too good on her - as usual. Her hair is down - you loved her hair down - and a scrunchie lies on her wrist. Her freckles are so visible from where you stand, it's almost like cute details painted directly on her face to compose the most beautiful work of art.

"I would like to see it, by the way", you snap out of your trance with her words directed to you.

Her hips touch the kitchen counter when she's one step closer, a sympathetic smile making your hands tingle and her tone weaker now that she's just talking to you.

"What?"

"Your drawings. From the class"

"Oh-", you look away, trying to come up with an excuse. "But… We still have other classes to go. It's better to see it at the end and all… And they're not even that good", you're holding that water bottle for your dear life, afraid that it slips from your hands due to the sweat.

"You don't wanna show me, that's fine", she chuckle, hands up in acceptance.

"It's not that, it's just-"

"No, I'm not being funny, it's serious. If you don't wanna show me, it's okay. Was just curious y'know, after all I'm just standing there. Don't know how you do whatever you're doing"

That's the most you've ever talked to Abby, and she's so nice. Genuinely trying to make you comfortable. And it makes you fucking sick, you just wanna spit out that you would like to have her posing for you every day for ever, to have her like your muse, to kiss her face after drawing it millions of times- You're such a loser.

"Oh, I get it…" you nod, trying to come up with a good response. "Well, I guess after the classes, I mean when you stop posing for us, I could show you whatever I did. Just wanna be more confident, it takes a little bit more of time to be familiar to the subject"

"If that's your saying, boss lady, I absolutely believe it", she's smiling wider now and you just wanna scream into a pillow about how incredibly cute her cheeks are.

"Okay, ahm… I have to go back to the room… To study other stuff that is not art, unfortunately", you point to the corridor, mind going blank with the mere proximity between you both. "So, uh… See you later?"

"Hope so. Good study session", Abby gives you space to get out of the kitchen.

The rest of the afternoon you keep repeating that interaction in your mind. Analyzing you every word and wondering if she thought you were, like, embarrassing.

Still, the image of her cute cheeks when she smiled at you and the way she seemed really interested in your drawings took over your attention, it was all you could think about the rest of the day because you're such a simp and she's so beautiful. Fuck this.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It's now game season, which means that the college campus is a mess. Everybody seems so agitated, a buzz surrounds each corner while posters adorn the walls and murals, calling for the next big rugby game.

The hype around the event kinda mobilizes you too, even though you're not even that into sports. You're actually so out of this type of entertainment, but eventually if you sit to watch with your brother you get so excited and exalted that it almost looks like you've been following the teams forever. Matt actually thinks it is so funny that you keep asking him the rules and then start to scream at the TV once you'd pick it up enough to finally enjoy the match.

"If they don't kick their asses I'll actually lose fifty bucks" Gloria reveals as you both enter the building for the art class.

"Fifty?!" Your eyes almost jump from your skull. "Do you have that much faith in our team?"

"Well, don't you?"

"I don't know", she laughs. "Really, I don't follow them… But if you bet fifty bucks, they must be at least decent"

"Your girlfriend is a good player, if that's what you wanna ask", the taller woman smiles at you with that suggestive manner.

"I didn't ask!"

"But you were thinking about it"

"Shut up." You definitely were. "And she's not my girlfriend" Unfortunately.

As you both enter the room, early enough this time, you recall the fact that it's your last class with Abby as a model. Something inside of you mourns the future absence of such a big source of inspiration for you. Your sketchbook (the personal one) has pages filled with drawings of her - you didn't tell anyone, but you went through her instagram page and used some gym photos as references.

One night you brother stormed in your room and you had to close the book as fast as possible, trying to mask your embarrassment. If he knew that you were so into Abby, he would be a hundred percent more unbearable.

"Hey, teacher", the tall woman soon walked in the class, backpack and a massive bottle of water on one hand. "Last day, uh?"

"Yes, dear", people started to settle for the beginning of the session, fixing materials and angles. "I would like to thank you for your time and disposition, I imagine it isn't easy to stand in front of a class of stranges that are meticulously looking at you", everybody chuckled. Abby took her shirt in the corner, putting the clothes on a chair. Against your will, you absolutely checked on her. But life wouldn't let you have it, and so, like being conscious of your actions, the blonde glanced back at you, which caused you to face away immediately. Jesus fucking Christ, could you be more obvious? "So thank you, again, and I hope you somehow enjoyed the experience"

"I certainly did, boss" She smirked friendly, going to the small platform in front part of the room and standing with arms on her back, legs slightly spareted. Why on earth was she so good looking? "I don't really mind the looks, after all there are dozens of people staring at the games and judging us all the time, so… Well, thank you too for inviting me, it was truly nice! Needing againg, I'm here for it!"

You felt a tap on your shoulder and looked to the side, Gloria was smirking like she knew something you didn't.

"You'll get your pages wet with all the drooling", she muttered.

"Wanna see who gets the pages wet?" You playfully put a hand on your own watter bottle, having her giggling.

"Well, let's begin, shall we?"

Einstein for sure had a point with relativity, because that class flew away like a lightning for you. The biggest pity of all, since Abby wouldn't be there after that day.

Once again you end up doing a main drawing of her body, using the remaining time to put some doodles of her face around it. It was like this for every class, different than the ones she wasn't the model. However, by that time you were already used to sketching her - hence the alone sessions in your room - so you could do much easier work now. You hoped no one noticed this fact, because a question about how you got so instinctive when drawing Abby would be blatantly dodged.

You already could tell in detail the difference between her arm muscles and the last model, for example, but not only the imagery of it: you thought about the biological singularity of her muscle development.

As soon as the class ended, you closed the sketchbook and tried not to think too deeply about the whole situation. It would be fine. Abby would stop being the model and so you would see her less, consequently thinking about her less and moving on so easily. Like, so easily.

"Hey", you froze with her voice, more specifically when noticing that it was almost next to you. Her face was the first thing you saw when looking up from your backpack. "Are you coming to the game tonight?"

"Should I?"

"Well… I could use some cheers", she was still shirtless. Heck, she was still in her intimate clothes.

You were not thinking about how she used a simple bra and nice black boxers.

"I thought you had plenty. With all the staring", why were you being so sarcastic?

"Your staring is kinda different, if that's what you wanna hear", she smirked, crossing her arms. Good lord, save me from barking in front of her with all this attitude. "And I would like you there"

"So maybe I'll go", you shrugged, trying to be cool about it. Something inside of you said that maybe you were being too cool about it, maybe she would think you don't really care; that's not what you want her to think. Shit, were you doing this wrong?

"Don't tell your brother I asked you this while almost nude, I don't think he would let me get close to you ever again", her chuckles were so cute, she was so cute. You were so done.

"Oh, do you want to get close to me again?" Abby stepped back while still smirking, everybody seemed to be out already - though you couldn't tell exactly, she was still your main focus.

"Maybe" Now she shrugged, finally getting close to her clothes again. "Preferably when he's not around"

What was that? Oh, probably your heart skipping several beats.

