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mechaknight-98 · 2 months

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Reciprocal Feelings (NSFW) FT Natty

Authors note: a little something special for Valentine's day, especially since Natty is exceptionally hot.

You were surprised when your 118th match on Tinder messaged you “Can you come through tonight?” and even more surprised at you doing so.

You arrive at the hotel 45 minutes later. When you enter the lobby you see your match’s smiling face. Her cute expression puts your previous worries about meeting her away and replaces them with other concerns but more on that later. Her outfit accents her curvaceous body while still leaving more than enough to the imagination. You walk over to her and she smiles at you

“Vlad right?” your match asks

“Yeah, you got it.” You affirm

“Natty.” Your match responds while going in for an awkward hug. She breaks the hug and says “Let’s go to my room.” You nod and follow.

You arrive at the 8th floor or so of the luxury hotel where Natty eyes you nervously as she watches you pace. To ease this you sit next to her.

“Be gentle” she says. You hesitate but know what you should do

“Are you sure about this?” You ask

“Yes!”Natty asserts pushing her breasts closer together hoping to entice you into not asking any more questions but with the redness of her eyes as if she was about to cry. You felt that was the wrong call.

“Really?” you ask

“Yes, why don't you think so?”Natty insists again

You grab her hand gently to show her how much she's shaking. She breaks into tears shortly after as she withdraws into your chest. You let her sob for a while.

“So what's the rush?” you ask eventually when Natty stops crying.”

“My members have been making fun of me for not having lost my Virginity,” Natty says through ugly tears and a dejected sigh.

You scowl as that was an extremely unconventional response “That's dumb,” you respond skeptically before you can think about your answer. You watch her eyes droop further in sadness which keys you into that response being the wrong one.

Still sniffling Natty looks at you again“Well, that's not the full truth. They make fun of me for not having a partner and boys only want one thing” Natty clarifies. You listen and now try to formulate the proper response

“Um,” you say unsure how to respond to that specific concern.

Natty looks at you confused and worried “Wait what was that “um” about?”Natty asks. You take your time as you consider your response

“I was trying to figure out how to respond to your previous statement which there is a lot to unpack about the statement,” you answer Natty looks at you surprised

“Why?”Natty asks. She looks at you wide-eyed as she thinks to herself. “Oh, he's different.”

Knowing that this was going to be. The long answer you pinch the bridge of your nose as you think Natty smirks at this thinking to herself, “he's thinking hard about this, which means he cares.”,

You sigh as you begin your answer “Well our culture (for better or worse) propagates that physical intimacy is the only worthwhile intimacy worth pursuing and that is the true manifestation of a mature and healthy relationship at least to men. All of our advertising, cultural relevance, and prominence is tied to “find woman, fight for woman, get woman, breed woman, repeat” and that's it. While I understand from a biological psychology reason why that would arise it isn't (and shouldn't be ) the end all be all for every man. Now, there are some who it is. However for the most part if you take the sexual enculturation out of us all you'd probably see sex become less of a main focus and more emotional intimacy or intellectual intimacy rise. Now for me, the way to my heart is through my stomach but that's because my mom’s love language was quality time and gift which for her translated to extravagant meals due to her being a world-renowned chef. For example, do any of your members have multiple exes?”

“Yes, my unnie Julie has 4,” Now atty says excitedly. She's excited to be engaged like an adult but also elated that you're taking her concerns seriously and not just diving into “getting physical” Also world renowned chef made her consider that he'd make a great house husband.

“How does she talk about them? Does she have them categorized in different ways for example is one referred to as the kind one where she talks about his overwhelming kindness, or does she have one whom she and her ex-partner whom she only talks about the mind-blowing sex she had with them?” you ask Natty’s eyes widen as two of Julie’s exes immediately pop into her head as she nods. Julie would often describe them in the categories you mentioned. As she goes to respond your stomach rumbles.

“Are you hungry?” you ask Natty. She nods and you respond “If it's okay with you let's grab something. My treat.” Natty. smiles wide at you before making noises of glee. “You will be mine” was all she could think about while you walked to your car.

3 months later you're taking a flight to South Korea to visit Natty for Valentine’s day. The flight was unpleasant but you endured for your love. Upon arrival, you thanked Zeus that he didn't find it within himself to strike you out of the sky. After that you make it to the hotel you'd be staying at for the time being. When you check in the attendant says that you'll find the accommodations suitable for your situation. You try not to scowl at the phrasing but it's kind of hard to do so. Regardless you ride the elevator up to your room. When you settle in you get a call from your friend Max. He tells you about this incredible girl he was dating named Yu Jimin. The picture he sent you of her made you laugh.

“Um, dude do you know who that is?” you text back to Max. Max sends back a confused emoji and you laugh audibly. You sent back a screenshot of a Google search and waited for Max to reply. Before he could though you got a text from Julie saying that Natty was ready to be picked up. So shaking off your fatigue you make the trek to her building. On the way you get flowers. You arrive at her building shortly thereafter as you walk inside Natty walks out. She sees you and gives you that adorable massive smile that radiates lovesick puppy energy. You smile back and present the flowers as she runs to you. She hugs you tightly and says “It's so good to see you Vlad.” she breaks the hug and quickly leans into your ear and whispers “I can't wait for you to destroy this pussy when we get back to your hotel room.” her words cause you to shudder and you barely hold off on pitching a tent in your pants. As she steps away she squeezes your arm in excitement. Unfortunately, she squeezes your bandaged right arm. You since which is when she finally notices it. Natty frowns and then hits your not (visibly) injured shoulder. When she sees you wince she scans you once over and notices all of the other scrapes and bruises covering you.

“What happened to you?” she demanded

“Max and I got attacked by a giant lion during one of his digs, best not to worry we'll be okay. No rabies just injured for the time being,” you explain as you gesture to the various cuts and scrapes. Natty scowls at you, but she knows that while she prefers you not have flown in this condition she knew you were not missing Valentine's day. Come to Hell or High Water or in this case Lions, Tigers Bears oh my.

“So how does it feel?, having your globe-trotting boyfriend visit you on Valentien’s day” you ask. Natty beams with an annoyed smile as the two of you walk out together. She has taken the flowers and is purposefully ignoring the cheers and jeers of the rest of her group.

She follows you back to the hotel flowers in her hand smile plastered across her face.

“It’s nice especially since you’re here Vlad.” Natty eventually says as you exit the building together.

Before y'all reached the hotel the both of you decided to stop at the k-bbq place on the way. The last time you had visited Korea this was the place Max, Gally, and Danger met while you talked about the next dig (the one you just finished) and recapped the previous one (the one before that). You and Natty sit down and begin to catch up.

“So what did you think about the comeback?”Natty asked

“Oh, you looked stunning. Every outfit you wore made you look better than the others. I am super sorry I couldn't make it but you know with the digs they could discover something, but the next concert I'm there regardless of anything.” Natty smiled at your fervor for her. She knew you would move the sun the moon and the stars if you could to make her happy. She did feel bad sometimes as she couldn't always reciprocate those feelings but did her best. She loved you in her own way. She was captivated and enthralled by your academic mind. But also you heart had shown her what unconditional love looked and felt like so she had a vision and a goal. Meanwhile, you were just so caught up in how remarkable she was. You were six months older than her but she had already accomplished so much so young. Being an international megastar. Almost debuting on one of the most publicized survival shows in the history of K-pop. Debuting not once but twice, and completely reinventing herself. You often felt inadequate next to her so you compensated by being the best trophy boyfriend you could be. Natty takes her place next to you on the right. In the booth, the to of you got assigned. This allowed you both to eat together without being in the other’s way as she was right-handed and you were left handed.

(Short aside you are not a trophy husband by the by. You are remarkable in your own right)

The two of you eat together in relative silence. Flirty silence but silence nonetheless. Some hand hand-holding here. Some hair fixing there. Overall just tame stuff. That was until Natty made a sudden move and “accidentally” forced her tits all over your hands. As you try to lessen the awkwardness Natty gives you a mischievous smile. “Can't wait sweetheart?” she coos. As she looks into your eyes her hand slinks down to your crotch. She slips her hand under the waistband, but wait the waitress is coming to take your order. Natty looks up innocently as she continues to inch her hand closer to your cock. You keep your composure as the two of you order another round of food. After that, she leans into your shoulder and breathes heavily into your ear as she grasps your cock. You jolt which only eggs her on more as she nibbles on your earlobe.

“What's gotten into you?” ask concerned. Natty has always been bold but this is a new height for her.

“What I can't worship my boyfriend’s big cock before I have it creampie this wet pussy?” Natty says as she continues to stroke you. Her eyes are lidded seductive and full of lust as she speaks. Her tone is that of an errotic whisper like a siren.However, her words make you laugh. Natty had done the whole sexy act multiple times and it was always so cute because she tried so hard. Your laugh caused Natty to pout acutely before increasing the fervor of her handjob.

“Babe please we in public.” you struggle as you stifle a moan. Natty’s mischievous grin returns.

“Um no.” she teases as she continues to jerk you. You hate to admit but her actions arouse even more. You love her aggression. Her eyes widen as she stares into yours watching you writhe and squirm under her touch.

“I love watching you ride the edge until you can't take it anymore,” she says as she feels you inch closer to the finish and her hand is drenched in your precum, but just as you are about to explode she stops, Mostly because it coincides with more food arriving. You'd be furious if you weren't so hungry so you manage to calm down. As you eat you get a call from me.

“Yeah Danger,” you say as you pick up the phone. I noticed a hint of laboring in your voice.

“Everything good Vlad?” I ask

“Yeah just flew into Korea last night and am a little tired,” you respond as you still are shaking off the sensitivity you felt from your girlfriend’s recent escapades.

“Oh well if that's the case, I'll be flying in next week as well we can go into more detail about what's the plan for the next dig. Go over what you all want me to observe and record for the b-roll since you're the director for this. It sounds like you are exhausted so letting you rest may be better,” I respond

You smile relieved that you have time to think before any intense choices need to be made. Especially since a little minx is just waiting at the edge of your vision. I hang up the call wishing for a pleasant farewell and you get back to eating.

“Who was that?” Natty asked

“Oh, that was just Dangerfield the videographer for the digs and seminars.”

“I thought that was you.”Natty Says confused.

“No, I'm just director of photography and head photographer.” you answer Natty nods in understanding as she begins to stroke you again. She smiles watching you try to keep composed.

“Hey is Danger like us?” natty said slowly stroking you

“Asian?” you ask hesitantly. “No, he's super black,” Vlad says flatly to Natty who rolls her eyes.

“No. I mean ascendant?” she asks

“I'm actually not sure but enough about him it's your special day and I want to indulge you,” you say as you kiss her forehead. Natty smiles as you go back to eating. You decide to give her a taste of her own medicine as your offhand inches back down her crotch and past her panties. You hear Natty stifle a gasp as she leans in.

“Oh someone wants their dessert early,” Natty says holding a moan off. You ignore her and have your fingers circle around her clit, as you eat. Natty whispers progressively dirtier and dirtier things to you that I can't repeat. Yet undeterred you send one finger into her pussy which is soaked right now. You stay calm as she begins to beg to cum.

“Please let me cum on your finger. I don't care if wee in public let me cum please. I need it.” Natty begs. You chuckle and when you feel her pussy clench in the way it does before she would climax you remove your hand. The two of you finish eating after that on edge waiting for the other to make a move.

When the two of you arrive at the hotel Natty growls at you, and rips your pants open as soon as the door closes.

“No more foreplay wreck this pussy like you stole it.” Natty demands as she tears off her clothes as soon as she gets yours off.

You don't even bother taking the rest of your shirt off and plunge into her bedraggled pussy.

“You like that?” you ask as you slap Natty’s bodacious ass.

She moans your name and a string of incoherent noises after. As you pound her the squelching sounds of her pussy egg you on further.

“I still need to fuck your ass natty, but not tonight. Tonight this pussy is mine,” you state authoritatively as you pull the bent-over girl by her hair.

“I love how your cock fills my tight pussy.” Natty says as her pale ass bounces and ripples with each thrust. You look into her eyes full of desperation and need.

“You're such a dirty slut now,” you say to Natty. Her pussy grips you fighter as if she liked it. So as you thrust you test your hypothesis.

“Who'd have thought that you'd be so into such filth? Trying to get off in public love? When we met you were Miss Prim and Proper Princess now you're a common whore.” you say. Tears begin to flow from Natty’s eyes as her pupils roll back into her head. When you see tears though you automatically stop.

When Natty comes back to her senses and calms down she asks, “Why did you stop?”

“Because you were crying. Look I'm all for pushing boundaries and finding kinks but I draw the line tears.” you say which makes Natty feel even safer with you. She begins to cry and lets out how she doesn't deserve you and how you're too good for her.

“Natty um where is this coming from?” you ask confused not expecting this to be the conversation of the hour.

“You're always there for me and I have not once been to a seminar or a dig site for you, and it tears me up. I haven't even had time to go to one of your galleries.” Natty adds.

You shrug, “Why are you worried about that? You are busy with almost endless schedules and performances.” you say to comfort her as you hold her. Natty’s eyes are still misty as the two of you spend the rest of the night eating chocolate and cuddling.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #kiss of life #kiss of life natty #natty #natty smut #kpop smut

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heespect · 14 days

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꒰ Unforgattable . . ‧₊˚✩

pairing :: non-idol!Jake x nerd!reader

trope :: rivals academy

sinopse :: You used to be the standout student in the class, of course, that was until Jake came into your life. However, you would be wrong to think that he would want to be in your shoes. In fact, he wanted you.

wc :: 2,1k

You've always been proud of being the number one student in the classroom.

Owner of excellent grades, standout student, and class representative for almost three consecutive years. This was Park (y/n), the darling of both parents and teachers. To be honest, most of the time you'd be defined as a "nerd," but that was never a problem for you.

No matter what your peers said, at the end of the day, it was always (y/n) who would shine the brightest in school and consequently secure a good quality of life in the future due to your efforts and studies in the present.

Your life had been like this since childhood, nothing had changed, and even if it did, there were few chances of someone appearing and being better than you in studies.

But lo and behold, the universe decided to send a specific person your way this year: Jake Sim.

Jake was the Australian boy whose family suddenly decided to move from the country and ended up in Korea. You remember when you met him, he was sitting at the back of the room, hanging out with a troublesome boy you had never spoken to.

He wasn't ugly, in fact, he was very handsome, but you didn't care about high school romances at the time. The Australian was basically a good-looking and popular boy, definitely not some rare kind of nerd.

But curiously, that turned out to be the opposite.

It was a spring afternoon, the sun shining excessively warm, making the students sweat under their hot uniforms. Lunchtime had ended a few minutes ago, and as a good representative, you were helping to bring order among your classmates, making sure everything would be in place before the physics teacher arrived.

As usual, Jake and Lee Heeseung - the boy he befriended the first time he arrived - came in, chatting animatedly about some topic that wasn't of your interest.

"Go to your seat, Lee..." You ordered patiently, lifting your chin towards your seat.

Heeseung grumbled, shrugging his shoulders and winking at some girl as he dragged himself to his seat with Jake by his side.

The Australian, on the other hand, looked at you, for the first time since he joined your class. It was a different look, nothing special, but you swore you saw a fleeting smile.

The teacher finally enters the room, and the murmurs gradually cease until there is a vast silence. As a good student, you sit in the front row, with good posture and pencils immediately in hand, ready to write down the lesson topic.

"Good afternoon, students, sorry for the delay!" Professor Choi opens, spreading endless spreadsheets on his desk. "Long afternoon correcting papers and crying over your terrible grades..."

The teacher chirped, eliciting some laughs from the students. Gradually, he instructed the room to be silent, then began the class.

"Alright, can anyone tell me what singularity is?" The man squints, looking around the room sternly.

Once again, like the nerd you usually are, your hand is immediately raised, waving exaggeratedly for the teacher's attention.

"No one else?" He insists, letting out a sigh before directing his attention to you with a warm smile. "Go ahead, Miss Park."

"A singularity is a region of space where the curvature of space-time becomes infinite, sir," you recite without missing a beat. "The concept was first introduced in Einstein's General Theory of Relativity, where he predicted that if the mass of a star exceeded a certain point, the gravitational force it exerts would become so intense that it would collapse, creating a black hole."

Nerd. Definitely a prime example of a nerd...

"Correct!" Professor Choi smiles proudly. He greatly appreciates students who are as passionate about the subject as he is, and you are one of the brightest people he's ever had the pleasure of teaching.

"Tell me..." He prompts, always seeking to push his students that extra mile, "Could you explain what you mentioned about the General Theory of Relativity?"

"The other day, I came across an analogy while studying. I thought it explained Einstein's theory quite well," you continue. "Imagine a mattress, right? That represents space-time. If you were to sit on it, your weight would cause it to sag. That represents the mass of large objects in the universe, like planets and stars, exerting forces on space-time." You illustrate your explanation with small gestures, biting your lower lip as you try to accurately replicate the phenomenon with outstretched palms. "If you have a lot of matter and energy in one place, the mattress would sag so much that the object would disappear into it, like in a black hole. Right at the center of one, nothing from inside would be able to escape. Not even light. And there's your singularity!"

Professor Choi displayed a wide smile, attentively nodding during his lengthy explanation that lasted almost four minutes. The room was silent, no one could refute his speech, nobody even knew about the subject, and many were just focused on letting the class pass in the most tedious way.

"Excuse me, Mr. Choi?" A voice emerged, distant and probably spoken from the back of the room.

The older man squinted, searching for the figure calling him and immediately focusing on the newcomer. On Jake.

"Yes, how can I help you, Mr. Jake Sim?" The man cleared his throat, probably guessing it might just be a request to go to the bathroom.

"She's wrong..."

His eyes widened, it seemed like the whole world was collapsing at that moment. Simultaneously, all heads turned back in a domino effect, staring perplexedly at the poor boy. You weren't any different, turning your head so fast you could almost break your neck.

The professor looked surprised, but at the same time excited by the sudden appearance of the boy. Well, it wasn't common for many students to participate in his physics class, let alone boys who sat at the back of the room and were almost always unnoticed.

But of course, Jake was different.

He leaned back in his chair with a drawling voice: "She said that nothing can escape a black hole."

"And?" You scoff, feeling your head throbbing: "Are you telling me Einstein was wrong?"

"I'm not saying he's wrong, princess." He quickly retorted, before adding "Stephen Hawking did it. In the 70s."

Teacher Choi was practically on tiptoes at this point, finally starting to see where the boy was leading his argument.

"He found out that black holes evaporate, releasing energy slowly." Jake shrugged: "So, when that happens, where does all the information contained in it go? If it really can't escape, it's not like it can just disappear, be created, or destroyed..." He paused: "It's a paradox."

First, there was a pause. No one seemed to breathe in that environment. Then came the realization.

Professor Choi recovered from his shock-induced pause, applauding him in front of the class.

"Whoa, that's amazing, Jake!" The man was still speechless, but with an impressed look, he turned towards you: "I'm sorry, (y/n)... But Jake is right..."

After that day, your whole life seemed to change.

Sure, it might have seemed like an exaggeration to an outsider, but only God knows how your head was in that moment.

Jake was unbelievably good at every subject, and when I say good, I'm not exaggerating. He could probably ace any math-related subject, he's good at sports, good with languages, and in any stupid club he could get into.

And it annoyed you. It felt like he was committing a sin.

During the first semester, you didn't care much. The tests were already approaching and even if Jake continued to be the new favorite among the teachers, maybe he wouldn't be so good at tests.

You spent almost three weeks studying in advance, reviewing every single detail, and striving for a good score. It was indeed a tough week at school: the tests seemed harder than expected, but fortunately, you had studied all the topics.

Surely, you would be at the top of the school score.

Or not.

Sim Jake 100/100

Park (y/n) 100/100

Two... The damn number two was the cause of your downfall.

As soon as the results came out, you were the first to squeeze into the crowd of students, struggling to get any glimpse of the big board showing the average scores of the students. As always, you imagined yourself being in the top 1, as you always did, but this time it was different.

You were a top 2, you could have done better, but you didn't. You could have answered two more questions correctly, but you didn't.

Heavens, your academic validation practically screamed within you.

"98? You did well, (y/n)," one of your classmates congratulated you from behind, then continued: "oh, Jake must have studied a lot..."

"Whatever, it must have just been luck," you grumbled irritably, marching away from the crowd of students.

You couldn't simply dismiss that score; the next one would be better.

The library was nearly empty, save for the grouchy old lady guarding the entrance.

You walked hurriedly between the shelves, carrying books and notebooks in your arms, almost making them turn red from the weight. Your desk was cluttered with study materials, with hardly any space left for more books.

"Hey, I think this is yours!" You hear a voice behind you, but you didn't even need to turn around to guess whose it was.

"Hm, I don't think so..." you respond indifferently, looking over your shoulder to see the tall figure of Jake Sim right behind you.

And heavens, how handsome Jake looked that afternoon...

"But I saw you carrying this!" He shrugged, beginning to follow when left behind.

"I don't need it, you can put it back if you want."

"What's your problem with me?" Jake muttered softly, sighing heavily.

You decide to ignore him. There were several problems you could list, but suddenly they all seemed too trivial to voice aloud.

"None."

"That's not how it seems."

"What do you expect me to do?" You mock with false humor, forcing a smile and turning to face him.

"Is it because I said you were wrong in physics class?" He raised an eyebrow, taking a step forward.

"No," you deny, not budging an inch.

"Well, even if it were, it's not my fault if you were wrong, princess."

"Don't call me princess," you scoff, already exhausted from conversing with the Australian who was definitely more daring that day.

"You didn't complain the first time I called you that!" He quickly adds, "And it suits you."

Maybe it was the tension of the moment, you were so nervous and grouchy that you didn't realize how close he was getting to you. Jake, on the other hand, just flashed a wide mischievous smile, slowly encroaching any kind of space with you.

"Damn, you're quite the challenge, princess," he grumbles, rolling his eyes. His hands fumble among the shelves of horror books, putting the notebook in your hands.

"That book isn't here, Jake," you roll your eyes, about to put the book back in its place.

"I don't care about stupid books, Park. I want you."

And then, he simply kisses you.

You freeze in place, eyes wide open and almost ready to push him away. Jake, however, keeps his eyes closed and remains still, only his lips pressed against yours.

There was no movement, almost as if he wanted to ensure he wouldn't get slapped during the first few seconds, before finally starting to move.

His lips slowly moved against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist. You closed your eyes, instinctively putting your arms around his neck.

Jake pulled you closer to him, his tongue beginning to invade your mouth until both were vying for space, moving in harmony.

The kiss that lasted a few minutes suddenly broke, the two students panting as they stared at each other motionless.

"Damn (y/n), I don't want good grades, I want to kiss you," he concludes breathlessly, giving one last seal between your lips.

Well, screw being in second place. Kissing Jake Sim in the library was more unforgettable...

#★ (ℋ) 𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 - 𝒲𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x reader #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake #enhypen jaeyun #jake x reader #jake ff #sim jake #sim jake x reader #sim jake x you

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will80sbyers · 9 months

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The difference between these monologues is obvious imo

Mike's monologue to Will:

Shot like a love monologue

Mike starts talking on his own because he wants to save Will

Will is flooded by light, personal close up with emotions of love behind his eyes even when he can't respond

It feels like Mike and Will are the only two in the room even if other people are there

The moment is delicate so it has no music and distractions

Will and Mike are looking at each other in the eyes

They don't lose anybody of the party in season 2 and they win against the bad guy

Simple and well written without clichés

Mike's monologue to El:

Shot like a tragic moment, harsh ugly light, El is literally in a red light and being suffocated

Prompted by Will after a lie he told Mike that Mike believed

Will is framed purposefully behind Mike in the most important parts of the monologue

There are shots of Will and Jonathan in the middle of the monologue making it feel like Mike and El are not alone at all

Full of distractions and with a score called "the Heart" ... From Will's speech and feelings... And we are in the middle of the action with people dying feeling the anxiety from the fear

Even if it gave a bit of strength to El it's not enough to win, they lose Max in the end

When El revives Max they put in the words "there's more to life than stupid boys" right after the love monologue from Mike

It feels impersonal, they don't look at each other face to face really

Full of old ugly romantic clichés instead of being good quality writing that they did with other couples like they didn't really care for it to be good

Finn literally improvised some lines and made it more ugly than the script that was already ugly and they decided it was okay to show to people

No romantic flashbacks of Mike and El, just a platonic one even if they do have romantic scenes that could have conveyed the feelings of love to the fans... They decided to not use them

??????????? This is supposed to be romantic???? To make us feel the romantic feelings between them and make us like this ship ??? I just can't believe this sorry lmao it completely goes against everything I know about cinematography and I do not believe the Duffers suddenly lost their minds

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #el hopper byers #stranger things #mike's monologues #anti mileven

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kunikukitty · 4 months

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Who is he?

