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dronebiscuitbat · 13 hours

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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 17)

Aside from their new third. The night went rather similarly to how it normally would, Uzi had brought over several more movies for them to go through over the next few days. Pretty much resigning herself into cooping herself up in N's apartment while she was playing the part of Tera's live in nanny.

And currently, they were trying to choose which one to start with, N digging around the pile of disks as she laid with Tera, keeping the little one curled slightly under her arm so that there would be no more rolling away.

“N oh my robo-god just choose!” She laughed in faux irritation, not loud enough to wake the baby but definitely loud enough for N to pout back at her.

“But all of these are scary!” He pointed out, lifting up several of the boxes to reveal the graphic covers, Uzi just giggled mischievously.

“Dude we deal with way scarier stuff. Nothing compares to centipede J.” She replied, rolling her eyes at his second pout, adjusting the charge cord still sticking out of her like it would make any difference in her comfort.

“I guess…” He picked the one that had the least terrifying cover and popped it into the player, watching as the beginning credits zipped across the screen.

“What one did you pick?” She asked, head tilting to the side, small smile on her face.

“Uh… I didn't look at the title, just the cover.”

“Oooh~ Roulette.”

He didn't quite like the sound of that… were all of these the same level of terrifying? Was it like a “choose how you want to get traumatized” thing?

He settled onto the couch, holding his tail in his hands as Uzi focused entirely on the screen, well, her eyes were focused on the screen, the other hand was subconsciously petting the droneling snuggled next to her, still solidly in sleep mode.

Still being amazing at this, without even trying.

As the movie started the tension that had settled over N slowly unwound, this was… fine. A little creepy sure, but Uzi was right, it was tame in comparison to the genuine terror they'd already experienced, although the stakes being your life instead of a passive observer probably helped.

“Where… are they going? Why are they separating off from the rest of the group?” He asked as the main couple snuck off together, hand in hand, as one of the other characters was explaining that they should probably stick together, because something creepy was going on.

“To make out.” Uzi smirked, literally all these horror movies were exactly the same, teenagers were dumb… even in real life.

“Now?!” He asked incredulously, the entire group had just witnessed movement outside the house they were staying in, and they decide to leave? To kiss?

“Love is always the best decision.” She quoted him, and he felt his own words come slapping him in the face, that had felt so long ago now…

“That was an entirely different scenario, that was romantic, this- this is dumb.” He defended, watching as the couple went outside their relatively safe cabin leaving it unlocked so they could get back in. And went off into the woods in the middle of the night.

“They deserve this.” He mumbled to himself, and he half meant it, not only were they dumb, but complete assholes to the rest of their “freinds” that were totally going to get murdered.

Uzi cackled at his reaction, trying to muffled it after Tera stirred, thankfully she didn't wake up.

“Honestly yeah…” Uzi admitted watching as the camera followed the couple through the forest, the undergrowth getting deeper, darker, and way more thick around them, not that they seemed to notice.

“Immoral makeout sesh. Check.” Uzi hummed and N just shook his head.

“Seriously, what's so great about it that it's seen as this important? Rebecca and Darren did this too…” He was honestly talking more to himself then to Uzi, but once he realized he was referencing camp. He shut his mouth instantly.

“Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring… that up.”

“It's fine.” She still had a smile on her face, and it wasn't a forced one; he knew what that looked like. It was a little pained, but it looked like she wasn't so effected by it anymore.

“Some people get turned on by danger?” She suggested, breezing right past whatever perceived mistake he'd made and barreling right into a dumb joke.

“Uzi!” He found himself blushing at her crass, even if it was such an Uzi thing to say, he hadn't expected it to come out of her mouth, she laughed a little at him.

“I mean, look at them, don't they need air?” Uzi brought his attention back to the screen, where the couple was noisely sucking face, hands going way too fast but going to places he didn't want to see.

He immediately ripped his head away from the screen. Watching drones make out was one thing (he'd went past a few couples the longer he spent in the bunker.) But watching humans had another level of uncanny valley, especially since his only real experience with them was Tessa. And her parents, but they were less pleasant to think about.

“Ew.” He found himself saying, which was surprising even for him because usually he was into romance, but right now all he felt disgusted.

“Really? You're grossed out? Damn I am rubbing off on you.” She laughed again, but blessedly fast forwarded it to when they finally stopped (which was ten whole minutes later, why was that necessary to include?!)

“It's not even that, it normally wouldn't bother me. I mean, I'm… a romantic.” He started, doing his best to phrase it in a way that didn't imply anything.

“A helpless romantic.” She corrected, shit eating grin and all, he felt his visor heat up again, yes he was, for her and her smart mouth.

“As I was saying, I've seen drones kiss before, that doesn't bother me. But I just fell like I don't wanna see… that? I dunno.”

He didn't want to see what should be private between two people? Maybe, would he feel the same way if it was him and someone else? Immediately, his processors betrayed him, serving him a hot and piping thought of Uzi up against a tree, hot breath leaving her, and him leaving a trail of kisses down her neck-

He shook his head so hard he could almost hear it rattle. That was not where his brain needed to go right now, in fact he needed to get far far away from that line of thinking pronto. He willed his furious blush away, wishing he could focus on the actual movie like Uzi was doing.

Uzi wasn't too focused on the movie either, instead she was having a private little daydream about pushing N up against a tree and kissing his cute little golden face until he was breathless. Thankfully she was stone faced, so long as she didn't look at him she wouldn't fluster, but that had taken some practice to reign in. Practice, because at this point thoughts like that were so common that she'd overheat constantly if she blushed at all of them.

Thankfully for N the rest of the movie pushed it out of his mind. Not because it suddenly became scary. Humans being chopped to bits with a meat cleaver was a lot less terrifying when you weren't human and you thought the entire cast was stupid. No, but it did become funny.

To make fun of.

The effects were laughably terrible, the killers mask was crooked the entire time, and, intentional or not, it destroyed any intimidating factor he had, since it looked more and more like a grown ass man in a bad Halloween costume.

It didn't help thar the voice acting was equally as bad, sounding sarcastic at best “Oh no don't kill meeeee.” And straight up bad at worse, some of the delivery was so off N had to rewind to even catch what they said.

“This movie is terrible.”

“This movie is laughably terrible.” She corrected him again, and he shot her a look that made her dissolve into laughter again.

He supposed she was right in that regard, they were making fun of it, and he no longer feared being scared tonight. Heck if all the movies were like this he wasn't fearful of ever being scared by them.

“Are all of them like this?” He asked, relaxing back into the couch with a sigh as he watched a teenage boy get decapitated, huh, he knew how that felt, ow.

“Only my favorite ones!” Uzi replied, laughing as one of the girls conveniently tripped over… something, her own stupidity most likely. Giving the killer time to catch up.

That didn't surprise him in the least, she was the one who wanted to go to earth and wipe out all the humans, so that tracked.

Still she kept trying to adjust, the cord seemed to be getting more and more uncomfortable the longer she laid.

“You good?” He asked as the movie began to wind down, the final girl setting a trap for the killer, to finish him off for good.

“I'm fine. Just… not used to having a baby attached to me. I can't get comfortable.” She admitted, crossing her arms awkwardly. N just smiled, and without thinking spread his arms to invite her to join him on his side of the couch.

She hesitated, before this there had always been some sort of plausible reason for them to end up in close proximity, weather it just be the size of what they were on or a traumatic event. Now though, there was no pretense. He was asking to be close because he wanted her close.

If she was looking for hints he might feel the same. This was her biggest one.

She did accept, crawling over to his lap where she could lean against his chest, she slotted perfectly there, tucked underneath his chin as she adjusted Tera again, only this time, N took her into his arms, removing the tension from her side almost entirely.

“Better?” He willed his voice to not crack like he was five, he hadn't meant for this to happen, he'd just… done it. Subconsciously. And now he was having to quell his feverishly humming core due to his own dumb actions.

“Heck yes… didn't realize how much she was pulling on me.” Her tension released immediately, and once again she found herself soothed by his ambient warmth, and his core humming underneath her. The movies credits had just begun to roll, that was fine, she'd seen it before.

“Maybe we can get you a baby bag or something, so she's not hanging off you and you don't have to carry her?” He suggested, and while on one hand that sounded *great*, and appealed directly to the “problem = solution” portion of her brain, it also made her fluster.

It would feel much more official then, that she was a parent as much as he was, it had been a feeling she'd been ignoring, starting from whenever they'd first seen Tera and growing every day since then. That this pillbaby, this… fragile thing. Was hers.

That she was a mom. And N was a dad.

And that thought made her giddy and flustered and scared. Best freinds don't typically adopt children together, even her very limited experience of friendship could tell her that.

"Uh... maybe..."

Their relationship right now was… complicated. They weren't together, neither of them had said anything or addressed it, but she did know that they were too close and their lives too intertwined to still just be calling it “freindship.”

And yet she was, and so was he. Because what else would either of them call it? She still couldn't completely prove he felt the same way! He'd been closer… more touchy. But that was kinda just N! "Boundaries" was not a word in his dictionary.

But here they were, cuddling, looking like a happy couple that had just brought their newborn home. She looked at them through the reflection of the now blank television.

N looked happy, extremely happy, eyes closed and holding both her and Tera close to his chest like they'd both slip through his fingers somehow, his tail was slowly wrapping itself around her leg, almost like it was trying to sneak up on her.

But her biggest hint? The thing that made her core flip when she realized? He was purring.

It was so soft it was almost impossible to hear. But she could feel it, the soft rhythmic vibrations that poured out of his core presumably without his knowledge. If he'd done it before she'd become… this. Then maybe it wouldn't have tipped her off so much. But now…

She had a purr too, another change made by the solver to her body to make her more like a disassembly drone, and her purr had only ever triggered when she was thinking about N, specifically how much she loved him.

While she was sure N's would be less specific in what and who triggered it, it something reserved for love. And considering she'd never heard it before, she could decern that it wasn't just something N just did.

Which meant it was her that was triggering it, or her and Tera together that was.

She felt a blush work it's way to her face as she looked up into N's visor, even though his eyes were closed, she knew he could still see her with his visor, and had probably been watching her the entire time.

So she just smiled, and curled herself into him. Hiding her face just in case she got flustered.

N liked her, and she finally had her proof.

#murder drones #biscuitbites #nuzi #uzi doorman #serial designation n #n and uzi #tera doorman #while watching a really bad horror movie #N is abysmal at hiding anything #and Uzi has stats in high INT.

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bhaalsdeepbat · 1 month

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i literally walked into this space knowing NO ONE, sat off to the side and told them, "I'm sorry, I'm like a cat. I have to just watch for a second, then I'll socialize more." and like. the entire group was just like YEAH MAKES SENSE. no one took it wrong. they just let me observe until i was ready to mesh in more. and now almost two years later I am now burrowed so deeply into this troupe that i wouldn't have the friends or opportunities i have without it.

#bat rambles #sometimes you just have to dive head first into shit and hope for the best #and like not to sound Vain or Full of Myself #but i know it helps that people think i'm really fucking cute so any weird or like #unhinged / fucking FERAL behavior they're just like #omg bat you're SO cute n quirky #like it's the curse of the manic pixie dream girl but like #in a space where they know i'm ND and they all like #have vast network of friends who AREN'T neurotypical #and also where most of them are queer #i don't feel like it's in a MPDG type way #it very much feels “yeah bat just does that sometimes” kind of way but they like #find all of it endearing #and i know that bc they know my OCD is really bad #we went thrifting two days ago and my two friends i went with dug through the bins for me #so i didn't have to touch anything #and if i pointed at something they'd dig it out and hold it up #no complaints they just were like yeah bat has OCD #in fact one of them was like YEAH I FEEL LIKE SUCH A BUTCH RN #i was in the most cottagecore lesbian outfit in the world and was like #yeah babe and i'm your lil lipstick lesbian who would rather kill themself than #touch that thing ur holding #but yeah throw it in the cart i think it'll fit my other girlfriend or their girlfriend

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sp0o0kylights · 10 months

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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition.

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place.

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip.

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck.

The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital.

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten.

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled.

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but.

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.)

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen.

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair.

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants."

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him.

Would Harrington pitch a fit?

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did?

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper.

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life?

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it.

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--"

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out."

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying.

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness.

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone."

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box.

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home.

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope.

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet.

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand.

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list.

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that."

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face.

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him.

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

"You'll check up on Robin too, right?" He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?"

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years.

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here.

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder.

Several somethings, in fact.

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck.

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick.

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie.

An unfair advantage, really.

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly.

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie.

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting.

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie."

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

"What do you mean Si--Wayne."

"Nice catch.” Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.”

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much.

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither.

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat."

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked.

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?"

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret.

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt."

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle.

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end."

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?"

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be.

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless.

"Anybody else?" He asked.

"Nobody human." Steve replied.

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that.

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?"

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency, I'd be happy to."

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through.

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation.

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus. "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER."

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it.

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair."

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound.

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble.

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…"

"You take any today son?"

Steve his head.

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack.

Course he hadn't.

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in.

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once.

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this.#Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain.#also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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eccentricwritingbaby · 7 months

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she’s a lady

charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary - based on the song 'shes a lady' by tom jones. just y/n being cool and charles being a simp lol

masterlist

Well, she's all you'd ever want

She's the kind they'd like to flaunt and take to dinner

Well she always knows her place

She's got style, she's got grace, she's a winner

charles did not want to go out tonight, he really didn’t. but there was just simply no possible way he could ever say no to that wonderful face. you came prancing into the bedroom you both shared bubbling over with excitement as you began to devise your outfit plan of the night while charles just laid on the bed with dreams in his eyes. you had tumbled into his life unexpectedly yet perfectly a few years ago and fit him like a glove. you were a girl constantly sought after, therefore you played hard to get when charles began his pursuit yet ultimately fell into the drivers arms at last. but, charles did not mind the chase, he would drive, run, skip, throughout all of monaco - hell europe hell the world - if it meant at the end of the day you would be his and his only.

“cherie?” you called out from your place in the closet. charles quickly dropped his phone, hopped off the bed and walked into the closet at your beck and call.

“oui, mon amour” he quickly replies while holding onto your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“do you like this dress for tonight? or this other one?” you briefly pointed to two different dresses, both small and revealing the only difference being the color - black or red.

“y/n what am i going to do with you,” charles sighs while squeezing your hips. you proceed to chuckle feeling something familiar pleasurably digging into your back.

“char, the dresses aren’t even on and you are already turned on? oh however will you last through the night,” you sigh through the last portion to give him a quick tease as you continue to sort through your dresses.

“i really do not think i will, mon ange,” charles whispers into your ear and proceeds to give your neck a kiss while replying again, “and you know i love you in red, always,”

She's a lady

Whoa, whoa, whoa she's a lady

Talkin' about that little lady

And the lady is mine

as the two of you approached the club all of your friends were at, charles began to notice the stares that were always pointed at you. he was a large celebrity and received a lot of people staring but that was all from proclaimed shock. the men - no - boys staring at you were gawking and undressing you with their eyes. normally charles would feel quite protective, and he does at times, but in these moments as your hand tightly grips his while walking through the crowded venue, he feels only pride. people look you up and down hoping you even so much as glance in their direction yet your eyes will never leave charles, you’re his. its never been in a possessive manner, only that you and charles have been absolutely and blissfully head over heels for each other from the moment you had laid eyes on each other.

Well, she's never in the way

Always something nice to say, oh what a blessing

I can leave her on her own

Knowing she's okay alone, and there's no messing

you sat gracefully at the vip table that charles and your friends had reserved for the night out. charles watched as you nodded along to something joris was speaking to you about, a polite smile never leaving your face. you added in small comments here and there which made joris laugh while also listening intently and honestly, something that is so rare nowadays.

carlos’ voice pulls charles from his thoughts as he asks the question charles asks himself everyday, “how y/n said yes to you i will never understand, chico, how did you get that blessing of a woman to be with you?”

charles receives this joke quite often, with you being so perfect and all. he understands that carlos is only joking with him and therefore replies back with a grin, “because i am the charles leclerc, mate”

charles’ grin grows wider after his laugh once spotting you walking over to him, “char, im heading to the bar for another drink, you need anything?”

your deliciously sweet tone along with the sexy and sultry outfit you had on ruined charles in one altercation, therefore leading him to quickly stutter out a, “n-no thank you, love”

“okay, ill be right back, boys,” you smile to the rest of the group and only to charles do you drop your left eye into a small wink. the boys cheer for a minute and continue to hide their bits of envy in an easy teasing to charles - who accepts the teasing with pride because if you’re going to get made fun of by friends, it might as well be for having the perfect girl.

as you continue to the bar, men begin to approach yet you remain oblivious only carrying tunnel vision on getting your drink and heading back to your man. you ignore the looks, the attempts at flirts and god-awful pickup lines while simply getting your drink and heading back towards the vip booth. right outside the booth and in complete view and earshot of charles, a relentless man keeps trying to talk and flirt with you.

“c’mon love, just one dance, i promise i’ll take good care of ya,” he says to you. charles is about to come rescue you, but you have other plans.

“i said no and that i have a boyfriend you fuckhead, now please go away so that i can actually enjoy my evening,” you finish the easy tell-off with a few bats to your eyelashes and the man is turned away but not without muttering a quick ‘bitch’ under his breath, “excuse me?!” you whip your head around to him once more.

“i called you a bitch, lady,” he says once more, you give a whole-hearted laugh which just confuses him further.

“i am a lady, but i will still set you straight,” you finish off while staring at the man.

“what do you mean by that, bitch” he taunts further. and with one simple swing, the man is on the ground and you’re shaking out your soon-to-be bruised hand. charles comes rushing up to you and engulfs you into a hug.

“mon amour, are you alright?” he quickly questions.

“i am a lady who can handle herself, char, no need to worry,” you reassure and give a kiss to his awaiting lips.

over to the side, joris leans over to whisper to the group that witnessed it all happen, “he’s too damn lucky to have her, she’s a badass,” the men just all look at each other while nodding in agreement to his statement. charles was lucky, but you knew that you were too. there is a reason that you felt safe enough to punch the man and also easily ignore all the stares that were given, because your protector was right behind you, fueling you with confidence and ease just as you do for him.

She's a lady

Whoa, whoa, whoa she's a lady

Talkin' about that little lady

And the lady is mine

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thisapplepielife · 3 months

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Spring challenge.

Sprung

Prompt: Spring | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Struggling to Make Ends Meet, Light Angst, Sacrifice, Love, Making a Life Together

"Steve, please," Eddie says, and Steve stills.