"Talking like that, I might as well think you're hitting on me, Abby" The most surprising thing was how you weren't laying down on a puddle at this point. Instead, you were chuckling back, hands sweaty and stomach twisting in a rush.

"Am I?" She grabbed her pants. "You'll probably have to come to the game and see!"

After another smirk from her, you just shook your head and walked away from the room with a simple "See you later then".

The interaction started to play again in your mind, Gloria was standing outside with wide eyes and a smile fighting to appear. That adrenaline rush made your mind a whirlwind.

"What the fuck was that?!" Your friend whispered, holding your arm and following your steps.

[png dividers by @cafekitsune]

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talesofesther · 2 years

Text

dead channels

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie finds dead channels on a walkie-talkie to vent about his feelings and everything he goes through. One day, you happen to stumble upon his frequency.

A/N: I can't remember where I saw a prompt like this, but I knew that I had to write something about it. I think it's important to say that I know very little about how walkie-talkies work. And yes I went way overboard with this story but I truly loved how it turned out; it's a big one, the biggest one shot I've ever written, but I promise, it's worth it.

Word count: 11k

Masterlist

February 7, 1985

You were annoyed, and Dustin would hear about it for giving you a walkie-talkie without telling you what channel you were supposed to be using.

You paced in your living room, switching the frequencies, finding dead channel after dead channel. For ten minutes the only noise coming from the device in your hands was static.

Until you turned the switch one more time, and the static stopped. You clenched your fist in victory, sitting down on your couch and about to voice your frustrations to your younger friend.

"… I hadn't seen him in four years, man."

To your surprise though, someone on the other end of the connection spoke first.

A deep frown etched itself into your face when you heard the muffled voice. It wasn't one you could recognize, clearly not Dustin's. The words were laced with a distant sizzle, maybe because the person talking was too far from your location or the walkie they were using was too beat up. The tone was quiet too as if spoken without the intention of anyone hearing it.

Against your better judgment and with the help of innocent curiosity, you didn't switch channels.

"I don't know what I was expecting. Shit, I shouldn't have been expecting anything. Uncle Wayne was furious when he walked in on us and saw my bloody nose, he chased him off, yelling for him to never come back, not even caring what he needed the money for. I- I wanted to say something too but… Damnit.."

You heard what you assumed was a sniff before the stranger kept on talking.

"Dad did always make it clear that I was his biggest mistake, guess I just wasn't expecting him to come back and throw it at my face after all these years. Again."

The words were a private confession you weren't supposed to hear. There was no answer for the muffled voice. This person was using what he thought was a long-forgotten channel as some sort of diary, maybe. At least that was your first assumption.

You ran a thumb over the grey plastic of the walkie-talkie on your hands, finger hovering above the switch. Your knee bumping up and down. Should you say something? Should you change frequencies and forget this ever happened?

You changed channels, but not before memorizing the frequency.

February 19, 1985

Almost two weeks went by before you heard the lonely voice on the dead channel again. You told yourself it wasn't creepy to set your walkie-talkie to the channel when you weren't using it.

You stood in front of your kitchen counter, cutting up potatoes for your dinner. The chicken was already heating up and you sneaked tiny pieces of it to your dog when your mom wasn't looking.

The walkie rested on the dining table, you liked to keep it close these days. One never knows when the upside-down might decide to pay a visit.

"So uh, Hellfire has a new member."

You nearly cut your own finger when the static buzzed and, right after, the stranger's voice was invading your house. You turned around, carefully, as if the person knew you were listening in.

"His name's Gareth, seems like a cool guy. Honestly, I'm just happy that we now have enough people for a full campaign, I- I have all of it planned out and I think it's gonna be great, the storyline is thrilling…"

Subconsciously, you found yourself smiling. The kitchen was empty, save for your dog wagging his tail, and you were smiling as if someone had just told you the good news you were waiting for.

You didn't know this person, this was the second time you were hearing his voice, yet the almost childlike excitement that laced his tone today filled your chest with similar joy. A stark contrast to the last time you heard him.

Was it too weird to feel like you were starting to know him?

February 20, 1985

It didn't take long for you to hear from him again, not even a full day had gone by.

You had just gotten home. Throwing your car keys on top of your bed and removing your coat. On the horizon and past houses and trees, the sun was starting to lower itself, you looked at the orange rays through your window, stretching your arms.

You were rummaging through your wardrobe in search of pajamas when you heard it.

"I fucking… this school, man… Jaso-… ruined my da-"

The voice was laced with static and fading in and out of connection, the sound muffled by your backpack. You were in the process of removing your shirt as you raced towards your bag, almost tripping over your discarded sneakers.

Pulling open the zipper, you snatched the walkie and adjusted the antenna.

"… been working on that campaign for weeks man, weeks, and that douchebag just… He- he…"

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, in nothing but your jeans and a bra; the tone of his voice slicing through your heart and making it bleed. Your eyes were unfocused as you loosely held the device, waiting for the lonely voice.

"Ripped it to pieces and threw it in the mud as if it was nothing. It's not fair. Shit, it's not fair, and I- I wanted to fight back y'know? But…"

You heard a sigh, heavy and tired.

"Yeah I froze, it's not like three against one would be much of a fight anyway."

The static came and the voice was gone. You stayed there, the wooden floor starting to become cold under your knees. Your eyebrows pulled slowly into a frown. Does this person study at Hawkins High? It's not like Hawkins had many options regarding school but still, it left you all the more frustrated that you couldn't pinpoint who it was.

Granted, your only normal year in high school was the first, and you didn't remember much about it. After that, Will went missing, and… Your mind had been a bit numb to the normal days ever since, you wouldn't be surprised if this person was a classmate of yours.

Abril 29, 1985

After a couple of months, you genuinely felt as if you knew this person.

It was odd if you so much as stopped to think about it. He opened his heart to what he thought was an abandoned channel, yet you were always there, listening; but never talking back. You knew his voice by memory, yet he didn't even know there was someone on the other end.

Sometimes — most of the time — there was a pang of nagging guilt at the back of your mind. But you'd usually think to yourself; what if, someday, something happens and he needs someone?

Well, you'd most likely be there, and if anything, the thought made you feel a little better about your curiosity.

The lonely boy on the walkie-talkie became your secret. A secret, for the sole reason, that he also became your comfort. These days your house was mostly always empty. You slept with the device resting on your bedside table. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could almost feel as if he was there with you. He became a constant presence in your day, even when he didn't speak, you knew he was there. Knowing there was someone else out there made you feel less alone.

Sometimes, when the sizzled voice coming from the device was too shaky, laced with tears and sorrow; the guilt made itself more present, you wished you had the courage to speak up. To tell him that you were there too, that you could be there for him if he wanted you to, the same way he involuntarily was there for you.

After a long Thursday, you were sleeping, the rain outside had lulled you to an easy slumber tonight. However, when your bedside clock hit 2:08 AM, a distant voice started pulling you away from dreamland.

