#My dude on the left’s name is Drew
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Little scribble comparing mine and @drewmwalker’s Dogdays that came to me in an espresso-fueled warm-up session!
(I adore your art btw, it’s so cool)
#My dude on the left’s name is Drew#and he is SO glad that he uses his student gym membership#also Dogday’s wound may or may not be barely 6 inches from the ground#(Drew is short and his back hurts okay?)#phrart#character design#scribbles#dogday#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#dogday poppy playtime#he’s a big boy#I just watched Pastra’s stream of chapter 3 and I am so much more obsessed now#I love this big traumatized dog#get his ass a hug and a blanket#art#warm up sketch#I’ve done a lot of traditional art#so hopefully I can get those digitized soon#all of it is ppt focused because of course#prepare for my dog-loving insanity/pos
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“Hey.”
Eddie looks up from the inventory sheet he’s bent over (the new shipment of records isn’t going to record itself – Christ, that was awful, Henderson is contagious) to see his coworker Kyle poking his head into the back room.
“Someone left something for you at the counter.”
“Who?” Eddie asks, brows furrowed.
Most everyone in town seems to have let the murder accusations drop (embarrassed enough by their own fanatical reactions that they’d much rather forget the whole thing), but a few people still treat him like a felon walking free; it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.
“Uh, real normie-looking guy. Gives you a ride sometimes.”
Eddie blinks. “Steve?”
“Yeah, sure.” Kyle shrugs. “Says you left it in his car.”
Whatever Eddie is expecting to see when he follows Kyle back out to the front counter of the music shop, a brown bag lunch isn’t it. He most certainly hadn’t left that in Steve’s car this morning.
Steve hadn’t even given him a ride that morning.
But it’s got his name on it, sure enough, in Steve’s weirdly neat handwriting. The asshole even drew a little heart next to it.
Eddie can already feel a smile pulling across his face as he snatches up the bag. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten his lunch in Steve’s car, but he certainly hadn’t brought one in with him. He’d been planning to hit up the McDonald’s down the street if he got desperate, but whatever Steve’s brought him is bound to be better.
“Your girlfriend pack that for you?” Kyle asks.
Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh, for a minute not quite sure how to answer.
Gender assumptions aside, Eddie doesn’t know what to call this thing with Steve – this thing where they’d started screwing and then they’d started falling asleep together without screwing and then they’d started spending all their free time together and now Steve does things like pack Eddie lunch and bring it to him at work.
“Sorta,” he finally settles on.
“Dude, if she’s making you lunch and writing little hearts next to your name, she’s more than ‘sorta’ your girlfriend,” Kyle says.
“Yeah… Maybe,” Eddie allows, because – well, because maybe.
“Pretty nice of your friend to drive it over, though,” Kyle says. “Pretty sure at least half of my friends would’ve just eaten it.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says again, warm and a little smug, “Steve’s a good dude.”
He digs into the lunch sack and finds an apple sitting on top (of course), a baggie of Keebler fudge cookies (score), and a Tupperware container filled with–
“Oh, fuck yes!” Eddie hugs the precious little tub full of macaroni and cheese to his chest like he’s doing his best Gollum impression. There is nothing in the world better than Steve’s mac and cheese.
It’s still warm.
“I’m taking my break!” Eddie declares, skittering off to the back room before Kyle can argue.
He sits himself down in the employee break area (a crappy folding table, two mismatched chairs, and a microwave so old he’s probably getting radiation poisoning just by sitting next to it) and digs in to the cheesy goodness that is Steve’s cooking.
He’ll eat the apple after, he reasons.
(No he won’t.)
As he eats, his eyes drift back to the crumpled brown bag, to the little heart drawn in bleeding black sharpie, and he thinks.
-
Steve’s house smells like chicken and herbs when Eddie lets himself in early in the evening, and oh, Steve must be in a good mood today.
Eddie feels spoiled.
He finds Steve in the kitchen, wrist-deep in sudsy water as he sways back and forth absently to the tune of the rock station coming from the radio on the windowsill. The room is warm, and something delicious-smelling in a covered pan is simmering on the stove, and the space behind Steve is invitingly empty, just waiting for Eddie to sidle up into it.
Eddie feels so, so spoiled.
Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie slides in behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, but Eddie isn’t really surprised anymore; it seems like Steve can always tell when someone is there.
He does glance over his shoulder, though, just long enough for Eddie to see the smile on his face before he turns back to the dishes. “Hi.”
Eddie’s pretty sure the smile on his own face is softer and infinitely more besotted. “Hi.”
“Good day at work?” Steve asks.
Eddie hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s shoulder. “You brought me lunch.”
“I’m glad Kyle actually gave it to you,” Steve says. “Wasn’t sure someone else wouldn’t eat it.”
“I got it,” Eddie says, as if there was any doubt with the way he’s still smiling in between trailing little kisses up Steve’s neck.
Steve shuts the water off and dries his hands on the towel hanging off the cupboard door before turning in Eddie’s arms to give him a proper kiss. “It was good?”
Eddie hums again. “You brought me lunch.”
“We’ve established that, yeah,” Steve laughs, allowing Eddie another kiss as he grins.
“You made me lunch,” Eddie says, pecking another kiss to Steve’s lips, still smiling like an idiot. “And you drove it up to the store for me.”
Steve shrugs, a little coy. “It’s my day off. I had time to kill.”
“Kyle says that makes you more than sorta my girlfriend,” Eddie replies, as if that will make any sense at all to Steve.
Whether it makes sense or not, it does make him laugh, and Eddie peppers kisses all over his face while he does.
“So it was good?” Steve asks again, when he’s caught his breath.
“You made me lunch and then you drove it over to me,” Eddie stresses. “It could’ve tasted like ass, and it still would’ve been the best thing ever.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but is more than obliging to the deep kiss Eddie pulls him into after that.
“But just so we’re clear,” Steve says when they break apart, “it didn’t taste like ass, right?”
“Oh my god, no,” Eddie finally relents. “It was literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I’m going to marry you so you can make that mac and cheese for me every day.”
“Every day, huh?” There’s a funny little smile climbing back over Steve’s face. “You sure you won’t get sick of it?”
“Nah,” Eddie replies confidently. “Never.”
They’re both smiling a little too much now to really kiss, but they make a good go of it anyway.
[Prompt: Smiling between kisses]
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𝕍𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝔽𝕒𝕚𝕣 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕪
“ I’m (y/n) (l/n) and we’re the cast of Outer Banks and today, we’re going to test how well we know each other.” You smiled looking between the camera and the group to your left. Carlacia raised her hand as she motioned between you and Drew, “Drew shouldn’t be allowed to answer any of these because none of us will even have a chance.”
Everyone let out sounds of agreement as you shook your head, reading the first question, “I don’t know. These are questions that made me think about my answer.”
“Okay, oo. This is a good one. What movie animal is my dog named after?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this.” Drew told you but you shook your head in disagreement, “I’ve mentioned it before but I think it was when you guys first met him.”
“The adventures of Milo and Otis?” Chase asked and Madison agreed but you shook your head. Both Austin and Drew leaned forward to try and read the car but you quickly pulled away, tucking the card against your chest, “Cheaters!”
“What movie has a dog named Milo in it?”
“Oh! The mask! His dogs name is Milo!” Rudy answered and you flipped your card, showing ‘The Mask’, “I’m a huge Jim Carrey fan and since Milo is also a jack russell, it was fate.”
“Oo, you guys are never going to get this one,” you laughed, reading the card, “it literally took me so long to even think about this one. When I was 5, I jumped off the banister and had to get stitches. Where were the stitches?”
Everyone looked over at Drew, who would be the only one to remotely know the answer but he just tilted his head at you in thought.
“Your head?” Madelyn asked but you shook your head, “Nope. My sister did though. Cracked her head open.”
“How are you and your sister still alive?” Austin asked, looking at you in surprise as you shrugged before writing your answer on the card.
“Your legs?” JD asked, snapping his fingers at you
“Nope. Not even close.”
Drew clapped his hands once as he looked over at you, “Your tongue. You bit through your tongue and had to get 6 stitches.”
“Your tongue?!?” Madison asked, looking over at you in shock as you flipped your card, showing the answer, “Yes. I smacked my chin on the arm of the couch and bit right through my tongue. My tongue was stuck and I had to get stitches.”
“You just need to live in a bubble at this point, girl.” Carlacia laughed as everyone agreed with her.
“What do I think is the grossest thing a person can do?”
“THROWING UP!” Drew and JD shouted at the same time as they high fived. You cringed as you showed your card that read ‘throwing up’ as the answer.
“I hate throwing up. I hate the way I feel before, during, and after. It’s just so gross and gives me the ick.” You shuddered as Austin patted your leg, “The first time she threw up in front of us, she cried because of how grossed out she was.”
“That was traumatizing for all of us,” Rudy explained, “we were out on a boat and she just went very pale and threw up. Everywhere. We had no idea what had happened and then she just started bawling her eyes out. We all started panicking, thinking something was wrong but then she said how she hated throwing up and it just…it killed the whole vibe.”
You chucked the marker cap at Rudy, who ducked but went to retrieve it, “Sorry that being seasick killed the vibe, dillhole.”
Letting out a laugh at the nest question, you looked over at Drew and shook your head, “you’re not allowed to answer this one. You’ll get the answer right away.”
“I’ve known all of these, baby,” he winked and your face went red as you hid it behind the card, “just trying to give them a chance.”
“You guys gross me out.” Madelyn teased, looking between you two
“What is my favorite show to binge?” You asked, but you wrote down two possible answers.
“That 70s show is one.” Chase answered, “I always hear the theme song in your trailer and you quote it constantly.”
“You also watch the walking dead a lot too.” JD added, pointing to Chase, “you yell at your laptop a lot.”
“Dude, you have no idea how long it took me to get used to her yelling at the tv.” Drew told him, “the first time she did it, I thought she was pissed at me for no reason but she was just watching the walking dead.”
Everyone started talking about how into your shows you get, causing you to hold up your hands in protest, “Okay, okay! There’s nothing wrong with being passionate about movie and tv shows. But yes, that 70s show and the walking dead are my go to.”
“Two complete opposite shows, by the way.” Madison pointed out
“Oo, how many tattoos do I have?”
Everyone went quiet as they stared at you, no doubt picturing the tattoos that laid under your clothes. You had been purposely asked to wear a long sleeve top and pants to not let them get the answer so easily.
“I wanna say…12?” Carlacia asked, tilting her head at you, “Most of them are on your right arm but I know you have a few on your left. You have the fairy wings on your back…”
“I know you have a dinosaur on your leg because I drew a hat on it last week.” Austin answered, causing you to look up from writing your answer, furrowing your eyebrows at him, “you drew a hat on Terrance?”
“You named the dinosaur Terrance?” JD laughed as you nodded, “Terrance the triceratops.”
“Terry, for short.” Drew added, pointing at you as you nodded
“I wanna say 10 or 15.” Madison said, leaning forward, “I know you got P4L after season 2 came out.”
“You only had like 2 when the show started.”
“There’s a few you guys don’t know about cause they’re always covered.” You told them, going over your answer. Drew didn’t even miss a beat with his response, “Well, they don’t. But I do.”
“Okay! Who’s next?!”
#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks imagines#rafe obx#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron smut#obx#obx rafe#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagines#obx rafe cameron#obx3#outer banks x reader#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron x reader
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maybe i will finally learn my lesson? - begin again au ☆
wc: 1.2k
tw: sad, angst, rejection, talks about sex. no actual smut tho. borderline alcoholic tbh
ryan leonard x hughes sister au!
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
frankie fell back onto her bed with a soft thud as she tried to catch her breath. she looked at the boy beside her with a hopeful look hoping to gosh he would stay the night and cuddle her. she just needed some form of reassurance.
he never ever wanted to stay over though.