"I thought you were asleep?" Steve whispers in the dark, and Eddie's not sure why Steve's trying to be quiet at this point. They're both awake now. Steve's made sure of that.

"I was," Eddie huffs out, annoyed, because he had been. But Steve's constant flopping around has ruined that. Steve's become the world's shittest sleeper lately, and that's not exactly ideal in a bed partner.

"Sorry," Steve says, stilling, "I'll try to stop moving around."

Eddie just mutters something that he hopes passes as a thanks, and rolls back over. He has to get up at six, and he fucking needs his four hours. That's not too much to ask for, goddamnit.

Steve's still for a few minutes, but then rolls over in his sleep, again, and the whole bed shifts and shakes. Again. Eddie's had enough, and snags his pillow off the bed, padding down the hallway to crash on the couch. He's exhausted. He can't do this tonight. He can't.

He still wakes up tired, because it was too cold in the living room. Their shitty radiators either don't work, or boil you. No middle ground. Fucking shithole. But it's the best they can do for now, since they're barely keeping their heads above water, as is. Working just to live. It's been hard. Harder than Eddie expected, and he grew up with fucking hard.

He'd hoped they'd be past that now, hoped he'd finally catch a goddamn break.

Of course not.

It's the Munson curse.

And now Eddie's in a bad mood, even as Steve's pouring coffee into Wayne's old thermos for him, packing Eddie's metal lunchbox, to keep him going on the jobsite all day.

"Thanks," Eddie says, taking it, and Steve just nods silently, clearly aware Eddie's in a mood this morning.

Eddie worries they're circling the drain, from circumstances alone. It's not a love problem, it's a life problem, and that makes it worse.

And before long, Eddie realizes he broke the seal, having introduced a new wedge between them. Now that the couch is in play, they aren't even sleeping in the same bed most nights anymore. Steve will go, or he will, and now they're sleeping apart more nights a week than they sleep together. Maybe they're getting more rest, but they're also growing even further apart.

Today, Eddie's coffee and lunch are on the counter, but Steve's already in the shower, and their ten minutes together in the morning are gone.

Just like that.

Eddie grabs his work boots from the closet, flopping down on Steve's side of the bed to put them on, and he's suddenly assaulted, poked right in the ass by whatever Steve's left laying on the mattress.

Standing up, he's sliding his hand over the bed in the dark to see what the fuck he sat on. Nothing. He yanks the sheets back, and there's still nothing, so he strips it further.

It's a spring.

And it's threatening to fully poke through, probably right where Steve's back rests. Goddammit. No wonder Steve can't fucking hold still at night. He's being tortured, Eddie thinks, as he presses his hand against the spring, feeling it bite into his hand.

A rogue mattress spring.

That's what's divided them, broke them down.

Eddie sits back down, lets the spring dig into his ass, and holds his head in hands. He's not gonna cry. He doesn't have time. He has to go to work. But goddamn this.

He's still sitting there when Steve comes in and is rifling through the closet, "You okay?"

"No," Eddie says.

Steve walks over and puts the back of his hand on Eddie's forehead and Eddie laughs, wetly.

"You don't feel hot," Steve declares.

"No, I don't," Eddie mutters, because damn, he fucking doesn't feel hot at all. He feels broken down and worn out.

He reaches up and catches Steve's hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing it.

"I'm sorry about the mattress. I didn't know," Eddie says, looking up at him.

"It's okay, I'm used to it," Steve says, and he rubs his fingers against the top of Eddie's head.

"You shouldn't have to be," Eddie says, dejected.

Steve Harrington chose him, loves him, and Eddie can't even give him a bed to sleep on that isn't trying to pierce his spleen every night.

They can't afford a new one, not right now, and Eddie hates that he can't fix this.

"We'll flip it," Eddie offers.

"Then it'll have the crater on your side again," Steve says with a laugh. And yeah, Eddie'd forgotten they flipped it last year, after his side started breaking down. Sucking him inward, like a gate into the Upside Down.

That doesn't matter.

"Well, that's gotta be better than this," Eddie admits, bouncing a little. Anything would be better than this torture device.

Steve kneels between Eddie's open thighs, "It's okay, Eddie."

It's not.

"I'm sorry I was being a jerk. I didn't know," Eddie says.

"I know you didn't," Steve answers, "I didn't want you to worry."

Eddie brushes Steve's hair off his forehead, "I'm still sorry. I love you. You know that, right?"

Steve grins, and it's blinding, "Always. Work now, worry about the mattress later."

Eddie nods, smiles, and when Steve moves from between his knees, Eddie leans over and laces up his boots. Ready to start another day.

That evening, when Eddie pulls into the driveway, Wayne's truck is parked behind Steve's car. Eddie hadn't realized Wayne was coming, and grins. This day just got way better.

Eddie plows into the house, and finds Steve in the bedroom, a pair of needle nose pliers dug into a small hole they've cut in the mattress, trying to bend the spring back into its original position. Wayne's standing there, talking Steve through the temporary fix, until they can afford something better.

It's gonna be okay, Eddie realizes. They're just a little bent out of shape right now. A little sprung.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #spring #steddie #steddie ficlet #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #future fic #good uncle wayne munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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stevebabey · 11 months

Text

surrounded by your embrace

summary: when you get drunk at a party, old memories make steve worry. he really doesn't need to because all alcohol does is make you clingy. gn!reader but mentioned to wear sum eyeshadow, no warnings u and steve are just absolute goobers for each other :D wc: 2k

He goes to the bathroom for five minutes.

Five minutes and you manage to make yourself scarce. The corner you had been previously inhabiting, slurping the lip of your red solo cup while talking to some friends, is completely void of you when Steve finds his way back to it.

Your friends are still there, leaned against the wall and chattering amongst themselves. Steve clears his throat to gain their attention.

"Did you see...?" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, asking if they'd noticed where you might've wandered off to. You've had quite a few drinks tonight already and Steve's not surprised if it means you've forgotten you're the only one he knows at this party. These are your friends, not his.

One of them points towards the kitchen and he mutters a quiet thank-you, beginning to wind his way through the people to reach the kitchen.

A fraction of unease prickles at the back of his neck. Last time he was a party and his partner ambled off, full of alcohol, it had left a couple memories that cut deep. Steve hasn't ever admitted it aloud to anyone the seeds that Nancy had sowed that night, the little insecurities that had never bothered Steve in the slightest suddenly sprouting up overnight.

Worst is, he can't make himself forget that night. He remembers the spill of red punch on her white shirt vividly. Remembers the sting behind his eyes. Remembers how later on she'd come back in the middle of everything with Jonathan by her side and Steve had just... known.

But you're not Nancy and he knows that. He knows that this is a different party, you're a different person, it's a whole different relationship—

Yet, those insecurities have rooted deep and Steve can feel them shifting painfully inside him as his worries get away from him. Like vines wrapping tight around his ribcage the longer it takes to find you.

You're aren't by the drink station on the kitchen bench and looking out at the sea of people in the living room, you aren't there either. Steve pulls his collar away from his neck, feeling the prickle roll down his skin again. You've gone, something in his head whispers meanly, You've left him and found someone else at this party. Someone without his baggage, someone without his neediness, someone—

Steve scrubs a hand down his face and shoves away his ugly thoughts. None of them are fair to you — you who has been nothing but impossibly and endlessly sweet on him in the one month you and Steve have been dating. He inhales sharply to clear his head and scans the crowd again. Nothing.

Just as he's turning to go bug your friends again, he spots movement out the corner on his eye, someone shuffling about the walk-in pantry. Steve walks closer and peers in. It's you.

Delight and relief bloom together in his chest and he rounds the corner with a shaky smile, leaning up against the door frame. "There you are."

You turn with a little hiccup, clearly startled.

Steve adores how the recognition on your face melts into excitement, steamrolling his anxieties in an instant, and you drop whatever is in your hands and leap for your boyfriend.

"Steve!"

"That's me," He says with a smile, arms opening for you to burrow yourself in. You do so, arms twisting around his middle and face smushing against his chest and he welcomes the warmth of you in his arms. He expects you to move after a minute but you stay put, pressed right up against him, hold only tightening.

"I couldn't find you." You whine.

"You were looking for me in the pantry?"

"Nooooo," The drinks you've had have turned your usual drama up to 11. You dig your face out of his chest and rest your chin against it instead, forcing Steve to look directly down to meet your eyes. "S'just went to get water from th' kitchen 'n' then I saw they have a box of Fruit Roll-Ups."

You say this all as if it's incredibly self-explanatory why you're in the pantry while you're also looking for your boyfriend. Steve looks over your head and spies the spilled box on the ground you were holding just a few moment prior. Lo and behold, half a dozen Fruit Roll-Ups are scattered on the ground.

"Fruit Roll-Ups, Steve." You whisper with more emphasis.

He laughs a little, looking back down at you and thinking how pretty you look tonight. There's this blue crystal-coloured eyeshadow lightly smudged across your eyelids and it glitters beneath the low hanging bulb of the pantry.

"Well, I'm sure you can have one." He nods to gesture behind you. "Melanie won't mind, you're her friend."

Melanie, the party's host, had been tucked up and fast asleep in her bed with a big red bucket by her side when he had opened her door trying to find the bathroom. Steve definitely thinks she won't mind letting you gorge yourself of a single Fruit Roll-Up. Or a couple. Whatever, he won't tell on you.

"You think?"

Steve rubs your back lightly and goads you back towards the snack you're clearly hungry for. Your hands slide out of the hug reluctantly but the moment you turn, you're scuttling over to the treats. Steve chuckles watching you plop yourself down, sitting down on the cold tiles. You're in shorts. Steve can see your goosebumps from here.

He takes a few steps and crouches down, taking a seat next to you, leaning his back up against a beam. You're trying to tear into one of the packets but the moment Steve's back in your view, you're pouting and holding it out to him.

Steve pretends to scoff, taking the packet and opening it easily, but really, he loves that you ask him to do those things. Loves doing little things for you. He offers it back to you and you pluck it from his hands with glee.

He assumes you'll sink your teeth into it but you stare at it for a moment before you surprise him, crawling forward and all bout clambering into his lap.

It's rather inelegant, your drunkenness not helping and you push the heel of your hand just two inches from where it would really hurt, making Steve wince in anticipation. He holds his hands up and out of the way and lets you settle yourself.

A quiet revelation makes something in his chest glows hotly. You're always affectionate, always want to be touching him, but this is another level for you — there's a shyness around PDA that you usually carry that seems to have been shed tonight. Anyone could peer in the pantry and see you curled up in his arms and lap and you seem too enamoured with him to even care.

Steve grins and chides himself for ever being worried earlier.

"Hi." You say, finally situated comfortably. Steve's not sure it is comfortable, sitting sideways in his lap with one leg twisted nearly underneath you and one out in front, sorta curled in, but you seem content enough. He places one hand on the small of your back, the other holding just above your knee.

"Hi there. Comfy now?"

"Very. Can you pass me my roll-up please?"

You've dropped it in your wriggle to get closer to him and its rolled nearly under the shelf Steve's leaning up besides. He leans over and retrieves it, thanks God for the wrapper, and produces it for you.

"A gift." He says, drinking in how your face washes over with delight. With the lights haloing behind your head, your hair frizzy from dancing earlier, he thinks you look like an angel.

"That's right!" You take it from him and pull it close to your chest, attention back on him. "I wanted to give you a kiss, to say thank you."

Steve feels his heart flutter, a stutter in the beats at the utter tenderness of your words. He squeezes your knee and turns his face, holding out his cheek.

"Well, go on then."

You giggle and it's the most dreamy honeyed noise Steve's ever heard. You lean in and plant a big wet kiss on his cheek with a happy hum, pulling back with a mwah!

"Thank you for the kiss, sweetheart." He rubs the hand on your back lightly and you soften at his words completely, pure giddiness running rampant across your features.

Steve soaks it all in, unsure of the last time he knew someone who gave him love so freely. You seem to have endless amounts of it for him. You don't even mind when he's greedy with you.

You finally peel back the wrapper of the Fruit Roll-Up and gobble a bit of it down. You chew and swallow and lean all your weight against him, your shoulder pressing into his. You're close, a couple more inches and the tip of his nose would brush yours. A bashful expression flits across your features.

"I like when you call me sweetheart."

"You do?"

You nod enthusiastically.

"That's good," Steve says, fondness coating each word. " 'Cos I like calling you sweetheart, sweetheart."

It's so cheesy that Steve thinks you shouldn't laugh, but you do because you're wonderful. He grins, his fingers on your knee tightening slightly as you look over him, your eyes crinkled up by your grin. The alcohol makes you brash enough to stare and you look at his face intently for a moment before you huff.

“God!” You drop your head back with a dramatic sigh and sink your teeth into your bottom lip to try contain your giddy grin. It doesn’t work in the slightest. “That look.”

"What? What look?”

You tip your head back up and Steve can read the shyness on your expression, pulling at your eyebrows.

“You know,” You say, a little embarrassed, which is even more adorable on you while drunk. You're flustered over your words, like you know you wouldn't normally have said them if you were sober. “You just get this look sometimes, when you’re looking at me—”

Steve frowns for a moment, minuscule, as he thinks of what face you might be referring to.

“—and your eyes get all intense and- ugh! It still makes nervous when you do it.” You’ve drop your head again, forward this time, to hide your face in his shoulder. You pat your tummy theatrically and then clutch it, voice lowering to a whisper in his ear. “These butterflies are your doing, Harrington.”

Steve laughs, entirely too pleased with himself —he still makes you nervous. Ditto, he thinks. “Is that so?”

"Mmhm." You hum and Steve feels you place a soft kiss on one of the moles on his neck. His breath catches and his heart flip-flops. You wiggle a bit but it's just to try get closer to him, your nose nuzzling against his neck. A tired sigh escapes you.

"You tired? Wanna go home?" He asks.

You nod sluggishly but make no attempt to move. Steve chuckles lightly, his hand still soothing up and down your back gently, not helping in the least he knows. Still, he can't help himself; he wants to ply you with love, with comfort, if he can. You sigh happily.

"N' a minute." You mumble. Your words are slurring the more tired you get. "Just wanna be at a party with my super hot and amazing boyfriend for one more minute. S'okay?"

Steve's heart crumples and he can feel his entire body curl up, his legs sliding up an inch, his hands tensing, all involuntarily reactions to try bring you in closer to him. There is an ache in his very core but it's a lovely ache. Steve feels a burn behind his eyes. He blinks and presses a long kiss to your hairline.

"Yeah, sweetheart," He murmurs into your hair. "That's more than okay with me."

#title from halo by beyonce ! bcos i literally have. had on it repeat #plus the line in there about halos is indeed a ref to that <3 #why did i bust this out in one night. who am i #this is unedited so like if theres a mistake just like take me out the back and shoot me dead #ruby writes steve #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #annnnnd uuuuuh post :D

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enkvyu · 11 months

Text

2:24am — getou suguru ;

a cold, bitter chill sweeps the courtyard of jujutsu high, snow like dust clinging to tree branches and settling atop slopped roofs.

you shiver, the cold enough to penetrate even the thickest of your sweaters and your cigarette does little to numb your body. even the flame at the end whimpers and dies against the wind.

with a sigh, you scrap the end of your cigarette against the wall, dragging a long charcoal line. getou perks up when you take out another cigarette and chuckles when you fumble around.

you glare over at him, but ask him anyway. "do you have a lighter i can borrow?"

he raises his eyebrow at you, drinking in a deep exhale of his own cigarette. "you forgot to bring one?"

"i think i left it with shoko and who knows where she is right now."

"this is your third cigarette in a while now, you good there?"

"is this a smoke session or a therapy appointment?" you reply with a lazy smirk, just enough to show that there were no hard feelings. "if i wanted to talk about my feelings, i would be drinking until i see the bottom of a bottle, not standing outside in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of winter, with you."

getou raises his arms as if to relent, his cigarette tilting off his bottom lip. "just thought i'd check in. you needed a lighter, right?"

you point to your cigarette, also resting in your mouth. "does it look lit to you?"

your classmate takes a step forward, hand digging around in his pant pocket when an idea struck him. he makes a show of shoving his hand in his other pocket, and then peeking into his shirt, flicking his bangs to the side to get a good look, before coming back emptyhanded. "oh man, looks like i left my lighter behind as well."

"yeah? where'd you leave it?"

"with gojo."

you send him an unimpressed look. "the non-smoker of our group?"

"he wanted to see if it would light underwater. called it his hypothesis. if it's him, he'd probably make it somehow."

though it was very difficult to believe getou's terrible excuse, you don't disagree.

you scan him up and down, from his warm smile that would fool everyone but you, to his pants that dragged down on one side, something heavy causing the shift in fabric. "is that a lighter in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"

"i'm always happy to see you. hey, come here."

your body stutters at that. "what?"

getou ignores your deer-in-headlights look and steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you in one step. leaning down, he secures his cigarette with two fingers, using his other hand to balance himself on the wall beside you, and presses it against your own. you didn't see this happening, you could only infer as your eyes dances around his face instead, captivated at the proximity and the smoothness of his skin, the way his hair fluttered gently in the winter air, the slight redness of his nose and the furrow between his brow as he held his cigarette.

he peers down to ensure the two sticks meet, eyelashes casting shadows against his cheek.

when your cigarette catches on, and you don't see this from happening either, getou's eyes flicker to look at yours. your eyes meet with a spark that doesn't come from your cigarettes, and holds until you feel the smoke irritate the back of your throat.

taking a step back, you lightly clear your throat. when you take a deep breath of your cigarette, you realise you really needed it. "what the heck, getou, that was too smooth. you could make a girl swoon with that."

"well, did it work on you?"

you meet his eyes with a start. "did you want it to?"

you let the silence draw out, looking into his eyes as if they'd give you an answer, especially when he doesn't. suddenly, getou breaks the eye contact, a slight red dusting his cheeks. he chuckles humourlessly. you watch as getou inhales and exhales, leaning against the wall and looking straight ahead.

"way to turn it back on me." he says.

"it's your fault for not being prepared."

"how can i ever be prepared when you find the weirdest things to say?"

"it's been three years now, you'd think you found a way around that already."

you huff out a condensed breath of smoke and when the wind doesn't start to blow it away, you do it yourself, fanning it with an irritated wave. when your hand comes back down to rest on the wall, your pinky hits getou's hand.

you don't pull away, but you look over at him. his faux indifference isn't lost on you, his gaze pulled to the side opposite you as if there was anything interesting about the trees and rocks. even though his head is turned away, the red on the tips of his ears and the smile he tries to hide with his cigarette is unmistakeable.

you blink slowly, the tingle from the connection making your heartbeat faster even when the chemicals in your cigarette work to slow it down. finally, you intertwine your pinky with his. you hear him exhale deeply, and then shuffle to face the front once more. what he didn't expect was you, staring right at him to catch his eye.

getou's face burns. "what is it?" he asks, clearing his throat.