The sound was distant to your ears at first, waiting for your body to fully wake up. You opened your drowsy eyes with a frown, looking around your bedroom that was still engulfed in darkness, with only the street lamps making the raindrops on your window shine.

And then you heard the familiar voice again, quiet, molding itself into the night.

Maybe it was a bit foolish of you to leave the walkie on during the night, but these days, you couldn't help yourself.

"… and Wayne found a picture of my mom. He says I have her eyes."

He continued, apparently. You pushed yourself up with your elbows, the covers pooling at your waist. You wondered how much of his monologue you had missed.

"I don't…"

The tears staining his voice were pretty noticeable tonight.

"I don't remember her that well anymore, I wish we'd had more time… Shit."

And that was all. Static, and then he was gone again. It was fast, part of you wishing you hadn't slept at all.

July 4, 1985

You took a deep breath in, bracing yourself for the pain. With one hand grabbing onto the bathroom sink, you draped the antiseptic-covered cloth against the wound in your abdomen.

The paramedics at the mall did a good enough job, but some cuts still needed a bit more attention.

It had been one hell of a week and you barely had time to breathe between being trapped in a Russian elevator, finding a Russian base, being drugged and tortured by said Russians, and for the cherry on top, fighting a human flesh-based giant monster.

You were heavily considering a vacation from Hawkins.

Biting into your lip, you carefully closed the bandage over the wound. The white sink of your bathroom was covered in blood, as were the tip of your fingers and parts of your clothes. Tonight, you thanked the heavens for your mother's busy schedule, providing you with an empty house and plenty of time to clean up the mess.

Steve, the ever-sweet boy, offered to stay with you and help with… whatever you might need. You said you were fine, which, was a lie, but he had enough pain of his own to take care of.

You discarded your shirt to the bathroom floor, looking at your exposed skin in the mirror with a grimace. Long sleeves and sunglasses would be your go-to for a while if you wanted to avoid questions. You were popping open the buttons of your jeans when the crackle and static of the walkie-talkie made you jump. The warm voice of the stranger buzzed through right after.

"Starcourt just burst into flames."

You placed a hand over your racing heart, tightly shutting your eyes before reaching out for the walkie that rested against the tub.

"Yeah it's- it's crazy, the new town mall just burned to a crisp, at least that's what the news is saying. But I don't know man, I was making a deal near there when I heard the ambulances, there were so many of them; I mean, they said a lot of people died, so…"

You sat down on the edge of the tub, holding the walkie tightly between your hands as you listened intently.

"But still, I walked up to see what was happening and the place was filled with cops, army even, and well, ambulances. I had never seen something like that. And the weird thing is that there were some people from school there, Harrington for one, I also saw some kids from middle school and… Y/N was there…"

A chill ran up and down your spine when you heard him say your name. This person, the one you've been listening to in what was supposed to be a dead channel, the one who chased away the cold feeling of loneliness; knew you. Your lips hung open in shock, he said your name with such ease. He saw you there, he recognized you from a distance and under the blinking lights of the ambulances. Your chest constricted around your heart, squeezing tightly up towards your throat. You wanted to know him too.

You felt guilty for not being able to pinpoint who he was. Okay, the sound of a voice through a walkie-talkie is not the best or clearest. Still, if he knew you so easily, he definitely went to the same school as you, had the same classes, walked the same hallways.

Raising a hand, you rubbed your eyes and clawed at your hair. Urging yourself to think of someone, anyone.

"She- I saw her, she was sitting by herself in the back of an ambulance and I think she was crying. I'm not sure but, she looked so beat up, and- and hurt and I was walking, I mean, I was going to walk up to her to see if she was okay but a cop didn't let me. Maybe for the best, would just end up scaring her more I guess. To be honest, I don't know why I'm talking about it, I just felt like… Nevermind."

Scare you?

Your unfocused eyes stared ahead for long seconds. The cold from the tiles seeping through your body because of your bare feet.

One person came to your mind.

You hugged yourself, arm closing around your abdomen, feeling the cold, bruised skin underneath.

You thought of soft and unruly brown curls, tattoos, metal band t-shirts, and leather jackets.

You had never talked with him, shared maybe one class, literature; he rarely said anything then too. You passed by each other in the hallways, and you once caught him watching you in the cafeteria, he had been so flustered when it happened that you found it adorable. You then started shooting him small smiles here and there, and he reciprocated with big ones of his own.

Robin told you about him once. The School's Freak, she said people called him.

______

There was no way for you to be completely sure it was him, it's not like you could walk up to him one day and ask about it.

But you did start paying more attention to him, Eddie. It was hard when you only had him in the same class as yours one time, and other than that, only bumping into each other in the hallways didn't leave much room to observe.

You could walk up to him and talk, he seemed sweet. You didn't have all that courage yet though.

So you kept on listening, and your eyes kept on searching for him in the crowds. A few months went by like that, and you grew attached to someone you had never talked to.

December 6, 1985

Cold wind was raging outside and you were glad to have a working heater in your house. No amount of it felt enough though, as you sat on the carpet in front of the lit fireplace.

Your dog lay beside you, as you annoyed yourself by trying to set up the Christmas tree; it was a bit too big for the flower pot you had at home.

Slowly letting go of the branches, you said a quiet "yes" when the tree didn't topple over.

You started with putting on the blinking lights, turning them on to bathe the room in a multitude of colors. And as you rummaged through the trinkets, your ears caught in with the familiar static;

"So, I felt like setting up a Christmas tree this year. It's in the kitchen and it's not big, but it's there. I- I even bought some lights and there were some ornaments tucked away in a box that I found…"

The walkie was resting on top of your couch and you found yourself yet again smiling alone because of the pure happiness that came from your unusual companion.

"Christmas was never a very… happy holiday for me but, maybe this year will be better."

"I hope it is." You caught yourself answering back quietly, for no one to hear.

January 3, 1986

Winters could be pretty harsh on Hawkins. The break was over and it just so happened to be pouring rain on the first day back to school.

The skies were grey, heavy drops of water hitting the pavement as you turned the wheel into the parking lot. Of course, it was packed with cars, no one wanted to walk when it was raining.

You groaned as you pulled up in one of the farthest spots from school. Closing the zipper of your jacket, you grabbed your backpack and a small yellow umbrella you always had in your car.

The little thing didn't do all that much in keeping the rain from reaching you, with help from the wind, the only part of your body you managed to keep dry was your head. With one hand holding the umbrella and the other a strap of your bag, you took quick steps towards the school; walking forward with purpose when actually you should be paying attention to the puddles and many leaves the wind knocked down last night.

Water splashed around your boots, but before you could even get annoyed at that, your foot was slipping on brown leaves; the motion sent you falling back and you could only think of your backpack being submerged in the puddle.

It never happened though. You closed your eyes bracing for the impact, and instead felt two arms around your waist, your back hitting someone's chest instead.

"Woah hey, careful. That would've been a disaster."