“i gotta go, the guys are going out tonight” he says as he gets out the bed acting like he was talking to some stranger. what frankie didn't realize was that they basically were.
“do you have to leave?” she says in a sad voice kneeling on the bed. she hated how he never wanted to stay and talk. was that so much for a girl to ask for these days?
“frankie, im all spent for right now, but i mean if im feeling it later on, i'll stop by”
is he fucking serious.
it had honestly been a while since frankie had felt that much rage. he really did only think of her as a fuck buddy.
she knew what she was getting herself into, when she agreed on their little agreement, but in the movies it always ends with the guys falling in love with you. right?
“oh my gosh. just leave. like actually” she said getting back in bed and turning her back to him. which left him dumbfounded. why would she be mad he had to leave?
“did i do something?” he asked confused as he finished putting his cloths on.
no answer.
that pissed drew off. she had no reason to be all pissy with him.
“are you mad because im going out with the boys? why would that bother you? were not anything, frankie. im allowed to go out” he said. still starring at her back.
“oh don’t worry. you’ve made that very clear to me drew” she says, her voice wavering due to the fact she just felt so foolish.
“whatever, you’re annoying me. talk to me when ur done being crazy” he said walking out and slamming her door in a fit of rage.
to say frankie took it totally fine would be dishonest. she sobbed in a fetal position all night. while blasting foolish one by taylor swift.
that woman really does have a song for every situation.
she had honestly never felt so alone.
of course she’s not actually alone; she just refuses to go to anyone and burden them with her problems. it’s not like she can call her parents and her brothers due to the fact she can’t lie to them. she knew they were going to ask something like 'how'd practice go?' and whatnot so she's been forwarding their calls since Wednesday when she quit the team.
she could also call her friends. or her ex teammates. did she even have friends?
she was alone.
___
she sits in her room finishing up and assignment when she felt like doing something. usually she would get drunk and go from there, but no. if the last week has taught her anything; it's that she's becoming a new person. and the new person wouldn't black out after every minor convenience.
so in the spur of the moment, she decided she was going to rearrange her room! which is what lead her to where she was right now; outside the freshman hockey house.
while moving her bed from one side to another, she found drews hoodie. so being the mature, new, amazing person she claimed to be... she decided to give him back his hoodie, as a form of ceasing the deal. this is a supposed to be a step forward is it three steps back?
frankie walked up the front steps and as she lifted her fist to knock she halts, when she hears multiple voices coming from inside. not wanting to end her and drews situationship in front of his teammates; to save them both the embarrassment. she quickly trashes her plan and decided to just head home.
but when she heard her name is when she decided against that.
"frankie?" she hears drew ask.
"yes dude. its actually so obvious she wants you after what your saying she did yesterday"
he told them about the argument?
well she couldn't really get mad, if frankie had best friends she would of probably told them too.
"well i dont want her like that and she knows that"
frankie felt her heart crack.
i mean she told herself he didn't like her back, but hearing him say it, is a whole different level of pain for someone who just oh so hoped to joke about their situationship one day over coffee as he watched the morning news while their kids got ready for school.
foolish one, frankie hughes.
"no way your gonna reject her, she's so hot. what the hell is there not to like" one of his stupid teammates said.
"I mean she's the nicest and one of the hottest girls I've ever got with dont get me wrong, but some of the shit she says makes me question if she's being for real or not" drew said not knowing the match he was lighting.
"I think I know what your talking about, is it when she said she thought denver was in texas?" one of his other teammates chimed in.
"bro yes. that actually left me speechless" he says. frankie felt like burning the house down at this point.
"she's lucky she's got hockey" another voice said.
"had'
the hoodie she had in her hands slipped through her fingers. just like the heart drew held. the heart he never wanted to hold.
she backed away from the door, never wanting to slash anyones tires more. she wanted to commit arson. the way they were talking about her, made her want to throw up.
she can take the fact he didn't like her back. thats okay. if he didn't feel the butterflies she felt it wasn't no one fault. but mine.
but the fact he stood their and called her stupid? who the fuck even knows geography like that? she felt so many emotions run through her veins and the one overcoming the rest was the one that held the power over her tears.
"frankie?" oh my god. no. why the hell did I not run home?
she turned her head to see ryan leonard standing there. one of drews friends. someone she had considered to be her friend. but if the rest talk about her like that, him, will, and gabe probably do too.
"you didn't see me here, ryan" she said as she covered her face trying to push past him.
"wha- hey! what's wrong? who did this?" he said grabbing her wrist and seeing her crying eyes. he knew who did it. he just needed to hear a confirmation before he went inside and beat his ass.
"nothing. let me go" she said wiping her tears.
"im not letting you leave here alone hughes, i know how you get when your this sad. I dont want to wake up tomorrow and hear that you got hit by a damn bus for gosh sake"
one thing ryan hated was when she would drink her feelings away because that meant she was going to be reckless. she honestly is reckless.
"well then do you want to come?"
I got tired so im done writing but I wanted to post this! also ! I have no hate towards drew, its all going to add up in the future when I start the other aus I have planned but for now drew is like anyone else and he's learning and growing. so bear with me!
#nhl imagine#frankie x ryan#ryan leonard#gabe perreault#nhl imagines#bc hockey#will smith hockey#hockey imagine#hockey fic#gabe perreault x reader#ryan leonard x reader#ryan leonard imagine#jack hughes#hughes sister#luke hughes#quinn hughes#drew fortescue
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Helping Hand | Mat Barzal
summary: Mat’s son meets his next door neighbour and quickly befriends her, what happens when Mat falls for her much like she does for him?
trope: single dad
request: yes/no
warnings: none.
word count: 1.64k
authors note: I asked who got the child and you requested Mat so here he is as a dad! We are going to act like Tito was never traded because this piece isn’t dated but I miss him as an Islander. If you want to check out the rest of the celly you can do so here!
It had been the longest day of your life.
All you wanted to do was run yourself a bubble bath as you went to sleep for an early night. That was why when you stood in the elevator your couldn’t help but smile as some kid stared up at you.
Your mother always said that when a child stared at you for just being you it was a compliment because clearly you were pretty “I like your croc,” you pointed to the child’s stuffed animal that he held on to for dear life.
His nanny couldn’t help but smile as you crouched down to talk to him “what’s his name?” You added as you saw that your floor was still another thirty away.
Drew held the crocodile out so that he could place it on your hands “that’s Danny and I’m Drew,” he introduced himself as he sent you a gummy grin that was due to his two front teeth missing.
You pretended to study the teddy as you nodded along with what he was saying “I’m y/n,” your introduction was more so to the lady that was with him “Agatha.” She nodded as she let the two of you get back to your conversation.
By the time the elevator doors opened you knew all of Drew’s favourite facts about himself, his favourite colour was blue, he likes horses. Chicken nuggets and fries are his favourite food but his dad doesn’t let him eat it that often. The part that probably made your heart warm was that the young boy sang his fathers praises as he made it clear that his dad was a cool dude “you promise you’ll come meet my dad soon?” Drew asked as you walked them to their door realising that he was actually your neighbour.
You nodded as you held your pinky out “I promise,” his small finger locked itself around yours and you had to resist the urge to aww at the sight “have a good day you two.” You added as you softly ruffled the boys hair eliciting a laugh from his lips.
The duo watched you make your way down the hall “bye y/n!” Drew called out as he waved before he walked into his apartment.
The young boy played on your mind for the entirety of the next day so when you were back in the hallway walking to your apartment and you came across Danny who seemed to have been dropped on the floor you knew what you had to do.
It wasn’t often that you got yourself involved in other people’s business but after listening to Drew highlight the importance of this stuffed animal you knew he’d appreciate it “you are not the postman.” Mat blurted out as he opened the door to be met with your empty hands.
You sucked at your bottom lip as you furrowed your eyebrows “you’re not Agatha,” your comment made him laugh “she’s got the day off.” He explained as his eyes went down to your hands “thank god you found that stupid animal.” Mat added as he realised that Drew no longer had to rip up his bedroom trying to find that.
Part of you wanted to remind him of the crocodiles name but the other part of you knew it was best to just keep your mouth shut “y/n!” Drew let out a cheer as he saw you stood at the door.
Mat was surprised when he realised that you were actually a real person but that you were also an adult “I believe this is yours,” you smiled as you bent down to hand him Danny.
The young boy wrapped his arms around your neck as he almost knocked you off of your feet “thank you!” Drew repeated those words drawing a laugh from both you and his father “don’t mention bud,” you smiled as you patted his back.
His dads eyes never left yours as he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of the door “do you want to ask your friend if she wants to come in?” Mat proposed as he rubbed his hand along his chin.
Drew’s eyes lit up at the thought “do you? Do you really?” He asked as he squealed with excitement.
You let out a laugh as you stood back up straight “I don’t even know your name,” you pointed out as you looked at Mat.
The boy groaned “tell her who you are daddy!” Drew pulled at Mats pants as the older Barzal remained quiet.
Mat shook his head as he snapped himself out of it “Mat, Mat Barzal.” The hockey player introduced himself to you as he held his hand out for you to shake.
His tone made you think that you should have known who he was but still you remained oblivious “y/n l/n.” You never that by listening to Drew it would start the most interesting month of your life.
Now you still remained unaware of Mats true profession but that was because you never seemed to ask and besides thinking he was some rich businessman each time he left the apartment in his suit was much more entertaining.
So instead after a busy week where you hadn’t seen a lot of Drew or Mat you knew the perfect way to apologise to the boy for not seeing him all week after Agatha sent you a text saying the boys missed you.
It wasn’t clear to you why Mat would have been involved in that statement but you didn’t look into it “you sure that I can’t meet her?” Tito groaned as he kicked his legs.
Drew had been playing away with his toys on the carpet “I don’t want you guys to scare her.” Mat explained as he shrugged “she wants to meet them.” Drew announced as he didn’t look up from his train set.
That was music to Tito’s ears “see she wants to meet us!” He cheered at the boys phrase.
Mat rolled his eyes “I’ll see when she has time.” The Canadian proposed as there was a knock at the door “so I’ve got four different cupcakes so take your pick but just not-” you walked into his apartment just like how you always did.
Tito locked eyes with you as he smiled “you’re friends with the Tito Beauvillier and you never told me!” You gasped as you sent Mat a glare only causing his teammate to laugh.
It wasn’t often that Mat was jealous but this was one of those few moments “how do you know who he is but not me!” Mat furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.
Drew ran over to you “hi y/n!” He giggled as he wrapped his arms around your legs.
You smiled as you looked down at the boy “the guy I sit next to at work has his poster above his computer.” You explained as you crouched down to be eye level with Drew “which one do you want?” You added as you opened the box for the boy to see the different cupcakes in your box.
Over the next two months you learnt all about how Mat was a hockey player and you even went as far as to meet his teammates. Twitter began to think that you were more than just Mats friend as a video came out of you playing rock paper scissors with Drew in the family and friends box.
After an afternoon game Mat convinced you to go for a round a minigolf. You were for the most part unsure of it, you had grown fond of both Drew and Mat but you didn’t want to put your feelings above the young boys.
What you didn’t know was that Mat felt the same way about you. The fights he had gotten into recently on the ice were because of chirps about you, your style, your body, anything about you that they could say to get under his skin about your they said it. After every game though you always landed up back at his place to play nurse “Mat!” You laughed as the boy wrapped his arms around you to stop you from swinging the club “no cheating!” You added as the scruff from his beard rubbed against your neck.
He smiled as he put you back down “I’m just helping my cause,” he explained as you spun around to face him.
The smirk was present on your face “your cause?” You cocked your head as you licked your lips.
Mats hand went to your hair as he smile “got a pretty strong plan.” He confessed as he dropped his club to the ground “want to tell me about them?” You wriggled you eyebrows as your heart rate increased.
Alarm bells should have rung in Mats head as he studied your face “dinner, maybe even a second date?” He proposed grateful that he had booked the course out so they didn’t have anyone watching them “kiss me.” You blurted out as you couldn’t take it anymore.
