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nancys4gf · 2 years

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back to the old house | jonathan byers | part two

summary: you and jonathan had been best friends for years. he wishes you could be more. he'll never tell you. part one

pairing: jonathan byers x non gender specific reader (they/them pronouns)

warnings: none

note: here's part two since i loved this concept and scenario :D i hope you like it!! feel free to send in more requests, they are very welcome <3

̟ ̇.˚︵‿୨♡୧‿︵˚.✩

eleven and will were practically shaking with excitement as they waited for mike to burst through the gate’s doors. jonathan and argyle looked around the airport, lost in their own worlds.

suddenly, eleven jumped from her seat, shouting mike’s name.

in a second, the three friends were hugging and exchanging gifts. but to jonathan, it was all a blur. mike’s rambling about flowers ricocheted against the wall, and eleven’s plans for the day dissolved in the air.

all he could see was you, standing a few feet away from him with that beautiful, breathtaking smile on your face.

he didn’t even realize he was running to you, being too distracted wondering if you were really there or if he was imagining things.

moving to california had certainly been an adjustment. but jonathan hadn’t realized just how truly empty he had felt until he had you in his arms, filling that empty space that seemed to be the exact shape of your body. and when you hugged him back with all your strength, he couldn’t believe he had ever been able to leave you.

“what are you doing here?” he asked breathlessly.

“i’m surprising you, obviously.”

“is this why you were being so weird over the phone these last few days? oh god, is this why you asked how warm it is in california?”

“guilty,” you giggled, and pulled away from the hug, touching the long locks of jonathan’s hair with an amused expression on your face. “what have you done to your hair?”

“nothing, that’s what he’s done.” will remarked, appearing behind his brother, a glowing grin on his face.

you immediately jumped into his arms, expecting will to wrap his arms around your shoulders and you around his waist, as you always used to do. but this time the hug felt different and foreign, because for the first time, he was towering over you.

“my god, will,” you chuckled against his shoulder, holding back tears. “you’ve got to stop growing.”

“i keep trying, but it’s no use.” he joked, but by the way his voice quivered, you knew he was feeling the exact same things as you were.

suddenly, someone else was pulling you in for a hug. someone with long hair and kind eyes. kind, red eyes that were completely out of it.

“come here, brochacho!”

you gave jonathan a confused look over the strange boy’s shoulder.

“that’s argyle.”

“oh, your new best friend?”

“exactly.” argyle stated, at the same time jonathan exclaimed,

“no!”

“i’ve heard a lot about you,” argyle said as he let go of you, jonathan immediately resuming his place by your side, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“all good things, i hope.”

“oh, definitely good things.”

“here, let me help you with your bags,” will offered, motioning to grab the backpack from you. but you stepped back, shaking your head.

“no, i’m not letting my baby work.” you ruffled his head, and threw your bag at jonathan instead, who caught it with a groan. “alright, move it.”

after greeting eleven, her and mike started walking ahead of you, talking about all the things they would do. walking behind them, you interlocked your arm with will’s.

“now, tell me all about california.”

— ❀ —

after dinner, you and jonathan got busy settling your things in his room. he had emptied out a drawer for you, and had also made some space in the closet. you worked in silence, enjoying each other’s presence. every now and then, you’d find him staring at you, and you’d both smile. there weren’t enough words in any language to express how happy you both felt.

when you got out of the bathroom after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, you found him setting a mattress on the floor.

“uh, no.” you stated determinedly, jonathan furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “i came all the way here. we’re cuddling.” you affirmed.

jonathan let out a chuckle, and maybe it was the faint lighting in the room, but you thought you saw his cheeks redden.

“okay.”

after getting under the covers, you and jonathan stared at the ceiling, sharing the silence that comes when two people understand each other, even without words.

“are we going to talk about how your room smells like pot?”

“no.” he laughed.

“alright.”

jonathan turned, lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, his head in his hand.

“so, what have you been up to?”

“we talk everyday on the phone, jon. you know what i’ve been up to.”

“tell me again.”

you rolled your eyes. “school, thinking about college, planning for college, breaking down over college, saving up for college, hanging out with the kids and nancy and robin and steve, and oh, did i mention college?”

jonathan laughed, never taking his eyes off you as you talked, enjoying his favorite sight.

“did i tell you my mom bought a ridiculous amount of nyu merchandise? it’s gonna be funny if i don’t get in.”

“you’ll get in.” he said convincingly. you grimaced.

“you’re still waiting for the letter?”

“mhm.”

you noticed the way he brushed the topic off and averted his gaze. you always noticed everything about jonathan. like the dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hands kept shaking when he held up his fork at dinner. but you decided not to push him. not on your first night here, at least.

“i know you guys are better and safer here,” you spoke softly, also lying on your side and looking up at him. “but sometimes all i want is you there with me. even if it’s a bit selfish.”

“i’m definitely not better here. and it doesn’t exactly feel safer, besides,” he moved his hand close to your face, almost brushing your cheek, but he hesitated and settled for grazing the bare skin on your shoulder. “you’re not here.”

you wanted to tell him that it was okay for him to touch you. that you wanted to lean in against his hand, hold every part of him and never let go. but the time you had shared apart seemed to have built an invisible wall between you two. not because you had grown apart, but because after being away from each other, you didn’t know what to do with this overwhelming closeness.

“i missed you.” you whispered into the night. and like all confessions, you almost wished it vanished into the air.

“i missed you too. so much.”

“you’ve got to promise,” your voice broke, and you shut your eyes so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes. “that we’ll have a movie night every single night. you, me, and will. just like old times.”

“i promise.” he reached out for your hand, interlocking your fingers and drawing invisible circles on your knuckles.

jonathan couldn’t believe you were actually there with him, so close he could smell your shampoo and feel your hair against his skin. he had yearned for this for so long that he kept pinching himself, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining all of this.

the sound of your voice breaking through the silence was further proof that he wasn’t dreaming, even if he thought it was. this was reality, and it was so much better.

“if the world was ending tomorrow, what’s one thing you’d want to do?”

“anything?”

“yeah, eat your weight in candy, jump off a plane, stuff like that.”

jonathan stayed quiet for a moment, so long that you wondered if he had fallen asleep.

“no consequences?”

“no consequences.”

you didn’t know what you were expecting jonathan to say. maybe you were expecting him to say something about sneaking in a concert, or scream at everyone who had ever done any harm to him or his family.

you definitely weren’t expecting him to say,

“kiss you.”

you stared at him. stared at his eyes that didn’t leave yours, at his adam apple, at the noticeable pulse in his neck. for a moment, you waited for him to burst into laughter and tell you you had totally fallen for his joke. but laughter never came. it was only silence, a hollow silence.

“what?”

you almost didn’t even recognize your voice by how breathless it sounded.

“if this was my last day on earth, with no consequences,” he started softly. “i’d want to kiss you.”

your heart was pounding loudly against your chest. the room suddenly felt too small, the bed felt too small, the entire world felt small compared to the huge new universe jonathan had just opened up.

“you’re my best friend,” he whispered. “i don’t want to lose you. so the only way i’d let myself do something about it is if the world was about to end.”

“but it’s not,” you paused. “it’s not ending.”

“no.” he muttered. “it’s not.”

you could see how scared he was. his eyes were wide, searching in your face for any clue that’d reveal what you were thinking. you had seen jonathan scared before. way too many times. and he looked just as scared now staring at you, as he had looked when his brother had been in danger, or when he had had to fight a monster.

you were scared too. but that didn’t stop you from leaning in. you paid close attention to jonathan’s reaction, and you didn’t miss the way his breath hitched and the way he glanced down at your lips. telling yourself that it was now or never, you finally broke the distance between the two of you, joining your lips together.

kissing your best friend wasn’t something you were expecting to happen. and he didn't seem to have been expecting it either. time seemed to stop, you and jonathan staying still, not moving a muscle. at last, he placed a shaking hand on your cheek, kissing you back.

the kiss was tentative and doubtful, as the two of you made your way through unknown territory. but soon, the kiss grew in strength and confidence. you grazed your tongue over his lower lip, and he didn’t waste a second before opening his mouth. you felt him gasp over your mouth, as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you even closer.

you kissed for a while, until eventually you pulled away, both of you gasping for air.

“wait,” he stammered, and you watched entertainingly as he struggled for words. “what?”

“i was gonna say rob a bank,” you grinned, already leaning in again, not tearing your gaze off his lips. “but that works too.”

as he kissed you again, you thought about all the things that keep you up at night. you thought about how growing up with jonathan and getting to know every single aspect of his being, both the good and the bad, had only made you fall harder for him. you thought about how everytime you two got drunk, you had to force yourself not to stare at his lips and wonder what would happen if you just leaned in and did what you feared the most, only to blame it on the alcohol later.

you always thought that your feelings would fade over time. but they never did. they only got stronger. and now, now that you knew those feelings were safe, that you were safe, your love was gaining a force you had never felt before. you knew you couldn’t back away now. and you didn’t want to.

“do you like my hair?” jonathan asked between kisses.

“mhm,” you mumbled against his lips, sinking your hands deeper into his hair, softly tugging. “so much.”

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers angst #jonathan byers imagines #stranger things imagines #stranger things au #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things fanfiction #charlie heaton #stranger things 4 #requests

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Meet "Boss" (aka another Welcome Home OC from my stories/AU)

They have a lot more dark topics, so I'ma just put some trigger warnings in case. Most are only lightly touched on or hinted at, though some are more in-depth.

TW: Cult Recruitment/Activities, Manipulation, Brief Mention of Grooming through Media (with the purpose being to make individuals join a cult), Mysterious Disappearances, Narcissism/Narcissistic Behavior, Obsessive Behavior

👔Basic info, like the first one. He is a young man named William Dorelaine. He is the younger brother of Ronald Dorelaine, who first came up with the idea for Welcome Home alongside Caesar Jones. William took over as boss, in place of his brother, after just a few episodes. He did so because Ronald went missing under mysterious circumstances. He doesn't have a partner or kids, but people have noted how he complains about being single.

👔 If you couldn't already tell by the tags, William is a part of a cult. Specifically, a spiritual/religious based one. He actually works as a recruiter for his cult. When he took over as boss, he quickly got to work on changing the show up a little. He made it so that the whole dynamic between the characters was more like a cult, with the intention being to groom children into thinking that these behaviors are normal. Wally works as the cult leader, being at the center of the neighborhood both socially and physically. The neighbors represent other members of the cult and Home is meant to loosely represent a divine power, being the only living house in the neighborhood and having a tight bond with Wally. Everyone acts so nice and makes a tight bond with the viewer. It's meant to teach kids that, if a kind person (even a stranger) wants to talk to you or even ask you to join them in a fun, interesting group/community, it is okay to say yes! They will treat you well!

👔 William actually hates kids. Like, he actively hates kids. If he sees one on the street while walking somewhere with someone (probably a fellow cultist), he will turn to his friend and whisper something like "look at that snot-nosed brat... I'm glad our group doesn't allow kids. It's disgusting..."

👔 He can and WILL make you disappear. How do you think Ronald went missing? He has friends (cultists) who care very deeply about their group (cult), so he can just say you are a risk to their plans (ascension). Then... POOF! You're gone! No one knows what really happens to them besides William and his friends, but no one's been found, yet.

👔 William doesn't like anyone at the studio, really. He can pretend to like them VERY well, though. He can even pretend to be their friends, although, he will never see them that way. He only considers his fellow cult members friends. In fact, he feels closer to them than his own family. Caesar is the most annoying, though. He constantly questions him, but he also feels as though he can't just have him disappear. He is essential to the show, due to being the last remaining person from its conception. If he got rid of Caesar, there would probably be controversy. Then, controversy starts investigations. Then investigations could result in William being exposed.

👔 Not much is known about the cult William is a part of, but it is known that it has a lot to do with night and day cycles, as well as time in general. Drawings of Suns and Moons happen to litter the walls of the studio and Welcome Home never seems to openly show nighttime in any episode. Clocks seem very important, too, as his house and office are full of them. He claims to just collect them.

👔 He is a somatic narcissist, meaning that he specifically takes narcissistic pride in his appearance. He will spend hours obsessing over the smallest of things, from his hair to his skin, to make sure he looks perfect and better than everyone else. It is one of the reasons why he is so distraught over being a single man. In his eyes, people should be ADORING him left and right. He wants, no, NEEDS compliments about his everything. His hair, his eyes, his skin, even his teeth are all perfect, so why hasn't anybody asked him out, yet? He doesn't understand that, although he might look nice, live isn't just about looking handsome. Needless to say, he wouldn't be the best partner to a lover, so it is good that most people seem to stay away from a romantic relationship with him.

👔 If he were to ever find someone who embodies the values of the cult, as in they act and follow the values without being a part of the cult or knowing anything about it, he would go nuts for them. It would most likely be the only time that he would EVER treat someone as if they were above him. He most likely wouldn't even see them as a human being, instead claiming that they might be something above human. The problem is, with his narcissistic tendencies, he would feel as if he DESERVES them, so he would pursue them relentlessly. Due to the mysterious nature surrounding the cult, though, no one but the members know why someone simply embodying the values of the cult would be so important.

👔 If he were to ever figure out that something was up with the puppets, he would be soaring over both the Sun and Moon! He would take it as a sign that the cult's plans (ascension) is coming soon! Or maybe, it is a sign that his prayers are being answered! While in many cases Wally would worship/love the whoever controls him or helps him (which, William fits the first category in his own way), William would worship the puppets. He would believe that the life given to these inanimate objects are the possible embodiment of his cult's deities and/or ideals, which should be worshipped.

(Bruh I am going to write about this guy and Caesar Jones SO MUCH so I'm sorry if it makes my other writings for the Canon Welcome Home Characters x Readers a bit slower. I'll answer any questions about my Welcome Home OCs, too. Y'all don't have to, but I think it might help some people understand my current and future writings a bit more. OwO)

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home oc

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theonevoice · 9 months

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Rumination n. 2 - About Fallen Angel

One aspect of Good Omens that I don’t see as much praised as the amazing writing of Neil Gaiman and the unbelievable performances of Michael Sheen and David Tennant, but I find crucial to the gut-wrenching beauty of this second season in particular, is the wonderful soundtrack by David Arnold.

The music of this show is just brilliant, to a point where it feels almost arrogant for me to point it out, like it would sound weird if someone came out of the blue saying “You know, that Beethoven guy is actually rather nice”. So I will just pick one single track that, to me, summarizes how much the soundtrack helps carry the weight of the story, packing layers over layers on each scene and adding to the writing and the acting an extra expressive space that can be filled with even more facets of the main themes.

I’m thinking in particular of the scene at the end of ep. 2, with the pivotal dialogue that, for the first time, really cement the alliance between Crowley and Aziraphale as two individuals who are not entirely conforming to the expectations of their respective sides. By the time this dialogue rolls in, something massive has just happened: each of them has been caught red-handed by the other, doing and feeling things that negate their respective “company policies”. Crowley has been found out not wanting to destroy Job’s goats, let alone kill his children, and Aziraphale has been found out unable to endorse the dire implications of the Bet. Lucky them, this all happened between the two of them, nobody else is involved or informed, and this reciprocity allows them to pause for a moment and start reflecting on their situation. We know, of course, that this moment was waiting to happen since the conversation on the wall of Eden, when Aziraphale is visibly touched by the slightest sliver of doubt (his expression tells us that what Crowley is saying about God putting the Tree in such a prominent spot, as if to induce temptation on purpose, does make a point, despite him not wanting to speculate, possibly because he remembers all too well how dangerous it is to ask questions in Heaven), and since their meeting before the flood, when Crowley realizes that he doesn’t like the perspective of having innocent people killed, which is not a strictly demon-like thing to feel (and he knows it because his comment about the indiscriminate extermination of everyone via the flood is “this is more the kind of thing that you would expect my lot to do”, which, transitive property applied, means that he is upset about at least some of the things that Hell throws at the earth). But the Job encounter is the first time that all of this has actually been said (more or less) out loud by both of them.

So what about the music?

The track playing with the final dialogue is titled Fallen Angel, and I find that there is something heartbreaking in it. Yes, of course, it is a quote from Aziraphale’s line, when he desperately refers to himself as “a fallen angel”, but “fallen angel” is also what Crowley is, despite what he himself would like to think.

We talk a lot about how much Aziraphale is the one in constant denial – denial of Heaven’s dark sides, denial of his own sometimes shaky moral stance (let’s not forget that, between the Arthurian period and the meeting at the Globe, he has agreed to go around tempting people on behalf of Crowley, which means quite literally doing Hell’s work), most of all denial of his own feelings – and this is certainly true. But I feel that we should also recognize how much Crowley is in denial in his own way, specifically denial of the traces that his original angelic nature has left behind. Or rather, of those parts of angelic nature that he held on to even after being cast to Hell. Now, as much as I love the interpretation of their last exchange in ep. 6 as Aziraphale offering to “change Heaven for him” rather than asking him to change for Heaven, I still think that Aziraphale has been forcing on Crowley a distorted still-an-angel portrait because in doing so he is blocking out at least some of his internal struggle (and this “weakness”, in my opinion, makes his character even more vivid and lifelike). But I also think that Crowley’s angry reactions to having his chosen identity denied by the only person in the universe that is dear to him are tinted by the trauma of the Fall.

And the music in that scene, I believe, is telling us just that. Of all the tracks in season 2, I find Fallen Angel to be the most melancholy one together with The End?, and possibly even sadder: because The End? starts playing when both us viewers and the protagonists are in a literal, I would say almost medical state of shock, unable to master the emotional resources needed to process what just happened. Fallen Angel on the contrary is a desperately calm moment of reflection on what their situation in the universe is, on how their respective cages are hurting them, and how painfully hard it is to summon the courage to escape them, to even think of escaping them. It seems to me that even the set choice confirms this mood: after an entire episode spent almost exclusively in closed, sometimes claustrophobic spaces, they are finally “outside”, on the top of a cliff (like when they briefly met at the beginning of the episode, but now the dry canyon is a beautiful gulf), watching a calm blue sea under a calm blue sky: everything is wide open, vast, unobstructed, with no living thing around as if they are alone in the universe, their thoughts and fears can flow freely and unrestricted. And in this moment of honesty, when they for the first time open up to each other, we have Fallen Angel, which is not just sad, is also nostalgic. But how and why can it be nostalgic? If the title only refers to Aziraphale, nostalgia makes no sense, because his feelings in those moments are feelings of desperation and angst. But if the title refers to both of them, then it does make sense, because nostalgia is the pain of something that has been lost, and while Aziraphale has not lost anything yet, sitting next to him there is someone who has lost something that cannot entirely be forgotten. Surely, one could say that by now Aziraphale has lost his original “innocence”, but I would argue that, on the wall of Eden, having just given away the flaming sword, he was already letting that sliver of doubt creep in, and he was definitely not comfortable with discussing the flood. Furthermore, telling his first lie counts as a loss (of innocence and peace of mind) no more than it counts as a gain (of awareness, freedom, and self-actualization). On the other side, Crowley was denied the chance to work his situation out in such a safe space. He just lost his original status over asking questions.

If Aziraphale is in denial of the traits of his personality that make him not entirely angelic, Crowley is equally – if not more – in denial of the traits of his personality that still link him to an ideal of good that is, or at least should be angelical. And it is a quite visible denial. He is annoyed by the smallest allusion to his good qualities, but as soon as he lets his guard down he goes back to remembering that he “didn’t mean to fall”, just “hung around the wrong people”, that he “didn’t really fall”, just “sauntered vaguely downwards”. That’s why Fallen Angel can be nostalgic. It’s not just about Aziraphale contemplating for a moment that he could be (or deserve to become) a fallen angel, but it’s also about the actual fallen angel sitting next to him, who, as much as he wants to paint himself as tranquil and satisfied with his situation, is still aching from the absolute pain and terror that he felt when he was cast out of Heaven. He used to be, after all, the angel that we see before the Beginning: he was so sure that just asking questions could not get him into trouble, he had no intention of rebelling or leaving. This – obviously – does not mean that Crowley is still an angel or wants by any means to go back to being an angel: he could never go back to that, exactly because he has experienced too much grief to be ever able to fit in the narrow mould of an angel again, to be able to just bask in the joyous light of God’s will in the unshaken certainty that it is entirely Good and Just and Forgiving. He has first-hand experienced that it can be cruel and unjust and unforgiving. He has forged and conquered an identity of his own, but it is an identity born out of the pain of not having a place to belong. He had to carve out a new path for himself, he didn’t mean to, he barely realized that it was about to fall (“didn’t have anything on the rest of the afternoon… next thing I was doing a million light year freestyle dive into a pull of boiling sulfur”).

So let’s look at what is happening from Crowley’s point of view. There you have an angel that has just violated the Heavenly code of conduct, and he is so pure of heart that he is just going to turn himself in to a blind and vindictive authority. If he let him go ahead, there is a chance that this could give him a fellow “demon who goes along with Hell as far as he can”, but at what cost? If Aziraphale’s conflict is a conflict between living by his own independent judgment (which includes choosing Crowley over obedience to Heaven) and staying true to the side “of good, of truth, of light”, Crowley’s conflict is a conflict between the need to escape solitude by pulling Aziraphale to his side and saving Aziraphale from the trauma that the Fall gave him and that being fallen still gives him.

A couple of millennia later he will joke about how being damned “is not so bad when you get used to it”, but Fallen Angel playing under this dialogue in ep. 2 tells us that he would never put Aziraphale through what being damned really means. He is a demon who is actually saving an angel from the risk of becoming a demon himself, because he knows how deeply and irreparably that can wound your soul, to the point that you would rather lie than admit it. “I’m a demon, I lied”: I know what it means to be in this place, don’t drag yourself here, it’s a realm of exile and loneliness, let’s agree that an angel can still be an angel even if he steps out of line from time to time, let’s create a margin of maneuver that did not exist when all this happened to me. Now it’s too late for me, but not for you.

