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cielie-voss · 4 months

Note

Hey there!

Stumbled across your blog and fell in love with your Eddie Fics! 😍

If you're still taking request, I'd like to request something Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, where Reader works at a bar or cafe and Eddie is on tour with Corroded coffin and meets her at work. She doesn't believe that he's a rockstar and thinks he just wants to impress her until one day, she accepts his silly pickup lines and goes on a date with him.

If you don't like this, it's totally fine. Hope you have some peaceful holidays (and a very unmerry Christmas, absolutely loved this!)

Rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it! I just wanted to write something short and simple (ha, jokes on me, short and simple seems to be something not possible for me). I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Rockstar AU, Fluff, bad pickup lines, idiots in love, mutual pining, Reader is a writer, some petnames, takes place in the 90's. Wordcount: ~8k ("something short and simple") Summary: After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong. Taglist: @violetmiroh If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗 Masterlist

Finally.

After years of stress and torture you finally found some freedom. You successfully graduated college with your major in literature, ready to enter the real world. And that’s not the only thing you had to master throughout the past years.

“Why don’t you study something useful? Maybe business administration? Or marketing?” Your parents had perfected the game of making your life a living hell. Literature was something useless for them. Something where you would never get a real job. But you wanted nothing less than to write. Write about everything. Poems. Dramas. Novels. You wanted to tell the world about the little stories in your mind. But writing wasn’t a job. At least in your parents opinion.

“Did you meet a nice guy? At least some guy that likes girls who can’t get their noses out of these damn books? Any friends other than Tolkien or Poe?” God, these people are so ignorant. Everytime you visited your family or called them, your mother had another blind date arranged for you.

“You remember Daron? Yeah, the Daron you went to elementary school with. His fiancée cheated on him, you know? He’s such a nice and handsome guy. Why don’t you call him? Wouldn’t it be sweet if you guys meet again after years?” No, mom, that wouldn’t be sweet.

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I asked Fred and his mother to come over for lunch. You remember Fred, right? He used to tease you back in middle school. You know what they say: lovers like to tease each other!” You were glad your mother turned away from you as you were rolling your eyes dramatically. Laughing at her own ridiculous joke, she turned to Fred and his mother.

To be honest, your dating life was just as miserable as it could be. Even without your mothers help. And not because of what you were studying or your interests, like your mother said. Or because of your casual and comfy style or mostly reserved and introverted personality. Your heartaches and frustration with the male gender was mostly due to their immature behavior.

Over the years you experienced nearly all sorts of failed romances. Caught them cheating, being ghosted, unknowingly ended up as a one night stand, being the affair, constant fighting, being rejected and creepy mothers who tried to arrange a wedding after two weeks of going out or guys with a special relationship to their mothers. Some weird Norman Bates kind of relationship. There was even one guy, whom you really liked, that sadly turned out to be gay.

“Why did you have to move so far away?” Well, this one is self-explanatory.

“At least you could call us every second day.” Thanks, but no thank you. You didn’t want to give them another way of terrorizing you with their unrealistic ideas and expectations.

All you wanted was to live your life the way you wanted to, and not how they wanted your life to be. No parents, no stress, and most important: no dating. Just you.

So after you graduated and broke up with the seemingly most perfect guy, who turned out to be a rotten liar and the most unfaithful piece of shit, who didn’t just cheated on you multiple times, but also stole your hard earned money, you decided to take a year off to travel around the world, to find yourself. You sold your car and the stuff you wouldn’t need anymore and with that money, you started your journey.

On your trip you’ve seen the probably most beautiful cities and met even more wonderful people. To afford your stay you worked from time to time in little cafés and lovely bars. In exchange for room and board you worked as a temporary worker on farms. In your free time you sat down and wrote. The people and landscapes were so inspiring, you filled one notebook after another with short stories, poems and even started to work on something that might be your first novel. Every now and then you sent your works to different agencies and participated in writing competitions, improved your writing and earned some reputation for your works.

London was the city you stayed the longest. You stayed with a lovely family, the Bakers, who owned a little pub in the outskirts of London. They treated you like family, like a family you never had but always wished for. You helped them with their household, tutored the kids after school and worked downstairs at the pub in the evening.

When you had a day off, you’d usually sit down at the bar, a pint of ale in front of you, pen in hand. The words seemed to flow right out of your pen, as natural as breathing.

You could’ve never wished for a better time. The Bakers treated you like a daughter they never had, and even the regulars at the pub treated you like one of the Bakers. Between lovely drunken blue-collar workers, who loved to tell their stories and sing their work songs, you felt somehow at home, you felt safe and came out of your shell. With each day you became more extroverted, literally flourishing and bristling with self-confidence.

And it was in that pub where you met the guy in Jean's vest who stood out like a sore thumb in this scenery. From behind the bar you couldn't help but notice how his leg bounced up and down like a nervous child. After some minutes you decided to help him calm down a bit.

“Are you waiting for your date?” With a warm smile you looked down on him.

“Huh?” As if you pulled him out of a trance, he winced and looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. You huffed at his reaction and sat down the pint in front of him.

“I asked, if you’re waiting for your date to show up.” The smile remained on your lips as you looked into his big brown puppy eyes. His eyes darted to the pint you just gently shoved towards him.

“Don’t worry, that’s on the house.” You assured him.

“Thanks, uh … “ Again, like he was in a trance-like state, he shakes his head and looks back at you. “My name’s Eddie.” He reached his hand out to you and you shook it. You noticed the unusual rings that adorned his fingers and the little bats that were tattooed on his forearm. He obviously didn’t belong here.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N.”

There was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn't identify. So after a short moment of awkward silence you took a sharp breath in, pulled your lips into a thin smile and said “Anyway, let me know if I could do anything for you. And good luck with that date.” You gave him a wink and turned back to your bar to serve the regulars who are now, bit by bit, rolling along.

As the hours ticked by and the bar settled into its usual hustle and bustle, you found yourself repeatedly returning your gaze to Eddie. Something about his appearance had a mesmerizing effect on you. And there was no way you could say what it was that captivated you.

Slowly he began to warm up a bit, engaged in conversations with some other guests, but without further notice, he also caught himself repeatedly trying to catch a glimpse of you.

“Make sure he gets home safe!”, you called out to the cabbie, a lovely man named Barnaby, after you accompanied a slightly drunk Tommy outside to the cab.

“Y/N, my dearest!” Tommy slurred after you handed him over into Barnaby’s hands. “One day, I promise, I will introduce you to my son! I’ll gladly take you as my daughter-in-law!”

“Go home and sober up, then we’ll see!”, you laughed and waved the drunk redhead, with a face glowing as red as his hair, goodbye.

“Isn’t she just the most loveliest person on earth?” Tommy asked, now turned to Barnaby, who was just smiling and nodding in approval.

Quietly grinning to yourself you closed the door and headed back to the bar. It was already past midnight, the pub slowly became quieter until Eddie was the only one sitting there, his ringed fingers wrapped around his emptied glass.

“I guess it’s time to kindly tell me to fuck off, isn’t it?” You had to admit that Eddie’s puppy eyes made you soft.

You cocked your head and with an apologetical expression you nodded. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie just shrugged, a sheepish smile playing around his lips as he carefully slid the glass towards you.

“It’s okay. I’m glad I had the chance to be stood up and get you as my substitute-date.” He got up from the old, shrieking bench, winked at you and left the bar.

“Keep the change, Y/N my dearest!”, he chanted.

Only now did you look down at the glass and saw the bills peeking out from underneath. You wanted to shout out to him “Eddie, I think you made a mistake!”, but he was gone and left you with this lavish tip.

For a moment you stood there, stunned by this man, before Mr. Baker could pull you back to reality. “C’mon Y/N, it’s late, go to bed and get some sleep.” You turned around to face him, the human version of a teddybear, looking down at you with a knowing smile. You quickly took care of closing out the register before stuffing Eddie's tip into the big tip jar.

“No, no, no. You keep that.” Mr. Baker pulled out the bills and handed them over to you. “It’s yours.” And before you had the chance to protest, he patted your shoulder and gently pushed you towards the door that leads to the family’s private apartment.

You tried to find some sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, you saw this lovely smile and these big round puppy eyes. God damnit! Why did he have to be so cute?

The next morning you pulled out your notebook, after multiple failed attempts to fall back asleep again. Maybe some writing would banish this handsome face out of your mind that kept you awake. But jokes on you!

Your mind always wandered back to this guy, his messy hair, the sloppy smile, the tattoos on his arm, his big, brown eyes … It was enough to drive you up the wall. So instead of accidentally turning the love interest in your little fantasy romance into a copy of Eddie, you put down your writing stuff, took a deep breath and left your room.

When you entered the small kitchen, Penelope Baker, who everyone called Poppy, already waited for you with a knowing smirk dancing around her thin lips.

“Good morning, lovely.”, she chirped, her words underlined with a cheeky undertone that made you stop mid motion. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and cocked your head before you let yourself down on your chair.

“Good morning.”, you answered with a skeptical frown.

“Coffee?” As if nothing had happened, Poppy offered you the coffee pot. With a nod you cued her to pour the steaming hot liquid in your cup. You thanked her and wrapped your hands around the cup to warm yourself a bit. The smell of this freshly grounded coffee filled your nose and was already enough to wake up your still sleepy mind.

Just as you thought Poppys previous smirk was just another one of her quirky habits and meant nothing, her voice turned into that typical ‘I’m your mother and know exactly what’s going on’-tone as she said “So Theodore told me about that guy last night.”

For a split second you froze, then let out a sighed “Oh my god.”

“What? Teddy said he seemed to like you. Oh lord, isn’t that adorable? A young, handsome, mysterious guy showing up, unexpectedly sweeping this young lady off her feet.” In a dramatic motion she clutched her hands to her chest and jumped out of her chair.

“Oh, young love! I would give anything to feel like this again in my old days.” As if she was dancing with the ghost of a long lost lover, she seemingly floated through the small kitchen.

With a frustrated sigh you buried your face in your hands. Your grumbled “Oh my god” was more embarrassed this time.

“But you do know I’m right here, my love?”, Theodore coaxed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Tz, I’m not talking about you, Teddy.”, she waved him off.

Sensing the upcoming argument, even if it’s not meant seriously, you grabbed your cup of coffee and sneaked out of the kitchen. “Okay. I guess that’s my cue to leave you two alone.”

The rest of the day you spent with Nathan and Ethan, helping them with their homework. You haven’t met a lot of twins in your life so far, but you never met twins that were so different from each other than Nathan and Ethan, which made tutoring them a real challenge. But sitting between these bickering boys was still a better alternative than being ribbed about Eddie by Teddy and Poppy.

Since it was your day off and you couldn’t focus on your writing upstairs in your little room, you went down into the pub earlier than usual. Your hopes were high that the hustle and bustle around you would distract your mind a bit so you could focus on your writing.

The first few sentences had a hard time coming out. But after you got back into your flow the words came out on their own. That was until you noticed a brown haired figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Aw, did you miss me?”, you leered and leaned back to face Eddie with a smug grin. “Or do you wanna give your date a second chance?”

“Well, actually,” Eddie declared, nonchalantly dropping into the seat opposite you, “I was just trying to get away from some of these pushy fangirls, you know?”

As if he was discussing the weather, he leaned back, fingers tapping a casual rhythm on the table. “Yeah, sure. Clingy fans,” you joked, closing your notebook and using the pen as a bookmark.

“Listen, being a rockstar isn’t easy when you’re smoking hot like me,” he explained, a self-assured chuckle escaping him as he tilted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.

You disappeared behind the bar and met a very amused looking Mister Baker.

With furrowed brows, you leaned to your side in an attempt to peer through one of the beautiful stained glass windows. Eddie followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a puzzled expression after trying in vain to discern what had caught your attention.

"What?" he inquired, reverting to the shy and nervous behavior from yesterday.

You couldn't contain the giggles bubbling out of your chest as you leaned back and faced Eddie again. "Nothing. I was just trying to get a glimpse of all those fangirls you escaped from."

"Oh, great, you're making fun of me," Eddie stated, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Eddie. You're trying to convince me you're a rockstar." You waited for a response, anticipating another remark about his alleged status as a musician, but were met with a sulky Eddie instead.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mister Rockstar," you apologized playfully. "How about a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered in an exaggerated pouty manner.

“Don’t you dare say a single word!”, you hissed to the man and to emphasize your statement, you raised a warning finger. Still grinning, he playfully raised his hand, mimicking the action of locking up his lips with an imaginary key.

You poured beer into two pints and placed one of them in front of Eddie.

“Cheers.” With your glass raised for a toast, you added “Let’s start over again. Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His eyes darted between you and his beer until he eventually gave in. “Hi Y/N, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.” As you clinked glasses you locked eyes, which unexpectedly sparked something inside of you. Something you couldn’t quite explain, but it felt unexpectedly good.

For the rest of the evening, your intention to continue with your manuscript was completely forgotten and replaced by the desire to talk to Eddie for hours. He asked about your notebook and after you told him that you were about to write a novel, you found yourself in a lively conversation about your favorite authors with him.

You talked about Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf for hours without noticing how late it was getting. There was this spark between you and him that ignited a fire within your soul, a fire that became bigger and bigger the more you talked about your interests. And when you spoke, his eyes were literally glued to your lips. You’ve never felt more comfortable in your life than in this exact moment, talking to a stranger about your biggest passion and your dreams to publish your first fantasy novel.

A few more beers followed, Teddy even brought you some snacks. Then Eddie told you about the DnD campaigns he planned and plotted years ago with his friends, his love for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and assured you that he’ll be the first one to buy your book. When you told him, you never had the chance to play DnD, because you never really had that kind of friends, something flashed in his eyes.

“You never played DnD?" Eddie's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as if your statement had personally offended his very existence. "Oh, what a shame! Okay, you know what?” His elbows crashed onto the table, and he leaned in so close that you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze. His soft eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. “I, Eddie Munson, promise you, Y/N Y/L/N, that I’ll introduce you to the world of DnD one day.” With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he dramatically raised his pinkie for a solemn pinkie promise, an act you sealed with your own pinkie.

“Alright, deal.”, you whispered, absolutely mesmerized by the guy you just met yesterday.

“Deal.” He repeated solemnly.

“Okay, you lovebirds.” Mister Baker's voice interrupted your promise, pulling your attention back to reality. The pub around you was empty and the chairs were already put back on the tables. “I’m really sorry, but my wife will kill me if I don’t close the pub soon.”

With your face blushing with shame you quickly leaned back into your seat and looked away. How embarrassing that must have been to watch. Like you were teenagers again.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a look at the clock. “Oh, shit, yeah. I should go now, my friends are surely wondering where I am. Goodnight, Y/N.” He paused for a moment to look at you one last time before he left the pub in a hurry.

The looks both Mr Baker and Mrs Baker gave you were unequivocally. But in your opinion, they were reading something into your casual conversation with Eddie. Something you didn’t seem to perceive.

The next few days, Eddie found himself inexplicably pulled to that charming little pub, his heart fluttering with excitement every time he spotted your Y/H/C hair behind the bar through the stained glass windows. Without fail, he made his way there each evening, armed with a new and absurd excuse. Sneaking up behind you, he would unleash the most cringe-worthy pickup lines, each one more outrageous than the last. You'd heard your fair share of cheesy pickup lines over the years, but none had ever elicited the same blend of blushes and giggles that Eddie's managed to. It was as if you both had regressed to the age of twelve, sharing a playful banter that was both bad and yet undeniably funny.

As you brought his first pint of beer for the evening, you found him crouched forward in his seat, his face twisted in an exaggerated expression of pain. Concern etched on your face, and with furrowed brows you asked, “Everything's okay, Eddie?” To which he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you." This unexpectedly caught you off guard, and despite your efforts to suppress them, snickers escaped you, filling the air with shared laughter.