All of the temptation and the waiting had built up in your bones “you sure?” Whilst it was all Mat wanted to hear he still didn’t want to cross a line you didn’t want him to.
You nodded “so sure it’s painful,” you gasped as the boys hands went to your cheeks before he kissed you.
It sucked the air out of your lungs as you kissed him back when your club hit the ground with a clang as your hands went on top of his.
A muffled giggle came from your lips at his neediness “wait, what do we tell Drew?” You gasped as you remembered that he was sat at home with Agatha.
“I don’t think he’ll mind if his favourite girl is around more.”
#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal oneshot#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal x oc#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#nhl imagine#nhl oneshot#oneshots#imagines#ambers 500 celly#amber writes fics
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A Hard Challenger to Beat
Wednesday night was men-only at the small country town bar. Living in a remote area could get awfully boring at times, but boy’s night was a highlight for most of the men’s weeks. There was truly nothing like blowing off some steam with your pals after a hard day’s work. No hassles, no consequences, just dudes having fun.
One of the main attractions on Wednesday nights was the Beat Billy pool challenge. The challenge was simple: play Billy in a game of pool, if you lose you have to give him ten dollars, and if you win then you get a special reward.
What was the special reward? If you saw Billy in action, it wouldn’t take long to find out. Every Wednesday night you could find Billy bent over the pool table lining up for a shot, with his big butt sticking out and his jeans, stuffed with ten dollar notes, looking like they’re about to split.
Yep, the special reward was an all-expense paid trip down to pound town (also known as the last stall in the men’s bathroom) with the one and only, Bubble Butt Billy. It was a shame that Billy was the best darn pool player in that town and the next town over.
It was a lucrative business for Billy, who never once had to surrender his pride to another man. However, it was speculated that the Beat Billy challenge was more profitable for the bar than it was for Billy himself. The challenge drew large crowds of pent-up men, some, who in their lustful delusions, thought themselves skilled or lucky enough to earn themselves some quality time with Billy’s behind, and others, who were more financially conscious, would instead egg on their pals to give the challenge a go just for the chance to see Billy bend over the pool table a couple more times.
Without a fault, each Wednesday night would bring to the bar a rowdy crowd, despite how predictable the events of the night were. Billy would pocket a nice amount spending money at the expense of his hopeful challengers, and the patrons would get their fair share of Bubble Butt Billy action. Billy barely had to try against his challengers and was eager to play a game of pool against an actually formidable opponent, and on one Wednesday night he got exactly that.
It was a Wednesday night that seemed to be going the same as every other Wednesday before it. Billy had just defeated yet another challenger and was counting ten dollar bills with his signature cocky smirk painted across his face. “Anyone else want to challenge me?” he said, teasing his audience by leaning his upper body ever so slightly over the pool table.
“I will.” An unfamiliar voice boomed from the back of the room. Billy turned around to size up the stranger. Billy, who was never short of words to belittle his upcoming challengers, was silent. It wasn’t the stranger’s face that left Billy at a loss for words; his eyes hadn’t even gotten up that far. Billy’s gaze was stuck on the bulging mass that was tenting the stranger’s tight jeans. For the first time in a long while Billy remembered the consequences of losing the challenge, his mind trapped in thoughts of how his virgin hole would fare if he lost this one time.
“My eyes are up here buddy,” the stranger said in a playful tone, strutting towards Billy with an irresistible swagger. “Just teasin’ ya. The name’s Rick,” he said warmly, reaching his hand out for a handshake. “I’d like to challenge you to a game of pool. I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem.”
Billy snapped out of his daze and shook Rick’s hand. “You’re new around here, so I’ll have to warn you not to get your hopes up,” Billy said, building up his confident facade again. “I haven’t even been trying tonight.”
“I expect nothing but your best.” Rick was unfazed. “I’ll let you break.”
Billy picked up his cue stick and the white ball as Rick set up the rest of the balls to break. As he had done a hundred times before, Billy got ready to begin play, lining his cue stick up to hit the white ball as his butt pointed out towards the leering spectators. Usually, Billy was so quick in his play that his opponent’s wouldn’t have time to register that the match had started. That night, Billy wasn’t so fast to start.
The cause of Billy’s delay was his opponent, who was standing on the opposite side of the table with his crotch directly in Billy’s line of sight. Rick’s hands were on his waist and he leaned just a little bit back to accentuate his large package.
“All bark and no bite,” Billy muttered under his breath. Billy struck the white ball, which jetted in the group of remaining balls causing them to scatter. Not a single ball had been potted into one of the holes, which was unusual for Billy.
It was Rick’s turn and he grabbed one of the cue sticks from the rack. He stroked the long wooden stick with his powerful hand lewdly under the guise of surveying its quality. “You know where I’m from, they call me Thick Stick Rick,” he said to Billy as he walked past him, meeting Billy’s gaze with a wink.
Rick quickly potted two balls in a row with ease, putting Billy on the back foot. Billy countered with his renowned precision. He potted three balls in quick succession and set himself up for an easy put away with a fourth.
The white ball had rolled to the centre of the large table meaning that Billy had to lean over extra far to reach it, causing his two large cheeks to stretch his jean fabric to its limit. Billy, who had been able to regain focus in the match, was about to sink his ball into one of the pockets when he felt something large and hard brush up against his crack. He turned around to see Rick towering over his lower half.
“Hey, you have to win first before you can have any of that,” Billy snapped, audibly annoyed.
“Apologies, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Rick said, feigning sincerity. “I just forget how big I am sometimes.”
Billy tried his best to brush off Rick’s comment and struck the white ball, but it clearly affected him as the ball he was aiming for, which was set up so well, bounced off the rim of the pocket and back towards the centre of the pool table. Billy swore under his breath; he never missed a shot like that.
“Don’t stress about it,” Rick said, placing his middle and index finger into one of the pockets. “These holes are so tight,” he wriggled his two fingers, “that these balls only just fit in.”
Rick’s innuendos had a marked effect on Billy, allowing Rick to even the scoreboard in spite of the vast difference in their skill levels. Each player now had one ball each to put away before they could go for the win by potting the eight ball. It was Billy’s turn and he was once again bent over the table, ass in the air, and lining up for a shot.
“Looking good Billy boy.” Rick chimed in as Billy was doing some practice shots in front of the white ball to check he had the right alignment.
“I don’t need you to help me with my alignment, I’m the expert… '' Billy trailed off as he realised Rick wasn’t commenting on his shot preparation. Instead, Rick’s eyes were glued to Billy’s famous butt.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just keeping my eyes on the prize,” Rick said, biting his bottom lip.
Billy tried to ignore Rick and went ahead with his shot. He managed to pot his final ball, but foolishly sunk the white ball as well. The crowd, who had fallen silent from the tension of the match, let out a gasp when Billy made this rare error.
Rick was able to sink his final ball as well, leaving the two in a race to pot the eight ball first for the win. Rick had no success on his first attempt as the eight ball was stuck in a tricky position. His comparative lack of experience showed as Rick was not careful enough to put the eight ball in a difficult position for his opponent to finish off.
All Billy needed to do was hit a straight shot from one end of the table to the other, which was easy for a player like himself. Rick, the schemer he was, was still not out of ideas. He moved himself behind the pocket Billy was planning to sink the eight ball into and started grinding his huge bulge against that corner pocket.
“How badly do you want to get into this hole, cause I want to get into this hole real bad,” Rick said with a slight grunt. Billy stayed silent. “It’s only a small hole Billy boy, it could be a real struggle to fit in.” Billy lined up his shot. “God Billy,” Rick’s voice turned low and rough as he took a step back from the table and squeezed his tightly wrapped manhood with his hand. “I’m a big boy, and I’m not even hard yet. You can’t even imagine the damage I could do to your bussy, or is that what you want? Have you been going easy on me on purpose Billy boy?”
Billy’s face was red from a mixture of anger and fear. He was sweating profusely and his hands were trembling. Billy drew his cue stick back then thrusted it forward with as much might as possible. The white ball rocketed into the eight ball which slammed into the pocket. In his desperation, Billy had struck the white ball far too hard and it followed the eight ball into the pocket.
Despair was the only thing that could describe Billy. Sinking the eight ball and fouling in the same shot was an automatic loss. The crowd knew this and roared with excitement. Thick Stick Rick was victorious.
Billy looked to the crowd, his eyes pleading for mercy. This was futile as the crowd, who had lost a lot of money over the years to Billy, were seeking retribution and Rick would deliver it.
“Rick! Rick! Thick Stick Rick!” the crowd chanted.
Rick approached the defeated Billy. “I ain’t gonna force you or nothin’ Billy boy, I ain’t like that,” Rick said, placing his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “But if you –”
“I’m a man of my word Rick. I couldn’t show my face in this town again if I didn’t go through with this.” Billy replied earnestly, not letting Rick finish.
“That’s the Bubble Butt Billy I’ve heard so much about. Now don’t you worry, Rick is gonna treat you real nice.” Rick gave Billy’s big butt a friendly smack.
The crowd’s chanting reached a climax as Billy and Rick walked into the men’s bathroom together. “Give ‘em hell Rick!” yelled a frenzied patron.
Soon, the bar fell into silence as the once raucous spectators listened suspensefully. At first there was no sound coming from the bathroom. After a little while a faint banging noise could be heard. It got louder and louder, until Billy’s moaning commenced. Billy reached a transcendent state, his shameless moans of pleasure filling up the bar and causing the pants of everyone in it to become a little more snug. Some opted to loosen their belts to relieve the pressure that was quickly building below.
“That son of a whore Billy is really enjoying this isn’t he?” commented one of the bargoers.
“Rick sure is a stallion!” remarked another.
“Billy won’t be able to walk properly for a week!”
“Don’t tell me Bubble Butt Billy lost on purpose!”
Rick and Billy’s erotic encounter culminated with a shared orgasmic roar that reverberated throughout the entire establishment. Rick, ever the gentlemen, offered to book a hotel room for the two of them for the night once he caught his breath back. All Billy could do was nod and collapse into Rick’s arms, his body completely exhausted.
“You’ve got a body that men like me dream about, Billy boy.” Rick kissed Billy on the forehand and proceeded to carry him out of the bar on his shoulders to a nearby hotel. There, Billy slept peacefully in Rick’s arms and Rick dozed off with his hands cupping Billy’s big cheeks.
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can’t say i am all that surprised at loreen winning but i am extremely disappointed. just wanna say, that i don’t wanna be angry or upset at loreen—no one denies that she is an amazing singer/artist and she achieved an great feat w winning twice, good for her honestly—but the whole affair leaves an incredibly bitter taste.
While I personally didn’t enjoy tattoo all that much even when it came out, now it’s downright tainted. I enjoyed Euphoria so much back in 2012 and since. It felt special and fresh and drew you right in, it left a lasting impression. Tattoo… doesn’t. It doesn’t feel special, it doesn’t grab me, it’s a decent song but that’s really it. Whatever. Saw someone say that if it wasn’t sung by Loreen but an unknown young swedish singer europe’s people wouldn’t care about or for the song here and i gotta say I agree. Nostalgia, and Loreen being an established household name, her ESC fame and legacy, those seem rather to be the major reasons fuelling her win—and it now taints that exact legacy.
And I hate it. Even Euphoria now leaves a bad taste and I hate it. I am upset. It shouldn’t be this way. The consistent and great dichotomy between jury and public is just… ugh.
Look, I have historically always widely disagreed with all the jury votes and even lots of the public votes. A lot of my favourites this year, Czechia, Moldova, Slovenia, Austria, etc. placed low. Sucks.