You clutched your sorry excuse of an umbrella, slowly standing up and removing yourself from the embrace that caught you. His voice reverberated through your body in the form of a shiver, making your heart pump blood faster. The tight grip you had on the umbrella was mimicked from the one in your lungs. You couldn't breathe, because you knew that voice.

Turning around, you met the chocolate brown eyes you had been secretly wanting to see this up close for months now.

Eddie looked down at you with the ghost of a smile, he wore a black hoodie to protect himself from the rain; still, some droplets of water clung to his hair and eyelashes, shining.

And your silence must have sent him the wrong message because he stuffed his hands in the hoodie's pocket and took a few steps away from you.

He cleared his throat, eyes moving to look at something over your shoulder. "Yeah, sorry. I just didn't want you to fall, didn't mean to overstep or anything."

You internally kicked yourself multiple times for being a weirdo. "No, you didn't overstep, at all. uh- thank you." You breathed, managing a reassuring smile. "Really, you saved me from a massive embarrassment and from being cold all day."

You quickly maneuvered your umbrella to cover both of you, moving to stand beside Eddie. "Come on, let's get out of this rain."

Eddie's cheeks flushed pink at the unusual kindness. He walked side by side with you, bodies close under the yellow umbrella. Butterflies fluttered inside his stomach because he finally talked to the girl who held his heart's affection.

Once inside the school, Eddie headed to his art class whilst you walked to your science one. He waved a shy goodbye at you and that was it.

Even if you tried, you couldn't possibly concentrate on what the teacher was saying or the notes you were supposed to be taking. Eddie Munson was the lonely stranger who had been keeping you company over the last year. Seeing the clear picture now, you were frustrated for not putting two and two together sooner.

You were fidgeting with the pencil on your hands, biting your tongue until you almost tasted blood because now the person who spoke over the static of the walkie was suddenly so real, so tangible. And if anything, knowing it was Eddie only made your heart swell harder for him.

January 23, 1986

Friday nights were your nights, the time you always gave yourself to simply relax. You'd pick up a movie at Family Video, taking the opportunity to hang out with Robin and Steve at their new place of work for a while; then get home and change into your most comfortable pajamas, make some popcorn, and lunge on the couch. Just as you are now.

You lazily stroked your dog's fur, who was passed out beside you. The lights were off and the only thing illuminating your face where the images on the TV.

Last time you checked it was around 8 PM, but after a long week, your eyes slowly started to drop with tiredness. That is until the walkie-talkie inside your backpack started buzzing with the familiar static, and you were suddenly more awake than ever.

You scrambled to grab it, quickly raising the antenna before throwing yourself onto the couch again. You lowered the volume of the TV, waiting.

You heard a pained grunt first and then;

"Jesus man, they got me good today. Ugh shit- I feel like a truck ran me over or something."

Concern etched itself into your face instantly, you grabbed your blanket closer to yourself, praying for some kind of elaboration from Eddie.

Eddie. It still felt so foreign to have a name for the lonely voice now.

"I should- I should be used to it by now but… I just want it to stop. Whatever man, I'll just strap a band-aid to it and sleep it off."

"No, no, no. Don't do that." You mumbled to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, stomach twisting in anxiousness. Running over every possible scenario in your head, even with most of them Eddie hating you in the end, you decided that you wouldn't leave him alone today.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you were about to do, crossing your fingers for it to not be a mistake.

You pushed the button on the walkie. "You should clean the cut first."

Silence, there was silence for a long time. His voice was smaller when he spoke again, hesitant.

"I- I'm sorry I thought this was a dead channel… No one ever answered, I'm- I didn't mean to.."

"It's okay," you closed your eyes, interrupting him. "It was a dead channel, I think; I just stumbled upon it a while ago — not long, promise — and I heard you, and, I don't know it felt like you could use some company I guess. But then, I- I never really said anything."

You bit your lip, nerves making you tap your knee incessantly. "I sort of just, hung around in case you… I wasn't listening like a creep or something just- I'll switch channels in a minute okay? I just need to know, are you hurt?"

You let go of the button and groaned audibly, facepalming because of your own words.

"A little, yeah."

His quiet voice was a relief, part of you expected him to leave you hanging. You leaned back on your couch. "Okay, uh listen, if it's a cut, you need to clean it up, if you don't have antiseptics just use water. And if it's just a small one, it's best to leave it open, so it can heal on its own."

"You have a lot of experience with this stuff?"

You smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."

Eddie was surprisingly chill about your whole predicament. You walked him through patching himself up. From what he told you it wasn't that bad, just a few punches here and there that would leave him sore for a few days. It still made you feel sick to your stomach though.

Talking with him was easy, the way his voice addressed you made you smile. About an hour had passed when you deemed he was taken care of.

"Hey, I'm sorry for never telling you there was someone else on this channel. It was a shitty move, I just never managed the courage to speak up I guess." You told him before ending the call. "But I promise I'll never switch to it again."

You held the walkie between both your hands, the movie on your TV had long since been over.

"It's okay. Anyone could've found this random frequency, I'm glad it was you. I uh- usually change them, from time to time. But this one was always silent, so I figured I'd stay."

Picking at a loose strand from your blanket, you pressed the button again. "I'm sorry." You mumbled again. "It was never my intention to intrude. Just so you know, I wasn't always listening, to you, I mean… Sometimes it happened but, like I said I thought that maybe one day you might need someone to talk to or something."

Eddie must have heard the worry in your tone because his next words calmed you;

"You don't need to apologize, it's okay. To be honest I don't know why I started doing… this. I guess I just wanted to pretend like someone cared to listen to my whining. It feels- it feels nice to hear a voice answering back for a change. You don't need to leave."

And so you stayed.

______

The routine that you both created was different, to say the least. You didn't realize how much you were dreading having to leave his channel on the walkie until he said you could stay and you felt the weight being lifted from your shoulders.

Now, you were actually talking to each other. You felt like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush each time you heard Eddie's shy voice calling out for you over the walkie-talkie. He was always hesitant, always a bit too quiet in the beginning. But he seemed to enjoy the company just as much as you did.

You saw him at school every day, sharing nothing more than a few 'good mornings' here and there. Maybe he knew it was you who he talked to on the supposedly dead channel. Maybe he suspected it could be you, just like you did in the beginning. Either way, he never asked.

And you didn't either. It was a silent mutual understanding that names didn't need to be exchanged. You knew he felt more comfortable this way, after all, he was sharing his heart out with what he thought was no one before you spoke up.

You let Eddie set the pace, this was his safe space. When he felt ready to talk in person or ask about you, you'd be there.

February 4, 1986

"Come on guys it's no fun if you just stay sitting there," Max complained, before dropping her skate to the ground and making her way to the ramps.

You and Steve sat on a blanket under a big willow tree, one of the few shadows surrounding the skate park. The day was sunny and the place was filled with teens.

"Alright, I think I'll go then." Steve got up, stretching his limbs and picking up the rollerblades. "You coming?" He turned to you.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." You smiled at him. He shot you a smile back before making his way to the cement slopes in the park.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the trees around you.