✐ wanderer x reader

You are a sucker for beautiful things. Your obsession with beauty could sometimes be described to be unbelievable.

The world is full of beauty, they say. But oh, how wrong they are. Maybe because your eyes only feast on something of a high quality, your standards are unmatched. Or perhaps, the world itself is just full of ugliness that people fail to recognize.

But still, you often find yourself bored as you are deprived to see another pretty little thing.

Well at least, the nature of Sumeru is top tier. No matter how ugly the people are, the nation itself is a sight to behold. The greeny scenery, tall trees that is absolutely pleasing to look at, clear waters that flow within the river, and many more.

Because of this, you're frequently making biased judgments. And worse, you get scammed sometimes. To add to it, you're naturally impulsive. As long as it's something pleasing to look at, it is automatically good— if it does not appeal to your eyes, then it's bad.

However, you are hungry for perfection. So at least, beauty is not beautiful if it has flaws— or so you think.

This does not limit on objects or whatnots, but also towards people. Sure, humans are all good looking— but not to the point that they are attractive to the perspectives of everyone. You rarely see a face so beautiful that belongs to a person whose attitude is also the same. Therefore, you often find yourself disappointed when you try to befriend someone with attractive appearance.

But not all, of course! Kaveh from Kshahrewar has the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen. He has a good heart, but you're too shy to actually try to build a friendship with him. Nilou too, a dancer from Zubayr Theater. Her face is gorgeous, her performances are absolutely flawless. Good for you, she is now your best friend, thanks to your admiration for her.

And then a day comes where your heart almost stopped from beating. You see a beautiful boy— no, that is an understatement. His beauty is otherworldly, something you couldn't describe. His skin is pale, a cool tone, so flawless and white it looked like he's a porcelain doll sculptured with greatest care. His skin color contrasted his indigo hair— with that dark hue, it makes his paleness even more vibrant.

Oh, he barely looks human. Dolls are crafted with the purpose of being good looking, but as you observe the man's appearance, you doubt that dolls could even compare.

How come you've only noticed him today? Is he new, perhaps? After all, if you've been in the same room as him before, he would surely have your attention taken just like right now.

You observe him more while you're standing a little far away, mouth gape open. You're speechless, that much is clear. Who allowed him to exist? Your irises watched his every move, even the way he walks is beautiful.

You almost gasped when he halted his steps and turned his head to your direction, his indigo orbs meeting your own. You swear you could faint just by having an eye-contact with him.

Indigo, just like his hair. You had almost forgotten what Kaveh's eye color is as you continued to stare at whoever this man is. His stare is cold, piercing and sharp. Alhaitham from Haravatat also has a cold look, but this unknown man looks colder, almost unforgiving. But you're not intimidated— maybe in normal occasion, you would be. But the beauty of his eyes is unmatched, nobody could compare. And so you indulge in staring, wanting to memorize every bit of his appearance. His lips looks soft with pinkish color, it fits him well especially with that kind of skin.

You wanted to approach him, to talk to him, to take a closer look, to watch him more— but you felt glued in your feet. He looked away as he began to walk again and that made you want to run after him— but what would be your excuse for talking to him? Ask for his name? You do want to know his name. You don't understand why you can't feel your legs, why won't it move as usual. Maybe you're way too shaken of his appearance, you don't realize.

Before you could even come to your senses, he's already nowhere to be found.

Looking at him felt like hours that you wish to never end, but when he looked away it felt like you didn't stare enough. Like it only lasted for seconds, which is true.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You wish to know his origins, you wanted to know him more, look at him more...

Surely, you'd see him again, right? He's not just a visitor of Akademiya, right? You hope that's not the case. You don't know his name, if he's also a scholar and what his darshan is, you know nothing aside from his gorgeous appearance.

Did you even look at his clothes? Because you do not remember if he's wearing a uniform of the Akademiya.

You looked around, searching every corner with your eyes, trying to find a sight of his beauty once more— but he's nowhere. You went to the library too, and to the other places inside the Akademiya, but not a single strand of his indigo hair could be found.

He's not just a pigment of your imagination, is he?

For days, you used your time asking people about him. Your description of him is always over explained that you even use figure of speech, which earned a confused or disbelief expression from others.

You would sit at the same spot where you saw him, thinking that maybe he would be there again.

Until successfully, a vahumana scholar recognized who you meant.

"Ah, that aloof pretty boy?"

"I don't know about his personality, but yes he's a pretty boy indeed." You answered, your mind hovering over the scholar's words. Aloof? He's an introvert, then? Oh, that makes him more attractive in your eyes. Reserved men are always attractive.

"Mhm, yes. I believe we're talking about the same person. Pale skin and indigo hair, yeah that's him."

You repeatedly nodded at her words, your excitement growing upon thinking that you would meet him again.

"But he's unapproachable... I rarely see him talk to anybody."

So he's not just in a bad mood that day? His eyes really looks like that, cold and distant? You would pay millions to see warmth in him, you wonder how would he look like.

"If you're looking for more information about that guy, the vahumana scholars are the best to ask." She added.

Your interest is even more piqued. "His darshan is vahumana?"

"I'm not sure... But yes, he's often around the corners for vahumana."

That's good news! He's not just a visitor, that means you could see him again.

You said your goodbye to the nice lady, a big smile forming in your lips as you daydream about meeting him again. In which, you wish, you could talk to him this time.

You also wonder how his voice sounds like. Would it be dreamy? You wanted to hear.

The smile in your face was replaced with a frown as you asked another scholar.

"I'm telling you, you wouldn't want to speak with him. Bad attitude, that's what he have." The scholar said with pure distaste in his tone, genuinely annoyed about the man he's speaking about.

Ah... yet another pretty face with ugly personality? Another waste?

Usually, you would get disappointed and you would be no longer interested. Yet for some reason, you became even more curious of him.

Maybe because his beauty is one of a kind that you don't care if he's someone insufferable.

But maybe, there's something way much more beautiful underneath? Maybe, just maybe, he just doesn't want anyone to get pass through the thick wall he built around himself— and behind that wall is a treasure hidden.

He's such a mystery you wish to uncover.

"Bad attitude in what way, exactly?" You asked, your eyes sparking in excitement as if you're too impatient and you wanted to know everything already.

"He has a foul mouth," The scholar clicked his tongue in annoyance. "and an arrogant aura, I dare say."

You nodded your head. Foul mouth? Arrogant? He's not just a simple cold hearted man?

"And what's even more irritating is that he's late to start in an essay yet finished it on time, rich in words. And then he got recognized for it?! His work was the best, they say?!"

You watch as he grumbled, almost muttering to himself with knitted eyebrow and a sour expression.

Oh, so the mysterious man is also smart..? A smile formed in your lips again. He's really attractive, isn't he?

You observe the scholar's expression. Maybe he said that the pretty boy was arrogant because he's just jealous? So perhaps, he isn't.

"I can't stand him! And his huge ass hat!"

You had a questioning look in your face now. "Huge ass hat?"

"What? You don't see him wear it? I always see him with it, a waste of space!"

"No, are we talking about the same person?" You only saw him once, and without any hat.

He sighed in annoyance. "He's all what I could think of with your description."

"Do you perhaps know what his name is?"

"I don't know, I don't bother to know. He usually doesn't bother to talk to anyone, anyway. But when he opens his mouth, he's spouting insults like he's someone superior!" He rants again.

You nodded once more. When you asked questions regarding his whereabouts, none could provide an answer. Not even anyone could tell where he's mostly seen. He's like a wind, he's everywhere but at the same time he's nowhere. You'll see him once in awhile, but not everytime.

You sighed as you bid farewell to the angered scholar. Seriously, what's with the mysterious wind around him?

Another day without seeing him. But at least, you gained a lead regarding his attitude. Distant and snarky. Not bad, you guess. Maybe his tongue isn't as sharp as they say, maybe they're just easily offended. You hope he's not as bad as they make it out to be. After all, you can't handle people that are coarse.

The next day came, and you felt lucky. You irises were keen on someone, and it's someone you've been craving the presence of. He's sitting in the gazebo outside of the Akademiya, his face relaxed as he placed the 'huge ass hat' on his head, preparing to walk away.

So that's the hat, it is indeed big.

Wait, he's about to go!

You quickly ran to his direction, a little panicked that you almost tripped. You don't want him to get away, or you'd lose your mind this time.

"W-wait! Sir, uhm, pretty boy!"

Relief flood in your veins when you managed to get his attention. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, watching you sprint towards him.

You pant when you finally get close to him, your hands resting on your knees.

"What do you want? Make it quick."

Your head perked up, your eyes sparkled yet again. He... he has a nice voice! If only it wasn't for his tone, sounding so impatient and irritated, as if you ruined his day.

"Spit it out."

You heard him say again. If he wanted to let you get the hint that you're wasting his time even though you only had held him back for a minute now, he's absolutely making it obvious.

And then, nervousness came crashing in your body. You don't know what to say to him, nor what you want is of any importance. You almost couldn't speak, like there's a lump in your throat that had formed. Now that you're close to him, you realize how intimidating he is...

His eyes are piercing through your soul, it looks like he's judging your entire family tree. It looks sharper than a knife, and he's not even glaring, merely looking.

"I-I, uhm..."

You gulped. His presence is unbearable, he seems so almighty, it feels like standing before him is a sin. You don't have problems speaking to strangers, yet for some reason it became scary now. You can't feel a single ounce of your confidence, it's like it never existed in the first place.

He rolled his eyes, his patience is wearing thin.

You noticed his feet moved and he's about to turn around, to walk away. Afraid that you might not see him again, you grasp on his sleeve— the long cloth dangling after his arms

You heard him click his tongue in irritation and you immediately let go. He dusted off his sleeve as if you left a dirt in it.

"C-can I, uh, you..." You bit your lower lip, trying to gather the confidence you lost. "Can you be my participant for my resea—"

"I'm not interested." He didn't even let you finish your sentence, cutting you off.

"Please. I'm from rtwahist and currently conducti—"

"Isn't it basic etiquette for researchers to accept the rejection if someone do not want to be a part of your useless research?"

You gulped. Useless research? Well, you're not offended because the truth is, you're not conducting any research at the moment. You merely said those to sound like you approached him for an important matter.

"I think your constellation is... good."

His eyebrows met. "What?"

You're basically lying right now. You hadn't look at his constellation nor you have any means since you know nothing about him, but still.

You wanted to laugh at yourself, you realize how desperate you are. What's with him, exactly? He only have a picture perfect face, anyway. That's just what you're after, beautiful sight to behold. You could just look at him from afar. You could look at him like he's an object, unable to talk to.

Yet, you're drawn to him. Maybe you're just infatuated?

Unlike other beautiful faces you see, his appearance is top tier. His slender fingers and slim body looked so pretty, too. He looks... perfect. And for once you wanted to uncover a flaw out of a beautiful sight.

You hated imperfections so you try your best to avoid seeing one. Yet, for some reason, you wanted to know if he has any. And if he has, you wanted to see it for yourself.

Perhaps if you do, you'll lose this huge interest in him and go back to boredom.

Because maybe, you're just confused. Maybe, you can't believe you see someone look so perfect that you can't grasp the fact that he is flawless, which is why you wanted to see if he has any for your peace of mind.

But isn't his attitude already a flaw? He's not as kind as Kaveh, not as approachable as Nilou.

Yet... yet you can't help but think it's part of his beauty.

He brought you out of your reverie when he clicked his tongue out of annoyance once more.

"Oh, what did you say again?"

"Are you deaf? I asked what you meant."

Wait, what did you say again? Oh, right, his constellation.

"Your constellation, I see that you'd have a good fate."

"Did you look over it without my consent?" He asked, his tone harsh.

"Oh, no! No, of course. It just happens sometimes, you know? We call it... the astrologist instinct!"

He frowned upon your words, so you opt to continue.

"When I saw you, I had this instinct like..." You made a melodramatic actions with your hands, as if it further explain what you meant. "Woah, this boy right here is favored by the stars!"

He looks unamused, his eyes staring at your own as if to say he'd appreciate it if you shut your mouth and not bother him again.

"So, uhm.. My research is about that..."

He rolled his eyes in complete annoyance. He genuinely looks uninterested and you bit your lower lip in disappointment when he turned around and began walking away. He didn't even say goodbye.

If you ran after him, you would look like a desperate being seeking for his attention. Since you have dignity and it is precious to you, you just let him go.

You groaned in annoyance. How can you approach him again? When and where would you see him again? You didn't even get to ask for his name.

Well, he's rude just like they said.

But for some reason you don't understand, it looks so attractive on him, being like that and all. His intimidating stare is something you can't forget. The feeling of coldness that rose through you, the chill that you felt when his eyes locked with yours— you feel shaken up.

Those eyes, really... You have to beware, or you'd get lost in them.

You watched his back as he walked away, his figure slowly disappearing from your sight.

You swear to yourself that the next time you'd see him, you'll make him agree to become your research participant.

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glitteringcrab · 4 months

Text

I've seen this technology before (part 2)

think of the implications think of the implications THINK OF THE FREAKING IMPLICATIONS (trigger warning for sexual abuse)

Sigh... Here we go.

First of all, let's get the easy parts out of the way.

Despite people who are being puppeteered sometimes appear to be in a fugue state (that thousand yard stare lol)--

--or, you know, puppeteered. VIOLENTLY sometimes--

--it's clear that they are also both alive and aware:

Would you say this is pretty much the definition of a mind rape?

I mean, we've seen Unity do pretty much the same thing, but the subjects never seem to be aware that they got possessed, are not traumatized nor upset (and hilariously the quality of their lives was greatly improved when Unity had taken over). I don't know if they forget because Unity is actually kind of nice and makes them forget on purpose to avoid trauma, or if it's just how assimilation by hiveminds works. In any case, it is apparent that this is simply how hiveminds live. Ugly, of course, but in the sense of "a predator has to eat" fashion. Not exactly a choice on the hivemind's part. So... technically also a mind rape, but... also not as evil as what Evil Morty has been doing.

Secondly.

Do we all agree that it seems that the receiver is above Evil Rick's eye? We can see its light going on and off, which would likely not be visible if the receiver was at the height of the bottom eyelid (I'm referring to where Evil Morty's cables are sticking out).

Indeed, the Citadel Rick does not have to stick his whole hand inside Evil Rick's face, just the fingers.

In fact, would you say the receiver is... right... about... here:

(and yes, I combined the two frames to achieve the ultimate creepy frame)

So... in the hypothetical scenario that "the reason Evil Morty has cables sticking out of his eye is that he was once puppeteered himself and some remains of the implant are still in his head"...

...would you say that the place where his own receiver must have been would be... somewhere around here:

Which, accounting for the curvature of the giant cartoon eyes (lol) might be the correct distance from the bottom eyelid if one combines the length of the cables Evil Morty already has sticking out of his eyes and the the length of the cables in the eyepatch.

At the same time, it'd be kinda weird for someone to remove the receiver but not the rest of the implant cables and stuff. I mean, if Rick C-137 was trying to remove such an implant from Morty Prime, wouldn't he be thorough about it? Wouldn't he make sure Morty Prime was completely clean?

Unless, of course, you're hastily trying to gouge your own eye out in desperation:

Oops. You too, eh?

Also, it is interesting to note that it appears Evil Rick was trying to stick the shard in his eye (the left eye, btw, where his receiver was) which is... not how one would typically try to commit suicide when you also have a throat available.

So either the mind control kept Evil Rick's hand far away from his throat on purpose, or there are built-in contingencies that ensure unauthorized removal of the receiver is akin to a death sentence...

...which (in the hypothetical case that Evil Morty was at some point in the past also frantically gouging his own eye out) may be negated if you somehow also managed to gain access to some kind of healing equipment (of which we know Ricks have plenty) and set it to turn on automatically (because you're a very smart, careful boy). I'm not gonna add the screenshots because they're too many, but I'm going to list a few:

the one Rick used to jumpstart Pissmaster's brain

the thing Rick injected Morty with after Morty bully-gunned himself

the one Rick used to restore Morty's arm

Rick's freaking garage

(It's possible by the way that the original receiver Evil Morty had did not have a "contain suicide attempt" function. It's possible that the threat of death was deterrent enough that Evil Morty wouldn't try to remove the receiver on his own. It's possible Evil Morty added the "contain suicide attempt" function to Evil Rick's receiver because he knew from experience that this is a price he might be willing to pay. Which would, you know... also explain why he didn't bother downloading the schematics of Rick Prime's auto-healing ability for himself)

IN ANY CASE, you mutilated yourself successfully, pulled the receiver out of your eye's remains, died, your brain healed (physically), the eye reformed, but happened to reform while the cables were sticking out from when you were pulling the receiver. Uh-oh. It's okay, tuck them back in, no one has to know. Better not inform the Citadel nor update your Morty Agency record on your newest implant, either. You wouldn't want other Ricks to know they only need to attach a receiver in your head to exert complete control over you, huh? (like grabbing a... joystick?) Maybe kill your Rick, if you haven't done it already. Run away.

Sigh. Let's go to the hard parts now.

Fans smarter than me have already pointed out that the Rick-Morty dynamic is deliberately built around the idea of grooming, predation of minors and sexual abuse. A lot of the things in the show are either outright instances of grooming, are meant to refer to sexual abuse or are meant to be allegories to sexual abuse, even though canonically Rick is not grooming Morty for sexual reasons. (I strongly suggest you check out all the above links, by the way. I was disturbed.)

Take also into account that Citadel with its Morty Market also has disturbing similarities to a messed up, horrible foster care system, as well as child trafficking.

Although I can't find all the links (message me if you have them), I had also found posts from fans comparing Evil Morty's actions to sexual abuse, against Ricks and Mortys this time.

The "literal" mind rape he has committed is the most blatant example, in my opinion, but far from the only one. The violence of Evil Rick's puppeteering when he was forced to kill Guard Rick was disturbing. Another fan alluded that Evil Morty making Evil Rick drunk before assaulting him was akin to drugging someone before taking sexual advantage of them. Extra disturbing by Evil Rick's exclamation "Get off me!"

Personally, Evil Morty closing the garage door before attacking reminded me of... other scenes in movies etc, where the assaulter turns up the volume on the radio before commencing his attack. I mean... we've seen all sorts of insane stuff happening in that garage (people exploding, redheads flying in, a flying saucer parking) and none of the neighbors even care. Gene actually had the courage to STEAL a rake from this house of madness. It is all treated as comically absurd. Only when Evil Morty attacks are the happenings treated as an actual violent crime that the perpetrator would want to stay hidden.

And sure, Evil Morty needed a large crowd of alive Mortys to hide amongst, and he needed an excuse to keep them alive so he strapped them on the Morty Dome and tortured them, but did they really have to be naked?

Now, I'm in no way an expert of any sort in any of the above, but I've read that when children (and Morty is 14) do physically violent or sexually aggressive acts against others, it's typically because they've been assaulted themselves in a similar fashion. I guess they're either trying to process what happened, are mimicking it, are venting their frustration on someone weaker, or are simply desensitized to it. SOMEONE PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I'M HORRIBLY WRONG.

I'm sure that canonically, no actual rape has taken place, but given the show's general... vibe... I doubt the above mentioned similarities are a coincidence. I'd say that a 14-year-old boy literally losing all body autonomy by becoming an old man's literal puppet for an unspecified amount of time is as close to the concept as possible without actually being the concept.

Of course, this is just a theory. We don't know if anything like this has happened. However, the truth is that while we've seen plenty of miserable Mortys in the Citadel, none of them seem to be as angry, traumatized, nor desperate as Evil Morty. They all managed to smile, or find companionship among each other, or even among Ricks (Cop Rick, I'm looking at you). Evil Morty is the only one who did completely messed up things to an extreme scale without batting an eyelid, just so he could get as far away as possible. He didn't exactly seem to enjoy his journey to freedom, either.

His face here as he finishes the transmitter reads to me as a particularly sad and defeated "...I'm really doing this, then" thought.

And (like actual sexual abuse victims) it's not likely he could have safely unburdened himself by sharing the secret of what happened to him with someone in the Citadel. Another Rick might have taken advantage of him in the same way, once he realized the opportunity was available.

Not to mention that by telling someone he would risk hearing some variation of "you asked for it by being cocky and not doing what you were told" or "being completely controlled by a Rick was the best thing that ever happened to you, you finally stopped doing dumb mistakes". The Rick who puppeteered him could have also framed it as "I'm doing this for your sake, because you keep getting yourself injured in adventures".

And he mustn't let himself react overly emotionally or go into hysterics about it, because then he'll get mind-blown and forget everything that happened (roofied, much?) and be vulnerable to it again. Or, even worse, he may be discarded as "defective" and end up in that Morty slaughterhouse... So he must really tone down his emoting.

He could have theoretically confessed to another Morty, but we've already seen Mortys throwing each other under the bus in their bid to survive. I wouldn't like my chances, personally.

So it seems to me that he be stuck in the Citadel, simming in his own fear, grief and anger with no one to confide to (although gaining a level-up in confidence (cockyness, if you want) given that he successfully orchestrated his own escape attempt). Either living in the lousy conditions of Morty Town, surrounded by clueless Mortys who, if ever discovered that he could get mind-controlled might tip off a Rick in exchange of a better quality of life. Or partnering with a Rick, living every day in fear that his secret might get revealed accidentally and that he'd end up dissected and studied, or simply controlled once again. (It would be even more dangerous if his Rick was wanted by the Citadel, and Evil Morty was in danger of getting executed for assisting him.) And, of course, we know that Citadel Ricks do not form lasting bonds with their Mortys. Even if his secret was never discovered, Evil Morty would find neither peace, nor family in the company of the Rick of the Day who adopted him.

I also think there is a lot of internalized victim blaming among the Mortys in the citadel. At some point he might have been convinced that he really did ask for it by not behaving. And this puts the eyepatch in a... different perspective. It made sense that he used the eyepatch initially, that's pretty much the only place where he could put his transmitter. But after he gained access to aaaaall the Citadel's tech as president, he built a lot of cool things. Couldn't he have built a better interface, one that doesn't require an eyepatch?

I mean... he definitely improved the eyepatch itself. In the beginning he had to connect it with his implanted cables manually:

But after he became president, it appears that it connects automatically. No longer necessary to stick your fingers in your own eye socket (yayyy).

It's unclear if the cables themselves are still there (they might be!) but some part of the original implant definitely remains. However, why still use an eyepatch at all? However he may have started off originally, we can't really say that he incapable of performing surgery to himself by the time season 7 rolls in because we saw him have a plethora of body augmentations, and yet he still wears an eyepatch. Couldn't he have also altered the implant in his brain so that he keeps any potential perks but no longer needs an external eyepatch?

Sure, maybe he enjoys triggering Rick's fear of pirates (even though he wears it when he is alone outside the CFC). Or maybe he thinks he looks cool wearing it. Or maybe he's just an angsty teenager.

Or... Well... if the whole experience is a source of shame and self-blame for him, he may be metaphorically hiding the place of intrusion... or, conversely, a physical reminder that he managed to literally cut himself free might make him feel better. I tend to think it's the latter.

This is all just a theory. Maybe he simply is evil.

Or maybe he's heartbroken by being constantly discarded in the "adoption" program of the Morty Market to the point where he felt he would explode. Ricks scouring the universe for Mortys meant that blowing the CFC was the only way he could be left alone in peace.

...But I'm leaning towards him having one more reason to run away as far as he can without looking back.

(and as of now, I get the feeling that he hasn't run away far enough)

#evil morty #rick and morty #evil morty meta #I've seen this technology before

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milkyst4rs · 1 year

Text

Their love language

Zhongli, Diluc, Xiao, Thoma x GN Reader

Fluffy floof ☁️🫶🏽

Zhongli 🤍 Acts of service

I can picture Zhongli waking up before you to make breakfast and tea before you both head to work 😢 he has the smallest grin on his pretty face while cooking.