But nothing hurts so viscerally as seeing a widely beloved act that was the CLEAR chosen one by the people shown in loud support and millions of votes—the absolutely smashed public vote—a song that represents so well of what we love about ESC, a truly unique, extraordinary standout song, an unusual genre, sung in a native language and bridging those barriers, some funky lil dude no one really has heard of before, a colourful show, and some deeper meaning if you look closer at it and just such a catchy and fun song—get absolutely FUCKED OVER by an elite chosen few (supposedly representing their country but how could they, they certainly didn’t ask us) in a system with VERY questionable origins.
So much unity in music and the europeans choosing for their favourite. The people have spoken. And they said Cha Cha Cha. Loudly.
And now Loreen bears the brunt of the mess, the people’s anger and her legacy stained and it’s not fucking fair, not for her, because the system DOESN‘T FUCKING WORK.
I am upset.
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THE KISS CAM
Pairing : Jeon Jeongguk x Y/N
Genre : Fluff, dating au
Word count : 1k
Summary : you appear on the KISS CAM but with the wrong person…
Weekends…
There was nothing special about weekends. For you weekends were boring. It consisted of you munching some potato chips, binge watching Kdramas, living up to your name of night owl. That was it. That was the end of it.
But that was until Jungkook came along, your boyfriend of 6 months. Weekends never felt so amazing…
Loving him was so easy…
It felt so natural…
He was shy. He was tired and messy hairs. He was oversized clothes and ripped jeans. He was whispers at 4 am. He was the smell before it rains. He was the love of her life. A love she never expected would be hers. A love so pure, that it feels to good to be true.
Author’s POV
Ding Dong
“Coming…” you yell loud enough for the entire neighbour hood to hear you before making your way to the door to open it.
There he was standing looking handsome, dashing, cool, amazing as ever… Words were never enough to describe him.
“Ready to go?” He enquired before complimenting how beautiful you looked. He always does that. He’ll call you beautiful even if you were ugly-crying some moments ago. He’ll call you beautiful even if you just woke up and ur face is all swollen up. You were always beautiful in his eyes.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You chimed in making sure to lock the door before you left.
Jungkook had been so into baseball recently, that he convinced you into going to one of the matches that was being held today.
Time skip
“There, that’s our seat.” He said pointing in the direction of two empty seats, both of you making your way into the direction.
The whole stadium was packed with tons of people. More than half of the population wearing their representative team’s uniform. It was spectacular.
“Y/N, is that you?” You heard a familiar voice beside you, hitting your eardrums, which made you turn your head in the direction.
“Yijoon?”
Hwang Yijoon, or more like your crush during high school. Although you did have feelings for him, but that was a thing in the past. As they always say, first love is never successful.
You grew up, your feeling changed. Both of you lost contact owing to the new chapter of adulting in your respective lives. You both got busy in the marathon of growing up.
You’ve told Jungkook about Yijoon once when he inquired who was the guy in your graduation photo, with hearts drawn all over him. Yes, it was you who drew the hearts, your only means of expressing your love for him.
“Omg, Yijoon-ah, how long has it been?” You were beyond ecstatic to meet him.
“I almost forgot about your existence.”
“Well, that was harsh.” He said placing his hand on his heart.
“You grew up so much Y/N, I almost couldn’t recognise you without your braces and bangs.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You laughed swaying your hair.
Both of you got so busy in catching up that you never realised the game had started and that you had a human being accompany you today.
Jungkook’s POV
“Sigh…” this is the umpteenth time I have been sighing.
I’ve been trying so hard to concentrate on the game but all I can concentrate is on them. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but it is her CRUSH being referred here. HER F**KING CRUSH.
I so badly want to go and sit between them and tell that guy, “hey dude, we are on a date, and if you don’t mind I’ll have my girlfriend to myself.”
Author’ POV
“Umm…Y/N? Who’s that guy? He has been eyeing us for a while now.” Yijoon inquired.
It was at this moment, she knew she f**ked up.
You quickly turned your attention towards Jungkook giving him an apologetic look.
“Yijoon, meet Jungkook, Jungkook, meet Yijoon.” You quickly introduced both of them.
“Hi, I am Jungkook, Y/N’s boyfriend. I’ve heard a lot about you from Y/N.” Jungkook gave a strong handshake to Yijoon, asserting himself, jealousy clearly visible on his face.
“Hopefully good things.” Yijoon replied.
Before you knew it, it was break time, or should I say KISS CAM TIME.
Numerous couples appeared on the screen, many of them eventually giving in and kissing, all the while, kiss me more by Doja cat played in the background.
“Aww, they are soo adorable.” You squealed clapping your hands, looking at couples on the screen have the time of their lives.
But that was until you appeared on the screen…
With Yijoon…
Oh shit…
You crossed your hands indicating you and Yijoon are not together. Yijoon even tried pointing at Jungkook. But no matter what, the camera wouldn’t budge.
Now even the crowd started chanting, “ kiss kiss kiss….”
That was the end of it. That was the final straw for Jungkook. He pulled you in for a kiss. It was sweet and soft. Our lips were madly in love and married. It didn’t involve tongue. All that was involved was love and longing. Longing for each other.
You could hear the crowd cheering and clapping in the background. But that was all white noise. All that mattered in this moment was you and him. It was your moment.
You pulled away after some time, running short of breath. Your eyes met his.
“Your face is soo…..red. Are you fine?” Jungkook quickly made sure to check your temperature by placing his hand on your forehead.
“I’m fine.” To which he nodded. You could feel your face pulsating, adrenaline still in your veins making a run for it. Conclusion- you were blushing.
“Y/N, you should know you have good taste in men.” Yijoon whispered beside you.
#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook smut#bts fluff#bts imagine#jeon jeongguk#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#park jimin#bts ffs#bts scenarios#jung hoseok#kim namjoon#kim taehyung#min yoongi#bts reactions#jungkook au#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfic recs#kpop smut#kpop#x reader#bts jungkook#bts fanfics#bts ff#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts rm#bts jin
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Emascatine
Yo, what's up? My names Phil and I'm the quarterback for Boston College. Go Eagles! I love the sport and I'm stoked I get to play QB.
I gotta be honest with you though, I've been having a slump lately out on the field. I haven't been at the top of my game. I've been working out every day but no matter how much training I put in, I'm getting sacked left and right.
I stopped by a local vitamin shop to switch up my preworkout. I don't think this whey stuff is really giving me the boost I need, ya know? The guy at the shop seemed like he was into me. I caught him multiple times checking me out as I was walking up and down the aisles. Not that I care really, a compliment is a compliment but dude could be less obvious about it. He eventually took a break from creepin to ask me what I was looking for in particular.
I explained how I wanted to switch up my preworkout, and he said he had just the thing. It was this black generic bottle with the brand name "Hit Fit." The slogan underneath it said "It'll hit you the first time guaranteed!" I didn't recognize the brand so I looked at the active ingredient, Emascatine. I've never heard of it either but the guy at the shop said it was a new type of drug only sold through his shop.
I was weary of trying the brand but the prospect of fast results was exactly what I needed right now. I caved and decided if I didn't see any results, I'd return it later.
I stopped home and whipped up the preworkout shake and threw it in my bag along with the bottle in case one of the teammates needed some. I made it to the locker room just in time, and setup in front my locker. I took out my preworkout and took my first sip. It tasted like fruit loops which was a nice changeup from my last powder that tasted like crap. I took more sips and really liked the taste so I started to down it.
"So tasty!" my voice cracked as I said it. "You good Phil?" asked my teammate, Drew.
"I'm good, sweetie!" The words just left my mouth without a thought. My voice had raised several octaves and my face was as red as ever realizing what I said. Drew looked at me in amusement. "haha okay, babe" thinking it was a joke.
I refocus on getting dressed, and pulled on my compression pants over my jock. My skin felt so sensitive in the moment. The tightness of the pants felt so good on my legs. I rubbed my legs up and down feeling the spandex material stretch. I was getting aroused by watching my quads flex in them. My eyes were closed sitting on the bench while I rubbed my inner thighs. An inaudible moan came from my mouth as I felt my dick hardened.
What was happening to me?! I look over the Hit Fit bottle and notice a tiny disclaimer at the bottom. "Emascatine may cause side effects of heightened sensitivity, mood changes, sexual stimulation, and emasculation."
I snapped out of it long enough to feel my ass stretch the tights even further. My center of gravity shifted as my ass grew into a firm bubble butt. I tried to walk around but felt an itch coming from deep inside my ass. I braced myself with hands on the wall squirming to hopefully scratch the itch. I don't know why it felt so right in the moment but I started to shake my ass faster and faster side to side as if it were on display for my teammates.
Drew had taken notice, yelling over "Yo, Phil. What has gotten into you?!" They watched as I continued moving my ass in their direction. My teammates' demeanor changed the longer they watched. I could see their faces going from confusion to slight interest to lustful. My ass was hypnotizing and they could have stood there all day staring into it's fluid motion.
I loved the look on their faces and called over to them "Hey boysss! You like what you see?"
Drew smiled, "Damn, Phil. Why don't you come over here and we can do some team bonding?"
I thought he'd never ask. I let them line up as I got in position.
-----------------------------------
Epilogue:
Coach says I need to take a step back from QB. Something about my performance not being up to snuff. I've been told I'd make a better water boy. I've really enjoyed it so far. I keep my boys hydrated as they take turns slamming my P-spot. Team morale has never been higher.
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stormy weather | tom holland
summary: right after an arguement with tom, you find yourself quaking during a storm.
warnings: panic attack, slight angst (angst to fluff), thunderstorms, cursing, alcohol
pairing: tom holland x reader
you huffed angrily as you threw your clutch onto the couch. "no, no, because you so clearly-"
"jeez! let it go! i was late, by what? like, 5 minutes?"
"try 3-fucking-0, thomas! 30 minutes late! and it wasn't even traffic. you didn't forget, i know you didn't! you chose not to show up."
catching the slight wince on his face, you groaned. it was always them, his friends, no matter what, they came first everytime. you hoped, maybe just for once, he'd see you. he'd pick you.
but no. nope. he didn't. and you felt so pathetic for it. for god's sake, you couldn't remember the last time he took time off to spend with you.
but since it was so rare, the thought of it even happening was insane.
he threw his hands up, "well, i don't know what you want me to tell you. it's my break. i think i'll spend it however the fuck i want, alright?"
"and that's fine! but you promised you'd be there! that you'd show up!"
"look, y/n," the name sounded weird on his tongue, foreign, almost. tom always called you some sort of pet name. "it's my off, and i hardly ever get those. sorry if i don't want to spend it with my clingy-ass girlfriend who does nothing but lounge around on the sofa all day sleeping," tom scoffed, pulling a beer out of the fridge.
you drew back slightly, words stinging. and what was he doing, having a beer in the middle of an- an... arguement? wasn’t he late because he was at the pub?
and you didn't spend all day on the couch sleeping. tom insisted that it would be okay if you didn't have a job, so you did household things.
did the laundry, dishes, cooked, cleaned, bought food, all of it.
maybe it wasn't as big as his job... but it was still important, right?
right?
so, basically, to sum up your lovely boyfriend's words, you were useless.
"i- that's not-... i don't do that." okay, you needed a bigger arsenal of better responses.