"Hey, um, you- you there?"

Hearing the sizzled voice coming from the walkie near your backpack, you stretched an arm to grab it; pulling the antenna up and pressing the button. "Hi, yeah, I'm here."

"Cool, is this like, a good time, am I interrupting something?"

You smiled with Eddie's voice, your eyes following Steve's wobbly movements on his rollerblades. You laughed when Max had to rush to him so he wouldn't fall.

"No, it's perfect," You told Eddie.

That was the day you held your first normal conversation with him. He had called just for that, to talk; and your heart just about melted. You told him where you were, told him how a friend of yours was kinda bad at skating and the younger one was a pro. And Eddie told you about going to lunch with his uncle, how the man sometimes was the dad he never had.

March 12, 1986

"And then he just ran over the living room, dragging mud everywhere. God, I was so mad." You giggled, laying down on your bed and holding the walkie over the pillow next to yours.

A soft static came and Eddie's voice followed. You heard his laugh first, making your smile widen.

"I can imagine the mess. But it's so cool that you have a dog, man. I've always wanted a cat, or a dog too."

You turned around, eyes fixed on the pillow beside you, a tiny part of you hoped to see Eddie staring back at you. Outside your window, you caught a glimpse of the evening sun, orange and pink rays announcing its departure for the day. "Yeah, he's good company. Makes me laugh even if I get mad first."

Silence followed after. You closed your eyes, conjuring up an image of Eddie raking his mind over what to say next. It was cheesy. You didn't care.

"You know, I- I've been learning a new song, I play guitar, and I've been learning this new song. It's pretty sick, it's not perfect yet but… Do you- do you wanna hear it?"

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, breathing out a chuckle. Your heartbeat was drumming against your ribcage, happy that he was slowly becoming comfortable enough to share more things with you. "I would love to."

"Okay, here goes…"

You could hear the smile on his words, and as he started strumming the cords on his guitar, you decided that you loved hearing him play.

March 22, 1986

You'd never wanted this to be the way for you to see him again.

After calling a bunch of people and searching up every Rick in town just to find Eddie, then finally getting a hold of him in a secluded house at Lover's Lake and sort of filling him in about what was potentially happening; your friends were now deciding how to continue.

"Are we just gonna leave him here?"

"I mean it's not like we can walk around town with him."

"Then we can, I don't know, stop at a market by morning and bring him some food."

Dustin, Steve, and Robin talked amongst themselves, their faces illuminated by flashlights and the moonlight seeping through the shack's windows. You were leaning against the iron wall in the far corner, gaze trained on the swaying boat but not really focused.

To put it lightly, things went to shit. The upside-down was showing its claws again, but your main concern is that Eddie was being accused of murder.

Slowly, your gaze found him, and the mere sight tore your heart into two. He was slumped down in the opposite corner of the small shack, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking violently; his cheeks had tear tracks on them, no doubt his mind was reliving what he went through.

You wanted to go to him. Hug him close and tell him everything would be okay. But things weren't so simple. Until now, you still hadn't spoken to him in person again. You didn't know where boundaries started or ended.

"Okay, it's settled then." Steve decided. "Hey man, we're gonna bring you something to eat by morning yeah? Until then just… Try and get some rest." He addressed Eddie, who could only look at him.

One by one, your friends exited the fishing shack, walking out into the night, your gaze switched between the door and Eddie's small figure against the wall. You took slow steps to the door but stopped by the threshold.

"Steve," you called for your friend, hand resting on the doorway, "I think I'm gonna stay too, it's not good for him to be alone."

Steve walked back to you with a frown, his sneakers crushing the leaves underneath. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, reaching out a hand to squeeze his. "Yeah it's alright, I don't want him alone."

The look in your eyes didn't leave much room to argue. Steve left with a reassuring smile and the promise of food by morning.

As the car sped off in the distance, you closed the door behind you and turned to Eddie. He hadn't moved, his eyes were clouded with dread.

You took careful steps towards him, wincing at how the old wooden floor screeched beneath your feet. You moved to sit down in front of him, leaning your back on some wooden crates.

"You didn't have to stay." Eddie forced out, with a quiet tone that broke in the middle. His gentle brown eyes were glistening under the fading moonlight.

Gulping down a lump in your throat, you managed a smile. "I wanted to."

Eddie's gaze drifted from yours, the curl on his lips was bittersweet. "It's you, isn't it? Who- who I've been talking to."

You could hear your own heartbeat. "Yeah." You breathed out.

Eddie bounced once in his seat, leaning forward with a real smile. "I knew it!"

His excitement made you chuckle. You thought about how this would happen, you never imagined it this way though. Yet somehow, sitting with him in an old fishing shack in the dead of night while hiding from authorities, felt weirdly right.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, I just didn't want to…" You trailed off.

"Mess it up?" Eddie finished for you and you nodded.

He picked at a loose thread on the rip of his jeans. "Yeah, me neither. I mean, I had a feeling, that it was you, I thought your voice was familiar but… I never had the balls to ask."

Eddie looked up at you then, pupils blown as he took you in. You, the person who became his safe space. The one who could take his breath away with just a simple 'hello'.

Since the first time you shot him a dazzling smile at school his heart had been entranced with you. People rarely spared him the time of day, yet you graced him with a genuine smile every day. And Eddie wholeheartedly meant it the day he said he was glad it was you who found his channel on the walkie.

Back then he didn't know how much he was hurting, aching for someone that would care about him, about listening to him. And that day, when your voice came through the once dead channel, his lungs took a deep breath of fresh air after weeks, months of drowning in murky waters, alone.

Eddie counted the minutes to your conversations each day, it was the best part of his day, the one he looked forward to the most. Talking with you was easy, he became addicted fast, and fell even faster.

You decided that it wouldn't be a problem for you both to sleep inside Rick's house, it's not like anyone would come looking, and sleeping on hard wood or inside a boat was less than ideal.

The house was a mess inside, looking like it had been abandoned for some time. Dust covered the surfaces, most things being out of place and haphazardly thrown around. You searched around for rooms with Eddie close behind you.

There were two bedrooms, you stood in the hallway between both doors. "I can take this one and you take the other?" You pointed to one of the rooms.

Eddie nodded hesitantly, he was fidgeting with his rings, uneasy. You could tell something was bothering him, and you had a feeling about what it was. "Or, we could just take the same room."

"Yeah," Eddie let out a relieved sigh instantly, "please." He was dreading the feeling of being alone. Even if you were in the other room, it was too far.

You both removed shoes and unnecessary layers of clothing, laying down on the bed with a reasonable distance between you. The bed smelled… old, like it hasn't been used in some time, but it looked clean.

Eddie was as stiff as a rock beside you, even not touching him you could feel it. You turned to him, adjusting the covers over you. "Try to relax Eddie, you need to rest."

He breathed out, lower lip wobbling with the motion before he turned to you as well. Eddie clutched the covers closer to his chest, a cheap attempt at seeking some kind of comfort. "You know I didn't do it, right?" He tentatively raised his gaze to yours after he spoke, barely being able to make out your face in the darkness of the room.