Makes sure the house is clean so you don't have to worry about anything else and have your full attention on him.

He will come and pick you up from work after his own is done so you two can walk back home together 🫶🏽

He just wants to make sure you are carefree and happy with him 😞

Diluc 🤍 Quality Time

Diluc is a very busy man but he makes sure he always has time for you. Even if he just spends 10 minutes with you, it's enough for him to recharge and continue with his work.

On his off days, he will plan out the whole day for you. No disturbances, just you two. He will prepare a nice picnic at Windrise with all your favourite dishes.

For days where he does have to work, he will cherish the mornings with you. Hugging you and leaving soft kisses all over your body, to ensure you of his love.

Days with him are never boring that's for sure.

Xiao 🤍 Acts of service

Xiao is a little shy 🫶🏽 so, to make up for his lack of affectionate words, he makes sure that you are safe wherever you go.

It breaks his heart to see you in pain, wether it be physically or mentally. You can see that he is trying his very best for you, to make sure you are comfortable and well with him.

Studies about mortal traditions that couples do and tries them out with you 🫶🏽 slowly but surely he will be confident with his words. For now, he'll stick to being your knight in shining armor!

Thoma 🤍 Words of affirmation

Oh my sweet, sweet boy😭

Is so proud of you when you accomplish something. Always saying "I am so proud of you [name]!"

Makes sure you know that he truly loves you and that he's so happy to be your boyfriend 🥺

On nights where you two are cuddling in bed, he will just spew out declarations of love to you. He's so in love with you he just can't keep it to himself!

Will always compliment you, you could be in your ugly ass pyjamas with drool all over your face, he will say that you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

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

an; should i make a part 2 with more characters? Lmk!!

#genshin fluff #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc x reader #diluc fluff #zhongli fluff #zhongli x reader #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma fluff

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 2 years

Note

Can you please do hcs for the gang with a clumsy S/O?

A/N: Hey there! Thanks for requesting <3 you're super clumsy (love you anyways 💚) so I had a lot of fun writing this! Hope you enjoy it!

DARRY CURTIS

It’s both a blessing and a curse to be clumsy and dating Darry, there’s pros and cons here guys

Pro, he’s super big and super strong and will never have any problems picking you up if you’ve fallen or carrying you around

I totally see him telling you you’re safer in his arms than on your own feet and then carrying you around when he’s in a playful mood

Con, this man stresses out so much and he worries so much about you and your clumsy habits

Especially if you get hurt, he’s all huffy as he patches you up but he will kiss wherever you’ve hurt yourself and murmur reassurances the whole time

Will tease you for being clumsy? But it’s loving teasing, he’s just messing around with you and having fun <3

SODAPOP CURTIS

He’s clumsy-ish too? But his clumsy only adds an extra endearing quality to him-

Soda’s compared to a colt in the book, very excitable and I can definitely see him like jumping around so fast he knocks stuff over and little things like that

Sodapop, ever the gentlemen, is going to offer to carry everything for you so you have less of a chance to drop it

Like his brother, I firmly believe that he’d just scoop you up instead of letting you walk

The image of him carrying you, a bridal carry ‘cause we’re romantic, down the street because you tripped over yourself playing football in the lot and rolled your ankle-

He’d sit you on the edge of the tub and crouch down in front of you, wrapping your ankle deftly, cracking jokes and grinning up at you with that movie-star smile of his

PONYBOY CURTIS

I feel like Ponyboy’s very clumsy? But it’s like an ugly-duckling kind of clumsy

Like he’s only clumsy because he hasn’t really grown into himself yet and once he starts hitting some of his later teen years, he’s pretty suave-ish

So he’s used to the clumsiness and kind of tunes into your clumsiness?

That doesn’t make sense so I’ll explain- Pony’s so used to your clumsiness that he knows when you’re going to run into things even if he’s not looking at you

Like he can be laying on the couch, fully engrossed in a book and you walk in and he’ll immediately say something like “wall” and you learn to stop, step away from the the thing Ponyboy says and continue on

That’s his way of looking out for you, y’know? He tries his hardest to prevent any injuries your clumsiness may cause

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas with a clumsy S/O is actually the funniest and sweetest thing I’ve ever thought of

You’ve got Dally, calm, cool, and collected, leaning against the edge of buildings with a cigarette between his lips as he stares people into submission

And then there’s you, stumbling over the curb and falling almost onto your face when you tried to join him

You kind of ruin his ice-cold, bad boy image because he’s always having to reach out to catch you from falling and stooping to pick up what you’ve dropped but he can’t really bring himself to care

You’re a clumsy doll, but you’re his doll, and he thinks you’re awfully cute

He’s gonna roll his eyes and blow smoke in your face when you do something stupid like trip over your own feet and run into things but he does it all with the fondest smile

JOHNNY CADE

I think you’re gonna worry Johnny a lot, the poor boy is constantly keeping an eye on you and trying to lead you away from danger

But it's almost an exasperated kind of worry? Johnnycake just doesn’t understand how someone could be this clumsy

You drop things, run into stationary furniture, choke on air and trip over your own feet for crying out loud-

Johnny’s doing his best to keep you alive, okay?

This boy presses soft kisses to all of your random little bruises and you can’t tell me that he doesn’t

He winces every time he hears you fall and will call out to see if you’re alright, waiting patiently for you to reply before he goes to check on you

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit is a clumsy mess. He just is. No room for debate here friends :)

He’s tall and lanky and sometimes a little drunk and he’s clumsy

The two of you are constantly holding onto each other so you don’t fall over but half the time you end up stumbling into each other's arms

But you guys are cute clumsy, you try to help each other out and it’s just really cute okay?

Both of you are constantly running into doors and dropping things

The gang just rolls their eyes whenever you guys trip over things or trip over each other-

STEVE RANDLE

Super worried part two! He’s concerned when it comes to your clumsiness and is worried about your safety <3

Will do his best to patch up any of your injuries but can’t help it if he’s a little rough, he makes up for it in kisses

I don’t think Steve would tease you for being clumsy?

Like- the occasional little remark about he can’t believe you did what you did, but he’s not gonna tease you like Dal or Curly or Tim

He thinks you’re cute baby! Really cute! Loves the way you smile sheepishly when you catch something you drop before it hits the ground

Steve just loves you okay? No matter what, no matter how clumsy, he just really loves you

TIM SHEPARD

To preface, Tim is the kind of guy who would watch you fall, not even flinch, and then calmly ask if you’re okay

If you are, he’ll silently offer you a hand to pick you back up with a wide smirk on his face

If you’re not? He’ll crouch down to your level and look over you, determining how bad it is before helping you back up

He’s surprisingly gentle if he has to patch up your cuts and scrapes and anything else you do to yourself? Very gentle hands

Tim’s gonna make so many jokes about your clumsiness but that’s a him only thing

Maybe he’ll let Curly and Angela get away with a joke or two, but if anyone says anything else, they’re getting a cold look from the head Shepard

CURLY SHEPARD

The teasing is ruthless I tell you, absolutely ruthless and you need to learn to expect nothing else from Curly

All of the teasing terms and his jokes, he thinks he’s funny guys

If you’re the kind of clumsy person who has a tendency to walk into furniture and door frames (that’s me guys), Curly is going to laugh at you

But in reality, Curly thinks you’re super cute, he can’t keep back the soft smile when he sees you catch yourself from falling and you just look so proud of yourself

Wants to hold your hand when you’re walking and always makes sure to put you on the inside of the sidewalk when you’re around town, keeping you away from the edge so there’s a lesser chance of you falling into traffic

He makes sure that there’s always a handful of extra bandaids and stuff at the Shepard household so in case you end up cutting yourself or something while you’re over, he can help you out

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mel-vaz · 6 months

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the Black Brothers sister

Hi everybody this is my first time writing so please be kind. This a x reader fanfiction the reader is mentioned to be chubby this is SAD injoy

Invisible, that's what you were. Your whole life you were nothing, but Regulus and Sirius' little sister. Abused and forgotten, it wasn't always like this when you and your brothers were little, it was like you were all one big person. You guys did everything together from sleeping to playing, but that changed the day Sirius met James Potter. Stupid, ugly, fool that's what James Potter was to you it was all his fault Sirius abandoned you and Regy. It only got worse from there, every summer Sirius came home he just argued with Orion and Walburga and ignored you and Regulus. Then 2 years later Regulus went off to school and just like that he too ignored you. In just 3 years you lost both of your brothers. How could it get any worse, It got worse. Nobody cared about you, nobody saw you, nobody heard you, you were all alone. Until one day, why did it have to be so cold out you thought not looking was where were going you slammed into somebody “Fuck that hurt, watch where you're going” You know that voice, that the voice of the boy who took your brother away from you. James Potter of all the people at this school you just had to knock over him, just ignored him Y/n “Hey I know you, your Pads chubby sister. You sure didn’t get Sirius or Regulus good looks” chuckled Potter “ FUCK OFF YOU LIFE RUINER” I shout at him. “Stupid Ugly Potter”. “Who the Fuck said you could talk to me like that.” “Y/n '' that was Sirius's voice “Sirius' ' you whisper when you turn around both Sirius and Regulus' friends are there watching you. Sirius was fuming and Regulus just looked bored. “How could you talk to him that way” Looking back over at Sirius with sadness in your eyes, not as if your brother cared, getting up from the ground you started to leave “You not going anywhere until you apologize to James.” Sirius said a scolding tone “why do you care” you whispered “ because he my friend and I can’t have my chubby, ugly sister losing her only redeeming quality of being a good girl like your told ” you whip your head around and yell “YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER AND NEITHER ARE YOU” said pointing at Regulus now leave me alone

#regulus black x reader #sirius black x reader #sister reader

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

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Headcanons for the HotD!Main Three

Part 1? (Let me know if you would like more);;

Pairing(s): Aemond x Reader, Jacaerys x Reader, Aegon x Reader

Warnings: None, for once in my life;

Author's Note: just a couple of fluffy headcanons for your pleasure, to make up for the last part of the Yule Ball series;; they date back to your first meeting with the boys, and go as far as to touch close to the full-swing celebrations of the ball, during your 5th year at Hogwarts :)

Of First Meetings And First Crushes

☆ Aemond Targaryen ☆

There is a single, undisputable fact when it comes to your life at Hogwarts - you and Aemond go way back;

He bumped into you on your first ever ride on the Hogwarts Express. While you were discoursing with your new possible housemates, he was frantically searching for his old cat, Vhagar;

"I lost my pet. She is a Siamese cat with only one ear - answers to the name of Vhagar." He said stiffly to the cheery group of people, and one 3d year Ravenclaw snickered in reply: "Shit, little guy, I'd run away too if my name was Vhagar."

His group of friends immediately started laughing and it's safe to say you didn't like that;

After a short screaming match with the rude Ravenclaws (which you effortlessly won), you decided to help Aemond find his missing cat;

"You shouldn't have done that." He chastised you with a serious tone. "They could be your new housemates."

"There is only one thing I won't tolerate in my presence, and that is a bully!" The fire in your eyes made him smile - truly smile. "Now, let's go find your cat."

Vhagar ended up being in the back compartments, with all the other caged pets; she was trying to reach for your own cat with a shaky paw, but was failing miserably

Aemond grabbed her hurriedly and you made a joke that your pets should be best friends - he turned really red after seeing your wide smile;

For the rest of the train ride, you both sat together in an empty compartment - and when Aemond got hungry, you gave him one of your P&J sandwiches that you made for the trip;

"I also added chocolate chips. The secret is to add many, many chocolate chips."

He felt really dejected when you were sorted into Gryffindor, and he in Slytherin. He thought that was the beginning of the end for your sudden friendship - but you proved him wrong when you defended him time and time again whenever anyone made a nasty comment about his hair, his height, his gloomy disposition or his "ugly" cat;

He fell in love with you very quickly: how could he not, when you were so radiant and so good to him?

Your friendship was going steady, until the end of your 1st year, when he stopped writing to you mid-summer;

You were crushed by his silence, and eventually stopped writing as well;

When you saw him on the Hogwarts Express again, you understood why he ghosted you - his left eye was covered by a black eyepatch, and a deep scar cut from his brow to his lower cheek.

A lot of drama ensued between you two: Aemond tried his hardest to push you away, but you were very determined and head-strong. Eventually, your friendship won in the face of any argument or harsh words Aemond could throw in your face;

During your 3d and 4th year, he was COMPLETELY DEVOTED to you;

He was your shadow - wherever you went, he was quick to follow.

Some students made nasty comments about it (always behind his back, of course, because Aemond had that scary presence);

When he told you about the stinging comments, you assured him that you loved hanging out with him and it would really hurt you if he stopped being near you;

Aemond.exe stopped working for 3 working days after hearing you say that - yeah, he does loves you that much, HE IS WHIPPED;

That being said, Aemond's love language is acts of service and quality time;

He "helps" you with homework (a fancy word for "he literally does it for you even if you don't ask him to") and is always there when you need someone to listen and lend you a crying shoulder;

You invited him over for Christmas during your 3d year, and he was so nervous, he wore his best clothes when meeting your parents;

He looked really chill on the outside, though, and spoke really mechanically for the 1st half of the night, like he was applying for a job or something;

Little do you know he was applying to be your boyfriend EYYY--

Everyone knows you're in love. EVERYONE. It's really annoying to look at the two of you sometimes smh;

"JUST CONFESS AND GET IT OVER WITH PLEASE WE'RE ALL BEGGING YOU"

"Celeste, he doesn't like me like that..."

"YES BITCH HE DOES"

He's the main Slytherin Chaser and the Quidditch team captain;

What a surprise, omg!11!!1!

He's not even into the sport, he just wanted to make a point that even with his missing eye, he can still do anything everyone else can - and better;

Okay, Aemond, we get it, you're really cool;

You're also the Gryffindor Seeker (oh-oh, athletic rivalry???) and he ALWAYS comes to your games (when he's not directly playing against you, of course);

He won't be cheering for you while swinging a butterbeer in the air - but he will curse the other seeker out under his breath and smirk when you catch the Golden Snitch;

Your first ever game was against the Ravenclaws, and when he came to support you wearing all silver and green, you gave him your Gryffindor scarf;

"So you can blend in with the enemy!" You beamed at him so innocently;

He gaslit you into believing he gave it back and you just lost it;

You didn't lose it;

He stole it from you and now hides it in his trunk;

He takes it out when no one is in his dorm and sniffs it from time to time LMAO;

He bought you a new scarf from Hogsmeade, though;

Never give it to him during a game.

NEVER!

He will steal it again.

And buy you ANOTHER scarf;

And repeat the terrible cycle;

It just smells like you, okay???? It's not his fault, now leave him alone;

When you win a game, and you're not otherwise engaged, he celebrates with you in Hogsmeade;

He takes you to "The Empty Barrel" (literally the fanciest restaurant the little town has to offer);

"Don't even think about covering the whole check, Aemond!"

"Hmm."

No, he won't take you to Three Broomsticks. The tables there are sticky and he wants to do this right, god damn it...!

You feel bad that he always pays for those little dinners, when it should be you who covers the table;

So you shyly ask him if he wants to go celebrate one of his victories with you one day;

He wants to whisk you away and keep you all to himself with how adorable you're being;

Aemond accepts (how would he ever say no to you), but has to take an hour long cold shower after your proposition to cool off;

Anyway, you decide to take him to The Hog's Head!

You eat there and HE STILL COVERS THE DAMN CHECK;

"Aem. We agreed on something. Come on!"

"Did we now?"

"You're terrible. I'm never going out with you again."

But you do. And he knows not to take your cute threat seriously;

He gives you a small chuckle that makes your whole face burn in embarrassment over the things it led you to think about;

Despite the initial set-back, you do manage to one-up him that night, though! You tell him to wait in the empty Great Hall for you, and you return with a homemade apple pie and those horrible peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that you gave him when you first met;

"We never ate dessert! There's no way we can end the night without dessert."

He almost kisses you then and there, but gets scared you'll reject him;

The Portrait of Merlin ships you two. That's all I had to say.

No, but seriously, the most invested on-looker is the portrait of Merlin - he learns both your schedules every year and always keeps one of you busy with talking in between classes, so that you may "accidentally bump" into each other (see part 1 of the Yule Ball for a snippet of that);

The whole ass West Wing placed bets on who you'll end up with between Aegon, Aemond and Jacaerys.

Bonus: when you walk with Aemond, no matter the time of day, you have the biggest "scary dog privileges". NO ONE is getting close to bother you;

☆ Jacaerys Velaryon (Strong) ☆

You and Jace are also in the same year! But despite the fact that you guys have been seeing each other day and night since your sorting, you weren't really friends until your second year, when you suddenly got partnered up in so many of your classes;

You were excited to work with him, since he was so sweet to everyone, but you were also a little scared of rejection;

He came from a good family, he had a good last name, a million friends and a thousand extra-curriculars he partook in;

You half-expected to do all those projects wholly by yourself - to your surprise, Jace was incredibly serious, and the best partner anyone could ever hope for!

He never takes himself and his vision on things too seriously, and is more than happy to admit when he's wrong or when you have a better idea than him;

He smuggled pumpkin pastries into the Library for your first study meeting, and it ended up becoming tradition for the two of you;

How you never got caught eating in a forbidden space is beyond everyone at this point;

Although you never really started hanging out outside of class after your first couple of projects, you now called each other "friends" and always sat next to each other in Potions and DADA;

Unbeknownst to you, Jacaerys got into a fight over you and actually broke a Slytherin's nose when he heard him talk smack about you and your supposed weight;

"I dare you to say that again."

50 points were taken from Gryffindor that day - it was a pretty big deal;

He ended up talking so much about you to his parents on Christmas break, that they invited you to celebrate the New Year with them - you accepted, although a bit confused by the spontaneity of it all;

His family is the sweetest EVER;

Laenor made you a beautiful maroon sweater with your name designed on the collar with golden letters;

Of course, Jace had a matching one and wore his almost every day when you guys came back to Hogwarts;

He loved the fact that you were twinning your fits - even if you did it accidentally;

During your stay with his family, you got really close to Baela, Rhaena and Luke! You felt really grateful - your second year was rough for you, with Aemond's ever changing mood, and you felt so happy to be surrounded by friends who cared about you;

Jace and Luke BEGGED their parents to buy them a phone to talk to you over the summer in a more conventional way;

And they literally called you every single day while they spent their summer away in Denmark, visiting relatives;

You can only imagine how much they had to pay for all those international phone calls...

Let's get one thing straight, Jace has always been adorable.

BUT HIM DURING YOUR THIRD YEAR AT HOGWARTS??

HELLO??

Puberty hits this boy LIKE A TRUCK;

He looks so soft with that short fluffy hair and THE CURLS;

He also grows taller than you with half a foot;

To your (and everyone else's) mind, he was literally perfect - unapproachable;

People started calling him the school's prince, AND UNDERSTANDABLY SO;

Third year is a busy time for both of you - the try-outs for the Quidditch team are in full swing, and Jace lands himself the position of chaser (Luke follows you shortly the following year as your new keeper);

He quickly becomes the star of the Gryffindor team;

Girls swoon over him and his "sexy dimples";

You make fun of him for that and he blushes profusely, saying that he "doesn't like anyone like that anyway";

He literally sucks at Charms and Transfiguration, and he uses that to his advantage to get closer to you, since you excel at those subjects;

HIS LOVE LANGUAGE IS PHYSICAL TOUCH AND ACTS OF SERVICE;

Jace is so, so respectful of you though, he drinks that women respekt juice every single day; he wouldn't dare touch you if you weren't comfortable with that;

If you are just as touchy feely as he is, he LOVES having a protective hand thrown over you;

He has his own insecurities regarding his paternity rumours - The Targaryens are the embodiment of those very old pure-blooded families who still believe that muggleborns and half-bloods shouldn't "mix and match";

This is why Rhaenyra is even married with Laenor (who is obviously gay, and in the same predicament as she is, due to his family - bless him) and not Harwin Strong, Jace's actual father;

He feels trapped in his own family heritage, and feels so guilty when he catches himself thinking about escaping it sometimes;

Due to all that, Jace has a tendency to over-work himself and try to be in too many places at once;

You manage to level him and bring him back to earth - when he's with you, he forgets about his worries and he's so, SO GRATEFUL;

He falls in love with you during your 3d year at Hogwarts, but doesn't realise it until the very end of your 4th year (denial is a river in Egypt...);

Speaking of your 4th year, you have a small fall-out with Jace during that time, due to the fact that he gets his first girlfriend;

She's an exchange student from Ilvermorny, and she doesn't approve of your friendship one bit (oops);

Jacaerys tries to be the perfect gentleman with both of you, and fulfil both his "friend" duties, and his "boyfriend" ones;

Unfortunately, the perfect balance he figures out is ruined the moment you come to him with an emergency, and he completely forgets about the dinner date he had with his girl;

She breaks up with him the next day, telling him that he shouldn't use people to get over others;

And he's so confused, bless his heart;

"W... That's not... That's not what that was about!";

He feels really guilty for making his ex feel that way, and eventually figures out a way to make it up to her enough to stay friends;

Jacaerys is honestly the perfect ex LMAO;

Don't hate the player, hate the game;

His face completely falls when they brew Amorentia in Potions class and the whole place starts smelling like you;

But he STILL denies it for a while;

Psh, please, so many girls in this school could wear your exact perfume.

Right?

... right?

Jace is a very, very determined person. And once he sets his sight on someone, it's on;

You can bet the moment he hugs you goodbye at the train station, he's gonna think all summer about you and your beautiful soft hair;

Bonus: Jace's Boggart is a random manifestation of his loved ones dying - the worst one for him to face is yours;

☆ Aegon Targaryen ☆

Aegon doesn't care much about you at first;

He knows you're his younger brother's and nephew's "little girlfriend", and honestly doesn't see what's so great about you;

That is until you have a heart to heart with him when he's drunk out of his mind in Hogsmeade one day, during his 6th year (and your 4th one);

He was passed out into the snow, and you - beautiful, angelic you - came to his swift rescue;

He feels your warm hands touch his cheeks and forehead, and your own trench-coat cover him;

You lead him to the castle, and give him your coughing syrup that your parents packed for a quick pick-me-up;

"What's this?"

"It's cough syrup. For when your throat is sore."

"My throat isn't sore."

"Yet."

He becomes completely obsessed with you after that - and shows it to you in the harmless ways that he knows how;

Endless teasing, big and small pranks, small anonymous gifts;

His love language is gift giving and physical touch, so expect a lot of both, even if you aren't comfortable with that;

He is so thirsty for attention - even more so for your approval;

But he'll never admit it;

Still, if he happens to overhear that you like boys with short hair, he'll cut his hair short;

If he hears you like that soft boy aesthetic, that's exactly what he'll aspire to look like;

Unlike his younger brother and your other suitor, Aegon doesn't play Quidditch;

He'd much rather watch from the sidelines, thank you very much, and cause trouble while enjoying a cold butterbeer;

And unlike his baby brother, Aegon goes crazy with cheering for your victories (and even your losses when he's very drunk);

"HELL YEAH, (Y/N), THAT'S MY GIRL, WOOOO!"

"You do realise we lost... right?"

"... Oh."

"And I'm not your girl."

"... YET!"

The latter doesn't happen as often as you'd think;

It's cheesy, but you really do change him for the better. Slowly yet surely;

His support and affection for you goes as far as denying support for his own house.

"BOOO, FOUL PLAY!! THAT SEEKER SHOULD GET A RED CARD, HE PUSHED (Y/N) INTO THE OLD ARENA!"

"Aegon, that's the Hufflepuff Seeker..."

"..."

"BOOO!! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THESE THINGS?"

It's kind of obvious to everyone that he's also in love with you;

Except for you, since that's a theme;

You take his flirting as just that - Aegon flirting.

He gives you flowers on your birthday and a very expensive necklace with his initial on the back? - Nah, that's just how Aegon is.

He asks you out? - Nah, that's just how Aegon is.

He only dates girls who have a resemblance to you? - Nah, that's just how Aegon is.

Everyone gives you judgy looks when you say those things;

Aemond and Jacaerys are the only ones who are sort of glad you don't realise the depth of his feelings tbh;

You can bet Aegon and Aemond fight a lot because of you LMAO;

Oh, I'm sorry, you thought their relationship was bad before you entered the picture? Have a look at it now that Aegon's also courting you;

"You are so spoiled."