"you know what? i think i'd rather be useless then go around sucking up beer and degrading people, such as your girlfriend, just beacause i don't have anywhere else to go to let off steam."
fine, so it wasn't the best, but it was something.
you stormed up to your room, and he followed right after. "where are you going?"
grabbing a pillow from the bed, you shoved it in his face, "you, dude, are sleeping on the couch," you gave him your best sarcastic smile, but it probably didn't work out great with mascara stains running down your cheeks.
and then you slammed the door in his face, waiting for any type of protest, but you heard receding footsteps, knowing he left. you turned and pressed your back to the door, sliding down it. you sniffed and slid down it, pulling you knees to your chest.
that was probably one of the worst fights you had in a while.
not with tom, but just in general. you just didn't get why he wasn't trying harder. he used to do everything he could to spend more time with you. and now?
pfft.
when was the last date night? well, it was supposed to be tonight, but that didn't work out. on top of it all, he'd brang his friends to your date.
they were all drunk and stupid, giggling like boys at the restraunt. it was so embarrassing to drag them all out, and have to call them an uber.
and the entire time, everyone (and of course it was a busy night today, of all times) watched as you had to practically manhandle them.
for godsakes, you weren't their mother.
but either way, you weren't as upset with them as you were with tom. you didn't even want to think about how they got to the restraunt. all the boys were at least tipsy when they got there.
they took an uber here, you told yourself.
you jumped up, hearing a clap of thunder.
no.
no way.
of all the times for the fate to have bestow a storm on you, why did it have to be now.
a stike of lightning flashed out in the room, illuminating it momentarily.
yelping, you jumped onto the bed, hiding under the blanket. you knew you probably seemed ever so childish, but you couldn’t help it. you were absolutely terrified of storms. there was something about them (the uncertainty, maybe?) that left you trembling in the knees.
normally, tom would stay by you, curled up at your side. he’d joke around and whisper sweet nothings in your ear to calm you down.
but he wasn’t quite here for that, now was he?
i can ride it out.
however, as soon as you heard another crack of thunder, you knew that might not work.
you whimpered quietly, working on calming your breathing. squeezing your sides, you pretended tom was right next to you, telling you to breath in and out.
hot tears slid down your cheeks, and while you were wearing one of his old, loose shirts, the collar felt like it was choking you.
strangled breaths left your mouth, and your eyes were shut tight.
you just barely heard the door creak open, "oh, darling, i know that i'm the last person you'd ever want to speak to right now, but i can't leave you."
tom slid into bed beside you, wrapping his strong arms around you. "i'm right here, love. you're okay. i promise, you're okay," he cooed as you cried into his chest.
soon enough, your muffled sobs ceased, and the tightness around your throat seemed to go away. you were more aware of your surroundings, such as tom. he smelt lightly of sweat, and you could smell beer.
instantly, you pulled away from him.
"sorry," you muttered. "you can go now."
"no, wait. can we talk?"
"we are."
"okay, smart-ass," he tried to joke, but quickly dropped it with an apology once he saw your unamused face.
"you have absolutely every right to be mad at-"
"i am."
his smile faultered, and you sighed.
"please hear me out," tom begged.
"i- okay. fine."
"i don't expect you to forgive me, angel. i messed up, big time. i put things that shouldn't come before you first. because trust me, you do come first. i- i just. i've been really stressed, and i know that's not an excuse but...
"it- it doesn't matter, but i shouldn't have taken it out on you. you've been one of the only people that's been there for me through all this, and i can't thank you enough.
"the point is, i've been a jerk, and you're some type of goddess for putting up with me. i'm really sorry i've been blowing you off. you're right, i didn't even realize i was doing it until you told me."
you frowned, "i shouldn't have had to tell you." you obviously forgave him, because how could you not?
"i know, you're right. and i promise that i'll show you how much from now on. oh, and i shouldn't have said that other stuff about you, either. what you do around here is just as important. seriously, this place would fall apart without you." he paused, "i love you. so much."
smiling, "i love you, too. and thank you for apologizing. i forgive you."
"show you how much," he murmured, trailing kisses on your jaw, "how much i love you right now, in fact."
#tom holland x reader#tom holland#fluff#angst#angst with a happy ending#tw panic attack#tom holland fluff#tom holland angst#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you
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𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫
GUYS IM NOT SHIPPING SABRINA AND NIKI (imshippingsabrinaandme)
pairing-idol bf niki x sabrina carpenter obsessed idol gf reader(me)(both are in enha bc im unoriginal an di cant think of new gg names)
warnings-screaming, readers lowk aggressive, absolutely sane people at a concert, some toxic ass woman hits on niki when ure literally right next to him like blud relationship is public
"BABE GET THE FUCK UP AND PUT ON YOUR CUTEST OUTFIT WE'RE SEEING YOUR WIFE"
"uh, which one"
"sabrina"
"yeah maybe in my dreams or smth"
"no bitch, we're going to her concert"
"WHAT NO THE FUCK REALLY???'"
"YES, GO CHANGE"
"WHAT THE FUCK DO I WEAR"
"I DONT KNOW BUT HURRY CUZ I WANNA MATCH AND DRESS CUTE WE HAVE FLORR TICKETS RIGHT INFORNT OF HER"
''NIKI DONT FUCK WITH ME RN "
"IM NOT GO"
and you went. you put on a cute miniskirt with an over the shoulder crochet sweater with a heart missing, but the twist was it had sparkly red beads swen into it as if it were bleeding.
''hows this?''
''cute but im not wearng a miniskirt''
''wear, these jeans''
luckily you bought niki a matching pair of jeans, with the same heart pattern except there was no fabric missing, a bloody heart was sewn in. he put on the jeans, a white tank top and a red jacket over it.
you did your makeup, drew some hearts in red eyeshadow, and put some red gems on your face. you finished with some eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. trying to comeplete nikis look, you kissed his cheek leaving a red kiss mark.now you were ready to leave
you arrived and waited in your place. suddenly the lights went out and a familiar blonde woman appeared, the song feather played and you screamed.
a few songs later, she stopped near you and said, "wait oh my god, you guys are from enhypen. i love you!" you were able to hold her hand and you screamed when the music turned back on.
you were singing to nonsense and some lady comes up to niki, not knowing hes in enhypen.
'hey, youre cute, can i get your number' running her hand down his arm
he awkwardly moved and tapped you. "no, sorry i have a girlfriend."
"i dont see her"
''now you do bitch move'' taken aback, she scoffed and left
the time so go home arrived and sabrina sent a wink your way before exiting the stage.
you waited to be called to leave and hugged niki, thanking him for buying tickets. a body gaurd came up to you to let you know you can leave and said 'miss sabrina told me to give this to you' you thanked him and lft
'babe, are you seeing this, shes in love w me. " it had her number and and note tellign you to text her.
after arriving at your home, you cleaned your makeup, (and nikis) changed and layed down.
'thanks baby, tonight was so much fun."
'of course, dont forget to text her'
'youre right, love you baby'
'love you too'
and sleep
I WANT TO SEE SABRINA SO BAD DUDE BUT IM ALMOST POSITIVE SHE AINT IN MA HCITY ANYMOREEEE
lets just enjoy the feeling of delusion and act like she gave us her number and said she loves us
#mia !!#im-yn-suckers#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen niki#niki fanfic#niki x reader#nishimura niki x reader#niki ff#nishimura riki#niki imagines#enha niki#ni ki#ni ki fluff#niki#niki blurbs#niki fluff#niki moodboard#niki scenarios#niki smau#niki x y/n#niki x you#nishimura niki#riki nishimura x reader#nishimura riki x reader#nishimura riki fluff#enhypen riki#enhypen
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A few kids were gathered around in one bundle, Billy was curious as to what was going on but he wasn’t curious enough to approach the circle that was forming. Then he saw who it was in the middle of the circle, full attention on this one child. He appeared to have a cast or something. ‘Oh that must be why all of them are so interested, someone broke their arm and everyone is amazed’ Billy sighs as he moves his head from afar, trying to see the boys face to make out who it actually was. Some adult joined the gathering as they tried their best to make the kids leave him alone or something, some left as their attention was occupied with something else that was plain and boring. Now Billy could see the boys face. ‘Huh? It is Stu, when did Stu break his arm? He was fine yesterday?’ Billy looked around , waiting until the boy was alone before approaching him, he made his way over.
Stu knew him and they hang around a bit already before, but still Billy was shy. He stops as he stands in-front of Stu, Stu looking at him with his expecting eyes as he waits for Billy to say or do something. Billy moves his arm, pointing at Stu’s cast on his right forearm. Stu blinks as he looks at his cast and then where Billy is pointing at , before he speaks:
“Ooh… yeah I got a cast yesterday! I broke my arm” he says , voice chipper and unbothered. His smile wide as he moves his arm up to show off the cast to Billy.
“Pretty cool! People been drawing on it all morning and-“
Billy interrupts him as he speaks quietly, it probably wouldn’t have been heard over Stu talking but Stu reacted to it so quickly , immediately shutting up.
“Did it hurt?” Billy speaks with his quiet voice, not looking up at the boy.
Stu’s eyes wander as he musters Billy, before the smile reappears.
“No not really!” He says proudly.
Billy gives out a small huff as he stares at the cast, he hits his fist against it with a bit of force, making Stu squeal.
“Ow..” He mutters as he retracts his arm. Billy chuckles for a split second.
“So it did hurt! “ Billy says with a stronger voice than before , happy that he proved a point.
“Well yes if you hit it, it hurts! Ow…” Stu seems a bit hurt by the fact that Billy would just hit it like that. The two share some awkward silence for a while until Stu speaks again.
“Do you …want to sign it?”
Billy’s eyebrows furrow as he examines the poorly written on names and drawings on his cast. He seems to think about it before he nods. Stu takes out his sharpie as he lends it to Billy, who takes it and starts to scribble something on it. Stu is quiet as he watches Billy draw something on, a scrawly looking face. When he’s done he gives Stu back the pencil without further comment. Stu moves his arm closer so he can see what Billy drew.
“Woah you can draw! It kinda looks like that dude from that Halloween movie” he says as he smiles at Billy , who actually smiles back as he nods.
“Is it from the Movie?” Stu takes his nodding as a cue that’s Stu guessed right, even if it only was by chance (definitely did not look very much like Micheal Myers) since he watched that movie with his sister a few nights ago and had it on his mind ever since.
“Micheal Myers” the boy simply replies. Stu grins.
“I loved that movie !!” Stu exclaims.
That’s how Stu would learn the fact that Billy is obsessed with horror movies , making it his mission to watch them all behind his parents back in an attempt to get to know the quiet boy better.
I see them as being around 10 years old maybe? Had to think about it randomly so why not try and write it down, I always like writing but I never really think I’m good at it nor am I satisfied with it. There are probably so many grammar mistakes and all but still. I wish dyslexia would not exist :)
largely inspired (and the thought originally sparked) by @sharpth1ng fic Butterfly eater (hope it’s okay that I tagged you, don’t want to annoy you 🙇🏼♂️)
#scream 1996#stu macher#stuilly#scream#scream art#billy loomis#fanart#my art#scream fanart#ghostface#billy x stu#young billy loomis#young stu Macher#oneshot
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— trials of athena ; one
— genre ; enemies to lovers, kinda slow burn, friends to lovers
— warnings ; a hella lot of cursing, some typos ( of course 🙄😬 ), mature themes, smut, athena doesn’t like feelings, fluff, smut, angst, some violence, a teeny bit of blood and gore, JK’s a dick fr
— intro, teaser
— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter
— 2024 © LivelyPotter
— word count ; 2.2k
— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam
— chapter one ; THE FUCKENING
♡
MAY 21st, 2023
EIGHT AM
Today is going to be shit – or at least I came to that conclusion once I realized my day was suspiciously going a little too well.
For one, my family's all happy that we finally have a new neighbor (Mom's cooking up a feast already), my dad Sean finally got a day off (for the first time in what feels like forever), and my other dad Owen finally agreed to allow me to stay at the house on my own (For god's sake, I was nineteen years old and perfectly capable of taking care of myself).
I was confident I wouldn't burn the house down...well as long as I didn't step a toe inside the kitchen.
I inherited my father's gifts, you could say.
I cringed, thinking of the last incident when Mom allowed Dad and I inside the kitchen, unsupervised.
By that time, the entire fire department knew us by name.
Plus, it was Monday (of all days) and you know that saying, 'Happy Monday – let the fuckening commence'.
So yeah, my hopes were now low, and my guard was up.
"Mom," I snickered, "I may act as like I know everything, but I really don't."