"nothing."

"if it was nothing, you wouldn't be looking at me like that."

"i was just thinking. it took you a while to finally make a move, is all."

getou splutters and it's so out of character that it makes you laugh. he groans, covering his face with his other hand, cigarette wedged in between two fingers.

“since when?” he asks behind his hand.

you hum in thought. “maybe last year. what about you?”

“first year. when we first met.”

“love at first sight? you are so cheesy.”

he huffs, the corner of his smile visible despite his efforts. “right? almost wished i didn’t fall in love right then and there.”

“fall in love?” you repeat and he looks at you alarmed. “i was just talking about a little crush, what’s this about love?”

“you—”

your grin steals the words from his mouth and he sighs into his palm. he lets it drop, defeated, cigarette end crunching against the wall. “fine, you win. i should have done something sooner, whatever. you’re terrible.”

you're urged to tease him more when he interlaces with your hand, the grip warm against the snow, firm and steady like it was always meant to be there. this time, when you look up at him, getou’s already gazing right back at you. he doesn’t break his hold this time and it’s your turn to blush at his assertiveness. only then does he seem to falter, feeling conscious.

"now we're just two blushing idiots in the snow."

getou smiles at that. "talk about cheesy." his gaze falls to his cigarette, the end only smoking every now and again. it's dead, he realises, so he puts it out under his foot. "want to head back inside? it's getting cold."

"really?" you say, lifting your interconnected hand. "it's pretty warm for me."

getou gives you a lop-sided grin. "cheesy." he tugs you towards him, towards the door of the school and you have to groan at the prospect of returning to class after all the trouble you went through to get away. you let yourself be dragged off though, hand holding getou's, ready to face the rapid-fire questions you know you'll get asked when you make it back.

still, the heat of your hands makes it way up to your face and you have to tuck your chin into the collar of your shirt to hide the evidence.

the winter air whistles in your ear, its cold a faraway problem.

the urge to make the reader die in getou's arms or irruptively after any super fluffy moment is Intense. like toji just appears with a gun and bang (sorry getou i would pray for your happiness but i'm an atheist)

#getou x reader #getou x you #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #getou suguru fluff #getou fluff #ieiri shoko #gojo satoru #sashisu #sss trio #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk x you #getou #getou hcs

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bonny-kookoo · 8 months

Note

Can we get cherry jks reaction when Mc finally shows her tattoo to jk😊 thanks

A/N: Warnings for sexual tension

"So." He grins.

"..So." You parrot back, though not as confident.

You're both sitting on his couch again, facing each other. Suddenly, you feel odd. What if he's disappointed by your body? What if he thinks you're a lot prettier than you actually are? And what if he thinks your tattoo is stupid, badly made, or doesn't suit you?

"Do you wanna.. take it off yourself, or..?" He wonders casually, leaning his head a bit to the side.

"..you." You point towards him, unable to really bring yourself to undress. It's not even all that bad- he's gonna be able to see the tattoo without you taking off your bra anyways. You're not gonna have to get naked.

But you kind of want to be, just to see what he thinks of you.

He's clearly scanning your face and rest of you for any sign of discomfort as he scoots closer to you, fingers pulling your shirt out from where you had it tucked into your shorts, before he slowly lifts it up, your hands lift to make it easier for him to pull it over your head.

Of course your underwear would be cute- lace rim sitting snug against your skin, little bows placed right where the straps begin, one singular one right in between the two cups that hold your tits all securely inside.

He actually thought about what they maybe look like. He didn't think they'd look this pretty.

"Can I touch you?" He wonders, and you shrug, before nodding, his hands surprisingly warm as he smiles, before he leans in a little closer. "Lay back for me a little, yeah?" He asks, voice lower than before, less clear, a lot more breathy. You nod, letting him help you lay back down as he sits right over your legs, knees digging into the couch below so that he doesn't put his weight on you.

He pushes up the hem under your bra, but you notice he's struggling a little not to go too far-

so you move your hands and unhook the back of your bra, catching him off guard as his hands leave you, eyes wide open before he laughs, face resting on your stomach, exhale from his nose tickling your skin.

"God damnit woman, give a man a warning!" He scolds, looking back up at you. "I thought I broke it!" He complains, causing you to laugh as well now.

"Sorry." You apologize, and he shakes his head, before he looks back at you. "You can take it off too." You approve, and he licks his lips, gaze now darkening quite a bit at the prospect of being allowed to do something like that.

He looks almost concentrated as he rids you off your underwear, leaving it to hang over the backrest of the couch to not get lost.

"That's, without exaggeration-" He says, leaning back a bit to look at you. "-the best pair of tits I've ever seen." He nods, playfully acting impressed, like an art-critic looking at a painting revealed. "Like, I know I'm supposed to look at the tattoo but wow.. can I touch them?" He wonders, and you nod- his entire demeanor making you feel awfully comfortable.

His palms immediately take the place of your bra earlier, and he personally thinks his hands are a way better fit and sight than the undergarment.

But maybe that's just him.

The moment he finds the tattoo however, he's interested. Fine lines, some already quite faded, no shadowing whatsoever. It's a simple flower design, very pretty, doesn't need any bold colors or more additions to it.

It's fine as it is. Fits you perfectly.

"I could re-trace those lines here. They're almost invisible- which happens a lot with fine line artworks.." He mumbles, before he notices your thighs move together.

Oh?

One look up reveals your flushed face, and only now does he notice the way his fingers must've continuously brushed over your by now hardened nipples. "But maybe I gotta get more familiar with... the client first." he purrs, hands moving as his body moves to lay lower, now his chin touching your stomach. "Hm?" He wonders, and you whine, unsure what to ask for.

How far does he want to even go? Does he want full on sex, or is he still only teasing you?

"Did you know that some girls can cum from only getting their tits touched?" He asks you boldly, and you shake your head, making him grin, before he runs his thumbs over your sensitive buds, a kiss placed right up onto the lowest part of your sternum.

"Wanna see if you're one of them?"

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

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libraryofgage · 8 months

Text

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Four

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hi hi! It's been kind of a long week for me lmao but here's the next part! You'll def wanna stick around to the very end of the post; there's a very fun surprise for y'all lol

Also! If you like my writing or want to see a quicker update of this or another series, I've opened commissions (student loans are hitting a lot harder than I expected orz). If you're interested, you can find more information in this post

Even if you don't commission me, I appreciate your likes/comments/reblogs of my work! They keep me going and make me really happy ^_^

Anyway, now for the good stuff. As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

----

Sinking a ship takes skill, intense planning, and strong tails. Or, if you're Robin and seven guppies, it takes incredible, unbridled rage and a worry that could kill a Kraken. A ship that should take half the day to sink only takes the group two hours, their tails bashing against the hull and claws ripping planks to let seawater surge inside. Dustin is particularly brutal, recruiting Lucas and Mike to help him use the same net that caught him and took Steve to drag the ship beneath the waves.

Between tending to Dustin's wounds, lying to the pod about why they're going to be away for a while, and actually tracking the damned thing, it took Robin and the guppies a few days to catch up to the ship. And as they scavenge the drowned wreckage, pushing past broken doors and through holes in the hull, it becomes increasingly clear that they're too late.

"Where could he be?!" Dustin shouts, his gills flaring and bubbles rising in an enraged pattern above him. He takes a spear and jabs it into a water-bloated plank. "If he's not here, that means he escaped, right? So why hasn't he found us yet?"

"Steve could have been taken by another ship," El points out, her head poking from behind a mast. She's gained a dagger with a jewel-encrusted hilt and is currently using her nails to dig the jewels out and drop them into a seaweed bag.

Robin frowns, swimmingly anxiously in circles. She's not the one that's good with guppies. That's Steve. If she's the fun caretaker that encourages them to play Scuttlefish with sharks, Steve is the one a tail's-length behind dragging them back to the pod before they can get hurt. He's the one who knows how to keep the guppies calm and healthy. Robin is the one who keeps them energetic and chaotic.

"He was definitely here," Will says, swimming out from a cabin on the ship. He stops in front of Robin and holds his hands out, letting her see the dull, blood-stained scales sitting in his palms.

With a shaking hand, Robin takes the scales and turns them over, hoping they're somehow not Steve's. But he's her partner. Robin could recognize him by the flick of his tail alone. So, of course, she knows they're Steve's scales at a glance.

She turns, her tail creating a small current that brushes over the guppies and forces them to look at her. "If he's not on this one," she says, "then we'll just keep sinking ships until we find him."

"Let's start with the other ship," Erica says.

"The other ship?" Robin asks.

Erica nods, pointing in the direction they'd just come from. "A few leagues before we found this one, I saw another one that was sailing in the other direction. Maybe they crossed paths."

For a brief moment, Robin wonders how she missed the other ship. But then she remembers how she's been caught between her own worries and keeping the guppies from spiraling, and she gives herself a break. "Yeah," she says, nodding as she closes her fingers over the scales. The edges cut into her palms but don't draw blood. "Let's go track down that ship. But don't keep something like that from me next time."

The guppies all nod in agreement, and Robin looks at the wreckage around them. She's half-tempted to let the guppies loot the rest of the ship, but she knows they're all aching to find Steve already. So, Robin herds them away from the sunken ship in the direction Erica pointed and hopes Steve can hold on for just a little longer.

----

Excerpt from "The Lovelorn Fool's Guide to Merfolk Courtship"

Song Types

There are several song types that merfolk are likely to use in their lifetime. While the human ear cannot distinguish the intricacies of the songs, it can tell the major categories apart.

As newly-born guppies, they know only how to vocalize wordless sounds based on their needs. These sounds are referred to as Guppy Songs. These songs are generally lacking in any real melody or rhythm. They are rough and unskilled, but many caretakers consider them precious.

Pod songs are shared tunes and melodies among the pod to communicate big news. When hearing a pod song from a lone merperson, it will sound incomplete. Pod songs usually require at least one other merperson to support or respond to the initial measures, which creates a complete and satisfying loop.

Individual songs are varied and unique, as the name suggests. They cover a range of emotions that simply can't be communicated through regular speech or bubble patterns (to learn more about bubble patterns, please see Part I: The Basics). Among these songs, the most important to know is the courting song, which can actually be multiple songs using the same opening measures and melodies with slightly different tones.

Now that you know the most basic kind of songs, we can move to harmonizing. Truthfully, a human's ability to harmonize with a merperson is nearly impossible. However, it can be done with an instrument, which can reach ranges the human voice cannot. So, if you don't know how to play one, I'd suggest learning. Harmonizing is a key step in the courtship process, after all.

----

Steve shrieks as Eddie spins him around, the sound high and grating, and clings tighter to Eddie's neck. His tailfin slaps Eddie behind his knee, hard enough to make him falter and slip on the rain-soaked deck. He falls on his ass, Steve safely in his lap, and laughs. The charms in his hair knock against each other, and Steve idly reaches up to brush his finger against one. "What was that for?" Eddie asks, the words slightly breathless.

"You surprised me," Steve says, frowning slightly as raindrops catch in his eyelashes and make them heavy. He holds a hand above his eyes and then does the same for Eddie.

"You just looked so pretty, sweetheart," Eddie says, grinning at Steve like he knows what bubble pattern his fluttering gills would create (flustered and flattered).

He rolls his eyes, looking at the sky and sea in the distance. The ocean is surging, and waves and sea foam collide as the wind picks up force. Dark clouds hang over the sea, and Steve would be concerned if he didn't know the storm would clear up soon. He can tell from the sound of the ocean and the taste in the air: the water isn't angry enough and there isn't enough salt on his lips.

The rain is still going to turn brutal, though, and Steve would prefer they weren't on deck when it happens. He overheard Asher and Jeff talking about the last time Eddie got soaked to the bone and got sick. He's not sure what a "cold" is, but he doesn't want Eddie catching it again.

"Let's go back to the cabin," he says, looking back at Eddie with a light smile. "I want to hear you play that, uh, gee-tare."

"Guitar, Stevie," Eddie corrects, holding Steve tight as he stands. He has an excited smile, something expectant in his eyes that Steve still hasn't figured out.

Steve hums, knowing very well how it's pronounced, but he likes to see the somewhat dopey smile Eddie gets whenever he mispronounces something. He gets the feeling Eddie also knows he's doing it on purpose, but he's not said anything yet.

Eddie carries him down to the captain's cabin, kicking the door shut with his foot. "Where do you want to be, sweetheart?" he asks.

After a moment's consideration, Steve gestures to the bed, looking forward to the soft pillows and even softer sheets. When Eddie places him down, he wiggles until his tail is curled comfortably, soaking the sheets beneath him, and looks at Eddie expectantly.

"Any requests?" Eddie asks, clearly amused as he grabs his guitar and hops onto the bed next to Steve. His knee brushes against Steve's tail, drawing Steve's attention briefly to the faint scar that lingers across his scales.

He's been healed for almost a day now, and Steve should probably start bracing himself to say goodbye, but he'd like to remain in denial a little longer. He doesn't want to leave. Even if he knows he'll come right back with Robin and the guppies, Steve doesn't want to be away from Eddie that long. They haven't even confirmed their courtship. Leaving before they do means any merperson with half a brain could see how much of a pearl Eddie is and try to steal him away.

Steve forces the thought away, forces himself to focus on answering Eddie's question, and shakes his head. "Just play something," he says.

Eddie nods and thinks a moment as he tunes the guitar. "Could you hum something?" he asks.

When he looks up at Steve again, there's something oddly intense in his gaze. He looks determined, as though something very important is riding on this moment. Steve isn't sure what it is, exactly, but he knows he doesn't want it to pass him by. Steve nods and starts humming a soft and familiar tune, one he's used a lot more after meeting Eddie.

It must be the right choice, because Eddie practically lights up, a grin tugging at his lips and crinkling the corners of his eyes as he listens. After a few seconds, he starts plucking strings on the guitar, adding a gentle accompaniment that makes Steve's humming rock back and forth like the ocean currents.

Usually, Eddie plays fast, his music filling Steve with the same heat and energy as an underwater volcano in the middle of an eruption. But this is slow and sweet like the honey Steve tried a few days ago. It creeps through him, his gills fluttering with each note that Eddie pulls from his guitar. He feels soft and happy, his voice shifting to follow Eddie's lead as inspiration hits him.

They trade the lead back and forth between them, and Steve starts to actually sing at some point. He doesn't know when he opened his mouth and started to vocalize the notes instead of just humming them, a sweet melody forming as his voice resonates with the guitar. It just happens as naturally as swimming. Steve can no longer tell where his voice ends and the guitar begins. They've fallen into sync, strumming and singing together without missing a beat.

Steve leans closer, his heart pounding against his ribs even faster than usual. They're harmonizing. He realizes it suddenly, but it doesn't catch him off-guard. It's just a whisper in the back of his mind, a little nudge that makes him smile and move without thinking beyond the desire to be closer.

The song doesn't end naturally. In fact, Eddie is in the middle of a particularly lovely string of notes when Steve kisses him, still humming low in his throat. Eddie's fingers fumble, a sour note pulling from the guitar, but Steve doesn't care. He's too busy wrapping one hand around the back of Eddie's neck and placing the other on Eddie's chest.

He can feel Eddie's heart beating just as rapidly as his own, and Steve presses closer. He's barely balancing on his tail as Eddie moves the guitar from his lap, pushing it to the side of the bed while he kisses Steve back. Eddie pushes his hand into Steve's hair, tangling his fingers in the strands.

Steve's humming happily rises in pitch, and he finally loses his balance, his weight pressing entirely on Eddie and causing him to fall back on the bed. The kiss breaks when Eddie bounces slightly, their foreheads knocking together, and Steve can't help laughing.

"You're fucking gorgeous, sweetheart," Eddie whispers, his free hand trailing to Steve's waist and settling on his back. His fingers brush against the line where scales meet skin, and Steve shudders, his mouth going dry, and he kisses Eddie again before he can say another word.

----

Tag List (the tag list is full! I wasn't able to fit everyone, so if you aren't on here, I'd suggest following #high seas steddie. I think you should still get updates on your dash if you do)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @haelreadsshit, @y4r3luv, @starman-jpg, @littlewildflowerkitten, @estrellami-1, @stevieschrodinger, @gaelicblue, @they-reap-what-we-sow

@5ammi90, @noodle-shenaniganery, @acrolius, @hallelujahimatheist, @rainbow-freckle, @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @79chevyimpala, @aliea82, @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona, @sani-86, @queenie-ofthe-void, @goosesister, @hello-fellow-nerds, @luthienstormblessed, @xtkxkrzrizir, @potato-of-the-lord, @geekymagicalpotato, @child-of-cthulhu, @aizawa-emma, @m-owo-n, @newtstabber, @cartercaptainofthemoon, @spectrum-spectre, @a-little-unsteddie

And, if you've made it this far, here's a little meme for your entertainment

#steddie #steddie fic #high seas steddie #merman steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #robin buckley #the party #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing

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patrophthia · 1 year

Text

it wasn’t implied? | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

genre: fluff, pining, maybe angst¿?, miscommunications, secret confessions, not proofread

wc: 4.2k

originally posted on wattpad

"i saw you," sirius said lowly, smirking, "you two think you're so sly but i see everything."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

"sure, you don't," he remarked with a roll of his eyes, "you never know what i'm talking about, not when i told you that your crush on remus was obvious, not when i tell you that remus fancies you back and definitely not when i saw —with my very own two eyes— you kissing."

"just be careful doll, i've been there before," he told her softly, making her glance at him. "you've been there before?" she repeated testingly, not understanding what sirius meant. "i was once remus when i was younger."

"where should we go next?" peter asked excitedly, holding onto the teddy sirius had won for him for dear life.

it was a hogsmeade weekend, the marauders had decided that it was a bright idea to sneak off to an amusement park. the sun was setting, a pretty mix of pink and blues with hint of gold within it. they stood in the middle of the park, pulling at their coat tightly to keep themselves warm whilst james suffered in a corner.

"definitely not the roller coaster again," said lily wearily, eyeing james from where she stood as he hunched over a garbage can with remus and sirius to his side. "anything but the roller coaster again."

"i'm pretty sure they're done with it," she said kindly, watching as remus rubbed james' back in a soothing manner, "we've been on it four times now, i don't think they'd like to go on it for any longer."

"hopefully, you're right," lily muttered under her breath as the group of boys returned.

james looked up, smiling charmingly. "what's next?"