You frowned, for a split second wondering what he was talking about until the worry in his voice caught up to you. "Of course I do. Eddie, I- I know you, and I know you would never hurt anyone. It's just not who you are. You're good." In a bold move, you reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing and running your thumb over his knuckles.

Eddie felt his whole body filling with goosebumps at your touch, air getting stuck on his throat as he savored the feeling. He scooted closer to you, only a little, and didn't let go of your hand through the whole night.

March 24, 1986

After Max figured out she was most likely next on Vecna's list, you had to leave Eddie's side to help your friends.

Steve's car was waiting on the side of the road for you to get in, a breeze was flowing through the grey sky, rustling green and brown leaves.

You put on your jacket and prepared to leave Eddie's hiding place, walking to the front door of the neglected house, with Eddie right behind you. You turned to him before you walked outside. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Eddie stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around the house. "Yeah, I don't think anyone will come looking here. Plus, your friends need you."

"You're my friend too." You told him quietly, tilting your head as your eyes remained on him.

Gentle brown eyes found yours, Eddie pursed his lips before taking half a step towards you. He was about to reach out for you but hesitated, clearing his throat awkwardly before lifting a hand to the back of his neck and extending the other for you to shake.

His attempt at pretending he wasn't about to give you a hug made you giggle. You closed the gap between you with a smile, pulling Eddie to you and holding on tightly.

His arms went instantly around your waist and he lowered his head against your shoulder. "Be safe, yeah?"

After being separated from Eddie; Nancy, Robin and you took a trip to Pennhurst, managing to speak with Victor Creel just in time to save Max's life.

March 25, 1986

Between saving Max and finding Victor's abandoned house, only now do you and your friends have time to check up on Eddie.

Your knee was bouncing incessantly the whole car ride there, your stomach was twisting with a weird bad feeling like something wasn't right. And sure enough, when you finally arrived at Rick's old house, it was surrounded by cops, nosy civilians, and the town's reporters. Yellow tapes blocked the access to the area and you just about felt your heart dropping to your ass at the sight; surely going a few shades paler at the thought of anyone finding Eddie.

Luckily, he seemed to have gotten away. Your fists balled in anger when you heard the chief of police making Eddie's name public as the prime suspect of the damned murders.

"Dustin? Can you hear me? Y/N?"

You had never been so relieved to hear Eddie's voice through the familiar crackle and static of the walkie-talkie. Before Dustin could even think of answering, you were already snatching the walkie from his backpack and taking a few steps away from the crowd to answer.

"Eddie? Thank god, you almost gave me a heart attack, are you okay?"

From the other end of the frequency, crouching under a massive rock in the middle of the woods, Eddie dropped his forehead against the walkie held between his shaky hands; a single tear escaping his eye.

"Not really, sweetheart. But shit, it's so good to hear your voice through this thing again, you have no idea."

You smiled, tension leaving your body in waves for the very same reason. "Where are you? I'll come find you."

"Skull rock, you know it?"

"I know where it is," Steve told you, all of you already making a beeline for the car.

The woods you were walking through to find Skull rock were dense, everywhere you looked sort of seemed to be the same place and you could only pray that Steve and Dustin knew where they were headed.

All you could think about was finding Eddie, making sure he was okay, and then never leaving his side again. Leaves and branches crushed beneath your sneakers, Robin and Nancy spoke softly behind you, their voices mixing with the birds singing around the forest. Despite the situation, you found yourself smiling because of the unlikely bond you had formed with the long-haired boy.

Steve squeezed his way past dense bushes with a huge grin, revealing the giant rock. "There she is Henderson, Skull rock. In your face man." He said happily, apparently winning whatever discussion he'd been having with Dustin.

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin said beside you, making you turn your head to him with a soft frown.

"Yeah, even with it staring you right in the face, you can't admit it. You just can't admit that you're wrong, you little butthead." Steve shrugged, lightly mocking the teen.

A loud thud came from behind you, then. Making you jump on the spot and quickly whip your head around.

"I concur, you Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead." Eddie took a deep breath in, hands resting on his hips.

Your lips turned up with a relieved smile, you didn't waste a second before walking the remaining steps towards him. You pulled Eddie to you with a stronger grip than before, closing your eyes to just feel him, there and safe.

"I was so worried, thought they got you." You mumbled against him.

Eddie held you back with the same intensity, one hand running up your spine and to your shoulder blades. "Yeah me too, sweetheart." He squeezed a little tighter, basking in the feeling of comfort only you can give him.

______

You could safely say that being in the upside-down was not on your bucket list. Yet here you were, swinging oars at cursed bats that decided to feast on Steve's torso. The sight was nightmarish, it was your Hawkins, only much darker, with a never-ending red storm in the sky, dust particles that made it hard to breathe, and gross vines crawling everywhere.

And only after — sort of — winning the fight against the bats and losing the creatures with help of the forest; that you finally felt the nagging pain in your leg.

You were walking beside Eddie, who was still freaked out. Steve, Nancy, and Robin just a step ahead amidst the looming trees. It started with just a distant pain that had you limping, then you felt wetness running down your ankle and soon enough you were light-headed, some trees doubling themselves in your vision.

You didn't register you were falling until Eddie was scrambling to catch you.

"Y/N? Shit, don't do this to me. What happened?" He was already on edge and right now it'd be safe to say he was on the verge of panic. He had both arms under yours, maneuvering you to sit on the ground with your back against his chest.

His voice alerted the others, who came running back.

Nancy crouched in front of you, concern evident on her face as she checked for injuries. "I think she was bitten on her leg."

She lifted your jeans slowly, causing you to groan with the sharp pain shooting up and down your leg. You could feel Eddie squeezing your hand, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder as you heard his soft voice telling you you'd be okay.

Using Eddie's bandana, Nancy managed a tourniquet around your leg. The bleeding ceased to a minimum, and you allowed yourselves at least five minutes to breathe given that you and Steve had been hurt pretty badly.

Eddie rested his back against a nearby tree, and even if you asked, you didn't think he'd let you go. So you remained in his arms, comfortably resting back onto his warm chest.

He had his arms wound around your abdomen, grip never wavering. You brought a hand over his, brushing over his knuckles.

You felt him tense momentarily behind you, then he started lazily playing with your fingers. "Getting back at me for making you worry earlier?"

A chuckle escaped you, leaning your head back on his shoulder. "Something like that, yeah."

Several heartbeats passed before you felt Eddie turning his head, his lips grazed your hairline. "I can't lose you, man. I just- can't."

His voice came out quiet and broken, if you weren't literally feeling his breath against your ear, you wouldn't have heard. Goosebumps filled your body, you grasped his hand in yours.

"You won't." You promised.

March 26, 1986

It was almost bittersweet, the momentary peacefulness of the green fields, when you knew what you would be heading into soon. The place was gorgeous, a hidden treasure maybe. The blue of the sky contrasts with the endless grass plains, with numerous trees surrounding the clearing.