My mom, Sang rolled her eyes – an amused grin on her lips as she placed the final touches on her big ass welcome basket. My dad Sean grinned brightly and pressed a kiss to her cheek once he sauntered inside the kitchen.
"Mornin' smartass." Dad lit up the spacious kitchen with his laughter when I swatted his hand out of my hair, that happened to be the exact same shade and texture as his. As in I got his unruly, nappy curls. I gingerly touched my hair, praying he didn't mess it up.
I loathed frizzy hair.
Dad chuckled lowly and pressed a kiss to the top of my curls, "Where's the others?" he asked Mom, pulling out a chair and taking a seat beside me. Mom ran a hand over her chameleon-colored hair and smiled.
"They all left an hour ago to run errands before the trip."
I was left in my own world as Mom and Dad discussed their trip with the others. They were leaving for a couple months to travel around Europe, while also doing a couple of missions for the academy. I, on the other hand, would finally know what it's like to be on my own. Not completely, of course (Gran and Gramps lived across the street), but close enough to where I would have to be independent for a while.
My ears perked up when I heard Mom ask Dad about the new neighbor.
"There's not much to know about him, really." Dad said around a mouthful of his pancakes. My face scrunched in disgust as a piece flew out of his mouth.
"Manners, dude." I put in, laughing. Dad rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at me.
Mom sighed at our banter and shook her head, "What is there to know about him?"
I loved my mom dearly, but she sure was nosey sometimes.
Dad shrugged, "The Johnsons down the street say he's not really approachable, but Liddy Johnson—"
"Linda's daughter?" Mom asked, receiving a nod.
"The very same – well Linda and Joe said Liddy's absolutely infatuated by the man, says this JK dude is the 'hottest man' she's ever seen." He snickered, "The girl has been walking up and down the street hoping to bump into him again."
Huh, that explains why I've been seeing that girl outside so much today.
Mom's eyebrow rose, "Well," she hummed, standing to her feet and smoothing the wrinkles out of her shirt, "Athena?" she said suddenly, a little too sweetly.
I drew back slightly, "...yeah?" I asked suspiciously, eyeing her distrustfully.
What does she have planned this time?
Mom looked like the picture of innocence as she took the basket into arms and set it down in front of me. "I'm entrusting you to take this to our new neighbor."
Uh, what?
"Huh?" I asked dumbly, index finger pointed towards my body.
Mom and Dad traded amused glances, "Yes, you." Mom said decisively. My eyebrows shot up, near my hairline (yes, that's how far they shot up).
"Why me?" I asked, "I don't like new people." And not to mention, I usually make a fool of myself in front of strangers without meaning to.
Mom rolled her eyes, "You have to go out and make friends somehow, Athena...And maybe even a boyfriend. Liddy says he's cute." She wiggled her brows suggestively. My face dropped, along with my shoulders.
"Liddy Johnson thinks any male that makes direct eye contact with her is cute." I spoke. Dad's hand shot up to his mouth to hide his snicker.
"I'm sure that's not true," Mom huffed, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Wanna bet?" I raised a brow, Mom matched my expression and nodded.
"Fine; you remember Jake Roberts?" Mom grimaced instantly, thinking of Greg's (one of her old schoolmates) son. "Well, then I won't have to explain the whole story...but I will say this..." I sighed, "His face gives me nightmares to this day." I cringed, thinking of him hitting on me at one of Lindy's parties back in high school.
"Fine," She sighed, "you have a point. But still, give it a chance. You'll never know if you don't do it. Please?" she said, cradling my face in her hands.
My resolve slowly crumbled, "Fine," I sighed with a small pout, "but I announce that my hopes are low." I mumbled jumping to my feet.
I was nervous – one: is that I was a born introvert and two: what is he was actually attractive? I always and I mean always make a fool of myself in front of cute guys.
One of the reasons why I've never had a boyfriend...or a first kiss.
I'm pathetic, I know. No need to rub it in.
I looked down at my simple oversized black shirt and shorts and shrugged. It looked good enough. Mom handed me my white nike air forces and urged me to put them on.
I sighed and pushed my hair back and tied on my shoes.
"If this goes horribly wrong – I'm blaming both of you."
My words caused them to laugh.
Mom put the basket in my hands and smoothed my curls away from my face.
"You will be fine, Athena. I doubt it will go wrong. Now be nice and smile brightly, okay?"
"Okay." I slumped my shoulders and dragged my feet towards the door, feeling my heartbeat quicken. "If I'm not back in five minutes, call the po-po." I called once I opened the door.
The last thing I heard was their loud, cackling laughter before the door shut.
I took in a trembling breath, "You got this, Athena. Don't be a pussy." I mumbled to myself, carefully taking the steps one by one. I looked at the house next door and swallowed hard.
The new neighbor's house was actually a really nice one, and huge. With a huge wrap around porch, three bay windows side by side on the second floor, and a ginormous pool in the backyard that's hidden away from sight.
If you're wondering how I know about the pool, it's simple.
Last summer, I was bored and snuck over and climbed over the tall ass wooden fence with my best friend Sawyer Weiland. It was in the middle of the night, so...we were lucky as heck not to have had triggered the alarms.
That was the first and the last time I ever had enough nerve to do that. Sawyer called me a pussy, but at least I wasn't a dumb fuck in jail.
In no time, I was standing at the neighbor's front door, biting down on my lip. Before I could convince myself to leave, my finger pressed the doorbell. Once the sound rung out, loud barking sounded out from on the other side.
Ah shit.
That didn't sound like a nice dog.
You know, for some reason I never believed my dad when he told me you can tell the difference between the temperament of the dog by the bark (sometimes), but now if I survived leaving this place, I'd apologize to Kota.
I swallowed harshly, pushing back the urge to flee.
"Bam! Shush!" A melodic male voice said on the other side of the door, calming the beast down. My ears perked up at the deep, soothing sound of this stranger's voice.
I wasn't prepared for what I was about to see. I came face to face with the most gorgeous torso covered in tattoos and – holy crackers are those abs? In real life?
Sweet daughter of Zeus!
My eyes slowly trailed off his tattooed covered chest, up his muscular neck – which to no one's surprised, was tattooed, past his perfect sharp jawline, adorable lips – I noted that his bottom lip was plumper than his top and had two silver hoops pierced through it, from his adorable nose, and finally to his dark doe eyes...which were currently dark and glaring right into my very soul.
Holy smokes.
For once in her fuckin' life, Liddy Johnson wasn't overreacting. At all.
This man was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen in my life.
He couldn't be real.
No freaking joke.
I couldn't even lie about it.
I flushed bright red, and flushed more because I knew I was blushing.
(I was a sight to see, when I blushed, anyone from ten feet away could see. I never failed to turn cherry red).
"Um, h-hi." I spluttered, backing away slightly as he glared harder.
This gorgeous being, that I didn't even believe could have come from earth didn't look happy. He just looked downright pissed.
I shrunk back meekly.
Athena Green meek? I'd never been classified as meek a day in my life, but a glare from this man had me losing any ounce of courage and confidence I had in myself.
He was more terrifying than Owen Blackbourne, and that was saying something.
"I-I'm Athena G-Green." I swallowed, "I, uh, I live next door and my mom asked me to d-drop this off to y-you. T-to, uh, welcome you to Sunny V-vale C-court."
I decided the moment I entered my house; I'd beat the fuck out of my face. Why, just why did I have to act like a fool, and mention my mom? Gods, I was so lame.
During my stuttering, the man sighed heavily, looking annoyed and leaned against his doorframe, peering at his nail beds as he waited for me to finish.
"You done?" he asked boredly, in his musical voice.
I flushed heavily and nodded quickly. I had never been so embarrassed in my life.
My hands trembled as I thrust the basket in my arms and waited for him to take it, a sweet wavering smile on my lips.
He raised a dark brow, pursing his lips and stepped away from the door looking hotter than the sun and crossed his arms across his bare torso. He towered over my short stature and bore his glaring eyes into mine.
"Thanks for stopping by." He smiled sarcastically and then shut the door in my face.
My jaw dropped at his audacity.
This motherfuck— I stopped myself mid-thought once a hiss left my lips.
Calm, Athena. Be calm.
I gained control of my emotions and clenched my teeth – seeing Liddy Johnson watching me with a sad smile, as if she understood what I was going through, as if it happened it her, which it probably did.
Anger rose within my chest until the point where I was shaking. I dropped the basket on his welcome mat (internally hoping there was something glass or some legos in the basket so he would step on it barefoot) and stalked away from his door.
"That rude, disrespectful piece of dung." I huffed, hands clenched tightly as I neared my house, bypassing Liddy.
I stormed inside my house and slammed the door shut.
"Athena!" Mom rushed in with a large smile on her face – quickly followed by Dad. They both froze as they took in my twitching eye – a tic that I had ever since I could remember that happened every time I was angry. My red face was another piece of the puzzle.
"I'm taking it didn't go well?" she asked slowly, approaching me with caution.
"It didn't!" I howled loudly, "That piece of dung shut the door in my face when I offered him the basket. Stupid fuckin’ weenier.”
Mom reared back at my anger and tried to smother her smile as Dad openly laughed at my rage.
"Was he good looking, by any chance?" Dad called after me as I stomped up the stairs.
"His ugly personality ruins his face and his body that looks like it was created by the gods!" I seethed, eyes twitching as they laughed once more.
"So...he is?" Mom asked hopefully. Infinity times yes.
I stared at her and shook my head.
"He looks like a dickwad." I retorted dryly.
I knew it was too good to be true; the fuckening had commenced.
author’s note ; ✨
I love Athena and her personality so much, lmfaoo. This is the start of a “crazy fuckin’ ride”, as Athena would say. Buckle up and delve into Athena’s story!
If you want to be apart of the taglist, just lemme know! Thanks so much for reading!
#jeon jungkook#bts fanfic#jungkook x oc#wattpad#bts jungkook#jeon jungguk#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook x original character#jungkook angst#jungkook au#jungkook aesthetic#bts jungguk#bts junkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook is coming#enemies to lovers#hello neighbor
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even after all these years
pairing: Eddie Munson x reader
summary: based on the prompt “i take my little sibling to their school’s halloween carnival and you’re one of the volunteers/workers there and you’re super cute” but slightly different
warnings: light swearing, bats
a/n: is it even legal to finally be posting a halloween fic in december? let’s pretend it is and i’m not criminally late with it! but in my defense, i started writing this before halloween and then just never finished it </3
navigation + taglist
Eddie didn’t want to be here. Now don’t get him wrong, he liked Halloween just as much as the next person, but being around all these people that were ready to hunt him down and burn him at the stake just months ago, who were now pretending like it never happened, just didn’t tickle his fancy.
But Dustin and Steve were very adamant on him coming with them, and as much as he wanted to decline, he couldn’t.
So now here he was, shuffling behind his friends as they wandered around the Hawkins High parking lot that had been converted into a makeshift Halloween carnival, trying his best to ignore the stares and whispers aimed his way.
Eddie was no stranger to them, but these were different. He wasn’t just a freak, he was a so called “murderer”. Even though his name had been cleared a long time ago.
“Dude, you look like you’re about to piss yourself. Relax.” Steve’s voice drew him out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking to the brown haired boy currently raising a brow at him. “You’re fine, Munson.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever.” Eddie muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket sulkily.
Dustin cast a glance back at him, frowning when he saw the older boy kicking a rock down the gravel path, much more interested in the toes of his dirty sneakers than anything else around him. He felt bad for dragging Eddie here when he obviously wasn’t having any fun, but it was good for him to get out more. He’d barely left Steve’s house at all the past seven months, only managing to drag himself to Hellfire meetings and to give Dustin an occasional ride home from school.
“Hey, you wanna come with me to get my face painted?” Dustin asked excitedly, making his way back to tug on Eddie’s sleeve with a grin. “I was thinking like a huge spiderweb, straight across my cheek. Pretty badass, don’t you think?”