Another very stressful evening, when you passed him with a full tray of empty glasses, he said “Hey, Y/N, you dropped something!”

“Huh?” You promptly came to standstill, the glasses clinking at the abrupt stop, and tried to figure out what you had dropped. But after you couldn’t find a damn thing and slowly became somewhat desperate, you noticed Eddie's lopsided smile. He seemed to be biting back his laughter as he quipped, “My jaw”, and brought that lovely smile of yours back to your lips with this poor attempt at flirting with you.

One evening, you were seated at the bar, leisurely sipping your coke, when Eddie stealthily approached from behind. Gently placing his hands around your waist, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You know, with all these secret rendezvous with you, I feel like I’m a spy or something. Hidden identities, clandestine meetings, just you and me, and no one knows about this, far away from the public.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and retorted, "Oh, please. You're not James Bond, Eddie."

He chuckled, "I may not be James Bond, but I am a famed rockstar by night.” To make sure no one heard him, he looked left and right, then turned back to you. “Shh, it's a secret!", he whispered and winked at you.

After releasing you, his warm hands leaving a lingering sensation, you sighed and turned your barstool to face him. For a fleeting moment, your gaze flickered to his slightly parted lips, now curled into a smug grin. Looking back into his eyes, you cocked your head and, absolutely unimpressed, countered, "Yeah. Nice try, buddy. You're not fooling anyone with that."

By now, your jokes about him allegedly being a rockstar didn’t seem bother him anymore. No. Instead he chimed in on your jokes, complained about clingy fangirls, unreliable sound engineers, the bad food during their tour. And you laughed at his jokes, thinking he was trying to impress you.

You could’ve sworn he must have heard your heart beating heavily in your chest when, with his hand resting on the counter behind you for support, Eddie leaned forward, nearly brushing your cheek. Just inches away from your face, the sensation of his breath on your skin caused a shudder to run through your body. If you would have tried to stand up, you suspected your legs would give way, as your body inexplicably turned to jelly in the mere proximity of him.

Eddie flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? But it seems like it doesn’t necessarily need a secret agent or rockstar to sweep you off your feet, right?" His coarse voice, barely above a whisper, was vibrating in his chest. Chuckling, he leaned back, feigning nonchalance, though a subtle twinkle in his eye hinted at the amusement behind his teasing attempt. As his face, and lips, were outside the danger zone, you noticed that you were straining holding your breath for what felt like an eternity.

“How was your date?” Poppy asked teasingly as you came upstairs one evening. Eddie brought you his copy of The Hobbit and some flowers he picked from some front yard that reminded him of you. The pub was very crowded that evening, so you two decided to just chill in the backyard, counting stars and eating the cookies he brought.

“That was not a date.”, you declared and rolled your eyes.

“Oh. Of course. No date. I understand. Like the other not-a-dates you two had the last couple nights, right?” Poppy winked at you knowingly. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so you turned away and took care of the dirty dishes.

One day Eddie came to the pub earlier than usual. The pub wasn’t even open yet. Shaking from the nervousness that filled his body, he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the pub. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was all nervous and excited like this. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, as he waited for you to come down after he rang the doorbell.

“Okay Eddie. Breath in-” He took a deep breath in, “- breath out.” His breath was shaking. And since his attempt at calming himself down didn’t quite have the effect he wished for, he took a long drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke that had at least a little soothing effect on his nerves.

“Eddie?” The sudden sound of your voice made him jump, causing you to smile. You stuck your head out of a window and looked down on him.

“Hey, Y/N!”, he greeted you. All of a sudden the words he already laid out in his head vanished into thin air.

“I … Y/N would you … I mean …” Eddie closed his eyes, took another deep breath and gathered his courage. “Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?” With furrowed brows he looked up to you. His heart nearly jumped out his chest as the words left his lips.

“You mean like a date?” The smile on your face grew wider than ever before. “A rockstar is asking someone like me out for a date? Is this some cinderella kind of story?” Your nervous laughter made him hold his breath, expectantly waiting for your final answer. His body tensed up as you finally nodded, accepting his invitation.

“Sure. When and where?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he told you the time and place.

“Alright. See you tonight!” You waved him goodbye and disappeared back into your room.

“Yeah, see you tonight.”, he whispered dreamy with his eyes fixed on your window for a little longer before he turned around and went back to his friends.

“So how’s the no-date-policy going?” Teddy leaned against your doorframe as you turned around, grinning like a highschooler that’s been asked out to prom.

“Oh shut up.”, you laughed in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Hey! Poppy! Guess who has a date tonight!”, Teddy’s voice echoed through the apartment. His words had only just left his lips when Poppy was already standing in your room, seemingly faster than light and with a grin that almost looked scary.

“He asked you out?” But before you could answer, she grabbed you by your hands, pulled you into a tight embrace and swirled you around. “I never thought I could be any prouder as a mother than this.”

“Poppy, she’s not -” Teddy tried to intervene to remind her that you were not their actual daughter. But Poppy, filled with pride, interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, Teddy.”

Still giggling she released you to look you up and down. You were still in your baggy shorts and a faded shirt, that once used to be a blue and violet tie dye. The longer she looked at you, the more you got anxious.

“So … “ she started after a moment. “And what are you going to wear?”

“What?” Her question caught you off guard. You were still busy to not freak out with joy.

“What are you going to wear tonight? Sure you can’t go on a date looking like this, sweetie.” Well, she was pretty damn right with that. In your mind you went through your little options. Because you were often switching between hostels and other places to stay the night, you chose not to carry that much clothing around with you. So most of your outfits consist of simple shirts, most of them already pretty baggy and faded, and some simple jeans. Nothing that you could wear on a date to make a good impression. Well, you honestly didn’t intend to go on dates anyway.

“Oh my god.”, now you have started to freak out. “What the hell am I going to wear?!” With furrowed brows and slightly panicking you looked at Poppy.

“Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” She gently squeezed your hand, then left your room, skipping like an excited child.

“I guess I should leave you two girls alone.”, Teddy whispered to you, somehow happy to leave this intimate mother-daughter moment.

As long as Poppy combed through her wardrobe, you faced the mirror, trying to tame your hair to look nice and girly and not like a crazy witch. Just as you were trying to braid your hair, Poppy came back with a pile of clothes. This might be a more complicated and complex quest than you thought.

You tried on outfit after outfit. Dresses. Skirts with lovely ruffle blouses. Your favorite so far was a dark brown culottes with a fluffy beige blouse. That was until Poppy pulled out a dress, short puffed sleeves, flowy skirt and a lovely floral pattern. You instantly put it on. The fabric was soft and light, the layered dip hem skirt flowed down from your waist like a waterfall of flowers. You never were a fan of these oldschool puffed sleeves, but you had to admit, that these were pretty flattering. Around your waist, the fabric was a bit ruffled up and tightened in your back like a corset. And the neckline was low-cut, but not too revealing.

As you eyed your reflection, admiring how the dress accentuates your favorite features and yet managed to conceal your insecurities, Poppy carefully completed the dress with a cute little necklace.

“You look absolutely stunning!” She stood right behind you with her hands on your shoulders and examined your reflection too, looking like the proud and loving mother you never had.

“Thanks Poppy.” was all you managed to get out at the moment. You never considered yourself good looking, not even close. Instead you always tried to hide your body and your low self esteem. But your new found family taught you in so many different ways how beautiful and stunning you actually were, on the inside as well as on the outside.

It felt like an eternity until it became evening and your long-awaited date with Eddie came closer. Watching the clock hands seemingly move in slow motion, your impatience grew with every second to infinity. Poppy helped you to braid your hair and embellished your french braids with colorful flowers from their balcony.

Every fiber of your body was tense and it was a miracle you managed to walk to your destination. Nervously fidgeting with your ring, you found the place Eddie told you. But to your surprise, it wasn’t a restaurant or bar. It was a nightclub. Every time the door opened, rock music blared outside, then fell silent again when the door closed.

Did he mess up the address? Or did you mess up? Anxious, you verified the address of this place over and over again, finding no mistake, until the ticket taker spoke to you, thinking you were the next in line. “What’s your name?”

Pulled out of your thoughts you looked at him. “What?”

“What is your name, so I can let you in.”, he repeated.

“Oh, Y/N Y/L/N, but I think I got the wrong address, sorry.”

Just as you were about to leave, embarrassed and downhearted, he opened the door for you and the music carried you inside.

As you hesitantly entered the club you simultaneously entered a whole different galaxy. The heavy guitar sounds and fast drums adapted to the fast and nervous beating of your heart. With a loud thud the door slammed shut behind you.

People mostly dressed in black leather jackets or jeans vests covered in patches, pins and studs ushered you further into the club. You let yourself get carried by the wave of metalheads, standing out like a sore thumb with your cute little dress and the flowers in your hair. The masses around you came to a stop and you found yourself in front of a big stage that was covered in red light, a flag hanging on the wall behind the setup that announced a band named ‘Corroded Coffin’.

Squinting your eyes, you tried to find the guy with the wild, brown hair, but to your disappointment you couldn’t find him. After some minutes of desperately searching for that lovely smile, the few lights that tried in vain to lighten up the whole place dimmed and everything fell silent for a moment before some slow and hauntingly beautiful guitar riffs filled the air. Your eyes needed some time to adapt to the darkness around you. The crowd started to cheer frenziedly, jumping up and down uncontrollably as the heavy beats of a drum joined the guitar. Caged in that impetuous jostling, you had to stand on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the now partially lit up stage.

And when you caught sight of that wild, dark brown mane, you froze for a second, eyes wide open in shock. “No fucking way”, you mouthed in disbelieve.

The world around you seemed to fall into slow motion as the realization hit you hard. That guy in front of you, believe it or not, was Eddie. Eddie Munson, the guy you randomly met at a pub and made fun of because he claimed to be a rockstar. He was shredding his guitar like a maniac, a burst of energy radiating from him. And just as the crowd was about to freak out with excitement, he grabbed the microphone and, with a contagious enthusiasm, hollered to the crowd, "Alright, folks! Let's make some noise that'll shake these walls! We're here for a hell of a good time, so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride!" The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the concert kicked off with a surge of electrifying energy.

His eyes were scanning the crowd, desperately looking for your unmistakingly beautiful face. Fortunately his eyes found you, his look a mix of triumph and satisfaction. A silent declaration that spoke volumes, as if to say ‘See, I wasn’t pulling your leg.’ Still in disbelief, you shook your head as you watched him perform with his band.

“In the shadows of the night, where the demons come alive,

Echoes of thunder, a twisted ride, where the fearless dare to strive.

As the spirits intertwine, prancing to a symphony of the dark,

In the heart of rebellion, we leave our lasting mark.”

Even though this wasn't your type of music, the sight of your type of guy performing like he's possessed by the devil himself made the whole show surprisingly enjoyable.

“Rising from the ashes, we're forged in the fire,

restless souls and a rebel's desire,

Riding the storm, breaking the chains.

Legends are born in the heat of the fight,

In the roar of the crowd, where freedom reigns.”

For the rest of the concert, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you. The sea of leather and denim jeans around you blurred into a viscous, gray mass, completely insignificant to him. All that mattered to him at that moment was you – your smile, outshining any star in the night sky, and your eyes, radiating a warmth that could envelop him even in the darkest of clouds overshadowing his mind.

The thundering beat of your heart, on the verge of explosion with excitement, merged seamlessly with the unexpectedly peppy song. At first, it was just the drums, synced with the slow strumming of the bass, gradually increasing its pace until it abruptly fell silent, giving way to Eddie's voice as he chimed in.

You couldn't have possibly missed the smug grin on Eddie's face, the grin you began to love throughout the past days, as he let his piercing guitar riffs slice through the dense air. The drums and bass seamlessly joined in, weaving together to unveil Eddie's latest song, evidently penned about a certain girl he had met just days ago.

“In a haze of neon lights, the city's heartbeat loud,

A crowded room, lost faces in the crowd.

Then there she stood, a vision rare,

Sweet innocence like the flowers in her hair.”

After they played their last song and the stage was once again covered in darkness, the masses around you, still hyped, rushed outside. Countless thoughts mixed with a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you, leaving you riveted to the spot, unable to move. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of Eddie's wild mane while he climbed down from the stage, there was nothing that could’ve held you back. With a flock of muttered and incomprehensible excuses gushing out of your mouth, you pushed yourself through the remaining crowd towards Eddie.

“Her laughter echoes, a sweet serenade.

Lost in the moment, nothing else compares.

Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night,

A sweet surrender, everything felt right.

Her words like poetry, a gentle breeze,

In the storm of life, she puts my mind at ease.

In the chaos of life, she's my symphony.”

“Eddie!” A security guard blocked your path, but you exerted all your strength to reach Eddie. “Please, let me through. I know Eddie; we’re friends. Please,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes and waving desperately for Eddie to notice you.

“Okay, you lovebirds. Don’t you think we should go somewhere more … quieter? At least with less prying spectators.”, the bassist, a tall guy with a smile sweet as honey which he desperately tried to hide, suggested.

“Nice try. I can’t let you through; the backstage area is just for the band.” The guard attempted to shoo you away, gently restraining you.

“No, you don’t understand. I…” Eddie, prompted by his drummer who pointed at you and the guard, rushed towards you, wearing the broadest smile on his lips.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name startled the guard, who turned his head, sensing trouble he needed to address. Taking advantage of the distraction, without a second thought, you leaped over the barrier.

There was no way anyone could have held you back at that moment.

Everything unfolded rapidly, yet it felt like slow motion as you enveloped him in your arms. His warm hands cupped your face, fingers entangled in your hair. His lips met yours, moving in sync to a silent rhythm set by your connected heartbeats.

“Okay, nothing to see here, guys!” His bandmates pivoted to shield the curious looks of the crowd, slightly bewildered by the unexpected sight of their lead singer's romantic interlude.

“I never thought you would actually come,” he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss but still cradling your face with his calloused hands. His voice trembled, and you could feel his heart pounding violently against your chest.

“And I never thought you were telling the truth, but here we are,” you retorted, still breathless, earning a laugh from him—a laughter you never wanted to miss in your life again.

“Is this Eddie’s secret girlfriend?” someone screamed excitedly, pointing at you and Eddie.

“Well, does this look like a secret to you?” the drummer huffed, attempting to disperse the onlookers.

With the help of the security, his bandmates managed to give you and Eddie some private space, away from their curious fans. They already suspected something was going on since they couldn’t figure out the reason behind his late night trips or the silly smiles dancing around his lips when he returned to their tour bus. He seemed to be a completely different person after he went out one night after a little argument with their manager. And now they finally had an answer, the answer was right in front of them.

“Yeah, I think Jeff is right,” the drummer agreed. “And don’t you think you should introduce your secret girlfriend to us?” He playfully mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, emphasizing the words with a teasing tone, the rest of the band loudly agreeing. With his arms crossed above his chest and a raised eyebrow, the curly haired drummer, who was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt underneath a red plaid flannel, nearly squeezed himself between you and Eddie.

Eddie took a deep breath and let go of you, silently cursing his nosy friends for interrupting this intimate moment with you. He grabbed you by your hand, squeezing it gently to, on one hand, assure you that everything is okay since he sensed your unease, but on the other hand to make sure you wouldn’t leave his side.

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner and added "When you finally stop pestering me" like an annoyed parent would to silence their nosy child.

"Okay, let’s go, move, move!" the bassist, Jeff, demanded excitedly, ushering them into the backstage area with animated enthusiasm. You clung onto Eddie as the rest of the band, with combined forces, led you two further into the backstage area.

You spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and his Band, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you snuggled against his chest. His friends welcomed you with open arms and treated you as one of them, as if you knew each other for years.

As they settled in, the atmosphere turned light-hearted, and this group of grown up adults, famous rockstars, who had momentarily reverted to their teenage selves, cracked one bad joke after another. Eddie's friends wasted no time in sharing embarrassing stories from their shared past, tales that had long been hidden in the recesses of their memories.