You sat by the trailer Eddie and Steve stole, preparing molotovs with Robin. You opened one of the bottles, pushed the cloth inside, and heard a familiar laugh in the distance; looking up, you saw Eddie wrestling with Dustin, both boys running around on the green field with smiles on their faces.

"How's your leg?"

Robin's voice from beside you made you aware of your own smile. You tried to hide it, focusing back on your task, but not before stealing a last glance towards Eddie. "It's better. Bothering a little but nothing I can't handle."

When Robin didn't answer, you glanced up to meet her eyes. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, making you raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

"You two are adorable, y'know?" Robin mused, smile persistent as she put another finished molotov to the side.

"We're friends, Robin." You grumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Oh yeah, you totally are."

From far away, Eddie swung his newly made shield around, with an excited bounce on his feet. "Hit me, Henderson."

Dustin jabbed the makeshift spear into Eddie's shield, both of them smiling when both weapons held up well.

Twirling the spear in his hands, Dustin rolled his eyes when he noticed Eddie sneaking a glance towards the stolen trailer for the thousandth time. "When were you going to tell me about her anyway?"

Eddie's head snapped towards Dustin, and he straightened in his stance, both hands holding the shield to his chest. "What are you talking about, man?"

Dustin spread his arms and pointedly raised his eyebrows as if to say 'seriously?'; "you and Y/N obviously, when did that happen and why am I always the last one to know?"

"There's nothing to know and nothing to tell, alright? We're just friends." Eddie told him nervously, pushing away strands of hair that the wind had brought to his eyes. "She deserves much better anyway." He grumbled to himself.

The incredulous look on Dustin's face would have been comical if he hadn't all but shouted his next words; "spare me, dude, everyone can see it, you like each-"

"Jesus christ, shut it Henderson." Eddie sprinted towards him, shield pointed at the boy who had no other option than to stop talking and defend himself.

______

The moment you crossed the portal back to your Hawkins, and Eddie hesitated, you could swear you felt your heart freezing in your chest. Before he even cut the rope, you were already begging him not to do it.

The makeshift rope fell on your hands and he might as well have plunged the spear right into your heart. Eddie was looking up at you from the upside-down and your throat was already closing with dread, you were screaming at him, words you couldn't even remember. When he walked away from the portal with the promise to come back, for the first time, you didn't believe him.

Everything had happened in a haze, you told Dustin to not dare move as you managed a way up and back through the portal. The wounds on your leg were stinging with each of your movements, more so as you hit the ground on the cursed side of Hawkins.

Your pain hadn't been a concern then, the sole thing on your mind was to find Eddie. You had thrown open the trailer door and ran out into the upside-down world as fast as your legs could carry you, not stopping once, sneakers thudding against the grey ground.

When you saw the swarm of bats circling only one spot, in a hurricane-like manner, hundreds of them going from the ground and up to the sky; you knew Eddie was there, in the eye of the storm. With no regard for your own safety, air stuck in your lungs in a mix of fear and adrenaline, you ran to him.

You could remember the particles in the atmosphere clouding your throat, the blood flowing down your leg.

You had found him there then, tears collecting on the bottom lid of your eyes. You didn't stop though. Eddie was on the ground, with the tail of one of the bats around his neck and a few others trying to claw at his abdomen.

What lasted about five seconds felt like an eternity. You had spotted Eddie's spear, grasping it tightly in your hands and slicing the bat's tail clean off its body, aiming for the ones attacking Eddie next.

When Eddie stumbled up beside you, wobbly on his feet but still standing, shield in his hands; you had already felt a faint relief.

Not even a minute after, all the bats surrounding you were falling from the sky as some sick resemblance of rain. Dead. You thanked whoever did it. Dropping down to your knees — to catch the first real huff of breath ever since the rope had fallen heavily in your hands — you looked Eddie over, who had also been breathing heavily beside you. He was hurt, yes; a few bites and scratches here and there, but he was okay. No air seemed to be enough for you though, almost like the beginnings of a panic attack that you tried to chase away.

Eddie had extended a hand to you, you had seen the worry in his eyes that no doubt were mimicking yours.

And that had been the last look you gave him. You had pushed his hand away weakly, standing up on your own, with legs that almost didn't have enough strength to carry you. Your chest was going up and down with difficulty. You had dropped the spear to the ground with a thud, slowly limping back to the portal on the trailer. Eddie followed, you didn't look at him.

Now — after Steve, Nancy and Robin had found their way back through the portal as well, and you all but collapsed into Steve's arms because your body had simply given up — you sat on the couch at the back of the stolen trailer. Steve was driving, telling everyone all about the fight with Vecna, Nancy sat on the passenger's seat and Robin sat with Dustin near the front, along with Max, Lucas, and Erica after you picked them up.

And Eddie, given his home still sported a portal — a slowly retreating one, but it was still there — sat beside you. You put a distance between you both though, pressing yourself against the end of the couch and looking out the window.

You could feel the way his eyes hardly left you, most likely wondering why you were so quiet. Thing is, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Eddie, or talk to him. Anger was bubbling inside you because of what he did, because of how reckless his actions were. You knew the raw fear was lingering too, however.

"Hey guys, where should I drop you off?" Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror.

"I'll go to uh-" Eddie started, but you spoke over him.

"My house, he's coming with me."

"Yeah that- that's exactly what I was going to say." Eddie agreed quickly, his hands incessantly fidgeting with the hem of his green vest.

Your house arrived quickly, you said goodbye to your friends with a tight hug to each of them, making them promise to take care of themselves whilst they made you do the same.

The night was cold as you slowly limped your way up the stone path that lead to your front door. The lights on the house were turned off, you weren't surprised. It was late, you didn't know how late but the whole town seemed to be asleep already, unaware of the evil that had once again been defeated just minutes ago.

Eddie walked close behind you, one hand lingering against his stomach as the other stayed ready to catch you if you stumbled.

You hadn't bothered to lock your front door and for once you were happy about it, your guard dog came running to greet you, making a beeline for the stranger behind you.

"Hello to you too." You grumbled to your dog and turned on the lights in the living room.

"Oh, it's your dog, hey dude." Despite his wounds, Eddie was happy to crouch down and shower your dog with pats. Huge smile on his face as he bit his lower lip, fingers disappearing amongst the fur.

From your place in the hallway, you stole a glance at them. Instantly, tears were prickling at the back of your eyes.

Shaking your head, you walked to your bathroom. Turning on the lights, you winced at how the white tiles reflected the brightness. Bracing yourself on the sink counter, you met your own eyes in the mirror. To say you look awful would be a massive understatement. You had a rather big cut on your cheek that you didn't even know was there before now, droplets of blood and dust covered a good part of your skin, your hair all over the place, and not even counting how your whole body was complaining in pain.

You definitely needed a vacation.

Eddie slowly appeared behind you, brown eyes finally being able to find yours through the mirror. You saw how his hand reached out for you, and how he pulled it back before he could touch you.