“I guess.” Eddie shrugged, instantly feeling guilt pool in his stomach when he saw Dustin’s shoulders slump. So he tried his best to remedy it by plastering a smile on his face, clapping him on the back and pulling him closer by the collar of his jacket. “That does sound real badass, Henderson. Lead the way.”
Dustin perked right back up, launching into a mindless ramble about some species of spider that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to all that much as they made their way through the crowds of kids and parents to the face painting table. Immediately plunking into a free chair across from one of the Hawkins High science teachers, Dustin started talking again, probably forgetting that Eddie had come with him.
Eddie, on the other hand, was about ready to ditch him, since he was getting a few weird looks as he just stood in the middle of the array of tables awkwardly.
“Hey, I know you. You’re—”
“Yeah, yeah, Eddie the freak, satanic worshipper, murderer, yada, yada,” He grumbled, deciding to slouch over into another flimsy plastic chair with his arms crossed over his chest to get out of people’s way, barely hastening you a glance before focusing his scowl on the worn out knees of his jeans.
“Uh…okay. That’s not what I was thinking of though.” You frowned. “Hawkins middle school debate team, sixth grade.”
Eddie’s eyes snapped up, widening in horror at the sight of you. You, out of all the people he could’ve snapped at.
He remembered you, and he definitely remembered that year. The year he went to live with his uncle, which then turned into two, then three, then the rest of his life.
He’d been having trouble adjusting to being moved around so much, so he’d started acting out. Arguing with teachers, interrupting class randomly, cutting school, the whole nine yards. Apparently, he was so good at arguing with authority figures, they decided to stick him on the debate team as punishment. But honestly, it wasn’t so much of a punishment when he realized that you were also on the debate team.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed with the brightest of smiles, you were Eddie’s first crush. You were one of the only people who didn’t treat him like a total freak, sitting with him during debate practices and talking to him when no one else would, even going so far as to share your snacks with him. You never brushed him off or called him a weirdo, and you’d even kicked Tommy H in the nuts one time when he made a dig at Eddie’s clothes.
So when you moved out of Hawkins, he was pretty bummed. But now you were back, and he still felt the same butterflies in his stomach right now that he did back when he was twelve.
“What was that about being a murderer?” You tilted your head at him in confusion, to which he shook his head quickly.
“Nothing! I’m not—my name was cleared, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t murder anyone!” He tugged at the collar of his jacket awkwardly, half expecting you to shoot him a weird look.
But you just smiled, laughing a little bit. “That’s always good. Hi, Eddie.”
“Hi,” Eddie said sheepishly, holding up a ringed hand in greeting. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“Yeah, I’ve only been here for a couple weeks…” You trailed off, fiddling with your paintbrush. Hoping I’d magically run into you somehow, you wanted to add. But you didn’t. “I like your hair. Much better than the buzzcut.”
Eddie’s hand flew to his unruly curls, trying his best to smooth them down even the tiniest bit. You remembered what his hair looked like? More importantly, you remembered him?
“Oh, uh, thanks. I like your hair too.” His words came out in an awkward jumble that you just beamed even brighter at, eyes crinkling at the corners. I like your hair too? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
You didn’t seem to think it was stupid. “You’re sweet. How’ve you been? What’ve you been up to?”
Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What had he accomplished since the last time he saw you?
He’d become a drug dealer, started a club that everyone thought promoted Satanic worship, been accused for multiple gruesome murders, almost died in Hawkins the horror dimension, came back, and was now even more of a loser freak than he’d already been.
“Uh, not much. Nothing too interesting.” He mumbled. “So…what, uh, what brings you back here?”
“My grandparents’ house was damaged in that earthquake back in March and they came to live with us right after, so we’re just here trying to…hopefully salvage some stuff, maybe see if we can fix it up.” You shrugged, waving your brush around aimlessly. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s too much we can do, that was a pretty intense quake.” Eddie didn’t mean to, but he flinched a bit at your mention of the quake, seeing as what really happened was so much worse than a natural disaster.
You noticed, instantly scrambling to rectify your statement with flaming cheeks. “I mean, obviously, you knew that, you lived through it. Sorry, that was really insensitive of me, I don’t—”
“It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shook his head quickly, brushing it off. “I’m—I’m okay.” I nearly got eaten alive by demon bats from hell, but I’m okay. Obviously he couldn’t tell you that. Not only would he sound absolutely insane, but it would definitely scare you off, which is something he really didn’t want.
“Right, well, anyways—” You started, but were cut off by a cleared throat from a quite severe looking woman with a clipboard standing a few feet away, who was aiming a very pointed looking glare in your direction. Leaning in a little closer, your nose wrinkled in distaste, voice hushed so as to not draw her attention even more. “That’s my supervisor. She thinks I talk too much, paint too little.”
“Supervisor? Aren’t you a volunteer?” Eddie whispered, brows furrowing.
You shrugged. “Apparently this whole carnival thing is super serious this year.”
“Uh huh, because painting pumpkins on kids’ faces is such a serious thing.”
“According to her, it’s pretty much the most serious thing in the whole history of serious things.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
You had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter, such a simple act that still sent a shot of warmth through Eddie’s chest. It also garnered the attention from your supervisor, whose angry steps quickly spurred you back to business as usual.
“And what would you like painted on your face today, Eddie?”
His lips quirked into a miniscule smile at your sudden forced enthusiastic tone, which brought a flush to your cheeks.
“Sorry,” You apologized sheepishly. “Too teacher-y?”
“I’d say just enough teacher-y.” He observed, nodding thoughtfully. “Reminds me of Mrs. Paulson from middle school. Y’know, the old lady who always smelled like pepperoni.”
“Pepperoni Paulson, I remember her,” You nodded as well, then squinted at him suspiciously. “Wasn’t she arrested for public intoxication a few years ago?”
“Yeah. I stand by my point.”
You let out a noise of indignance, eyebrows creasing and nose wrinkling in such an adorable way that Eddie almost felt the need to turn tail and run.
“Okay, asshole, what do you want painted on you?” You huffed playfully, poking his arm with the pointy end of the brush in your hand.
Eddie scratched at his nose. “Eh, I dunno. Surprise me.”
“You sure you wanna give me free reign after that smug comment? Might just draw a dick on your face to be funny.”
He couldn’t help it. A snorting laugh fell from his lips at how utterly serious you looked as you dipped the brush into the colorful array of paint in front of you.
You were the first person outside his friends not to tiptoe around him like he was about to snap at any second. Maybe it was because you had no idea what had really happened in Hawkins, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t used to it, but he liked it. He really liked it.
Both Steve and Dustin’s heads whipped around at the sound of Eddie’s laughter, regarding each other with identical wide eyed stares before gawking over at him. They hadn’t heard him laugh in months. They didn’t even know he still could laugh.
But there he was, sitting at the face painting booth across from you, head tipped back, shoulders shaking, looking…happy.
Eddie, on the other hand, felt like he was about to spontaneously combust at your close proximity—your fingers gripping his chin to keep him still, the delicate swipe of your brush across his cheek, your knees wedged between his own to get the right angle for steady strokes. How you radiated vanilla and cinnamon and the kind of warmth that spread through his own body with every carefully controlled breath he took.
To make matters worse, your tongue poked out from between your lips in pure concentration, something Eddie realized you had in common. Though he probably wasn’t as cute when he did it.
His gaze bounced around, focusing on anywhere else, anything else but you.
“You look kinda uncomfortable right now, Eddie,” You said softly, your breath a barely there puff of air across his skin that still had goosebumps raising on his arms. “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?”
“No, I’m—I’m good! It’s just…cold out today.” He finished lamely, fingers fiddling with the rips in his pants.
“It is.” You concurred, smiling softly. “I gotta say, I definitely haven’t missed Hawkins in that area.”
Hawkins has definitely missed you, Eddie thought. Okay, maybe not Hawkins. Just me.
The paint on his cheek was cold too, but it did nothing to quell the flame of his cheeks to rosy red the more he realized that twelve year old Eddie would give anything to be where he was right now. Hell, even himself from a few months ago would’ve had an aneurysm if he knew that he actually had the chance to talk to you again.
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, jerking him back to reality. “Alright, take a look, tell me what you think.” You passed him a small mirror, leaning back in your seat. “You can tell me if you hate it. I’ll just go curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment.”
“I won’t hate it, I promise. I—” He glanced in the mirror, stopping mid-sentence when he saw what you’d created oh so carefully. A flurry of tiny bats scattered across his cheek, the black paint a stark contrast to his pale skin.
“Oh my god, you hate it!” You moaned, hiding your face behind your hands.
“I don’t!”
“You so do!”
“Y/N, I promise I don’t hate it. See, look,” He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket hastily to reveal a similar grouping of bats tattooed on his forearm. “More bats.”
The scars marring his torso and chest twinged, not out of pain, but as a reminder. Bats. Obviously, he couldn’t tell you the real reason why he wasn’t too fond of bats, but he’d sooner face the Upside Down again than tell you he hated what you’d done.
“Oh, okay. Good. Because I was afraid I just blew my chance at impressing you after all these years.”
“You—you wanted to impress me?” He asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowing.
“‘Course I did. Feels a little late to admit this, but I totally had a crush on you in middle school.”
“You did?”
“I did. I was even thinking about telling you before I left, but it just…didn’t feel right, y’know? Dropping such a big thing and then bailing?”
“Y/N, you moved away, that’s not bailing.” Eddie shook his head, then inhaled a sharp breath. “I—I actually liked you too. And I wanted to tell you back then, but then you…y’know, moved, and I thought I’d lost my chance.”
It suddenly felt a lot harder to breathe, but you managed to utter your next words despite it. “But now I’m back.”
“Now you’re back,” He repeated. “You’re back, and I get another one.” His hand came down on your knee, the warmth of his palm sending a different kind of warmth to your cheeks. “I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped. I actually think it got worse—no, not worse! Liking you was never a bad thing, it was a really good thing. It has been a really good thing, I just—I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, and now that I have, I…am totally rambling, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to—”
“Eddie—”
“—overload you with my feelings, I just felt like it was something I should tell you, since—”
“Eddie,” You repeated, your hand blanketing his on your jeans. “Stop talking.” His mouth snapped shut immediately, brown eyes wide. “I still like you too.”
“You…you do?” You nodded. “Even after all these years?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a soft smile.
“Even after all these years.” You echoed, tapping along the rings adorning his knuckles. His fingers twitched, aching to entwine with yours, but he was afraid that he might be hallucinating right now. There was no way in hell you felt the same way, now or ever. He wanted to pinch himself, but he felt it might be weird.
You could tell by the way his mouth dropped open the slightest bit that the cogs in his mind were working overdrive, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Eddie. Feel free to stop me.”
Eddie wasn’t going to stop you. He’d never even dream about it.
When your lips touched his, he could swear that he was dreaming—that any second now, he’d wake up in his own bed, back to the reality where this whole thing never happened. Where you were still god knows where, miles and miles away from Hawkins, probably not even paying him any mind at all.
This time, he really did pinch himself, and he was beyond pleased to realize that this was real, that you were in fact here, kissing him, right now. He leaned forward into you, one hand sliding around the back of your neck while the other cupped your cheek tenderly. Yours came up to grip at his biceps, fingers curling into the worn leather of his sleeves as if you were securing him place, making sure that he couldn’t slip away the way he did all those years ago.
And when his hands moved down to your chair to drag you a little bit closer, you took that chance to take his face in yours, tracing the curve of his jaw lightly as his mouth moved against yours eagerly.
Both of you seemed to realize that you were in a public place with lots of people around at the same time, pulling away from each other swollen lipped and a little breathless, but still with identical stupid grins on your faces.
“Oh no,” You pouted, holding up your hand for him to see the splotches of black paint smudging your fingertips. “I ruined my hard work.”
“Looks like you’re just gonna have to do them all over again.”
“Looks like it.”