Amidst the banter, they found joy in recounting youthful escapades, revealing anecdotes about Eddie that made him both blush and join in the laughter. The tour bus became a time machine, transporting them back to the days of awkward adolescence, with the added delight of sharing these moments with someone who had now become a part of their close-knit circle.

As hours slipped away, the scent of beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, and your adoration for the dorky, brown-haired guitarist only deepened with each anecdote shared by his bandmates.This became one of those core memories that etch themselves into your soul—a source of perpetual joy, belonging, and safety whenever you reflect upon it.

Even though you enjoyed the time you spent with the band, you longed for some time alone with Eddie. The earlier kiss lingered, leaving a sweet longing in its wake, the taste of him remaining on your lips. Each and every time you caught a glimpse of his lips, your heart seemed to skip a beat and a cozy warmth spread within you as the memory of his lips moving against yours flashed through your mind. And it was no different for Eddie.

Gareth noticed the looks you shared, your nonverbal conversations, not knowing how to get away from the boys for some alone time. So he did what every best friend would do.

“Alright guys.” He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “I think we should give our lovebirds some time for themselves.” As he stood up, he winked at Eddie, who, in return, mouthed a relieved ‘Thank you’. Before you and Eddie left them, everyone hugged you goodbye, like you’ve always been friends.

You stumbled out of the bus, still laughing and grinning like a teenager. The cool air of the night let shivers wash over your body, which Eddie noticed instantly. Like the gentleman he was, he put his jacket around your shoulders and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You pulled him into a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go, your fingers buried in his still sweaty shirt. But you didn’t mind. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered in that moment. His hands slowly wandered up and down your back, his fingers gently painting little circles on your skin.

“I’d love to take you out on a date sometime. A real date.” With his hands cupping your face, he looked down into your eyes. His expression was soft, almost sad at the thought of leaving you soon.

You melted under his touch, a sensation you'd never experienced before. No one had ever made you feel this way, and dreaming of such a connection was something you'd never dared. Surprisingly, Eddie managed to make you forget about your self-imposed "holy oath" against dating again—a so-called no-date policy that now seemed nothing more than a ridiculous joke.

“Come on, sweetness. Let’s get you home,” he whispered after what felt like an eternity. Reluctantly, you agreed and sighed as he broke the embrace. Slowly, you walked back home, taking some detours to prolong the precious moments with him.

Beneath the cloudless night sky, with the moon casting its enchanting glow on the Thames, turning its surface into an ocean of little, shiny diamonds, you felt like you were living in a dream. The most beautiful dream you never wanted to wake up from. All the way back to the pub you talked about home, his tour, your plans for the future, and your plans for whatever that was you two had going on.

With a heavy heart, you sauntered through the small alleys, cast in the dim light of old lanterns, drawing closer to the pub where your little story began. Soon, you recognized the green and brown stained glass windows of the pub, illuminated by the fairy lights Poppy insisted on decorating them with. You knew that Poppy and Teddy would probably be worried about you since it was getting pretty late, but you still didn’t want to leave Eddie's side.

“Whenever and wherever you want,” you promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I can’t wait to spend more time with you.” You reached up to him, your fingers combing through his soft hair, and gently kissed him again. Eddie's tensed body relaxed under your touch, and you thought you heard a soft moan leaving his chest as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, a shrill screeching cut through the silence, abruptly interrupting your kiss. “Teddy! Teddy, they’re kissing! Oh my god!” Poppy’s excited voice echoed from the small balcony, where she must have been watching the two of you, causing you both to break out in laughter.

“I bet she won't give up until I tell her every single detail about tonight,” you whispered, placing another kiss on Eddie's rough lips.

“Please don’t give this old lady a heart attack with your lewd disclosure of our little romance,” he admonished in a playful way between kisses.

“Teddy! Hurry up! They’re kissing again! Oh, sweet, sweet young love!” her voice filled the air again.

“Jesus Christ, she’s worse than all of those pushy fangirls,” he joked, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, sure, Mister Rockstar.”

“What? Don’t believe me?” He looked down at you, something provocative flashing through his eyes.

“Well, maybe I would believe you if you take me to one of your shows, Mister Rockstar,” you winked back at him, a smug grin dancing on your lips before he could kiss it away.

___________

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

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univvrse · 10 months

Text

the coven

reader x bakugou x shinsou x kaminari x kirishima

Coven- a formation of at least three or more vampires He told you they were dangerous- why didn't you believe him?

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

1.6k words

Your whole life had been ordinary, perfectly normal to the extent it had almost been boring; something was missing. You had just moved out of your parents house and in fact the whole country- you had just moved to Japan from America, desperately longing for independence, something new. Something exciting. And most certainly, if something exciting was what you were looking for- you had picked the right town:

Tonight was one of the nights where you just couldn't get to sleep. They weren't uncommon. You had already flipped your pillow over multiple times and so both sides were feverishly warm. You quickly checked your alarm clock that sat on your bedside table; it read 03:46. Even though, you had left your hometown in the hunt for something fresh- you missed your old home- the sun, the people and most importantly the life that you had left behind.

Maybe a walk would help you use up enough energy to help you get to sleep. As quietly as you could manage (not wanting to wake your new neighbours) you sat up and heaved your legs over the side of the bed.

You walked across your room, grabbing a jacket from the bedroom floor as you went. You pulled on your jacket and quickly stopped to pull on a pair of jeans that were lying haphazardly on the floor. You grabbed your phone from where you earlier had put it on the side of your bed and put it into the pocket of your jeans.

Swiftly, you walked down the stairs, grabbed keys as you walked and stuck them into the keyhole of your front door. You shivered at the unexpected draft as stepped outside. You quickly shaking of the original shock and began to walk.

Once you had closed and locked the door behind you, you stepped out into the darkness. You shoved your key into your jean pocket. You began to walk across the paved, concrete streets of your new neighbourhood. The cold air stung and bit at your face as you walked. It was dark, lit only by a few dim street lights and the moon. You walked for what felt around 10 minutes until you reached the gathering of trees near your new home.

You were surrounded by tall pine trees. With only a path stretching out deeper and deeper into the unlit wood. It was creepy to say the least.

Trying to ignore the cold, you walked along the concrete path that stretched along as far as you could see. The silence was deafening, with only your quiet footsteps and the slight wind rustling through the trees. You eventually sat down on an old bench, the structural integrity was questionable as the wet wood seemed to be rotting at the base of the legs

You pulled your feet onto the wood and your legs against your chest before looking up at the night sky. It was a clear night, probably why it was so cold, and you could see all the bright stars above you. The moon was nearly full, bright and you found the light strangely comforting.

You decided that you would only sit there for a few minutes before you would head back home to try and get some rest.

However, you were sat there for who knows how long before a purple haired boy who seemed about your age approached where you were sitting. He was . "This seat taken?" he asked, motioning to the empty seat next to you. "Uh well no but-”

“What are you doing out so late?" the boy asked interrupting you and sitting next to you.

"Couldn't sleep." you mumbled, just loud enough for him to be able to hear you "I assume you're the same?"

He chuckled slightly "Well you could say that. You should be careful; you never know who could be lurking in the dark”. He smiled, flashing his teeth. They seemed oddly sharp; you frowned. “What’s your name,” you asked desperately trying to change the subject. “Hitoshi”. It was odd, that sounds like his first name, something reserved for those close to you in Japan. “You?”, he asked the question with intent. You swallowed, “Y/N”. You gave him your first name, hoping to match his energy.

“So, why didn't your parents try and stop you coming out so late tonight?" he asked staring at the sky. "I live alone actually," you laughed awkwardly, surprised at your openness to tell a stranger of this fact; "I just wanted to burn off some energy." “Interesting”, he smirked, showing his sharp canines to you again.

“Your parents don’t care you're gone?" you asked "No, they died a long, long time ago actually.” He let slip. “Oh, fuck I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be it was a long time ago," he paused, clearly thinking of how to change the subject, you could almost here the cogs turning in his head. "I've never seen you round here before."

"Oh I just moved here, I live up in apartments on 8- I just moved from America ." you gave the stranger almost your exact address without a second thought

"Ah, I see," he paused "well sorry but I have to go meet my", he paused for a moment, deciding what word to use; "friends." You sighed, you had been hoping to make a friend in this strange, new town. "You can come; if you want to that is?"

"Oh: yeah that would be great”, you replied not caring that you had barely met him. You were intrigued by him, drawn to him almost.

He stood quickly and offered his hand to help you up. You took it, his hand was ice cold. The coldest thing you had probably ever felt. You shuddered, as he helped you stand. He realised his error. “Oh, shit sorry, I get really cold at night”. He said without even the slightest hesitation, yet something inside you told you it was a lie. Still, you followed him through the winding, seemingly endless streets off the forest. While you walked, he told you about his friends.

“Okay so there’s: Katsuki, you have to be careful around him, okay? He’s like freakishly strong and has the shortest temper, Eijiro’s really nice actually just don’t be a total dick and you’ll be fine. Denki’s cool but kinda creepy, I guess- that's probably not the right word- he's not so bad actually”. You listened intently until he went silent again.

"So Hitoshi, there was other benches in the park, why'd you want to sit next to me” "You can see the stars the best there," the purple haired boy said quickly, almost maliciously but yet you didn’t see it as such. "You're pretty too", he added with a glance in your direction.

"Oh thanks", you replied, not sure of what to say. Eventually, you reached a small clearing in the forest- there sat three boys. All incredibly attractive- to say the least.

“Yo fresh meat!” a red spikey haired boy called as you approached; his skin was pale, almost as pale as Hitoshi's and his read eyes shimmered in the light of the moon. From where you stood, his skin looked perfectly smooth without a blemish or imperfection. Thinking of it, all of their skin was. Fair and undeniably perfect. Hitoshi grabbed your hand, interlocking your warm hand with his cold skin. All of them stared at you with something that almost seemed like hunger for a moment until Hitoshi spoke up. “This is Y/N she’ll be hanging out with us tonight. Be nice.”

“Can we-” one of the blondes said. “Not a chance” Hitoshi growled. You had no idea what the blonde haired boy had been asking but you were now anxious to know. They all looked at you as if you were something to eat.

“Why bring her then?” The other blonde said. He had piercing red eyes that glinted in the light of the moon. “I think you’ll like her.” the purple haired boy said.

They realised that they had been staring and quickly averted their attention towards each other as you sat down with them. Hitoshi looked at you and stared into your eyes for a few moments as if he were about to say something. Before he could the red haired boy spoke up.

“So, Y/N you afraid yet.” “No, should I be?” you asked a forced smile forming on your lips.

"Aren’t you afraid what a group of guys like us are going to do to you all alone in the night when no one else can hear you scream.” “No.” you replied swallowing down your anxiety, you hadn't at all thought about that possibility until you brought it up. “Brave.” The red eyed blonde said, inviting himself into your conversation.

“I’m Denki.” The other blonde said, it rolled off his tongue as if he had done this a thousand times before. “Eijiro,” the red haired boy introduced himself, leaning over Denki to offer you his hand to shake

You took it, his hand was as cold as Hitoshi’s had been. “That’s Katsuki.” He said nodding at the red eye boy who had yet to introduce himself. “Don’t bother talking to him he doesn’t like talking to,” he looked you up and down “people who he says ‘suffer from the disease of mortality’. “What do you mean, like you guys aren’t human or something,” you sniggered. They all burst into laughter. The red haired boy raised a single eyebrow.

“What did Hitoshi not tell you”, Eijiro said to you, you shook your head. Hitoshi sighed; "well then let’s just say we’re- oh what do humans call us.” He paused for a moment.

“Vampires."

#bnha kirishima #denki kaminari #my hero academia #hitoshi shinsou #vampire #fem reader #fast burn #bakugou x reader #denki x reader #shinsou x reader #kirishima x reader #vampire au #alternate universe

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scart-t · 7 months

Text

Helpless and Unplanned

It's night, and after work, Monsieur Quintin grunts as he hits the golf ball at the golf course, letting off some steam.

"Nice shot, Monsieur Quintin," his friend said.

"Why won't it go straight just once? Damn it! Give me a break here!" Quintin yells, frustrated.

His friend and mistress approach him.

"Come on, you're just stressed because of the chairwoman's favoritism over her son," his mistress tries to cheer him up.

"Yeah, everyone knows that you were the first in line to take over as president," his friend agrees.

"So what if this little prick snatches it away?" his friend said.

"The important thing is we're all still behind you, Monsieur Quintin. Ah, maybe this will help you loosen up and relax, huh?" his coworker said as he smirks and hands him a box.

"What's this? What's with the wicked smile? Getting some really creepy vibes from you, huh?" Quintin said, smirking back at his coworker.

"Ta-da!"

They all look inside the box, where stacks upon stacks of mora, probably around 1 million.

"All are in 50,000 bills, and the rest is in your trunk," he whispers.

They all laugh at the sight of money, unknowing to them someone approaches them while bouncing a golf ball with their golf club. After hitting it with ease, it flew past the group of corrupted managers and landed inside the hole in one shot.

"Oooh."

"It's in! That was amazing!" Quintin exclaimed, laughing happily.

"Wow, look at that! Goodness, but who the hell was that? Where are your manners?" Quintin said as he turned around, only to see President Neuvilette walking towards them, holding a golf club resting on his shoulder.

Quintin immediately passed the box with money over to his friend behind his back so that the president didn't see what he was holding.

"It's been a long time, Monsieur Quintin."

Quintin scoffs, "Well, Neuvilette, I'm sorry, I mean President Neuvilette. What, did you get lost on your way to your event?" he says sarcastically.

"I heard you've been working hard."

"Getting kickbacks from old friends, relatives, and even your mistress, selling contracts for partnership deals," Neuvilette cuts him off, listing all the bad things he has been doing.

"Hold it, hold it. Just wait, I have no idea where you have been getting all these rumors."

"That D-lister nephew of yours—you made him the face of your ad campaign. I saw it at the airport," Neuvilette said.

"Oh, about that? You know—"

"You thought it was okay to take advantage of this business since the chairwoman turns a blind eye to what you do," Neuvilette said, taking a step forward while menacingly looking him in the eye.

Quintin gulps and tries to deny the rumors, "President Neuvilette, it's not like that."

"I've been inattentive to company matters, spending so much time in Sumeru. I intend to pay closer attention from now on," Neuvilette said in a serious tone, looking down at Quintin.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Monsieur Quintin," Neuvilette said while smiling. Then, quick as lightning, the smile drops as he leaves them standing there speechless.

"Come on, President Neuvilette!" Quintin sighs, calling after him, but he was ignored.

"Wait, let's just talk!" Quintin tries to follow after him.

"Monsieur Neuvilette, wait!" But then Quintin trips on a rock, and his friends clamor to him, helping him up just in time as the sprinklers turn on, making the group all wet while Neuvilette is already far away from them.

Back at Fontasia Food Company, Lynette walks into the Research and Development 2 office and sits at her desk. Across from her is Friment; to her left is her brother, Lyney, and to her right is Y/N.

"Listen, guys. Since today is Madam Y/N's birthday, I made dinner reservations at her favorite hotel, DeBord," Lynette announces, looking at everyone.

Everyone cheers.

"Nice! We haven't gone out in ages," Lyney said.

"Guys, you didn't have to do that just for my birthday. Thank you!" Y/N said bashfully.

"Of course we did. We're all a team here!" Lyney said, as Lynette and Friment agreed.

"Right," Y/N giggles, but then her phone dings, notifying her of a message. She looks at her phone, and it's from Wriothesly, her friend and crush.

[Wrio<3] Happy birthday!

[Wrio<3] I got you something. Can you swing by?

Y/N blushes, rolls her chair near Madam Lynette's desk, and whispers to her, "Sorry, Madam, about the dinner you were planning. I don't think I can make it later."

"Why?" Lynette whispers back.