"i wanted to go on the ferris wheel," said sirius off-handedly, his hands digging into his pocket to keep itself away from the cold, "the sunset's nice."

"okay," lily agreed; nodding her head as she approached james' side, lily looped her arm around his and began leading the way when she realized that two of their friends were missing. turning around, lily spotted the pair conversing between themselves. "guys?"

"yes?" remus looked up, finally noticing that their friends were ten steps away and blushed. "sorry."

lily only smiled, giving him a pointed look and glanced down slightly. "is she cold?"

"very," she answered, voice muffled as her head was pressed against remus' torso, holding onto him tightly. "remus is very warm."

"of course, he is. the man's a human furnace," sirius said, almost frowning, "now, c'mon i want to see prongs throw up again."

"that's disgusting," she whispered just loud enough for remus to hear, moving her head slightly to look up at him.

"it's pads, what'd you expect?" he asked in return, smiling fondly at her.

she scrunched her nose in disgust, accidentally picturing james going through hell once more at sirius expense. "less suffering for the man who's already legally blind?"

remus laughed at that, making sirius groan even more. "would you stop flirting please?" sirius whined dramatically, "seriously princess, are we going to get an apology here?"

pulling away from remus completely, she stood besides him and assessed their friends.

"sorry, i made you wait because i was cold," she started slowly, feeling as though she was a kid waking up her parents to tell them she'd done something bad. sirius tutted, pulling out his wand and casted a warming charm on her. "can we go ride the ferris wheel now?"

"of course, we can," sirius said brightly, all signs of his previous sour mood disappearing.

sirius led the way this time, bantering with lily as remus and [name] walked slightly behind. shoulders brushing against one another as they listened into their friends arguing.

somewhere between where they started to the waiting line, remus had managed to slip his hand into her's intertwining them together.

she looked up at him, surprised —not to mention, extremely flustered, and smiled. an action that remus reciprocated along with a comforting squeeze of her hand.

james, lily, sirius, and peter took a car of their own. insisting that remus was too tall (as if it made any sense) to fit into their carriage so it would be better to have her accompany him as to not have him be lonely. all four completely oblivious to just how obvious their match making attempt was.

"this is nice," remus commented absentmindedly, looking over his shoulder, "it's so pretty up here."

"it is," she concurred, eyes kept on remus. tinge of pink and blue with the slightest hint of purple, painted his face, green eyes shining brightly. "they're taking pictures of us."

remus turned abruptly, concern written all over his face, "what?"

"them." she pointed upwards, remus eyed her direction and found their friends in the other car grinning and waving at them.

lily had her polaroid camera in her hand, it pointing at them. she gestured her over, shouting about how she couldn't fit her into the frame unless she sat besides remus. she followed her request, moving to sit by his side and looked up at them.

their was a flash, lily took the first polaroid out and handed it to james who was besides her. "smile!" she shouted before adding, "move closer, [name]! you're too far away!"

again, she did what she was told, scooting over and rested her head on remus' shoulder, smiling up at lily. remus laid his head on top of hers, beaming at the camera as well. lily counted from three and the flash went, sitting back down when she was satisfied with its result.

remus hand found hers once more, holding onto it firmly. "i think i might fall asleep."

"go ahead," she said lightly, "i've been working on my levitation spell, i can get you back to hogwarts safely."

remus lifted his head up so he could look at her properly. "as much as i am honored to the first person you murder, i'm really not looking forward to dying so soon."

she moved away from his shoulder, gaping at him with mock offense. "you underestimate me, mister lupin."

"and i've always been correct with my underestimations."

"that's not a kind way to talk to your best friend."

"actually i can talk to my best friend however i want," he said matter-of-factly, "that's kind of the point of being best friends with someone, being able to act however you want."

"you know what," she said, scooting away from him, "i don't want to be near you anymore."

"is that so?" he taunted, pulling at her hand.

"it is."

"i don't believe you." he leaned forward, pushing at her buttons. the full moon was near, which meant remus' senses had been heightened, making the both of them fully aware of just how fast her heart was beating. "i really don't believe you."

within seconds his lips are on hers, closing the gap between him and her without any hesitation. the line of whether their relationship was platonic or romantic, now crossed. remus tilted his head, leaning down to help her from straining her neck. the kiss was innocent, pulling to a stop when they were ushered out of their car by their friends.

remus cheeks were red when he left the carriage, blaming it on the cold wind. james had swept remus into a conversation about the prosperity of churros when remus took her hand again, holding onto it as he amused james with questions.

sirius was walking besides her, hands tuck in his leather jacket. he nudged her lightly —an action that almost knocked her off of her feet if it weren't for remus catching her. remus scolded sirius quickly before turning to check on her, after being satisfied with her answer he turned back to james.

"i saw you," sirius said lowly, smirking, "you two think you're so sly but i see everything."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

"sirius, you're seventeen stop talking like you're in your eighties," she said exasperatedly, "and i'm really confuse right now. what the fuck do you mean you were once remus, were you once tall and cute or something?"

sirius made a face, one of offense and irritation with the slightest tint of hurt. "are you calling me short and ugly? you wound me, sweetheart."

"i'm not calling you short, sirius. it's just that i don't have the crippling fear that you would suddenly lick my head when i'm near you."

"tall people don't do that," sirius frowned, "do they?

"i wouldn't know," she shrugged.

"anyways." sirius dragged out, moving back to the topic at hand. "what i'm trying to say is that i've put someone in the same situation as you and moony right now. it doesn't end well, [name]."

"it's really confusing —and if i'm being completely honest here, i feel guilty for everything that happened," he confessed quietly, "i made it complicated. when it could've been so easy.

"so . . ." sirius trailed off, watching her with patient grey eyes, "talk to him. make sure you know where the two of you stand before everything goes wrong."

sirius gave her one last reassuring smile before he tuned into their friends discussion on churros. remus let out a laugh at one of james' comment, a pretty smile on his lips that may or may not have pulled at her heart string.

fuck remus, where did she stand?

•••

sirius was laying on the couch, james sitting on the floor besides him along with peter while remus sat on the armchair when lily and her found them in the gryffindor's common room. there was a girl, hunched over the coffee table, a small notebook in hand talking to james and sirius as she wrote down whatever she found important.

she must've felt her presence, looking up at them with a small smile. "dorcas, we had care of magical creatures together in third year."

she replied with her name, smiling as well. "what were you three talking about?"

"a project," she said enthusiastically.

lily sat down besides james, and patted the empty spot to her left for her to take. she was about to take a seat beside lily when something tugged at her hand, she turned, following the direction of her distraction and found remus smiling at her, his hand holding onto hers.

"sit with me." she was hesitant, not knowing where she was supposed to go when the chair was so small. remus must've noticed, pulling her directly into his lap and wrapped an arm around her waist, securing her in her spot.

dorcas didn't even bat an eyelash when she continued on, "would you like to hear about it?"

"sure."

dorcas began her explanation with a clap of her hands. "so i've been reading a new romance novel and in it there's this muggle newspapers thing where people can mail something they wanted to say to someone they loved or cared for, whether romantically or platonically, it was called the W.L.U segment —standing for words left unsaid."

"i thought it was cool so i asked dumbledore if i could somehow pull an event together and he said no but i'm known to be quite annoying so i used that to my advantage and eventually he agreed."

"so." she clapped her hands together. "on march, thirteen, the fifth floor corridor will be plastered by sticky notes with hand written words on them for each person that is submitted to. it is by first name only and there would be a spell to prevent you from actually recognizing who's ever hand writing it is, so everything will be anonymous."

she had many questions, unsure how everything will work out like dorcas planned it out to. there was thousands of students at hogwarts, how can she fit them all in the corridors (even if the name were to overlap), how will the letters be submitted if it was anonymous, and most importantly —how will filch's cat resist the urge to claw off all the notes?

instead she settled on asking, "march thirteen?"

"it's when my dad first met my mother," she said with small smile, "under a clementine tree."

"can everyone just submit anonymously?" peter asked, intrigued.

"that's pretty much the whole idea, no one would know who said what. we're giving out special notes that would magick itself out of your life the second you've finished writing and it would be added to the wall. the notes will be owled out to everyone, because if you saw someone trying to get the notes you'll be suspicious of them, ya know?"

and then she added, "the identities would be unknown unless you sign it off with your full name, or initials for whoever it is you wrote it to, to guess. it's up to you really, if you want your identity to be known then you make it known."

"are you sure it will stay anonymous?" he followed up skeptically.

"cross my heart. not even the ones preparing this project would know."

•••

march came fast, so did remus' birthday —an event that had left her more confuse then she was before hand. the marauders had threw him a surprise party, one she attended in high spirits.

around midnight, marlene had dragged her into a circle where their friends was waiting for her. "we're playing truth or dare," she had told her.

the first few rounds was fun for the most part, her having done stupid dares that had spilled out of peter's drunken lips (the gryffindor is the funniest when he's absolutely wasted).

remus' birthday cake sat in the center of the circle, everyone enjoying their slices while they played the game. remus picked dare for the third time, keeping up with the courageous gryffindor spirit.

dorcas perked up at this, getting her word in before anyone else could. "i dare you to kiss the person you find most beautiful in this room."

sirius had pouted his lips out for him only to be blatantly ignored by remus. the room was —more or less— unphased when remus had made his way over to [name], cupping her face and kissed her.

soft and quick.

when he pulled away, he made his way back to his seat and acted like nothing had happened.

dorcas nudged her from her right, giggling slightly as she spoke, "i knew he would kiss you."

then the question she tried so desperately to forget resurfaces. what were they? where did she stand?

the next day comes and dumbledore introduced the project at dinner, letting dorcas up on the podium which she spoke at proudly, informing everyone of her plans and answering any questions they had.

the notes arrived the next morning, students walked around chatting about who they planned to write to and by dinner time half of the castle had written and sent off their first notes.

march, thirteen came and she was rudely awakened by dorcas and sirius pounding at her door, announcing that the project has been opened for viewing and that they needed to see it as soon as possible.

she quickly got dressed and followed them into the common room. stood by the entrance was the rest of their friend group, all looking tired out of their mind.

james led the way towards the fifth floor, the corridors walls littered with notes, all belonging to a group of names in alphabetical order.

their group went through the names one by one, being nosy when there seemed to be some sort of drama in the mysterious notes. some of the notes were on the sweet side, some malicious.

james was a common name but they were —luckily enough— able to identify which one was their james based off of how some referred him as 'the quidditch king' or 'james, potter, james potter' or the last (and definitely sirius' favorite way of identifying james out of them all) was 'james, the four eyed one.'

there was various love confessions, some cussing him for not giving them a position on the gryffindor's quidditch team, and some compliments about how much they wanted to run their hands through his beautiful, beautiful hair.

"you smell." sirius read out loud, ignoring the tiny :) that was drawn on the note to laugh at james' face. "i think that's for you, prongs."

"shut up, pads. you smell like wet dog."

then was the letter R standing tall above the name remus. on the wall stuck countless amount of notes, all confessing just how pretty they thought remus was. his pretty eyes, his pretty nose, his pretty lips and how much they wanted to kiss it and his stupidly pretty hands.

"good god moony, what spell have you put hogwarts under," james said slightly horrified, his eyes gluing to each notes that stuck under the name remus, "what have you done?"

"i haven't done anything," remus replied, his tone defensive, "and we can't be sure this is about me, i'm not the only person named remus."

"yeah but you're the only person in this school with that name." dorcas pointed out, just as fascinated as the rest of them with the amount of letters he received.

something caught her attention, making her take a step forward so she could get a better look at it. dorcas turned to her friend, fingers pointed at a note written in blue paper. "this handwriting looks familiar."

she followed dorcas' hand, reading the note to herself. i'm so confuse, remus. where do i stand? am i your girlfriend or am i just a girl that's a friend?

below it was another note written with same handwriting. i shouldn't have let you kissed me the first time and i definitely shouldn't have let you done it the second since all it did was amplify how i feel for you.

sirius cleared his throat loudly, pulling their attention to him. "this is boring," he began, grey eyes firmly locked with her, "let's go read mine."

he pulled her away with a smile to the others, hoping that they'd follow without questioning. "you wrote it didn't you?"

"wrote what." she acted oblivious, standing before the wall filled with notes for the name sirius. he, like remus, was the only one with that name.

"those notes." he rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"isn't there supposed to be a spell to prevent people from knowing who wrote it?"

"there is," he concurred, "i actually don't know for sure. 's why i'm asking you. i don't recognize your hand writing but i know the situation mentioned like the back of my hands. i can only assume and i know they can too."

"so now everyone knows that i'm confused about what remus and i are?"

"pretty much," lily joined in, standing besides her. "god, sirius why is so many people angry at you?"

"why people are upset with me is not important right now," said sirius distractedly, "what's important is that moony read those notes —just like we did, need i remind you— and he still hasn't come to try and talk to you."

"maybe he doesn't know it's from me—"

"remus is not a basket case, darling," cut in sirius. "he's being slow on purpose."

lily tsked. "men are stupid, [name]." she reminded, not sparing a second at the baffled look sirius threw her. "let's go read the ones with your name on it."

there was only so many notes for someone with her name, all littered with different colors and signed with their initials on it. she didn't know half of the possible initials but one specifically caught her eyes.

r.l

she hoped, despite knowing that she shouldn't, hoped that it was from him and that he had written it for her.

above the initials was the note itself, written in a set of neat handwritings that was so similar and yet so unidentifiable, it had her heart jumping to her throat.

i had hoped that one day i could shun you out of my mind but i cannot, not when you are the only thing running through it. not when the idea that you'd let me kiss you again is stuck in my mind. the same mind that hasn't stopped thinking about you before i even knew how much i liked you.

i can only hope you would forgive me for it. r.l

"you know," sirius said slowly, eyeing the note, "this whole confession thing would be so much easier if you just talked to each other."

"like you're the one to talk sirius," lily scoffed, "you wrote regulus a lengthy five note apology letter instead of just saying sorry."

sirius flushed at that, turning away from lily bashfully as he muttered under his breath about how she was no fun.

•••

dinner came after classes as usual. dumbledore gave the podium once more to dorcas for her to express just how grateful she was that so many people participated in the project, welcoming feedbacks with open arms.

dorcas thanked james, lily, and sirius, respectfully giving them credit where it's due. dorcas was half way off the podium when her eyes widened comically, running back towards frantically. "just one more thing."

"if someone has said something to you and you're sure that it's meant for you from that special someone." dorcas looked at her pointedly, making her avert her eyes. "talk to them, work it out. that's all, goodnight."

dessert wasn't even able to make its appearance when she was hunted down by the marauders.

"i need to talk to you." remus took a step forward cautiously. "please?"

the five of them trudge towards the nearest empty room, the other three boys leaving to give them privacy. "so," she drawled, "what did you want to talk about?"

"why did you ask me if you were my girlfriend?" he asked directly, not seeing the point of beating around the bush.

"isn't it self explanatory?"

"no, it's not actually," said remus, annoyance etching into his tone, "would you care to explain why you said so?"

"i said it so because, i wasn't sure if i was."

"you weren't sure if you were my girlfriend?" remus scoffed, narrowing his eyes incredulously, "then what were you?"

"i dunno," she said lowly, feeling stupid that this conversation was even happening in the first place, "it's what i'm trying to find out."

"okay wait." remus took in a deep breath, his hand in a pausing motion. "so for the last three months, i thought that you were my girlfriend while you thought i was just some friend who goes around kissing people?"

"that's not—"

"it's not? because, it seems to me like you thought so."

"well it's not my fault you never made it clear!"

"and it's not my fault you never asked," he argued, "because, if you did —for even just once, we wouldn't be fighting right now."

she stared at him in silence, feeling speechless. "i'm so confuse."

"you're confuse?" he asked, almost taunting, "i'm fucking confuse. i've been thinking that you were my girlfriend since i kissed you in that goddamn ferris wheel."

"you thought we've been dating for three months?"

"yes," he said with a nod, "since we went on that ferris wheel and i kissed you. you didn't pull away, you kissed me back so i thought the feelings were mutual but apparently not."

"so that night," she murmured slowly, "your birthday." she clarified. "you kissed me because you were my 'boyfriend' and not because you were drunk."

"i kissed you because, you truly were the most beautiful person in that room," remus sighed, "why would you even think otherwise?"

"i don't know—" she paused, feeling pathetic, "it's just something sirius said after we kissed, it got me thinking—"

"of course, it's fucking sirius," remus cut in, laughing dryly, "the lad makes one relationship mistake and thinks he's qualified to go off and give advice. look where that got us now."

they could hear a scowl from outside the room before a smack landed, a loud ow! and a shut up you twat, you messed this up once already following in its wake.

"nowhere bad," she said, defending sirius slightly, "he actually told me to talk to you but i didn't so it's technically my fault."

"it's not your fault, [name]." remus frowned. "this could never be your fault. i kissed you not once but twice and never bothered to talk to you about it. it was stupid of me to think it was mutual."

"but it was, remus," she told him, "the kiss. everything. it was all mutual. i just— i didn't know that i was your girlfriend."

"then i must be one shitty boyfriend," he snickered, chewing on his bottom lip.

"will you just shut up and kiss me?" she took a step towards him. "as my boyfriend this time."

remus met her in the middle, smiling shyly. "how could i ever say no to you."

—from bee: this is incredibly inspired by the unsent project,, check it out it’s pretty cool!!

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin crack #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin Humor #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin Angst #remus lupin scenarios #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin #🧳: my writing

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lesorus · 1 year

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A thing I noticed growing up having a lot of physical altercations with my brother is how much defending yourself as a woman is looked down upon. If my older brother that started bodybuilding at 13 pushed or hit me, sure he would get a scold, being told he doesn't know his strength, but when i started digging my nails into his arms and scratching him somehow, i became responsible for defending myself. I wasn't just abusing power like he was, I was called a snake, vicious. To the point my mother made him hold me down while she cut my nails so short you could see my nail beds as punishment at 14 and i wasnt allowed to grow them out again. Scratching and biting was for animals she'd say, as if hitting wasn't. Well sure I had the option to hit him back, but the taller, stronger he grew the more laughable it was.

Then i started screaming in prevention, before he hit me, when he was threatening me, if i felt scared or overwhelmed. It was a good tactic because if anyone was home they would run there and intervene. He would say he didn't even hit me yet, that I was acting and a liar, and sure I was but I couldnt really defend myself against him otherwise could I? Nobody would care if I said he was threatening me but surely the blood curdling screams I would let out worked well enough. Until my parents realised I was lying, an actress they'd call me, a filthy liar. As if I was supposed to get hit and cry on the ground until i waited they do something.