"I'm sorry? It was just a necklace. I don't understand why you're so pissed off about it."

"You know I love her."

"Are you dating her?"

"Hmm."

snickering "I'll take that as a no, then"

"Why is it that you feel the need to go after everything I want?"

"Easy there, brother, she's not your property or something."

"She's mine."

"You've known her for five years and you've done nothing to court her."

"Not everyone sleeps around on the first fucking date."

"Some people go after what they want. I warmly suggest you start doing the same."

"You aren't worthy enough of her. You never will be."

"... We'll see."

Bonus: Aegon has a moving picture of you and him in his wallet and sometimes talks to it when his life at home gets too hard;

Now this could be cute and sad at the same time, if not for that fact that Alicent caught him reciting a love poem to it once and Aegon panicked so hard, he pretended he was schizophrenic so she'd leave him alone;

She didn't, in fact, leave him alone;

He had to go to three different psychiatrists over the summer, to confirm that he was okay;

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #aegon x reader #house of the dragon hogwarts au #jacaerys x reader

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wordynerdygurl · 1 year

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Two Sizes Too Small

Author’s Note: Well, lovelies, I pulled an all-nighter to finish this one. I just really wanted to give Eddie Munson a wonderful Christmas. That it involves love and my favorite holiday movie, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, well, how could I resist? Full disclosure- there’s a lot of holiday movie and music references! Also, my taglist is open, so let me know if you’d like to be added! Lastly, I hope everyone has a lovely and restful holiday season!! Pairing: Plus Size Female Reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie hates Christmas, the whole Christmas season, and maybe his heart is too small but it’s Christmas and miracles can happen at the holidays!

Warnings: SMUT, a touch of dubcon in the beginning, and also some angsty pining!

If it weren’t for Wayne, Eddie would have given up on Christmas a long time ago.

Around the time when he realized that Santa was his uncle scraping up extra change to ensure that there was something for him to open under the tree, Eddie’s heart had hardened against the holiday. Wayne already did so much: working double shifts, making sure that Eddie had food, clothes and a safe way to get to school each day. Why add to that burden with a day set aside for the sole purpose of spending money on stuff that no one really needed? Oh, he’d heard the arguments about showing people how much you cared this time of year. That the depth of someone’s feelings was greater than or equal to the quality of whatever sweater, baseball cap or new crock pot could be wrapped in pretty paper with a ribbon slapped on top. In his opinion that was a shitty system for communicating how much you appreciate someone, not to mention it only happened once a year.

There was no question in Eddie Munson’s mind that Wayne loved him. He didn’t need a stocking full of candy or a gift boxed t-shirt to show him what he already knew to be true. So, why make a big deal about it? It was just another day on the calendar.

Regrettably, his sentiments weren’t shared with, well, anyone else. All of the people around Eddie, his uncle especially, seemed to go Christmas Crazy. Shopping all the time, planning events and scheduling parties, worrying about what to buy everyone and where to get the best sale price. It didn’t make sense to him. The decorations, the lights, the ornaments, all of it was sentimental in a way that Eddie just couldn’t abide, “What’s the point? You’re just gonna pull all this shit down in a week.” Not dissuaded, Wayne snorts indignantly, digging through a dusty box marked X-MAS, “The point is, I like it. The point is, it reminds me of when you were an excited kid who liked the simple things in life. Things like bikes and blocks and crayons, not girls and drinking and rock music.” “Ok, ok, you made your point.” Eddie concedes, helping to tape a strand of red tinsel garland along the shelf of mugs which had all been gifts to uncle over the years. Wayne stoops low, child-like glee on his face, as he readies to plug in the light strand, “Ready for the tree?” It was like this every year and Eddie nods, ready to get this part over with, faking his way through Wayne’s Christmas crankiness. With a snap of electricity, the three foot artificial tree lights up. It’s filled with paper Santas scribbled in red marker, macaroni stars and once glitter covered foam gingerbread men. It is an annual homage to Eddie as a kid and Wayne adores it. Despite the grumbling from his nephew, Wayne refuses to give it up, at least, not without a serious fight. Unimpressed, Eddie drones, “Very nice. I like how you managed to keep all the ugly ornaments facing the window. The neighbors are gonna love ‘em.” Incredulous, Wayne scoffs at his semi-scowling nephew, “They should! I’m damned proud to have them.” A heavy wave of nostalgia falls over the old man, making his proud chin quiver with unspoken words of affection for the little boy turned man standing in front of him. Eddie hears the dip in his uncle’s voice, recognizing his yearly Christmas melancholy from a mile away. What was it about this time of year that made everyone go a little nuttier than usual? Was it the weather? The food? Or just the expectations that the holiday season seemed to carry? Screw that. Eddie wasn’t going to give into the commercialized crap that seems to sweep everyone else along in December. Christmas was for suckers and Eddie Munson was nobody’s fool. Well, almost nobody’s fool.

His hand lands on Wayne’s shoulder, going for fondness while ignoring the emotions playing out behind his uncle’s faded eyes. Softening a bit, Eddie offers an olive branch, “Wanna get drunk and watch White Christmas? I had Steve snag it for me.” Patting at his damp cheeks, Wayne nods happily, sappily, “That sounds great-” The phone trills shrilly, cutting through their conversation and Wayne lifts his eyebrows in Eddie’s direction. But his nephew shakes his head. “Ignore it. I’m exactly where I want to be.” Whoever was looking to score was gonna have to call back. Three rings later and Wayne is practically shoving Eddie towards the receiver, “Just answer the damn thing!” Grumpy and gruff, he gives in, whipping up the phone, “Yea?” —-------------- It was December 23rd and the party at Barry’s house was winding down, thankfully. People had been peeling off in pairs and trios, leaving just a few of your boyfriend’s buddies drinking the night away and ignoring you. At some point you looked around and realized that Barry was just gone. The house he grew up in- still lived in, with his family, was, in a word, enormous. There were dozens of rooms and thousands of doors which made your search all the harder. It was just like him to vanish, leaving you to fend for yourself when he had assured you that this time it would all be different. Arms circle your thick waist from behind as he pulls you into the second floor bathroom, pressing you against the granite countertop while lifting your pretty green skirt, “I’m so hard right now, gotta fuck you.” You giggle uncomfortably, already feeling a little too full of bubbling champagne, “Barry! Here? Now?” But you don’t get an answer beyond a rough tear in your tights, Barry’s fingers shifting your panties to the side abruptly, “Yea, right fucking now.” And then he was pushed inside of you, his thrusts sloppy and bordering on painful as he drunkenly rubs at your full breasts through your sweater. If he was concerned with your needs, it didn’t show in the fast sawing motion of his hips, and before you could even trace the beginning of your own ending, Barry was babbling through his own. Curving over your back, he pants in your ear, “Hmm, that was great.” Pulling out of you quickly, Barry tucks himself back into his chinos and presses a tiny kiss to your cheek, “Make sure you clean up before coming out to say goodbye to everyone.” And then he’s gone, leaving you frustrated with sticky thighs. You thank a god you don’t believe in for birth control pills and shuffle over to the toilet, eager to tidy up the mess Barry had left in his wake. Swiftly removing your torn pantyhose, you toss them in the trash can, regretting the loss. Money wasn’t exactly tight, but you were trying to save as much as you could, unlike your upperclass boyfriend. Flushing behind you, you replace your panties and wash your hands. Wiping some water over your cheeks, you smile at yourself in the mirror, confident that no one would know what had happened in the bathroom between you and Barry. Carefully, you shut the bathroom door, surprised when you hear voices, low pitched, in the nearby hallway. Whispers that carry the weight of the familiar voice of your boyfriend begging quietly, “Come on baby, it’s Christmas.” “So? You told me you were done with that trash, Barry and then, then you bring her here. Throwing her in my face? Are you trying to hurt me?” “Dawn, please. You know I only want you.” “Barry, I want you too, baby. But I won’t share you, not with someone like her-” And then the sounds of sloppy kisses gain strength, complete with moans and grunting. It was bordering on pornographic, like something private that shouldn’t be witnessed by anyone but those involved and you wish that you weren’t having to hear it at all. A gross knot of nausea welled up inside of you at the realization of what was happening, and so soon after Barry had cornered you in his bathroom. Disgusted now, you knew you had to leave. The sooner the better. On quiet feet you tiptoe into the nearest bedroom and choking back tears, reach for the phone. Dialing the only number you can think of, the only you have committed to memory, you pray to that same god that he’ll pick up. Finger twisting in the beige cord as you wait through four long rings, nervousness and shame filling your belly as you wait for the call to connect. “Yea?” His voice is gruff, grumpy, which takes you by surprise. It makes your own sound small as you ask timidly, “Eddie?” “What’s wrong? Where are you?” It’s immediate, that change in tone, his understanding of your need, and you drop into a whisper, “Would it be too much trouble for you to come and get me? I- I don’t think Barry-” He breaks in, direct and guarded, “Meet me at the corner. I’ll be there in ten.” The line went dead in your ear, a sure sign that Eddie was already en route to you. Sneaking away was easy when your boyfriend was frenching someone else and no one else at the party cared about you. Scooping up your fuzzy holiday sweater, you went right out the front door into the chilly night, without anyone noticing. Sobbing openly, you scurry to the corner, suddenly overeager to get away from this whole night. Eddie told you ten minutes, but he made it in seven, the van idling loudly when you rounded the corner. Dashing away tears, you climb into the heavenly heat of his vehicle, smiling tightly, “Hey Eddie. Thank you so much, I just- I really needed to get out of there.” He eyes you, a look full of questions, but wisely Eddie asks none of them. Waiting for you to buckle up, he rests a broad palm on your thigh, patting it twice, “No problem, sweets. Where we headed?” “Just home, if that’s alright. I’m- I’m kinda tired.” Putting the van in drive, he appraises you from the corner of his eye. Something about you was so small tonight it made Eddie’s heart hurt. When he heard you on the phone that damaged sound in your voice was enough to make his Spidey sense tingle. It was wrong, the way you had whispered, asking- no, pleading for him to come and get you. Wayne completely understood why he had to leave, even if it was in the middle of putting the final touches on their Munson Christmas traditions. Besides, nothing was going to stop Eddie, not when you sounded so shattered. Clearly something had happened, something not great. And it was something big enough for you to run away from Barry’s huge holiday party, something you had been talking about for weeks. So, while Eddie appreciates you calling him in your hour of need, he absolutely wants to know how to make it better for you and make sure that you’re really alright. “That’s okie-dokie artichokie. But, uh, can you just tell me-” turning to you now, his deep eyes searching yours, full of concern, “-you’re not hurt, right?” He couldn't stand to think about what he might be capable of if you said that you were, or had been. But still, Eddie needed to make sure that you were okay for his own sanity’s sake.

You nod shyly, appreciating the kind hearted way that Eddie handles your privacy, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Looking away, you hum lowly, “Yea, Ed. I’m alright.”

“You sure?” “Uh huh. Just got my heart hurt, so, ya know, nothing too serious.” You try for lighthearted, breezy, but you don’t sell it because Eddie frowns, “Just your heart? Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” There’s a lot of things you find hard to bear, but Eddie’s pity is just too much. It punches the air out of your lungs. It crumples your bottom lip, setting your chin wobbling as you give into the burning tears of your heartbreak. Smoothly, Eddie pulls over although you’re not too far from home by now. You can hear his seat belt unlock and then your own is set free so that Eddie can scoot you closer. His chin rests on the top of your head as you cry into his neck, his voice soothing as he comforts you, “It’s ok. It’s going to be alright, sweetheart. You’re going to be ok. Hush now.” You don’t know how long you let Eddie console you, his leather jacket warm under your damp cheek, but eventually the sobs become sniffles and the sniffles fade to hiccups. Pulling out of the comfort of Eddie’s embrace, your eyes red and cheeks chapped, you lament thickly, “I got you all wet! I’m so sorry, Ed!” “Hey, stop that. I’m fine.” Brushing wayward hair from your streaky and sticky face, Eddie tuts, “Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yea.” It’s sad sounding, but you’re being honest. You will be ok once you get home, have a shower, and start putting Barry behind you. It helps to have a friend like Eddie Munson there to offer his shoulder to cry on. He fusses over you for another minute, wiping away the crystalline dew of your tears with his thumbs, “I’m here for you, whatever you need.” Eddie makes you stay in your seat until he can open the door for you, like a gentleman should, and walks you to your door. His hand is loosely holding yours as you slide your key into the lock. Almost embarrassed, you look his way, suddenly shy again, “Wanna come in? I’ve got some beer and I think The Grinch is on tonight.” Laughing a little, Eddie shrugs, agreeing easily but still giving you the option for backing out, “Alright, if you don’t mind?” “Of course not.” Once inside you slink out of your coat and motion for Eddie to do the same, “Have a seat. I’ll be right back with something to drink.” Your place was very sweet, just like you, with a tinsel tree glowing with colored lights and other small holiday decorations set out just so. It seems to Eddie like you’re also on the Christmas Crazy-Train. There are two small boxes laying on the red plaid skirt beneath the tree and a single stocking tacked under the television stand. He half expects you to leave out some cookies and milk, as if Santa was going to shimmy down your chimney tomorrow night and deliver you a Christmas miracle. Eddie couldn’t help it. He thought it was precious, sorta like you. And if he’s being honest, he feels as though his own Christmas miracle is happening, right here, right now. For two long years, you had been friendly, a close relationship beginning when you both reached for a recently returned copy of Evil Dead at Family Video. In a moment of unprecedented cool guy maneuvering, Eddie’s suggestion that you come over to his place and watch it together. When you agreed, offering him that sweet smile of yours, well, that had started everything. He didn’t regret it, couldn’t even if he wanted to. It wasn’t your fault that Eddie was using you as the standard against which all other ladies in his life would be judged. And even though, in a bunch of unsuccessfully small ways, Eddie had tried to nudge your friendship in a more romantic direction, he was still as sprung on you as he had been from that very first moment. Now, he was here, with you, and so close to the big holiday. It felt like his own Christmas miracle might be possible, if he believed in that kind of stuff- which he didn’t. Because Christmas was a commercial product. It was soulless, despite what people said to the contrary. But still, he rubbed his hands over his thighs nervously as he thought that maybe tonight was the night. Tonight you would see him as the charming, romantic leading man that you deserved in your life and not just the guy who bailed you out when trouble came around. Eddie’s seen enough of the fluffy, feel-good films that capitalize on the holiday season to recognize that he may be a part of one, with you. Because it couldn’t just be a coincidence that you called him on Christmas Eve, needing help and knowing exactly where to go to get it, right? From the sound of things, Barry was quickly moving out of the boyfriend column and into the exes pile. Another coincidence? He sure as shit hoped not, but Eddie can’t get his hopes up, they’ve been dashed too many times. With eyes that couldn’t seem to settle on anything in particular, Eddie’s mind strays to the countless other times where you had required rescuing and he had charged, nobly, into the fray. Finding you crying on the nearest corner after running out on Barry’s insensitivity, pulling up in his ratty van outside of a party where you had clearly been unhappy, and once driving to the Indiana state border to fetch you from another one of your idiot boyfriend’s debacles. Each time he promised himself that it was the last time- that he was going to protect himself, he was going to stop answering the phone, he was going to tell you how he felt. But the calls, they just kept coming. Happening way too frequently for his liking, the worn muscle of his heart tightening every time Eddie had to hear you sob, or listen to you talk about the belittling way Barry treated you. Over and over again, you let the guy break your heart, only to take him back after some groveling and half meant apologies. And over and over again, Eddie could feel his own aortic organ shriveling up from the knowledge that you refuse to see him as anything more than your second choice. Tensing, he rubbed the back of his, wondering why he was here, waiting for you. Sometimes, it seemed to Eddie, like he was always just waiting around for your next phone call, your next emergency. On hold until the phone rang, on the shelf, out of use. Sure, he went out, hanging around other people; Steve and Robin, obviously, the Hellfire crew, his band. Other than that, Eddie was at home, puttering around, on alert for the jingling ring that means you’re tagging him in for an assist. And he hates it. He truly does, because even though he hasn’t said it in exactly these words, Eddie needs you too. Even more than that, he needs you to need him. It gives him a purpose, a reason for sticking around this one horse town that isn’t connected to tragedy or trauma. You were unavailable, sure, but always present, the living embodiment of his happiness and his sadness. Eddie couldn’t help that the ache of wanting you for his own and always coming up short, time after time, was starting to splinter him into pieces. Snapping his head up at the scuffing steps you made, you pad back into the room wearing a cozy flannel nightgown, complete with elastic wrist cuffs and satin covered buttons at the throat. In place of your make-up was a scrubbed clean face, glowing from the effort. Your heels had been replaced by a pair of simple slippers. Eddie swallows thickly, all of his other thoughts knocked out of his head. Never had a woman been more covered up and still so alluring. The old fashioned sleep shirt skimmed over the sweeping curve of your hips, but still managed to show off your shapely legs and graceful neck. He isn’t sure why it affected him so much, this comfortable and easy version of you, but it did. “Do you still want a beer?”

He’s seen your mouth move, shaping the sounds of your question, but Eddie is dumbstruck by the innocent version of you hovering at the doorway. Tossing his head, mostly to clear away the fog of his want, he croaked, “What?”

Giggling softly, you take a step closer, “I asked if you were thirsty. Still want that drink?” “Oh, that? Yea, yea sure.” Knowing that he must seem mental, Eddie shifted on the couch, rolling his eyes at his own erratic behavior. From over your shoulder you ask him to turn on the tv, “The Grinch is on channel five, I think.” “Gotcha!” The snap of the television coming to life fills the small space and you were practically running around the corner by the time Boris Karloff starts his narration. Plopping down right next to Eddie, you gently hand him a bottle and drop a bag of chips onto the table, “Just in case we get hungry.” “Uh huh. Since when do you like Doritos, huh?” Flicking at the plastic bag, Eddie gives you a friendly side-eye look, full of teasing. Settling back into the cushions, you tug Eddie’s arm around your shoulders, “Since I’ve been forced to eat them with you.” An appreciative tone rang out from Eddie’s chest as you pressed your ear over the dip in his torso, right over his heart. The gentle, even rhythm you found there was one of your favorite things and you took every available opportunity to listen to Eddie’s heartbeat. You couldn’t say why it was important or what it was about his particular pulse that made you feel better, but it did, and Eddie, well, he never seems to mind. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, petting sweetly over the strands of your hair that trailed down towards your shoulders and he saw you shiver, “Here.” Eddie tugged the knitted afghan from the back of the couch, tucking it in around you. Sighing, you snuggled into him, letting your eyes shut, feeling truly and completely at ease finally, “Hmm, thanks babe.” Babe? Oh shit. That wasn’t good. Not for his spiraling thoughts. Sipping his beer, he refocused on the green Grinch stomping on the screen. He couldn’t bear to look at you. Looking at you, right now, was dangerous. You were too precious. And the scene around him was too domestic. It was exactly what life should look like if you weren’t the town scapegoat, raised by your uncle in the worst part of town and Eddie didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid in pursuit of that idealized image. Against his thigh, Eddie felt you shift as you drifted off. You were practically in his lap with your head nuzzled into the center of his chest, eyes gently shut. If he wasn’t careful, Eddie was going to enjoy holding you like this, so close and so easy, a little too much. The Grinch was complaining about noise and Eddie understood the sentiment a little too well because right now he was struggling to ignore the little kitten snores you were making with every exhale. Your tiny huffed puffs blowing against his tummy, beer scented and sweet. He smiled down at you, full of affection and pulled you tighter to his side. Unable to stop himself, Eddie brushed a peck to your upturned forehead, whispering a rueful “Fuck” into the night. When The Grinch ended and Charlie Brown’s Christmas started, Eddie sat still, his empty beer bottle in his hand, afraid that any movement would wake you up. A news broadcast, filled with updates on the coming snow storm’s progress and holiday toy drive details wrapped up before the intro to Johnny Carson began. Through it all, Eddie kept his arm around you, enjoying the worn in feel of your nightgown under his hand and the way you were burrowed into the crook of his shoulder. It was hard to be in your space so intimately and not touch you, even if his hands burned at the effort of keeping them to himself. So, he didn’t trace the sweet sweep of your nose or tuck your hair behind your ears. And somehow, Eddie managed to keep from pulling you into his lap fully, just to pet you, like he would a sleeping kitten. Instead, he relished the trust you put in him, content to imagine happy kisses shared between the pair of you, while you dreamed next to him on the sofa. And you slept just like that, curled into Eddie Munson’s warmth until the strains of the National Anthem faded into staticy snow. You sat up quickly, pulling back from the shared heat you and Eddie had created with a yawn. Blinking his way sheepishly, your words full of drowsiness, “Sorry Ed- Did-” you rubbed your still sleepy eyes, “Did you- did you stay all this time just to let me sleep?” It was his turn to look bashful, and glancing out your window, Eddie nodded, “Yea. What can I say? You were too cute to move, sweetheart.” Snorting, you rolled your eyes at his kind words, “Oh, I bet I was! All drooly and-” But he cut you off with a firm finger under your chin that yanked you near enough for his lips to press into your own. A hungry sound, the kind a man makes when he’s digging into his favorite dinner, rolled through Eddie as you let your mouth part. Thick and probing, Eddie licked over your bottom lip, letting the kiss deepen as your hands tangled into the second skin of his t-shirt. His forehead rested against your own, chest rising and falling rapidly, as Eddie’s dark eyes locked on yours, “Hey.” “Hey,” you echoed, keenly aware of Eddie’s presence in your sphere, breathing him in with short inhales as you tried to quiet your racing heart. Hands that you know as well as your own come down to cup your face, handling you as if you were porcelain- precious beyond measure and utterly breakable, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Looking like a happy kid on Christmas morning, Eddie’s dimples show as he smiles your way, his fingers threading with yours. Falling back into his original spot, he drags you with him, eager to have you in his arms, but you hold yourself back, teeth toying at your bottom lip as you blurt, “But Barry. He’s-” Your words stick in your throat at the sight of Eddie’s crestfallen face, a new iciness filling each syllable, “What? He’s what, sweetheart?” When you don’t answer right away, a rage that he normally can keep in check threatens to overflow, as Eddie carried on in a rising voice, “I’ve seen- shit-” a fist slams into the meat of his thigh, his anger focused on that one spot as hurt filled eyes find yours in the silver light of the running television, “-I’ve seen what he’s done to you. How he treats you. How he hurts you over and over.” Slender fingers reach for your cheek but Eddie doesn’t touch you. Instead he lets his hand drop into his lap, his heart falling into the abyss as he manages to choke out, “And still, you’d rather be with him?” For a long second you didn’t answer, your brain too full of thoughts. A lot had happened in the few minutes since you woke up, huddled around Eddie’s middle and you still weren’t thinking straight. How could you after an incredible kiss like that? And Barry. What about him? Were you together? You didn’t think so, not after what you had overheard, but that final conversation hadn’t happened yet.

Eddie’s words surround you though, the pain in them unmistakable. Shaking your head slowly, you huskily counter, “I didn’t say that, Eddie. It’s just-” But he pushed to his feet without giving you a chance to explain. Swinging his jacket over his broad shoulders with furious flare, “Ya know, what? Don’t. I don’t wanna know. Just uh-” in three long strides Eddie’s jerked open your front door. His back is to you, the handsome face that you’ve come to associate with protection and honor haloed by the streetlights, Eddie chokes out over his shoulder, “Merry Christmas.”