"Uhh…" Y/N hesitates, but with the way she is looking, Lynette seems to know what's happening.

"Wait, is it a guy?" she whispers.

"How did you know that?" Y/N said, surprised, her eyes widening.

"Your eyes are usually as dead as the cod you're working with, but suddenly, they're sparkling. That's how."

Y/N blushes.

"Okay, have fun," Lynette teases Y/N and winks.

"Uh, well, it looks like we will be celebrating tonight without the birthday girl," she announces to the boys as she stands up, gathering her things.

"Huh? First the inauguration without the president, and now a birthday party without the birthday girl? What is going on today!" Friment exclaims as Lyney coughs and puts his hands on his waist in disbelief.

"Yeah, seriously. I mean, that's like Thanksgiving without a turkey!" Lyney pouts.

"I'm sorry, but I promise you the next dinner is on me! I'm really sorry," Y/N exclaims as she also stands up with her bag to leave.

As she rides the train all the way to Wriothesly's restaurant, Y/N smiles to herself, thinking about him. Her thoughts are cut off by the buzzing of her phone. It's Kaveh calling her.

"Hey, what's up?"

"What's up, girlie!!! I've got so much on my plate I can't even see you on your birthday. Got anything planned?" Kaveh exclaims on the phone as he makes his way to a meeting.

"Guess what? Wrio asked me to stop by."

Outside the meeting door, Kaveh gestures to his managers, "One second," as he is on the phone.

"Who did what? Why is he calling you on your birthday? After he made you do all that work for his new menu?"

"That was hardly work. I had fun doing it and learned a lot too."

"My Celestia, Y/N, you are really head over heels for Duke Wriothesly, hmm? But he's never been the type to remember birthdays. Why is he—what? No way!" Kaveh exclaims.

"No way what?" Y/N questions him.

"That necklace back then really was your present."

"What necklace?" Y/N thinks about it when suddenly she remembers Wrio asking them to come by his restaurant to help with his menu. Kaveh was snooping around and came back to Y/N, showing her the necklace that has her birthstone. At first, Y/N thought it was a necklace for a customer, and he's just holding it. But with the situation now, Y/N starts to get her hopes up that maybe, just maybe, Wriothesly likes her too.

"It has to be! Gosh, that necklace really was for you," Kaveh exclaims over the phone.

"You said it was too expensive to get for a friend," Y/N recalls.

"Mmm, what if he's planning to transition from friendship to romance?" Kaveh teases Y/N.

"Those who are transferring to Train 6 may now disembark at the next stop," the PA said over the radio.

"I've got to go now; I'll talk to you later, alright, Kaveh?" Y/N said and ends the call, exiting the train.

A Mustang pulls into the underground parking lot of Fontasia Company. Neuvilette steps out, and his secretary, Alhaitham, greets him at the elevator lobby as they walk towards the elevators.

"How was the inauguration?" Neuvilette asks.

"Everything went well," Alhaitham replies, following behind him.

"And the chairwoman," Neuvilette inquires, referencing his mom.

Before Alhaitham can answer, the elevator dings, and Furina angrily steps out.

"Oh! You crazy little..." Furina exclaims angrily.

As they walk to Alhaitham's office, Furina gives Neuvilette an earful, scolding him repeatedly.

"I TOLD YOU TO COME TO THE EVENT, AND YOU BLEW ME OFF," she says, smacking his shoulder.

"I TOLD YOU TO MEET ME AT HOME, AND YOU MEET ME AT WORK," she hits him again.

"Are you determined to go against me?" she questions.

"Of course not! I've simply been too busy," Neuvilette says, smirking as her hits feel like nothing to him.

"You just flew back in today! You can't take a single day off?!"

"Absolutely not. Too many things that need to be taken care of," Neuvilette explains.

Furina's phone buzzes, and she takes it out to see that it's Quintin.

"Oh great, why the hell does Monsieur Park keep calling me? It's annoying. Hmph," she says, ending the call. Neuvilette and Alhaitham exchange knowing glances as she is distracted.

She turns her attention back to Neuvilette. "Things to be taken care of. This is a well-oiled machine. You're just nitpicking! You think you're some kind of big shot now, don't you?"

"I am a big shot. At least now you know every project I've touched has been nothing but a success. Even that last conch madeline one—huge success overseas," Neuvilette boasts.

"I'm aware. That's actually why you've achieved a lot," Furina says proudly, but then she stops walking.

"I've prepared a very important project just for you now that you are ready for it," Furina says.

Intrigued, Neuvilette steps closer to his mother. "What kind of project?" he inquires.

"Uhmm," Furina hesitates but then, after glancing at Alhaitham, she looks back to Neuvilette and points at him.

"Marriage."

Neuvilette looks at her dubiously and raises an eyebrow. Alhaitham moves closer to Furina.

"Madame Furina, are you getting married?" he questions.

"NO, NOT ME!" she yells at Alhaitham, and the two look at Neuvilette.

"Nice offer, but I'm too young and busy to get married."

"You're not the one who is running out of time here. I just want to see my son with a wife. I don't think that's too much to ask for, is it?" Furina says as she and Alhaitham follow him into the office.

"Yes, it is. I'm not even seeing anyone, and I don't plan to anytime soon. Plus, there is too much stuff to be done here," Neuvilette says, taking off his trench coat.

"I know. That's why I've arranged all the blind dates for you," Furina says proudly. "What?" Neuvilette says, looking at his mother in shock.

"I've put together a list of single ladies and gentlemen—twenty elites. Now you just have to show up, enjoy the date, see which one makes a spark. Okay?"

"You made the list? Wow, couldn't have been easy," Alhaitham comments.

"That's right, it wasn't easy, but I had to do it myself; otherwise, the entire finance sector would have been buzzing with rumors. I'll tell you what—"

"Well, you've wasted your time. It's not happening. You keep wasting your time, though."

"Oh, you little brat! What am I gonna do with you?" Furina exclaims, but then her phone rings again.

"What in the world?" As she looks at her phone, she sees it was an alarm for her favorite show.

"Oh, looks like it's time already, huh?" she said as she hurries over to Neuvilette's couch to watch TV.

She talks to herself as she gets comfortable in Neuvilette's office. Neuvilette looks at what she's doing and says, "You can go home if you're just gonna watch TV."

"Hah, you never listen to me. Why would I bother listening to you?" she scoffs and starts watching her show while Neuvilette angrily works at his desk.

As Y/N walks up to Wrio's restaurant, she thinks about what Kaveh said to her.

"It's been a while since he's broken up with Caroline. Maybe he's finally noticed that you've had a crush on him and is ready to accept."

"As if. No way," she says to herself.

She enters the restaurant and notices that all the lights are off. She then sees Wrio by the kitchen window holding a cake, examining it without noticing her presence.

"Oh god, is he really gonna," she says to herself.

She can hear Kaveh teasing her, "What are you waiting for? Run to him and give him a hug already!"

With the encouraging words in her mind, Y/N smiles, calling out to Wriothesly and running up to him.

"Hey, Wrio!" she said.

Wriothesly's face looks shocked as he stops in his tracks while holding the cake. As Y/N approaches, she sees what's written on the cake that she assumed was for her.

'Copelius love Coppelia, Happy 100th day!'

As she sees what's written, she tries to stop her running only to bump into Wriothesly, making him drop the cake onto her, completely ruining it as she holds onto him to help her stop.

"Who the hell was that? God, this whole thing sucks," Ophelia groans as her cake is now ruined.

In the kitchen, she and Wriothesly clean themselves up.

"Jeez, I totally messed it up, didn't I?" Y/N said, worried that Wrio will get an earful from the customers as she ruined the cake.

"It's all right. It was a favor since they were regulars. I comped their meal, so it's cool," he said, reassuring her.

"Okay then," Y/N said in relief.

The alarm beeps in the kitchen, alerting Wrio that the dessert he was making was almost done.

"Anyway, I guess you're really busy. I'll get going," Y/N said as she gathers her things and made her way out of the kitchen.

"Wait a minute," Wrio said as he makes his way to a shelf that has his things on it and gets an envelope.

"Here you go. Happy birthday, Ha-Ri," he said as he gave her the envelope. She takes it from him as she leaves the restaurant to go ride a bus home.

As she waits for her bus, she opens the envelope. Inside were two tickets to 4nemo, the band she likes to listen to. Attached to it was a sticky note.

“You didn't think I’d forget, right?”

She recalls what Wrio said to her before she left.

“Concert tickets for that band you like. Now, those were really tough to get. Try to go with a date who isn't Kaveh,” he said, smiling at her.

“I love it,” she replied, smiling back. It wasn't the necklace as she and Kaveh were speculating. She was a little disappointed, but what can she do.

‘I guess you’re never gonna realize what it is that I really want.’

In the kitchen of Neuvillette’s house, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, and Furina are all in the kitchen. Neuvillette and Alhaitham are taste-testing new recipes of instant food from the Research and Development teams while Furina gives Neuvilette an earful.

“Good going. Instant food is the first thing you eat being back home after ages. You know how to cook everything from Fontaine to Snezhnaya. Wouldn't it be nice to get married to a woman or man, to sit down with them every day and enjoy a good home-cooked meal?” she said to Neuvillette, who is chewing on a piece of sweet madame.

“I’m not gonna get married, so I can sit down and eat,” he said after he swallowed his food.

“In Sumeru, I heard they have men and women that would make you crazy. Don't tell me you didn't at least have a fling there. Tell me I'm open-minded, you know,” she presses on him.

“Who even has time for that? I'm busy enough with work,” Neuvillette said as he examines the quality of the instant food.

“Yes, exactly, so you just work your way down the schedule I made for you!” Furina said, frustrated.

“I said I'm not gonna do it, okay?” he says, looking at his mom, annoyed by the constant pushing to get married.

Furina sighs as she looks away. She looks at Alhaitham and his son and gestures to both of them.

“Then let me see, are you two dating?” she looks at them in suspicion.

In shock, both men look at her with incredulous looks.

“WHAT!” they both said.

“Sure feels like it. You're always together, saying it's just for business,” Furina pointedly said.

“I don't know about President Neuvilette, but I most certainly am not,” Alhaitham said in a serious tone as Neuvillette makes a face at what he said.

“Even if I were…” Alhaitham glances at Neuvillette and tsks.

“President Neuvillette is just not my type,” he said.

“Really? That boy got nothing?” Furina said, giggling as Alhaitham nods, taking a bite of some madeleines.

“Hey, what do you mean? What's wrong with me?” Neuvillette looks at Alhaitham with a glare.

“Okay, fine. I get it; you're just friends. So then why are you so against going on these dates?” Furina cuts in so that the two don't fight.

Neuvillette sighs but wasn't able to reply because an alarm goes off on someone's phone. They all check, only for it to come from Furina signaling that she needs to take her medicines.

“Oh dang it,” Furina mumbles.

“Anyway, I can take care of myself; just stick to your dramas,” Neuvillette said as he assumes the alarm is for the drama shows she watches.

“It said it's time for meds! My blood pressure is off the charts because of you; I have to take those every day just for this thing,” Furina angrily shouts at him and pouts.

“How is that my fault? It runs in the family. If I get hypertension, that's technically your fault,” Neuvillette deadpans.

“Why, you little! --OH” Furina was about to scold Neuvillette when she felt her head hurt, so she goes to the living room to sit on the couch to rest.

taglist: nun yet wanna be part of it click here!

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #genshin kaveh #genshin neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #fontaine #wriothesley #genshin wriothesley #scart tbusinessproposal

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gingerbreadmonsters · 2 years

Text

return to me

or: learning, growing, walking hand in hand.

gn!reader, no content warnings except blake-typical creepiness, some yandere-flavoured obsessive goodness. in the emptiness of night, you’re all he sees. look. i had a lovely little idea for blake that was all ready to go - he was going to get a nice day out with his listener, i was going to humanise him, show that he's not all bad… and now look what he's done! well. this is what you get for crossing me. enjoy your grapes, mr blake. i hope they're sour. a big big thank you to my love @haradasaya for proofreading! 💕💕 limerence, inspired by R.E.M.’s nightswimming and fe3h: cindered shadows chapter 6. the moon is low tonight. blake being left in awe in just over 2400 words.

There are very few beautiful things in the world, anymore.

(Some, but not many.)

Beauty is, unfortunately, a vanishing art. Everywhere, all around, at every moment the world becomes more and more diseased, more and more dull. The earth turns to rot, the water turns to scum, and beauty is swallowed by oblivion.

It's simply a fact of the universe. Entropy. All things tend towards their own destruction.

You might argue, of course. You might say, of course not! There are plenty of beautiful things out there still - all kinds of places and creatures and objects. There's a whole universe full of things out there! And everyone has different ideas of what's beautiful anyway, so how can you even measure how many beautiful things there are in the world to begin with?

Well then, if you did say that, you would be met with disbelief, probably. A look, incredulous, that tells you don't be stupid, honey. Not all things are beautiful, and there are some things that aren't beautiful to anyone. I ought to know.

You see, there are some very special people who just understand the order of things. Who just feel it, the natural order of the world, the way things are supposed to be. A feeling that can't be taught, but cultivated - a feeling that Blake, himself, is learning at this very moment to know and comprehend.

And because he's one of these precious few, one of those fortunate enough to have been shown the truth, he knows. Humans have always been funny about extinction and the loss of things. Take and take and take until there's almost nothing left, then either praise its survival as a miracle, or grieve its final death as gone too soon. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how rare and precious beauty truly is these days. Something reserved only for the most unique, most particular, most wondrous of things.

There is an order in the world, he has learnt. All things that do exist must exist within the laws of the world that allows them to be, and those laws dictate exactly where they fall in that great hierarchy of being that natural existence requires. That is to say, in all the world, there can only be one thing that is the most beautiful. Only one thing that stands above the rest, a single prize that puts all else to shame.

Is it any wonder, then, that he holds you so dear?

It's true, I'm telling you, he would say, if you laughed. You'd probably laugh. Entirely uncaring, unaware of the gospel that he imparts to you, and yet so utterly charming in your blissful ignorance. Everything has its order, everything has its place. Not everything can be beautiful to everyone, and some things aren’t beautiful to anyone at all. Seriously.

You might stare at him, incredulous, disbelieving. Yeah, right. How can you say that? It’s impossible. Where do heads end and necks begin?

Very well, trickster god, he would say, taking your challenge head-on. The museum is quiet, nobody there but the two of you. Let me explain it a different way.

Take a map from the display stand, take a badge from the visitors’ information desk. Exhibition hall is up the steps straight in front of you, and don’t forget to exit through the gift shop. The explanation wouldn’t be very complicated. You’d have no trouble understanding if he helped you.

Let’s start at the beginning. The most basic. All things that exist must exist, right? The criteria for being 'a thing that exists' is 'it must exist'. And if it exists, then it must have properties of some sort. Physical or metaphysical, it must have some sort of properties that distinguish it from all of the other 'things that exist'. Otherwise, all 'things that exist' would by definition be identical, because they would have no defining qualities to separate them from each other, as 'existing' is their only quality. Does that make sense?

You’d nod. I… think so? Never took you for the existential type. The tourist map creases in your hand as he leads you across the main museum floor..

So, we now know that all things that exist have at least one property that defines them as separate to everything else that exists. All of them must possess a unique combination of properties that distinguishes them from every other thing, in order to exist as a single, discrete thing. Look around you. Everything you see, every individual thing, is different. Colour, shape, size, volume, weight, material, age, spatial location - no two things are the same. In the whole universe, there can be no two truly identical things.

You’d look a bit more unsure on that bit, but he’d power through. It’ll all make sense in a minute.

If no two things can be truly identical, then surely it stands to reason that all things can be categorised. Can be ordered. By some measure, by some means, all things can be sorted. No two things can draw with one another, there’s no need for tiebreakers - one by one, all things must stand in line. If you can differentiate all things, then you must be able to put them into distinct categories.