So, to wrap up, thank you David Arnold for your invaluable work.

#good omens 2 #go 2 speculation #go2 spoilers #good omens #david arnold #fallen angel

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thegoblinboy · 1 year

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You Looking at me, Looking at you

Word count: 10,356

Part: 1/2 (next part will be out soon let me know if you want to be tagged)

Summary: Steve Harrington has fought a demogorgan and numerous demo dogs. Those were supposed to be the scariest and most challenging things he’s ever done in his life. Instead, he quickly discovers the most scariest and gorgeous thing in Eddie Munson. A freak and supposed outcast he is supposed to teach how to swim before he graduates. Which in itself alone could spark PTSD in anybody. Flirting with fake southern accents, sharing a joint and slowly becoming closer Steve slowly realizes that D.A.R.E should have a whole course talking about what you should do to avoid becoming addicted to one human being. Specifically Eddie Munson, who has become the center of his universe in a shockingly short amount of time.

Ao3 link

"𝕻𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖘 𝕭𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖉𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖉, 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖔 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖜, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗. 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖙 𝖒𝖊, 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚"

Swim practice always began at two thirty five. Always five minutes after the last bell released all of the kids from their final class of the day. Leaving only five minutes for Steve to sprint to the locker room, strip and be on the edge of the pool waiting for his coach to come out. Whistle over his hairy chest, and tiny shorts on. There was no reason for Mr. Winchester to be shirtless or in such tiny shorts, no one on the swim team has ever seen him even touch the water. Let alone in it. Today started off like most days. Make sure not to eat anything with in the hour, rush to be there on time and wait anxiously on the side of the pool. Steve always had a problem with waiting. He just wanted to jump right in and get wet, holding his breath and just floating under the water sitting at the bottom of the pool for just a minute before coming back up. Swimming the eight feet smoothly.

The doors behind the line of boys slams open. A loud laugh as someone's voice bounces off the walls. Causing everyone to cringe, as they all assume that this was just some random kid coming in to laugh at them. If they all had placed bets that moment all of them would have bet for the same thing. Standing in the doorway stood Eddie Munson. A metal head loser who didn't have any problems sneering at any form of jock in the hallways or hopping up on a lunch table and going into a loud tangent over conformity.

They all watch as the others nose scrunches up, the smell of chlorine hitting him. The way his face goes a light pink as he looks at the line of different shirtless guys with swimming trunks that barely hid anything. Steve, for a split second is distracted by his desire to jump into the deep end along with his other teammates. Curious as to how this guy was going to react, the obvious vein that was popping from his neck was an interesting sight. Though before anyone can say anything, the locker-room doors slam open.

"Munson! Strip and get in line! ASAP, or you will be failing gym this year!"

Steve, along with the other guys on the swim team quickly stiffen up and look forward. Used to the strict manner of Coach Winchester. Standing up straight and tall everyone keeps their eyes forward as they hear grunts coming from behind them. Chains clinking to the floor, all of them including Steve wished they could look behind them and see what was going on. Though they could only watch the teachers face, which goes a little red from irritation. The sounds of clothing being dropped to the ground were obvious, and the guy to Steve's right was holding his breath. Fighting back a few chuckles, up until Eddie mutters under his breath. Only for the teenagers surrounding him to here.

"God, never seen a man more excited about getting a guy naked,"

Eddie Munson was a interesting case, a well known class clown that was bound to make everyone laugh at some point. His first victim was Bobby Riley. A guy who Steve has only had a proper conversation with only a handful of times. From the small impression he had, the guy took swimming seriously. Obviously for the scholarships. Hearing the soft snort coming from him of all people meant they were all screwed. Winchester hears the soft noise and his eyes fly over his team. With military experience, he has always expected some of the rules to drift over to swimming. If you were going to be on his team, you would take it seriously. "Riley, ten laps back and forth now." He spits out. Leveling the suspects down to Bobby, who was the only one who was squirming in his place.

Without argument Bobby Riley moves diving in the water, swimming fluidly under the water. Making it halfway through the pool before coming up for air. Not stopping from moving forward. "Munson, take Riley's spot? Steven, make sure he doesn't crack his head open like a dumbass." The man barks out. Steve stiffens up just a little bit as he feels the presence of the other boy now next to him. A little to close to him for what the line should be. He would glance over but he knew that would receive him twenty laps for breaking position.

"Yes Sir." He says softly. Never having to raise his voice, letting the walls carry it over to the approaching man. Who was now in front of Kyle Evans. Who was staring forward blankly and not reacting in the slightest. The coach stares him down for a few seconds before the demeanor of the boy shakes. Winchester shakes his head with a eye roll before moving to the next boy, and then the next. Searching for something that was unknown amongst the team.

Steve was the next one to receive the stare down. He keeps his chest raised, breathing in slowly and releasing air softly as he doesn't break eye contact with the older. He could feel Eddie's eyes on the both of them. Whatever the man seems to be searching for, he finds when Steve doesn't break like the others. "Well seems like Harrington is the only one out of the lot of you to have some respect and discipline. All of you! Ten laps with Riley!" Steve moves to follow along listening to orders but he is stopped just as fast as they were spoken "Harrington, you're going to have to teach this joke how to swim. Think you can handle that? Know you have the life guard experience."

Steve nearly hesitates, almost says no. He doesn't have this. He didn't want to teach Eddie Munson how to swim. The guy would be a waste of his time. Realistically, this was a opportunity of being on coaches good side. The whole team knew that when you were there you would receive all the perks. So instead of hesitating he takes the whole situation with stride. Speaking confidently but not cocky as he answers. "Yeah, I can handle it coach."

The coach pauses for a second looking through him again, as if he was thinking. "Good. This will be a practice run for now. Take him to the kitty pool out back where the juniors swim and show him some things. But after today you will have to figure out how to teach him on your own personal time." The others voice is gruff as he talks.

Well shit, what the hell did Steve just get himself into?

Ten minutes later, Steve discovered the spawn of Satan. The bane of his existence. The eighth wonder of the world. He's sure finding Atlantis or proving that aliens were real would be a lot easier then whatever the hell was going on now. Eddie Munson was like a fish. Out of water. Flopping around like he was on land, instead of being in water. Water was spraying all over the place and Steve was really trying to be patient. Not many words were passed between the two of them but this was not working.

"Munson! For the love of god will you stop just for five seconds!" Steve yells over the splashing of the water. He is tempted to snap at the guy. But after five minutes in the pool he had quickly caught onto the fact that the other wasn't doing this on purpose. Which was a little bit scary, because that meant he was just that bad at swimming. The guy looked like a puppy meeting water for the first time. Pouncing around and splashing water all over. His hair was laying flat down on his forehead and in his face, matting over his shoulders. Constantly flipping the water out of his hair without any luck of getting it out of his face. If Steve was going to be doing this more then once he made note of being a small box of hair ties for the other to wear.

Unlike Steve, Eddie was in a pair of his checkered boxers. Falling down his hips a little with the water, and god forbid if Steve looked longer then five seconds he was definitely able to see through them. He was the opposite of Steve. Steve was a bit buffed up, tanned out with freckles dotting along his skin. Eddie was scrawny, paler then a corpse and had small scratch like tattoos over his body. Though one similarity the two had were the scars. Eddie had random lines across his ribs, and little circle like scars that looked like burnt marks. Steve, was scarred up pretty good from his last encounter with the upside down. A light scar on his cheek bone from where Billy had cracked a plate against along with the top of his head.

"I have no idea what I am doing!" Eddie yells back. Looking a tad annoyed, moving the back of his hands through his curls as he glares at the other with a huff. Now he looked like a very wet rat and if Steve could laugh he would. It was an amusing sight watching the self acclaimed metal head try to look intimidating like this. His eyes must flicker with a little bit of amusement, as the other begins to throw himself around a bit. Rolling his eyes as he moves sloshing his way out of the water. Struggling to walk with the water against his ankles. Working his way to the side of the pool as he curses. "You know what! Fuck this!" He grumbles out.

Steve feels bad, groaning as he runs a hand through his hair. That has yet to get soaked with their time being out here. Though it was just a tad damp from running wet fingers through it "Oh come on Munson, I didn't expect you to know what you are doing. I'm sure if I randomly showed up to your front step and asked you to teach me-" he pauses to think what the other could possibly teach him. The other seems to pause to look at him curiously. Shoulders tense. This was the moment that would decide whether or not Eddie would stick around to take these lessons. "Fuck- what's the name. Shit Dnd - dragons and dungeons or whatever the hell the name is. I'm sure you would laugh at a stupid jock trying to swim in your expertise." Steve rambles out a little. Moving his arms to cross over his chest. That was bare, freshly waxed the other day.

He's not sure whether his speech worked or not until the other groans. Grumbling a little bit, "I hate that you are right. Though it's Dungeons and Dragons." He complains moving to wade his way to a more shallow part. Moving closer to Steve in the process who was tilting his head as he snaps his fingers as the other says the name.

Sighing as he rubs the side of his face with a chuckle, "sorry you would think after listening to four kids rant about the game I would remember the order of the words." He says softly. Hoping he didn't offend the other, like he normally did Dustin and Mike whenever he said the name wrong. Though he's sure the kids thought he did it on purpose. He didn't. "Though, you do need more control over your limbs then what you got." He comments. Eyes not moving away from the others movement. Watches the other sit on the side of the pool, leaving his feet in the water.

"And, you need to get swim trunks that aren't white." A look of confusion flashes over the others face, seemingly not processing that he was wearing very see through boxers. Steve snorts as he shakes his head amused, "I've seen your balls more then I've seen your face dude." He teases as he moves getting out of the water. Figuring that they were done for the day. Pulling himself up from the side watching droplets of water fall on the cement from his trunks. Moving and tossing an extra towel towards the other, not bothering to grab his own knowing that he would be in the pool again.Watching the other toss the towel through his mane, giving him a second before he begins to wave his hand to get the other to follow him. Leading him to the shower area where he quickly shows him how to get the shower going before he was leaving the boy behind. Ignoring the way the other had gone silent all of a sudden, with a light blush over his face.

Steve on the other hand moves to the pool, right as the last of the guys were leaving. Closing the doors behind them. He sighs gently as he pops some of his tense bones before he's moving and gracefully diving in the water. Doing what he has been craving for over a hour. Just floating at the bottom of the pool and just letting everything drift away just for a few minutes. The stress of school, the stress of his father constantly on his shoulders and the anxiety of the Upside Down returning floating away along with the small bubbles of his breath let float up to the surface. Hair following a long with them as far as each strand could reach, before his lungs start to burn from the lack of oxygen and he's using his feet to push himself off from the bottom and gasping for air as he comes to the surface. Hair falling in front of his eyes as he moves swimming over to the pool side. Not as graceful as he normally would as he focuses on catching his breath. Distracted enough not to notice Eddie coming out with a towel wrapped around his waist in search of the clothes he had just left on ground.

Eddie didn't have much experience with water. He's of course gone swimming before, but that was when he was way younger and could get away with wearing ugly floaters around his arms and body; nor has he actually watched someone do said exercise. He thought he has seen Steve Harrington at his highest before his ultimate downfall. Like any tragic character in a Greek play. For once he was terribly wrong about the other boy. Steve Harrington flew under water with such Grace that it took his breathe away. Everything about the other was captivating, from the way his hair would be tossed back causing water droplets to fly through the air to the way his limbs would move as he just freely swims under the water before going to front strokes. Then a few normal laps before shifting to backstrokes.

Of all situations, Eddie never pictured himself staring star struck at Steve Harrington swimming while holding his pants and trying to run out of the door before he's caught ogling a jock. It would be a bit hypocritical of him to be caught staring at the forbidden fruit that he made sure to announce publicly numerous times he would never touch. He would not fall for such a sun, but as he lets the door click behind him holding his clothes tightly to his chest, wet boxers over his left arm and a towel tightly wrapped around his waist he was tempted. Felt like Adam and Eve as they were given the one thing god told them they weren't allowed to. Letting a shaky breath out he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to slow his racing heart and calm that overwhelming feeling flowing through his veins. The same feeling that made him do flappy hands, jump up on tables or make goofy faces at the lost sheep of Hawkins high.

He's not sure how long he stays like this, maybe five minutes maybe ten. When he finally moves he realizes he forgot his shoes inside. Not thinking he had the strength or will power to do such a task he does the walk of shame to his van. Face red as he throws himself in the back. Thankful that no one was around to witness his lowest of lows. Pulling his skinny jeans up around himself was a task, especially with wet skin and no underwear. Grunting he has to adjust himself numerous times before he was able to pull his shirt over his chest and slide himself between the two front seats. Getting in the drivers side of the car as he turns the ignition. Right as the schools doors open, revealing Steve Harrington holding both his raggedy pairs of shoes in the air. Trying to catch his attention, which Eddie promptly ignores as he pulls out of the parking lot. Only wanting to leave the school and the numerously dangerous thoughts behind him.

One thing that stayed consistent with Eddie Munson, was that he was a runner.

*****

The next day Steve had participated in practice, earning some pitiful glances as he does. Word had spread around the team that he was on babysitter duty in a sense. All of them would do anything to be on their coaches good side but none of them were insane enough to teach Eddie Munson of all people how to swim. In their minds that was a losing battle waiting to happen. If the guy was as good at swimming as he was graduating. Due to Eddie running off without talking to Steve first, neither of them had communicated about when their next lesson would be. That was definitely going to be a problem, and one that Steve would have to solve fast before he was forced to do suicides. After one day of not hearing from him, and two days after their first lesson Steve makes it his mission to find the other to schedule one and to return his shoes.

It to his surprise it wasn't all that difficult to find Eddie Munson in the mix of Hawkins High. Well known amongst the younger grades for jumping up on tables and going on with loud and hilarious speeches and known for his drugs by the older grades he was on everyone's radar. This meant that Steve only had to ask a handful of kids if they had seen him to be pointed to the library. Somewhere that Steve didn't go all that often. He wasn't much of a reader, the words normally blurred and he couldn't focus long enough to read a book let alone a paragraph. The didn't even read the books that were assigned in English class, most times he would just take notes from someone who was reading it and write half assed essays on that.

The library was a reserved area, that raised his anxiety more then any place in the school. Everyone was silent in here and could easily sneak up on him. Something he didn't particularly enjoy. Biting his tongue he forces himself across the line that separated the hall from the library and makes his way in. Giving a tight smile to the kind librarian behind the desk who welcomes him cheerfully, and proceeds to move down aisles of books in search of this guy. What made the whole situation even more awkward was the fact that he was currently holding Munson's shoes. That he somehow had forgotten. God only knows.

The first five aisles he has no luck, instead he finds a book that was on the floor off to the corner. Almost ignoring it he decides to move and take care of it. Picking the book up curiously as his eyebrows furrow in curiosity. A cats face was seen on the lower half, faded into the picture of a guy standing near a cross in the background. The sky was red along with the authors name. Squinting his eyes he rubs his eyes a bit as the font starts to move around on him, a problem that didn't start until his first concussion back in freshman year. He always felt a bit nauseous when he forces himself to try reading something, and this was no different. Groaning annoyed he rubs his eyes a bit more deciding that if he was making his stomach upset with the brief glance he was going to at least know the title of the book.

"Problems Harrington?" The familiar voice snaps him from his staring contest with the cover. Moving his head up blinking a bit feeling a tad dizzy as he watches Eddie's face go a bit blurry on him. He shakes his head no as he begins to feel light headed. Closer to throwing up then what he had been a few moments ago. He can't really see that great, as he chuckles offering the book up for the other. Mumbling a soft 'here' letting the other take it away from him.

"Aww is Pet Cemetery to scary for you big boy?" The guy teases playfully. Leaning a bit close to him, like it was something he was trying to keep between the two of them. Though Steve didn't care if anyone else heard him. He snorts just a little bit at the others joke as he shakes his head no fighting to focus his eyes a bit.

"No- that's seriously the title?" He asks distracted looking down at the cover again trying to see if the words would form together now that he knew what they said. But still he was unable to read it out, even in Eddie's hand.

"Yeah... can you not read Harrington?" Eddie snorts as he moves to slide it back into a empty space between 'Carrie' and 'the shining' there is nothing malicious coming from his tone but he was obviously picking at some jock stereotype. Even though Steve had no desire to read nor did he ever have any enjoyment from the activity the joke still stung a bit. Rolling his eyes he moves the others shoes out for the other to take from him.

"So? You can't even swim Munson, the thing babies can do I don't want to hear it from you." He says a tad bitterly. Watching the way the other turns a little stunned. Eddies face scrunches up in a way of remorse as he takes his shoes back from the other. Currently wearing his Uncles boots that were two sizes to big. He opens his mouth a little as he pauses to think before he spoke. Something that was rare for him.

"Seriously? You don't know how to read?" He whispers to him with wide eyes. Once again he isn't asking to be mean, just out of shock and curiosity. How did the other past his drivers exam if you didn't know how to read?

Steve snorts, "I know how to read, Munson." Shaking his head as he glances down at the others footwear out of curiosity.

"Well then you can read?" Eddie is confused trying to piece the puzzle together.

"No, I can not." Steve says slowly, as if it was common sense. "The words they uh... well they don't sit still on the page when I'm looking down. One of the side effects of having four concussions." He's shy as he explains it but comes off a bit more bitter towards the end. Not enjoying the concussions. He doesn't enjoy the attention on his flaw as he quickly tries to change the subject. "Though, I'm not naming names, but someone sprinted out of the school without their shoes yesterday before we could decide on the next lesson?" Steve raises a eyebrow.

Eddie doesn't catch on to the social cue and was to distracted by the new information that he was receiving. "Holy shit? Four concussions? Do images do the same thing when you are looking at them? Like move around like animation and shit?" He asks innocently wide eyed as he moves to lean against the book shelf leaving his arms crossed, one of his fingers staying hooked into the shoes. Startled as the shelf he tries leaning against moves a little bit. Causing Steve to let a soft chuckle out, distracted by the others clumsiness to be annoyed by the other not dropping the topic he would much rather avoid. Eddie quickly moves to stand back up, figuring that it wouldn't be a good idea to lean against the unstable shelf. "Well good, because no one has evidence that I- er I mean someone? Ran out yesterday evening without their shoes on." Eddie says determinedly as he lets his head lean back a little. Sucking in his lip in a little, the only way Steve could describe him was that he looked like a frog making that facial expression.

"First off, no. I don't have my own personal Walt Disney up there drawing every frame to let the images move in my vision." He shakes his head as he drags a hand through his hair. Trying to be annoyed but that question brought more entertainment to this meeting then anything else. Distracting him from the fact that anything could creep up on them and he wouldn't have seen it coming. "Oh? Well why would I lie about such a thing Munson?" Steve teases curiously. Moving to lean himself against the other book frame. Only because he wanted to mess with the other. He crosses his arms a bit tighter around himself as the shelf doesn't shake and stays put. Smirking as he doesn't think about the space in-between them lacking inches.

"Damn it." Eddie curses. Acting as if that was the worst news he's ever heard, snapping the fingers from his free hand lousy as he comically swings the same around to the left in the same motion. "Here I thought you were a freak like me." He jokes with a huge grin on his face. Before huffing about to respond when the bell rings. Bringing both of them back to reality as Steve glances up at the bell before looking back at the other. All conversation dying between the two of them as the subject changes back to what it was originally intended to be.

"So? When did you want our next lesson?" Steve asks as he moves himself off from the frame and looks at the other with a slightly impatient look. Anxious about being late to practice.

"Hm- tomorrow. After school at four work for you?" Eddie asks. Earning a quick nod before Steve is quickly moving to leave. Not saying much more as he leaves a confused metal head behind him.

****

Four Ten sharp is when Eddie meets Steve near the pool. Late and annoyed as he starts to peel his clothes off in preparation of getting into the pool. Tired, and ready to go home for a nap Eddie was grumpy and a tad cranky. Steve quickly catches onto the others mood shift compared to the day before and was quick to accommodate for the other. Not forcing him to go outside, but stay inside where he helps him into the shallow end. Forcing him to let the water up to his chest to get used to the feeling so when he did go into the deep end it didn't freak him out. Steve had attempted to look up ways to teach someone how to swim, but with the shifting words didn't get that far. Total shocker right? Though the diagrams that were drawn over the papers did give him a slight understanding and they seemed to help with the other a lot more.

Eddie was also a lot less energetic, which meant that his limbs weren't flying all over the place. Causing water to go all over, and into Steve's eyes. Today was a lot more productive in a sense, but when Steve remembers the next step he is a bit hesitant. The other, like a piranha almost senses the others hesitation like it was blood in the water. "What?" He asks tightly and very much sour. Eyes squinting at the other as he expects something. Unsure of what, knew that whatever the other had planned was not a good idea.

"Well, it would help if you got used to not having your feet on the floor all the time." Steve draws off for a second as he adds. "And most times when someone's teaching someone how to swim they normally help the other up above water as they practice kicking." Steve explains as the other just listens. Jaw tense as he glares at the other. Even though Eddie was hearing the others words he wasn't really processing what the other was implying.

"Ok-" Eddie drags out for a second. "And?" He asks raising his eyebrow in a way that makes Steve get anxious and awkward about tossing this idea out there. Silence falls over the both of them, with the acceptation of the water filter going. Echoing and bouncing louder against the walls.

"Well, I was thinking that I help you get a hang of it. By picking you up a little and letting you kick and float without touching the ground." Steve explains shyly. Face a bit pink as he steps in the water a bit awkward. Eddie stares at him for a second before he breaks out into laughter.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking with me Harrington. That's the funniest thing I've heard all day," he snorts as his head throws itself back. As if he had his own gravitational force that Steve wasn't aware of. For a split second he forgets to feel embarrassed of annoyed by the others words. Rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms a bit as he glares at the other.