Your door, red bowed wreath swinging, slammed shut and now, now your apartment feels really empty, cold. The lights on your tree seem garish and glaring as this year’s holiday slowly but surely becomes the worst kind of memory. Feelings that you’re too tired to process flow through you, but in the end you drag yourself to bed in the early hours of Christmas morning, wishing it all away as a bad dream. Flopping into bed, you clutched your pillow in your arms, disappointed that it didn’t have a pulse to share with you. Already missing Eddie, you kicked yourself for being so indecisive, for ruining the precious seconds where only you and he existed in the twinkling glow of Christmas lights. Pale sunlight was streaking the sky when you finally closed your eyes, hoping that you’d wake up to a world that was back in its proper alignment. Only, morning finds you, just the same, and unfortunately, there are no singing Whos to make you feel better about the night before. There’s no one to kiss you awake and wish you a Merry Christmas Eve or tell you about the snow that is just starting to fall in fat, perfect flakes. You don’t have anyone to cook for or watch open gifts. It’s just you, all by yourself. It was always going to be a small Christmas, you knew that, truly. You didn’t have much family and only a few friends, except for the people you met through your boyfriend or Eddie. In fact, the gifts laying under the tree had been for them, of course. Now they both were ghosts: Christmas Past and Christmas Present. At some point you throw yourself onto the couch, clicker in one hand, a can of Coke in the other even though it was still breakfast time. It was around that time he’d called, much too early for your liking, so you let the machine get it. With a self assured voice that proved how little he understood or cared about you, Barry had left a message asking you to bring a dessert when you came for dinner that night. A last minute request for a last minute invitation. He was so sorry, but you would do it, right? His call went unreturned. Angry, you immediately erased the tape and took the phone off the hook. After last night with Eddie, you were fairly certain that no one else was going to be calling. Not on Christmas Eve when there were presents and parties and people to enjoy. Besides, all this silence gave you time to think, so while Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby tap danced across the twelve inch screen of your tv, you did just that. And if your eyes got misty at Rosemary Clooney’s gift of a knight on a white horse, then that was just how good the movie was, right? It didn’t have a single thing to do with a certain man willing to ride into battle on your behalf, over and over and over again. The more you thought, the more you realized that Eddie hadn’t been wrong about the ways in which Barry failed you as a boyfriend. He had been treating you like garbage for a very long time, longer than anyone should tolerate, but when you had so little, even the scraps seemed significant. Swallowing down your less than festive Swanson’s turkey dinner lunch, you realized that you didn’t want scraps- not anymore. Changing the channel, Jimmy Stewart’s drawl takes over the room, but you're not thinking about bells ringing. You’re thinking about Eddie, again. Still. You’re thinking about how, even now, your nightie smells like tobacco and light beer and old leather. You’re thinking about the sacred synth beating of his heart and how it always seems to settle you. You’re thinking about that tender kiss he laid on you when your brain was still fuzzy but your body knew just how to respond.

You’re thinking about Eddie this Christmas Eve, but is he thinking about you?

— Eddie has never been more miserable in life. Surrounded by all of his friends, gorging themselves on pie and turkey and ham and potatoes and cookies cut to look like snowmen, mittens or bells, Eddie is cursing the whole Christmas season. All of the trappings are just red and green reminders of what he doesn’t have, what he can’t enjoy, what he had with you last night when you were tucked into him, safe and sound, while The Grinch stole Christmas. “What’s eating you?” Steve’s got a small paper plate in his hand, balancing a slice of lasagna along with a piece of cake that’s been stabbed through by a white plastic fork, as he dropped down beside Eddie. “Nothing.” Leaning his chin into his hand, Eddie’s elbow dug into the meat of his thigh, a grouchy position for a grouchy guy. Licking frosting off his fork, Steve hummed, “No way. Something’s got you all pissy. Pissier than usual- and on Christmas too! Come on, lay it on me.” Rolling his eyes Steve’s direction, Eddie sat back reluctantly, “I- I think I fucked up.” Steve’s bite of lasagna hovered in midair, between the plate and his open mouth, as he tossed his infamous locks, “Impossible. It’s Christmas.” “What’s that got to do with it?” Eddie grumbled, sitting up swiftly. Really, was that any kind of explanation? It was December 25th so your life couldn’t be totally screwed up? Humbug. Chewing loudly, Steve nodded, holding up a finger as a silent indicator for Eddie to wait up until he swallowed. With a sip of his egg nog, Steve twisted in Eddie’s direction, “Well, first, everyone loves Christmas. Everyone but you, I mean. It makes people feel better. Want to be better, do better, ya know?” “So?” “So, you’re more likely to be forgiven for fucking up. I mean, shit. Nance and I got back together over Christmas. It’s magical, dude.” Blowing out a noise that was similar to a fart, Eddie shook his head in frustration, “It’s a day, Harrington. One day out of 365. Why does everyone make such a big deal-” “Are you kidding me? Have you like, never seen A Christmas Carol or, or watched ‘Rudolph’?” Confused, Eddie shrugs, “I have, but-” “But what? All the songs, the movies, the stories, they’re all about loving each other- and, and being kind at Christmas time.” Throwing up his hands, Eddie stared at his friend, his smile sort of sad, “Well, what if you kiss someone who’s still hung up on their asshole boyfriend?” With rounding, wide eyes, Steve stuttered, “You- you kissed her? It’s about damn time, man!” Flopping back, his long haired head resting against the tall cushion of the Wheeler’s couch, Eddie groused, “Naw, Harrington. She-” sighing deeply, willing the pain out of his tone, “-she’d rather stay with Barry.” Steve tossed down the empty plate, standing quickly, “No. Nope. Nuh uh.” Looking around, shocked by Steve’s sudden movements, Eddie can’t help asking, “What’s happening, Steve?” Bending at the waist, his handsome forelock falling forward, Steve’s hands find his hips as he admonishes the depressed rocker in front of him, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. You’re getting up and going over there. You have to talk to her, man.” Glaring up at his friend from under his shaggy bangs, Eddie shook his head defiantly, “No way. No fucking way. She-” Leaning down further, dad stance activated, Steve snapped, “Do you like her? Do you-” pausing to cock an eyebrow skyward, “-love her?” Gulping guiltily, Eddie’s head bounced in response as Steve added, “I thought so. Well, the good thing for you is that this magical day isn’t over. You never know what might happen if you go and talk to her. I mean, it’s Christmas, man. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find out you didn’t fuck up everything after all.” “Is this some kinda motivational speech, Harrington?” Tilting his head as that wicked grin spread over his face, Eddie isn’t laughing at Steve, but he can’t help mocking him just a little bit. Confusion filling his face, Steve faltered for a second, “Uh, is- is it working?” Genuinely this time, Eddie smiled genuinely, “Yea, I think it is.” Straightening his spine, resolute, Steve countered, “Then, yes. I’m motivating you with my speech. Now, uh, get lost, Munson.” Offering his unlikely friend a hand, Steve pulled Eddie to his feet and was already ushering him towards the door. “Alright, but if this backfires, I’m coming back here and kicking your ass to the tune of Jingle Bells.” “Fair enough.” Steve tapped him twice on the back as Eddie slid towards the van, his sneakers not offering much traction in the snow, “Go get her, Munson.” Eddie started the van and gave Steve a thumbs up before backing slowly out of the driveway. For some reason, his heart felt lighter, buoyed by the pep talk from his buddy. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe there was a way to save this Christmas after all. Mind whirling, he was already planning out what to say to you- an apology to start. And he was sorry. Sorry for kissing you out of the blue. Sorry for not telling you how he felt. Sorry for talking about your boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend? Whatever the hell he was now. But mostly, Eddie was sorry for walking away without telling you what was going on inside his head. You deserved that much at least. Snow was falling faster now, dusting the whole town in powdered sugar whiteness, and he found himself hunching over the steering wheel to see better between the drifting flakes. His defrost was working overtime, struggling to keep the fog off his windshield, as he cursed, “Jesus Christ!” As he got closer to your place his headlights illuminated a person, bundled up like a snowman, trudging along the barely plowed street. Shaking his head as he slowly rolled past, Eddie couldn’t understand what would possess someone to do something like that, even if it was Christmas Eve. What was so damned important that you went out in bad weather, a soggy sack of gifts melting under the swiftly shifting snow, he’d like to know. Pressing on the brake, Eddie stopped, disbelief flooding him. “No. No way-”

— Snow was dropping down in gentle swirls when you decided that you had to see Eddie, regardless of the fading sunlight, before Christmas Eve came to a close. Too much had been said, too much left unsaid, for your mind to let it go. Not to mention the way your heart ached dully when you thought about the wounded look on his face before he’d left you, stunned and speechless, after that tasty kiss. No. It was Christmas, dammit. And at Christmas, you told people how much they meant to you. How much you needed them. How much you relied on their strength, their warmth, their willingness to take teary phone calls at all hours of the night and then come rescue you from shitty situations time and again. How much you, gulp, loved them. It was Christmas Eve and you were only just now realizing that there was one person who you needed to make the holiday happy and bright. One dark hued, leather wearing metal head who just happens to be the white knight of your personal story. You just hoped it wasn't too little, too late. Jamming his gift into a bag, you dressed as warmly as you could, layering up like a cake before lacing up your boots. Pulling on a striped winter hat, complete with a fuzzy pom pom on top, you zipped up your heavy coat and stepped outside, shivering in the chill. You didn’t have a car of your own, so you were going for a wintery walk to the trailer park, all in the name of love.

With a foggy exhale, you hummed to yourself, “Oh, the weather outside is frightful-” On a good day, the walk to Eddie’s place was about fifteen minutes. Today, Christmas Eve, during a snowstorm, that quarter of an hour turns into forty five minutes easily. Color rose up on your cheeks, across your nose, and the tips of your ears. Anywhere you couldn’t cover with a scarf or coat was chapping in the cold air. And you had long ago stopped your singing. Forced to walk on the road since most of the sidewalks were untreated, you didn’t mind, but you were incredibly cautious about oncoming traffic. You wanted to talk to Eddie, not get turned into road pizza on the biggest holiday of the year, so you are walking into the wind and making yourself as visible as possible in the coming dusk. Still, it required a lot of effort on your part, even if you had started to question the sanity of your idea.

Headlights catch your eye and you raise a hand to block the brightness. The driver was going slow due to the snow and you move as far to the side as you can while also avoiding a slushy splash. Tucking further into your scarf, you trudged on, rehearsing the speech you were going to give when Eddie opened his trailer door. And maybe that’s why you didn’t notice when the passing vehicle slid to a stop before reversing on the empty roadway. All you know is that one second you were inside your head, white flakes flying past in swirling cyclones, and the next you hear a shout, “What the hell are you doing?” “Eddie?” Stopping short, your head snapped up at a voice you know as well as your own. He was out of the van in a flash, his hands gripping onto your shoulders tightly, “It’s cold as fuck out here, not to mention snowing like crazy, and you’re just- just walking around?” Tipping your chin up, you eyed him from under the brim of your stocking cap, “I was going to your place. I- I have a gift-” “A gift? Sweet fucking Christ! You coulda been killed! A car could have- or, or, you could have slipped on ice and hit your head. I mean, do you have any idea-” Horrible scenario after horrible scenario filled Eddie’s mind. Worrying about what could have happened to you and knowing that it hadn’t could not stop the flipped switch of his panic. With a cracking voice, Eddie pulled you into his heart, his warmth, questioning you brokenly, “What if I hadn’t seen you? What if- what if something happened to you and I wasn’t able to stop it. To save you?”

His grip tightens around you and your bulky coat, almost lifting you off the ground, “What would I do if-” A sweet half smile curls over your face as you put a mittened hand over his chest, cutting him off, “Eddie.” Your voice stills him, those wide burnt sugar eyes locking on yours, as he tips your head up, “Yea?” Pushing up onto the toes you could barely feel, you pressed a chaste kiss to Eddie’s warm mouth, lingering in his cinnamon gum scented sphere. For a second, he froze, your cold nose rubbing against his as your eyes fluttered shut. Then, his arms pulled you as close as your jacket allowed, those lips of his finding your chapped ones with a happy hum. Heat rushed through you, a welcome change from the dropping temperatures out on the snowy street. Only this heat was spreading from the clenching muscles in your tummy, a fire ignited by the wanting way Eddie moaned into your mouth. His nimble tongue danced alongside yours as the sky deepened into an inky indigo, dotted with picture perfect snowflakes. Fingers, pinkening from the cold air, tug on the ends of your scarf ensuring that you can’t get away from Eddie this time. He didn’t need to worry. You weren’t going anywhere, not without Eddie Munson, anyway. Not anymore. Parting in a puff of heavy air that turned silver in the snowy night, Eddie’s forehead bumped against the cuff of your cap, a goofy grin making his dimples impossible to ignore, “Hey.” “Hey.” Looking up at him through the curve of your lashes, expectant and excited, you were waiting to see what Eddie’s next move would be. You were rosy from cold, eyes shining bright in the fading light of day, and Eddie had never wanted you more. Swallowing thickly, you watched his Adam’s Apple bob while his arms rubbed over your thick sleeves, “Can I- Will you let me take you home?” Biting into your bottom lip, you nod quickly, “Yea. Yes, please.” Guiding you, Eddie ensured that you’re safely situated in the passenger seat before securing your buckle and shutting the door. You giggled as he moved around the front of the van, slipping in the slush, his face illuminated in the headlights. Catching your eye, he winks wickedly and then is seamlessly sliding behind the steering wheel with a wild toss of his snow-dampened hair, “Where to m’lady?” Sighing deeply, but happily, you pull off your winter hat, staticy strands sticking up at odd angles, “I’d normally say take me home, but-” “But?” There’s caution in Eddie’s voice. Like a skim of ice on the lake, things between you are still tentative- not solid, and he has a momentary lapse of confidence. Laying a hand on his denim clad thigh, leaning closer to reassure him, you shrugged, “But I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. It’s Christmas Eve.” It gives Eddie an idea. A wonderful idea. A perfect, Hallmark Card, winter wonderland idea. “Ok, but just remember… You asked for it.” His tone is playful when Eddie swings the van in a circle, turning from the direction of your place back the way he came. Oh, he’s nervous. There weren’t a lot of people who had been to his trailer; just the closest, dearest of friends. Steve had seen the inside of the clean and cozy space a time or two, Robin and Nancy for sure, but mostly, Eddie was the guy pulling up to your place, not the other way around. A small Christmas tree, loaded with lights and ornaments faced the gravelly road where Eddie’s uncle was already parked. There’s strands of blinking lights criss-crossing the awning and a small sign that says, “Santa Stop Here” propped up on the porch. It’s a sweet sight, a glowing, golden invitation on a cold and snowy Christmas night and you can’t help the dopey look of glee on your face at what you’re seeing. Pulling the van in smoothly, Eddie held up a hand, “Wait, k? I haven’t been here to shovel.” Agreeing with a head bob, you sat patiently as he stomped around, snow high enough to cover his sneakers. Snagging your bag, you are prepared to step into the snow, but Eddie doesn’t give you the chance. One foot touched the ground and then he’s bear hugging you, walking you straight to the stairs as you laugh, “What are you doing?” “Keeping you from getting cold feet. Obviously!” Once he’s sure you’re on the firm ground of his steps, Eddie bounced back and kicked the van’s door closed. He brushed by you, his hand finding your elbow so that he could haul you inside, calling out warmly, “Hey, Uncle Wayne! Hope you don’t mind-” An older, more worn in version of Eddie, minus the long locks, popped a head out from the kitchenette, “Wha? Oh. Oh, we’ve got company then?” Wiping his hands on a well used dish cloth, he moved closer, arms wide, “I’m Eddie’s uncle- Wayne, in case you didn’t get that part.” The hug is crushing and so full of tenderness that you can’t help but wrap your arms around this new person, squeezing hard as he welcomes you. Stepping back, Uncle Wayne kept a firm hand on you, but eyed Eddie steadily, “Your phone call, I take it?” Chuckling nervously, Eddie rubbed a palm across the back of his neck, ruffling his hair in the process. He’s never been able to hide much from his uncle, this is no exception, and he can tell that he’s busted. “Yea, Wayne. She’s the one who called last night.” A look passed between them, approving and accepting, before Wayne clapped his hands, asking, “Are ya hungry, darling? It’s not much, but it’s our tradition, so to speak.” “If you don’t mind? I-” “Mind?” Wayne says it as if he’s offended by the idea, “You’ll be doing me a favor. Keep this one-” pointing at Eddie with an up turned thumb, “-on his best behavior. Come on!” Your jacket disappeared into a closet somewhere and Eddie helped you shuck the soaking boots you’ve been wearing for much too long. Excusing yourself, you duck into the bathroom, and when you come back, there’s a heartwarming scene unfolding in front of you. Wayne and Eddie, setting an extra place at the table, grumbling about the “good china” which you can tell is paper plates. Stopping, Wayne appraised his nephew for beat as Eddie centered a folded paper towel over your spot. A small smile pulled at the corners of his uncle’s mouth before Wayne dragged Eddie into an unwilling hug that ended with a firm clap on the younger man’s back. You swing back into the room at the sound, “This- this looks great, you guys!” A pot of macaroni and cheese, neon orange and buttery, sits in the center of the table. There’s a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches, cut into triangles and piled high on a Miller High Life tin tray, next to a bowl of salad greens. A big bottle of ranch dressing standing proudly at its side. “It’s not traditional, I guess-” Eddie started but Uncle Wayne cut him off, “It’s our tradition! All of Eddie’s favorite food is here. Except the salad, of course.” “Except the salad.” He echoed his uncle, offering you a sandwich from the tray while his teeth pinch the fat of his lip, desperate for your acceptance. He had no reason to worry. It’s just so lovely to be with other people, especially guys like the Munson boys. They pass around bottles of beer, telling stories, making you laugh so hard that your stomach muscles ache from it. From deeper in the trailer you heard the sound of an alarm clock buzzing and Uncle Eddie exhaled hard, “Well children, I have to get going.” Looking up from your seat at their table, you questioned, “No! You’re not leaving are you?” Taking one of your hands in his, Wayne pats it gently, “Double time at the plant is too good to pass up, even if the company is as excellent as yours, darling.” Pouting, you let your bottom lip stick out and Eddie is struck by an urge to kiss you stupid. Instead of whipping you into his arms in front of his uncle, Eddie stood up and started clearing the table, “Ok, old man. You can stop flirting with her now.” “Me? I would never!” And you could hear the same teasing tone in Uncle Wayne’s voice that Eddie has inherited. It’s flattering and flustering at the same time and you just knew that they could feel the flush of heat radiating off of you from the attention they both give you. “Yea, yea. Here-” Eddie handed a small box to Wayne, “-Food, for tonight’s shift.” “Thanks, son.” Turning in your chair you watched Wayne shrug on his coat, popping the collar up high to block some of the snow that’s still falling. At the doorway he nodded your direction, “Don’t be a stranger young lady. Merry Christmas to you both!”