It makes sense, right?

Each thing can fit into several different categories at the same time, but my point still stands. If you can put them into categories and they’re still unique - as we already know they must be - then you must be able to categorise them again. Over and over, smaller and smaller boxes, until everything fits neatly into place. Until everything is in order.

Hmm. You probably wouldn’t look convinced. Not to worry, it’s not that important just yet. The first time is always the hardest.

Leaning over a display case, examining the contents, your breath might mist on the cool glass. But what about things you can’t see? Things you can’t touch? Things that not everybody experiences the same way? Like feelings, or colours, or sensations. Which colour is the best? Which rollercoaster is the most fun? You can’t put them all in order. There’s no empirical way to do so. Your theory falls apart.

Does it? Your point is fair, considering that you don’t know any of the metaphysics at play here yet. If you could feel those feelings forever, you’d be able to compare them. It’s true, you can’t capture the best moment of a rollercoaster in a bottle. But if you could, wouldn’t that let you sort them just like anything else?

You’d open your mouth to retort, but he’d beat you to it. He always does.

We don’t have the means to do that, of course. But theoretically, if it were possible to measure every moment of your life - and it is, we just don’t know how to do it yet - then you’d be able to break them down to their base components. And once you’ve done that? Well. The only thing left to do is order. The only thing left at all is order.

You’d shake your head. Gently, he’d hold your chin as he repositioned your audio guide from where it would be about to slip.

You always sound so cute when you think you’re right. But everyone feels things differently, and not everyone will feel the same about the same things. If you’re terrified of rollercoasters, you won’t call them fun at all, but if you love them then you’ll say they’re the most fun you’ve ever had. By your logic, all people will have different categorisations for different things, which necessarily means that there can be no single universally applicable categorisation for everything.

Oh, you’d look so proud of yourself, voice echoing in the corridor as he holds the door to the next gallery open for you. Checkmate.

You poor thing. If only, little trickster god. You put up a good fight, but alas - the metaphysical theory behind it disproves you.

But h-

We can talk about it later, dear. He’d pretend to examine the object label on the wall to your left, brushing off your misplaced concern - you don’t really need to hear him explain all that. Far too boring, far too dense and dull. A singular waste of time and effort, especially considering how precious little time he gets to spend with you as it is.

Marble and varnished wood and wrought iron. The museum is vast and full of fascinating things. Easily enough to fill an afternoon and then some. Take your time.

Walk with him.

Beauty, it is said, is in the eye of the beholder. Blake disagrees. Whoever said that had clearly never met you. It’s difficult to understand, and harder to accept, but the black-and-white of it is undeniable - surely someone has to be the one to know. Surely there must be someone who bears the precious burden of truth. Eight million people. Why shouldn’t it be him?

(Perhaps he’s biased. Forgive him. He is, after all, only human.)

Ugliness and filth and corruption. How is it that you stand above it all? So perfectly ordinary, yet more than he could ever hope to imagine. Circumstance tries to destroy you, time and time again - maybe you realise, maybe you don’t. It doesn’t matter. He knows, and as long as he’s here, you will always be protected. What’s the point of power if you can’t protect the things you love? You are beautiful, it's true - but weak, naïve, deprived of the knowledge of the world that you so desperately need, bereft of the guiding hand of truth. A flimsy, delicate creature. A precious, fragile soul. Nothing more than a butterfly, wandering blithely towards a hurricane. Blake has always been handy with a net.

(Nobody could deny it. Say what you will about Blake, but he's never been the type to take things for granted.)

It’s one thing, to have been shown the realisation of ruin. It’s another, to rally against it. Don’t you understand? He had to go away, to leave you lonely for a while, but it wasn’t his fault. He had to know the truth, and the truth is painful, the learning even more so. What man wouldn’t feel lonely, without you by his side? You’ve spoilt him with your presence, and in your absence a plan was made. Well, perhaps not made. Finalised. Solidified. Crystallised. The seed of the feeling has always been there, ever since you met - at last, it was time to water you, each tiny drop by his own careful hand.

The old Blake, that helpless, stupid creature - now remade in the dawning of the new day, baptised in the ocean of righteousness. The architect of his own future, and now yours too. Truth is truth is truth, and the audio guide in your ear speaks with his voice.

After all, who did you think made this place?

The victorious curator, hand in hand with his prize exhibit. Your frozen form, lovingly suspended in smooth resin, falling eternally but never hitting the ground. It’s all dedicated to you, it’s all for you, every shelf and hook and souvenir postcard. Would you call it greedy? Would you call it selfish? What is an archive, if not for the preservation of the collector? What is a museum, if not a prison cell of the past? Wall to wall, every facet of your being shimmers under the light. Every smile, every breath, every eyelash that you've ever wished on, kept forever in endless magnificence. If he’s selfish, so be it. His most glorious altar, and the god to which it is dedicated.

Turn up the volume of the audio guide, darling. Are you listening?

(It's funny, he guesses. He spends all this time waxing poetic about how all things are unique and special in the universe, in a world that doesn't even really exist. At least, not to anyone else. If it looks real, seems real, feels real - how are you meant to know the difference? Some people are just born lucky, and how fortunate, then, that he is the way he is. Puppets very rarely know the faces of their masters, and Blake has always been gentle with your strings.)

High ceilings catch the echo. This place, his greatest gift to the one he loves more than all else. Galleries go on forever and the cinema room plays an endless loop. People like to have weddings in museums, don't they? The sky outside is bright and white and nothing at all, and nighttime means nothing to a world that cannot end.

Look at you. Oh, just look at you. Encased in glass, resting gently on your wire skeleton, arm outstretched towards the skylight. Submerged in vinegar, no bubbles, leaning your head against the side of your big glass jar. Ice crystals glitter on your frozen tongue, marble fabric hangs immobile from your granite shoulder, familiar pairs of painted eyes gaze across the exhibition floor. You’re right behind him. You’re all around him. Every wall, every case, every frame - your lovely form fills them all. All things are equal on the altar of his adoration and he is your greatest disciple, raising the knife up in his hands and swearing on your name that he will bring you back to life. Watch over him, bless him, smile upon him. Just you wait. One last miracle.

Butterfly nets on every window. If you love it, never let it go. Here, you have always been perfectly preserved.

If only, if only, if only. The rest of the world would be so much simpler if that, too, were in his hands. The chosen one, with you eternally his first choice. As it is, he surveys his domain - marble stretches leisurely out in front of him, and a gilded ceiling hides the panicked wings tangled in the mesh, fluttering mournfully just outside his field of view. Sunsets come and go, the audio guide sings and sings, and the dust never settles.

Flesh and stone and the unending centuries of you. He kneels before you, kisses your hand, gazes into your eyes. The sound of church bells rings throughout the universe. Here, he doesn’t have to wonder. As ever, your devotee.

(It is said that the statue of a saint might speak to a believer. What are dreams for, if not the realisation of miracles?)

Tell me, honey. Your smile is as beautiful as ever. Do you think this is real?

Maybe, this time, you’ll reply.

masterlist

this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted blake #redacted angst #redacted closeknit #ginger writes #gingerbreadmonsters

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blehcupidd · 10 months

Text

Jealous Girl

Chapter Eleven part 1

Xavier Thorpe x fem!oc

A/n: Taken from my Wattpad made at the beginning of 2023, some written mistakes and i had a note about what happen with Percy Hanes White, that note will put put at the end of this chapter.

Also ignore mistakes please i wrote this whilst looking at the tv show so if it says that someone looks at something but it didnt state what, ignore it im sorry.

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

The indistinct chatter of students in the quad filled with excitement and demise as they waited for their jobs for the day. "All students will report for their volunteer jobs at 10 am sharp, followed by a community lunch at 1." Their principal spoke, silencing everyone. "As you know, this year Outreach Day culminates in a very special event, the dedication of a new memorial statue in the town square, which will also include performances by Nevermore students."

The giggling of Enid was heard by an Évangéline standing next to her. "As representatives of our school, I trust you will all put your best face forward." The sound of celebration was heard throughout the corridors.

Students started chattering again as the cards were handed out. Walking up to Wednesday Enid read hers, "Yes! I got Pilgrim World." She spoke with a smile looking at Wednesday. "I do have natural people skills and a love of performing so it's kind of the obvi choice."

"I got....Weathervane!" Évangéline exclaimed, she had always loved the smell of coffee and then in autumn was even better. "What did you get, Nes?"

"Uriah's Heap, whatever that is." She answered, keeping a small reserved smile at the sound of the nickname.

"Ew. It's this weird, creepy antique store." Enid said, obviously grossed out.

"You'll love it though." Évangéline assured.

"I'm crossing my claws Ajax and I will be outreaching together." Enid crossed her fingers. At the mention of her other best friend she walked towards him, hoping he saw her before she would get over; as Xavier was there.

Her prayers went answered as he jogged towards the shorter brunette. "What'd you get?" She asked.

"Uriah's Heap, you?" At the sound of Uriah's Heap Évangéline had an idea.

"Weathervane, but i need to go I need Enid!" She answered running off, missing the suprised/smug face Ajax had.

Running up to Enid she spoke quickly, "Enid, Enid, Enid!" She rushed. "You need to swap with Wednesday!"

"What! No way I'm not going into that freak show store." Enid crossed her arms. Rolling her eyes at her attempted to seem sassy it was time to head to the coach.

Walking off the bus, she noticed Xavier staring at what seems to be a blank mural. Walking off, she stepped in line with Ajax.

"Why did you look so excited when I told you I got Uriah's Heap?" He asked, seeing as she joined him.

"What? Oh, it was nothing." She replied, brushing him off.

"You excited to work at Weathervane?" He asked with a smile, as if he knew something.

"I mean yeah, why? What do you know?" She narrowed her eyes.

"What? Oh sorry can't hear you I'm sitting down!" He yelled as he walked away to his seat. Rolling her eyes with a smile, she too went to her seat.

"All right. Everyone take a seat." Their principal interrupted conversations. "We have a special announcement." This followed by a round of applause as they saw their mayor.

"Welcome, welcome, Nevermore Academy." Mayor Walker welcomed the outcast children. "Now, on behalf of the entire Jericho community, we are so, so pleased to have you all here today. Your generosity and hard work are truly...outreachous!" The mayor laughed at his own joke, before the stone faces of other students.

"Okay, everyone. We'll see you back here at one o'clock for lunch. Enjoy!" Their principal smiled.

Students standing up and walking towards their respective jobs. Évangéline saw Enid excitedly rush into Uriah's Heap; guessing Wednesday had told her Ajax was there.

She carried on her walk toward the coffee shop, she saw no one around so she thought she would be on her own this outreach day. With 10 minutes into the shift the bell sounded, alerting her of a customer. "Hello, welcome to Weathervane. How can I help you?" She asked not looking up from the espresso machine.

"I'm here for outreach day?" A familiar voice laughed. Looking up she saw someone she wouldn't expect, Xavier. This is what Ajax had gotten al giggly about earlier, she thought.

Noticing he was now behind the counter with her, Tyler came back. "So, uh, Évangéline you clean tables and, uh, Xavier you take orders. That sound good?" The awkward boy asked the Nevermore students. With a nod from both, the got to work.

Wiping down the tables hadn't been so bad. The better part was obviously working with Xavier. Through the shift he had been calling her his new nickname, Angel, and gave her butterflies each time. She always looked over and every time, without a doubt, he had been looking over. This brought her hope as he looked at her! Yet there was t much else to look at...

The ring of the bell sounded again, this time it was someone she barely spoke to; Marshall. Now knowing the fact that he likes her made her feel awkward. Did he not know she was head over heels for Xavier?

"Hey Angel."Marshal smirked at her, leaning on the table she was working on. Clearly uncomfortable at the nickname, from him, she awkwardly laughed.

"Um, I don't really like that name. But, uh, hi; I guess." She scratched her arm.

"My bad, my bad. How's outreach going?" He held his hands up.

"It's been going good. Me and Xavier are a good team." She gushed, missing the sigh from the vampire.

"I've got to go, sweet. I'll text you." He gave, yet another, icky nickname. Also, when did he get her number?

#addamsfamily #ajaxpetropolus #enidsinclair #fanfic #fanfiction #netflix #nevermore #thehyde #wednesday #wednesdayaddams #xavierthorpe #xavier thorpe x fem!oc #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x y/n

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chadwickbosemanfanfic · 2 years

Text

Please note that this is NOT to disrespect Chadwick Boseman in anyway. This is strictly fanfic. If you are concerned with fanfic after his passing, I totally understand and suggest that you do not read this post. Again, it is strictly fanfic.

THEIR SECRET (1/3)

Synopsis: So much can happen when the cameras are gone. Rihanna has known about an article where Chadwick Boseman mentioned her. When the two finally run into one another a year after the publication, they share a moment in time that becomes a secret they’ll never forget.

The Article

The Meeting

The cameras were watching. Paparazzi had no intentions of being discreet. They both knew it. He smiled anyway. When she continued walking, watching her step as she made her way to her driver waiting curbside, he figured she hadn’t noticed him. Then, when she slipped in the car and cut hooded eyes in his direction, he caught the glint in her expression. She smirked, darted her eyes in the direction of the Embassy before catching his eye again. They both knew there was a private lounge there for celebrities where spectators had difficulty breaching. He held her eyes a little longer to be sure. She offered a nod as she rolled up the window.

Chadwick slipped on his shades, pulled his hood further down and lowered his head, watching his step. He noted the paparazzi across the street. The shots taken. He moved quickly to get settled in his own car. Headed for the Embassy.

The Agreement

She entered the lounge after some time had passed. Crossed the room with her calves flexing and the sound of her heels magnifying her presence. When she came to him at the bar, he stood. She paused and her perfume kissed his senses. He wasn’t sure to wait to hug her or not as she fumbled with her purse. In stead, he pulled out a stool and waited for her as she slipped atop while thumbing at her phone and slipping it inside of the oversized Chanel bag. When she finally met his eyes, hers were full. The smile she offered was one reserved for those she admired. “You are just the person I’ve been hoping to bump into to chat a bit,” she adjusted, placing her purse on the hook under the bar.

“Hmm,” he smirked. He pulled his eyes from her and took a seat. She was always his celebrity crush and, without knowing, he was hers. “Glad I was in the right place at the right time,” he scanned her features. The change to her hair. The confidence in her stare. Though, there was an edgy angelic grace about her that blended with the fantasies in his mind. Right now, she primarily had an air of innocence. Though, his mind creeped to her music videos and to her wit when encountering paparazzi.

He cleared his throat to suppress any inappropriate thoughts.

“Theee Chadwick Boseman,” her accent carried his name.

“Robyn Rihanna Fenty,” his smile widened hers. “Whew,” he looked her over again as she did the same to him. While his presence was confident, his expression hinted at an air of nervousness. Or that he was possibly shy? “I’m trying to think straight,” he admitted, laughing.

Her laugh was a flirtatious giggle that was sure of itself. Not over-flattered or dainty but appreciative. He watched her movements. She adjusted in the stool, knees facing him. “Let’s start here,” she extended her hand. She was the only woman who could make him feel like he did now. Hyper aware of himself, overstimulated and feeling every part of his body that he could usually ignore while in public spaces or in front of cameras.

He slipped his hand in her extended one. She embrace it, squeezing and bringing their linked hands down to her knee. She held it there. His eyes glanced downward at their clasped hands as she began talking. Her palm was soft. His was firm and warm.

“The first time I saw you was in Law and Order,” she winked her right eye. “The grey eye was memorable and a bit sexy… in a creepy kind of way,”

He smirked. “Played one out of three Black people who have ever committed a crime and have gotten away with it,”

She laughed. “Two of three—I didn’t realize James Brown was abusive to his wife!” Her hand squeezed his.

He watched her closely. “Complex man,” he nodded. “One of the reasons I nearly pushed back against playing the role.”