If i broke something of his in retaliation or threatened to hurt his reputation, hurt him in one of the few ways i could, i was evil, a little demon. I was always punished, but he never got the same treatment for pushing me around, or using his physical strength to hurt me, because whatever I could do in emotional or material damage was sure worse than me crying in pain. Oh and sure, I was called the girl crying wolf whenever I was physically injured because I had faked being hurt before in order to have an adult intervene.

I was only worthy of help if i was completely helpless and a full victim, the second I tried to defend myself I became responsible, because somehow self defense was always worse than the act that prompted it. Because the scratches I gave were comparable to bruises, lies were worse than serious threats of violence, ripping a shirt was way worse than getting beaten to the ground. His violence was an excess of his masculinity to my parents, deserving of a scold but not of serious punishment, it was natural for him. Self defense and fear on my part was animalistic and wrong. A woman is supposed to be pure, a victim if she wants help.

#radfem safe #radical feminism #radfems please interact #radfems do touch #male violence

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short-honey-badger · 2 months

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Peppermint Tea 31 - All Blends 2

Holy crap is this chapter a doozy lol. It's quite a bit longer than my other chapters. Lotta stuff happens. So I hope you enjoy!

Warnings! None this time? Sad stuff happens ofc. We are introduced to someone new.

P.s. I was going to use some random son for Big Mom but like. I did a Lil research and I can't help but like Katakuri. 😬 again. I apologize if Big Mom and Kata seem a bit off. I'm trying to keep myself spoiler free for the anime.

Masterlist

Benn runs through the courtyards of Mihawk's castle, dodging swipes from the Humandrals until he hears the sound of striking steel. He turns that way, picking up speed as he goes until he arrives at a small clearing in the dirt. Shanks and Mihawk are both grinning, a joy so easy to see that Benn thinks he may go blind. Usually, he'd stay and watch, but he can still hear your terrified voice pleading for help.

He slides to a stop, and the two men sparing turn and look at him, brows raised.

“Benn? What's going on?” Shanks asks his first mate. Benn wouldn't come get him unless it was important.

“It's, _ Shanks. They found her.”

The temperature of the surrounding area plummets, and all ambient noise disappears. Neither man can believe what they are hearing. They'd both been so sure that no one would be able to find your tiny island tucked away in Paradise, so close to the Calm Belt that most ships would be torn apart by sea kings. How could this have happened?

“What did you say?” Mihawk hisses and his grip on Yoru tightens to the point of pain, his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. He ignores the feeling of hot liquid dripping down his hand.

Shanks isn't faring much better. He looks ashen, pale faced and nervous. He and Benn share a look, one that Mihawk easily catches.

“_ called the transponder snail. She said that the Big Mom pirates had made landfall,” Benn frowns, one hand running through his graying hair.

“She sounded terrified.”

Mihawk is moving before his mind fully registers what's going on. He speeds through the castle, grabbing his coat and bag he'd packed the other day in case you called them. His haki is lashing, sending furniture falling and making the old stone walls of the castle crack and fracture. The ringing of his snail grabs his attention, and Hawkeye grabs it before loping out of the castle and to the bay.

Shanks is right behind him, Benn keeping up with his captain. It is with a silent, shared look with his lover that Mihawk reluctantly steps aboard the Red Force. He isn't fond of being on another's ship, especially one as big as this one, but like hell, would he let the younger man out of his sight.

While Shanks is barking orders, Mihawk takes the time to answer the still ringing snail that he clutches too tightly.

Ca-lick

“Mihawk! Finally! I've been calling forever!”

Perona’s shrill voice is a little comfort, but fear still clutches Dracule by the heart. She is rattling on before he can get a word in.

“You've got to get back to _’s island. She thinks it might be Big Mom and her crew!”

Mihawk feels a vein pop in his brow with his hard he scowls down at the snail.

“I know! Where are you? How quickly can you go back?”

“I'm three days out! So, two and a half if the sea doesn't hate me. What if she's already gone? What if…what if it's worse?”

Mihawk can hear the thickness in Perona’s voice and knows that the ghost girl is probably crying now, having worked herself up in a tizzy. He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Perona. I need you to calm down, girl. Listen to me when I say that _ will be fine. We can handle anything that's happened, but I need you to do something for me, okay?”

He hears the pinkette sniff over the transponder, but she sounds like she's gotten a hold of herself.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to go back to her island. Find out if she's still there, but be safe. If you see her jolly roger, then you sail right to us. You've got your log pose, right?”

Perona sniffs again and nods even though her father-figure can't see it, “Yeah.”

“Good. If the island is clear, then investigate carefully.” He stresses the word, “Call me back as soon as you can, got it?”

“Yes, Mihawk. Will she really be okay?”

His heart breaks at the fear that he can hear swimming in his charge’s voice. He licks his lips. He is terrified in all honesty, but he keeps it together for her sake.

“She will be. Be safe, Perona.”

The ghost girl assures the older man that she will be careful and the transmission ends after that. Mihawk pockets the snail and looks around the ship to try and find Shanks.

The redhead is at the helm, still barking orders at his crew. Dracule picks his way past the pirates until he arrives at his lover's side. Shanks glances at him and then looks away, his haki curling tight around himself as if he was trying to hide away from the other man. Mihawk can't help but feel a little hurt.

Shanks is panicking. How could he tell Mihawk that all of this was his fault? That it had been him That had slipped up, his lips loose with drink and his heart heavy with wistful thoughts of his treasure that night so long ago.

The hawk hadn't trusted him with this from the beginning, and it killed him to admit that Mihawk had been right about Shanks after all? All the trust and affection that his lover had given him would go up in flames so quickly that Shanks wouldn't even be given a chance to mourn it. The redhead had little doubt that Mihawk would spirit you away from him as soon as he was able once he found out about his mistake.

The captain keeps himself busy for as long as he is able, but Mihawk is nothing if not patient, and he stays by his side until there are no more orders to be said. Before he can make a getaway, his hawk grabs him by the arm and practically drags him across the deck and into the Captain quarters. Shanks could have wrestled away, but then Mihawk would have been even more suspicious of him.

Shanks is shoved in a chair, and his lover putters around the room, pouring them both a drink before settling down in the seat across from Shanks. He sips delicately, but Shanks' nerves have him knocking back the glass of rum like it's a shot of whiskey. He jumps when Dracule speaks up.

“Perona is three days out from _’s island. She'll call me with news as soon as she gets there and if the island is clear or not.”

Shanks forces himself to nod. He licks his lips and scrubs his hand through his hair, “Good. That's good.”

Mihawk raises a brow at the other man's attitude. The man was acting more like a scared rabbit than the powerful Emperor that Dracule knows him to be. He sets his glass away and stands, crossing the short distance to stand between the redhead’s legs, and sets his hands on those tense shoulders. Mihawk guides him forward to rest his head against his bare chest, and his hands snake up to thread into red hair.

“How are we going to find her, Mihawk?”

The Emperor’s voice sounds shot, broken and beaten, and it breaks his heart listening to it. His grip tightens in Shanks’ hair, and Mihawk sighs softly.

“I don't know. But we'll search every island in Big Mom’s territory if we have to.”

~~~~~ Tomura ~~~~~

Tomura dashes through the streets of the city, a mischievous smirk on his face when he looks behind him and sees his little sister chasing after him. You look furious, but the expression just looks adorable on her chubby baby face. Tomura had snatched her favorite blanket this morning to try and wake up the sleepy head, and the chase had been on since.

Obviously, he wasn't going as fast as he could. Tomura was older than her by almost a decade, after all, and he didn't want his sister to get lost in the crowds of people. Not that the citizens of their Kingdom would let their only princess get lost.

The people laughed and urged her in the way her oldest brother ran, encouraging her to catch up to him. Their king and Queen had always been kind to their subjects, and in turn, they stayed loyal to the royal family.

Tomura slows to a stop, ducking behind a stall selling fruit and waiting for his little sister to dash past him. He springs out and grabs her by the waist, spinning you around in the air. You shriek in laughter, clutching at his wrists as he turns his lower body into dust and flies back the way he came, back to the castle and to where breakfast awaits.

Tomura opens his eyes, squinting when the sun makes them water. He wonders what you look like now. Had you found a way to survive and flourish after he left you behind? Would you even remember him? The thought of you not knowing who he is made his chest tight with fear and his throat clog with emotions he carefully hid from his men. Could you forgive him for leaving you behind, even if it had been the best course of action?

An angry scowl twists his lips, and Delemur lets out a string of quiet curses, mostly centered around a certain red-headed Emperor who had somehow stumbled across the safe house. Damn Red-Haired Shanks.

“Captain! We're going to make landfall soon!” The voice of one of his crew startled Tomura out of the fond memory and his less than savory thoughts. He rubs his face, sighing as he straightens up from where he'd been leaning on the railing.

“How long?” The white-haired man asks and looks at the lieutenant before him.

“Lookout said we're about thirty minutes out, Sir.”

Tomura nods. They would need to be prepared if some of Big Mom’s crew were there. Same with Shanks and his crew.

“Get the men prepared for a skirmish. Big Mom won't be here, but I'd bet she'd send some of her stronger men to get my sister.”

The news of his little sister being the reason behind his sudden disregard of orders had swept through the ship quicker than scurvy. But his marines were loyal, and technically, they were still chasing after pirates, so the higher ups could be too mad at them.

“Yes, Sir!” his lieutenant snapped, and then he was off, getting the other crew members up and running.

Tomura stalked to the front of the ship, and from here, he could see the outline of your island. His mouth twists in a grimace, and he prays that he's gotten here quick enough to beat Big Mom’s crew.

However, the closer he gets, the more his chest grows tight. There is grey smoke rising into the sky on the east side of the island, and even after so long away, Tomura knows that is where the safe house is.

The shore comes into view soon, and Delemur frowns when he sees a small ship docked at the shore, a large cross on the flag. He's seen that before, but he doesn't understand why Dracule Mihawk would have a shit all the way out here. Maybe it'd been stolen?

They drop anchor in the next couple of minutes, and Tomura flies ahead and drops to the sand, taking a look around with a frown. The beach looked awful, the beautiful sands trampled all the way up to where it became grass. Most of the lush forest had been torn down, most likely caused by the larger members of the raid party. He followed the trail up, picking up the pace until he was in an all-out run.

Tomura slides to a stop, sticken at the sight before him. The entire place is a disaster, the cottage a charred husk of what it used to be. The scent of burning wood is thick in the air, and the once lush and full gardens that you had cared for have been overturned and stomped on. He can see the broken remains of a small pen on the side of the building, but there were no animals in sight.

Carefully, he steps forward, bending down to collect a shard of green sea glass that had survived the fire. The Vice-Admiral flips it end over end then pockets it before walking inside the destruction. The living room is full of burned books and clothes, the furniture broken and ashen like the rest of the house. There is a shelf holding on for dear life, an old record player with a stack of melted records resting beside it.

Tomura moves to the kitchen, taking in the shattered glass of the window and the many planters that take up the majority of counter space, each plant dry and brittle or nothing but ash. A wind chime is still intact, and he reaches forward to brush the pads of his fingers across the metal tube, frowning when the beautiful melody fills the air. That kind of sound didn't belong in such destruction.

Onward Tomura goes, learning about his little sister as best he can through the ruins of her home. Your love for music and books could easily be seen, but how could he ever know what they were? What is your favorite song to listen to now, or what you liked to do on long lazy days. Were you all alone? The pen outside suggested his sister had found animals, but where were they?

Your bedroom was in a bit better shape from the rest of the house since the door had been shut before the fire had started. Tomura carefully sits on the ashen bed, green eyes looking at everything he can as quickly as he can see. He wanted to know everything about you. He had missed so much of your life, and the regret of leaving you behind was suffocating.

Would you have been safer in the military? Maybe, but Sengoku would have taken one look at you and your devil fruit and thrown you into training, just like they did with him. Tomura didn't want that for his baby sister. He had wanted you to live a good life, even if it would be a lonely one.

His thoughts are stalled when he catches sight of what hangs in your closet. His green eyes zero in on the long coat with a high collar decorated with intricate designs. Delemur knows that coat. He has seen it on the occasional times he had run into Mihawk.

The two of them had a mutual understanding to not speak about what had happened between them. Tomura didn't like that the older man had helped Big Mom, but being in the Navy gave him a different perspective. Not to mention his own skeletons hidden away in his closet, and in the end, Mihawk had been the reason that Tomura and his sister got out alive. They were even as far as he cared.

But seeing the Warlord’s coat made him pause. The tiny ship in the bay had already been suspicious, but the coat only added to his rising confusion. All the rumors had pointed at Shanks being the one to have found you, so then why in the fuck wasn't he seeing anything that might belong to the Emperor?

The sound of a bleating goat suddenly grabs his attention, and then he picks up the sound of his men shouting. Delemur bolts out of the house and finds Mihawk's pink charge, Perona glaring daggers at his men, specifically Private Nitchell, who points a shaking pistol at the young woman. Three chickens and an ornery looking goat stand behind her.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” He demands, and glares at the private, “Stand down, Nitchell. Does she look like a threat to you?”

The young man shakes his head, a blush high on his cheeks at getting reprimanded, “No, Sir! Sorry, Sir!”

The Vice-Admiral watches Nitchell stow his weapon and back up from where the ghost girl looks ready to tear his head off. Tomura rounds on the pinkette, cockimg a brow at her.

“Perona right? The hell are you doing here?” He demands and crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed by the glare that she proceeds to aim at him.

“What's it to you?” She spits at him and floats up, crossing her own arms. He spots several ghosts behind her and prepares to turn himself into dust if one flies at him. He'd seen what those things could do. However, his annoyance skyrockets at her answer, and Tomura is hard pressed not to reach out and try to wring her neck.

“I asked you first,” he snarls right back, and feels like he is arguing with a little kid when Perona sticks her tongue out at him.

“I was coming to visit my friend, Navy Man. You should leave before my dad gets here.”

Tomura rolls his eyes and ignores the threat, “Your friend is my little sister. How did you find this place?”

Whatever argument that Perona was hyping herself up for deflated like a popped balloon when she registered what the marine said. She looks him over, dark eyes flickering from head to toe. The more she sees, the less Perona thinks that this man is lying. He looks like you. His cheekbones and brow are a familiar and comforting sight. But what should she tell him? Perona didn't think that Mihawk would be very happy with her if she happened to spill the beans on everything that he's been doing.

Perona licks her lips and floats back down, dismissing her ghosts and setting a hand on top of Neal's head. The goat grunts at her and butts his head into her hand, happy that the only other person he tolerated had found him and the three chickens hidden away in the intact part of the forest.

“Mihawk found this place a few years ago. After a while, he told me about your sister, and I wanted to be her friend. She seemed lonely, and I know what that's like,” Perona begins and shifts her weight with a sniff. She's been here for two days looking for anything that would help them find out where Big Mom’s crew may have taken you. The only luck she had was finding your goat and chickens. Hank and Sukuna were nowhere to be found.

Tomura's hands clenched into fists at the information. Mihawk had known about you for years, and Delemur was just now finding out about it. How were Shanks involved then? To his knowledge, the redhead and the hawk stayed away from one another. Until recently, that is.

Just what the hell had his baby sister gotten up to?

“She called me five days ago and said that some of Big Mom’s crew had found her island. I came as fast as I could, but I was too late. Shanks and Mihawk are on their way here now.”

Tomura doesn't like the thought of such powerful men working together and all for the sake of his little sister. What had you done to catch their attention? Did he even want to know the answer to that?

“How long until they get here?” Tomura asks after a moment. He would wait here until they arrived. At least he wouldn't have to go tracking the pirates down. He had a couple of choice words to give both of them now that he knows that Mihawk has been here as well. That bastard had looked him in the face not four months ago and had said nothing about knowing you.

Perona shrugs at him, her face morphing into a pout, “I don't know. Another week?”

Shanks and his crew were strong enough to go through the Calm Belt if they wanted to, and that would cut their travel time down by a lot. Gloom Island was a two week trip from here by normal means.

Tomura grumbles at having to wait that long, but he isn't that much of an asshole, and so stalks forward and offers Perona his hand.

“I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot with you. My name is Tomura. Thank you for being my sister's friend.”

The ghost girl blinks dumbly up at him before tentatively taking his hand and shaking it.

“Uh. You're welcome?” Perona has never been thanked for being someone's friend before. It was a little weird, but Tomura seemed genuine and kind like you. Just a bit more…violent it seemed.

Tomura blushes and takes his hand away, rubbing them together before pointing at Neal and the chickens, hoping to change the subject.

“Are those _’s?”

Perona nods and introduces Neal and the chickens. She couldn't remember if you had named the fowl, so she had taken it upon herself to name the rooster Henry and the two hens Harriet and Henrietta. The crew of his ship piddled around the island while Perona told Tomura stories about his little sister, and soon, the sun was beginning to set on the little island. He sighs heavily and invites Perona on his ship for dinner. They may as well get to know one another if they were to be stuck on an island together for the next couple of days.

Those days pass in the blink of an eye, and it is late in the evening on the fifth day when the lookout on his ship announces that the Red Force is entering the bay. Tension skyrockets, and Perona stands away from Tomura while they watch the pirate ship navigate to the shore. She can see two people standing at the bow of the ship, and tears of relief sprout in her eyes when she spots Mihawk's wide hat.

~~~~~~

The fear and anxiety that Shanks has felt during the entire trip explodes the moment they spot the navy vessel docked at his treasure's island. Of course, the rumors had reached your brother. Shanks should have known Tomura would be on his way here to see you. He curls his haki close to himself, refusing to let the older man feel just how manic he is right now. He needed to keep his head clear for this.

Next to him, Mihawk's haki lashes like an angry snake, golden eyes wide and full of fire when he sees the ship. He recognizes who it belongs to and cuts his eyes over at Shanks, who won't even look his way. Dracule had been silent about his concerns with just how Big Mom had found out, and he doesn't like the picture that has been painted for him. He doesn't want to accuse anyone of anything until he has all the knowledge he needs.

Mihawk and Shanks flash to the shore, and the warlord gets an armful of sad ghost girl the second his feet touch sand. Perona buries her face in his chest, arms wrapping around his waist and holding the warlord tightly. Tears sprout and run down her cheeks, and Mihawk can do nothing but sigh and hold the young woman close, one hand stroking the back of her pink hair.

Shanks steps up beside him, a kind smile that he forces on his lips as he pats Perona on the back, “It's alright, kid. We're here now.”

Mihawk shoots him a grateful look, and thankfully, Perona decides to pull away, reaching up to wipe her eyes free of smeared makeup.

“It took you two long enough to get here,” She grumbles and takes a step away, turning to look over at the Vice-Admiral, “Tomura has kept me company.”