"Well they normally do this with five year olds, but someone is kind of a late bloomer you know?" Steve sasses back. Watches the way the others smile breaks. Shoulders tense up as he's about to give Steve a piece of his mind. But Steve quickly stops him, not in the mood for an argument. "Dude, it was just a idea. I wasn't going to do it without your permission. Besides it's not often I teach nineteen year olds how to swim, typically it's five year olds at the YMCA, where it's a lot more flexible with lessons. I want to get this done and over with just as much as you, so for the love of god don't break out into a speech that will cause my ears to bleed from annoyance." He rambles out quickly. Making sure not to give the other room for interrupting him. Eddie doesn't, just stands in his place. Water floating above his boxers and below his belly button as he stays still. Not tempted to go any deeper yet. He has but it wasn't something he was willing to do with Steve being next to him.

"Fine." Eddie grumbles as he moves sloshing the water around as he moves back a bit. Going a bit deeper but staying where he can touch as he turns back around to glare at the other. "I bet this won't even work." He sasses, cocking his head in a way that annoyed Steve a bit.

Steve doesn't hesitate to pick up on this. "Ok, I bet if it does work that you have to show up to one of my competitions." He says with a raised eyebrow. Assuming the other would want to back track on his word. To his surprise the other doesn't hesitate as he grins. Face brightening as his wet curls fall in front of his eyes.

"And if it doesn't work, you have to-" Eddie pauses as he tries to think about what the other should do. Hesitating as he shifts his weight onto his other leg. "Dress up like a freak for a week Harrington." He grins mischievously. Steve snorts a little at the request as he moves a bit closer watching the others confidence dwindle a bit.

"Well then, let's get to it." Steve says clapping his hands a little. Preparing for everything to happen and nothing at all. It was Eddie he was talking about. Something that was easy for a three year to do possibly could be the hardest thing the other has ever done.

Eddies face is a light red as he starts to grow awkward. Limbs tensing and locking up as he stands in his spot trying to cower into himself. Steve shakes his head amused at the other as he pats the others shoulder playfully. The warmth contact was causing Eddie to lose just a few more brain cells. Stuttering over his words as Steve starts to manhandle him to a deeper spot of the water. Where only the other could barely touch, just with his toes. Not only was Eddie's anxiety raising about not being able to touch the bottom his heart was racing. The smell of chlorine was now much closer to his face, with the water being up to his chin now. Turning his head he gives in and tries to trust Steve who has only been saying assuring things. Not trying push the other to far Steve stays close with the other.

His hand moves down to the dip of Eddie's waist and that's when he loses it. Eddie quickly splashes over to a bit of a shallow part, where the water was below his chest so that he could breathe. His lungs were working fast as he attempts to catch his breath, heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. Steve was by his side in seconds as he carefully places a hand on the others back and gently rubs some of the tension away. Once again Eddie felt like he was standing under the tree, with the forbidden fruit right above his face close to his nose. Scratch that, he felt like Isaac Newton purposely dropped this apple on his god damn head. Leaving a huge bump behind that made his head spin and question everything he knew. Because there was this gravitational pull towards Steve that Eddie seemed to really like. Problem was, a bit too much. There was something about the boy that was once again sending butterflies to his stomach.

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down, curls damp and swinging all over. Overwhelming him a bit as he fights with his curls a bit. Steve snaps his fingers in excitement confusing Eddie even more. Standing put as he watches the other throw himself out of the pool and return with a hair tie. That was tightly wrapped around his wrist as he hops back down and pulls it off to give to the other boy. For the few seconds that it was on his skin it left a small indent that caught Eddie's attention. Forcing him to look at the numerous freckles that scattered his skin. Thinking about how he could kiss one and find another within a inch a way. Shaking his head a little at the thought he takes the hair tie confused. Looking at Steve in a questioning way, unsure what he was supposed to do.

Steve snorts at the others reaction as he moves forward carefully and takes the band back as he moves around the other. Carefully holding the others curls and pulling it up just as lightly. Accidentally tugging at his scalp in the process as Eddie jokes. "Careful Harrington, I might just like that." His tone his playful, the words slipping from his mouth before he could think. He doesn't catch the way the other stares dumbly at the other, his mouth falling open in confusion. Eyes scrunching up just the same.

"Why would you like your hair being pulled?" Steve asks in confusion. Tilting his head to the side so he could glance at the others face. Eddies face once again goes a light pink as he realizes the joke went over the others head.

"Aw are you vanilla big boy?" He teases hoping to get the other to understand what he was saying. The joke must have gone over Steve's head flying a couple of miles before returning and slapping him upside the head. Relocation hits the jock as his face grows red.

"Um? Yeah?" He says awkwardly. Laughing some how even more awkwardly. Eddie just wants to slap himself in the face. Realizing the joke didn't land like he had hoped. Instead the idea that Steve was gentle in bed had been planted into his head and the idea was bouncing over different sides of his brain. God, he's sure he has a devil on one shoulder and a Angel on the other right now. Whispering different things in his ear as Steve's hands are in his curls pulling it up before stepping back. Creating a distance between the two as he inspects his handy work. "Alright that should hold for now." He says softly. The question of why Steve had hair ties on him, when no one else he knew had long hair was left unsaid.

"Let's try a more shallow part hm?" Steve smiles kindly. Never making Eddie feel stupid about the irrational fear. He doesn't want to argue or make the other upset so he follows again. As much as he just wanted to curl up in the corner and have a panic attack. He moves as Steve once again attempts to get him to relax. Eddie does, but his limbs tense up again as Steve helps him get into a position to help him swim. Which ends up with Eddie moving to his knees, skin scraping against pool floor as he wills himself not to get a boner. God that would be one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen. Though he's sure it wouldn't be much of one with the cold water.

He doesn't allow himself to look up at the other, knowing that would tempt him to make numerous jokes. Instead he follows every word the other says. Treating each one like it was from the gospel until he finds himself being pushed a little deeper in the water once he realizes it's not that bad. They are still in a shallow part as Steve moves down to his own knees sitting right next to him. Demonstrating the way to move his arms, the way to kick his legs before he's moving and he has two arms underneath Eddie. Helping him with guidance as Eddie starts to sloppily move in the water. For a second Eddie thinks he's won the bet, until something clicks and he's swimming a lot better then what he was. He doesn't realize that he no longer has the other next to him until he's on the side of the pool. Excitement fills him as he bounces up and down like a toddler.

"Oh my god I did it!" His voice scratches a bit as he jumps up and down bouncing more like he was in a bouncy cheer. Smiling brightly as his hair falls from the condiment the other put it in. Steve has a soft smile on his face as he shakes his head amused, moving to stand next to the other happily. Before the realization hits Eddie that the other was not next to him the entire time. "Oh my god, I could have died." He panics gripping onto the side of the pool like he wasn't currently touching the pool floor.

Steve rolls his eyes playfully as he laughs, "Eddie you were fine. Besides you can still touch the bottom. If you drowned that would've been the most dumbest thing I have ever seen in my life." He teases. Eddie glares at him as he opens his mouth to argue but Steve is interrupting him. "Besides, you lost the bet. Which means you, will be going to my competition tomorrow." He grins mischievously. Looking smug as he watches the other. Eddies words die on his tongue as he realizes the consequences to his actions.

His poor heart was not going to be able to handle this.

****

Shockingly there was not much of a crowd for this competition. Seemed like all the sports enthusiasts were more excited about football then swimming. Though the crowd was a decent sized, big enough to where Eddie could somehow blend in with them. Not looking out of place sitting by himself off to the corner, though he still wasn't completely fitting in with his awkward stance. Legs spread out a bit as he leans forward, copying the movement he's seen his Uncle do whenever he watches a football game. The holes over his knees were starting to rip more and his thighs ached a little from this stance so he soon gives up as he starts to fidget anxiously. He doesn't know what to expect but he doesn't want Steve to think that he doesn't care? Just because he was only here for a bet doesn't mean he didn't care.

Well he really shouldn't care about this swim competition as much as he did. It went against every single moral he's ever formed within the last few years of high-school. But yet here he was. Eddie Munson sitting in all his glory excitedly waiting to watch Steve grace this audience with the way he gracefully moved in the water. He already caught a few kids randomly placed around the room whispering together as they point at him. Not being discreet, raising his anxiety more. Causing his hands to shake and fidget between his thighs. Moving his numerous rings around his fingers as he stares a hole into the water. Time passes by slowly, and when the swim teams start to walk out he wishes that time would move faster so that he could see the guy he was here for.

Every single guy had a rubber cap on to hold their hair in place, no hair on their bodies, and very tight speedos that didn't leave any imagination for any of them. Thing was, steve had never worn any speedo when they were swimming together. He normally wore a ugly pair of swim trunks and left his hair out. It was probably breaking all sort of rules but it didn't seem like he cared. So it was a cultural shock when his eyes finally land on the guy. He was a bit more pudgier then the rest of the guys which meant easier identification on Eddie's part. Though like the others he looked like he had recently shaved his body. Little chest hairs had been poking out across his skin the last time Eddie had seen him. Now as he stands up excitedly smiling brightly at Steve who looks shocked to see him, he realizes that no one was whistling or yelling out for Steve. Turning his head confused he looks through the crowd and quickly catches onto the fact that he was the one and only person in the Harrington cheer squad.

Deciding to take that with pride, he was already here why not embarrass himself a bit more as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and whistles louder then everyone else. Heads turning towards him as he does. Even the whole swim team was looking at him as he hops up on a step like he was giving a speech during lunch. "Kick some ass Harrington!" He doesn't have to yell. His voice is loud and cuts through everyone else's as it echos through the room. He hears a couple of parents yell at him for cursing in front of their precious kin, but he was sure they've heard far worst. A older referee came over and scolding him as well, giving him a warning. Though it was all worth it to watch Steve brighten up. Smiling shyly and growing awkward as the guys on the team tease him about the freak being his cheerleader. Though Steve doesn't care, it was one more person cheering for him then the last fifty competitions he's been to. He would rather take one then none.

Beaming as if the sun was shining out of his ass he waves at Eddie playfully winking before his attention is being forced back to the water. Getting situated in a line as the rules were explained. He stretches his limbs a bit, unaware that he was causing Eddie to have a full blown crisis from behind him. The metal head had been to busy putting up a show to pay attention to what the other was wearing. Now nothing was distracting him from the skin tight black speedo. That did not leave much imagination to the others ass. Eddie was sure if he stared long enough he could see every freckle or dimple on the guys ass and that was going to be a huge problem. Barely able to breathe everything happens so fast. One second Steve is standing dry off to the side and the next he was in the water. Moving ahead of most of the other guys currently in the water. Limbs moving a lot faster then what they normally did when he was with Eddie.

Sure, Eddie's been next to the other numerous times in the water but he had been to busy trying not to die to notice the way the others muscles would flex. The way the water droplets would fall down his skin as he moved, the glossy way his lips looked as he gasped for air. Eddie was not having any clean thoughts as he watched the boy swim. There were numerous other guys he could be staring at right now. Those who were more his type, but instead here he was eye fucking Steve Harrington as he swam like his life depended on it. He's letting out a distressed whine when it's all over and he doesn't understand what's happening. People are up and clapping and he's awkwardly copying what they were doing. Standing up and glancing over at other family's to make sure he was doing this right. Clapping before he's whistling not so loudly as he moves over to a mother who was holding a toddler up.

It's a bit loud as he asks gently, "sorry to bother you, but I don't understand a thing about swim competitions what happened?" He asks. Face a light pink as he keeps clapping his hands. Watching the way the toddler in her arms smiles waving at him. He returns the gesture as the woman hesitates for a second. Surprised that he was asking her of all people. She was young, way to young to be a mother but Eddie didn't really care. Now that he was paying attention he seen the way other mothers were moving their children away from her like they had been for him. She smiles shyly as she shifts the kid to her other hip.

"Well, I don't understand all that much either but the guy you were cheering for got second place." She smiles kindly as Eddie nods giving her a thumbs up.

"Thank you m'aam. This will save me a lot of time." He grins cheerfully as he moves starting to hop down the bleachers. Careful not to slip on the floor that was soaked with water. Moving excitedly to wait near the room Steve would be coming out of. He fidgets with the chains that were constantly clicking around as he watches numerous guys coming out. Until it's finally the person he came for.

Steve's hair was a bit of a mess, damp but very attractive. A tighter polo was on with a pair of loose sweatpants. They didn't really go together but Eddie wasn't going to point that out as he pushes himself off the wall that he was waiting on. Walking right next to the other as he grins.

"So- that was impressive." He beams moving into the others space playfully bumping his shoulder. Steve looks at him with a soft smile growing shy and awkward under the others praise.

"Oh? And what could Eddie Munson, this biggest hater of sports possibly like about my swim competition?" He teases playfully. Moving away from the other for a split second before giving in and letting the other into his space. Running a hand through his hair as he grows nervous under the attention the other was giving him, and the confusion. Unsure if the other was fucking with him or actually enjoyed the competition. Though he regrets even questioning the others reasoning as the other shamelessly becomes more dramatic. Moving his limbs with purpose as he pretends to be in distress.

"Oh Steve Harrington, where should I possibly begin. Oh! The rubber was such an etiquette fashion statement that struck me to the core. The way the water moved down your hairless body had my knees ah shaking and my loins ah screaming. My dreams will be blessed for years and my children will know of this day that changed my life forever. My first born child shall be named after -" Eddies rambling as Steve's face grows red. Quickly he shoves the other playfully to interrupt his speech before fighting back the slight laughter from the fake southern accent. It was embarrassing to listen to the other but it was hilarious.

"Oh shut up you," he returns in a equally horrible southern accent. Grinning as Eddie smiled shyly at him. Moving his hair in front of his face as he does. His mouth had been moving before he could think and he was happy to know that Steve wouldn't hit him the second he came off a bit more gay then normal. But once again that gravitational pull towards Steve made his brain orbit around space, with no thought behind his eye. Which also meant he wasn't thinking of the deadly consequences that could appear from his shameless flirting. Though he was willing to be the Icarus to Steve's sun if that meant he could see the others shy smile as goofy side.

Eddies letting soft laughter go as he shrugs bashfully. Moving a curl behind his ear as they walk out of the school. A silence had fallen between them, it wasn't awkward but rather pleasant. Made Eddie's stomach do flips and made Steve confused. The feeling of something blossoming in Steve Harrington's veins was concerning, and he felt like it was a drug he couldn't kick. The withdrawals from his last love had just kicked and now here he walked with a new craving. A new addiction forming as he walked next to Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson might just become his new bag of cocaine. Hyper and euphoric which would only ruin his heart with long term use. The scary part was Steve couldn't place a name behind the feeling he was having, and like any other addict denial was his first step to realization.

***

With graduation coming up and Steve’s hope of going off to college soon they started to meet a little more frequently for lessons. By this point Eddie was finally able to swim by himself. Not as afraid to be in the deep end they had been able to relax a bit and work on his strength in the water. The lessons went from mandatory to optional and Steve was more then willing to keep taking time for the other. Every day had been filled with flirting and laughs. Shoving each other in the pool and just being boys.

Today on the other hand was different. Steve didn’t really feel like swimming, and if he did he would much rather sit at the bottom of the pool and drown. He had gotten the response papers from every college he applied to and was denied at every single one. Which was some how a record, as every one he knew got denied numerous times but were accepted happily by a community college. Even those didn’t want him. His father had forced him to apply to all of the bigger schools that by times he applied for the community ones they had been filled up already. Now he wasn’t going anywhere but straight to work.

Over the time he’s taught Eddie, the other has been able to read his body language. The way Steve’s shoulders tensed up and the way he sulked walking out of the locker rooms with his trunks and a shirt on said a lot. Steve was a confident guy and never wore a shirt, today the confidence was lackluster at most and Eddie was concerned for him. For someone he dare say be classified as a friend? He smiles gently as he moves to the other catching onto the others reluctance of going into the pool.

“Everything okay Harrington?” Eddie asks curiously. Recognizing that the other got like this sometimes, but normally he would be a little jumpy and anxious. Watching their surroundings. This time he seemed only upset and lost in his head. A quality trait Steve wasn’t known for.

“Yeah- just got denied from every single college I applied for.” He snorts bitterly as he moves to sit on the side of the pool to put his feet in the cold water. Not even that was bringing him much joy. Eddie felt like he was being punched in the gut. He was equally or even more upset then the other because he was upset. If silly, goofy and dopey Steve Harrington was down and gloomy then there was no hope for the rest of the world. The sun mind as well set and the rain clouds should start to form to create a horrible storm. Eddie doesn’t know what to say as he stands there stunned. Out of everyone he would have thought Steve would be the one to leave Hawkins the fastest. Obviously not wanting to be tied down and wanting to travel.

“Oh Stevie,” he says gently. The nickname slipping for the first time as he sits next to the other. Placing a hand on the others shoulder for comfort. Ignoring the way the other grows a bit awkward and tense from the physical contact, obviously not used to it before he’s relaxing. None of the words he wanted to say were coming out. Even if he was able to say them, they would’ve been to intimate for two guys to say to each other. Melting into himself he moves a little closer offering as much as he can. Before he pauses and thinks. “Well let’s get out of here, have you ever smoked before Harrington?” He asks gently.

Steve turns his head at the other with a snort, “We’ve smoked numerous times together Munson.” He says bitterly. Eddie doesn’t take it to heart knowing that there wasn’t any thing mean targeted towards him. Though Eddie grins a mischievous look that causes Steve to melt and forget his troubles just for a split second.

“No Harrington, my dear friend those are cigarettes. I was talking about the sweet leaf, the magnum opus of all natures, the prettiest girl I’ve ever met- Mary Jane, Steve. Have you ever smoked pot?” Eddie asks gently. Watching realization hit the other. Moving his head to stare dumbly at Eddie. Nodding his head after a moment.

“Yeah with Tommy, why-” before he can ask to many questions Eddie is pushing himself up and making a attempt to pull the other up. Grunting as he gives up once he realizes the other was to heavy for him to move.

“Jesus, do you eat Rocks Harrington? Come on? I’ll take you back to mine and smoke you out. You look like you need a smoke.” He laughs gently as he watches Steve hesitate. Before standing up and following instructions. It might have gone to Eddie’s head a little bit with the Jock following and hanging on every instruction he told him. Steve returns a few minutes later and then they are walking out of the school. Steve going to his own car to follow Eddie. Who was absolute chaos when on the road.

Eddies hair was still hanging up in a small bun, something he had prepared for swimming but now it was just up to be up. Enjoying the slight breathe on the back of neck as he hops out of his van. Watching Steve park next to him before waving at him to follow along. Steve had never gone to the Munson residence but it was how he imagined it. It wasn’t that difficult to imagine how Eddie’s room would like either as he was lead there. Not giving much time to take in the rest of the trailer. Steve just follows along feeling a bit like a Zombie.

Moving he sits hesitantly on the others bed as he just listens to the other talk. That was enough to brighten his mood a little. Eddie was like his personal antidepressant right now and he was so grateful. Laughing gently at a joke before he’s handed the joint. That was neatly wrapped and ready. He moves inhaling and releasing the smoke, coughing a bit as it had been a while since he’s properly smoked pot. Handing the thing back to Eddie he lets the other talk his head off. Joking about how Coach Winchester talked to how some of the teachers walked. All of it was goofy and exactly what Steve was looking for. Time started to pass by slowly and the only thing Steve could see was Eddie Munson sitting right in front of him. Glowing, and smiling brightly as his hands waved around like he was orchestrating a orchestra. At some point the giggles start to happen and the two are just making fun of each other. Not in a malicious way.

Huddling closer together as smoke swarmed around them. Making everything blurred together as they either stared at the ceiling or at each other while talking. They both felt like they were finally apart of the solar system that they had been orbiting around for weeks now and it was glorious. Eddies knuckles were constantly brushing up against the others side, and moving up his arm as he talks. Causing goosebumps to form up Steve’s body and shivers to take habitat in his spine. Steve was giggling and laughing at everything as he could barely keep his eyes open for to long anymore.

It’s probably around midnight when the laughter dies down and it turns a bit serious. “Steve?” Eddie says softly.

“Yeah?” He asks gently. Turning his head towards the other but not opening his eyes. That would take to much effort and Eddie found it adorable. With this distance he could see every detail of the others face and he makes a promise to himself that before he dies he was going to paint the others face. Whether it be on a canvas just for him or on a huge wall for the whole world to see exactly what he was seeing. The perfect imperfections of Steve Harrington.

“You have next year you know?” Eddie says gently.

“For what?” Steve asks confused. Forgetting about the reason why he came here in the first place.

“For what?” He asks curiously. Humming as he moves his body a bit to get comfortable on the others bed.

“To well- you know? Apply for college?” Eddie says softly. “If I can repeat senior year for the third time I believe you can make it to a college somewhere.” He breathes out. Breath smelling like weed that hits Steve’s face. Who doesn’t react as he opens his eyes meeting the others eyes. A tension falling in the air. So thick that Eddie thinks he could cut a knife through it. Create a donut like Scooby Doo did in that one episode on the ghost ship. Then the seriousness is all gone as he begins to giggle and laugh, bringing up Scooby Doo seemingly out of nowhere.

****

Just like any star that aligned, they slowly depart from each other. That’s the only way the two boys could describe it. They were close and then slowly drifting apart at sea. Neither of them had seen it coming until it was their last swim lesson. The ache in both of their chests heavy. Eddie knew the reason behind his while Steve felt like a confused child trying to figure it out. Here he sat naive to his and Eddie’s feelings. Both of them growing awkward as they both accepted they wouldn’t see each other anymore. Steve would be going off to work and Eddie would be returning to high-school again next year. Which is exactly how it happens. Eddies unspoken crush starts to blossom more, before withering away. Passing scoops ahoy on purpose, trying to gather courage to walk in and talk to the other. But that was a suicidal mission he quickly discovered.

The uniform Steve Harrington was now wearing had much more cloth then the swim uniform he wore but it still brought an embarrassing reaction out of Eddie who would sneak by to steal glances. Noticing the slight chest hair popping out from the top to the way his shorts made his ass look. Every time he would gather courage to go in and talk, there was always a group of girls talking to Steve Harrington. Who was obviously flirting with them shamelessly.