Her hand finally released his, but her body shifted in the stool to face him completely as she leaned forward. “You were very, very convincing and appealing as Jackie,”

He chuckled. “One of my favorite experiences on set,”

“The actress—,”

“Nicole Beharie,” he spoke quickly.

Her eyebrow arched. “Amazing chemistry,” it was her turn to eye him carefully. She saw his eyes cut downward and to the left.

“I knew she’d be there. Just one of those things you can feel. We have history. Played in an early movie together,”

“The Express,”

He frowned, mostly surprised. “A lot of people aren’t familiar with my early work. Definitely didn’t think you would be,”

“I read your article as well,” she continued.

He looked unsure. Then, embarrassed. He laughed.

“The one you wrote about August Wilson was a nice read,”

This time, he was fully surprised. “You’ve done your homework,”

“Just really find you fascinating,”

He smiled, lowering his eyes and head slightly.

“So much so that it should be no surprise that I am also aware of the article where there was mention of me. You wanting to approach me during an interview,”

He laughed shyly.

She adored his gaze and felt her body respond to his humbleness. Her shoulders moved in a slight shimmy as she flagged down the bartender. He came quickly. “For the record, you should have been the lead in Unknown Persons,” her eyes cut at Chadwick. “It would have been such a better show,” she said firmly before meeting the gaze of the bartender. The bartender stood before them, hating that he had signed a non-disclosure contract and no-photos policy agreement prior to taking the job.

“This,” the bartender’s mannerisms were flamboyant and excited as he gestured between Rihanna and Chadwick. “You two are so sexy together,” he gasped. “Wait, are you two together?!”

“Daniel, take their order and stop being noisy and nosy,” a talking head popped in from the kitchen. “Our apologies to the both of you.”

They both shook their heads.

“No,”

“It’s fine,”

Chadwick cleared his throat. “May I,” when she nodded, he asked, “What are you in the mood for,”

“Two things. Let’s start with champagne,”

He ordered. She watched him. When the bartender went for the glasses and bottle, she waited until Chadwick’s eyes were back on her to say faintly so not to be heard, “I’m in room 357,”

He nodded.

“Meet me there.” It was not a question. She slipped off the stool and pulled her bag from the hook. He stood to meet her embrace. Her arms wrapped around his neck. His slipped around her waist. The stilettos gave her the height to mold into him perfectly. They felt each other exhale against the contact. “Spend a night with me,” now it was a question, whispered in his right ear before she pulled back.

“One night sounds impossible,” his eyes lowered on her as her face came into view.

“Then we can make it two. See you in five,” she didn’t wait for a reply. She smiled slightly, sashaying toward the private lounge exit.

The First Night

To be continued …

#chadwick boseman #chadwick #fanfic #rihanna #savage x fenty #fenty collection #fenty skin #fenty bronzer #black panther #marvel mcu #marvel #disney

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505-angel-company · 1 year

Text

THIS IS:

—《　therun。　》

he who hath persevered

❝ in patience , everything will unfold ❞

—• general information

aliases — “the gardener” , “that creepy librarian”

class — jedi knight (previously consular)

gender — male

pronouns — he/him, they/them, it/it’s

sexuality — asexual, aromantic

birthplace — utapau

species — pau’an

language(s) — basic, huttese

voice — sam witwer (similar to darth maul’s voice, but a little calm and friendlier)

—• physical information

height — 6’4”, 193cm

weight — 176lbs, 80kg

facial construct — chiseled, sharp jawline

body type — thin, lean

skin — grey, vertical line textures

eyes — yellow with hints of red

hair — none

scars — exposed skull with cracks, the rest of his scars are hidden under his cloak

markings — red upside down triangle under his right eye

❝ stop and listen — can you hear it?

the whispers of the force ❞

—• personality

general — normally, he is a quiet and reserved man that often does not have much to say. though he might come off as distant, he is still kind and will help those who need guidance.

with strangers — he tends to speak in short sentences, some might find him vague or cryptic; but he’s just shy.

with colleagues — he does his best to be cooperative and patient, he tries to be efficient but his methods often tend to resolve matters at the last minute.

with friends — he may be more talkative around friends than with others, engaging in small talk instead of being silent. but he is sure not to reveal his weaknesses.

with close friends — he is often aware of who he is able to trust, thus limiting his amount of close friends to only a handful. he knows that he can be vulnerable around them — even so, he can still be cryptic with his troubles.

with enemies — typically, he holds no grudges nor hate in his heart for it is the jedi way. however, he tries his best to avoid any contact with his enemies, and tries to keep any mentions or thoughts of such enemies away.

—•—

favorite thing(s) — knowledge, nature

hobby(ies) — indulges himself in reading and gardening

habits — daydreaming, being aloof, accidentally ignoring others

fears — he fears that one day the garden will burn

triggers — implications of bringing him into battle, especially with a sith assassin

❝ weapons do not make strength ❞

—•—

—• weapon(s)&equipment

name — the balance

description — a long pike-like weapon with a hard, wooden shell that had complex designs carved into it. within the shell was a complex mechanical skeleton that forged what would be a lightsaber; over the years it would be modified to be much longer. the tip of the pike had a vent that guided the energy of the kyber crystal to ignite into a blade that would be as long as one’s forearm.

aside from the pike, there would be a different vent that would guide the energy of the kyber crystal into forming a curved blade, transforming the pike into a scythe.

the color of the blade is said to be blue, but when ignited within the sacred garden, it looks to be pure white

name — the edge

description — similar to a wakizashi (a backup or auxiliary blade the samurai used), it is a lightsaber that was shorter than an average blade. decorated with smooth and elegant metal plating with mesmerizing patterns forged within the metal (damascus effect), and a comfortable, hand woven hilt grip.

like the balance, the color of the blade is said to be blue, but when ignited within the sacred garden, it looks to be pure white

—•—

—• attributes&skills

strength — 15/20, physical strength is not his forte, but he proves to be quite strong

dexterity — 14/20, though tall with a bit of a large stature, he can be nimble

wisdom — 18/20, while wise, there is still greater wisdom to be achieved

charisma — 9/20, while he has his own charm, it isn’t necessarily his intention. this is due to his mysterious exterior

intelligence — 18/20, he has spent a great deal of time studying, but perhaps there is still more to learn

constitution — 9/10, despite his skills, he can prove to be quite frail due to continued endurance of his wounds

—•—

computer use — 5/20, he knows the basics but that’s just it

demolitions — 2/20, he has no experience in demolitions

stealth — 10/20, he can do his best to be stealthy, but he often has no reason to do so

awareness — 17/20, through the force, he may be able to be aware of his surroundings better than the average person

persuade — 13/20, through his wisdom and what charisma he has, sometimes he may be able to persuade others

repair — 10/20, he has limited knowledge regarding technology, but is nevertheless able to make simple repairs

security — 8/20, has limited knowledge on cracking down security measures

treat injury — 18/20, specializes in healing through both the force and modern medicine, has significant knowledge in the field

—• abilities

combat form(s) — soresu(form iii), niman(form vi), tràkata, telekinetic lightsaber combat

force abilities —

• control — detoxify poison, force body, force heal, force stealth, hibernation trance, thought shield

• sense — force listening, precognition, force empathy, farsight, telepathy

• alter — animal friendship, cleanse mind, force persuasions, force confusion, force illusion, force cloak, tutaminis (force defend), force deflection, levitation, force flash, force jump, force light, force pull/push/throw, stun, malacia, protection bubble, revitalize

❝ you… and the force, too, have been the only family i’ve ever known ❞

—• relationships

friends —

• obi-wan — met during a meeting between jedi master qui-gon jinn and master rui rai’eth, they shared their interests in reading and different teas

family — <n/a>

mentor(s) —

• rui rai’eth — was mainly taught under rui rai’eth

• master yoda, qui-gon jinn — supplementary mentorship under these masters

apprentice —

• lae haxxar — due to rui rai’eth’s absence from the jedi temple, he would undertake the responsibility of training lae haxxar as an apprentice

enemies —

• fūjin — a sith assassin that ambushed him during a rescue mission

#star wars oc #star wars #jedi oc

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can-of-pringles · 1 year

Text

Lucky (the Arith and Iriel gift fic) as memes/my reactions

Hope you enjoy @practically-an-x-man

Practically-an-xman while writing the fic:

He loved making them blush like that, it was one of his favorite pastimes. Human women were so easy to fluster. Human men, too, though that took a bit more nuance to get right.

“I’m Arith, love.” he replied, watching as the blush deepened on the barista’s face.

Oh, sure, it didn’t mean anything. It never did. He’d reserved his heart for someone else, centuries before any other heart in this coffee shop had even begun to beat. But she was a lot harder to fluster like this. So he still played his games once in a while. It made life more fun.

Arith when all of his apples taste too sour:

Along with Greenwich, Stratford, Wembley, and inexplicably, about half of Cleveland, Ohio. He’d always hated Cleveland.

Arith trying to explain to Iriel why being lucky is bad

“No, of course not, I prefer to just wallow in my misery. Yes, I tried miracling it away!” Arith responded sharply, then winced when he caught Iriel’s expression, “Sorry, came out too harsh. Just annoyed. Yeah, I tried, but the damn thing’s immune to miracles.”

“But don’t scare away my neighbors. They’re nice people.”

“Scare them?” Arith asked, “What do you mean, scare them? Am I scary?”

“You’re not scary, you just…” Iriel trailed off, chewing her lip, “I feel like you give people the wrong vibe. Like when you do that smile.”

“What’s wrong with my smile?” he asked, wondering if he should be offended.

“Nothing’s wrong with your smile! You have a very nice smile!” Iriel blurted, lifting her hands in surrender, “It’s just… a little… creepy. At times. Not all the time.”

“You don’t like it?” he asked, tilting his head at her.

“I didn’t say that!” Iriel replied, even faster than before, “I think you have a very charming smile, it’s just that the humans… find it a little off, and I tried to tell them that you’re really a very nice guy-”

“Nice?” Arith protested, “I’m a demon, I’m not nice.” He elected to ignore the fact that she’d called him charming. It would only send him down a rabbithole that he wasn’t quite prepared for. Let alone while standing in her apartment.

“And I’m sorry, Bambi, but however good you think the world is, it’s not that good. Not even close.”

THE PET NAME?

Arith found himself watching her more than he was the screen. It seemed like the only thing more effective in brightening his mood than the movie itself. Especially now that the sun was setting, and the light streaming in through the windows seemed to cast her in gold.

Iriel glanced over at him with a soft smile. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but in the end she remained silent. In the setting sunlight, her golden eyes looked almost like miniature halos. Truly angelic. Arith had the brief yet bitter thought that he’d never be enough to deserve her, that she’d never see him in the same light as he saw her. But he looked at the softness in her expression there, truly allowed himself to take it in, and he realized that might not be true. He’d have to wait and see. After all, he’d waited this long.

He could fluster half the women on Earth with little more than a word, and yet when it came to her, she was the one to lock him up.

Iriel and Arith /j

#practically an xman #arith!goodomensoc #iriel!goodomensoc #good omens oc #pringles good omens ocs #good omens

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Note

Please vibe check me. You (the show)

I am you and you are me. You :

Ignore the red flags and focus on the minimalistic shit.

Stan people who will end up dying young because they are insane.

And uwuwuw killer maybe creepy cranky scrungle man?

It is obviously Forty. Joe's too whitebread plain and also insane. But Forty? Just right.

(You kind of are, and that's okay, hunty.)

You two definitely met when you just o happened to be driving through Los Angelos on one of your road trips. You jut so happen to stop at Anavirin to truly experience the hippy vegan lifestyle most Californians indulge in.

Forty is known for being... out there. The moment you entered, he saw it as another chance to flirt with an unsuspecting victim - and hopefully not scaring off a potential customer, which Love often chastises him for and Joe... is Joe about. However, he's pleasantly surprised with how okay you are with it. You aren't receptive, to say, but more so intrigued by the bizarre feller.

You end up buying something, but. more so, you end up developing a friendship. It's pretty stupid to invite a stranger into your life, but you have that 'fuck it, hot maniac' attitude. You two exchange numbers and just like that you're back on the road.

Forty isn't the type to be obsessed with someone at first, even if he definitely seems like it. He's just that type of guy. But, with time, the two of you become close internet friends and he opens up about even the most sacred secrets.

It's certainly terrifying to learn that inside Forty was a child murderer, amongst his many erratic personalities. But it's just a dude on the internet. How bad could it be?

Pretty bad, as a matter of fact. Forty has been influenced and controlled by Love his whole life, so naturally, he picked up some of her habits. One of them being, from the moment you two met, that he hired the family private investigator to look into you. That's how he became even more intrigued.

Forty quickly recognized, although maybe not as manic, that you were just as queer as him. From the medieval fashion hobby to your insane family background, he knew that you two would grow to be closer than online friends, whether you liked it or not.

Forty has his problems and insecurities. They ruled him and his decisions. That meant, despite the private investigator following you, he'd have to send you several texts an hour just to get that reassurance that you hadn't blocked him or something.

When it came to flirting, Forty had no problem making his feelings open. I know you tend to be reserved, but he's a charming guy. It's almost difficult to not succumb immediately to his unabashed confessions.

After a while, though, Forty won't get anywhere. As much as he adored texting you, he wanted more. And he was growing envious of Joe and Love's close and personal relationship, amongst other things. They were moving quickly, while Forty was left in the dirt to mope. There wasn't even any fun left to hooking up at parties.

So, he made an executive decision to "visit" the state you resided in. You two meet up in person, and he insists he's doing it for some inspiration for a script he's writing. Knowing Forty, hthat seems completely viable.

However, as days turn into weeks and weeks turn into a few months, it becomes obvious Forty doesn't plan on ending his vacation anytime soon. Beside that, your parents were becoming suspicious of him. There was something off. Of course there was. It was Forty we're talking about.

But Forty, despite his manic behavior, is awfully convincing. He's even worked up an entire script. The only thing weird is that he refuses to talk about it. Forty's a talkative guy, so something was definitely up.

By this point, he's snagged a nearby apartment that was fairly luxurious. The family visited sometimes for dinner, and it seemed safe enough for you to visit him whenever. So, you did just that. You want to his house when you know he was. making a day trip to visit his sister to see what the hell he was up to.

Turns out, there was a script. A script, more so, depicting a make shift romance between the two of you. But what was worse was that were files. And what was worse than private investigation files, photos that certainly seemed outlandish for a p.i. to take.

The dots were easy to connect. As flattering as it may be to have someone completely obsessed, you aren't stupid. You can either :

Return his feelings : It wasn't easy for you to confront him about this. But Forty is... an oddly convincing guy. Somehow, in the midst of you grilling him, he persuaded you total a chance. That his actions weren't abnormal at all. After all, all of your fictional crushes would do the same, wouldn't they?

A relationship would be rocky. You're all in now, and that means Forty will take you on a new rollercoaster every day. Some days, he's having a break down about how much his father hated him. On others, he'd be the most adoring man on the face of the planet. He may have been clingy before, but this was increased by tenfold. He'd never been loved and cherished, so to have some to accept him the way he was... he had no plans of letting it go. And how could you let it go if you never had the chance to have distance from him?

GTFO : You're smart, even when it comes to hot, madly dashing men who you just want to squish into oblivion with your affection. You leave, block his number, tell your parents, and the police are promptly called on him. Forty, of course, has his parents to get him out of the rut. And the restraining order is for not.

He'll buy unlimited phones just to try and reach you. He'll order gifts to your doorstep, even though you've moved and he shouldn't know where your doorstep is. He goes full pitiful stalker mode because he's convinced you didn't give him the chance to explain. He never did anything wrong. He was just checking up on you. And, restraining order or not, he'd continue to do that regardless. However, with his newfound heartbreak and emotional instability, his trysts might be cut short by an untimely discovery and death.