"Are you- are you okay?"

And his voice was so gentle, so soft that you wanted to grab him and not let go, ever. You closed your eyes, lowering your head with a sigh and gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles turned white.

Eddie shuffled, now standing beside you. He was confused, worried. His body was screaming at him to just hold you, but now, he was afraid of overstepping. "Are we just… not gonna talk?"

"Just sit down." You told him, voice steady.

He nodded, gulping down his feelings as he sat on the edge of the tub and you grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink.

You opened the small box, rummaging through mainly for antiseptics and bandages. You silently motioned for him to take off his shirt.

Eddie tried to do it on his own, but when the movement of raising up his arms elicited more than one pained grunt from him, you stepped in, carefully lifting his shirt above his head.

Seeing the gashes on his skin got your breath stuck in a massive lump in your throat. It wasn't too bad, but there was still blood and he was still hurt. In the back of your mind, you thought about the first time you answered him on the walkie.

"We can count this as progress right?" Eddie tried, a tender smile gracing his lips, his eyes looking up at you with blown pupils. "Last time you were giving me instructions, now you get to do it yourself." Apparently, he remembered it too.

His words made the tiniest smile come to you, which made his only get bigger.

You treated Eddie's wounds with the utmost care. Cleaning them up the best you could and closing the bigger gaps with white bandages that would soon be painted a slight red.

You didn't notice the unsteadiness of your hands, how they shook over his wounds; or the permanent frown on your eyebrows, or the lone tear that escaped your eye and slid down your cheek when Eddie hissed when you touched a particularly sensitive spot on his skin.

Eddie noticed.

Leaving the small cut on his jaw for last, you crouched in front of him, biting the inside of your cheek and raising a hand to clean his face.

Eddie's gaze was heavy, dark eyes fixated on you. You could see the turmoil going on inside his head.

He winced slightly when the wet cloth made contact with his skin, you mumbled an apology. Being so concentrated on what you were doing, you jumped a little when you felt his fingers gently grazing your cheek, over the dried tear track.

A shaky exhale passed through your nose, you met his eyes and saw they were glistening under the bathroom lights; swimming in the feelings he kept guarded inside his chest.

"Talk to me sweetheart, what's wrong?" Eddie asked tentatively, dry lips hanging open, waiting for an answer that never came. "Please." He tried again, quieter.

As much as you might want to, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You let your hand fall to your lap, avoiding his eyes, you were basically sitting on the floor now.

Eddie pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes roamed your face for a minute and then he was standing up and left the bathroom.

You frowned, but didn't follow after him. You heard as he walked back, your back was still turned to the door and you focused on the sound of his movements.

Eddie sat down against the wall to your right, hissing sharply at the cold tiles, his knees tucked close to his chest. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently dropped the walkie-talkie on your lap, before hugging his knees with one hand, the other holding onto his own walkie.

The grey device on your hands was nothing but a blur through your tears.

You heard the familiar crackle and static. You almost broke down then and there.

"I know you don't wanna talk right now, at least not with me. I just hope you know that I'm here, and I'm- I'm gonna be here whenever you feel ready."

You heard his voice, both from the walkie and from right beside you.

"And… I also hope you know that you're like, the most important person in my life, I think you don't even know how much you've helped me. You're the one thing that takes my mind off of all the bullshit this town has thrown at me… Shit, you make me happy, and maybe you're much more than anything I'd ever deserve; but I'm here for you too, so if you could just- just give me a sign that you're okay, I'll give you peace, or space, or whatever you need. I just need to know if you're okay, please."

Eddie finished, voice growing quieter by the end. He let go of the button on his walkie, making the device sizzle with static.

The tears in your eyes were on the brink of spilling over, chest impossibly tighter. You chanced a glance to the side, to him.

Some tears clung to Eddie's eyelashes, and a few others made their way down, collecting on the end of his chin or stopping at the corner of his lips. His eyes were pleading, burning a hole through your soul.

Running your tongue over your lips, you carefully raised the walkie to your lips. You pressed the button, hesitating only a split second.

"I'm okay, as… okay as one can be after that, but…" You started slowly, each word following a beat of your heart. "Damn it, Eddie, I thought I lost you."

Throwing away the walkie-talkie, you turned your body to him. "Do you have any idea, of the panic I felt when you cut that damn rope? What were you even thinking?"

Eddie put down his own walkie, opening his mouth to answer. You didn't let him;

"It was so- reckless." You uttered out shakily, running a hand through your hair, brows scrunched in anger. "I mean you- you could have fucking died for those damn things if I hadn't gotten there in time, and for what? A little extra time?"

You didn't register you were crying, you didn't register the sobs; and when Eddie reached a hand out for you, you slapped it away. "You don't get to tell me to be careful, or- or say that you can't lose me when you do stuff like that. This goes both ways for fucks sake." Your tone was louder, wobbly, mixed with sobs and tears as you groaned in frustration and hastily wiped your cheeks.

You only noticed that Eddie had successfully managed to grab you when you were pressed against his warm chest. Your head tucked against his neck as both his arms closed around you tightly. Both your legs became a mess of tangled limbs, Eddie lowered his lips to the crown of your head, squeezing you to him and mumbling countless "I'm sorry" and "I'm here" and "it's okay".

His skin was warm under your hands. Your ear, resting just above his heart, allowed you to hear the constant thudding; the reassuring sound slowly but surely calming your trembling body and ragged breathing.

"I never wanted to hurt you. Promise." Eddie spoke against your skin, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your body. "I- when I saw the bats, breaking through the door, all I cared about was keeping you safe. I knew I had to draw them away from you and Dustin. Maybe it was selfish but, I couldn't risk them getting through that thing to reach you."

Shaking your head, you pulled away only enough to look at him. Finally being able to take him in, he was just as much of a mess as you were. The sight made you chuckle.

Eddie felt his heart bursting with warmth at the sound of your laugh, a small smile coming to him as well.

You reached up, thumb carefully tracing the outline of his lower lip, engraving the image of him to your heart forever. He leaned towards your touch. You almost kissed him.

"Just, please promise me you won't do anything this reckless ever again."

Eddie hummed, his hands around your waist tentatively pulling you towards him. "For you, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." His words held a playful tone, accompanied by a cheeky grin. They also held the truth.

"And I'd go after you in a heartbeat." You raised an eyebrow at him, your hand burying in his hair.

"Good, then we got each other's backs on our reckless decisions," Eddie mumbled, his breath ghosting over your lips.

He glanced down to your lips with a silent question, a plea. You answered by closing the gap between you, both hands cradling the back of his head and pulling him to you desperately, urging for closeness.

Here, with your body flush to Eddie's, his lips mapping yours in a motion of love; you couldn't be happier for having stumbled upon him on that dead channel.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this story. It was one that took weeks of writing, rewriting, and editing, so feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated so I can keep bringing you these stories. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @alicefallsintotherabbithole @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @palah @witchbinchstories

@call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @harringt8ns @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88 @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh

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