What was once a gravitational pull became a repellent that Eddie wasn’t sure he could ever be able to push through. And what his great mentor Ozzy had said had come true. Something he was sure him and Steve could prove wrong, even if it meant they were only friends for the rest of their life’s.

Nothing lasts forever

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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soyces · 9 months

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Morning Tea (Johnlock) Pt 2

tags- fluff, angst :)))))

Chapter One(Sherlocks point of view)

I wake up to the sound of the kettle whistling and footsteps. But I don't move because I almost physically cannot, my head is pounding almost as if I were talking to Moriaty or Anderson…god do they give me a headache. I struggle to get up from my bed which seems to be filled with clothes and some sort of wrapper? I put the pieces together and realized that I must have slept with someone from the bar- but these were not only my clothes…but Johns? I sit up rather quickly and scan the room which is quite hard when you feel like you have just been hit in the head with a hammer. I crawl from the bed to my clothes and manage to put my trousers on with much effort and energy. I scatter through the room to find my dressing gown and stumble my way to the loo. As I'm sort of walking I can hear John making his way to the window, I glance at him then quickly look back at him once more. Has he always looked that way? I wasn't sure what he looked like but he looked nice? I don't think I've ever referred to him in that way… I shake my head and try to focus on something important rather than how a person looks. Peeing. Yes, let's try completing that without cracking my skull open. As I walk in I glance in the mirror and realize how dreadful I look so I quickly fix my hair. As I'm looking at myself in the mirror I think about John, specifically what his clothes were doing in my room…did he leave them there? Did he sleep in my room? My brain struggles to put the puzzle together almost like a riddle, I've never liked these guessing games, and was never good at them either. One thought that pops into my head is that maybe John was the “mistress” from last night…but I erased that thought and finished doing my business( i dont think youd want to know the details…) and I stumbled to the kitchen. I tried to stay quiet but ended up tripping on one of my wires connected to my glass capsules filled with something I cannot remember now. But I don't think I want it touching my skin- I hear John say something but it sounds muffled and loud at the same time? I respond

“Shhhh- just…quiet please John” I almost dont recognise my own voice…and my breath is horrible lord- I try to put the kettle on but trip yet again and fall onto the cold kitchen floor. I can hear John rush over to me as he notices the situation. I notice a small smile curl on his face and that's all my mind is filled with. His smile, it's always been there but I'm only now noticing how pleasant it is to look at- I snap back into reality and hear John say something and then I hear myself asking for his help. Then before I know it I'm in my chair and John is hovering over me. I feel a bit annoyed with myself for not being able to make tea for god’s sake- I look around our lounge, looking at all the scattered papers and bullet holes i left in the wall, the faint smell of tea and cigarette smoke lingers in the air. I’m just hungover, big time. I can hear John and Ms Hudson chatting in the kitchen. I've never really seen the point in small talk, if you're going to talk, make it something important, not something about the weather! After I finish complaining to myself I realize John has made me a cup of tea. Eargrey with a little bit of honey. I awkwardly thank him and watch him sit in front of me. We sit in silence as we drink our tea looking at seemingly nothingness before John decides to speak.

“Do you have any memory of last night?” He asks with a certain tone that makes it seem he’s been racking his brain about this topic all morning the same way I have been. There's a pause and I take a breathe then start to speak.

“Well…from what I put together is that we went to a bar…for my birthday. We drank, a lot-”

“Yeah I got that much…”

I sigh “Alright… And we spent a lot of time in the bar and- well..”

“My clothes were in your bed, yes…”

I pause once again, I know he's not an idiot but he seems upset- does he regret it…? I notice he's running his hand through his hair and looking a little more angry but I cannot seem to figure out why… I mean sure the situation is awkward but I don't see a reason to be angry. He puts his mug down and looks up at me, his face is puzzled and upset. I notice him wanting to say something but going silent suddenly.

“Yes…?” I ask to try and make him feel less awkward about saying anything.

“This can never happen again. We are partners, friends, colleagues but we cannot be more-” He says in a tense and angry voice. His words seem to hit me hard and I am unable to understand. My face scrunches up with confusion and a little bit of sorrow.

I open my mouth to say something but stop myself to collect my thoughts that have started spinning in my head like a washing machine. Then I finally said something.

“Do you…regret it, John? I ask, looking at my feet and twiddling with my mug.

He grows silent. Oh god- He regrets last night…

“I-...You wouldnt understand why-” He suddenly speaks with a tense yet soft tone, not looking me in the eye. My stomach sinks…why wouldn't I understand? Is this about Mary…?

“Try me.” I say putting my mug down and clasping my hands together as I lean back in my chair.

He’s still silent, he is not saying anything and it's getting on my nerves. I should be more patient with him. But I can't help getting angry at things I don't understand, especially when it comes to John. Then I hear him sigh and start to say something.

#sherlock fanfic #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #johnlock

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writing-ardent · 7 months

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So I hit the apps again today

I used to be alone. It’s not that I didn’t have friends. I had plenty of those. All kinds of friends. Cool friends, scared friends, sad friends, party friends…you name it. I guess there were a lot of people in my life. A lot of numbers in my phone’s contact list.

But for some reason, it wasn’t enough. Maybe I’m selfish. Maybe I don’t appreciate them for who they are. I don’t know why but, I always feel so empty, even when I’m around the people I care about the most.

That’s why I spent the entire day on dating apps. They’re what everyone seems to be using now a days to find friends, lovers, and a nice quick fuck. Man, I wish I could find any three of those. Whenever I get lucky enough to find one it always turns out to be the things I don’t want at the time.

I really don’t see what’s so good about these apps. Sure I get a lot of hits on them, but they never mean anything. I’m not exactly self conscious about my appearance above the belt, but you know that problem I mentioned before? Yeah. It’s a frustrating numbers game I’ll never hope to win no matter how low I can force my expectations with a few drinks.

I guess this one is a little better. More friendly to pansexuals my friend said. I guess she has a point, but it’s still not really going to get a gold metal from me just for being mediocre instead of outright bad.

It was swipe after swipe. I tried to be optimistic. There were a few cute people here and there. Maybe I’ll finally have a decent conversation that isn’t just a copy paste of the exact same one I had the last time I was on one of these apps.

It’s boring. I really hate it and I don’t even feel excited anymore when I see someone I want to swipe. I guess I’m smart enough not to get my hopes up anymore on a subconscious level.

I decided to take a break and prod around on some other things I have on my phone. Probably not the ibuddy app though. That was one of the biggest wastes of time you’ve ever tried. It felt like you were talking to a brick wall. Advanced robot my ass. You would have a better time talking to the guy on meth that likes to roam around your street at night.

Time to go on the forms you like to surf. Forms isn’t really accurate though. It’s just a subsection of Paradise, which is one of those big companies that used to be a bunch of small ones. Ive lost track of how many are left now. The last time I checked there were three I think?

The forms were much more interesting than the dating app. This was much better. The kind of thing to finally bring my mood up after an exhausting day. Some memes usually cheer me right up. Or they at least come about as close to it as I’m going to get on a REALLY bad day.

There were a lot of good anime ones this time. They aren’t as good as the cute animal videos, but they’re still pretty nice I guess. At least when it’s for a fandom I’m part of and actually know about. If it’s not I have to sit there quietly and pretend like I didn’t see it. It’s pretty rude to like something for a fandom you aren’t in.

It looked like there was a new format I wasn’t aware of. It was little icons of characters sending people text messages, but with some logo in the corner I didn’t recognize. I thought that maybe this was one of those new surreal ones where it looks like it’s normal unless you get the very specific niche joke. This was something I had to look up right away so that I could start spamming all my friends with them. Well, the ones that like these kind of memes anyway.

That was when I got a phone call from my uncle David. David is a nice guy, but he’s pretty out of touch. He’s from the olden days back before we had things like self driving cars and self serving plates. It’s nice though to talk to him sometimes. My friends all think I’m crazy because I still grow my own plants and eat parts of them. He might be a funny guy that doesn’t know how to text, but I love him and he’s great.

“How’s it going Tripp? Did you get that email I sent you?”

“Fine. And yeah, I did.”

This was a lie of course. He sends me so many emails with random articles about things like climate change and animal facts. It’s almost always something I already know and am bored by, but I know it would break his heart if I told him that, so I just go along with it since it’s usually something I’m already aware of anyway.

“Wonderful! I know it’s hard to get a job these days. Hang in there.”

I was about to start my new business this week actually, but that’s not exactly something I talk about in polite company, especially not in front of uncle David.

“Thanks, that means a lot. It’s really hard, you know?”

There’s a pause before he speaks again.

“I know it too well. Did I tell you the story about the strike of twenty thirty five?”

“You did. And it was a really good story. I’m glad you got heating and cooling back. You probably saved a lot of people by doing that.”

“I’m glad you remember it. Listen, I just want you to be ok. Your generation is out future you know.”

“I know.”

He’s said that a thousand times now. Everyone his age is always saying things like that. I’m surprised I didn’t end up seeing one of the thousands of memes about the kind of things old people say before I picked up the phone actually.

“Did your kale grow any bigger yet?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to eat it! That shit is so good!”

“I have another plant for you if you want it.”

Oh no. Not another plant. I have so many of them that I don’t have any room left for another one. This was something uncle David is known for. While I love to learn about plants from him, he also seems to have an endless supply that he won’t stop giving people. And the worst part is that I can never stop myself from saying no to another one because god damn it, I just love plants ok?!

“Oh damn, that’s great! I’m free Tuesday if you want to bring it over!”

“That sounds great. I’ll talk to you later. Murphy wants to play.”

“Please let him and throw a frisbee for me!”

“I will. Talk to you later. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hung up the phone and sighed. It was nice talking with uncle David, but I always just feel so drained after I do it every time. I’m not really sure why. I love him and he really shouldn’t be this hard for me to talk to, but he just is.

God damn it, I was going to need more coffee. I pull up a delivery app on my phone. The nearest place was probably be the quickest. I typed in what I wanted on my phone and went to my porter. It’s actually a porter printer hybrid, but I don’t use the printer part of it very often because art just isn’t really my thing and those machines are way too complicated.

It didn’t take long for the coffee to show up. It’s pretty easy to port things when there’s nothing organic in them. It’s why most foods are synthetic now a days. This way we can have something delicious whenever we want it. If you ask me, that is an amazing invention.

I sipped the coffee. It was burned. But that’s pretty much what I would expect from a fast food place. They aren’t exactly known for being quality, but the upscale franchises are too far away and I was kind of lazy that day.

I looked out the window. It’s was a nice day in the ocean. That’s the window I picked out. It was either that or the neon pink one with the anime girl on it. I figured I would go for the more tasteful option even if it was kind of surreal. Oh who am I kidding. I was drunk when I picked it. Still one of the best decisions of my life.

I finally remembered what I was going to do before uncle David called. I was going to finally look up what that weird as fuck meme was about. I can’t believe it slipped my mind so easily on that day. I guess I’m just easily distractible like that.

I decided to check out the Paradise page of the one who posted the latest version of the meme. That’s usually the best way to find out what an in joke is if you don’t have enough information to search an actual archived wiki for it. Paradise always loads faster anyway because they shell out the big money to ISPs that nonprofit archives can never even hope to scramble together.

They were talking about how they made it using this new app. It was called DJINN. Weird name for an app. Kind of made me think of the genie from Aladdin or something out of an RPG. That was a weird name for a shitposting app, but hey I’ve seen weirder. Penguin was definitely an experience.

Might as well check it out. I decided to just click the link directly. It probably wasn’t a virus if this many people were using it and I was way too lazy to try to dig up the wiki. Sponsored links didn’t have the same lagging problem because Paradise got money from it if you clicked.

When the page finally loaded, I almost spat out my coffee.

#daily posts #thoughts #unreality #nanowrimo #love #scifi #mentions of sex

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niaswish · 8 months

Text

For Want of Common Sense

Chapter 7 Summary:

In need of a distraction while he walked through his worst nightmare, Wato solves the Quartering Duke Cases. Then finds the detectives.

Chapter 7: As the first Ideal Detective, he was going to lecture Seika on the need for some common sense.

As he walked, Wato went over the information on the Quartering Duke's cases. He needed something to focus on while he walked through the maze that once imprisoned him, and it had been the reason for the DA to gather so many detectives. It would take him at least a few hours to get through to where the others were, even if he met them on the way.

At least this time, he wouldn't have to worry about the sentries.

Wato heard them before he saw them, Posh's voice loud even through the wall. With a smile of relief -the dots had been comforting but nothing could beat seeing them in person- he reached out and activated the hidden door. It slid open with a low grinding noise which drew everyone's attention.

The last bit of his worries slid off his shoulders as he finally saw them. They were all alive. They were... He frowned as he saw Senior. The old man was cuffed and had new bandages over his forearms. Then it clicked and he sighed, it was another piece of evidence confirming his deductions.

He had no more time to think about Senior as something slammed into him, forcing him back a step. "Wato! I thought you died!" Seika hugged him tightly. "How? Your room was completely gone by the time Rowdy smelt the smoke! How are you alive?"

Wato hesitated a moment before reaching out to rub her back soothingly. "And here I thought you weren't as much of a crybaby as back then." He tried to keep a teasing tone to his words but he was worried about her.

"Back then?" Seika suddenly jerked away, eyes red from barely held tears but firmly searching. "Did you...?"

"Get my memories back?" Wato finished with a nod. "Some. Enough to know we're going to need to talk about things once we get out."

Before he could say anything else, someone started clapping from the back of the group. "How touching." Renegade declared dramatically, "As disappointing as I find your survival, Incompetent, perhaps you could explain how you managed to escape the flames?"

"Renegade!" Workaholic snapped at the man. Posh just a moment behind in her recrimination.

Still, the interruption was enough for Seika to step away from him and regain her composure. As she turned to deal with the brewing argument Renegade had started, Armor and Rowdy came over. "Glad ta see ya alive, Incompetent." Rowdy smiled awkwardly before suddenly bowing to Wato. "Sorry for not being able to protect ya!"

Wato was taken aback by her words, doubly so when Armor followed suit a moment later. "What? No! It's fine. I'm sure you did everything you could." Wato scrambled to wave their apology off. "If anything, I should be thanking both of you for protecting everyone since then. I'm sure it can't have been easy." That seemed to do the trick as Rowdy and Armor started sputtering that they were just doing their jobs.

A few minutes later, Wato found himself explaining what he'd been doing since last night. "I survived the fire last night because I wasn't in the manor to begin with. Long story short, I snuck out of the manor shortly after checking in on Mystic to call for help from the DA."

" 'Snuck out but how?' The girl demanded more information from the source of her confusion."

Wato smiled, "The same way I first entered the manor." He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at the blank stares the detectives were given him. "Honestly, none of you have any common sense."

He turned to address Bookworm and Techie specifically, "Both of you should learn from this, and work on always keeping up with what is considered common sense, unlike these guys."

Posh's outraged demands for an explanation was ignored as Wato returned to his explanation. "Look, none of you ever asked me how I got into the manor, even after I told you that the main door was part of a trap meant to kill Senior and whoever opened it in the first place." He turned to the old man and Downtown, "Which was part of a suicide pact between you two, right?"

"How?" Downtown gasped.

"Because it was too similar to the Quartering Duke's cases. All of which were mutually assured suicides." Wato's declaration stunned the group.

Seika's smile was proud and affectionate as she murmured, "I knew you could do it." In a louder voice, she asked, "Do you have proof of this?"

Wato shook his head, "Not yet but I know how to get conclusive proof. And that's on top of whatever testimony those two are going to give about their involvement with the Duke." He motioned towards Downtown and Senior. The rest of the group, minus Renegade, suddenly started demanding explanations from him until Seika raised her voice to put an end to it.

When she motioned for him to continue, Wato did so. "We can discuss the Quartering Duke case on our way back. To finish my explanation, I managed to get to your boat and use the radio to contact the DA. They should have sent a rescue team by now, though I have no idea when they might arrive. I... kinda panicked when I noticed the smoke and realized the manor was burning. I told them as much, then bolted, only to find the manor more or less destroyed by the time I arrived." He scratched his cheek in embarrassment.

"Well, I am very glad you were not hurt." Workaholic sighed. "However, I have a lot of questions to ask you as we walk. So please don't stray too far, alright?"

Wato ducked his head in a quick nod, he figured something like that would happen. He could hear Seika giggling at his situation by his side, yet couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed. He was just glad to have found everyone safely.

#tantei bokumetsu #process of elimination #Wato has common sense

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swtki · 3 years

Text

Enemy - E. C

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Vampire! Fem! Reader

Summary: Edward meets his seductress once again

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, banter between muses, femdom, Sub! Edward, not in an alternate universe just set in the seventies, Volturi! Reader, oral (m), mention of Edward being killed, swearing of course, Vaginal sex, kinda dubcon but not really? Public alley sex.

A/N: Edward smut is hard you mfs better love this.

If he had a working heart, he was sure it would be pounding so loud the whole city could hear. He sat on his balcony, eyes scanning the crowded Paris streets. To find her, the woman who was to destroy him. Alice had warned him just a week ago, her vision being one of chaos and pain. Behind it all, was a womans face. Not just any face however, it was Y/N. A member of the Volturi, whose heart was set on pulling him limb from limb. Everyone in the house had decided it would be best if Edward were to depart from their permanent home, flee to Paris for a short time. He was akin to being alone, but to be alone while watching over your back 24/7 was not the same. While he hated every second of his existence; He knew that if he were to give up and let her kill him, she would surely only continue to his family. He couldn’t let that happen, so he kept moving in the shadows. She wouldn’t move on until she had his head.

He racked his brain, trying to figure out a long term plan as this could only work for so long. She was strong, killing her wouldn’t be easy nor would it be something he wanted to do. Perhaps he could change her mind, he could talk her down from her dedication.

He sighed, walking into the main room and grabbing his jacket.

He needed to eat.

The elevator ride down was slow, and he tapped his finger against his thigh. How he hated human life, but at the same time desired it more than anything. Tedious elevators, the need to eat every single day, the need to sleep. The doors finally slid open, allowing him to walk down the lobby and out of his building.

The street was unusually crowded at this time, the past five days the streets were deserted as soon as the clock struck nine-pm. He couldn’t run to the closest forrest or country plaine, he needed to leave the area before they could see him take off.

So, he started walking. Voices filled his head - the French didn’t try to hold back compared to Americans. Thats when he realized, it was friday night. There were people flooding the streets. More specifically, humans flooding the streets.

“Shit.” He breathed out, knowing that he’d not only have to cancel his meal, but interrupt someone else's. He started walking to the loud music, cursing himself for being this stupid. Who other than Edward Cullen would want to find his potential murderer?

As people danced to the music, he slid toward the bar. He ordered a beer to maintain face amongst the others around him.

“Merci.” He started to turn back to the dancing bodies, but stopped when he heard the order the bartender was receiving.

“Un whisky et un verre de ce champagne.“ The man said, waiting for his drinks to be prepared. Thats when Edward realized. He had ordered champagne. Both the human man and the bartender had thought it was weird someone would order champagne in a club like this. But she always ordered champagne, always. It was what she would tell her victims to order before she took them outside.

He watched the man take the drinks, hoping he was wrong about the partner. He cursed as he realized he wasn’t. She drank, flirted, and of course lured him outside. Throwing some coins on the bartop, he quickly followed. But, he was too late. Her body was flush against the human mans, she was having a bloody good meal. Edward would be lying if he didn’t debate joining her.

“I see you’re still denying your nature.” She pulled off of him, letting the body drop as she stood still.

“I see you’re still wearing red so you don’t need to worry about stains.” He replied. She smiled and turned to him, looking him from head to toe. “I don’t know why you still despise me after all these years, Y/N.” her smile faded.

“Despise you? No, Edward I quite admire you.” She walked over to him and pressed her hand to his shoulder, “I really do think you’re one of the strongest of our kind. You could be stronger, but you suppress yourself. You drink rats blood, while I drink how our kind is meant to. Shame, really.” She walked behind him and her hand wrapped around his neck. He couldn’t move, her powers overtook him. “Imagine the life you and I could lead if you would just submit”. He shuddered at the last word. He was always a sucker for her when it came to seduction and she knew it.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much. I just want the natural order to be restored.” She smiled and kissed his neck sofly. “Imagine yourself, in Italy with the most powerful of our kind. You could have me every night - for the rest of eternity.” his eyelashes fluttered as she continued kissing his neck. “Do you want to see how good it would feel to be with me every night?”

“Please.” He whimpered. Thats all she needed to release him from her grasp and push him against the dark brick wall. Their lips connected as if they were puzzle pieces, moving in perfect harmony with each other. She pulled away, slithering down on her knees, she was going to make him realize how much he needed her.

“Shall I?” She asked, running her hand up his thigh softly.

“Yes, God, please.” Edward begged, she loved hearing him beg for her touch.

“You always were weak when it came to sex, wonder if you still moan at the smallest, little,” Her hand groped his growing cock. His stomach fluttered with pleasure, and he couldn’t hold his moan, “Touch. Edward, you can read my mind, you can see what I have planned.” He looked inside her head, seeing the pleasure she could inflict upon his body if he would just wave a white flag.

As she took off his trousers, he debated surrendering or not. Was she worth living a life he wanted nothing more than to shun? Every time they saw each other, the sex was electric almost. She made him feel like a prey being hunted by a predator, and he loved that. As much as he hated to admit it, part of the reason he kept turning down the offer was because he didn’t want to ruin the cat and mouse relationship. He knew she loved the chase, that was why she was so persistent. But did he still feel a hatred towards her? Yes. He had seen her slaughter entire groups because she didn’t get her way. But tonight, he decided, he would wave a white flag and lower it once the sun rose.

He snapped back to reality, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of his briefs, looking up at him through her long lashes. He looked down, beginning to place his hands on her head, but was stopped by her pinning him to the wall. Her gift was useful in many situations.