And then the trailer goes quiet. Eddie pivoted fast, big eyes finding yours, and you both started laughing again. “Shit! I mean, I knew Uncle Wayne had moves, I’ve just never seen them in action like that before.” Feigning innocence, you placed a hand over your heart, “Do you mean to tell me that he was flirting? My, my, you Munson men must have a type!” Eddie’s chuckle petered out, his face growing serious, as he looked you over, “Yea. We do. Pretty ladies who uh, who walk through snow storms and love The Grinch.” You didn’t laugh because it wasn’t funny anymore. Reaching out his hand, Eddie lifted you to your feet, spinning you in place before bringing his hands to your hips. “Hey, hang on, k?” Nodding, you missed his presence when he stepped up to the record player hidden in the corner of the living room. The speakers spring to life, and with a triumphant grunt, Eddie placed a 45 on the turntable before returning to you. Nat King Cole started to croon about chestnuts and open fires, but you’re hardly listening. You’re caught up in the way Eddie’s eyes reflect the multi-colored lights of his cute Christmas tree, reds and greens and yellows and blues. The feeling of his hands swaying you back and forth, moving you where he needed you to be, is intoxicating, heady. Drawing your palms over his forearms, you slid them higher, higher, higher, until you could lace them behind Eddie’s neck. He stretched against your folded fingers, looking down at you, “I’m really glad that you came over tonight. I don’t think Wayne will ever get over it.” Snickering sweetly, you wet your lips, “He loves you.” “He’s the only one.” Shaking your head, your hooded gaze never leaving his, you countered, “Uh uh. That’s not true.” Eddie tilted his head, studying your expression, “You calling me a liar, sweetheart?” His tone was playful but the tenor was low, raspy, grating, and you matched it when you answered, “Yea, maybe I am.” “Are you saying that you love me?” Whispering, just in case he was dreaming, just in case he had to deny that these words had ever been spoken, Eddie paused all movement. You nod, yes, but it’s not enough. Not for Eddie. Not tonight. “Please, I need- I need you to say it.” A clock ticked away the seconds while you peered into the hot cocoa gaze of the only man you truly trusted, “I love you, Eddie. I- I think I always have, really.” If you could capture an image to look over forever, it would be the face Eddie made at your husky confession. The unadulterated joy that crowds his features made you think about New Year’s Eve fireworks, exploding and expanding as they brilliantly burst. Eddie broke your hold on him, his fingers threaded between your own as he brought a hand up to press a little kiss to your knuckles. “I know. It took you long enough to realize it, though, sweetheart.” Looking away from him, a stupid, giddy smile grew across your face. You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I was waiting for the right moment? ‘Tis the season, ya know?” Eddie didn’t reply, at least not with words. He picked his moment and using your waist as leverage, snugged you tight to his lean body. One arm braced along your spine as his other hand cupped your bountiful bottom, tipping you off center a bit so that he could wrap your leg over his hip. He’s so solid, so sturdy, that you melted into the embrace, letting Eddie support you entirely as you gripped at his firm biceps. That curtain of ebony hair brushed against your cheek as your mouth searched for and found more of Eddie to taste. Mewling against his lips, you could feel his growing excitement and your core pulsed with need at the idea of having all of Eddie, all for yourself. Pinching your bottom, Eddie straightened you both up, jerking his head towards the small room at the end of the hall, “Come on.” A little light headed, you followed where he led, landing in his personal domain. It’s a space dominated by his love of music and all things D&D related, and it smelled so good, so right, that you launched yourself in his direction, needy lips already moving in on him. Eddie met you there, in the middle, ready and wanting. Longing for him, you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to feel Eddie under your hands. Gliding higher, Eddie chuckled, catching your hands in one of his, “Your hands are freezing!” “Sorry!” You rubbed them together, blowing on them, trying to warm them up as quickly as possible. “S’ok, I got you.” He stepped away and crossed his hands at the bottom of his shirt before ripping it off in one fluid motion. Eddie is stunning. His compact and constant strength is evident in the smooth lines of his chest, his tattoos a road map to pleasure. You didn’t know whether to touch him, or kiss him, or lick him- your thoughts derailed entirely when he tisked, “Um, see something you like?” Beneath your hands Eddie felt so substantial, so solid. Tracing his ribs, you leaned in to kiss the places where black ink outlined the images associated with his rock and roll persona, keeping a hold on his trim waist. When you reached the hollow of his chest, the place that hovered above his heart, you lingered long enough to purple the skin there as yours. Home. It’s the sort of attention that Eddie isn’t accustomed to- someone showering him in affection. The time its taken for your tongue to lick lines over his pecs, press kisses across his collar bone, nips at the cologne stained skin of his neck, feels like decades. Eons. Ages. But he let you take that time. Breathing became a struggle, especially when you purse your lips and sucked little red splotches over the length of his core, your still chilly fingers dug into the muscles of his back as a reminder for him to keep still. Tentatively, you played with his belt, not wanting to show just how eager you truly were in this moment. He doesn’t stop you, instead Eddie moves your hands to his handcuff shaped buckle, encouraging you, “Yea, go ahead, babe. I- I want you to.” Jumping at the contact, Eddie’s stomach muscles contracted and he hissed. Dropping to your knees, you pushed his jeans down, down, down, and tapped his calf. It was a silent way of telling him to move his feet so you could get his pesky pants off of him. From this position, Eddie stood tall and straight like a mythological hero above you. Other guys might have tried to hide their growing erections, crossing their hands over any visible sign of their desire, but that’s not Eddie’s style. If anything, he parted his legs, widening his stance to showcase his masculine power. And if the boxers he wore weren’t covered in Santa faces, then you were certain his manliness would have overpowered you. “Ah! These are very cute.” Flicking at the hem of his shorts, you had to tease him. You have to lighten the mood otherwise, you were going to combust right to ash at his feet. “‘Tis the season- isn’t that what you said?” Throwing your words back at you, Eddie let his fingers tangle in your hair, urging your head back as your dewey mouth parted. You were so close to him, to his aching stiffness, that all his willpower is being channeled into behaving. It would be all too easy to dig his thumbs into the pudgy flesh of your cheeks, keeping your mouth open wide as he fed his hard cock between your lips until you were full up with Eddie. A shadow of his thoughts crossed behind his eyes and you gulped audibly, pressing your thighs together at the idea of him using you for his own end. Only, that wasn’t who Eddie Munson was, at heart. There was no forcing, no taking, not without talking first. And that alone was so very different from whatever his name was that you were already feeling more excited, more aroused than you could ever remember being before. Nodding at his quip, you stretched your fingers toward the gathered elastic band of his jockey shorts, but he stopped you, “Not yet, ok, pretty girl? Wanna see you first, alright?” “Oh, yea, ok. Sure.” You stood up on shaking legs, never breaking the heated stare between you and Eddie. Slowly you started to peel off the layers of clothing that you had wrapped around yourself before heading out into the snow. Fumbling, you toed off one thick sock when Eddie’s low laugh interrupted your eager undressing, “Lemme help you. You helped me, it’s only fair.” Motioning to his thigh, you brought your socked foot up, inhaling sharply when Eddie rolled the soggy wool down your toes before chucking it towards the door. Those calloused fingers massaged up your calf, the muscles there tense from your excursion, and you groaned gratefully at the softening his touch brings. Too soon, in your opinion, Eddie lowered your leg back to the floor, but it’s only because he was raising the bottom band of your hoodie over your head. Stumbling a bit, he caught you, now in a t-shirt and leggings, “Did you put on everything you own?” “It’s cold out! And I was walking here to tell the guy I love “Merry Christmas”!” It’s your best defense and the base honesty of it makes Eddie weak. “Fair enough, sweetheart, but I need you naked. Like, now.” His eyebrows are raised expectantly making you chortle as his overeager attitude. You got a little bit fresh though, wanting to tease him, to draw out the night, so you sass, “What if I’m your gift, huh Munson? And you’re just rushing through the unwrapping part-” He doesn't let you finish. Instead, Eddie scooped you up with his hands on your soft bottom, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck, “Oh, I know how to take my time, babe. Especially when it matters.” “Fuck, Eddie.” It’s a broken exhale, wanton and laced with a desperation that he had never heard from you before. He’s an addict already. Buttons part easily under Eddie’s knowing fingertips. Your flannel shirt and faded tee are thrown across the room joining the growing pile of your clothes. After your ribbed tank top comes off, the last barrier to your bountiful breasts is the emerald green bra you put in, hopeful that Eddie would have a chance to see it before the night ends. Now here he is, an owlish look on his wonder filled face, “Wow.” Heat climbed through you at the raw realness on display in Eddie’s features. That’s when you decided that you can’t wait any longer and took his wrists in your hands, placing them on your waist as you stepped into his arms, “Eddie, baby, please? Please touch me.” He doesn’t respond with words. Gripping you tight enough to bruise, your head is tipped back to make room for Eddie’s roving mouth as he scorches a path down your neck. At the swell of your breasts he slowed down, savoring the flavor of your skin, teasing you with his tongue. Licking over the lace of your bra, Eddie sucked on your hardened nipple through the fabric, the foreign sensation making you jump under his ministrations. You tangled a fist in his hair, pulling against the loose curls, and he let you direct his mouth back to your own bee stung lips as you mewl, “Need you, Eddie. Need you now.” “Fuck, baby.” Walking you backwards, Eddie lowered you onto his bed, following you down to the mattress. His hands cupped your cheeks, brushing your hair back so he could really see you, those broad thighs pressing your own open. You could feel the delicious weight of him on top of you, his hard cock unavoidable, and you rolled your hips into Eddie’s just to hear him groan. In a rush now, Eddie ripped your pants off in a flash, taking your panties with them. Kneeling between your spread legs, he laid his hands over his heart, “I really love-” you angled up onto your elbows, anticipating how he’ll finish his sentence, “-my Christmas gift. Thank you so much for bringing it over, even if you had to walk a mile in the snow.” “You shit!” Giggling at his theatrics, you grabbed for him, only satisfied when he’s draped over your prone figure. There’s a kiss then, and another, and another until they blend together in your mind. Some are sweet and slow. Some tender and testing. Others are sloppy, teeth clicking, tongue sucking kisses. Hands are everywhere. They glide along hairy thighs and smooth arms. They paused to fondle, to flick, to squeeze. They never stopped moving. Fingers find ticklish spots to linger on, drawing out laughter, high and sweet. Fingers press hard into soft skin. They dig in, they hold on. When Eddie’s bold enough, he touches you at the dark, damp cavern of your core. The un-rushed attention is overwhelming and it doubles in intensity when his calloused middle finger finds a home surrounded by your satin walls. Clutching at his arms, you wailed thinly, “More, Eddie, more, please.” A second finger breached your wet cleft, the stretch delicious and somehow delicate because Eddie’s listening to you, to your body, and he’s not rushing. His gaze had not left yours, the show you’re putting on is just too good to miss and he has a front row seat. Kissing over your tummy, moving lower, you bucked into his grip just as his plush pout pressed against your straining clitoris. Fisting his pillow with one hand, the other curled possessively around the back of his neck, holding him steady. Holding him close. Holding out for the inevitable peak of your pleasure, brought on by the unceasing attention of your lover. Panting, your thighs quaked, the ecstatic energy gathering in your body ready to explode. It’s been so long since you had someone take care of you, worry about pleasing you, think about getting you off first, that when your orgasm hits it is leveling. The air huffs out of you in short bursts as your body goes rigid, all of your limbs seem to lock up, and every molecule of your form is concentrated on the overriding bliss created by Eddie and his feelings for you. Maybe you blacked out, you don’t really know what else to call the far away floating sensation that accompanied your little death. What you do know is that Eddie has you gathered in his arms, your head cradled over that spot- your spot on his chest, his heartbeat the first sound that breaks through the fog of your climax. Rocking you back and forth, soft kisses pressing into the crown of your head, as Eddie cooed, “I got you, pretty girl. It’s alright. You’re ok, honey.” Shivering as you come down from your intense high, stray tears cascaded down your cheeks, but these are not born of sadness. Experiencing euphoria like this was overwhelming and you gratefully sunk into Eddie’s warmth, hiccuping, “I’m- I’m ok, Eddie. I’m- thank you. Thank you so much.” “Thank me? Sweetheart, I didn’t do-” Swiveling in his arms, you peered up at him through wet eyes, “But you did! You do. You always take such great care of me and tonight, all this, it’s no exception.” And you kissed him with everything you had in your heart, saying ‘I love you’ with your body over and over again. When you pulled back this time, a small hand on Eddie’s stubbled cheek, you shook your head, not believing that you were here, now, with this loving man, “I think I must be dreaming.” “Then, please, for the love of Ozzy, do not wake up.” An undignified snort of laughter snuck out of you and Eddie takes advantage of the distraction to lay you back on the bed. Floppy and boneless, you’re spread out and giggling, ready for whatever Eddie wanted to do. You run your foot over his leg, landing on his hip before he wrapped a hand around your ankle, steadying his hold on you to ensure that you were open wide for him. You nibbled on your pinky finger, knowing what came next, but playing coy. That sweetness, the innocent way you batted your eyelashes at him, it made Eddie throb. Yearning to be inside of you, he smooched at the skin of your inner thigh, “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Can I touch you, beautiful? Can I make you feel good?” Why would you ever say no to that? Letting your calves lock around his, you lifted your hips up so that you could hump against Eddie, “Please, Eddie, for fuck’s sake!” And then he was fisting himself, lining the hardest part of his body up with the softest part of your own, “Hey, hey, look at me.” Locked in on Eddie’s blown out stare, you licked over your bottom lip, which only made him groan. Dropping his chin, he shook his head, “You- you can’t look at me like that, baby. I’m going to cum before I ever get to feel you if you keep that up.” “But, I didn’t-” Running a hand through his hair so that it fell over his shoulder, he husked, “You can’t help it. You’re just so damned adorable and-” the expansive head of his cock caught at the slick circle of your quim, “-And I fucking love you.” Inhaling sharply, your body arched off the bed and straight into Eddie’s chest at his first breaching thrust. Hands tensing, your nails clawed at his forearms as he stilled, giving you time to adjust to his shattering length and stretching width. Distracting you, Eddie’s mouth dotted kisses along the base of your throat and over your jaw, before huskily growling into your ear, “I’m gonna move now, ok?” Noiseless, you nodded as Eddie kept his word. Withdrawing slowly, Eddie was exercising all the control he possessed to ensure that you got the best of him. And even with his concentration focused on the long, smooth strokes of his thrusts, he still managed to touch you, kiss you, mumble out sounds like yes and fuck and your name. “Eddie, more, please?” You hadn’t meant to whine but he felt so good that you wanted all you could get. It was as if you had cut him free by asking that question. Eddie let his body reply, rolling his hips, no longer pulling free from your velvet vice. Instead he surged forward, deeper and deeper with every press of his pelvis against your own.

Your sweaty skin had gone over goosebumps, a shivering, shining sensation spiraling from your core. You found your voice but could only manage to whimper as Eddie let a free hand rake over your thigh before his fingers landed on your clit, rubbing in light circles. The contact made your muscles clench and through gritted teeth, Eddie cursed, “Fucking hell, sweetheart!” His reaction made you giggle breathlessly, “I’m so close Eddie. Are you? Are you gonna cum?” “Yea. Yea I am, honey. Can you hold on? Cum with me?” Hugging him, your back off the mattress, you peppered him with kisses, agreeing with a happy hum. Eddie kept his rhythm, the even movement of his fingers, and when he felt his own eminent ending, took a beat to encourage you, “Sweetheart, please? Let go for me, yea? Wanna- shit- wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Language like that would have made you embarrassed before but coming from Eddie’s sweet, sweet mouth it set you aflame, “Eddie! Yes! Yes, baby!” Your ruinous release arrived with a shout of his name. Going rigid under Eddie as he rocked into you, his palm pressed to the center of your chest, right over your heart, and then he shuddered above you, his forehead coming to rest against your own as you both fought to catch your breath.

But then Eddie pushed away, abruptly, the overflowing spend of his ecstasy wetting your thighs. It left a cold and empty gap between you when he turned his back to you, his shoulders hunched. Sitting up, you moved to Eddie’s side, “Eddie? Are you- are you ok?” There was no answer, so you crawled to his side, but he avoided looking at you, so you draped a hand on his meaty quad, squeezing slightly, as you asked, “Babe, what’s going on?” Kneeling on the bed in front of the man who just gave you two delicious orgasms, you were utterly shocked at the sight that met you; Eddie, skin shiny from sweat, sitting cross legged, was biting into his knuckle. It was the reason which broke you. He was crying. Tough, beautiful, Eddie Munson was crying. Sobbing really, and to stifle the sound, his teeth were gouging into the flesh of his finger. Once more he tried to avoid you, but you were quick to pull his arm down, “Eddie, what happened?” “I-” his voice was thick, embarrassed and full of emotion, “-I’ve never- What we just did, I-” When you realized that he couldn’t get the words out, you took his hands in yours, kissing over the pulse point of each wrist, “Imma need you to take a deep breath, babe. There ya go!” And you praised him when he inhaled brokenly. Puffing out his cheeks on the exhale, he allowed your clever fingers to wipe away his tears, apologizing, “I’m so sorry. So sorry, sweetheart.” “For what? Where’s this coming from?” “For being a big baby, now, after we just-” damp and wet cheeked, his pretty brown eyes found yours in the dim, “-after we made love.”

“Oh, Eddie.” Your hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into the warmth he found there, sighing. For the first time in your relationship, you were able to offer Eddie the sort of comfort and care that he had shown you so many times. Wasting no time, you straddled his lap, wrapping him in a hug. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, “I just- I’ve never had anyone love me. Not like this and-” You silenced him with your lips, your tongue prying into his mouth, drinking the sadness from the source. All of your want, all of your love, all of it went into the kiss you laid on Eddie. When you leaned back far enough to stare at your man, you were met with his earnest expression, still raw and real.

Your forehead nudged into his, a half-smile playing on your lips, “Hey.” “Hey.” Still sounding sad, Eddie let a chuckle burst out of him, but you found it endearing, encouraging. Eddie let his hands find a place on the thick meat of your tush, keeping you close as you nuzzled into his neck, “I love you, Eddie. All of you. And for so many reasons.” “Yea?” He sounded like he still couldn’t believe it. That this was all too good to be true. Pulling back on his hair, he hissed but didn’t try to stop you. “Yea, Eddie. Yea, I do. I fucking love you.” Then he was laughing. A joyful, open, happy sound that brightened the room and made you smile wide. Eddie lightly slapped your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he licked open mouth kisses along the top of your chest, leaving red marks along the way. Laughing too, you basked in the bubble of love that the two of you were creating. Dragging you to his side, your head rested against his chest, over your special spot. His heart was thumping, steady and strong, already lulling you to sleep, when you tipped your head up, “Merry Christmas, Eddie.” “Uh, Merry Christmas.” And what happened next, well in Hawkins, they say, that Eddie Munson’s small heart grew three sizes that day. On Christmas morning, Eddie cooked you breakfast, and made sure there was plenty of fresh coffee for Uncle Wayne to come home to. After the dishes were washed, you pulled his gift out of your snow stained bag, “This is for you.” “Aw, baby! You didn’t have to do this.” Shifting your weight, you nervously danced, “I know! But, well… OPEN IT!” The paper tore away quickly, revealing a framed photo of the two of you sitting on lounge chairs at Steve’s house, happiness visible on both of your faces. When he looked at the picture it was painfully obvious; you were in love even then. It was clear from the way you leaned into each other, your head resting right over his heart, exactly where it belonged. All you needed to make that love a reality was a Christmas miracle, but those only come around once a year. A lump rose in Eddie’s throat. Maybe there was something to this holiday after all. Something about love and caring and showing people how much they meant to you. Maybe it wasn’t about the cost of gifts or the wrapping paper; the ornaments or the parties. Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad. Not if it brought you two together, once and for all. Shit. Steve had been right. Eddie was going to have to thank his friend for the motivational speech. When he saw your expectant look, Eddie cleared his throat, declaring, “I love it. Thank you, so so much.” Extending his hand, you took it, letting him settle you in his lap, humming, “And I love you, so so much.” When Wayne came home, you were curled in Eddie’s lap, his arm holding you close. Both of you were sleeping peacefully, the tv playing a repeat of the holiday parade. He shook his head, happy in his heart. Merry Christmas, indeed. —------FIN—-----

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steveisagay · 1 year

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Billy's Big Decision

Metalsandwich/harringroveson

Summary: Billy shaves his hair and it marks one of the few decisions he's made for himself

Warings: swearing (duh), Billy also really loves makeup, negative self talk, his abuse, heavy mention of Billy's mom, the f slur

Billy doesn't truly remember anything. Well, he remembers Neil's abuse, he remembers the Mind Flayer, he remembers getting the whole thing explained to him, he remembers that Neil lost custody for child abuse, and he remembers Hopper legally adopting him. But he doesn't remember much from tonight. He remembers flashbacks of abuse, of how it felt to have his body hijacked. He remembers the tears burning down his face, down his cheeks and onto his hands and his mattress. He remembers walking into the bathroom, terrified and disgusted at what he saw. He saw a boy man that was beat, a faggot, worthless, good for nothing but another toy for horny mothers. He saw the mass of hair that was comparable to a lion's mane. The same hair that had attracted so many. The same hair that got him flirted with on the job. The same hair that was responsible for him ever leaving for that motel.

He knows he started sobbing, possibly even screaming, although probably not because he didn't wake anyone. He still had self-control, he knew this because he punched the counter, not the mirror. His blue eyes were surrounded by red, but that was it. That was all he really remembered.

He wasn't aware of anything leading up to that moment. The moment that froze him, the moment that reminded him he really was broken. He destroyed his best quality, he destroyed himself.

The buzzing in his hand only clicked once he realized how disheveled he looked. How bits and pieces were missing to make him look like he really was beat half-to-death. He shaved off almost all his hair. It itched as his skin where shame burned underneath. He couldn't tell who was in the mirror. Hair was stuck into his neck, into his shoulders, under his shirt and all over the floor. How bits and pieces were missing to make him look like he really was beat half-to-death. He shaved off almost all his hair. It itched as his skin where shame burned underneath. He couldn't tell who was in the mirror. Countless thoughts raced through his head. That no one would want him, that his boyfriends wouldn't want him, that he would be so ugly that not even Joyce would want him in her house anymore.

He called the only people he could. If he told Joyce and Hop without being prepared they'd hate him for sure. He didn't wanna wake up Jonathan cause he had things to do tomorrow. And he'd never want to worry the kids with his problems. He called his boyfriends.

Before Steve could even say anything he heard Billy's broken voice on the other line. "Stevie..?"

"Billy, Billy baby, what's wrong? Do you need me? Are you okay?" He quickly became panicked from the audible sobs on the other side. "Are you hurt?"

Steve swears he hears a 'no' and a 'please come over', but underneath that where sobs and hyperventilating breaths.

"It's gonna be okay B, I'll be over in five," he never wanted to hear his boyfriend sounding so hurt and scared. But there was wave of relief when he realized that this meant he was reaching out to him. "Do you want me to pick up Eddie?"

"Yeah," At least he was coherent now. Steve said a quick 'I love you' and almost tore the door off it's hinges and could barely get his key in the door. He sped over to Eddie's trailer, not bothering to knock when he got there.

He yelled out his name as he went straight to his room. "Why the hell are you here?"

"It's Billy, something's wrong." With that Eddie sat straight up, panic painting his face, quickly grabbing a pair of ripped jeans and his vest.

"Alright let's go." He said quickly, rushing through the trailer. "Steve what're you waiting for?! Our baby needs us and you're just standing there?!?"

"Yeah yeah, I just didn't expect you to be so fast."

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

Billy got himself off the bathroom floor after awhile. Grabbing the counter when he heard loud knocks. He opened the door, immediately being pulled into a hug by both of the other men. His tears started to soak Eddie's shirt right away. Mixxed with all sorts of emotions when Steve reached out to stroke he hair. He pulled back when he felt that most of it was buzzed.

"Who did this?" Steve asked, he seemed angry.

"I did," he paused letting the tears start to fall again, "I got upset and then..." He started shaking again as the two ushered him into the house, and to the bathroom. "I'm sorry, I-I ruined it, it's all my fault,"

"Baby, it is not your fault, if we wanna blame anyone, we can blame your shit dad." Eddie grabbed his face, "We can fix this."

"How?" Billy sounded desperate, "It's not like we can just put it back on..."

Eddie smiled looking into his eyes, grabbing the razor still covered in hair, "No, but we can still fix it."

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

Steve had started sweeping the floor while Billy was in the shower. Meanwhile Eddie was preparing only the softest blankets, easy snacks, and grabbing a new set of clothes, including a hoodie from Steve.

Billy felt a sense of relief when he ran his hands over his new buzzcut. He was free. He was a person.

When he got out of the shower Steve had handed him a towell. After drying off he went into his room, Steve following close behind so he could give him cuddles as soon as possible.

Eddie patted the space next to him on the bed and slightly moved some of the blankets. "Hey Eds?" Billy said quietly, still shaken from before.

"Yeah baby, what's up?" Eddie replied as the blond sat down in his arms, leaving room for Steve on the other side.

"Can you do my eyeliner?" He was still shaking. When he was ten, his mother would do her makeup all the time. The first time Neil ever referred to him as a faggot was when he tried on his mother's makeup for the first time. He looked like a mess, but whenever his mother put on makeup she looked pretty. His mother always said he looked pretty, his dad hated that. When he turned 12 he stole borrowed his first eyeliner. It was one of the few choices he'd made specifically for himself. It felt freeing. One day he went out to meet up with Argyle, eyeliner on, and his dad found out. He beat him and yelled at him for what seemed like hours. He didn't know exactly how bad it was to be a faggot until he was sore for the next two weeks. Since then he's collected various types of makeup, it comforts him to be pretty.

"Of course I can," Eddie reached over to the small table next to his bed where the small black stick was out. He popped off the cap and adjusted himself so he could properly apply it. He didn't do his own eyeliner that often, every once in a blue moon. But he did get practice with Billy. He watched out for if his eyelids started to flicker. Steve wrapped his arms around Billy as he pressed kisses to his neck and made sure to give him all the admiration he had.

"You're so pretty Billy," a kiss, "I love you so much," another kiss, "I am so proud of you B," he rubbed his hands up his sides, "so proud for making your own decisions."

Billy spoke without looking at him, as to not throw off Eddie, "Really?"

He could practically hear his smile, "Of course baby, you made a decision for yourself, not me, or Eddie, or your dad," he pressed another kiss to his neck, "you did it for you, and I am so proud of you."

Eddie nodded along as he finished Billy's liner, "You know what you deserve?"

"Hm?"

"You deserve to wear that cherry lipgloss you love so much." He smirked as he got up to grab the pinkish lipgloss from the blond's dresser.

"No. I only use that on special occasions." Billy said firmly, he loved that gloss, but it was special. It made him feel pretty, beautiful.

"But it is a special occasion." He pressed a kiss to his lips, then down his jaw. Then he brought his face back up, "You made an important step in being your own person."

Before Billy could get another word out the wand was being dragged along his lips. Steve continued his words of affirmation behind him. He felt pretty, he felt like himself. With him and his boyfriends, who loved him. Where it was natural to love him.

After Eddie was satisfied with the amount of gloss on his boyfriend's lips he quickly pressed another kiss to his lips.

"I'm pretty sure this is my favorite gloss too."

Steve grabbed at Billy's jaw so he could face him as well, stealing a kiss too. "I'd have to agree. Also we have the prettiest boyfriend in the world."

"Yeah, I mean with his hair buzzed I'd go as far to say he's the hottest in the world." Eddie added.

"Oh yeah," Steve agreed, "hes schmoking hot."

And like that, the three soon fell asleep. Billy's face nuzzled in Eddie's shirt, hand intertwined with Steve's as his head was in the crook of his neck. He didn't mind tonight that he fell asleep with makeup on, nor did he care that it ended up all over his amazing boyfriends.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy stranger things #steve stranger things #eddie munson #metalsandwich #eddie stranger things #harringroveson

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wolfish-trickster · 4 days

Text

Unknown, Uni, Us

University AU

Choso x female!reader

2/?

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: after entering university and taking down your rose tinted glasses you saw how ugly your highschool friends' personalities really were. You even start to think you'll spend the rest of your university life all alone. Little did you know you caught the eye of a quiet goth guy with a reputation. Will your heart be ever able to trust someone, anyone, again?

Warnings: typos, angst, fluff, slowburn, slow beginings, slightly ooc

Taglist: no one

To your disapointment (and few protests) Stella pulled both you and Choso to the very back of the room where she usually sat with her new friends alomg with other slackers who didn't even bring any notebooks. And since the biochemistry teacher has his age and would most likely combust if he used any muscle of his body a little too much you couldn't hear shit. Not to mention your dear friend giggling and gossiping the entire time. Did she never learn how to whisper?

Even Choso, who you found out is quite responsible, has given up halfway through the class and whispered to you that he can't afford losing this class and went to sit closer to the front to hear better.

"Your new friend is a tad rude," Stella remarked after the class ended.

'Look who's talking,' was itching to fly out of your mouth but you kept it firmly shut. Only this year and then you can let her go. Only the freshmen year and then you can be free.

Luckily you didn't have any more classes for the day. Stella had some labs so she couldn't follow you around and test your patience even more. Or better yet pull you to join her newfound group and forcefully socialize you.

The day was just begining tho. As much as your conscience was telling you to hurry home and study, you on the other hand wanted to regain some inner peace. In other words, you didn't take the tram like usually. Instead you took a walk by the river. You've only ever seen it from the tram window, from up close it looked a little more..... polluted. So much for a romantic walk by the river.

Anyways, you still walked from the pavement down to the rocky shore. Your mind wandered to the early days, the easier days. The days when it took forever for monday to turn into friday and early bedtime was a punishment. Nowadays the weeks fly by so fast it's almost unbelievable and full eight hours of quality sleep is a rare blessing. Even studying used to be easier back then. All it took for you was to read it once or twice but now? Today even with you studying every single day, trying out milion different study methods from various sites, you still feel like you're falling behind.

Just like when you were a child you searched for the most perfect flat rock. Just like back then after finding it you almost didn't want to throw it away since it was the most perfect flat pebble in your eyes and it would be a shame. And just like in the past you made it hop on water with all your might. Nine jumps. Not bad.

Your inner child woke up a bit. The world around you didn't seem so bad anymore. So what that you still have assignments to finish and lab reports to send. This moment is only for taking a break. Breathing in the chill air. Listening to the water hitting the shore. Hearing footsteps in the background. Aproaching. Wha-?