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two-am-outlines-only · 2 years

Text

Out of the House

Summary: Ever the paranormal enthusiast Remus is excited when he finds an abandoned house creepy enough to have ghosts in it with no chance of being caught trespassing. He quickly finds himself in over his head however when his fantasies come true, fighting to solve a mystery with the only possible outcome being losing someone he comes to love.

Chapter Warnings: Mild violence, swearing, ghosts

Ships: Background Lociet (Logan x Janus)

Word Count: 2871

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 - I’ll be Here by Day

“Do you mind?” Remus grinned as his platforms were slowly but surely nudged off the chair, Logan's nose scrunched in disgust as ze examined the dirt on zir pencil. “Highly unsanitary.”

“It’ll help your immune system.” Long fingers reached over to flick at the pages of whatever book Logan had had zir nose buried in for the better part of an hour. He snapped them back with a yelp however as his knuckles were rapped hard with the pointy end of the No. 2.

“That's if you eat it Remus, and such sentiments are usually reserved for children to placate parents when they can’t keep their spawn from shoving every little thing into their mouths-”

“Well if you wanted to lick my boots Logan you just had to ask.” Remus waggled tiks eyebrows suggestively, grinning wide as the other turned beat red.

“I AM NOT-”

“Logan, honey, volume. And Remus stop being gross we invited you here to study not air our desperation.” Janus’ quiet drawl diffused the situation immediately as both parties screwed their mouths to the side and looked away. Remus heard the librarian huff and stalk away with furious clicks of his heels, no doubt miffed at the missed chance to kick them out for the third time that week.

“Jannie Jan. J-anus. Jan-ass. Jan-assist me with this b-”

“Afternoon Remus. New piercing already?”

Nodding excitedly, Remus leaned over Logan’s books, ignoring the put upon sigh behind him and staring at the redhead with wide eyes. Janus smirked as he watched the other’s eyebrows jump up and down, the fluorescent bulbs of the library catching the two studs placed right at the end of the left brow that morning.

“Looks nice. I like the green.”

“Remus if you keep doing those yourself you’re going to get an infection. Please, I’ve told you so many times I know the tattoo artist down the street, I can get you discount piercings.”

Remus craned his neck nearly all the way around, a manic grin thrown over tiks shoulder as Logan stared at him in horror. “Awe you like meeeeee.”

Shooting Janus the “it’s your turn look” while being bumped repeatedly in the shoulder by Remus’ swaying hips Logan pressed zir mouth into a thin line as the return eyebrow raise of “you owe me for last time” was shot right back. Rolling zir eyes Logan shoved back with zir shoulder sending Remus right back in the chair. “You.” Logan hissed. “Are going to get us kicked out again. I quite enjoy this library, so take this and for the love of god stay relatively quiet!”

So saying a silicone sword on a string was pressed into Remus’ hands, who inspected the obnoxiously green object for a moment before shrugging and shoving it into his mouth. “Long and thick, I like it.”

The undignified snort Janus didn’t quite manage to cover followed by a shriek as his shins were kicked from under the table was enough to teleport the librarian over to them. Glaring down his nose at the two properly chastised of the group and the one currently grinning like an idiot he pointed aggressively towards the door in a way that dared them to argue.

“Out.”

“Yes ma’am.” Logan and Janus muttered as they collected their things. Remus jumped up with a salute that received an icy glare stern enough to freeze if Remus had actually been paying attention- as it was tik merely swung his pack up and over tiks shoulder nearly hitting the man in the process. A final self satisfied huff and a slammed door later found all three of them kicking pebbles on the sidewalk, put out and annoyed but certainly not surprised.

“Remus, I care for you a great deal but at the moment I would like to yeet you into the road.” Logan turned to Janus slightly. “Usage?”

Ignoring Remus’ giggling, Janus nodded. “It’s correct.”

“We could go to your flat?” Logan asked hopefully, wilting as Janus shook his head.

“Roommates are having their own study session and between Remus’...” Janus paused and watched as the other tried to snap a bug into his book, nearly snapping his nose as tik tripped in the process. “...Remus and my more distracting noises I don’t think we’d be welcome back just yet.”

“They could just wear headphones.” Logan muttered, clearly annoyed.

“Yes well, not everyone understands vocal stims and I don’t want to get into another argument with them about it. I rather enjoy my flat and if I could continue to live in it that would be lovely.”

“I know a place!” Remus jumped suddenly between them. “I found it last week looking for-”

“Remus we are not studying in a graveyard or a morgue or a house you think is haunted. I understand your love of ghosts but-”

“This one’s really nice I promise!” Remus interrupted, giving Logan puppy eyes that had zir rolling zir eyes yet again. “It’s in that weird in between of broken down enough that no one wants it but not enough that the government or whatever wants to step in yet...so I think technically no one owns it?”

“Is that how that works?” Janus turned to Logan curiously.

Logan opened zir mouth to argue, finger already in the “in fact it isn’t” position before pausing to consider. “I- I’d like to say no but I don’t know enough about property rights in this state to argue.”

“In this state?” Janus’ question was ignored in favor of Logan blocking Remus’ book from slamming into zir nose.

“It’s safe?” Janus asked instead.

“Yeah! Well-” Remus mumbled around tiks chewelry, tugging the book out of Logan’s grip and stuffing it uncaringly into tiks bag. “Just don’t go on the second floor I guess...stairs look a bit not great. But! It doesn’t have a basement so the first floor is safe! And most of the windows are broken so it doesn’t smell or anything.”

“....and we’re taking those as good points and moving on. Logan?”

Pinching the bridge of zir nose and pushing zir blue tinted hair out of zir face, Logan eyed the man currently bouncing up and down in excitement and nearly jostling the papers out of tiks open backpack. Smiling fondly ze shrugged. “If it's quiet I don’t see why-”

“Yes! Come on, I know a shortcut!”

Janus and Logan watched as Remus took off at a sprint, using the momentum to throw his pack over the fence and picking up half the papers that flew out of it before hopping it tikself. Scooping most of his things back up he continued running across the residentials backyards and turning out of sight around the far corner.

Holding his hand out Janus smiled wryly. “I know which house he’s talking about, it isn’t far. Sidewalk or yards?”

“The sidewalk is better- I can’t hold your hand trying to hop a fence.” So saying Logan slipped zir hand into the others’, but not before smugly observing his reddening cheeks.

“Sap.”

“No, a flirt?” Holding in his laughter, Janus tugged Logan along, walking faster than normal in the hopes that the wind would cool his face.

----- “Ta-da!” Remus twirled in the entryway, flinging his bag to the side of the hall as tik did. Sneezing in the resulting dust he quickly shuffled back further into the house. The space had probably been a living room before the previous owners moved, though as it stood now it seemed even the house had forgotten what it once was. Old, warped floorboards held only water damage as memories, groaning and giving slightly when anyone stepped on them. As it was they protested heavily as Remus uncaringly rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting for the others to actually step inside.

“You’re sure this is safe?” Logan cautioned as ze stepped gingerly around a pile of plaster that had long since crumbled off the wall by the door.

“Oh absolutely! Nothing’s fallen on me yet that wasn't already on the floor when I got here.” Tik paused as tik glanced towards the stairs- rickety, broken things that looked like blowing a fan in their direction would collapse them- and winced. “Just...don’t use the stairs. I put my foot through the first one by accident trying to explore the other day.”

“Of course you did.” Janus sniffed, looking them up and down before he stopped to squint at the top. It looked like they led to a hallway that turned a corner to the rest of the second floor, a small window letting in a meager amount of sunlight through the dirty glass. The hallway and resulting corner was shrouded in half shadow that made shapes dance around the edges and goosebumps race up and down his arms. Only half paying attention to whatever Remus and Logan were currently arguing about, he took a step closer to the staircase, back tensing even if he couldn’t make anything out that could be triggering such a response.

Squinting harder he tilted his head trying to get a better angle from his vantage point at the very bottom of the steps. The shadows seemed to shift every so slightly right at the turn of the wall that would lead into the hallway, making him blink and step back in surprise. Hackles raised in earnest now he frantically searched up and down the stairway and everywhere he could see of the upper landing but there was no more movement in any direction. The top of the steps however was brighter now, as if the dirty panes had only been a trick of dust in his eyes. Now it was simply slightly smeared glass- nevertheless letting sunlight through cheerily and letting it shine halfway down the steps- hardly a trace of shadow to be found in what he could have sworn was a dingy landing only moments before.

“Hey Jannie Jan you good? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“...Remus, you’re sure this house is empty? You never heard anything or saw any- I don’t know empty wrappers or anything?” Stepping fully away from the stairs Janus turned towards Remus and gripped the straps of his backpack tight enough to bruise his fingers.

“No, why? I mean- no one else is here. I’ve spent a few days exploring this place and hanging out, there’s just the first floor which is pretty clean other than well,” he gestured around at the wallpaper, plaster and dust littering the floor, along with the broken glass shoved carefully back underneath the windows. “And the second floor I already said I couldn’t get to and I doubt anyone else could even if they wanted to. I never heard anything other than what I think is a mouse or squirrel or something in the wall over there.”

“That doesn’t completely eradicate the possibility of squatters in the building but considering the state of the place I’d say it’s very unlikely.” Logan nodded at Remus before turning back to peer at Janus curiously. “I would assume that was what you were implying, Janus. Are you alright?”

Janus screwed his mouth to the side, considering just dropping the subject or lying to save face somewhat. Just as he was about to snark out something about watching too many of Remus’ cheesy ghost hunting shows, a wave of dread so solid it left him breathless slammed into him. Ice filled his veins and his legs tensed as every reflex in his body told him in no uncertain terms to run before it was too late.

“I want to leave.”

“What, why?” Remus quickly jogged over to where Janus was reaching for the door handle, Logan hot on his heels.

“I don’t want to get arrested for trespassing! And this place-” He turned around and glanced to the stairs again. “It doesn’t feel right. I’d rather brave my roommates.”

“Are you scared?” Remus asked incredulously.

“No!” Whirling around the other man locked eyes with Logan. “You agree with me right?”

Logan twisted h=zir fingers for a moment, not looking at either of them. “It does feel odd I suppose.”

“Then that’s that then! Stay in your creepy house if you want Remus, we’re leaving.” So saying Janus grabbed up Logan’s hand and bag, practically dragging zir out the door.

Remus stood inside the doorway for a moment before tiks shoulders slumped and tik turned back inside. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy to fix them getting kicked out of the library...again. The house was creepy sure but it had been abandoned for who knows how long and was falling in on itself, what had they expected?

Idly he kicked at a loose nail and sent it skittering across the floor towards the stairs. Tik hadn’t ever felt scared in this house- not even when his weight snapped the first step and he thought he’d be stuck in the house until tiks body rotted through the hole he’d made. A less favorable thought sure but not one tik wasn’t familiar enough with to hold it against the house. Huffing he flopped down against the far wall and drug tiks bag over to tik, fishing around for his phone so he could apologize to Janus and Logan and hope they weren’t too mad at tik...again.

He nearly dropped his phone when something bounced off the back of it, clattering to the floor between tiks feet. He leaned forward to see...a nail? Raising his eyebrow tik looked up to the stairs while flicking the nail towards them, searching for the one he had kicked but seeing nothing other than dust. The one tik flicked bounced off the bottom step and spun for a minute before stopping suddenly just a few inches away. Remus slowly lowered his phone and watched it curiously, the hairs on his arms standing in alarm but refusing to eat tikself actually be scared. It was a nail- an old rusty one at that- and the house was old with its windows smashed through. The air currents were probably playing around with-

There was a slight pain in his outer ear and tik flinched to the side to see what bug had bit him. Instead he saw a nail embedded into the wall, still quivering slightly with the force it had apparently been shot with. Swallowing nervously tik glanced back to the stairs searching frantically for the one he had seen not five seconds ago only to see nothing but dust once again.

“Okay.” He exhaled shakily and stood up, pocketing his phone and grabbing up tiks bag. “Yeah, okay. So- ghost right? Listen, I love being nailed as much as the next person but-”

He was cut off with small, unassuming jingling sounds, almost sounding like hail hitting the outside of a window. The sun was still shining brightly however, despite the rapidly declining temperature inside and he began to look around in earnest to make out what the sound was. Tik had always told himself that if tik ever had an experience like this he’d be sure to catch it in camera- and none of the shaky handed blurry footage shit everyone else tried to pass off thank you very much Logan- but at the moment his phone was forgotten in a white-knuckled grip. He watched as bits of glass slid over the worn floors with enough force to gouge the wood, jingling merrily on their way to a rapidly darkening staircase with shadows dripping like black mold from the second floor above.

Tik could do nothing but stand frozen even as every instinct and shred of common sense he had ever had screamed at tik to turn and run while he still could. The glass whirled around a shape in the middle of the stairs, a ball of shadow descending step by step that seemed to stare through him though tik couldn’t see any indication the thing had eyes. His vision tunneled and distantly he was aware tiks breathing had picked up- mildly concerning considering the microscopic pieces of glass ripping through the air- everything narrowing down to this one moment. This one entity that without a shred of doubt in Remus’ mind he knew wanted him dead.

“G̸̮̗̘͔͔̖̕E̴̛͚̣͖͇̗͙̺̭̔̈́̂̈́̔̕͠͝͝T̵̨̜̹̲̬̦͕͇͒̓͒̀͑ ̵͕͖̳̱͎͕̝̥̐̉͗̃Ǒ̵̡͎̥̣̳̙̜̜͓̠̲͍̿̐͐̎̓̽̊͘͘͜͝͠Ṷ̶̢̟̠͙̯̱̝̠̹̪͚̠̽̇̄́͌̔̀̌͠͝T̸͎͐̆̐!̵͉́̅̋̑͑̈̈́̄!̷̰̈́̑̾͌̊”

The force of the distorted voice rattled the walls and sent plaster raining down onto Remus, who finally felt his legs twitch just as tik felt the first pinpricks of glass against his face. Wasting not a second more he turned on tiks heel and tripped tiks way through the entry hall and out the door, hearing it slam shut behind him as he hopped the fence and took off down the road faster than tik had ever run in his life. Shocked gasps rushed past his lips as tik just kept pumping his legs and let tikself be led on autopilot all the way to his apartment, bursting through the door and slamming it behind him. Heavy breaths filled the short hall and he slumped to the floor, mildly surprised when his phone thunked to the floor in front of tik.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, tiks head thumping heavily into the door behind him.

“Holy fucking shit.”

#oren writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #remus sanders #sanders sides remus #janus sanders #sanders sides janus #deceit sanders #sanders sides deceit #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #logan x deceit #logan x janus #ghost au #sanders sides ghost au

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undead-supernova · 2 years

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"We Could Call It Even"

Part 2 to the series, here's Part 1 & Part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!reader

Description: Time to deflect with a good helping of garlic bread.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: It's sooooo angsty, bestie. This whole fic is. There's also a brief mention of sexual assault.

Part 2: I've Been Lost, I've Been Found

Eddie couldn’t believe you were here, your car lugging behind him as you followed him to his house. It was as if you were frozen in time, and yet everything had changed. There was a softness that had faded, something that wasn’t just due to age. No, you were inside of a chrysalis made of steel, stiffening over time. It was an exquisite kind of armor, he had to admit. It was the reason he asked you if you wanted to spend time with him, really.

He'd watched you in the cafeteria, always listening to him but rarely saying a word. There were a couple of times where he almost asked you to join Hellfire, but he found it rather…complicated. Eddie knew that if you had joined, he would’ve grown feelings for you. He would’ve been unable to focus on his campaign, his friends. His mind would be unsettled, and you’d consume his every waking moment. But he wanted to escape Hawkins. He couldn’t fall for a girl. He just couldn’t.

Even if he still thought of you.

After Chrissy passed and he was on the run, he thought of you.

As he actively helped defeat Vecna, he thought of you.

After the earth split in four, he thought of you.