Tugging down, she smiled when his dick was finally isolated. He was all hers tonight, he was painfully hard for her and only her. Her hand grasped the shaft, pumping a few times before licking a long stripe up. He made a moan of pleasure and she rewarded him with taking his length down her throat. She gagged and felt his hips buck, making her withdrawal.

“Wait-” He began.

“No, you broke the rules. What did I tell you about greed, Edward?”

“That it had no place in our sex life.” She smiled and stood, slapping his cheek a few times.

“Dress. We’ll be going to my hotel room, you may not deserve anything, but I do.” He rushed to pull up his pants and follow her.

She pushed him down on the bed as soon as the door was shut, lifting her dress up, she straddled him.

“Imagine, you agree and this is every night for the rest of our time.” Pulling down his pants she spat on her hand and guided him to her slick cunt. He slid in with ease, making her eyes roll into her skull. He could hear her mind scramble as she slowly rocked her hips. “Feel so fucking good, shame you have to be so fucking stupid.”. He was sure if he had blood he would have just bitten it and bled out. She was so fucking hot, watching her nails dig into his firm stomach. He adored her from this angle, especially when she didn’t even bother to to take her clothes off.

“Can I touch you, please?” She smiled and nodded, letting his hand move so his thumb could skillfully rub her clit, making the coil in her stomach tighten. Her movements got faster, and he heard her mind beg for more. He slightly lifted his hips while continuing his fingers. Her orgasm washed over her, causing her to scream out in pure bliss. She stopped her hips, swinging her leg over his body and straightening her dress. He looked at her in confusion, he still hadn’t cum.

“You can cum when you agree to join me. I had my fun, now leave.” She said coldly. He pulled his pants back up, stumbling back to the apartment he had spent every night and day in. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider saying yes to her.

As long as it was her

—

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#edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen x reader smut #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen smut #headcannons twilight #twilight smut #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson smut #edward cullen fanfic

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christowhore · 3 years

Text

Redeeming Myself

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader

summary: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, chris makes it his mission to prove to you how much you mean to him.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is 29, chris is 40), angst, reminiscing on past actions, fluff, talks with therapist, chris makes up for bad behavior, slight alcohol consumption, smut, happy endings, rpf !!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!!

notes: the final installment of Pining for Professor. it was only supposed to be a one shot, but i got inspired and expanded it. it took a while cause writers block, but it’s here. for anyone who has read the series, thank you and hope you enjoy ! 💓🥰

i do not allow the reposting, rewriting or translating of my fics. these are works of my own and i do not give permission for any of the acts stated above.

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SERIES MASTERLIST • MAIN MASTERLIST

For a month and a half following that afternoon, Chris began to go above and beyond to mend his mistakes in an effort to regain your trust.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been forgiven for the hurtful words he hurled at you, the voice he raised, and his cold demeanor through it all. But you forgave him nonetheless, which he was eternally grateful for.

Chris suspected that his venom-laced words still took a toll on your overall being. He sensed it in the way your usual humming was kept to a minimum, as did your soft caresses to his body. The fun facts that you would randomly blurt out had basically become nonexistent.

You hadn’t tried initiating sex with Chris due to still being affected by his actions, which was understandable to the brunette.

He could tell you were being cautious around him, which broke his heart more than he could’ve imagined.

The two of you never really talked in depth about what happened, deciding to push it under the rug and move past it. But ignoring the elephant in the room could only last for so long.

That morning was no different. He had spent the night at your place and decided to wake up and make you breakfast in an effort to mend the faltering relationship.

You woke up to an empty bed, something that you were used to since Chris had always been an early riser. Getting your morning routine out the way, you made your descent downstairs with the smell of pesto guiding you down the steps.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw the sight of your topless boyfriend, donning only a pair of boxers and an apron. You watched as he studiously focused on the skillet in front of him. His intense focus and the sounds of eggs frying in the pan made him oblivious to your arrival.

It wasn’t until you made your way towards the fridge next to him, that he registered your presence. “Morning princess, you sleep well.”

“Yeah, I slept fine,” your voice still a bit gravely from your slumber. You poured yourself a glass of orange juice, ignoring the intense gaze from Chris in your peripheral vision.

He was so used to having you touch him in the mornings. Not so much in a sexual way, but more intimately. The way your lips would ghost against his shoulder blade, your palms would hold his sides and pull him against you so that way you could bask in his warmth. Your arms would wrap around his front until your fingers absentmindedly toyed with his lower abdomen, playing with the wisps of hair on his happy trail.

He missed when you would move your lips until they met the space behind his ears, giving light open mouth kisses. The sound of you whispering ‘Morning daddy’ would leave him awestruck. Even though the words were a regular occurrence for him to hear, it was the way you would say it in your morning voice that made it ten times more special.

Though those actions might seem minuscule to others, they meant the world to him and it was killing him that he hadn’t been able to experience such tender moments with you in a while.

“I’m making breakfast- pesto eggs and some bacon for you. It’ll be done in a minute.”

You nodded along before heading to the table, phone in hand while catching up on your morning news.

It didn’t take long before a steaming plate was placed in front of you, the scent of garlic and basil already making you salivate.

Chris sat besides you and watched as you dug a fork into your meal, a smile reaching his face as he heard your content moans.

The two of you ate in silence, only the sound of soft chewing and utensils hitting your respective plates could be heard.

Every so often, you would feel Chris peek at you, hoping for you to start up a conversation with him like you always did. It’s not like you didn’t want to, it was just that you were still hurting due to his words. You know from a psychological standpoint that there was something going on inside of him that caused him to lash out, which you understood. But it didn’t aid in diminishing your apprehensiveness towards opening up to him, afraid that another fight would break out and hurtful words would again be hurled.

He could sense the internal struggle battling within you so he spoke up, breaking you out from your subconscious.

“I know I’ve been saying this repeatedly over the past few weeks, but I want you to know how sorry I am,” Chris sympathetically stated, “You didn’t deserve what I put you through, the things I said. I just hope that we're able to someday go back to how we were.”

You sat there staring at the man in front of you. Was there a way that the two of you can revert to what once was? Could you actually forgive him?

Not knowing how to properly respond, you simply nodded. A tight lipped smile was evidence that Chris had a lot of making up to do.

Finishing up breakfast, you excused yourself to your office to go and work on your dissertation, leaving the brunette alone with his thoughts.

He knew that he needed to do something big to make up for his actions. He also knew that he needed to figure out why he lashed out on you.

Taking out his phone, he clicked on a saved contact and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear.

“Morning, I’d like to make an appointment as soon as possible. It’s an emergency.”

Chris sat on the plush maroon couch, his eyes getting reacquainted with the familiar setting. The office had a few knick knacks littered around the space. A potted plant here and there. Motivational, yet cheesy posters on the wall. An assortment of magazines on the coffee table.

He hadn’t been here in a while, his usual talks were about his anxiety and dealing with fame. But for this appointment it was about you- specifically how he treated you.

The new topic was foreign to him, resulting in the brunette not knowing how to address it. So he silently sat there as his therapist, Dr. Reynolds, held her pen in her hand and studied his behavior.

“So,” she cautiously started, “What brings you in today?”

Chris sat there twiddling his fingers at her question. There could’ve been a few reasons that brought him in, but the main one was why he said the things he hurled at you.

He proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes recapping the events that had transpired, making sure to not spare any detail. After his spiel, Dr. Reynolds skimmed through her notes that she jotted down during his explanation.

Looking up from her notebook, she locked eyes with the brunette. “Do you think that some of your actions correlate with self-sabotaging behaviors? How, when you opened yourself up to her so suddenly it made you feel scared? Scared that you might need to face those fears that are plaguing you.”

Chris sat there incredulously, “Well- I mean no. I don’t think so.”

The pair talked for over an hour, going over the usual allotted time as they broke down why Chris had acted a certain way.

He realized the anger he felt was a coping mechanism to avoid feeling what he truly felt: fear. Mainly his fear of commitment. Part of him was scared that any future marriage would end up like his parents, in divorce. He feared that you would stop loving him. He feared that he would stop loving you.

And that fear was ultimately pushing you away from him. Which uncovered the biggest fear of all, losing you.

Dr. Reynolds eventually received a knock on her door, indicating a waiting patient, causing their therapy session to be cut and saved for another day.

“Thanks doc, I think I know what I need to do now.”

After some much needed self-reflection made in the meeting with his therapist, Chris knew what he had to do. Leaving the office, he pulled out his phone and dialed his publicist, Megyn.

A few rings later, he went into detail to the blonde about his plan. Not caring about what the press might say, or how his fans might react, he needed to get it done.

She wasn’t too keen on dealing with the impending press that would come from it, but she was happy that he was able to find someone that he truly loved.

He went back to your place that evening with a refreshed mind. The rest of the day went by as usual, you both did your own respective things, the tension still heavy in the air.

As you both started on your own night routine, his main focus was on you. He didn’t even know he stopped brushing and was staring until you snapped your fingers in front of his eyes.

“Earth to Chris, everything alright?” your tone was light and airy, hinted with a bit of joy.

Chris looked at the slight smile on your face and was reminded all over again as to why he fell for you. That smile was something that was so ingrained in his mind that not even old age could make him forget it. It warmed his entire being whenever he was sad and it made him realize he could never take it off your face for the rest of his days.

“Yeah princess,” he whispered, still lost in you, “I’m alright.”

You nodded along to him, though your eyes squinted a bit due to being curious of his change in demeanor. Before he was overly cautious around you, now it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Before you could set your toothbrush down and set out for bed, he stopped you with a hand on your elbow, pulling you into him. Not caring that there were still dribbles of toothpaste in his mouth, he leant down and attached his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, he was desperate to feel your softness against him though wasn’t trying to rush the act in any way. Moving his hand up, he held onto your cheek in an effort to pull you even closer than you already are.

The smell of your lavender night cream instantly calmed him, making him feel safe in your embrace and absentmindedly smiling into the kiss.

Chris finally pulled away, only slightly, to look down on you with a dopey grin. “God I’m in love with you.”

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile reached your face to match the man across from you.

“I love you too love bug,” you sighed against his lips, “You probably should’ve rinsed your mouth though, I can taste your toothpaste.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, just got caught up in the moment.”

Chris kept you secured in his arms as he continued to stare down at you. There was something different about him, specifically the way his gaze was directed at you. Though you were not complaining.

“How about we bring back date night? I can cook and we can finally sit and talk to one another like we used to.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his pleas. It had been a while since you two sat down and basked in each other’s presence. The thought had you hopeful that things could go back to normal.

“I would love that,” you began, “How about Friday? I have a test for a few of my classes this week so we can do it once I’m all free.”

Chris smiled down at you with eyes evident of his admiration for you, “Friday is perfect.”

The rest of the week went on rather differently than previous ones. Your touches came back to his body, fingertips grazing alongside him whenever he was close. Chris would regularly kiss your cheek or top of your shoulder anytime he had the chance.

You did take notice of him on his phone a lot, part of it filled you with uneasiness but the rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t something to ponder too much over, so you let it go.

Chris had been spending the entire week making sure that his plan was rolling smoothly. He had the entire date night planned to a T. He informed his family about it, who were ecstatic for him, making his own mother tear up due to how happy she was. He made sure to have everything ready at the house so that everything would be successful.

The day of the planned affair, you were stuck in your home office grading the last set of tests before being able to officially clock out for the evening. Inputting the grades into Blackboard, you were brought out of focus due to the sounds of buzzing from your phone. Picking up the device, you unlocked it and saw the incoming text from your boyfriend.

Chris: Baby, I know you’re still probably finishing up, but dinner will be ready at my place at around 7. I put something on your bed for you to wear. See you soon!

The endearing message made you smile and also feel a bit elated. You missed the intimate moments shared between you and Chris. The loving looks sent your way, the delicious food and engaging conversations. But most importantly, you missed the sex. Before, the two of you were like jackrabbits, the longest you both went without getting hot and heavy was about 2 days. Now going on over two months, you were becoming insatiable.

Quickly inputting the final test scores in your online grade book, you got ready for your night in with Chris. Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room to be hit with a bit of nostalgia. Laying on the bed was the same black dress that you wore on your first date with him.

With the amount of dresses you had in your wardrobe, it was a shock that he was able to find the specific one you wore that night. The sentiment warmed your heart and filled you with hope.

Rushing to get ready, you went and got dressed, making sure that you appeared your best before heading out.

It was only a quick drive to his home, before you were sat in his driveway.

Your mind was plagued with worry. You feared that if this night didn’t go well, then it would ultimately mean the end of your relationship with the man. Taking in a deep breath, you calmed your nerves before exiting the vehicle and made the trek towards his front door.

Using the house key you still had attached to your own ring set, you unlocked the door and walked in though you didn’t get far when the sight before you made you stop and gasp.

Starting from the front door laid a trail of rose petals leading you through the house. The thoughtful effort made tears begin to form in your eyes and your breath unsteady.

Following the trail, the same smells of vegetables sautéing brought you back to that time over a year ago.

Once you made it inside the kitchen, you saw Chris with an apron adorning his massive frame on top of his suit. Once he took notice of your arrival he turned around and smiled at you. “There you are sweetheart. I was waiting for you to show.”

He turned down the fire before gliding towards you, about to reach down and kiss you when you beat him to it.

Grabbing a hold of either side of his face, you slammed your lips to his; the action surprising you both. You delivered him repeated pecks which caused the brunette to laugh between every one of your kisses.

Getting enough of your intimate fill, you pulled away from him and looked up. “What’s the special occasion? I mean I know it’s date night, but still.”

Chris brought his hands down to rest on the dip of your back before pulling you in closer to him. The action caused your neck to crane up to look directly into his eyes.

“I wanted to make things right with my best girl.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the slight Captain America reference before delivering another kiss, “Thank you, I love it.”

The meal went according to plan, the two of you enjoying the same shrimp scampi dish he made on your first date together.

You were sipping on your glass of wine when you heard Chris speak up.

“Though I’ve said it more times than either of us can count, I need you to know how regretful I am of how I acted.”

You sighed at his words, “Chris, I said it’s-”

“No, it’s not okay (Y/N),” he interrupted you, “It wasn’t okay for me to lash out at you. It wasn’t okay for me to hurt your feelings.”

“Tonight, I tried to recreate our first date together to show you just how much you mean to me.”

Chris had rehearsed what he was planning on saying for the past few days, but here now in this moment he couldn’t remember a single prepared line. So he just decided to follow his heart.

“(Y/N). The day I met you, it was one of the greatest days of my life. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but fate brought us together- well I guess I should say Ma did with her insisting.”

His words caused you to chuckle, “I can see where you got your determination. She really didn’t quit until she finally got us in the same room.”

The memory of Lisa bringing you two together that afternoon warmed both of your hearts.

“That day we met was the day I knew that there was no one else in the world that would matter to me as much as you would. Every single day that I get the pleasure of seeing that look on your face will forever make me the luckiest man on the Earth. So when I hurled those words at you and took that smile away, it made me feel horrendous.”

You didn’t even realize you had started crying until you felt the warmth of your tears sliding down your cheeks.

Chris reached across the table and curled his fingers around your hand, slightly stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend that I could be. I realized that my own fears of commitment caused me to take out my frustrations out on you, and absentmindedly pushed you away. But I realized that pushing you away was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”

He felt his heart rate race and his organ beat heavily in his chest, his anxiety slowly rising.

“You are the greatest thing to happen to me. You make the worst days seem minuscule whenever you’re around. I love the way you’re able to always help push me through any obstacle I face, no matter how big or small it may be. The way you easily get along with my crazy family. And I love how you make me feel like I am floating on cloud nine anytime I kiss you.”

Chris felt his hands begin to sweat. One of his hands clasped onto yours, while the other held onto the small box in his left pocket of his slacks.

“A few days ago I had a session with my therapist about you. And during it I realized how much I care about you, and how losing you, even though it was brief, was the worst thing I had ever experienced.”

Slowly standing up on shaky legs, he brought you up with him.

“I had to secretly figure out the right size while you were sleeping the other night,” he began to joke, “You don’t know how hard it was to get the measurement done considering how light of a sleeper you are.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest. You suspected that something was different about his behavior and this evening, and your suspicions were slowly coming to light.

“I can’t ever experience the feeling of not having you by my side again. Waking up to a cold bed and not seeing the way your nose would sometimes crunch up while you're deep in a dream is something I never want to go through again.”

Chris reached into his pocket of his pants and pulled out a cherry red box. The sight of the gold inscription labeling 'Cartier' made your breath catch in your throat and tears fall freely down your face.

The height difference was changed when he steadily dropped down on his left knee, his tear filled blue eyes looking up at you.

“(Y/N), you make me the happiest man in the world. And I know it’s a stereotypical line for me to say, but it’s true. I love how you’re able to bring the best out of me and everyone around you. I love how you love everyone unconditionally. God, I love how fucking breathtaking you are. I am in love with everything about you.”

Letting go of your hand, he held the box in his grasp before cracking it open. The action caused your hands to cover your mouth and you to bend at the knees. With the aid of the lights around the room, it unveiled to you a marquise cut diamond. One either side were two stones. On the left was a pearl, indicating his June birthstone. The other side showed your gemstone, the rocks pairing perfectly with one another.

“So,” Chris began with a shaky breath, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you do me the honor and make me the luckiest person in the world. Will you marry me?”

Your body shook with sobs as you nodded along to his question.

“Wait, are you saying yes?” Chris asked, excitement evident in his tone. “I don’t know if that’s you nodding yes or no.”

Removing your hands from your face you grasped on to your now fiancé’s, “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

Chris didn’t even get the chance to put the ring on you before raising up and slamming his lips against yours. Both of you tasting the salty tears that expelled from the other.

It was his turn to lay a continuous stream of kisses to your lips. Soft chants of ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth between every one.

Pulling away, he retrieved the ring from its box as you held up your left hand. You watched as he slid the band down your finger until it situated perfectly against the base. A content sigh left the both of you.

Chris brought your hand up and kissed the back of it and then your ring finger before locking eyes with you.

You two stayed like that for a while, your gaze flicking back and forth between each other’s lips until finally you two connected them.

This time, the embrace was intimate, more passion filled. Your hands folded against the nape of his neck, the coolness of the gold band making him smile with contentment.

With his hands holding onto your hips, he guided you back until you were met with resistance from the wall behind you; the sudden force causing you to lightly grunt into his mouth.

Lowering his hands until his palms rested on the back of your thighs, he tapped on your skin, an unspoken request for you to jump. While securing your hold on his neck, you jumped up and rested in his palms. With you in his hands, Chris began to walk the two of you towards his bedroom. Since Dodger was staying at his mom's house, he didn’t bother closing the door, not worrying about any sudden intrusion.

Your mouth was still attached to Chris when he laid you down, you head against the soft pillow on the plush bed. His frame towering over you as he shook off the suit jacket from his body, kicked off his shoes and toed his socks away.

“I love you so much (Y/N),” he swooned through kisses.

“I love you too Chris.”

Untying the front of your wrap dress, the silk material fell to the sides of your body, revealing your figure which was only covered by a thin, lace pair of underwear. The sight of your half naked self made him growl down at you in desire.

Removing his lips from yours, he descended down your body, leaving kisses in his wake.

“You’re all mine.”

His lips kissed around your taut nipple, his tongue poking out to flick at your pert bud.

“Forever and always.”

You felt him leaving traces of wetness from open-mouth kisses on your abdomen.

“The love of my life.”

His fingers dug into the sides of your thong before dragging it down your legs.

“My beautiful fiancé.”

You breathing hitched as you felt his warm breath fan across your exposed cunt. The hot air was a stark contrast to the cool slick of your dripping wetness.

“The future Mrs. Evans.”

And with that, Chris flattened out his tongue before running a long stripe up your pussy, lapping up your wetness until he curled it around your clit. “Oh fuck, Chris.”

How exhausting the sexual hiatus that you experienced with the brunette was evident due to how you were squirming on the bed. Your hands spread throughout the sheets, gripping and tugging in an effort to gain some form of steadiness. Over two months without having him on you had you mewling into the air. “Please baby, don’t stop.”

With his tongue occupied, Chris continued to devour you. His tongue alternated between long drags and quick flicks between your folds. You felt the tip of his tongue prod at your opening in a desperate attempt to taste more of you- to feel more of you.

Removing his mouth, he heard you begin to groan in disappointment before it turned into a moan when he spat on your cunt then suctioned his lips around your clit. With one hand holding your stomach down, he used the other to enter your soaking hole with his index and middle fingers.

Chris was gentle with his digits inside of you, dragging his pads alongside your ways, stroking your contracting walls and feeling every ridge. Once he was knuckle deep, he scissored your cunt, basking in the sounds of your squelching around his fingers paired with your content moans of relief.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, using the limb to draw slow, tortuous circles on your mound as he watched you fall into the deep recesses of ecstasy.

He observed your neck stretch back, exposing a slightly bulging vein running up the expanse. The way your lips quivered as your moans flew freely out. Your legs began to shake when he hit the spot he was all too familiar with deep in your core.

“Look at me,” Chris demanded, his Boston accent evident in his request, “Need’a watch my pretty girl cum all over my fingers.”

The eye contact with the brunette was intense, more fierce than ever experienced before, but you reveled in every second of it. You noticed how his pupils had become blown out, only showing a small ring of blue surrounding the black.

You tried to keep the gaze locked until you felt your orgasm come full force through your body like a tidal wave. “Christopher!”

Upon hearing your screech of desire and feeling your essence begin to soak his digits, he replaced his thumb back with his mouth, longing to taste every single drop of your sweetness. His fingers continued to pump inside of you, prolonging your release and causing more of your juices to flow into and around his mouth.

Chris finally removed his fingers to drink more of you until you attempted to feebly push his head away, the orgasm causing you to lose most of your strength.

“Sorry princess, you know Daddy just can't get enough of you,” Chris moaned as he licked your essence off his lips.