Dracule looks up and catches the Navy man's eyes, the green dark and full of suppressed rage. He doesn't expect the younger man to bypass him almost immediately, instead, aiming that almost familiar glare at Shanks. The tension deepens, and sand is kicked up by the haki that coils between the three men. Tomura wasn't anywhere near the pirate's power level, but that wasn't about to stop him. The Emperor was the one responsible for his baby sister getting taken.

“Did he, now,” Mihawk murmurs and carefully maneuvers Perona to stand slightly behind him. He didn't want her to get caught in this, and the Warlord could tell that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be very pretty.

Tomura isn't here to beat around the bush and cuts straight to the case, “Did you have any fucking plans to tell me that you knew my sister, Mihawk? How the hell did you even find her?”

Mihawk keeps his face free of any kind of expression that may give away his true feelings. Brother or not, Mihawk wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now. Not when you were obviously still missing. What he doesn't expect is Tomura rounding on Shanks, his tone dropping and turning dangerous.

“And you, you son a bitch. You're the fucking reason my gods damned baby sister was found.”

The silence that blankets the shore of the island is deafening. Tomura grins meanly when he sees that panic that pools in Shanks’ dark eyes and stands taller, pointing an accusing finger at the redhead. Mihawk follows the gesture, his heart seizing in his chest when he catches sight of the look of devastation that paints his lover's face. He takes two steps back, bringing Perona with him, away from the man who had promised Dracule that he could trust him.

“You promised me, Shanks,” Mihawk remarks and tries to keep the hurt out of his tone, but the younger man easily picks up on it, making him feel worse than scum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. The hurt quickly turns to anger, and the warlord reaches for Yuro, the blade swinging around to point at Shanks.

“You promised me that you would keep your mouth shut! You drunken, lying bastard. I never should have put my trust in you again.”

His ringed eyes blaze with a rage Mihawk hasn't felt in decades. Not since he was young and impressionable. His heart feels shattered, and out of everything, disappointment rings through his body like a live wire. He shouldn't have allowed the redhead to pass his walls.

Shanks’ eyes widen at the threat, and he takes a couple of steps back from the wicked blade. His own hand curls around Gryphon, and Shanks braces for the fight that would no doubt happen because of his mistakes. He didn't want to fight Mihawk, but he would defend himself if the older man made the first move. He quickly began to explain before Dracule could try and take his head from his shoulders.

“I know, and I'm so sorry, Mihawk. I was drunk that night, and I missed the two of you so much. I didn't know I was being so loud until Benn told me to shut it. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Shanks is pushed back when Mihawk's haki lashes out, his face flushed red from how angry he is at the lame excuse. How dare he.

“When are you not drunk off your ass, Shanks? There is no excuse that you can give me that will make any of this okay. _ is gone! Most likely slated to be married off to one of Charlotte’s sons because of your inability to keep your mouth shut!”

Perona grabbing him by the arm is the only thing that prevents Mihawk from following after Shanks. He glares at her, about to snap at the girl to let him go, when he sees the unshed tears and fear in her dark eyes.

“We need his help finding her, Mihawk,” Perona says, voice thick with emotion. She doesn't like seeing them fight, and it hurts seeing what she has begun to call family fall apart in front of her eyes.

Her words seem to bring everyone back to the situation at hand, and the wild haki from the three men is pulled back and settled. Tomura relaxes his shoulders, shifting his weight and glaring at the two pirates.

“She's right. Big Mom has a lot of territory. It'll take months for us to search each of her islands if we don't work together,” Delemur frowns even as he speaks, disliking the idea of working with the men who'd found his sister. What even were the three of them?

“What is she to you?” Tomura demands and regrets it the second both men look at him like he was an idiot.

“We,” Mihawk begins and then swiftly corrects himself. He didn't want anything to do with Shanks right now, “I love her. She had no idea who I was when I found her, and it was…refreshing to have someone like that. We should move quickly. _ is in a delicate state.”

Tomura doesn't even want to think about what that means and glances at Shanks for the redhead’s answer.

Shanks shifts his weight, his hand falling from his sword once Mihawk had sheathed his own, but he keeps his distance. He gives Tomura a helpless shrug.

“My crew and I drifted close to her island one day, and we got to know one another. I can admit I was jealous of what Mihawk had with her, so we made it work. The three of us.”

Tomura doesn't know what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth glued shut. How the hell had his little sister pulled not one but two of some of the most powerful men on the Grand Line. He would ask once he found her.

“I'll use whatever resources the Navy can give me to find her,” Tomura says after a moment of rather awkward silence. He reaches into his pocket and takes out two mini transponder snails, and hands them to Shanks and Mihawk.

“I'll ring you if I find anything. I hope the two of you do the same.”

Mihawk dips his head in agreement, handing the snail to Perona and Shanks pockets his. They would work together to find you, even if none of them wanted to.

“I'm going to take a look around and see if we can't find something that'll lead us in the right direction,” Shanks says and whistles loudly to signal to his crew that it was fine to disembark from the ship now. He chances a glance at Mihawk, but the dark-haired man refuses to look his way. He frowns, guilt eating him up from the inside out before he lopes away without a word.

“Perona and I will head to the New World and begin our search,” Mihawk says and then he struts to the ship Perona had taken from his island, not bothering to look back at the Vice-Admiral. He can't bring himself to search the island. Dracule had seen the smoke curling into the sky, and seeing whatever remained of his home away from home would only make the hurt worse.

Tomura is left standing alone on the white sands, and he sighs heavily, looking out over the crashing waves. He smooths his white hair away from his forehead, and he murmurs to himself.