You snapped your eyes open and quickly run behind the nearest bush. A group ran down to the shore. They were all young, boys and girls seemingly in your age, but none of their faces were familiar to you. So they weren't from your school then.

You were wrong.

One tall guy with a hood on turned his face to your hiding spot and you saw a familiar tattoed line across his nose and jet black spiky hair now tied up into two messy space buns crushed under the fabric of his hood. And, was he smiling?

Granted, you've known Choso personaly for only few hours but you don't think you've ever seen him smile at school. Or be surrounded by people. Lo and behold, now he was smiling from ear to ear, cold air painting his cheeks slightly red. With his arms around another guy's shoulders. The same guy slapping his arm away and showing him his tongue like a child. You giggled. Having friends like this. To go to the lake with you and goof of after school. You never had that. You always wanted to have that. Why was life unfair?

With your happy mood gone you were slowly leaving, if it wasn't for Choso's friend pulling down his jacket. And sweater. And pants. What in the-?

In few seconds all 3 guys of the group stripped from their winter clothing, except for their underwear thank god, and raced to the cold river waters. Choso was the slowest one, which gave you the perfect amount of time to gawk at him. Respectfully of course.

You've always known him to wear layers and layers of clothing. One would assume he would be thin as a twig if stripped. But Choso was ripped. He didn't even need to flex his muscles to show off his six pack. You were more than certain those tattoed pectorals could fit into one of your bras, you might even be jealous a little. And his arms... you only got a glimpse of his black nails and metal rings at most this morning but now? Those biceps must be as big as your face, or bigger! Or maybe it was just the optical illusion caused by another tattoo snaking its way up from his forearm along the bicep and ending somewhere on his back. How many of those does he have anyways? 'The perfect amount' your inner slut whispered and you quickly shushed her.

This was no time for thoughts like this. You barely knew the guy and he barely knew you. And don't forget about the rumor going on about him. True, when you spoke to him he seemed like decent enough guy, but no leaf moves without a wind. There has to be some truth to those rumors.

You must've spent too much time in your own head to notice real life around you, because the three girls accompanying the guys walked up to your hiding spot.

Oh crap.

"Hello little stalker," the one with the shortest hair among them greeted you.

You forgot how to speak. How in the world are you ever going to explain this to them? 'Sorry for checking out and thirsting after your most likely boyfriends, especially the extremely hot goth one who I accidentally befriended this morning and have felt his gentle touch on my back ever since the start of a biochemistry class.' Yeah right.

"I wasn't stalking, I was just-" yup, nothing reasonable coming to mind. "I was just leaving, sorry," you said as you straightened up from behind the bush and turned to leave.

The girls muttered behind you 'huh, what a weird girl' and other stuff you've already heard plenty of times.

"Hey, Y/N?" you heard behind your back. It was Choso yelling out to you from the freezing water.

You turned around and got a closer look at him. His hair was now wet and slicked back. "So it is you. What are you doing here?"

Everyone from the group looked between you and him with surprise and confusion all over their faces. None of them apparently expected Choso to know the river stalker, as they most likely call you now in their heads.

"I was just taking a walk after school," you yelled back, "and you?" escaped your mouth before you could stop and you immediately cringed. How many times did you say 'thanks you too' in restaurants when they told you bon apetit and yet you still didn't learn from that.

"We are knitting a sweater!" yelled out an excited guy with pink hair and an undercut. The same guy Choso hugged earlier.

"Yeah, real fashionable," one of the girls rolled her eyes.

"You know eachother?" asked another girl, the one that greeted you earlier.

You nodded. In the background Choso climbed out of the river and you got another glimpse of him in just his underwear. Heat rushed into your face and you quickly looked away.

"Yeah," he said as he walked closer with a towel over his shoulders, "we just met this morning."

You nodded again and kept avoiding his gaze.

"Aaaaw, that's so sweet Choco. I told you you'll find a friend! Basically at the end of the semester but still! Better late than never!" one of the girls cooed.

"Nobara please stop calling me that," Choso rolled his eyes.

Nobara shook her head. "Nuh uh."

Choso sighed. "By the way, did you manage to take any notes during that class? You could've stood up and sit closer to the front with me, you know."

Your heart sped up. Why tho? He only asked if you heard enough to make notes. It's not like he asked you to go sit somewhere private with him. Stop thinking everything's about you!

You gulped down all the self hating thoughts. "Yeah, i shushed Stella sometimes when the professor talked about something i never heard of but otherwise i didn't need to write down anything."

"You mean you remember everything the old guy was saying?"

"Not quite. I already studied this subject in highschool so very few things were new to me. Probably the reason why Stella wasn't paying attention either. We went to the same highschool," you explained.

"That must've been some pretty fancy highschool you went to," another girl praised, "I took a look at Choso's biochemistry notes and even I had trouble understanding."

Meanwhile the rest of the guys went out the river and were warming up on the shore.

"Kinda sad for a medical sophomore," a white haired guy commented.

"Didn't she get in by cheating?" asked the pink haired guy? "Geto said he never saw her study for the entrance exams."

"Hearsay," the medical sophomore said and fished out a cigarette from her pocket.

You observed their group a little more closely this time. Three guys if you don't count Choso. And three girls. You already got the name Nobara. The rest is a mystery.

"It's not that difficult, just memorizing mostly," you tried to downplay the medical girl's praise.

Choso groaned. "Well that's just perfect. I'll never pass it," he crossed his arms.

A white haired guy who already got dressed and, for some reason, put on extremely dark sunglasses smirked. He walked up to you. "Hey sweetie, Y/N right? Can I humbly ask for tutoring our dear Choso over here? Look at him," he poked his dark eyebags ro which Chosos tried to slap his hand away with annoyance, "one more sleepless night of studying and the poor guy will combust!"

Another guy with longer black hair in half up bun joined in. "That's true. Who will then take care of poor Yuji and Sukuna?"

"Fuck that bastard," white haired guy deadpaned.

"G-gojo," the pink haired gasped.

"Not you, not you!" The white haired panicked. "I meant your dear twin! You're a pure angel!"

"*cough* lies *cough*," Nobara said with a fake cough.

You chuckled at shenanigans unfolding infront of you. They must be a pretty closed knit group to tease eachother like this.

"So what do you say? Help our buddy out?" Asked the one apparently named Gojo and made a pretty poor attempt at puppy eyes behind his shades.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," said Choso as you were about to give your answer.

You wanted to say yes. Studying in groups have helped you a lot in the past, even though only one person was ever kind enough to study with you. That excitement that was bubbling inside of you after Gojo mentioned studying with Choso was quickly dying down because of Choso's comment. Why would he say that? You thought you got along well, even more he was desperate to pass. And coming from the medical girl he didn't have any friends in university other than you to help him. The fact that he was saying 'you don't have to' was basically him gently telling you he doesn't want to study with you. That he'd rather fail than spend more time with you. Where did you go wrong again? You thought it was starting out well, wasn't it?

After few seconds of more overthinking you politely smiled. "I'll have to think about it. Besides biochemistry we have lots of other classes I'll need to study for. I'm sorry."

"I can help you with those," Choso said and confused you even more.

Didn't he just basically softly reject you few seconds ago? And now he's basically suggesting you two to study anyways? Helping eachother out? Together? Huh?

"Oh, well, uhm," you stuttered and half up bun guy leaned in to whisper into Choso's ear. "I think you broke the poor girl."

"No," you defended yourself and hoped they wouldn't notice your burning face. "Just caught me off guard. No one has ever suggested helping me study before. It was always me doing the helping...." you looked away sadly and tried real hard not to let some deeply hidden memories floating to the surface.

Medical girl finished smoking her cigarette. "It's settled then. You can study at my appartment when both of you got time, since it's closer to your school. I'll stay at Torahime's over the next week anyways. At least someone will take care of my plants."

"That won't be-"

"But!" Medical girl interrupted Choso's complaint. "Wrap it Cho. I don't want to study embryology in 3D," she winked at him.

Choso's whole face turned pink. "Nothing like that will happen!" He defended himself pretty agressively. More than you expected to be honest.

"Yeah. What he said!" You defended your honor just like he did, poorly but still.

Only then did Choso start shivering. He was the last one with just a towel on. "I guess i better go dress."

"Yeah, i should go too. I still need to write some lab reports," you chuckled as you felt all your responsibilities start crushing your shoulders again.

"Alright. Good luck with that. See you tomorrow!" He waved his goodbye just like the rest of his group.

As you were waiting for your tram your mind kept repeating all the events from today. A cute goth guy with tons of mystery befriending you. Sitting next to you in class. Seeing him without his clothes. Meeting his (most likely) only friends. Him maybe wanting to study with you, even though your overthinking sometimes suggests otherwise. Possibly gaining a new friend.

And who could've ever though that all this could come from just one missed email?

#choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo angst #choso fluff #choso angst #slowburn #jjk choso #jjk choso kamo

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themotherofblood · 2 years

Text

Draw Stars Around My Scars

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Tears of Gold Au

A/N: Cersei ain’t gonna like this one.

“Lion, let go at once. You are going to rip the lace, my love.” You scowled at Lion, who had decided to latch onto the fabrics the designer had brought up to your room. The lady’s chamber was an absolute explosion of fabrics, trousseaus, ribbons and children’s toys. There were atleast six ladies squished in, all aw’ing and gasping at each gown you tried on. When they had come this morning to receive you, you had wanted to be swallowed whole by your bed, groaning in your husband’s arms as he wallowed in your misery, chuckling as you pulled yourself out of bed.

The preparations for the feast was headed in a full flight ahead, the cooks brought cake and food for you to try, some of which you would take to your husband and literally had to feed it to him because he was too “busy” with his work. I guess running a kingdom does have its toll. It wasn’t all butterflies and dragons, love stories and babies. It was ugly, and brutal and manipulative. Since your pregnancy, Tywin had began to trust you with the matters of the crown, though sometimes he was vague, sometimes he needed you to understand things throughly.

Which had led to you befriending Margery, the girl wasn’t awful and you quite enjoyed lady Olenna’s company. You knew there was a motive, there always is. Margery is smart, she is aware of the absolute idiot she is marrying and she has comes to terms with it. Over a cup of wine a few days ago, you’d sat at the hearth with your husband, speaking of what comes after the Royal wedding

“I hear you have been around with lady Margery a bit.” Your husband quirked a brow at you

“She and I have similar interests.” You shrugged not sure if you were being interrogated

“Cersei is right I think, she is manipulating Joffrey.” You say while your eyes were focused on Lion, who was dead asleep with his belly up on a pillow. “I fear that the behaviour in Joffrey that we have been trying to rectify, she might be enabling it.” You knew with your husband around, there could only be so much damage done by Joffrey, but what of when your husband is gone. What kind of doom will the boy king present the kingdoms with.

“Atleast she can make something of that boy.” Tywin scoffed “She is of no consequence to the family, with time she too will be a Lannister.” A little boastful but you agreed with him. “How is the charitable work been holding up.” He did not think much of the work you and Margery did but he could use it to his advantage.

“Quite well actually, though Margery has placed all the credit in Joffrey’s lap.” You scoffed “ I um..”

You trailed off not wanting to admit it but your husband cocked his brow at your to go on. “Her intentions aren’t genuine. Even a blind man could spot it, the only thing that stands between them and riches, is us.” Tywin slightly smirked at you referring yourself as a Lannister, clearly you had begun to play the game too, and he was going to make sure his family triumphs.

You could see the gears in your husband’s head turning and immediately caught hold of his hand. “Not another family, please. There are other ways.” He bit his inner cheek, quickly picking onto what you were referring to. Another family did not need to die, just not procreate. “You could name Ser Loras to the Kingsgaurd.”

Tywin nodded in agreement. You were learning, you had your claws and your incomparable wit, he could see you treading through the waters of King’s Landing with ease. Nothing boasted him up more than someone in his family having more than half a brain, it’s a quality his daughter tries to possess but fails miserably due to her inability to look at the bigger picture.

“Cersei would love that.” Your husband said before getting up and answering the knocks at your door.

You were pulled from you thoughts as a deep bellied laugh came from Tyeon, both boys could sit up by themselves now and crawl around. The last six months had been rather chaotic, the spoils of war and royal events pilling up one after the other had the entirety of the court rather preoccupied. While you had your horde of nurses and handmaidens, you refused to let them do all the work, they were your children. They fed at your breast and calmed down to your voice. That is a partial lie, it was mostly their father that manage to calm them down.

Lion was rather taken with both his brothers, you would often find the feline curled in their cribs or following both boys around as the crawled, apparently Lion had swatted Jamie in the face with his tail, which Tyeon found rather amusing. You didn’t mind the noise, or the fuss that decorated your quarters. You did however mind the shitload of pins that held this King’s Landing hairdo up. It made your head hurt.

Ladies laughed and gossiped, dining away on cheese or fawning at your children and the cat. Whereas you were trust up straight as fabrics were held against your skin, you own mind muffled in the commotion of it all. A tighter corset, higher shoes. Your hair, you hated what they did with your hair. You head nearly pounded at it all and Fredrick stood there looking rather amused as you scowled at him. The gods however answered your prayers as your husband walked into your shared quarters, looking rather annoyed at the commotion. All the noise in your room died down, untill it was only your children babbling about. Lion ran up to Tywin, rubbing against his legs and meowing. Your saviour.

“Ladies, if you may.” Tywin said ever so charmingly, gesturing towards the door. A group of ladies all poured out, whispering and giggling as Fedrick escorted them all out. You huffed, pulling the half tied dress of your body, that thing was stupidly extravagant and just not you and you hair.

Tywin looked a little amused but sympathetic at your annoyed and pouting face as you sat down, pulling Jamie on your lap. Wiping all the spit around his face. Your husband looked at you hair, and then to you. He was about to open his mouth, but you raised a finger to stop him. He went on nonetheless

“This is my daughter’s doing, I believe.” You nodded taking out the two little braids that rested on either side of your neck, you had no idea how you were going to undo the rest. Huffing as you struggled to take the pins out and giving up.

“I love you, husband. But if it is demanded of me to do my hair like so, I will run.” You gave him a look that mimicked one of person who’d seen a ghost.

He chuckled lightly, holding his hand out for you take and led you to the dressing table and sat you down. He smiled in reminisce as his fingers gently pulled pins out of your hair, undoing the tiny braids and repeating the process. You looked at him confused, as to how he was able to do this with such ease, and Tywin spoke up.

“When I had first come to the Landing, with um- Joanna. Her handmaidens would often put her in such an outlandish pieces, I spent many nights getting an earful as I tried to undo the damage.” He said with small smile on his face, and you slightly giggled. You couldn’t imagine Tywin Lannister taking a scolding from anyone, though you were happy that he was talking about his first wife without any tension. You were grateful.

“I don’t see how any woman can deal with such torture.” You sighed has the last pin came out and your husband undid the last braid, you pushed your head back to rest against his torso, looking up at him tiredly. You were quite ready to leave for Castley Rock, being a mother suited you but exhausted the life out of you.

Tywin gently untied the tightly wound corset on your back, a deep sigh left you as you lungs could finally inflate to it’s full size. He saw so much of his late wife in you, your compassion, how protective you were, over your children and how tolerant you were. However you were young and it was taxing on you brushed through your hair, watching from the mirror as your husband effortlessly picked his sons up. Jamie dead asleep while Tyeon’s big green eyes stared up at his father, Tywin’s lips held a small smile as he walked over to their cribs to place them down, it was time for their afternoon naps and clearly their mother could use one too.

You had crawled onto bed, almost immediately sprawling out and a small squeak leaving your mouth as you stretched out. Hands reaching upwards to untie the strings that held the bed curtains up, pulling on them to draw the sheer red curtains forward, providing a much needed ambiance to sleep, a small yawn fell past your lips making your eyes water. You sat in the middle of the bed on your knees, looking at your husband who was rocking both boys in their bassinets. You cleared you throat to grab his attention, you were not sure if he would spend the afternoon with you. You wanted him to.

“Patience, my lady.” Tywin called out as fingers popped open the buttons on his coat, leaving him in his undershirt and trousers as he got in the bed with you. He wasn’t going to be staying, he would stay until you fell asleep and that was a fair bargain. You waited until he was flat on his back, one arm held outwards for you to settle in, you happily flopped onto him, head rested on his broad chest and a leg hoisted over his. His hand curled around your shoulders as the other found it’s way to your thigh, a satisfied hum in unison left the both of you.

It had been a while since you shared a bed together, most nights with Tywin working late. You would sleep in your lady’s chambers with Jamie and Tyeon, so that when Tywin returned he wouldn’t wake the babies up. There were nights were he would walk in, exhausted; to peer at your sleeping form and his sons before retiring in his own bed alone. Other than sharing meals a few times a week, or when he would find you in the nursery. There wasn’t much time spent together in the last few months.

Your fingers mindlessly trailed on the skin that peaked through his partly unbuttoned shirt, a few scars that decorated his chest also peaked through as you gently traced over them. A few fresh one’s from the Blackwater, seemed to have healed completely. His fingers traced shapes on your thigh, specifically a few scars the littered itself on the top of the flesh.

“How did you get these?” His voice quiet and relaxed

“Fell off of trees. Multiple times.” Your husband moved his head to look down at you, as you shrugged at him sheepishly.

He moved your hand further down his torso and under his shirt to feel a scar right by his pelvic bone. “So have I.” Clearly a much older scar but it was new information to you.

“It’s quieter up there.” You hummed in agreement, your body growing tired as it moulded further into his. Tywin’s voice held some sort of magic, nightshade was worthless compared to the tone of his voice. Many nights he would lull you or your children by just speaking, another yawn pushed past you as your husband held onto you tighter. He could feel you slipping into the world of slumber as your breathing evened out. He shut his eyes for a moment too, hoping to just revel in the warmth of your body, but his exhaustion consumed him too as he passed out next to you.

A royal handmaiden had made her way into the Hand’s chambers, with a dress for Lady Y/N for the tournament tomorrow. As she padded her way quietly into the silent chambers, she walked to the chaise to place the dress on. She made sure to be quiet, as this time was known for the little lords and you to be resting. Her eyes fell upon the bed, where she expected the Lannister lady wife to be asleep on, until a small gasp left her as she saw Lord Tywin and his Lady Y/N wrapped in each others arms. She gathered her skirts and tiptoed her way out of the Hand’s chambers, excited as surely such news would have her rewarded by the Queen.

next chapter

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v-era-18 · 7 months

Text

HoneyBee

Chapter Two: Chased or Chase

‘Why continue to chase after someone when they deserve the moon, and you simply can’t give it to them,’- Sam Witwicky

Tonight was perfect.

Not only was (Y/n) able to warm up her meal from ‘Honey’s Waffles’ without ruining the quality, but she was able to watch her favorite movie before falling asleep. The covers were warm, along with the hand sewn quilt her grandmother made her in the ninth grade. The stars were hand stitched, along with her favorite constellations.

It was beautiful, in the far right square at the very bottom was a stitched planet from her family's stories her grandfather told. She still remembers the tears she shed that night on her birthday, Sam’s laughter at how ugly her face scrunched up as fat tears rolled down. It was one of the memories she cherished the most, things were so simple back then, but here they were last year of highschool and college acceptance letters littered her simi neat desk.

She rolled over, snuggling into the bear on the other side of the bed as she thought about the handsome boy from earlier. The girl bit her lip as a giggle bubbled up behind her lips as she tried to keep the feeling at bay. He was a stranger, and yet he left her feeling like she was the only one in the world at that moment. She could still feel the lips that whispered against her ear at the soft promise to see her again.

(Y/n) will admit, she's looking forward to the possibility of the boy walking through the large doors of her family's library. It was another one of her pride that she did not take lightly, and sharing it with someone she saw as a romantic interest was something she most definitely wanted to share. She rarely had crushes of course, she spent so much time on school work and stories to really experience dating and here she was, imagining scenarios of her reading him her favorite book as they snuggled on the couch.

Her mind wandered back to the illusion episode she had in the car, it came out of nowhere but left her hot and heavy. The hands seemed to know where to go on her body as if they'd done it so many times before

A yawn escaped her plump lips getting comfortable underneath the warm blankets, now all she had to do was get a few more hours of sleep before-,

Her phone started to go off, the ringtone blaring to life with the three women's voices taking over singing ‘Soldier’. A groan left her lips as she slugged her arm over to grab the phone from the nightstand. The screen blinded her as the contact read ‘Lord Witwicky >:(‘ appeared with three text messages.

With a sigh (Y/n) answered, praying he wasn’t calling her to tell her about a dream he had about Mikaela.

“Yes Sam-”

“(Y-Y/n)! I need you to bike down to the end of your block right now! M-My car is being stolen-they're about to pass your street!” Sam's breathing sounded panicked and out of breath, he let out a yelp as the phone shuffled a bit.

“Whoa-wait that doesn't make any sense?!,” She was already putting on her shoes, forgetting the shorts and tank she had on before dashing outside to her black bike, “Why did you call me-Call the police!”

“I did! You try to speak to the police-when you can barely breath! It's been so long since I've biked this much I’m out of shape,”

She biked down to the end of her street and sure enough the black and yellow camaro drove full speed ahead, deciding to follow she made a full dash behind them. The windows were oddly tinted from what she could tell but it didn't make sense due to the fact they were not the few times she was in the car.

Sam soon caught up with her, their speed wasn’t as fast as the vehicle ,but they were able to keep on its tail the whole entire time. Her breathing was labored as they passed many streets in pursuit of the speeding vehicle, it was a miracle for the robber that the streets were clear this time of night. It wasn’t long before the pursuit led them onto private property, the car rammed right through the gate without mercy.

(Y/n) stopped as Sam kept biking on through the gate, “Sam! This is private property!”

The boy didn't seem to hear her as he was more focused on retrieving his car. Sam's form disappeared behind the corner of the building , the girl groaned in frustration and followed against her better judgment. She soon caught up with her friend on foot leaving her bike where he left his.

“Sam we have to leave-”

Sam covered her mouth, pointing up at the large emerging figure in front of the powerplant. (Y/n) looked up at the sight before her in great fascination. The robot's form was one to take a gander at. From the clear Chevrolet bust to the wings on the back being the doors. A quirk of a smile made way on her face at the sight before her

Sam ducked down and began recording on his phone, “Hello, My name is Sam Witwicky! I am here with my best friend (Y/n) (L/n)-who ever finds this my car is alive-okay,” He held up the phone to the robot, accidently getting (Y/n)’s curious expression in the process, “I-If this is my last words-I just wanted to say, Mom-Dad I love you and if you find ‘Busties Beauties’ under my bed it wasn’t mine! I'm holding it for Miles! No-no-wait that's not true it's mine-Miles gave it to me I'm sorry! Mojo, I love you.``

Sam hug up the phone and slowly picked himself up from the ground, He grabbed (Y/n) pulling her along from the massive robot shining the light into the night.

Her gaze never left the figure, something inside of her tugged her soul back towards the massive being. The same being from the stories her grandfather told her about each night. It was different from what she'd imagined, but she wasn't disappointed-not one bit. (Y/n) heard they came in a variety of many shapes and sizes, just like humans only their forms were more mechanical and they could live for ages in comparison.

The girl turned her excited gaze back to Sam,“What do you think it was? Pops told me stories about this-” She was cut off with the boy silencing her, it took a moment before she heard it, the low growl of a predator.

The two teens moved slowly, watching the dogs carefully looking for a means of escape; Unfortunately, (Y/n) wasn’t one to dwell with danger, in fact her first response was to run from it. Sam was hot on her heels, the growls of the two dogs growing near with each turn the two took. The two teens jumped and dodge obstacles in the wake, trying to escape the threatening jaws of punishment.

“H-hey! Good Dog! Good Dog-!”

“Shut up Sam! And Run!”

They both ended up in a dead end, both fending for themselves on a large crate to escape the large jaws of disapproval. One ended up biting the girl's shoe, leading to her yelling in panic, Sam tried to grab a hold of her before she could fall. Before the black dog could jump and attack again, the black and yellow car crashed through just in time, Sam never looked more scared in his life as the vehicle circled them drawing away the dogs from earlier.

“H-hey! Please-Please don't kill us! I'm sorry! Here's the keys-you can have em’! Cars all yours!” Sam threw the keys at the car, pulling (Y/n) along with him outside.