He rose up your lower half and hovered over you staring down at your exhausted self. You mustered the power to raise your arms and grasp his face in your hands before bringing him down to connect lips once more.

The kisses were lecherous, the both of you yearning to taste every single part of the other. Your tongue was firm against his as he massaged yours while you swallowed each other's moans.

Your body felt on fire with the way his large hands were massaging and caressing every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers digging into your softness and pulling you flush against his frame.

Taking your hands away from his face, you began to unbutton his dress shirt, peeling away the material until it unveiled his tattooed chest. Your fingers tracing the large design on his chest before making its way down to his belt, unbuckling it in the process.

Dragging the leather through the loops and away from his body, you unzipped his trousers before reaching in to palm his obvious erection. The action made the man above you keen against your tongue. “I wanna taste you Chris.”

With your thighs around his hips, you nudged him until your positions were switched. His head against the same pillow, he watched as you tugged down the material on his lower half, leaving the two of you completely bare for one another.

You laid down on your stomach between his legs before grabbing hold onto the base of his cock, drawing a hiss from Chris.

His head craned back at the feel of your wet mouth tonguing his length, the wet muscle licking a stripe from the base to his tip. “Ohh- that's it baby.”

You collected your spit before it dripped from your mouth and on his head, the liquid cascading down the massive length. Using it for your advantage, you began to stroke him while attaching your lips around his tip. Your tongue flicked his slit while drinking up his precum.

“God, I love you so much (Y/N).”

Removing one of your hands, you began to swallow his length, stroking off what you couldn’t take down. His moans and groans only stir you on as you bask in the feel of him throbbing in your mouth. With your free hand, you began to palm at his balls; the action making him grip the sheets as well as tenderly holding the side of your head.

His mouth was parted, showing only his tongue, as he panted out. “That’s it baby, such a good girl for me.”

Chris felt his peak slowly approaching, the buildup steadily growing with every swipe of your tongue, suction from your lips and tug at his balls. Though he would’ve loved to release down your throat and watch your mouth milk his balls, he wanted- needed to feel your warmth surrounding him as he coated your walls.

He went to unlatch you from his cock and raise you towards him. “I need to feel you,” he breathed out, “I miss the feel of you around me (Y/N).”

You crawled up his body til you were straddling his hips. Reaching down, you pumped his length a few times before positioning it for entry. The second you began the descent and his head met the resistance from your cunt, you both groaned out.

Chris couldn’t wait any longer so he brought his hands to your hips and fully sank you down on him, sheathing his entire cock inside of you. The action made you lurch forward with your hands planting themselves on his chest in search of stability.

“Oh that’s it princess,” professed Chris, “Missed this tight fucking cunt choking my cock. Missed you so goddamn much.”

With the help of his hands on your hips, you began to slowly work yourself on his dick. Every rise and fall of your hips made you experience the delectable feel of his veined shaft drag against your channel.

“Oh Christopher,” you cooed as you felt him throb inside of you.

“That’s it princess, I’m right here.”

You brought your hands from off of him and covered his large ones. Removing them from your body, you intertwined digits. The new position of your hands allowed the newly added engagement ring to gleam under the light.

If he had a camera, he would’ve wanted to capture the beauty of you in that moment. Every buck of your hips caused your breasts to bounce, the action enticing him even more than already. The sweat that began to form on your body caused your body to shine from the bedroom lights, making your body appear as if it were glowing.

He wanted to frame the glorious sight of you, but he decided to settle with the fact of knowing he would be able to recreate this exact moment for the rest of his life. Recreate with you as husband and wife.

He rose up from the mattress and maneuvered your legs to wrap around his waist before sitting on his haunches. The new position of your naked chest pressed up against his own while he fucked you on his cock was a sort of intimacy that couldn’t be explained.

The closeness of your faces allowed you to feel each other’s breaths warm your features. You could see pupils being blown, feel the sweat dripping off one another, and hear every single sound that escaped the other's mouth.

Attaching his lips to yours, Chris moaned into your mouth. “That’s it baby, cream all around my cock. Milk me til I fill you up with my cum.”

The heels of your feet dug into his lower back and your fingertips gripped onto his neck, leaving scratches in its wake.

You knew for certain that you would have bruises on your waist with the way he had latched onto you, raising you up and down his length.

With every thrust, your sweaty skin slapped together as his balls spanked up against your ass.

“Ahh baby, I- fuck Chris I’m almost there.”

“I know (Y/N), I’m right behind you.”

A few more harsh thrusts as his tip slammed against your g-spot and you were suddenly slammed into the blissful abyss of your orgasm. The tightness of your contracting walls caused Chris to achieve his own release. The shouting sounds of you two reaching your respective peaks echoed throughout the room.

Warmth flooded your body and your cunt as you felt Chris’s cock shoot ribbons of his seed deep into you. He continued to drag you along his length, hoping to prolong the glorious feeling of your pussy throbbing around him.

After the sensation of your peak began to wane, he fell back against the mattress, bringing you down with him.

The two of you laid there in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth radiating off the other.

Chris strokes your back, long traces of his thumb running along your spine as you both regain your breath.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N). So goddamn much.”

Still a little too spent, you nodded while your hands toyed around with his chest.

While you two sat there, a realization popped into the brunette's head, making him begin to stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his ass jiggle with every step out of the room, the sight making you chuckle. When he returned, he held his phone in his hand.

“Seriously Christopher, you wanna make a sex tape right now?”

A boisterous laughter left him at your assumption, “No sweetheart, not that.”

Chris sat back next to you on the bed as he scrolled through his phone gallery. After a few flicks on his thumb, he finally found the photo that you two took on your first date. You were as beautiful as ever, smiling at the camera as he looked in awe at you.

You watched as he loaded up Instagram and clicked on the plus sign to create a new post. “Chris, what are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Choosing the desired photo, he went to begin typing out his caption that would unveil you to the world.

chrisevans: A little over a year ago this photo was taken on our first date. I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, that’s why I eagerly asked you to be mine. (Y/N) you make me the happiest man that I could be. I know this past year and a half has been a tough one, especially with everyone in the world claiming that they were dating me while I kept you in the shadows, but enough is enough. There’s no one else that I would rather be with. There’s no one in this entire world that holds a candle to you. To your beauty, your kindness, your everything. You are the love of my life. As of tonight, my fiancé. And soon to be my wife. I love you more than words can describe princess. (Y/@/N)

Chris finished typing out his message before looking down at you, silently asking for approval. He watched as your index finger raised up and clicked on the share button, indicating the end of your secrecy.

A dopey smile made his face before he looked at you, phone in hand, “Now, about that sex tape.”

You laughed at his joke as he made his way to kiss you once more. The embrace was full of contentment due to knowing that things were back to normal with a growing relationship full of unwavering love, reinstated trust, and pure happiness.

A/N: and that's a wrap folks. thank you to everyone who read this series.

also i would like to say that this is in no way an indication of chris evans personality or character. this is just fiction.

if you enjoyed this, please make sure to reblog and comment. feedback is much appreciated !

* divider credits : @firefly-graphics *

#chris evans #chris evans series #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #chris evans fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #pining for professor

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wheelsup · 3 years

Note

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart.

wc: 1.6k contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder.

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff.

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower.

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority.

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark.

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself.

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.”

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity.

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured.

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath.

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny.

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.”

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo.

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had.

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one.

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you.

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it.

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.”

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor.

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy.

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it.

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…”

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit.

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.”

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Text

Male!Companions react to waking up alone after spending the night with Sole.

Hey all! So, just a heads up, I’m also working on this prompt for the Female!Companions for FO4, and also a bunch of companions from FONV and FO3, but if you have any specific requests or want me to add anyone, just let me know! Sorry this is so damn long, but I hope you all enjoy!

Also, there is a bit of angst in here with some mentions of suicidal thoughts, so just a heads up on that!

P.S. If you’re one of the lovely folks who has sent me an ask, I am currently working on writing them up and I will definitely get them out as soon as I can, I just really like the prompts y’all gave me and I want to do them justice :)

Danse:

Danse sat up with a start, immediately trying to gain his bearings, only to find himself still in the bunker, in his own bed. He let out a shaky breath, still dazed from the heavy sleep that had claimed him. It had been years since he'd slept like that, the last time he recalled sleeping so peacefully was when he was stationed at the Citadel in the Capital Wasteland. Even more than that, he had barely slept at all since discovering his true identity. Danse shook his head, trying to clear it of its sleepy fog, he went to rub his eyes, and he felt his heartbeat increase tenfold as the memories of his night with you came flooding to the forefront of his mind. Even now he felt the heat of a blush rushing to his cheeks. He turned his head, expecting to see your peacefully sleeping form on the mattress beside him. When he didn't, he wasn't sure what to do. Immediately, a slew of emotions and thoughts ran through him, ranging from shame, to panic, to anger, and most of all, hurt. Before he allowed himself to arrive at any premature conclusions, Danse called out for you, looking around the room. Nothing. He stood up, holding the blankets around his waist to conceal himself as he made his way to the hole in the wall that allowed him to peer into the other section of the bunker. Still nothing. The slew of contradicting emotions bubbled up again, leaving him feeling slightly numb. He stood there, just staring, trying to grasp a hold of any clear thought, but they were inadvertently tumbling into his consciousness at an alarming rate.

All at once, one feeling prevailed over the others, and Danse found himself feeling extraordinarily guilty. Guilty for agreeing to last night, for jeopardizing his friendship with the one person he had left in his life by greedily pushing too far. What right did he have to you and your feelings anyway, when his weren't even real? The pain of being deserted by you was overshadowed by the knowledge that he didn't deserve you in the first place. Even when he thought he was human, he had trouble rationalizing his feelings for you, thinking you deserved better than someone like him. Someone as hard headed, as inexperienced, and emotionally ignorant as he was. But now? Now, he wondered why you even bothered to waste any of your time on him, even just as his partner, when it was proven that he's nothing but a machine. Why had you even suggested last night, when you knew the truth about him?

He simply couldn’t understand it. Why had you allowed him to be with you in such a way? To be with you so intimately? Why had you allowed him to touch you so invasively? Why had you spoken to him so softly, so earnestly? How could your gaze have been so full of admiration, of love? He was a goddamn machine, and you’d let him share a bed with you, make love to you. He didn’t even know what love was, didn’t know if it was possible for him to even feel it; and yet, you’d been more open with him than he had been with anyone before. And he wasn’t even human. He was at a complete and utter loss for any form of explanation or reasoning behind your actions.

Danse stood alone in the bunker, staring ahead with brows furrowed low at no single thought in particular. It was then that he realized his heart was still beating out of his chest, he took a deep breath, and prepared himself to leave the bunker in search of you. Because, even now, when you were at the center of his feelings of uncertainty, of guilt, of hurt, he still felt the need to seek the counsel of the one person left he could truly trust, the one whose opinions he had sought in the darkest hours of his existence. He needed you.

More than that, he needed to make sure you were safe. At least that's what he told himself as he dressed, donning his power armor, before he rode the elevator up to the surface, his iron-clad hands clenching tightly as he gripped his laser rifle.

As Danse arrived at the surface, he noted the sunlight bursting through the lone window of the bunker, indicating how late he'd slept in, and he mentally kicked himself for his irresponsibility. If he had woken at his usual hour, would you have still been beside him? Perhaps he could've spoken to you before you left, encouraged you to hear him out, begged you to stay with him. Even just as a friend, just as a partner. He felt he simply couldn’t cope with the loss of you, of the security that you provided him.

Danse shook his head in an attempt to banish these useless thoughts from his mind. He couldn't control the past, he had to keep looking forward. With that, he crossed the threshold out into the Commonwealth.

Danse returned to the bunker a few hours before sundown, feeling utterly at a loss, he'd been everywhere he could reach, everywhere you could've gone in the period of time you had had to get there. He checked every house, farm, settlement… everything in the bunker's vicinity. His limbs felt weak and numb as he approached the entrance to the bunker. He could feel heat rising up in his face as his chest ached. He felt like he needed to hit something. Tears of frustration and dejection threatened to spill over, and he brought a gloved hand up to roughly wipe away the first drop that fell. Though, through the blur of wetness, he spotted a silhouette in the doorway ahead of him.

"Where the hell have you been?!" You shouted, running from the bunker and straight into Danse's arms. For a moment, he remained still, unable to reciprocate your relief in his state of utter shock. In the next instance, his rifle fell from his grip and he was wrapping his arms around you, as tightly as he could without injuring you.

"I believe I could ask you the same question, soldier." Danse said, willing his voice to remain stable. You pulled away so that you could look up at him, your expression one of confusion,

"I thought I told you last night. I had to go to Greentop nursery in the morning and talk to the settlers about their mutant problem." He blinked at you in surprise. At least, you thought you had told him, but maybe it had slipped your mind. It didn't surprise you, given last night's activities.

"But… Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because Danse, I've never seen you sleep in, I wanted you to get some rest for once."

"I would have rather been with you." He said quietly. You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued,

"It was irresponsible of you to leave me uninformed, you should have woken me. You scared me, Sole. I thought…" he took a quick breath to steady his voice, "I don't know what I thought. I woke up and you were gone, I wasn't sure if you were in danger, or if you were angry with me, or whether or not you even meant to return."

"Danse, of course I was going to come back, I just didn't expect you to be gone when I did."

"And for that, I apologize. However, I implore you to understand--"

"Danse. It's okay, we're both here now, we're both safe. And I don't know about you, but I'm starving. C'mon." You turned towards the bunker and went to make your way inside. Danse stood a moment, watching you walk away. Feeling began slowly returning to his limbs, and for the first time all day, his heartbeat slowed to its normal rate. He reached down to pick up his rifle, a small smile spreading across his lips as he moved to follow you back into the bunker.

Deacon:

Deacon opened his eyes, only to immediately close them again, as the bright morning sun showed through the windows of Ticonderoga safehouse, and directly into his retinas.

“Damn,” He said, reaching over to grab for his shades from beside the mattress. Once they were placed onto his face, he decided it would be safe to open his eyes once again. Deacon groaned as he rolled his shoulders, and sat up, stretching his arms overhead.

God, he felt good. The tightness of his muscles serving as a reminder of the… ahem, events of last night. Last night, with you. How the hell had that happened? He almost couldn’t believe it. After so many years of being alone, of feeling emotionally inept, and unable to move on. Here you came, seemingly out of some sci-fi novel, with your futuristic, time-traveling backstory, and inhuman good looks, and for some reason, you’d thought he was, of all things, cute. That was the word you had used, he remembered it vividly, and of course he had feigned being annoyed by the use of the word to describe him, but in reality? He adored the fact that you thought so. No one had ever referred to him as such, and the fact that it confirmed you reciprocated the feelings he had for you; that was truly extraordinary. These feelings that he had tried so desperately to bury deep down, where they couldn’t meddle with your friendship, or your professional relationship, or his own crippling fear of being committed to someone again (given how well it went the first time). Now, he barely understood why he had tried so hard to snuff out his emotions if this was one of the possible outcomes of revealing them to you. He never dreamed that you could have returned the affection he had for you. However, if last night was any kind of indicator… yeah, he’d say the two of you had pretty strong feelings indeed.

At least, that’s what he had thought. Until he turned to you excitedly, looking to see if you had woken yet, and found your spot next to him quite empty. His jaw clenched at the sight, but he took a breath and resolved himself to looking around the safehouse for your belongings. His teeth worried anxiously against the inside of his cheek as he noticed the distinct absence of anything belonging to you. Deacon stood in the middle of the safehouse, bringing his hands up to roughly rub at his face.

“God dammit.” He said aloud, unable to keep something from escaping him. Deacon liked to think he had a good bit of self control, it came with the job after all, a spy with no sense of restraint and proper judgment didn't live very long. However, you had this way of making him forget everything he thought he knew about himself. There he was last night, doing the one thing he vowed he'd never do again. Falling for someone. Him! Deacon, the immature, sarcastic, dishonest, and unemotional agent of the railroad; and here he was, head over heels for a widowed, pre-war saint like you. What a pair you two would have made.

I suppose it really was too good to be true. He thought bitterly.

Deacon grabbed his things and set off into the Commonwealth without so much as a glance over his shoulder. He stared dead ahead, refusing to address the pressure he felt in his chest. Trying desperately to maintain his cool and unbothered exterior, to remain the type of person he was before he'd met you. He always knew he could change the way he looked in a day or less, but the way you'd changed his perspective of the world, of his place in it, and his future? He didn't think you could have changed who he'd turned out to be if you had all the time in the world. Deacon was firmly set in his ways, so much so, that even he couldn't change who he was. No matter how much he despised himself at times. But man, had he been wrong, all the disguises in the world couldn't mask the fact that, for the first time in years, Deacon had a priority in his life besides the railroad, and besides himself. And that scared the shit out of him.

Now he wasn't really sure what to think. If you had simply wanted nothing more than a one-night stand, you could have just told him so. At least then he would’ve been prepared for this shit. For you leaving him, seemingly without a second thought.

The sniper shook his head roughly as he kicked up the dust of the wasteland, his footfalls much heavier than they had any business being. He always had prided himself at being a good judge of character, at being intuitive, but he never would have expected something like this from someone like you. Someone who cared about the happiness of everyone else more than their own well-being, someone who was kind, and selfless, and empathetic, someone who constantly put their own life at risk for the benefit of complete strangers. Sure, he did that occasionally, but his life was worth a hell of a lot less. You were a good person, and always had been. From the moment he saw you, everything he heard about you, all of it pointed to the fact that you, even after all you’d lost, after everything you endured, you were a better person than he could ever hope to be. And now, for you to do this to him? It was completely out of character. Whatever, he thought, if this is all you wanted from me, then fine. It's all you're going to get.

As he approached the Old North Church, Deacon mentally prepared himself for the possibility that you too would be at the Railroad headquarters. He decided to simply not acknowledge your… ordeal, and act as though nothing had changed. Though, if Deacon was honest (which he rarely ever was), he would rather not have you as his partner anymore. With the way he was feeling-- the way he had once felt about you, it would be too complicated. He didn’t need complicated. The railroad missions provided enough of that.

He entered HQ quietly, and mulled about, visiting with the others and picking up missions left and right in an effort to acquire enough distractions to keep him out of the church for as long as possible. He figured that way, the likelihood of bumping into you would be decreased enough for him to get a handle on himself before having to face you. But, of course, his plans were all for naught, he realized as you stormed into the catacombs, your glowering eyes falling directly to the bald sniper in the corner of the room; the sniper who was trying desperately to make himself seem distracted as he felt your eyes burning into the back of his head. At least you had the decency to lower your voice as you approached him,

“Deacon!” You hissed, shouting his name as quietly as one could shout.

He continued staring at the blackboard, a hand at his chin as he feigned interest in what was written there.

“What the hell?” You asked, taking another step towards him, close enough that he could feel your hot breath on his cheek.

“Hmm? Something wrong?” He asked, turning his head towards you while his eyes stayed glued to the board in front of him. You took a step back, and the next thing he knew, you had extended your hand forcefully towards his face, leaving a stinging red mark imprinted on his cheek in its wake. Deacon’s head snapped back towards the blackboard at the power of your blow, his sunglasses barely managing to hang onto his face by the bridge of his nose.

I’m not sure if I deserved that or not…

He brought his own hand up to rub the spot you had just slapped, finally letting his eyes meet yours from beneath his crooked shades. He nearly gasped at your expression. Your eyebrows were knitted together above your tear-filled eyes, your mouth a straight line as your chin trembled slightly. He’d say you looked sad, but behind your eyes, all he could see was fire. The same fire he’d felt when he saw that you had deserted him that morning. Or, at least, when he thought you’d deserted him.

Almost without thinking, Deacon grabbed your hand and dragged you back to the more private area of the railroad HQ. Despite your clear vexation with him, you allowed him to lead you to the back of the church catacombs, near the emergency exit.

“Alright, you finally ready to explain yourself?” You asked, wrenching your hand from his grasp.

“Me? I’m pretty sure it was you who walked out on me, and who just slapped me in the face for asking a simple question.” Your nostrils flared at that and for a moment, Deacon thought you were going to do something violent again.

“Okay, look, I know I’ve fallen for your lies before, but I think it’s pretty damn ridiculous for you to think that I’ll believe this one. I was there, Deacon! You left me. You took all your shit and left me alone at the safehouse. I don’t care what happened the night before, even if it was awful for you, or awkward for you to see me in that way, or whatever, you still don’t abandon your partner. We agreed to that the moment I became an agent.”

Deacon’s jaw dropped to his chest at his realization, and your accusation. He had left you? When? How? When was he supposed to find that out?

“Look, Sole, I’m a liar, I’ll give you that. But I’m a good one,” you rolled your eyes at him, a scoff sounding from your throat, “so, I wouldn’t even attempt to lie to you if I could see that you absolutely knew the truth.”

“God, if you’ve got a point, make it, asshole.”

“Ouchies, no need for name calling there, slappy. I’m just trying to figure out the miscommunication issue we’ve got going on here.” You glared at him, and he was forced to continue.

“The truth is,” Deacon looked down at the floor as he spoke softly to you, feeling as though the words were being wrenched from his throat, “I only left because I thought you had first. I woke up, and you were gone. Your things were gone. I thought that was it, that you were done with our… partnership. Done with me. And hey, I can’t say I’d blame you. Especially if you’d really think I could just up and leave after spending a night like that with you.”

“Oh.” you whispered, before trying to explain yourself, “I wasn’t-- I didn’t just leave, I mean, I went up to give High Rise the MILA for Tom. I was gone for five minutes, Deacon. I was coming right back.” The two of you stood a moment, as realization washed over you. And a bit of regret, too. And a sprinkle of foolishness.

Finally, he brought his gaze up to meet your eyes. Hoping his apology was as evident on his face as it was on yours. You brought your hand to his cheek, soothing over the angry red mark that you had left earlier, and Deacon flinched slightly at your touch, his eyes falling once again to the floor.