“Where the hell did they take you, Princess.”

~~~~~~

Thousands of miles away, you are escorted past hallways full of mirrors that make you feel dizzy if you look too closely. You cast your eyes back to the floor, one hand tangled in the fur of Hank's shaggy coat and the other holding Sukuna close to your chest. Your pets had chased after the men who had dragged you kicking and screaming from the tiny cave you'd forced yourself into.

Surprisingly, once they had seen that you were pregnant, the men had handled you with much more care and had even allowed you to take the cat and dog with you. Despite not wanting to leave, you had been much more willing once they assured you that you could have them. Hank and Sukuna were the only two things keeping you sane right now.

Sukuna wouldn't stop hissing, a constant low growl echoing in the hallway. His tail was poofed, and he glared at everyone with furious golden eyes. Hank fared no better, his hackles raised, and his ears pulled up. He stayed pressed against his human’s legs as they walked, unwilling to let you out of his sight.

It wasn't long before your group stopped at massive double doors that creaked open. You waltz inside, relieved at the lack of creepy mirrors, but that relief disappears the moment your eyes lay on who hovers in the middle of the room. She is the biggest human you've ever seen, sitting atop a cloud that glares down at you.

Beside her, another massive man stands. He has deep purplish hair, and the bottom half of his face is covered in a black and white scarf. He wears an open vest, and you can see a tattoo running down his exposed chest.

“It's about time you showed up,” Big Mom’s booming voice startles you, and you cut your eyes up to look at her. She grins down at you, her smile wicked as she looks you over.

“Such a pretty young thing. You'll make a nice wife for my son Katakuri. Don't you think so?”

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27 @breadedloafs @enpvrirnce @gottalovethefandom

#reader insert #fanfic #one piece #fluff #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #shanks x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x you #mishanks x reader #mishanks #opla shanks #Peppermint Tea #charlotte katakuri #one piece x reader

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chelseeebe · 1 year

Text

fatefully.

summary: your roommate is incessant in setting you up with his friend. when things get tough, can he persevere through your anything-but-normal life?

i acc liked this and then the more i kept writing, the more i started to h8 it but i hope that you can appreciate some eddie fluff hehe. i have had the worst eddie brain rot recently idk what’s goin awnnn i acc rlly want to do a p2 w some angst (obviously) but i don’t know.. potentially.

modern!eddie au

smut(18+), mentions of hospitals and sick brother ! erm alcohol n weed usage 2 no use of y/n!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❤︎ ❤︎ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you were losing the will to live. the continuous banging had been going on for what seemed like hours. the pillow doing nothing to muffle the sound either.

the roommate situation with steve had been going well so far. he kept to himself, kept his shit clean and seemed to be an incredibly polite guy from what you saw of him. not that that was very often.

trying to balance an internship and a supposed to be part-time but was something more like full-time bar job meant that you rarely crossed paths. mostly coming home in the early hours and crashing before you had to be up again in a number of hours to do it all again.

either way, it all seemed well and good until tonight. he'd bought some girl over before you got back. you could hear the giggles through the door the second you walked in. rolling your eyes and hoping that they'd at least shut up when they heard you were home.

nada.

you could hear every second of their session and the subsequent pillow talk that followed. making out that her name was georgia and she had an incredibly high-pitched, whiny voice that made your teeth clench.

though, you must've dozed off at some point, waking to the god-awful sound of your alarm. ready for another twelve hour long day on four hours of sleep. oh goody.

when you finally get home after what felt like the longest day ever, steve’s still awake, slumped on the couch watching some intense movie. he was alone, no georgia in sight. so you thank the high heavens that you might actually sleep tonight.

‘hey,’ smiling politely as he pauses the tv, sitting up properly.

‘what’re you still doing up?’ you ask, he’d normally be asleep, or at least in bed at this time, most people were.

‘ah, i got way too into this movie,’ he chuckles, ‘you always get back this late? you must be exhausted.’

you hang your bag on the hook, shimmying out of your jacket and placing it on top. spending far too much time focussing on making it sit perfectly, rather than having to look him in the eye after everything you’d heard last night.

‘i am.. especially after last night,’ rolling your eyes at the wall.

‘yeah.. shit, sorry ‘bout that,’ he adds sheepishly and you can hear the couch shift as he stands up.

you shrug, spinning around at last, having spent an awkward amount of time fiddling with your jacket, ‘your friend not staying tonight?’ wiggling your brows at him.

‘nah.. it’s not like that.. y’know.. she is just a friend,’ flashing you an awkward smile from across the room.

‘hmm you seem pretty friendly for just friends,’ walking into the small kitchen and opening the fridge. steve’s shelf fully stocked with a shit ton of organic food while your shelf laid empty.

he follows, lingering a few steps behind, ‘she is! what? you don’t have friends like that?’

‘friends that i have extremely loud sex with? no, no i don’t,’ you didn’t really have friends full stop. not since moving to the city at least.

closing the depressing fridge and sighing, adding grocery shopping to your already miles long to-do list.

‘whaat? c’mon that’s like the best part of your twenties.. wait, you have.. haven’t you?’ he asks cautiously, leaning against the doorway.

you scoff, now slightly offended at what he was implying, ‘are you asking if i’m a virgin?’

‘no! well- kinda,’ he holds his hands up in innocence, ‘i just.. you don’t y’know, go out a lot.. i’m just digging myself a hole here,’ shaking his head as the words keep tumbling out.

‘no, i am not a virgin.. if you must know, i just don’t have any time to waste on finding moderately attractive guys to have disappointing sex with.. so i don’t,’ trying to formulate how you can escape from this awkward conversation so you can crawl into bed and die.

he ponders for a second, pushing himself off of the frame and blocking your exit plan, ‘don’t shoot me down straight away, okay?’

you roll your eyes, the clock on the wall indicating that you’d have to be awake in seven hours time and with whatever nonsense was about to come out of his mouth, who knew when you’d actually get to bed?

‘what?’

he nods to himself, a smile creeping onto his face, ‘i think you should meet my friend, he’s the perfect person to bring a bit of fun to your life..’ he can see the stern look on your face, ‘no, seriously.. i think you should meet him.’

you try to hide the annoyance on your face, ‘no,’ his face falls at your immediate dismissal, ‘i mean, i don’t have the time.. in fact, i need to go to bed now..’ taking a few steps towards him, hoping the low light would hide your flushed cheeks.

humiliating that he not only saw you as some pathetic virgin but that he needed to actively help you make some friends.

‘please,’ standing still in the doorway, ‘meet him, i’m sure he’d be very happy to meet you.. i know,’ face lighting up, you could almost see the lightbulb going off in his head, ‘i’ll have some friends over and it can be like.. completely natural and casual, yeah?’

no i don’t want to fucking meet your strange friend. i want you to stop pitying me like i’m some lonely child that desperately needs friends. how about that?

you don’t say it, obviously. instead shaking your head and attempting to slip past the small gap between his body and the door. his arm extends to fill the space, completely blocking you in.

you huff, frustrated with his stupid games, ‘i have work,’ the only rebuttal you knew he couldn’t argue against.

‘when?’

‘..all the time,’ you look up at him, his chestnut eyes already boring into yours, it knocks you sick just how beautiful they were.

‘that’s a lie,’ raising his eyebrows.

‘it’s not,’ it was. but hell, you’d pick up an extra shift if it meant you wouldn’t be forced to socialise with his friends and especially not whoever the hell this mystery man was.

‘c’mon.. you deserve to have fun, you work so much.. call in sick.’

see, steve had the privilege of not having to work for survival. he’d been handed a cushy job at his dad’s law firm the second he’d turned 21. never had to worry about bills or rent or getting fired. one day he’d be the one running the company and he could sit back and watch the money roll in while he did nothing.

lucky him.

‘steve, i really can’t.. maybe another week,’ it was like talking to a child, empty promises to get him to relent.

he frowns, arms crossed over his chest which gave you just enough room to get past him and speed walk to your room.

‘you’re boring,’ he calls after you, sighing when your door shuts.

breathing a sigh of relief knowing that you could now avoid that awful conversation for at least another week.

you hadn’t thought anything about the quiet music from the hallway, assuming maybe ms. georgia was over again and he’d finally learnt just how much other people could hear.

so when you open the door and god knows how many people are milling around in your living room you want to strangle steve fucking harrington and his conniving little face.

he grins when he notices you walk in, coming over to the door with a red cup full of something. you mouth a bunch of obscenities, hoping only he could see.

‘you left your schedule on the counter.. you’re a liar,’ smirking as his plan had worked perfectly.

there aren’t even any words to describe how pissed off you are, ‘you’re an asshole,’ you hush, slinging your jacket on the hook rather aggressively.

his friends all eye you, trying not to listen to your angry whispers. you wonder which one he was trying to set you up with. already dying thinking of the awkward conversation that was inevitably coming.

‘c’mon live a little..’ he nudges your arm, spinning you to face the group and you want to die. hoping that somehow the earth would open up and swallow you whole.

‘i’ll introduce you,’ he smiles, leading you over to the group with his hand firmly on your arm, making sure you couldn’t slip away.

if you hadn’t wanted to die before. you definitely did now.

his friends all seemed lovely, muttering about how much they’d heard about you and other fake pleasantries. you’d apologised for looking like the way you did.. gritting your teeth that this was all very much a surprise for you.

georgia’s here again, perched on the end of the couch, sipping on her drink. separated from the rest of the group. she’s nice enough, smiling as he introduces you properly. a little bashful as she’s well aware you were in the apartment the other night.

he gets round everyone and you can’t figure out who he was so desperate for you to meet. either they were in relationships with each other or just completely not the fun loving guy he’d been so incessant about.

you don’t bring it up, hoping maybe he couldn’t make it and you’d only have to sit there and politely chatter with these strangers and not have to try and graciously let some guy down. that you could deal with.

‘i’m gonna get changed,’ you nod, pulling away from steve who flashes you a look, a warning not to just disappear into your room which you’d highly considered.

you do prolong getting changed, sitting on the end of your bed with your blouse unbuttoned, contemplating whether barricading yourself in your room was viable. dealing with an annoyed steve would be ten times better than the night you would have.

a knock on your door throws you out do your self-pitying session, jumping up and rushing over to answer the door before steve could barge his way in.

‘i’m literally nearl-,’ you stop, interrupted by a face that did not belong to steve, a pair of kind brown eyes staring back at you, obviously not really sure what he was expecting on the other side of the door.

‘uhh.. the bathroom’s down the hall,’ pointing to closed wooden door, hoping he’d just been mistaken.

‘oh,’ the stranger smiles, ‘no.. steve told me to tell you to hurry up,’ he shrugs, ‘i don’t know, i just got here,’ relinquishing himself from any blame.

'right, tell him i'm nearly ready and that he's an asshole,' going to close the door on him before his boot catches it, keeping it open.

'i'm eddie.. by the way,' sticking his hand out through the gap for you to shake. which you do gingerly, catching sight of your white work shirt which you'd rather embarrassingly remembered was half unbuttoned.

your hand flies up to cover your exposed chest, 'oh my god, i'm so sorry,' cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. he'd done a great job of not staring down your shirt at least.

he laughs airily, watching as you shrivel up in pure embarrassment, 'i'll let you get dressed,' he announces, sauntering off to the living room with a shit eating grin on his face.

you manage to cool your face down and get changed. by process of elimination you could guess that eddie was most likely the guy steve was so enthusiastic about you meeting and now you'd have to sit there for hours trying to be polite after he had definitely just seen your tits.

coming into the living room, it's clear that steve's conspired with everyone and made them shuffle, leaving the only free seat the one next to eddie on the smaller couch. he was smart, you'd give him that. even if you did want to wring his neck as he smirked at your from the other couch.

you don't even want to look poor eddie in the eyes, still utterly ashamed about him seeing you half naked. fortunately, he breaks the awkward tension first, offering you a drink and a small, reassuring smile.

steve's friends are all lovely, making you feel slightly guilty for how cold you'd been when you'd walked in. they'd all been well aware that this was one of steve's tricks. even eddie which made everything so much worse. knowing that they'd all been brought here in an attempt to force you two together.

they get into a heated conversation about something you don't understand, leaving you to find solace in the lukewarm drink in your hand. steve and georgia take themselves off into the kitchen and there's a collective groan and a shared look.

'what?' you ask, watching as their faces speak a thousand confusing emotions.

one girl rolls her eyes, leaning in to speak in hushed tones, 'how long has she been back around?'

'uh.. i don't know, she was over thursday?' still confused at their sudden change in attitude.

'hmm,' she nods, giving the brown haired girl a look you can't pick up on, 'annoying as fuck, right?' she snickers, glancing over to make sure they were still in the kitchen.

well, yeah. but you weren't going to outright state that you were annoyed. it wasn't really any of your business. so you just shrug in response, a smile creeping onto your lips when she laughs loudly.

'you won't have to deal with it for long,' the girl, robin her name is, laughs, leaning back in the armchair to watch the pair in the kitchen, seemingly innocently bickering about something.

'oh?'

she turns to give you her full attention, 'they do this every few months or so.. she'll tell him to fuck off, so he does.. and then a few months later she'll crawl out of the woodwork and want to be friends again,' she rolls her eyes, 'we don't like her.'

that'd explain why you'd never seen her before. it was finally his turn in the rotation.

'right.. seems pretty complicated, why would you be friends with someone like that?'

'oh babe, no one knows.. just gotta let him do his thing, it never lasts long,' she laughs, nudging your knee with hers as they walk back over, jumping back into her seat with her eyebrows raised.

everyone had sorta gone off into their own little pockets of conversation, leaving you and eddie to chat between yourselves. it was slightly uncomfortable at first, through no fault of his. the thought of you flashing him still playing heavily in your mind.

'it's awkward, isn't it?' he leans in, looking at his circle of friends, none of them paying you any mind.

his straightforward nature strangely putting you at ease, 'a little.. at least you knew what you were walking into, i had no idea you'd all be here,' finding some hilarity in the half-assed blind date steve had tried to set up.

'he's a prick,' eddie laughs, swigging on his beer, 'it's funnier if you play into it, make him think he's winning,' tapping his finger on the side of his head.

'well, how d'we do that?' asking curiously, wanting nothing more than to antagonise steve.

'mm, follow me,' clearing his throat as he stands from the sofa, holding his hand out for you to take, narrowing your eyes at him but obliging. his fingers are calloused as they encase your hand, but it's almost comforting. he felt real.

he doesn't say a word as he walks through the living room, their eyes all following as he guides you over to your bedroom without so much of a look back. the silence is deafening as their conversations quieten, all trying to eavesdrop, figuring out what the hell just happened.

once the door is shut, he holds his finger over his mouth, listening out for the sound of voices again knowing they'd be doing the exact same thing on the other side. you can pick up on steve's voice faintly starting up again over the music and he nods, that same shit-eating smile on his face from earlier.

'now what?' staring at him in amusement, now unknowingly trapped in your bedroom for the foreseeable.

he shrugs, taking a seat on your bed, gazing around the room, 'now we wait.. you got anything to drink in here?'

you ponder for a moment, 'no.. d'you smoke weed?'

his eyes light up at the very question, grinning from ear to ear.

you're mid wheeze when someone bangs on the door, laid back on your bed, eddie sprawled out on the other side laughing maniacally at the shitty impression of steve you'd attempted.

'come in,' you call out, trying to catch your breath and stop laughing, though his face was only making you giggle more.

the door swings open to reveal robin stood on the other side, peeking through her fingers, 'oh,' she looks baffled, not expecting such innocence, 'what're you doing?'

eddie runs a hand over his face, trying his hardest not to start laughing again, 'smoking.. you want in?' offering what must have been the third spliff to her.

'i'm good.. we're going out, jon's got some underground club he desperately wants to go to.. you coming?' her face still very much not understanding what you two were giggling about.

you shake your head, 'nah.. i'm okay,' smiling up at her, hair fanned out around your head.

eddie looks over to you before answering, 'i'm gonna stay here,' slotting the joint into your lazily spread fingers.

your heart beats faster when his fingers brush against yours, though, that was a hard feat with how much the weed was slowing down every other part of you.

'alright well, goodnight losers,' robin calls out, closing the door behind her.

you only need to look at eddie and you're roaring with laughter again, clutching your stomach, holding the spliff in the air so to not get ash all over your bed.

you hadn't imagined your night ending like this but you were pretty glad it did.

a muffled argument pulls you from your sleep. pulling your face from the comfort of eddie's back, you must've rolled over in your sleep and decided to cling onto him. it doesn't feel as weird as it probably should have, in fact, it was pretty comforting. he groans and you can feel the vibration in your cheek.

'what the fuck?' you mumble sleepily, hazy with sleep and honestly probably still slightly high.

you don't even remember falling asleep, but you must've pulled your jeans off at some point in the night, your bare legs strikingly obvious as you sit up slightly, trying to listen to the bickering. you can't really make out any words, just a lot of angry, hushed tones.

'this happens everytime,' turning over to face you, curling one arm beneath the pillow.

'what does?'

'those two arguing, every single time,' rolling his eyes, 'watch this,' he bangs his fist against the wall a couple times, making the row to silence. he grins into the pillow, closing his eyes again as he'd won the who can be louder war.

you put your head back down onto the pillow, smiling at his smug, sleepy face, 'thank you,' you say quietly, watching as one eye peaks open, just staring at each other in your darkened room, small rays of sun beginning to peek through.

it's a few small minutes, gazing, sleepily at one another before the feud begins again.

'fuck me,' eddie moans, bursting into laughter as he extends his arm, pulling the blanket over your heads, stifling at least some of the irritating sounds from the other room, giggling as you both drop off back to sleep.

when you wake up again, at a more appropriate time of the morning, your bed is empty. you’re not sure why you’re disappointed but your heart drops slightly when you turn to the empty mattress.

until something crinkles beneath your body, fishing out the small piece of paper from under your arm.

had to go 2 work, didn’t want 2 wake u

text me (476) 781-7759

scrawled on the page messily, brushing the tiniest hint of a smile on your face as you roll out of bed, swearing to yourself to at least leave it a few hours before texting.

eddie’s not the best texter but he makes damn sure to respond to you. even though it is just mostly silly, irrelevant texts about what you were doing. being sent occasional pictures of cars or whatever it was he was working on. the conversation lasts all weekend, concealing your phone from steve’s curious eyes.

once monday hits, your texts become less frequent and you feel slightly guilty. especially when he’d double text, thinking maybe you hadn’t received the first one.

it was sweet really, which only made you feel worse for not getting back to him in a normal time frame. a rare moment of peace meant you could finally catch up on his tirade of texts and sling back a lazy reply before getting back to editing some of the worst articles you’d ever seen.

what r u doing on saturday?

another text pinged through, following the last one from about an hour ago.

I’ve got work :(

where do u work?

firing back almost immediately after your response. you scan the office before replying, making sure no one was watching.

In Simmon’s😖

ohh okay

you lock your phone, promising to respond properly on your break. slightly stumped by his short reply.

you’re on autopilot, dashing up and down the length of the bar, faking a smile at the slimy old men ogling you from the other side.

so much so that you don’t notice who exactly is stood at the register.

‘what can i get for you?’ tapping at the screen to send another order through before giving the customer your full attention.

he doesn’t respond, pulling your eyes from the screen, the familiar chestnut eyes staring back, slightly widened as your customer service voice was in full swing.

‘oh my god, what are you doing here?’ immediately switching off, repressing the growing grin.

‘i thought i’d see if you wanted a ride home? i was just passing,’ eddie chuckles, eyeing your beer stained uniform.

‘oh.. yeah,’ smiling fully now, ‘i don’t finish ‘til twelve though,’ you’re sure he had better things to do on a saturday night than sit in the rundown bar waiting for you to finish.

‘it’s okay, i’ll wait,’ he nods, sliding into the empty bar stool, ‘i’ll take a drink though.. if you’re offering,’ smirking over the bar.

you feel giddy, having to excuse yourself for a moment while you recollect in the kitchen. waiting for the butterflies to subdue but they never do.

the engine idles as you sit outside of your apartment building, neither of you wanting to be the one to say goodbye first.

‘d’ya wanna come in?’ you proposition, steve’s car wasn’t in his usual spot so you knew you’d at least be away from his prying questions.

‘do you want me to?’ you hadn’t sounded entirely confident in your question, it had been a while since you’d done this, okay? it’s valid.

‘i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t,’ smiling as you try to hold your nerve.

‘okay,’ he laughs, turning the engine off.

he follows you into the building, holding the door and letting you enter first. desperately struggling to not swoon at the very basic level of chivalry. walking into your dark apartment with eddie at your heal, eternally grateful that steve wasn’t home.

slinging your bag onto the floor, keys rattling as they land in the shared fruit bowl turned key-bowl. sidling into the kitchen knowing that you still had not gone grocery shopping.

‘have you eaten? i’m starving.. i can cook.. uh,’ leering into the barren cupboard, ‘..noodles,’ wincing at severe lack of food.

‘sounds good to me,’ he slides onto one of the tall chairs, watching as you grab a saucepan. he couldn’t believe that you were offering to cook for him even after your long day.

the door slams shut, jolting your attention from the stove as steve walks in, grumpy and feeling sorry for himself, his navy bag slung over his shoulder. he comes trundling into the kitchen, questioning if he was actually seeing this.

‘whoa-ho-ho, what’s going on here?’ nudging eddie with his elbow, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

‘i’m cooking, genius,’ stirring the pot of simmering noodles, choosing to ignore his implication.

‘wha- you don’t cook for me,’ jutting his bottom lip out, leaning across the kitchen counter.

‘you don’t pick me up from work.. so no.’

‘oh, so it’s like that now, is it?’ wiggling his eyebrows, elbowing eddie once again.

you roll your eyes, pretending that you didn’t hear the teasing tone in his voice.

‘where are you going?’ eddie asks, eyeing steve’s large duffel bag that now sat on the kitchen floor.

he lets out the biggest groan, slapping his hand on eddie’s shoulder, ‘i was going to george’s but.. well, that’s done,’ expelling all of the breath in his lungs in the most over dramatic sigh.

‘again?’

steve gives him a look, ‘yes again.. i’ll tell you all about it in the morning,’ he sounds deflated, like an old balloon, ‘i’m going to bed, enjoy your shitty noodles, don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.’

you glare at him as he backs out of the room, threatening to throw the wooden spoon at his head.

eventually flopping down onto the sofa with eddie, the pathetic bowl of noodles in your lap, ‘sorry.. it’s kinda shit,’ prodding your fork into the pitiful meal.

‘noodles are actually my favourite food,’ smiling as he digs in.

you appreciate it, even if it was total bullshit.

‘how was your day?’ he asks, eyebrows quirking up as you exhale rather dramatically, ‘not great then?’

you chuckle quietly, ‘not really..’ shrugging, ‘both of my bosses are assholes, i hate my job- jobs, and i have this.. fucking column to write if i want a permanent one.. there’s fifteen of us all going for the same position,’ covering your mouth as you’re well aware it’s probably highly unattractive to babble on with noodles in your mouth.

‘well shit.. i mean, if you wanna rant, i can listen and offer shitty advice,’ a short, breathy laugh leaving his mouth.

so you do. you tell him everything, rambling on about your dickhead boss and how you’d expect a much better wage for slaving over a bunch of established journalists, practically doing their jobs for them. going on about being forced to pick up another job or go back home. he listens intently, placing your empty bowls on the coffee table gently.

‘and then my mom..’ you stop yourself, having already dominated the entire conversation, ‘sorry, ive just made you listen to all that..’

‘no, carry on,’ nodding encouragingly, it felt so good to just have someone so interested in what you were saying, even if it was just ranting.

you look at him, genuine interest in his eyes, sighing before you continue, ‘it’s just, since i’ve moved out.. she seems to think i’m earning a shit load more than i am.. she needs the help so i just send it, but it’s just.. frustrating,’ frowning slightly, fiddling with the hole in your tights, ‘sorry.. too much,’ grimacing as you’d just laid bare your problems to an unsuspecting eddie.

he sits for a moment before beginning, ‘do you ever do anything for yourself?’

‘huh?’

‘what do you do that’s just for you?’ watching intently as you shuffle awkwardly.

you shrug, not really able to think of anything, ‘..i don’t know,’ it wasn’t a lie, but it felt awful to say.

‘i think, and this is just my opinion so ignore it if you want.. but i think you should stop living for other people, and start doing things for you,’ he shrugs, ‘like i said, that’s just my opinion.’

you ponder for a second, your idea of a fun time is getting to go to bed before midnight. sometimes you’d indulge in a little marijuana if it was a particularly bad day or had any spare money at the end of the week. that was about it. you didn’t really have time for all of the things he and steve would do for fun, pretentious clubs and the like. hell, you didn’t have the money for that shit.