(Y/n) froze once the cop car pulled up in front of them, Sam was relieved rushing up to them in panic, “Woah-woah-listen-listen-listen!Good your here!-”

“Let me see your hands!” Both officers immediately pulled both firearms pointing at the two of them, the girl felt bile in her throat, and immediately placed her hands up walking over in compliance.

“Wait-no no no-what you mean? The guys inside-?!”

“Shut up! Put your hands behind your head, and put your head on the hood.” Both of them complied, Sam looked over at his friend noticing her expression. (Y/n)’s eyes were filled with tears, a bitter snarl on her lips as she was handcuffed first beside him. He immediately regretted calling her tonight.

~✯~

The car ride was tense between the two teens as Ron drove (Y/n) home. Their time at the police office was surely interesting, the two cops never let up on her, not once. She's been many things in her life, but never had she been called a drug addict and a thug.

It hurt, it hurt so bad and she never knew those two men in her life. It was the fact it took Sam asking, ‘Why are you guys only questioning her? I'm the one who called!’ for them to finally let up on their verbal abuse. She was so tired and worn out. It left a mental strain to know she actually went to jail, and was arrested for simply trying to help.

Sam shifted awkwardly in his seat, “(Y/n), I’m sorry-”

“Save it,” Her tone was bitter and hurt, a struggled breath left her in trying hard not to cry, “Out of all things I’ve done for you this is the one thing-the one thing I deeply regret.”

The boy looked at her hurt, “You don't mean that-”

“Sam,” Ron tried to shut his son up.

“No-she doesn't mean that! (Y/n) you always said were in it together-”

“When has there been an us as of late!” The Afro headed girl finally snapped, “Every single time you ask for something it's for your benefit! When have you ever done me a favor-!”

“Plenty of times!”

“Name one Samuel!”

Sam paused for a moment, rethinking the last time he actually offered to help her with something. Ron looked at his son in the corner of his eye in frustration, he knew this would somehow come back to bite his son in the ass. The boy sighed against the seat in frustration.

“I-I’m sorry-I didn't realize that I neglected this part of our friendship-”

“You did the moment you let Miles degrade me and keep him around-over and over-This! This is the tip of the iceberg Sam!,” (Y/n) sighed, “You’d rather have any friend to talk to-and any girl to stare at you and caress you without actually making the steps to build something, without thinking of them in a lewd manner-”

“Hey guys-let's not say anything we might regret-”

“I mean every-fucking-word. I've been nothing but a good friend-not only did I give you the car I wanted-but I helped you with a girl who didn't give two shits about you-who-hell-didn't even know your name till sixteen hours ago and I still corrected her-”

“Mikaela doesn't have to do with anything in regards to the conversation-”

“Of course she doesn't! But everytime shes not around and your with me you have to bring her up twenty four seven-”

“Guys-”

“Oh-oh really? You wanna bring that up? How about we talk about how you basically were talking with a stranger and was basically inviting him to fu-”

Ron smacked his son's head before he could finish, but the damage was done, (Y/n) sat back in the seat , tears seeped her lips as she stared out the window. Sam acknowledged his mistake ,and didn't say another word for the rest of the car ride.

Mr. Witwicky dropped the girl off and watched her sad figure walk inside the house, he looked back at Sam, a deep frown placed on his face. “Out of everything to say, you allude to her being a prostitute-”

“She was bashing Mikaela-”

“She wasn’t bashing that girl, and you know it!” Mr Witwicky threw his hands to the roof of the vehicle in frustration, “She was pointing out how you take the things you have for granted, especially your friendship. To be honest I thought you'd grow up and be smart and realize that (Y/n) is the one you should be running after, not some chick who messes with jocks and because she looks like a pornstar,”

Sam looked at the door (Y/n) walked through, the lights were on-signaling her Nana was awake, it was no doubt she would be interrogated. He knew his dad didn’t mean to insult Mikaela, so he let it slide; but he still didn’t like how both of them were right. He did have a habit of chasing after girls who focused more on popular guys than schoolwork.

“She’ll never see me that way, she only has stuck around because we’re all we have-“

“Oh so “friends” wake up at 2 o’clock at night, go on a car chase and get arrested for someone because their friends,” The boy's father was deeply disappointed, watching the girl he watched grow along his son wasn’t something to idle by. (Y/n)’s reputation would be described as pure since middle school and on; However, tonight tainted the innocent record that landed her many scholarships.

“Think about all the things she lost, do you honestly want to take away the one thing she wanted to achieve in life?! Her degree in robotics, her minor in creative writing-“

Sam sighed in frustration, his father didn’t even finish he was so heated with the night of events. It was his first time being arrested along with (Y/n), however it didn’t affect him as much since his father was head of the neighborhood watch.

“I-I couldn't see her that way! I chose to see her as a sister-and whenever I entertained that idea it just seemed wrong!” Sam looked at his dad, a pained expression morphed on his face from the night of events, “I know I'm not the one for her Dad, these past few years proved it. Yesterday, I was so jealous at the thought of another guy stealing what we have with each other, then I realized how toxic I would've been-to keep her single while I kept looking for someone else like her.”

Ron frowned slowly realizing what his son was venting. He knew the answer but decided to ask anyway. “Did you fall in love with her and give up?”

Sams face twisted and turned his head out the window once more, the night sky suddenly looked more interesting, “Why continue to chase after someone when they deserve the moon, and you simply can’t give it to them,”

~✯~

The two women were silent as they looked at eachother, it was overwhelming to say the least. (Y/n) had expected to see a belt, her laptop and favorite belongings on full display in front of Nana awaiting her punishment. Instead she wasn't seeing any of that, her grandmother simply sat on the sofa with her hands in her lap staring up at her with worried eyes.

She stood in the living room, tears running down her face, her twists were in a disheveled bun from the night of events and her pajamas were dirty. Her Nana gave her a once over, spotting the scrap on the girl's knee that wasn't banaged. You’d think the girl would have noticed her injury, she guessed the adrenaline as she ran from the dogs made up for it.

A sharp inhale caused (Y/n) to flinch, much to her grandmother's dismay, “You don't have to be so tense, I talked with Ron on the phone. I know it wasn't your fault sweetheart,” The older woman stood up from the sofa and waved a hand gesturing towards the kitchen. “Let's fix you up, then you can tell me your side of the story.”

(Y/n) stood still in the doorway, a sharp needle of anxiety pierced her heart, “You're not mad? Or disappointed-?”

“Not mad, just worried. And the only way I would have been disappointed was if you hadn’t complied when told to-that would have put you in more danger.”

The two of them made their way to the kitchen, the light in the room seemed to calm her down for the most part but she was still unsettled from everything that had happened. She couldn’t forget the words the men had spoken to her in such a derogatory manner. (Y/n) normally would’ve rolled it off her shoulder, but something about tonight hit her like a storm.

‘We get girls like you in this seat all the time, star students by day-druggies by night’

‘Such a shame, we've got nothing but good things about you on file. It seems everyone has a devil inside them-’

‘What do you expect? Their kind is more susceptible to the life of crime anyway. Especially females, they love the rush of a thug being their man-ain’t that right girl?’

The second cop was so racist to a point where she didn't understand. The other one was treating her and Sam to the same treatment where the other was just so discriminatory. She's sure a good bath and drowning herself in movies would help, after all it wasn't like racism didn't exist; everywhere- even on cybertron that's how she learned about the subject anyway-especially with Nana's concerns of her going to middle school not knowing about the subject.

(Y/n) flinched as her grandmother cleaned the cut, she felt like a little girl again watching how she carefully cleaned the cut with peroxide before dabbing on some neosporin. If she wasnt so traumatized she'd be convinced she had just fallen off her bike after learning for the first time. Pop’s carrying her back in the house as she sucked on a popsicle through blurry eyes of frustration.

“You're lucky it was just grazed, nothing too deep,” Her Nana placed a kiss over the band-aid before putting the medical supplies away, “Now do you wanna tell me why you chased after that vehicle?”

The girl let out a shaky breath before starting the disgruntled tale. Her grandmother had fixed herself tea as she listened, sometimes she would interrupt and ask questions; ‘How tinted were the windows?’ ‘Could you see the driver?’ ‘Did the motor sound weird?’. It wasn’t long before she paused mid story when she accidentally spilled that they saw something, Nana gazed at her telling to continue, but her mouth became dry. Her grandmother didn't react well last time when she mentioned the insignia, how was she supposed to tell her about the robot she saw? She could hardly believe it herself from what her own eyes had captured.

“You-you wouldn’t believe me anyway-”

“Try me,” The cup was sat down, the kind gaze never wavering as she looked at her, “Me and your grandfather have seen and experienced many things (Y/n), that many people wouldn't believe unless they've seen it for themselves.”

A nervous laugh erupted from her tired lips, she hardly believed what she said next, “Sam's car turned into a giant robot.” She laughed again, but this time it was sad as tears rolled down.

Then it hit her, whatever it was-the anxiety never left this time instead it boiled. Her mind couldn't take it-she was so tired. The sight that she had seen tonight was the one thing she had wanted to see since she was so young. She promised to help them-to fight alongside them in the war and achieve many victories for their cause. And here she was years later, and she didn't know if she believed it, or if she had simply gone mad after her grandfather died.

Whether it was the lost part of innocence tonight or wishful thinking, she never wanted that escape again more in her life, she missed it. The effortless journals she’d write of going on adventures, fighting, living a life as that character everyone loved and wanted to be. All of it, was it pointless?

“-Sweetheart?”

“I'm going to bed-I-Im sorry for lying, Nana. We only saw the burglars abandon it, nothing more.”

(Y/n) left the kitchen her form shaking and disgruntled, as her Nana sat at the table watching her leave. The older woman sighed, rolling her eyes before getting up and heading towards her room. A liar is not what (Y/n) is, her Nana knew. What emerged from her granddaughter's mouth was nothing but the truth.

Robots-no Cybertronians are a special case.

Their whole family knew the truth except the girl in the other room, sometimes (GM/N) wondered why they never told her the truth before (GD/N) died. Sure, it was best to keep her innocent for a while but after what she saw tonight only means she'll soon be tossed into something she never bargained for.

Nana took the box from the high shelf from the right side of the closet where her late husband stored his belongings. The box was a bit worn and dusty, but the contents were safe. She hugged the box close to her chest and sent a quick prayer.

Afterall, her granddaughter was going to need it.

~✯~

To many teenagers work was a chore they hated to get up and get ready for this time of day, but as far as this aspiring protagonist goes, she loved waking up in the morning and heading to her family's library. With her finals being done in comparison to Sam, she's able to take up earlier shifts than normal. Luckily Grace was willing to switch morning shifts with her this morning much to her pleasure.

It was around nine am giving her enough time to organize the return pile by genre and author. It was a nice ritual to get her mind off of the past few days, don't get her wrong; there were moments she'd mess with the band aid on her knee, or simply sipped her coffee anxiously as a police car drove by the large window. She didn't want to think about that night, and if she did she only wanted to think about one thing; the cybertronian.

It started to feel wrong to call them a robot after all she knew what the species were called. It was no secret to her family about the stories and now-truth be told she started to gain the suspension. They were not just stories. She thought long and hard about how gentle her grandmother was with her yesterday, she kept glancing at her as if she had something to tell her-just don't know how. Not to even mention she sat by the phone expecting Sam to call her-why she didn't know. (Y/n) just wanted the reassurance that they were still friends-family even.

(Y/n) placed the last neat pile over near the horror section, it had been quite popular the past few weeks after they hosted that horror book night last october-it was her idea for a fundraiser and it was highly successful. The only takeaway was hunting people who forget to return them. In the corner of her eye she watched her Nana walk out of the break room with a steaming cup and a cinnamon roll from the bakery next door.

If She had been a bit more considerate of herself this morning she might have gotten one as well, they were nice and soft, the icing smooth and sickenly sweet if eaten too fast. She had to think long and hard about where she was going to eat lunch.

(Y/n) finished her morning ritual in the library with ease, once she was sure everything was in order she was able to help out at the front. Some were familiar faces, others were simply students from other schools returning books required for the curriculum of english. It was all worth it; after the familiar face strolled in her heart began to thump anxiously, whereas her hands were suddenly busy in her coils.

The black haired boy looked around for a moment before locking eyes with her own. It didn't take but a minute before he flashed a smile heading in her direction, the others in the library seemed irrelevant at the moment in comparison to the male who remembered her quick words that day. He looked nice; His shirt was black with vertical white and yellow stripes down his chest, and he wore black jeans with a subtle chain on the hip. His converse were a bit dirty like hers, but in her mind all shoes were meant to be replaced after a while.

“So this is the famous (L/n) library,” Bee smiled brightly, he did another once over causing her heart to warm with his excited eyes, “I’m impressed! You own the place so young?”

She laughed, “No, it's a family business! It’s been here for more than sixty-eight years.”

He whistled low, the charm he had was starting to take effect. She licked her lips nervously as he took a gander at the ceiling, it was a renaissance styled painting with her family's stories. There were many robots stylized to show which were good, evil, and simply trying to survive crossfire. His eyes seemed to land on one figure specifically, a large sword was in the figures hands, they were leaner with a female build with an angular frame. What stood out so much was the male human by her side.

Blue eyes went back on her form, something glimmered for a second before a carefree look took on his features. He paused for a moment, looking behind her, she followed his gaze seeing that Nana was looking at the boy. It was a moment where (Y/n) could see them talking with their eyes, another moment passed before her grandmother smiled, turning to her.

“(Y/n) who is this? A New friend?”

The girl bit her lip looking over at a Bee, he seemed to be awaiting her answer, “Y-yeah, we met at the park last Friday. He was very nice,”

The boy seemed to approve of her answer, “Hello my name is Bee,”

“Hello Bee, Im (Y/n)’s grandmother (G/N), but you can call me Nana,” Nana smiled at her new friend, placing the new stack of history books on the desk to be organized later. “You're actually in luck, my sweetheart is on break! She'd love to hang out with you a bit.”

“What? But-”

“That's great! I'd love to hear more about the paintings above and the histories about them.” The black haired smiled.

Her Nana pushed her from behind the desk quickly, urging her to talk to the boy before them. (Y/n) grabbed her grandfather's notebook from the top counter, this one was the history about the library, in chapter two it gives short summaries about the paintings above. She’d tell her friend about the summary and they tell him what she remembered about the story to the best of her ability.

(Y/n) led Bee to the comfortable part of the library, in the far corner there was a circular table with two arm chairs. It was her favorite spot for breaks. They both sat down, she couldn’t help but notice how the boy felt up and down with the fabric as if it were foreign to him.

“Is it not comfortable?” She questioned quietly with a frown. Bee flinched with her question, planching his hands on his knees.

“No-no it's very comfortable-im just not used to the feeling,” He answered with a bit of nerves in his tone. “I'm sorry if I've offended you-”

“No you haven't, I just wanted to make sure my new friend was comfortable,” She offered a kind smile to ease him of his worries.

She gave him a once over, he did clean up nicely from the last time she saw him, however she couldn’t help but pause at his neck. There was a prominent scare on the right side, she couldn't believe she had never seen it before. If there was one way of describing it, it would be a star that she gazed at each night before going to bed, it rested right near the vocal cords.

“So about the femme-female in the middle, what story do you have for her my dear storyteller?”

(Y/n) actually let out a giggle, “Storyteller? Is that my new nickname?”

Bee hummed, “No you deserve something better, but that's what you do right? You tell amazing stories and draw people in.”

“Well yes, but it's only fun doing it. It's not like it'll be a job for me to do in the near future.”

The boy cocked an eyebrow, which apparently has a slit, “Why not?”

“It simply won’t pay the bills. As an aspiring author or writer you have to be smart, you have to have another area of profession to feed yourself until everything takes off.”

He nodded in understanding, “I see. I wouldn’t rule this out of your life forever. You do such a good job as is,” He scooted the chair closer once the girl flipped through the pages of the book. He seemed more preoccupied with staring at her than the varying pictures. “So what are you gonna read to me today?”

(Y/n) smiled, “The summary of Merlin’s Female knight. I’ll have to get to know you more before I tell you the full tale. These are our family stories.”

“Seems fair,”

The girl inhaled before starting the summary.

“During the dark ages of Merlin, a variety of knights were introduced from the planet Cybertron. With these knights came a new era of acceptance with humans; they fought many wars and formed many alliances. However with the new era the knights acknowledged something needed to be changed with predacons as well. A few of these predacons were highly intelligent femmes pledging their loyalty to the cause. Three knights took the predacons as sparkmates, leading to the next generation. One of these femmes was named-“

(Y/n)s words faltered as she felt Bee's breath on the nape of her neck. She finally took notice of how close he’d gotten. His hand was close to hers, slightly brushing as she flipped the page again. She was reading the words in English, skipping over the cybertronian language she’s grown to learn.

A hand clasped hers urgently, she paused on the page she was about to skip, the pages were filled with the foreign symbols. She looked at him, his mouth was moving as he scanned the page.

‘He can read it?!’

“You can read it? How can you-“

“I-I’m sorry I have to go.” The boy removed his hand from hers, the warmth that enveloped her body was gone; she was so tempted to frown right there. She stormed after him, questions filling her mind with urgency. It’s been so long since she had someone who understood the language other than her grandparents.

“Wha-what? Why? What did I do-?” Bee cut her off by grabbing her hands in his once more. He stared at her, his eyes were worried and deeply struggled to communicate.

“You haven't done anything. (Y/n) I know I haven't done anything to deserve your trust ,but I’m going to need you to trust me,” His frown seemed almost natural on his face as if he was more accustomed to the expression. It spoke volumes to her. “I promise, to explain later sweetspark okay?”

The girl nodded a bit, flustered from the boy using the tongue it took her many years to accomplish. He had her trust by just speaking the language. With the nod of confirmation, he made haste out the front doors. When she tried to watch him leave, he was already gone.

It was two hours after the boy left and oddly enough (Y/n) felt as if a huge weight was lifted off her chest in regards to the events that have happened lately. She could still feel the warmth of his hands against hers as she turned the pages.

It felt as if the hands on their own could tell stories, along with the scar of the left side of his neck. The intimate thoughts she had earlier returned, her lips would graze each scar with sweet whispers; (Y/n) could hear his playful tone teasing her for being so bold, yet so sweet with his battle wounds.

She paused for a minute at the thought-when had she decided the scars came from battle or even a war. Something about her intuition was going off, whether it was the sinking feeling at the thought of him being so young on the front lines, or the fact he had to keep such secrets of his injuries to himself. (Y/n) shook her head before closing the book, deciding it was time to clock out.

Grace had already clocked in thirty minutes ago and was ready to take over. Now all she needed was her book bag and-. A loud commotion of a familiar voice suddenly filled the space of the library much to her dismay, she hoped it wasn't her Nana reminding her not to work overtime and to relax. However, when she turned the corner from one of the isles she was met with an erratic and panicked Witwicky.

“Sam! What the hell is your problem?! This is a library-!” (Y/n) was suddenly embraced by Sam, his form was shaky and he had labored breaths. She didn't get to ask questions about it, as she was already being led outside the library with her bookbag in hand.

“We’re being followed by the car,” Sam spoke quickly, he grabbed her bike from the rack and pushed it towards her. She finally took notice of the fact he was riding his mom's bike, normally she would’ve laughed but at the moment she sunk in the situation at hand.

“Did you just say the car is following us?” The question rolled off her tongue with ease, it sounded excited, no hint of worry in sight. It scared her afterwards with how quick she got happy with the thought of the alien following them.

“Yes-it followed me home! Then when I biked here to get away, it followed me-only it didn’t take the same route, it took a faster one and parked behind the building. It knows where you work!” He hopped on the bike, (Y/n) doing the same quickly with her own, as anxiety rolled down her spine.

The two teens biked down the street quickly, it wasn't long before the sound of a roaring engine sped up right behind them-the game of cat and mouse being reversed from the other day. The girl didn't dare to look back, Sam did enough for the both of them combined. Judging from the way her friend was panting in panic she could only assume the car was close. They both decided to bike through a park, Sam was so focused on his escape from the vehicle to notice the uneven concrete in the midst of their path.

It was a domino effect, Sam flipped himself landing on his back with a pained groan. (Y/n) let out a yelp and tried to swerve the bike in time but ended up losing her balance and falling off. She bit back a whine from the new found scrapes and bruises on her elbow and right knee.

“Sam? (Y/n)?” A familiar voice called out to the two of them. Sam looked to his right to find Mikeala and her friends looking at them. A few were giggling and whispering while looking in (Y/n)’s direction, none of them had ever seen the girl flawed before. The teen always made sure to be poised in all conditions, however seeing the girl fall off her bike nearing tears was something to boost their egos.

“Hi,” He mustered awkwardly with a groan, whereas (Y/n) simply waved a hand clutching her arm.

“Um t-that was uh-that was really…..awesome,” The girl managed to ease up the situation, “Are you two okay?”

“N-no I'm not-alright? I'm losing my mind. My car is chasing us,” Sam bit out straightening his bike. He looked over at (Y/n) taking in her injury, her steps faltered a bit due to the pressure placed on her knee. Sam quickly helped her onto her bike, his hands rested on her hips longer than they should’ve though. “We gotta go.”

Mikaela noticed (Y/n)’s look of anguish for a moment before turning back to her friends, “Hey I'm gonna catch up with you guys later.” About the time the brunet made it to her Vespa the two friends were already on the move once more.

(Y/n)’s balance swayed here and there, her head was throbbing and her elbow hurt to bend. She was lagging behind, the car seemed to notice, as each time it got to close it started to slow down its pace giving her enough time to bike through each light.

Thankfully they finally found a place to stop, (Y/n) led the way underneath the interstate bridges where many cars were parked. She gestured to Sam to follow her, they had found a nice hiding spot for a moment,watching the car speed past. The two friends looked at each other before letting out a breath of relief.

“Are you okay? How's your arm?” Sam gently grabbed the girl's arm, trying to extend it a bit to make sure nothing was broken. (Y/n) winced a bit, fighting back tears, it wasn't that bad, she was sure it'd feel better later.

The silence was soon interrupted by a familiar siren, shaking the girl to her core. Sam on the other hand was relieved, he whispered a soft ‘stay here’ before moving from their hiding spot. Her breathing became labored, the foreign chill of metal on her wrists became a new fear. They couldn’t be arrested again, they couldn't!

“Officer!Listen-” Sam let out a pained yelp as the car door hit him, knocking him off the bike with one fell swoop. (Y/n) gasped, she suddenly forgot how to breath suddenly as she watched her friend wither on the ground.

“Offi-Listen to me! Thank god! My friend and I have had the worst day ever! We've been followed here-on my mothers and her grandmother's bike! Right?! And My cars right there-and it's been following me-us here! so-so get out of the car!” Right after Sam slammed his hands on the police vehicle it started to drive forward, knocking Sam off his feet and onto the ground. “Woah stop-!Okay-Okay!I'm sorry! Im Sorry! I'm sorry I hit your car!”

“Stop!” (Y/n) raced from her hiding spot, she tried to step between Sam and the vehicle. She kicked the hood showing she had enough of the abuse of power displayed. She however paused once the vehicle's headlights popped out, sharp metal sticking out around the lights sending a chill down her body. She soon looked at the side of the car, her body running cold; ‘to punish and enslave’.

“Run. Sam run!” She grabbed her friend, helping him on his feet; it was just in time too, she soon heard the sound of shifting metal behind her. The rise of bile was heavy in her throat as she pushed Sam to run faster.

“Oh Shit! Oh Shit!” Sam screamed as he made a turn through the rubble of trash. “What the hell is that?!”

“A Decepticon! Here on earth?!” The girl cried to herself, she was pretty sure her subconscious mind answered for her. She had never seen a Decepticon in person, but the way the con was chasing them with a threatening aura she was so sure.

Before she could get them to make another turn she felt herself flying through the air before making impact with the windshield of a car. She heard Sam scream her name, only for him to fall on top of her a second later. She made a move to push the boy off only to scream instead once the con pulled out a chainsaw for a hand, slamming it on the side of the car.

Out of all the questions she had running through her mind as to why the con wanted them only one was answered, and it was one of the most threatening ways of answering.

“Are you username Ladiesman217?! And are you Storyteller (Y/n) (L/n)?!”

The two teens looked at eachother frightened, “Yea”

“Where are the glasses! And the books of Luna One!”

#bumblebee x black reader #bumblebee x reader #transformers bayverse #transformers #transformers optimus #transformers x reader #black reader #Spotify

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