“It really only took you five minutes to think that I had left you?” You asked gently, the anger that had once been prevalent in your voice dissolving into concern. Deacon chuckled dryly.

“Haven’t I taught you anything? When you assume the worst, it’s a lot harder to be disappointed.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But I bet it makes it all the better when you find out you were wrong.” Deacon smiled weakly at you, shaking his head.

“Yeah, no. I’m not seeing the appeal in being wrong just yet.” The hand that still rested on his cheek slid to the back of his neck, grasping firmly as you pulled his face towards yours. The pressure of your brow displaced Deacon’s shades as you crashed your lips into his. He toppled backwards against the wall of the catacombs as you pressed more forcefully into him, his arms falling behind him to steady himself against the cold brick, as your unoccupied hand slunk up to his chest, keeping him pinned between you and the wall. You pulled your head back, but kept your hands in place as you murmured,

“What about now?”

“Hmm?” Deacon’s ginger eyebrows raised above his glasses as his mind went blank. You cocked an eyebrow at him, a smirk forming on your face.

“Oh, right. I suppose so. Though, I think I’m gonna need a few reminders every once in a while.”

“Hmm,” you mused, “I think that can be arranged.”

Hancock:

The ghoul awoke with a purr, stretching one ruined arm out to blindly search for your sleeping body. He distinctly remembered curling up with you wrapped tight in his embrace before lulling off into the best sleep he's had in years. For the first time in months he didn't have the nagging ache of wishing you were pressed against him as he settled in for the night. The thoughts of you lying so close but so painfully out of reach were finally pushed from his head to make room for the sheer bliss of being able to touch you, to feel your unbelievably soft skin, to breathe in your sweet scent and relish in the closeness of your body against his.

That was of course, until this morning. Hancock opened his eyes lazily, his dark gaze sweeping over the mess of bed sheets and pillows that littered the plush mattress. The sight of the disheveled blankets bringing back heated memories of last night. Before his brow furrowed at the realization of the current situation he found himself in. Hancock slowly rose from the bed, his dark eyes searching the surrounding room for any sign of you. He found his trousers, his hat, his coat... but nothing of yours remained where they had been tossed last night. If Hancock had a nose, it would have been curling alongside the rest of his scrunched up face as he thought of you leaving in such a hurry this morning. Hancock felt a pain in his chest and immediately craved a hit of something, anything, to numb the hollow feeling that began spreading through his body.

Sunlight shone through the windows of the old state house, the beams of light diffused by the ringlets of smoke rising from the ghoul's mouth as he took yet another hit of jet, trying hard to keep his mind blank, but inevitably failing as his thoughts returned to last night's events. Coming almost in slow motion, he picked apart every movement; every touch, kiss, lick, and caress, nitpicking every action he had made and thinking about what he might've done to warrant your desertion of him. But deep down, he knew that his actions mattered little. You had assured him on numerous occasions that him being a ghoul didn't bother you, but you had never really seen him before. Not in the way you saw him last night. Had never felt his rough skin on yours, had never run your hands up his ravaged body, the softness of your touch only amplifying the harshness of his own leathery flesh. You had never uncovered the gross discoloration of his radiation-ravaged body. But last night, you had finally gotten a good, long look. And here he was, thinking that you of all people could’ve seen past that. You had been able to forgive him for his past, after all. Hadn’t you? But maybe that had been part of it too. Maybe you’d finally realized all that he really was. A reckless and cowardly poor excuse for a man, who spends his life in a haze of delirium rather than facing the pain of being alive. A pain that he had inflicted upon himself to break away from that same self-righteous fog that he’d found himself in in the first place. It’s no wonder you’re gone. Maybe you were never even really here. Maybe you were just another daydream of his, just another hallucination. God, if that was the case, he didn’t even know what he would do. After having you so close, being with you like this? He didn’t really see the point in living without you.

Hancock sighed heavily at the thought. He didn't know how long he sat simply thinking, his perception of time temporarily altered by the jet, but he had to do something to alleviate this torture, and if chems wouldn't do it... well....

"I need some air," he rasped aloud as he stood and headed for the balcony, donning his coat and hat on his way out. The mayor had to keep up appearances, after all.

He almost didn't see you as he stepped through the door, the way you leaned out against the rail, eyes closed, a soft, beautiful smile playing at your plush lips. Hancock could've stared at you until the world around him turned to dust, but you moved long before that musing could come to reality. Turning to look at him, your smile brightened further, and Hancock couldn't keep himself from touching you. He grabbed one of your hands in his, using his other to caress your pink-dusted cheek, affirming that you truly were physically there, standing in front of him.

"And what were you doing out here all by your lonesome? Trying to give a ghoul a little taste of heartbreak?" You let out a soft laugh,

"No, sweetheart," you called him affectionately, leaning into his light touch upon your cheek, "I thought that you would sleep longer. I just wanted to get out and enjoy some sunshine." You turned once again towards the morning sun, the rays highlighting every one of your perfect features. Hancock beamed at the sight of you, before turning and looking out at his city in thought,

"Hmm," he mused, "Sunshine, huh?"

MacCready:

MacCready had been lying on his back for a while now, staring at the crumbling ceiling of the dingy little room at the hotel Rexford. This certainly hadn’t been his idea of an ideal location for your first time together, but who was he to complain? It was safe, and private, and it had been a damn good night. But he’d been staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, waiting for you to stir. He’d thought it was odd, given the fact that you always woke up first when the two of you traveled together, but he’d like to think you hadn’t yet stirred because of the way he had exhausted you last night, his chest puffed out at the thought of it and he let out a contented sigh. The thoughts of your night together spilled into his consciousness, and he stretched out his arms in front of him, snickering slightly at the soreness of his body, and suddenly, he couldn’t wait for you any longer.

“Geeze, you awake yet, sleepyhead?” MacCready rolled onto his side to face the lump under the covers. He ran his hand over the mattress, over to you, but as he reached the lump beneath the blankets, all he felt was plushness. He withdrew the covers from atop you, only to find… pillows? Just a pillow, and a blanket. MacCready’s body spasmed as he jolted out from under the covers on his side of the bed, his head flying from side to side as he looked for you.

“Sole?” He cocked an eyebrow at the empty hotel room, and as he noticed your absence, his expression quickly changed from confusion to one of anger. You had left? But why? Had he done something wrong? He didn’t think so… but maybe he just... wasn’t everything you expected from him. Feeling like he’d been punched in the stomach, MacCready climbed from the bed, grabbing his trousers from the floor and stomping around the room in pursuit of the remainder of his clothes, not failing to notice how everything belonging to you was no longer in the room either. Heat rose to MacCready’s face as he pulled on his duster, but he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, or anger, or heartache, or some combination thereof.

What the heck? He thought, you were the one to suggest doing this, why would you do that if you were just gonna leave me like this? Right when MacCready had thought he’d found the one. The person who could help him move on from Lucy after everything he’d been through. You were perfect, not just for him, but for Duncan too. You were selfless, and kind, compassionate, resourceful, sometimes you were a bit of a sarcastic ass, but he loved that about you. You were a parent and a spouse, just like he had been. You were both lost, and broken when you found each other, just a couple halves that had made each other whole. You were his future... Or so he’d thought. But who was he kidding? You were so out of his league, the two of you weren’t even playing the same damn sport. He should’ve known this would be the outcome. But then, why the heck did you let it go this far? Sure, he was the one who had poured all of his feelings out onto the table, but he didn’t know what he’d expected you to do. He just felt like he would explode if he held them in any longer, especially when the two of you spent so much time together. He saw you every damn day, and all he wanted to do was hold your hand, he wanted to sleep beside you and hold onto you through the night, to have you run your fingers through his hair and tell him that you felt the same way. MacCready never imagined you’d do something like this to him, never thought you’d get his hopes up, dangling the future he'd always dreamed of having right in his face before ruthlessly snatching it away.

He rolled his eyes at his own ridiculous train of thought and groaned as he bent down to grab his rifle.

“At least you paid for the room up front.” he mumbled as he placed his hat on his head and made his way to the door.

MacCready’s footsteps fell heavily onto each stair as he headed down to the lobby, wondering where he’d go from there. He considered going and looking for you, but what was the point? Clearly if you wanted to see him, you wouldn’t have freakin left. Was he really petty enough to seek you out just to tell you how messed up it was that you’d left him the way that you did? Maybe… but he needed a drink first. To the Third Rail it was, then. What was it, 10am? He could drink at 10am. He could do whatever the heck he wanted, especially now that you were gone.

MacCready reached the bottom of the stairs, looking straight past the small crowd of people that were gathered in the lobby as he made his way to the exit. Just as his hand reached the door, he heard his name being shouted. His body shuddered at the sound of your voice, and he stood stock straight as he decided what to do. One fist clenched as the other hand pushed the door open and he crossed the threshold into Goodneighbor. The door never closed behind him, and he felt an iron grip on his forearm as he tried to head towards the Third Rail.

“Ow, hey!” He spun to face you, face slightly contorted in his confusion. What was he supposed to think now? He was still angry and hurt, but should he be? Ugh.

“Wait, Mac. I know how it must’ve looked, but really, it’s just a misunderstanding.” He stared at you, his deep blue eyes clouded with suspicion. He didn’t say a word, not wanting to ruin anything by making false assumptions or accusations. Instead, he waited for you to explain, wrenching his wrist from your grip as he folded his arms over his chest.

Before you could continue, Rufus came up from behind, asking quietly if he could go through the doors.

“Come on,” you urged, “let’s get out of the doorway.” You herded MacCready to one of the couches in the lobby, seating yourself next to him.

“Alright. Explain.” He said, brows still furrowed. You almost snickered at how put-out the sniper seemed. You couldn’t quite tell if it was an act or not, but knowing MacCready… yeah, probably not an act.

“Rufus was having some trouble with Drinkin’ Buddy.” You told him, “The bot shut down and no one could get him to turn on again. This morning, some sort of warning light started flashing, so he came up and asked if I could help him fix it. I would’ve asked you to come along, but you were still asleep, and I know how you hate being woken up…” You trailed off, waiting for him to say something in response.

Man, MacCready felt moronic. Why had he been so quick to assume the worst? Okay, maybe not the worst, the worst would’ve been… Well, that’s not important. He shook his head, finally letting himself breathe deeply again.

“You sure that was it?” He asked, uncertainty coating his tone as he narrowed his eyes at you.

You leaned forward, smoothing a hand up his chest to the back of his neck as you brought your lips to his. Your fingers fiddled with the hair at the base of his neck and held him to you as your mouth moved against his, trying to answer his question without having to use your words. This was better, anyway. You felt a hand move to your waist as he relaxed into the kiss, his strong grip pulling you nearly into his lap as he returned your fervor. Only when you needed air did you pull back from him, your heartbeat still racing as you watched his gorgeous eyes flutter open.

“Did that answer your question?” You asked cheekily. He smiled, face still pink from the heat of your kiss.

“I don’t know, boss, I may still need some more, ah, reassuring.” You snickered at that, and glanced back at Clair’s desk.

“Any more convincing and we may need that room again. You think if we go now, we won’t have to pay the hotel for a second day?”

God, I think I’m in love. MacCready thought as he nodded to you, a boyish grin spreading across his lips. At that, both of you scrambled off of the couch, quickly making your way towards the stairs and up to the hotel room.

Nick:

The synth didn't sleep, but he didn't mind it. He stayed awake beside you in bed, replaying memories of the night over and over in his mind. Although he wasn't sure how comfortable it could be, he had his arms curled around you, holding you tightly to his synthetic chest while the memories of his favorite night (in either of his lifetimes) were running through his mind. You snored softly in his embrace, utterly at peace, as he gazed affectionately at your soft features. Nick didn't often feel blissful, and he never would've imagined himself in this situation, being completely content with the person he admired, and adored so adamantly, safely wrapped in his arms. He should've known it wouldn't last.

Without a sound, he felt as you slowly and gently pried his arms off of your body, climbing off of the shared mattress. Nick figured that you would give him an explanation; perhaps once you were out of bed? When you went to go and dress yourself? Before walking through the door? But you were silent throughout, even as he heard the door click shut behind you. Nick closed his eyes tightly, sighing to himself and wondering if the pain in his chest was substantial enough to cause him to short circuit. What had he done wrong? Even if it was nothing, he would understand why you had left. Even at his best, Nick could hardly amount to what any average human could give you, and he could never give you everything you wanted. Everything you needed, and deserved. He wasn't real. So he wouldn't blame you for leaving, hell, if he hadn't been so caught up in his own blissful feelings, he might've encouraged you to go. And he had, before last night had truly begun, he recalled asking you if he was what you really wanted. Then, you had seemed so eager, almost laughing at the thought that he couldn't be enough, after all this time the two of you had spent together, and all your pining over him. These thoughts circled through the synth's mind as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He willed himself to grab a file and get to work, to do something, anything, to distract himself from the pain, but it was as though the weight in his chest was too much to bear. The height of his earlier high only amplifying the depths of his current low.

Every attempt to look through a case file was a failure, his yellow eyes roaming the first few lines of writing before his mind drifted off. To thoughts of where you could have gone, whether or not you would come back, and thoughts of last night. At the way you made his pistons fire at triple times their normal rate, the way you made his metal heart flutter in his chest, and the way you had come so beautifully undone in his arms. That was it. The moment he needed to remember for the rest of his days on this ruined earth. At that very moment, nothing else seemed to matter. He was sure he'd been foolish before, thinking you could never care for him in such a way. How foolish he'd felt then... it was nothing compared to now. The synth brought his metallic hands up to his face, the tips of his fingers displacing the worn hat on his head. He imagined tears flowing from beneath the heels of his hands as he dug them into his eye sockets, but of course none came. Would that have been acceptable? If he had been able to shed real tears, like a real human being, would you have stayed after last night? If he had been able--

The door to the agency burst open at that moment, interrupting the old detective's thoughts, and sending his head shooting back to see who had busted in so aggressively, his hat flying from its usual place atop his head.

The fact that the synth couldn't breathe didn't matter in this moment as he huffed a massive sigh of relief at the glorious sight of you, the light of the early morning sun casting a warm glow around your body.

"Oh doll..." the words escaped him as a smile began to spread across his synthetic lips, "for a moment there, I thought you were an angel." You giggled at that, your flushed smile causing the whirring in his chest to increase exponentially.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, I was just about to open up a missing person's case on ya." You finally closed the door and made your way to his desk, leaning down to give his cheek a chaste kiss as you smoothed your hand over his chest, stopping to grab at his tie and pull him up towards you.

"Always the professional, hmm detective?" You smirked at him and he gave you a crooked smile before bringing his good hand up to stroke his thumb over one of your soft cheeks.

"Although," you continued, teasingly bending down to pick his hat up from the floor, "your uniform doesn’t seem to be up to the usual standards."

"Oh? Is that what you think?" He said, reaching for the hat before you held it behind your back, a mischievous grin forming on your lips,

"Sure is. You don't have your hat.”

“Oh? And whose fault is that?” He interjected playfully.

“And” you continued, “look at this coat, full of rips. It’s practically in shambles." you ran a finger down his side, allowing the tip of your fingernail to catch at the tiny holes littering the worn fabric.

"Hey now, my coat's always looked like that. You didn't seem to find fault in it when you were cold last night." You shook your head,

"Nope, I'm sorry Mr. Valentine, it's all in disarray, I'm afraid we'll just have to scrap the whole thing."

"Well now, if that’s what you were after, you could've just told me, darling. No need to insult--" His sentence remained unfinished as you tightened your grip on his tie, pulling him in for a kiss that was anything but chaste. He had so many questions left unanswered, but for reasons unknown, he couldn't seem to think of a single coherent inquiry to voice to you in this instance. Looks like it will just have to wait until later.

Preston:

Preston felt uneasy. His eyes had opened slowly when he had awoken, his heartbeat had remained consistently calm, dapples of sunlight shone through the holes in the curtains beside the bed, indicating that he had slept through the night. Why did everything feel so… so peaceful? No nightmares, no panic attacks, the usual insomnia Preston tended to face in the wee hours of the morning had never reared its infuriating head.

Then he remembered.

It was all because of you. Amazing, incredible, infallible, irresistible you. Heat flooded to his face as a coy smile touched his lips. Suddenly, he felt he had to be near you, he had to see you to believe what his mind told him had happened last night.

“Mhm, good morning," he sighed, as he turned to face your side of the bed, "how are you-- ?" Preston's eyebrows creased as he noticed your absence, his voice trailing off as he realized his question had no recipient.

"Sole?" He sat up, rubbing his awakening eyes before glancing around the room of your Sanctuary house.

"Sole?!" Preston said, louder than the first time. Perhaps you had simply gone to the washroom? Or to the kitchen maybe? Rising from the bed, Preston fetched his trousers from the pile of clothes that rested at the foot of the bed, trying not to dwell too much on the thoughts that it inspired.

But... only my clothes are here. He reflected, feeling a pang in his chest, before reminding himself that you might want to be clothed, wherever you’d gone, even if it was just in your own house. He released a bit of his anxiety in a quick breath, before heading for the bedroom door, he opened it gingerly, glancing down the hallway before making his way to each of the rooms in search of you. He did so slowly, hesitantly, in fear of what he might find. Or, rather, afraid of what he wouldn't find.

Preston stood in the empty kitchen, numb, his fear utterly realized. He collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, afraid to let himself think, but unable to do anything else in his current state. Why, why, why did he have to act on his feelings for you? He just had to tell you how you made him feel, he had to be vulnerable and had to “put himself out there.” He just had to be intimate with you, he had to ruin everything. Why couldn’t he have just been happy with the way things were, with you as his friend? There he was, his life in danger, unable to help the people who needed him most, the Minutemen in complete disarray after having failed those they vowed to protect, and there you were. Here to save their asses, to turn his disaster of a life into one full of hope, full of light, and now, you were gone. You had left because he was an inarticulate, inexperienced, greedy, fool of a man who couldn't keep his mouth shut and just settle for having you as his general, and as his best friend. Why had he needed more? He didn't deserve more, not with you, hell, the whole damn world didn't deserve you, so how did he ever think you could want to be with him?

But you told me you did. You said you cared about me and-- No. Actions speak louder than words, and your absence after the first night you two had spent together… that spoke volumes.

Maybe you finally realized that I'm nothing special. Not compared to you. Maybe you realized that, next to you, and without you, I'm nothing at all. Preston balled a fist and pounded it weakly against your worn kitchen table, the dull thud resounding through the empty house. He sighed, sliding the chair back with a groan as he rose to his feet, heading once again to the back of the house. Entering your room without you felt like a crime, but he figured he might as well remove his things, and put on the remainder of his clothes, before leaving.

He stared down at the pile of tousled fabric at the foot of the bed, slowly untangling each individual article, secretly hoping that, if he took long enough, you would eventually make your way back into the room. That you would give him some inconsequential excuse for your absence, and he could forget all of the confusion and uncertainty of the morning. As Preston gingerly began to re-dress himself, thoughts came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. The way your soft, gentle fingers had undone each of the buttons of his shirt, the pressure tickling his neck, then his chest, down his stomach to his naval, your hands wasting no time as they moved upward to push the silky material off over his shoulders. He recalled the feeling of the smooth fabric of his scarf, as it unraveled slowly around his neck, a chill creeping onto the sensitive skin before you had chased it away quickly with the heated touch of your sweet lips. He remembered the breathy gasp that had escaped from you as your hands grasped tightly at the lapels of his coat, his mouth colliding with yours over and over again as his mind screamed for him to stop, to slow down, to ignore the fire blazing beneath his skin.

This is your general! It had told him, this is your friend, your recently widowed friend, your friend that you desperately need to keep in your life! If you screw this up, how will you ever be able to forgive yourself?

He should have listened to his head then. Why hadn’t he? Preston was sure that, if he had, it would have spared him from the awkward discussion he was bound to have with his superior officer in the near future. It certainly would have saved him the pain he was feeling now.

At the same time though... Last night had been the best night of Preston’s life. Did he really regret having those memories now? Yes, he had to. After all, what did last night matter if it hadn’t made you happy?

Preston shook his head, releasing a breath he was sure he’d been holding since he left the kitchen. Pulling up his boots, he grabbed the remainder of his things and left the room, glancing back at the empty bed one last time before placing his hat atop his head and pulling the door shut softly behind him.

The beams of morning sunlight chased away the fog that had settled in the streets of Sanctuary, bits of bright blue sky peeking through the gaps in the clouds. Looks like it’ll be a nice day. He thought somberly, trying desperately to perk himself up, lest he bump into any settlers on his patrol. He wouldn’t want to worry anyone with his troubled expression, and he certainly wasn’t prepared to answer any questions about his current state. Preston started towards the bridge, planning to begin his patrol of the perimeter from there. He was so focused on his destination, he nearly failed to notice the hand waving him down from the side of the street. When he did turn to look, his breath caught in his throat.

“Sole!” He exclaimed, much too loudly, as he noticed you, nearly dropping his laser musket. A wounded settler was seated on the curb, you were kneeling next to him on one side, wrapping a bandage around his arm, with Sturges standing on the other, an empty stimpak in hand. As soon as he processed what he was seeing, the Minuteman lieutenant tried desperately to compose himself, a blush inadvertently creeping up his cheeks as his eyes met yours. He adjusted his grip on his musket, and cleared his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Is everything alright over here?” He asked, making his way over to the group, “What can I do to help, general?” you gave him a small smile, assuring him everything was alright, and finished tending to the settler who, as Preston found out, was a new arrival who’d run into a pack of mongrels on his way to Sanctuary. When they were all certain the settler would be okay, Preston quietly asked the general if they had a moment to talk, much to Sturges’ amusement.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it, then. And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Sturges slapped Preston on the back as he passed by, snickering to himself. Preston felt heat rising to his face again and quickly motioned for you to follow him behind the house, hoping to get a little privacy. He took in a sharp breath, before releasing it slowly, and you smiled warmly at him. That’s a good sign, I suppose.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you quietly. Your eyes looked past Preston, almost as though you hadn’t heard him, and he felt a pang in his chest. Turning your head slightly, you glanced to either side, ensuring no one else was looking on, before turning back to him, looking into his eyes as a flush touched your cheeks.