As his name was cleared, he thought of you.

And when he saw you on the football field for class in the sizzling embers of summer, he felt relieved to know that you were okay. He didn’t approach you, but he was content knowing that you would graduate and move on. This town was cursed. You shouldn’t have to be swallowed.

Eddie felt barren today, his skin exposed. His toned arms were visible along with all his various tattoos. There were twice as many now as there were back then. He found the needle was a perfect escape from the psychological pain of what he experienced with his friends. Since that time, he’d become more reserved in some ways. Some days he ignored Dustin on the walkie-talkie, the very definition of radio silence, and pretended not to be home when Dustin would ultimately show up to his house. Gareth and Jeff left messages on the receiver, hoping to lure Eddie out to the movies or to do a one-shot to pass the time. Eddie pretended to be content without his silly little fantasy game, convincing himself that it wasn’t grown up. He had to work now. He had no time for these things.

But he still missed it every day.

He missed his friends.

He missed the days when he didn’t pretend.

He missed himself.

When you parked, you watched Eddie stride over and open your car door for you. Thanking him, you climbed out and locked the doors absentmindedly, all the while surveying the outside of his home. The paint job seemed to be done fairly recently, but mud and weeds still littered the perimeter of the beige house. You couldn’t really see Eddie learning how to use a lawnmower, so it made sense. There was something old about it and yet, it still looked like it should have a new house smell. It was out of the way, still clinging onto a semblance of new. The house itself looked depressed like it had nowhere to place itself amongst the other trailer homes with outdoor decorations and clean lawns.

“We upgraded to a slightly bigger castle after the ‘quake,” Eddie said, guiding you to the door with a light touch to the back. He made sure not to make full contact, knowing how creepy it might come off. In reality, he didn’t know what would happen to him if he did touch you. “It’s honestly funny how nice things can get after a, uh,” Eddie wavered, struggling to find the right way to lie, “natural disaster, y’know?”

“Funny is an interesting word,” you said as you walked in.

Eddie threw his keys across the room, landing on the counter. “I think it’s a funny word,” he responded with a smirk.

You snorted. “Oh, you think that was clever. I bet you’re really proud of yourself for that one.”

“Actually, I am.”

You shook your head. “I forgot you don’t know how to accept when you’re wrong.”

Eddie grinned, his mouth aching. It had been so long since something made him smile this wide. “You’ve got fire in your veins now. Metal.”

You giggled, removing your jacket. “Yeah, well. I grew up a bit.” The smile you were wearing faded quickly as recent memories passed by your mind.

Eddie noticed immediately, his eyebrow quirking up. “Do you mean something else by that?” he asked.

There were some things you weren’t able to explain, like the loneliness that came when home was a cinderblock dorm and how each severed friendship became a nightly haunt. Life moved so quickly at college. Blink and you’d lose two friends but gain three. Open your mouth and find that you couldn’t breathe but you certainly did not say yes. Close your eyes and feel the days and night starting to blur until you’re suddenly on your way home to a town that was changing with you. Life didn’t stop just because you wanted it to. Eddie was a testament to that.

“Want me to see if I can make anything edible?” you deflected, ignoring his question with one of your own.

“Be my guest, chef.” Eddie shrugged, pretending to drop it. He was too curious for his own good, but he knew a boundary when he saw one. Hell, he was the king of boundaries.

You began opening cabinets, silently surveying what was available. Peanut butter, saltine crackers, some chips, and some cereal. You spotted a loaf of bread on top of the fridge. Perfect.

Eddie watched you rummage around. “So, what’s life like outside of Hawkins?”

“Well, there’s a lot less dead classmates, I’ll tell you that.” You paused, opening the refrigerator. As you spotted the butter, you realized an easy classic. “Do you have any garlic?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” Eddie repeated, scrambling towards the kitchen to help you. “Here,” he whispered as he handed it to you. For the briefest of moments, your fingers touched. It shouldn’t have been as big of a deal to Eddie as it was. But it was. There were plenty of moments in high school when he’d thought about touching you. Not in a weird way, but just casually. Just to be close to you. Just so he could get a glimpse at what it would be like to be close. He’d never allowed it, of course. He had made his mind up.

So why was he still entranced by you two years later?

Your fingers drummed across the counter as you rummaged through drawers for spices. There weren’t many, but you took what you could get. “Has anyone come back?” you asked as you messily spread butter over the toast.

Eddie tried to think of anything but came up short. “Considering I rarely see anyone anymore; I couldn’t tell you. Wheeler and Harrington finally got back together, but that’s about it.”

“And Hellfire?” you asked.

“Still intact somehow. Henderson and Little Wheeler have kept it going despite the world ending.” Eddie smiled, but it quickly shifted. I should really reach out, he thought to himself. God, I’m such an asshole.

“They sound persistent,” you murmured as you peeled and began mincing the garlic. You’d always had a slight distaste for the boys. There was a distinct memory you held of watching Dustin and Mike with stars in their eyes. It was only there when they looked at Eddie as if he was more than just a friend or a game master. The labels and the bullying didn’t matter to them. No, they were merely happy to be there, to be a part of whatever Eddie had given them. You were envious. It was all you had wanted, and he never gave you the chance that he gave those freshmen. It was odd how jealousy could tinge perceptions of other people.

Looking back on it now, you realized how wrong you were about the two. You just didn’t want anyone else to see Eddie the way you did.

“So, why do you hate coming back? Skeletons in your closet or just a classic case of the Hawkins 'Ghost Town' Blues?” Eddie asked, trying to sound casual but genuinely wanting to know.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, flashbacks already beginning to sting around the edges. “Oh, that’s a conversation for after you put a cig in my mouth and light it, Munson,” you sighed before turning back, “or do you not smoke inside anymore?”

Eddie smiled at you, reaching into his sweatpants’ pocket, and taking out his pack of Camels. His steps were small, trying his hardest to be as careful as possible. With you, he knew there was something lurking in your past that you’d rather not say. He didn’t mind that as he had quite a few secrets up his nonexistent sleeves.

“Old habits die hard,” he tried to joke as he slipped one into his mouth. He placed a cigarette between your lips, never taking his eyes off yours as he went to light both of your cigarettes at the same time. Now that he was really able to see you, able to transport back to chemical-doused cafeteria tables and vacant hallways in the late afternoon, he could try harder to find you. Some people can escape their pasts, he could admit that. He wasn’t a total pessimist. But he knew you hadn’t come close. Steel couldn’t just appear. Someone had to weld it together. Someone had to seal it with a scorching kiss.

You took a long drag, holding his eye contact as you directed the smoke elsewhere. “Thanks, Eddie.” He simply nodded as he turned to sit on the small couch. He watched as you stuck the garlic bread in his tiny toaster oven that was on its last leg. You decided to avoid the recent haunts. At least your home life hadn’t been as awful as what you’d gone through since leaving this hellhole. “It’s the same sob story as everyone else, I’m sure. Angel mother, piece of shit father. I couldn’t get her to leave him and with the earthquake…well, she needs his income more than she needs him. It’s not as bad as it was but I’d rather not come home just to sit and listen to them talk about everyone who died.”

“Still?”

“It’s the only interesting thing that’s happened to them in years.” You laughed bitterly to yourself. Some things would never change, and her parents were one of them. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

You turned to face him, letting out another string of smoke from your nose. The tobacco seemed to clear your head, allowing your observations to intensify in clarity. His eyes were elsewhere, indicating to you that he was wary of any kind of answer. But courage began to blossom. Once you’d gone to college and realized that silence didn’t get you very far, you knew you had to open your mouth. You knew that if you never spoke up, you’d regret it for the rest of your life. Even if you never saw Eddie again after today.

“You’re different,” you said. “You’re not as…you as you were back then.”

This made Eddie laugh. It was the kind of laugh that held pain behind it, the kind that both loved and hated that he’d been caught. At least someone noticed. “Well, you know, some shit can do that. Try escaping the scariest shit you’ve ever seen and then get to graduate out of pity. You know it wasn’t ‘cause of Mrs. Kelly. Had a D for two years. Then as soon as you decide to pack up and leave, your uncle tells you he can’t live on his own without you. Some punchline, right?” You didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t have to. “People still look at me differently. It’s like I caused all of this when I didn’t. I just didn’t.” Sighing, Eddie turned on his side, curling into himself. “Set the freak free only to put him back inside a cage. All over a fucking game.”

Without realizing it, you started to move forward. His demeanor was drastically different from a moment ago, like watching an idle cat sprint off into the other room. You kneeled in front of him, slowly raising a hand to cover his. There was no real thought put into the act. It was as if the years of careful distance meant nothing anymore. There was always some kind of connection between the two of you, still undeniable now. The words weren’t uttered; the feelings weren’t communicated. But you knew. And so did he.

Eddie’s eyes met yours, tears threatening to spill over. Physical contact had been hard after the fight with Vecna. He could’ve died, and yet he was still breathing. Though, it always felt like it did when he was in the Upside Down: cold, lifeless. It was as if he were a corpse left to clean up his own ashes. Yet, your touch was a flicker. There was a warmth that reminded him of that tiny glimpse of wonder he received when he saw the glitter surrounding those kitchen lights.

“Eddie,” you said. “This world is so much bigger than you think. Even your world. There’s a DnD club on my campus. There are people doing it live-action at the parks. Hell, there are local bands playing every weekend, some of which are metal.”

You thought of him every time you went to those shows or those parks or even walked past the spare rooms used for clubs. There would be a tight slide of a finger up the neck of a guitar, the crack of dice as it hit the table. Every time, it was him that entered your mind. But you’d never admit that out loud. No one knew who Eddie was anyways, so it didn’t matter. It couldn’t have mattered. He was just some guy with some special interests from high school that was nice to you a few times.

It didn’t matter.

It couldn’t have mattered.

And yet it did.

“Those things don’t define you, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re wanted. Those people just haven’t met you yet. But they’re there. You even have your cute little friends.”

At that, Eddie smiled a little, thinking of Gareth, Jeff, and Dustin. He was still on the fence about Mike being as cool as his older sister. It was a classic debate when he was alone, but he had to digress before his mind sent him spiraling. Though nothing could keep his thoughts from swirling around the moment he decided to cut you out of his life before he even beckoned you in. It was stupid of him to do that, he realized that now. You would’ve been the best adventure he’d been on yet. But he selfishly took that possibility away. He saw that now.

“Is it weird that a small part of me wants you to take me with you when you leave?” Eddie asked. His thoughts were beginning to scare him as he realized he couldn’t keep anything hidden anymore. “I always thought you were cool.”

You let out a laugh, disbelief coloring your mind. Eddie was just being nice. There was no way he could’ve known anything about you other than deep breaths and awkward laughs.

“You didn’t even really talk to me.”

Eddie shook his head. “I didn’t have to. I saw you. You were brave for bringing books into the cafeteria, that’s for sure. You could’ve had that ripped out of your hands in a heartbeat. You wore these little hair clips, right? Orange and pink and blue and stuff. Now, you see, you didn’t just wear that. No, you also wore leather jackets and goth shit, but you still had little elements of—Well, for lack of a better term, cuteness.” He watched as color flooded your cheeks. “And I had the biggest crush on you. But I’m sure you probably knew that.”

Startled, you moved away from him. You tripped on the back of your heel, sending your crouching figure tumbling onto the ground. At that moment, you realized three things.

One, your faces had been incredibly close. Almost too close. Like, kissing close. You swore you’d felt his breath fan over your face. It wasn’t like it was anything special, but it was his. He could’ve closed the distance and you wouldn’t have protested.

Two, Eddie had called you cute. Sometimes you’d thought that Eddie hadn’t found you attractive when you wore softer colors. But you didn’t think he noticed when you wore your darker clothing either. You just wore what you wanted to and hoped that no matter what, he would glance at you.

Three, the boy you had been crushing on in high school was into you the entire time. Without your knowledge.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You didn’t know? I was way too obvious.”

You shook your head, frustration settling in. You could’ve said something to him had you known. If he had just said anything, your life could’ve been completely different. As you stood up, you threw your hands in the air. “You didn’t even look at me most of the time. You rarely spoke to me, and you didn’t even try to be my friend! Of course, I didn’t know!”

Eddie’s eyes widened, stunned at how loud you’d gotten. He sat up slowly, guilt beginning to settle in—but not before a revelation startled him.

“Holy shit, you liked me back,” he stated.

“What?”

A grin formed on his face again, that flickering of the lighter beginning to catch flame. “You totally liked me back. Oh, it makes perfect sense now.”

“How would you even deduce that?”

“Easy. How would you have known that I didn’t look at you?” You stayed silent. “You were looking at me, waiting for me to look back, weren’t you?”

Bashfully, you whispered, “Every day.” Without any other words, you grabbed the garlic bread out of the toaster oven and brought it over to his lap. You sat next to him, grabbing the piece of toast.

“We’re idiots,” Eddie said, mainly to himself. It was too hard to think about, the knowledge that there could’ve been something. Anything. And there you went, into some abyss filled with essays and parties. You had to be someone’s girl now, he just knew it. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, to send that thought into the universe. If you knew that he was still into you, it would be considered weird. And obsessive. And creepy. There was no way you’d ever find out. He would make sure of it.

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually. “Just kids, I suppose.” Deflect, deflect, you thought. “Now, tell me, what do those tattoos mean? I’ve been wondering for ages.”

He smirked. “So, you were looking.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you answered, hiding your smile with a bite of your piece of toast.

Eddie hid another smile, realizing you were getting quiet the more he called your bluff. He’d save it for another time if there was one. “Fine, fine.” His hands went up. “Where to start…”

For the next few hours, the two of you skirted around the admission of feelings by catching up. It was like there was nothing outside of this trailer, as if you had managed to stop time. The muggy gray of the sky seemed insignificant compared to the little pieces of Eddie’s puzzle you were finally learning. You never wanted it to end, these missing chapters of the book you were starting to construct for him. You couldn’t get enough of him, and he couldn’t get enough of you, soaking in your life like a wave of comfort. For the first time in over two years, he was connecting with someone. Someone real, someone radiating with the golden beams he thought were gone.

When you finally remembered your parents and the roads growing icier as the night continued to fall over the town, you stood up. “I wish I could stay, but I have to go back to my parents.”

“Bummer,” he whispered, standing as well. Shaking the crumbs from his shirt, he wondered if he’d ever see you again. You were here for the next month and a half—was there any way he could convince you to come back?

Your mind was on the same wavelength, wondering if you could find a way to keep him around. You’d only just begun to get to know him as he was then and as he was now. His light was starting to return, slowly but surely. Some part of you wanted to make it shine again, dusting the jagged sunlight over the two of you.

You put your coat on in silence, debating what you could entice him with.

Eddie felt just the same, his mind stuck on long walks in the woods or a trip to the movies. Casually, of course. Platonic, definitely.

Definitely.

As you reached your car, you turned to him. Mustering the confidence, you said, “Call in sick tomorrow. Let’s go on an adventure.”

A smile reached his lips as his wishes were granted. “You better make it worth my while.”

You gave him a smirk. “I’ll do my best, Eddie.” Shutting the door, you gave him a wave through the glass.

Driving away was much harder than you had anticipated. It was as if something was missing, lost to the winter chill. Eddie had given you closure to something you didn’t know you needed. It was like there had been a chapter missing from that book you wrote of him, and you were just now discovering its contents.

Eddie watched you drive away, staring after your car even when it was out of sight. After he went back inside, he immediately called the record store to fake some kind of food poisoning. He didn’t even care that it sounded fake. He just knew that he had to spend time with you. You were still such a mystery, even if you had spent the day with him. You were his first afterglow following the torment of Vecna. And that had to mean something.

#Eddie Munson/reader #Eddie Munson/you #Eddie Munson #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #Stranger Things #Stranger Things 4 #st4 #stranger things season four #this was sooooo much longer than I intended #I hope people enjoy it though #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson

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