“Can I make a request though?” You raised an eyebrow at his sheepish turned suspiciously giddy grin. “No more bats.”
“I knew you hated them, you asshole!”
“I said I didn’t hate them! They’re really good, but bats are just…not my thing.”
“Says the boy with the bat tattoo.”
Cocking his head to the side, Eddie ignored you, instead opting to lean in and kiss you again, and of all the ways he could’ve changed the subject, this was by far the best.
Eddie had never been so grateful for his friends’ constant pestering and dragging him everywhere he didn’t want to go, because it led him back to you, the one that got away. Twelve year old Eddie knew it was you, current day Eddie knew it was you, and now you knew it too.
He’d thank Steve and Dustin later when he had the time, but not now. Eddie was too busy planning out all the things he wanted to say to you and do with you before his luck turned and you were gone again. Though if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think you’re planning on leaving anytime soon.
Neither are you. No way in hell were you thinking about leaving when coming back to Hawkins got you paint smudged fingers, some closure, and finally Eddie Munson.
Even after all these years.
taglist!
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#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#guess what bitch is writing fic instead of writing a paper#spoiler alert: it's me i'm the bitch#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson imagine#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic
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okay so. overall review:
actually not as bad as i expected it to be! and not as bad as i thought it was going to turn out while i was in the trenches there lol. i still wished it focused a little more on eddie's home life/relationship with his dad and uncle AND his friends, and had way less of the romance stuff (read: none), BUT i will admit that there ended up being a lot less of the romance stuff than i initially expected and a lot less than it seemed like there would be while still in the middle of the book.
the paige stuff still made me uncomfy bc i didn't like the power dynamics there (paige had something eddie wanted desperately, and i don't like the idea that that could have had something to do with his "feelings" for her/why he engaged with them ((esp bc let's be real — he didn't seem super torn up over not getting to be with her in the end)) or that she used that to her advantage bc there was ALSO something in it for her) BUT i will say they did make it slightly less skeezy than i expected bc she was only a couple years older than him instead of like. significantly older like i expected.
i do wish there was more about eddie's friends and their fallout and reconciliation. his friends were super important to him and he just. dropped them. like that. and there was BARELY any blowback. like yeah there was a fight with ronnie, but we never actually got to see the reactions of any of the other hellfire/corroded coffin guys, and i would've liked to see that. same with the reconciliation, it felt very minimal — i would've liked to see more of how that played out too.
I LOVED EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN SECOND OF WAYNE MUNSON CONTENT, THAT MAN IS A GIFT HE IS AN ANGEL I ADORE HIM WITH EVERYTHING IN ME. IF THERE IS ONE THING THIS BOOK HAS DONE IT HAS SOLIDIFIED MY STANCE THAT WAYNE MUNSON IS THE BEST GOD DAMN CHARACTER AND I WOULD DIE FOR HIM.
as for eddie — i think the author did an alright job finding his voice. there were times where i thought she really nailed it, but there were also A LOT of times where i thought "he would never say that!!" "he would never do that!!". it wasn't very consistent, but overall it wasn't awful and there were some good parts!
the other characters we know and love that made cameos — VERY fun to see them (gareth, chrissy, jason, hopper, will, jonathan!!!) gareth was ESPECIALLY fun to see because they really embraced that feral chihuahua boy energy we love to assign to him. BUT. i am SO incredibly upset with how badly they massacred my boy tommy h (whOSE LAST NAME THEY COULDNT EVEN GET RIGHT I MEAN W H A T!?) they fucking. got his characterization SO BAD. it was awful. i am. personally offended by it (joking, mostly rhsjsi). (as a tommy lover i am. devastated tho. HE WOULD NOT DO THAT!!!)
OH ALSO — reefer rick. WHAT a fun dude. hes out here in his robe and bunny slippers drinking darjeeling tea, living it up. what a guy.
id like to give a huge FUCK YOU to principal higgins too! they made that dude a straight up MONSTER. he was unnecessarily CRUEL and some of the things he said straight up to eddies face,,,,,,, sir what the FUCK. i know the 80s was a different time but jesus fucking cHRIST was casual cruelty and bullying from grown ass ADULTS commonplace? i sure hope not.
ALSO FUCK AL MUNSON LIVES ALL MY HOMIES HATE AL MUNSON LIVES. that man was AWFUL, TRULY HONESTLY GENUINELY THE WORST. neglectful and cruel and downright AWFUL. NOT ONLY DID HE CONSISTENTLY ABANDON EDDIE THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE BUT THEN HE DREW EDDIE INTO HIS SCHEMES, CONNED HIM, FUCKED UP REAL BIG, AND THEN LEFT EDDIE IN THE ASHES OF THEIR — OF HIS — HOME AS THE ONLY PERSON LEFT WITH THE COP WHO GOT SHOT AND IS LIKE SLOWLY BLEEDING OUT. TALK ABOUT FUCKING TRAUMA WHAT THE FUCK. i hope he got flayed ALIVE by charlie greene lmao it would serve him right that absolute twat waffle.
also, im gonna be real. the end of that book was actually INSANELY depressing. like, it tried to be positive because you gotta end on a positive note right? but it just fell. COMPLETELY flat. bc we all know what happens to eddie in canon. he's sitting there reenrolling in school, peacoking around about how he's GOING to finish high school and he's GOING to graduate and he's GOING to show principal higgins that he CAN do it and that he ISNT the fuckup deliquent he's convinced he is. BUT WE ALL KNOW HE DOESNT FUCKING GET THAT IN CANON. he's taking waynes advice and fully embracing who he is and he's learning to be comfortable in his own skin and to rise above all the noise of people who don't like him and think he's a freak. ONLY WE KNOW HE NEVER TRULY GETS TO DO THAT EITHER BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW HOW IT ENDS IN CANON. so yeah it just ends up being a REALLY fucking BLEAK ending because all of that "positivity" is absolutely tainted. it's fucking soured. and i am once again INSANELY INFURIATED about eddies death. so fuck the duffers, again.
also, eddie munson literally never caught a fucking break. not one fucking break. his ENTIRE life was just one series of tragedies after the other and it truly just continued on that way until he fucking died. honestly, its a goddamn MIRACLE that he has ANY ounce of positivity and optimism and hope left in his life when we get to him in s4. thatd how utter dogshit a hand he has been dealt in life. and it only.got worse from there. and i will NEVER forgive ANYONE involved in his creation for that.
so yeah! that concludes my journey reading flight of icarus. it was a wild ride lol.
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Analysis of how KaySD draws Sergey Razumovsky
Or: trying to justify a thirstpost about the world's most terrible man
Sergey's gone through a number of artists through the years, and I gotta say, KaySD's rendition has captured my heart. In fact, it was a screenshot of Kay's Sergey that first got me into Major Grom. While Phob's is the official art style that we associate with the comics, Kay's style, I believe, better serves Sergey's character in the current PD run.
Genre-wise, PD returns to being a big-action, ensemble comic, which--compared to The Game's tight conflict and human drama focus--deliberately implements Kay's more traditionally comic-book style to this effect. The first arc (nine volumes in total) of PD are all Kay; though the current issues are being outsourced to a number of different artists now, Kay's style--with its roots in distinctly American superhero comics, such as DC--was what they wanted to prime audience's expectations with. After Time of the Raven, there was a big push for Bubble to adhere their stories to big names like Marvel, and with that came the desire to usher in things like a multiverse, space and supernatural elements, and franchise crossovers. Plague Doctor was one of their latest installments of that new "culture," and they had to match their aesthetics appropriately.
Okay, but that brings me back to the brainrot part of this post, which is HOT DAMN KAY'S SERGEY LOOKS SICK???
The whole idea of Plague Doctor is that, for like seven years or something, Sergey has been declared dead or missing or otherwise MIA. Nobody, both in-universe and irl, knows where he is or what the fuck he's up to. You crack open issue 1, encounter a guy in sunglasses and a hat who is painfully obviously Sergey, but you get to the last page and
(I will say this is probably the most unflattering frame of him. His chin makes him look like such a chad derogatory)
BAM. HOMEBOY IS ROCKING A NEW HAIRCUT, HE'S WEARING ANOTHER STUPID PURPLE SUIT, HE'S RIPPED, AND HE HAS BLUE EYES.
This isn't the soft, sort of angelically beautiful Sergey we're used to seeing from Phobs. It's radically different, an entirely different character almost, which was the intent.
His new look is more practical, both tactically and socially. His hair is cut, so people won't recognize him as easily. It won't get in his face or get grabbed during fights, and combined with his more muscled build, this is a Sergey who's taking things more seriously this time around. Gone is the flamboyant cape and swishing fiery locks; the plague doctor campaign is no longer a passion, but a duty. And he's ready to enter the thunderdome and get his hands dirty and god damn it, he will die trying.
Kay does take care to preserve the core elements of Phob's Sergey, while making a hard left into traditional masc territory. He's still unrealistically attractive, in that distinctly soft and youthful way. He's more noticeably fit but still maintains a slim, smooth appearance.
But on top of that, he adds this charm and charisma to him that is distinctly boyish (as in, young and mischievous, a pretty face that's up to no good). It makes his persona as a young, leftist radical more believable; he looks like a student revolutionaire, angry and passionate about all issues topical and trending.
He does look more obviously aged. Guy is now in his mid(?) thirties, and the past five years probably amounted to like three lifetimes of stress, so it certainly makes sense. Compared to how Kay drew The Game Sergey, his face is more defined with sharper lines, muscularity, and wrinkles. The short hair also ages him somewhat, making him look less angelic and more like... a regular dude.
And of course, there's the overnight peach fuzz.
The more mature, aged look helps him actually look like a person who's lived a life as loaded and fucked up as Sergey's. He's a guy whose parents died, grew up in foster care, became a CEO that rocketed to stardom in five years, committed the most elaborate fucked up terrorist campaign ever, and then immediately fell from fame to the deepest coldest cell in St Petersburg (and this is all just the OG Major Grom run). He's not Phob's Sergey (or Rag, whoever it was in The Game)--a blameless childish pretty boy who's detached from his crimes. Kay does a good job in making Sergey have this subtle undertone of... unsettled, unhinged, what have you. I don't know how much of this is hindsight bias, but he looks like a guy with a fucked up secret. You wouldn't think twice if you were seeing him in a grocery store or something but I can imagine later recognizing his mugshot on the news and thinking wow now that i think about it, he really does look like a serial killer.
And let's talk about his fashion. For all the features of Sergey's flamboyant costumes in Phob's renditions, Kay dresses him quite casually, and it works, ironically, to make him look deceptively plain in the way all extremely rich people dress (think of the $10k white t-shirts and sunglasses get-up all rich men wear). He dresses like his current social stature: a new-money sod who has gotten used to his wealth enough that he doesn't have to show off with his clothes anymore. Of course, this could also be turned on its head and instead, be an indication of Sergey's original, cheap clothes that he habited from his childhood. Certainly, the ironic rightwing graphic tees Kay puts him in edge towards that point of view, only now they're colored by Sergey's sense of political humor. I doubt a "god guns government" shirt is selling for $500 at some luxury tailor shop.
This is what I love about Kay's Sergey. In making him look more human, we get to orient him more organically into our own world. He looks like a thirty year old loser who studied CS in college and now commits cyber terrorism and doesn't know how to cook. He looks like a young adult leftist who is terminally online and has 500+ open tabs on Marxist theory. He looks like a guy who became too rich too young, who was the world's angle and then its devil in the span of like two years, and is now disillusioned with it all, who wears $5 graphic tees and stays up all night looking behind his back and tries desperately to find something that actually matters.
Once Sergey looks more believable, he becomes more understandable. And the more we understand him, the more the story has the potential to make him intrigue and surprise and reach us in multiple, unexpected ways.
#not as expansive as I wanted but I wanted to get The Thoughts out#major grom#plague doctor#sergey razumovsky#bubble comics
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