‘i don’t think i know how.. i’ve helped my mom since my dad left.. and it’s not like i can just stop working or get a new job, like.. i have to or i’ll be homeless,’ chuckling slightly though the words just sounded depressing coming from your mouth.

‘it doesn’t mean you have to stop doing those things.. just.. do something for you too,’ lips curling into a small smile, it was genuine advice and you appreciated it but you weren’t sure your idea of enjoying yourself was the same as his.

‘okay.. how? tell me how to have fun,’ turning to face him properly, legs pulled under yourself, watching as he thinks for a second.

‘i could show you,’ his smile slowly turning into a soft smirk and you’re sure you know where this is going next.

‘okay,’ it comes out quieter than expected, swallowing as his eyes never leave yours, his hand slides across the back of the couch cushions.

his face now mere inches from yours, lips parted slightly as his eyes flit to your lips. you instinctively lean in, eyes fluttering closed, his breath tickling your cheek.

your nose brushes against his before your lips meet, hesitant to make initial contact. this would mean that you couldn’t just string him along on text, it would become something.

his lips press against yours before you can make the first move, pulling you closer by the neck, hand resting on the bare skin.

you sigh softly when they meet properly, it’d been a good while since you’d done this, now suddenly afraid that you were doing it all wrong. though there wasn’t chance to do much thinking, his lips leading the kiss, moving against yours in a fashion that felt completely natural.

fingertips pressing into your neck, trying desperately to pull you even closer than you were. the feel of his tongue swiping across your bottom lip makes your mouth fall open, allowing full access. you can feel the hint of his smile against your face, pushing his chest to yours.

steve’s door swings open and he stares down the hall at the sight of your faces smushed together, peaking just above the sofa.

‘oh,’ his voice echoes, pulling you apart, blood rushing into your cheeks, not sure how much of that he’d seen, ‘well damn, i didn’t mean to interrupt,’ laughing.

you don’t avert your eyes from your lap, embarrassed to look at your gormless roommate. you can feel the heat soaring in your cheeks, eddie’s fingers ever-so-slowly leaving your neck while he clears his throat.

‘did you want something?’

‘nope.. i’m just gonna-,’ disappearing back into his room with a quickness.

eddie turns to look at you, finding the humour in it all, ‘hey,’ placing his fingers underneath your chin, tilting it upwards to look at him, ‘it’s just steve,’ trying to ease some of your unnecessary embarrassment.

you let out a tiny giggle, nodding along with him, because at the end of the day it was just steve.

‘d’ya wanna stay?’ you ask timidly, blinking at the bambi-eyed man sat in front of you.

he nods quickly, stroking along your jawline with his thumb, soothing and gentle. his sweet, bambi eyes causing those darn butterflies to flap around your stomach again.

spending the night sharing soft kisses in bed, allowing yourself the undeniable feeling of falling for someone that you’d denied yourself for years. giddy as his hands explore the more hidden parts of your body. it wasn’t inherently sexual, but loving and intimate.

falling asleep on his chest, with a grin painted on your face.

you sit cross legged on the couch the next morning, eating the eggs eddie had foraged stolen from steve and very kindly cooked for you.

steve makes an appearance mid-way through the morning, looking disheveled and highly displeased when he realised those were his eggs you had enjoyed.

‘and you didn’t even leave me any? i can’t believe you, both of you.. assholes,’ he whines, coming into the living room with a pout on his face, flopping down into the spare love seat.

eddie offers the nearly demolished plate out to him, ‘here.. i’m finished anyway,’ shaking his head at the grumpy boy.

steve takes the measly piece of toast, ‘oh thanks..’ tucking in to the scraps, pleased with himself.

‘so, you and georgia? over for good or..?’ eddie asks, wanting the full story. getting in there first before steve could mention you two.

‘for good,’ he mumbles, mouth full of toast.

‘no shit,’ eddie exclaims, leaning forward to place the plate on the small coffee table, ‘you ended it or she did?’

mindlessly, you stretch your leg out over eddie’s, tuning into steve’s stupid story. you don’t even realise you’ve done it until he starts mindlessly playing with your leg, running his fingers up and down the smooth skin.

completely tuning out of whatever steve had begun to say, focussing on the way eddie’s eyes followed steve, frowning as he told this elaborate tale of the breakup-not breakup.

you’d found yourself doing that often, gazing at eddie, enamoured with the way his entire face seemed to tell you exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

it didn’t help the way his perfect, plump lips moved and you practically could feel them pressed against your-

‘are you even listening? or are you too busy making kissy faces at eddie?’ steve stops in the middle of his pacing to question you, hands stuck mid-air.

your head snaps to face him, shocked by his direct call out, ‘i- i was listening.. carry on,’ nodding to get him to continue, your cheeks once again flushing with colour.

he narrows his eyes at you before getting on with his spiel, ‘okay so, i told her.. no, no this is it and then she cried.. but i didn’t give in, nope- i left,’ he nods in satisfaction, a smug smile on his face.

from what you’d heard about their situation, he had never been the one to end things. it had always been her. so this must have been a monumental thing, and he was well worth his dues for finally growing some balls and getting rid.

eddie slaps his hand against your calf in celebration, smiling at steve, ‘good for you, y’know she’s bad news.. always has been,’ shrugging, still slightly in disbelief that he had been the one to end it.

‘robin’s gonna be so annoying.. i don’t even wanna hear it,’ shaking his head, ‘but thanks, we’re going out tomorrow, to celebrate,’ pointing at the two of you sat on the couch.

you’re actually ready early for once, sat glancing at the time on your phone. okay, twenty minutes til you needed to leave, a quick lie down on your bed couldn’t hurt, right? hell, you could leave in twenty five and not be late, why not?

you’d said you’d meet the guys at the bar at ten, assuming you’d be finished at nine. but then david had let you go early so you’d gone home to make yourself slightly more presentable. a little power nap couldn’t go wrong. right?

well actually, a lot could go wrong.

you’re only aware that you had dropped off to sleep when a banging at the door jolts you awake. whoever was on the other side sounded frantic, as if they were using their fist to pummel the wood.

you step quickly through the apartment, still disoriented from sleep, only just getting your bearings when you fumble for the lock, opening the door to reveal a worried looking eddie.

‘eddie? wha- what’s going on?’ eyes stinging from the bright hallway lights.

‘jesus chr- you didn’t show up.. i thought something happened,’ sounding relieved, you were confused about what all the fuss was about.

‘i fell asleep,’ realisation setting in, ‘i fell asleep, oh my god.. i’m so sorry,’ your ten minute rest had turned into a two hour long nap, completely missing your meeting time.

your heart pangs with guilt, you’d fucking slept through your first real date and without so much as a text to let him know. he must’ve thought you’d ditched him. or died. he’d definitely thought you’d died.

‘hey.. it’s okay, i just thought something had happened to you,’ giving you a reassuring smile, relieved as you stood in front of him rather than a ditch somewhere, never to be seen again.

‘i am so so sorry.. i didn’t mean to fall asleep i was just resting my eyes i literally lead down for one minute i’m so sorry,’ babbling on, one long run on sentence.

‘it’s okay,’ taking your thrashing hand into his, ‘i promise it’s okay.. okay?’

you exhale, chilling out slightly as his hand clasps yours, ‘i’m basically ready.. we could still go out?’ looking down at your slept-in outfit.

‘do you still wanna go out? you obviously need the sleep.. i don’t mind if you don’t want to,’ fingers rubbing your hands, soothing any possible lingering worries.

‘i- uh, we could just stay in? steve’s not here so..’ shrugging, you weren’t entirely confident that your suggestion had come across the way you’d planned but he nods anyway, smiling as he walks into the apartment.

so you eat pizza in bed, cross-legged with your shitty laptop playing the cheesiest rom-com you could find, much to eddie’s protests, ‘my laptop, my rules.’

but it doesn’t take long and he’s enthralled, eyes glued to the screen while yours stare at him, taking in every detail. the way his eyes crease when he smiles or the soft shadow of stubble across his chin.

‘stop staring at me and watch this stupid movie,’ smirking, not once looking over at you.

your eyes snap to the laptop, cheeks flushing as you’d been caught and rightfully called out for it. finding it hard to even focus on whatever was going on when he was sat mere inches away with that smug look on his face.

‘i was actually looking at.. your hair,’ nodding to yourself, satisfied with your excuse.

‘my hair? what about my hair?’ turning his attention to you who was now pretending to be thoroughly interested in the movie.

‘watch the stupid movie,’ you smile, throwing his own line back at him.

‘no,’ he snaps back quickly, ‘tell me what’s wrong with my hair?’ nudging your arm with his elbow.

you slowly slide your gaze to him, ‘you really wanna know?’

‘i really wanna know.’

‘it’s..’ mouth opening and closing like a fish, finding something to say, ‘curly,’ pleased with your bullshit answer.

his face contorts into pure confusion, before bursting into laughter, ‘shut up,’ lunging over to you, pushing you backwards onto the mattress, moving on top of your body.

your heart pounding a million miles an hour as his face lingers above yours, ‘you can stare at me for as long as you like,’ gaze lowering to your lips, his muscular arms either side of your face, enveloping you in.

you cut the tension first, reaching up to connect your lips, legs instinctively opening to welcome him between them. hands snaking up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders.

you shudder when his rough hand crawls underneath your shirt, sliding up your waist until it meets your bra. he pulls back just enough to keep your lips lazily connected, looking for permission to touch you properly.

‘i don’t- i haven’t.. in a while,’ nervously gripping onto his shirt, afraid he might laugh at you for being such a shy prude.

‘okay,’ nodding, pressing tender kisses to your lips and jaw, ‘can i?’ hand still lingering just underneath your bra, itching to move up just an inch.

‘mhmm,’ rolling your head back when his lips find their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, finally gripping onto your boob from over the bra.

nibbling and sucking at the nape of your neck, pulling the lacy bra down exposing your nipple to the cold air of your room. you exhale sharply, not quite expecting the sensation of his thumb messing around with your already hard nipple.

‘i want to..’ dotting kisses down to your chest, ‘..make you feel good,’ face lowering from yours, leaving a trail of kisses on your stomach, still palming your breast on the way down.

you can’t respond, words caught in your throat as your melt into his touch, putty in his hands as his lips stop just below your bellow button, looking up for some confirmation to carry on.

‘do you want me to?’ sliding his palm down to the waistband of your jeans.

you nod hurriedly, ‘yeah.. yes,’ peering down to watch him smirk, hooking his fingers into the elastic and pulling the denim down at an excruciatingly slow pace.

your eyes fly to the ceiling, not wanting to watch as he pulls your jeans off fully, missing the excitable look on his face when he sees the lacy panties you’d worn. already sodden from his pitiful touch, embarrassed by your excitement, you squeeze your eyes shut.

the panties are next to removed and you can hear him shuffle around, placing your thighs on his shoulders as arms wrap around them, holding you in place.

‘you just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?’ he mumbles, planting gentle, teasing kisses to the inside of your thigh.

‘mmm,’ you hum in response, aching for him to just touch you already.

his tongue travels between your folds, causing your thighs to clench together, essentially trapping him between your legs. this is all the encouragement he needs, repeating the action, fingers making indentations in your skin.

‘you’re.. huh,’ circling his tongue around your clit, finding the perfect spot to have you clinging onto the bedsheets, ‘soaked,’ middle and index finger leaving your thigh to tease your hole, edging their way in.

your whimpers are music to his ears, relishing in the high pitched wail he pulls from you the second his fingers enter. tongue still lapping at your clit, moving in the most unholy manner.

‘holy shit,’ you whine when his fingers curl up inside, pumping in and out painfully slow. balling the cotton sheet in your fist, desperately trying to ground yourself.

he’s relentless, swirling his tongue up and down your folds, paying particular attention to your clit and the way your thighs tightened around his head when he found the sweet, spongy spot inside.

your eyes rolling back into your head at your impending orgasm, pleasure coursing through your stomach, unable to find the words to warn him of what was coming.

he knows when your thighs begin to shake and you clench around his fingers, grinning into your pussy as the most unholy sound escapes your lips, echoing through the tall room.

eddie emerges from between your legs, satisfied with himself, finger tips still digging into the pliant skin of your thighs. watching dutifully as writhe, the evidence of you all over his lips as the glisten in the dim light.

‘you good?’ he asks, carefully pushing himself up to perch above you, leaning on one elbow.

you nod, still trying to get your bearings from the earth-shattering orgasm he’d just given you. blinking up at him when you eventually come back to this earth, his eyes full of lust and wanting.

‘i am happy to do that anytime.. by the way,’ a deep chuckle erupting from his throat, hand coming up to brush the sticky hair from your forehead.

you could feel him in between your bodies, sort of taken aback that he hadn’t even done that for his pleasure, but yours.

‘please,’ you whisper bashfully, suddenly coy before the man who was just between your legs.

‘gladly,’ smiling as your lips connect, the taste of you all over his mouth. it was probably the filthiest thing you’d ever done, but you enjoyed it, hell, you were proud of it.

you’re sweating bullets on the subway, clinging onto the bag on your shoulder. it’d be the first time you were staying at eddie’s house, solidifying that this wasn’t just a casual, situational thing.

it wasn’t like you’d never shared a bed or even been intimate for christ’s sake. staying at his place just sorta felt like the next step to being something else.

you’re almost trembling when you lift your hand to knock, checking that you’d got the right place for the fourth time.

when the door opens you’re relieved to see eddie on the other side, already grinning and rushing you inside, taking your bag from your clutch.

it was nothing like you’d imagined, slightly cluttered but with much more character than yours and steve’s apartment had. he’d made it his home, even with a roommate.

‘d’you find it alright? feels weird seeing you here,’ chuckling awkwardly, watching as you glance around the room, noticing the guitar leant up against the wall.

‘yeah.. sorry, you play?’ surprised that you didn’t know this about him, shocked that he had never bought it up.

‘ahh.. yeah, used to be in a band,’ his hand rubbing on the back of his neck, all bashful. you loved it, normally so confident and assured in himself that seeing him practically shrink in front of you was so alien.

‘and you didn’t tell me? i thought we were friends,’ it sounds weird to say but technically it was true, not entirely sure where you stood in terms of your relationship status.

‘we’re friends? did i just get friendzoned?’ his lips curling into a smile, the confident eddie rushing back.

‘well,’ you struggle with words, ‘as far as i’m aware.. we’re just friends,’ hoping that it didn’t seem like you were deliberately dropping hints. even though you totally were.

he saunters closer, ‘what’re you saying?’ smile growing, leering down at you with those sickening eyes.

you shake your head, unable to contain your own grin, ‘nothin’,’ craning your head up to look at him properly, the creases by his eyes only increasing.

‘hmm.. kinda seems like you were,’ teasing in the way he spoke, words dripping with sarcasm.

‘okay, so we’re not friends.. what are we then?’

‘well, you could be my girlfriend? does that sound better?’ his hand hovering over your waist, not wanting to preemptively celebrate in case he had got this completely wrong.

‘sounds perfect to me,’ fully grinning as one hand clamps down onto your waist, the other tenderly caressing your jaw, pulling your jaw up towards him.

you can feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead as he exhales, ‘thank god you said yes,’ the cold of the ring on his thumb tracing along your jawbone.

you chuckle quietly, ‘don’t be silly,’ pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss, arms coming up to snake around his neck, keeping him as close as can be.

your boyfriend.

eddie had gone to take a shower, leaving you in his bed, in his shirt, grinning away like a mad woman. it’s nauseating how happy you were, stomach bubbling with excitement and slight nervousness.

rolling over to grab your phone from the nightstand, your stomach dropping the second the screen lights up.

five missed calls from mom

two new voicemails

you sit up against the headboard, dialling the voicemail box, already imagining a hundred and one horrible things that may have happened.

hey baby, i uh, i tried to call you but i couldn’t get through.. ross is in the hospital, we’re not sure what it is yet.. please call me when you get this, okay love you

her worried tone sets alarm bells ringing immediately. your little brother had been sick the past couple of weeks, just the flu she’d said.

you don’t even listen to the next voicemail, hopping out of bed while you ring her number directly. the dial tone pissing you off as it rings and rings.

‘hello?’ you rush down the phone the second it connects, trying to shimmy into your jeans one handed.

‘oh my god,’ she breathes down the phone, ‘baby are you okay? i couldn’t get ahold of you.. we’re still waiting on results,’ your mom sighs shakily, you can hear the faint beeping of the hospital in the background.

‘i’m coming home, i-i’ll get the train or something.. wha-what’s wrong with him?’

eddie appears from the bathroom, towel draped around his waist, obviously alarmed by your distressed tone and holding his hand out for you to balance on as you wriggle into your jeans.

‘we’re not sure.. one of the nurses thinks it could be pneumonia, they’re doing some blood work.. how long will it take to get back?’

you weren’t even sure if there were trains at this time of night. maybe you could a bus? or a couple of buses? it was already the best part of an hour to drive, that’s without relying on public transport.

‘i don’t know.. there might be a train, uh- shit,’ rushing around eddie’s room searching for your shoes, ‘i’ll be there as soon as i can, okay? i’ll think of something,’ sliding your feet into your dirty old sneakers.

‘okay baby.. i love you, text me when you know, okay?’

‘okay.. okay, i love you too,’ you mutter into the phone, sliding it into your pocket and looking frantically around the room for your jacket.

‘what’s going on?’ eddie asks, still none the wiser and now dripping water onto the carpet.

‘my brother’s in the hospital.. i need to go home,’ voice shaking, becoming increasingly frustrated at your missing jacket.

‘i’ll drive you,’ he says without hesitation, springing into action.

‘it’s like an hour- i was, i can get the train,’ you rush, watching as he gets changed, a million times calmer than you were.

‘no, i’ll drive.. there’s no trains at this time,’ retrieving a new shirt from the drawer, patting his jeans for his keys.

it’s only then that you stop, everything hitting you all at once. completely overwhelmed by his selflessness and the calming nature he was exuding even in such an intense situation.

the tears spill over onto your cheeks and he’s immediately pulling you into his chest, arms encasing your shaking body as you sob into his clean shirt.

‘hey.. it’s okay, he’s okay.. you’re okay,’ large hand rubbing circles on your back, soothing you as you attempt to catch your breath.

you nod into his chest, collecting yourself just enough to pull away, anxious to get there and see your little brother.

‘i know,’ you babble, not believing the words coming out of your mouth, ‘are you sure? i’m sure there’s a bus..’

‘i’m sure,’ he nods, ‘you ready?’

‘mhm,’ you squeak, ‘my jacket..’ looking around aimlessly.

but he already knows where it is, obviously. grabbing the leather jacket and swinging it over your shoulders as he leads the way out of the door and to his van.

the journey is awful. your mind racing over every single possibility. guilt making your stomach churn, feeling as selfish as ever because you weren’t there when they needed you.

eddie’s hand creeps over to rest on your knee and it helps for a moment, knowing that he was there even in your self-loathing, pathetic state.

he most definitely broke a number of laws getting to the hospital but you couldn’t care less. screeching into the parking lot and into a space. you barely give him time to turn the engine off before jumping out and speeding into the hospital.

the lady at the desk is as helpful as possible, directing you to the intensive care unit with some vague directions.

you make it there eventually, eddie trailing behind as you ask another doctor where they were. he takes you to a room on the corner, opening the door to reveal your mom curled up on the chair and your frail looking brother asleep in the bed.

she looks up, relief washing over her face as you step into the room, bounding over to her and pulling her into a tight hug. squeezing your eyes shut so to not let the tears fall.

she smelt like home. like all the comforts you’d missed in the city. warmth and peace.

her hands clutch your shoulders, pulling you apart, ‘he’s okay.. he’s okay, it’s a bad bout of pneumonia but he’s okay,’ smiling ever-so-slightly, ‘we’re just waiting for him to wake up now.’

you can feel the air expel from your lungs, you weren’t even aware that you’d been holding your breath until it all came out.

‘oh my god,’ you sigh, pulling her back into your arms, ‘he’s not gonna die..’ really only saying it to confirm it yourself.

she chuckles tearfully, ‘no baby..’ her eyes move to eddie who was lingering by the door, pulling away once again, ‘sorry.. who’s this?’ completely bewildered by the long haired stranger stood before her.

‘oh uh, this is eddie, my.. boyfriend,’ watching as he offers his hand out for her to shake, ‘he drove me here,’ smiling at the sight of them even interacting.

‘hello.. eddie,’ shaking his hand before glancing back at your shirt, ‘..boyfriend,’ she utters to herself. you could decipher the exact look in her eye and will most definitely collar you later for not telling her about him.

he gives her a tiny, tight lipped smile, he’d never have imagined meeting your mom tonight but here we are.

you take her attention back before she can probe him, ‘have you eaten? why don’t you go and get some sleep and we can wait until he wakes up? i’ll call you as soon as he does.’

she pauses before nodding once, ‘yeah.. yeah,’ narrowing her eyes, ‘the minute he wakes up, okay?’ squeezing your arm, affirming that she was just so grateful for you being here.

she collects her things, reiterating that her phone will be on loudspeaker and you must call as soon as his eyes open. she’d be back at seven if you hadn’t called.

giving eddie another polite smile and a quick thank you before leaving. she’d looked exhausted and slightly dazed, probably thankful now that you were here to watch over ross.

‘sorry ‘bout my mom..’ you smile, ‘you don’t have to stay.. if you need to get back, i’ll be okay,’ he’d already done so much for you, asking him to stay would be too much. even if you were dreading being here all on your own.

‘i’m staying, as long as that’s alright with you?’ cocking his eyebrow, taking a seat on the uncomfortable, brown hospital chairs, settling in for what was going to be a long night.

you nod quickly, ‘of course,’ choosing to perch on the side of your brothers bed, trying your hardest to swallow the growing lump in your throat.

he looked sick. pale and sweaty with tubes coming out of every part of him. it didn’t matter though. he was going to be okay.

your head rests on eddie’s lap, his fingers playing with your hair as you doze in and out of sleep. too anxious to properly rest. the nose of the machines doing you no favours.

‘shit,’ you exclaim, your other responsibilities had just dawned on you. it was deadline day and your final column was stuck, wedged in a bag on eddie’s bedroom floor.

‘hmm?’ he hums, shuffling as you’d startled him from his daze.

‘my column..’ you shake your head, it didn’t matter, not really. not when your brother was still stuck in here, god knows how many tubes coming out of his body.

‘what about it?’

you exhale softly, temple brushing against the rough denim of his jeans, ‘it’s due today.. it doesn’t matter,’ shrugging, accepting the loss.

‘when?’ he asks, fingers still weaving through your hair.

‘at five,’ the columnist position disappearing from in front of your eyes, ‘it’s okay.. i’m sure there’ll be another job.. somewhere,’ trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

frankly, you’d be lucky if you had a job at this point. simmon’s wouldn’t keep you on if you didn’t turn up tomorrow night and the internship had finished.

‘have you finished it?’ adjusting in the seat, tilting your head up towards him.

you nod, swallowing as you’re sure you can guess what he’s going to say next. there’s not a chance you’d let him drive back just to hand in your stupid column.

‘i’ll take it, you just gotta tell me what and where to go,’ lips twitching into a soft smile, massaging your cheek with his thumb.

‘no, i can’t ask you to do that,’ jutting your bottom lip out.

‘you didn’t, i offered.. it’s different.’

you pause, stomach fluttering and all you can do it nod. brain turning to mush as his eyes study your face, the slight curve of his pretty pink lips was entrancing. snapping back to reality when you remembered where you were.

‘i’ll go when your mom comes back, yeah?’

‘if you’re sure.. it’s in my bag in your room, i can text you the address.. you really don’t have to,’ blinking up at him, astounded by his kindness, the pure calmness he exudes.

‘shut up, i want to,’ reassuring you with a smile, brushing the hair off of your forehead.

he goes the second your mom turns up, looking slightly more like herself, giving him a small appreciative hug for staying with you all night.

the inevitable grilling is cut short when ross opens his eyes, coughing and spluttering as he comes to. both of you rushing to his bedside, being ever so gentle to not hurt his already fragile body.

he’s still sleepy, but so grateful to see you at his side. you swear to yourself, and to him to not ever be away from him for so long again. your heart wrenching at his weak smile, clinging to his cold fingers and reaffirming a million times that you were here.

you’re milling around the bright, sterile room. waiting for the nurse to administer the next round of drugs when your phone rings, startling you.

it’s eddie. stepping out of the room into the silent hallway and answering.

‘hello?’ smiling to yourself the second you hear his voice.

‘hey.. did you do it?’

‘yup, all handed in.. she said something about an email? i don’t really know.. but yeah, it’s in,’ you can hear the slam of his van door.

breathing a sigh of relief knowing that maybe all hadn’t been lost, ‘thank you.. thank you so much.’

‘i spoke to.. fuck, i think his name was david? he said to take the week off and he hopes your brother’s okay.’

‘you went to simmon’s? eddie i- you didn’t have to.. thank you,’ your heart bursting through your chest, you weren’t sure that anyone had ever cared about you this much.

‘now.. i’ve got you some clothes, d’you want me to bring them now or i can come later?’ his jury’s jangling in the background.

you want to tell him no, to stop being so kind, to stop making your heart swell with every word, every thoughtful action. but you can’t, instead nodding enthusiastically though he couldn’t see you.

‘you can come now.. thank you, i owe you my life,’ listening to the engine turn on, already on his way back to you.

‘you owe me nothin’.. i’ll be about an hour, okay?’

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #modern!eddie munson

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