“If I’m honest?” you started, and Preston’s breath caught in his throat, “I’m a little sore.” you said with a little smile, and Preston felt his knees wobble as his legs nearly gave out in relief.

“Heh, if I’m honest, me too.” He said, shyly looking down at his feet as he felt heat rise to his cheeks. “So, about that,” he continued, “last night, I mean. Did you, ahem, did you like--”

In an instant, your lips were on his own. The kiss was soft, but forceful, affirming all that Preston was uncertain of.

“Last night was… amazing, Preston.” You told him after you had pulled away, your hands resting on his shoulders, keeping his body pressed to yours.

“Then, when you left this morning ... ?”

“Sturges was looking for you when he found the settler on his patrol this morning, but he obviously didn’t find you in your bed, so he came to find me and--”

Preston groaned, an embarrassed smile forcing its way to his lips,

“He didn't see anything, did he?” You giggled at that,

“No, honey, he didn’t see anything.” You rolled your eyes playfully, before pulling at his shoulders, urging his ear to your lips, “But someone did. And I hear they really liked what they saw. You know who it was?” you whispered.

“Who?” you heard him breathe.

“Hmm, you really don’t know?” You sneaked a peek at his face, noting the goofy grin that spread all the way to his warm, chocolate eyes, and you couldn’t help but lean further into him. Preston drew an arm around you, his hand on your lower back, keeping you anchored to him, and all apprehension following this morning’s events seemed to be forgotten.

“You might just have to remind me.” He said cheekily, pulling you into another kiss.

X6-88:

The tightness in his chest was the least of the courser's worries as he woke to find himself utterly alone. You were gone, that, he knew. But where-- no, how? How had you woken and readied yourself without also waking him?

He never should have agreed to last night. Not only was it completely inappropriate, given your future position in the Institute, but it had distracted him from his main duty. The most important mission he'd ever been assigned: to watch over his charge, to keep them safe. To protect you. He had grown distracted, and now you were gone. The future director of the Institute, someone he respected and idolized, a person he cared about, more than anyone he'd ever come across in his existence, was just gone. His loyalty to you was akin to his loyalty to the Institute itself, and that was non-negotiable, unbreakable, hard-wired into him. You had won his devotion on your own, which made it that much more meaningful. And that much more painful when he realized that you might not feel the same loyalty for him. But why would you? And why did he care? He was allowed to feel allegiance towards you without you needing to return it, was he not? But … if you had felt this loyalty for him, you surely wouldn't have left him alone, correct? At least that's what it seemed like, but X6 wasn't particularly knowledgeable when it came to this subject. He didn't know, these thoughts confused him, and normally you were the one to help him make sense of his more... human tendencies and emotions, but clearly in this instance, he was on his own. You had treated him like no one ever had, like a real person, and so he thought he could start acting like one. Feeling like one. But he was wrong. X6 wasn't wrong often, and he hated the feeling. In his current state, every feeling he had was a negative one. He decided to shut it out. These feelings weren't helping him protect you, which was still his mission, reciprocated loyalty or not. Sitting around, contemplating his emotions didn't help him to find you.

The courser sat up and climbed off the mattress, grabbing his clothes that he had folded neatly beside the bed last night, noting that only his were present. After you had fallen asleep, X6 had untangled his body from your own as gently as he could, so as not to wake you, and had placed your clothes beside the bed in preparation for the morning. He had retrieved his courser uniform from the floor, with the intent of dressing himself and sitting on watch for the night, but you had stirred, sleepily requesting he return to the space beside you. He remembered hesitating, before folding his coat and placing it on the table beside your own clothes and doing as you had asked. Sliding beneath the covers, he had laid on his side, placing an arm around your waist. He remembered wondering if what he had done was correct, if he was doing this all right, but you had seemed happy, and that was all that mattered to him. So, if he had done nothing wrong, why had you left? Taken your clothes, and your bag, and your gun, and vanished without a trace? And when had he started caring about your happiness? Your health, and your safety, yes, he should certainly care about those, given the nature of his orders. But now he cared about how he made you feel. He wanted you to be happy, and he wanted to be the one to make you feel that way. But why?

X6 shook his head, attempting to clear it, and grabbed his rifle from the top of the dresser. It was distracting thoughts like these that had forced him into his current predicament, he wasn't about to make that mistake again. Placing his shades onto his face, he prepared to head through the door, and out into the wastes to search for you.

X6 surveyed the surrounding area outside of your home in Sanctuary: the gas station, Abernathy farm, Tenpines bluff, even the inside of Vault 111. Yet, there was no sign of you. He returned to Sanctuary and found your house still empty, the hollowness growing in his chest as he realized that your leaving really had been intentional. Elsewise, he would have stumbled across you, or some sign of you, by now, right? He stood in your old kitchen, his knuckles paled at the death grip he held on the edge of the counter, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold his emotions at bay.

How could he have agreed to last night? And why would you have presented the idea if you had meant to do this to him in the end? With a groan of frustration, X6 pounded a hand against the countertop, leaving a small indent in the shape of his fist. Not only had you left him, you had done so without warning, without explanation, and now he couldn't find you. He couldn't find you. That's what he did, he was a relentless hunter, a cold pursuant, he completed all of his missions efficiently, he followed Institute protocol, he followed orders. What he didn't do was get wrapped up in human emotions, he didn't throw caution to the wind and give into his most base desires. He was a synth. He didn't yearn, or want, or love. Or at least he hadn't.

Not until he met you.

The courser sighed, fists still clenched in frustration. He didn't know what to do, you were his mission, but if you commanded him to leave--? But you never actually had ordered him away... In his eyes, there was only one option for him to consider.

"Unit X6-88, ready to relay back to the institute. Alone."

A flash of blue, and he was back. No one asked him to report in, and he didn't offer. He started straight towards the SRB, wondering what the consequences would be for his behavior. A memory wipe would be the best outcome, especially if... Oh. But if they saw the memories from last night, what would happen to you?

X6 stopped in his tracks, turning quickly to go up the stairs that ascended to the residential portion of the Institute. Once again, he was at a loss. He didn't want to lose those memories, but more than that, he didn't want anyone else to see them. You were the first person he's ever met that treated him as a human, saw him as one, made him feel like one, and he couldn't bear the thought of what the Institute scientists would say about you, say to you, or do to you, if they saw what you had done with him. The courser looked down at his feet as he walked quickly, moving instinctively towards your quarters. He turned down the hallway, and recoiled at the figure that appeared as your door dragged open. X6’s eyes widened beneath his shades, and he cleared his throat to keep himself from gasping in surprise as your eyes met his.

"There you are! I was wondering when you would finally turn up, I finished with the meeting hours ago. I was just about to go out and look for you. Don't tell me you slept in this late?" You said with a grin that spread all the way to your glorious eyes. X6 couldn't form words, he just stood gawking at you, his mouth half open, looking like a complete fool. Right, the meeting with Father. How had he forgotten?

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your smile being replaced by an expression of concern. The courser didn't answer, he still couldn't keep his thoughts in order; instead, he stepped forward until his chest pressed against yours, urging you to back into your quarters. You did so rather hesitantly, a confused expression causing your brows to crinkle. When the door had closed behind him, X6 slowly reached out his arms, wrapping them tightly around you, just as you had shown him last night, he pulled you to his chest and held you firmly. The warmth of you, your soft hair and sweet scent calmed his strained nerves, and he finally allowed himself to take a deep breath and close his eyes, just for a moment. As quickly as he'd initiated it, he pulled away from the hug, squaring his shoulders and straightening his posture,

"I'm glad you're safe, ma'am/sir."

689 notes · View notes

obeiii-mee · 3 years

Note

MC had a bad day or they’re dealing with a bad loss from a loved one. So they decide to seek comfort from the Brothers! But they don’t do it in a normal way, they just barge in the room where the brothers are all relaxing or hanging out at before MC just busts in getting their attention and they go “I need a hug 🥺”. Let’s see the some fluffy hc’s of the brothers comforting MC 🥰

And how could they not want to hug their cute human that is literally 3 seconds away from breaking down into tears?

The Brothers Comforting MC After A Bad Day:

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You’re right, they wouldn’t be able to resist, they love their human too much 😌

*soBS* I want to hug one of them so bad rn

Thank you for the request, I love writing fluffy HCs, it’s my weak spot and it gives me serotonin. I hope you have a nice day/night!! Uh, it’s sort of implied that MC is slightly shorter than them so sorry if that’s a problem-

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Notes: Fluff, mentions of loss and dead family members/friends, mostly comfort though, short HCs

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beezlebub and Belphegor.

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Lucifer:

-He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t really need to because him just being there, arms wrapped around you and hands lightly running up and down your back, is worth more words than any sort of verbal consolation he could’ve given you and because of this, you feel at ease

-His touch is firm but gentle and you relax almost immediately, burying your head against his chest and feeling him press a kiss on top of your hairline, tightening your hold on him

-He already told his brothers to back off because the last thing he wanted was for you you to get overwhelmed by their insensitivity so you two were left in the living room by yourselves

-In a bit of an awkward position though, because you were both standing and after a while, it was clear a hug wasn’t going to be enough

-That’s his excuse as to why he picked you up bridal style five minutes later and carried you all the way to his bedroom, a place he knows his siblings won’t ever trespass without his permission and somewhere he can shield you from any prying eyes while you’re in this vulnerable state

-At this point, he was basically cradling you like a baby, having you sit on his lap and waiting for you to tire yourself out until you couldn’t cry anymore and watching you slip into that hiccuping stage you get after a breakdown

-Lucifer is obviously going to ask what happened, but whether you answer him or not is up to you because he’s not one to push matters if he sees you’re uncomfortable talking about it

-However, he might insist if he concludes that it’s affecting you and your well being and that’s how you know usually know he’s worried

-His voice is soft though and just listening to it makes you want to tell him everything, whether it’d be something as annoying as a small inconvenience you stumbled across that day or the death of a relative, you feel welcomed enough to spill everything

-Even if you decide not to, he’ll stay with you until you feel better, until you’re no longer crying or shaking or anything of the sort. He speaks occasionally, almost soothingly about how important you are to him and how capable you are of overcoming anything in your way. For the most part, however, he remains quiet and allows you to mull over your thoughts, willing to forget about his paperwork just to let you cling to him for a few hours

-Maybe later, when you’re no longer as distressed, he could get the full story out of you and help you overcome whatever problem you’re having trouble facing but for now, he understands all you need is for him to be there

“MC?” He calls your name out because he was thinking that maybe you had fallen asleep but he realised that was not the case when you looked up at him, streaks of tears still sliding down your cheeks. When you don’t respond, he sighs almost contently “A bit longer?” You don’t answer again but this time, he could feel you nod against him and he smiles despite himself as he leaned his head against yours “All right then, just a bit longer.”

Mammon:

-Truth be told, he’s never been the best at comforting someone and normally, he’s kind of awkward when he wants to show his support because it feels so out of his character

-But it’s not like he was going to refuse you anyway. Not when you specifically came to him and asked him for help and not when you looked like you were on the verge of crying. He’d be a monster to deny you >:(

-It upsets him too, you know. He’s meant to be your protector, guardian even, so the fact that he couldn’t keep you from getting hurt makes him feel like he failed at keeping his human safe. Actually, it takes a lot of convincing on your part just to tell him that you’re not actually physically hurt. Just a shitty day…

-Mammon, despite the walls he puts up ever now and then, is someone that genuinely cares for you. And he’s also the type that does almost everything in excess, especially when it comes to you or spending money. That’s just his personality; he’s loud and boisterous and even though he wants to deny this, completely transparent with his emotions

-You ask for a hug? He gives you plenty of hugs! He lets you lay on top of him while cuddling so he can hold you!!! He brings you snacks and drinks!!! Shit, he basically cradles you the whole night!!! And he’s blushing and acting annoyed the entire time, refusing to accept how much he’s actually enjoying this

-The point is, he tends to coddle you whenever you have a bad day or if you’re really affected by the loss of a dead loved one. This is probably because he, in turn, likes to be babied and cared for when he’s feeling down and he subconsciously does that to you because it’s the only means of comfort he knows how to execute well

-A hug would’ve sufficed, but you’re his human and let him be damned if he’s not gonna give you the world on a silver platter if you keep looking at him with those sad eyes of yours

-By now, if you need anything, you just need to ask because even with a bit of grumbling, he’ll get it for you. More snacks? Say less. Wanna watch TV with him for a while? Immediately reaches for the remote? You just want to cuddle? His body is naturally warm for a reason bby, dig in. You want his heart? Give him a moment to surgically get it out of his chest-

-No matter what, he’s so glad that you trust him enough to talk to him about this sort of stuff and that he’s the first person you think of when you need consolation

-It makes sense after all, right? He’s your first pact so your direct happiness is his responsibility while you’re in DevilDom! It’s his job to make sure you function again by tomorrow morning and that you’re no longer troubled by anything

“Hey! What’s with all the crying huh?” He cups your face in his hands and softly squishes the flesh between his fingers. His thumbs brush over the tears in your eyes and he let’s out a small ‘tsk’ as your foreheads touch and his hands drip to your shoulders to keep you steady “The Great Mammon is hugging ya right now, ya know? There’s no reason for you to be upset, not when I’ve got ya in my arms like this, OK? So you can stop with yer water works now.” As noisy as his voice is, there’s a gentle note behind it when he speaks and embraces you, his cologne spreading everywhere “I love you, ya big idiot. So please, stop cryin’ and lemme hold ya already! Yer making me worried, ya stupid human.”

Levi:

-You stopping by his room is not unusual. In fact, you do it every day and it’s just part of the routine you have with him. However, he’s wasn’t exactly expecting you to stand there, all shaken up and ask him for a hug!!!

-And he doesn’t process this request for a second but then he freaks out so badly-

-Yells incomprehensibly about how you’re ‘pulling your normie tricks on him again’ and how he’s ‘not going to be fooled by them anymore.’

-You raise your head to meet his eyes while he’s still rambling on though and he sees your teary expression and now he feels guilty because you look really upset. Levi’s kinda scared he made it worse-

-He’s the type to usher you in his room and lock the door as usual but instead of doing what the two of you always do, you literally stay attached to him because you need comfort damn it!

-Levi….is sort of clueless about these emotional outbursts since he himself doesn’t deal with them very well. However, he’s watched enough animes revolving around romance to conclude on the best course of action so-do not fear! (Spoiler, he still doesn’t know what he’s doing)

-He’s really stuck and can either stay as quiet as a nun or start babbling in a language you probably wouldn’t even understand because he’s so nervous

-Or actually, he might start crying with you if I’m being fair; he’s very in sync with his Henry and your emotions

-Once he calms down, he’s actually not all that bad at comforting. Levi is a bit stand offish with his hugs at first but he relaxes into them and by now, you’re both standing by the side of his bed, with you leaning onto him and him holding your hand. He then intertwines your fingers together but subconsciously because he wouldn’t have the gall otherwise

-Later, he tells you to help yourself with the snacks he has hidden in his room. I guarantee you he has a whole ass mini refrigerator hidden somewhere for his all night gaming session, in case he needs any boosts. No one knows how Beel hasn’t found the stash yet and there’s no need to tell him

-Then you watch re runs of old shows together and make fun of the shitty editing and dialogue. He’s still holding your hand though and he’s really flustered and wondering if it’s too sweaty for you but don’t mention it because he’ll get even more embarrassed

-He glances over to you, every once in a while, whilst you’re cuddled up against his arm, eyes glued on the TV, to make sure you’re OK. You almost gave him a seizure or at least that’s how he felt-so he made it his mission to make you feel better by any means necessary. Fuck today’s raids, his team can get them done without him!!

“I-I don’t know why you would want me of all people to hug you but…” he trailed off in a whisper, having to lean down so you could wrap your arms against his neck and bury your head in his shoulder. He pulled you in closer, a streak of protectiveness coursing through him as he shut the door to his room with his foot “Lord of the Shadows would never leave Henry all on his own, so I’m not going to do that either. This is an important character development arc and-just, please don’t cry. I’ll give you more hugs, OK? Seeing you like this is not good for my heart-“ stopped mid sentence after realising what he just said and now he’s the one burying his head in your shoulder, flushed beyond hell “Forget I just said that! Holy Lord Diavolo this is embarrassing, why am I like this????”

Satan:

-It troubles him greatly to see you like this and he can sort of feel the world shift out of place, seeing you with tears running down your face and hands balled into fists out of frustration almost immediately makes him fly into a fit of rage because who would dare to hurt you-

-Oh, a hug? If that’s all you need, he’s more than happy to oblige but if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he wonders if just a small embrace from him would be enough

-Satan’s hugs are very intimate and even passionate at times. He has one hand on the back of your head and the other supporting your lower back while you bawl your eyes out into his shoulder and getting his uniform wet

-You can’t really seem to focus on what he’s trying to tell you because he’s so warm and welcoming and even though he’s someone as renowned as the Avatar of Wrath, he’s shockingly patient with you as you let out the overwhelming emotions that have been consuming you all day

-It’s hard to not relax when you’re in Satan’s presence because he’s calm and he smells like musty, old books and mahogany wood and cats, meaning he was most likely cuddling strays he found on the street the entire day. The first visual that comes to mind is fire crackling behind a grate in a chimney and someone reading a book while swinging back and forth on an old, rickety chair when you’re around him

-He will wait until you’re no longer crying and then, before you know it, you find yourself in the library with him, drinking tea and being handed a plate of biscuits he took from the kitchen to help you regain your strength after all that crying. You’re still feeling pretty miserable about the day you’ve had but you quickly lose yourself in a conversation with him over a cup of tea

-Sometimes, you two talk for hours on end about nothing important just to hear each other’s voices and finally have some quality time spent together. Even though he wishes the circumstances were better, he’s glad to have been able to snatch you away from his brothers for a while and he’s even happier you chose him to confide in

-Satan practically doesn’t even mention your outburst and keeps the small talk minimal but he wants you to know that if you do wish to tell him about it, he’s more than happy to listen and he’s not so bad at giving advice either

-The topic of the discussion you were having with him changed abruptly by the end of the night and now you’re reading together from this book he started a while ago, both of you covered with a blanket, your head on his chest and his leaning on yours. He’s holding the book with both of his hands, but still managed to get his left wrapped around you. And because of this feeling of safety and warmth, you don’t feel desperate anymore. Tomorrow, you’ll be able to sort out your feelings but now, you’re content to just listening to Satan read, in his clear, soft voice

“Ah MC, could you turn the page for me?” You do as he asked to and you could feel him smiling as he kissed your hairline, sighing before going back to the book and the story within “Thank you. You truly are amazing, did you know that? I’ve never met someone as caring and as kind as you. Well, I suppose Beel could compete for the title but unlike him, you don’t really leave us in debt whenever we visit the grocery store.” Hearing you laugh makes him smile even more and he lets you hold the other side of the book while he plays with your hair and now you join in reading with him, out loud and trying to act out voices for the characters. As everything unfolds, Satan feels the world click right back into place.

Asmo:

-It’s a known fact by now that Asmo is willing to give you any sort of affection at any point in time, whether it’d be a hug, a kiss, holding your hand-you name it! I mean, whenever he’s feeling down, you being there to encourage him helps a lot so it’s only natural it works the other way around too!

-If he notices that you’re genuinely upset by something, then he would have no problem whatsoever with lavishing you in attention and really, a hug or two from him is the bare minimum in situations like this

-In any case, he always enjoys fussing over you and you having a bad day is the perfect excuse for him to do so! After all, he can’t disappoint you since you came to him with your troubles and he will do anything in his power to make you feel better. Actually, if he could, he would keep hugging you forever but as miraculous as his charm can be, it’s not effective against someone with this low of a morale

-His first suggestion is to take a bath! It’s his way of taking care of you; you’re tired after such a long day and he feels like you’re neglecting yourself a little because of it. So you relax in his bathtub with him for a while, him actively trying to get your mind off any bad, lingering thoughts while you splash around in the bubbles

-And obviously after that, you need to have your mandatory spa sessions with him since you need to unwind and what’s a better way to do that than to let him paint your nails and apply lotion to your skin? Besides, it creates a great opportunity for you to take things off your chest

-He’s in need to hear gossip constantly so if you don’t feel like talking, he’s gonna be a bit bummed out but he still respects your wishes enough to not push you. If your problem is as sensitive as the death of a family member, you’re not obligated to talk to him about it and he will understand, since people grieve in different ways. He too shut down after the death of Lilith for a while after all

-A bad day is nothing Asmo can’t handle. He’s had plenty of those before, mostly because of Mammon and his thievery, they’re usually common factors. It’s only natural you experience those yourself and he’s more than willing to be your support system if you need one. He wants you to know that you can go to him if you need advice or help with anything, or even if you just need to someone to hear you out

-To give a more detailed explanation of his hugs, they are usually really light and you never feel suffocated when you’re in his arms. He never squeezes you too tight and he always smells amazing, so you feel inclined to stay near him for as long as possible. Despite his overtly loud nature, he gets incredibly soft spoken with you and he traces patterns on your back and arms as you stand there together

-It’s important to mention, he never pulls away from you first. He lets you decide when you’ve had enough and when you’re ready to move on or if you require some other means of comfort

-And even if you’re no longer disgruntled, he’s still going to pamper you as much as possible the next day with either a shopping spree or another few spa sessions, this time done at a professional institution rather than the privacy of his bedroom

-Asmo is in touch with your emotions and it’s kinda scary sometimes because of how well he can read you, since he almost always knows what you need

“Oh darling, how could I refuse a hug from you?” You can feel his arms embrace you, even with your eyes closed and for some reason, this makes you cry even harder, sobbing as he tries to comfort you. You’re aware he let go of you at some point and returned with a tissue to dab away at your tears, gently to not hurt your eyes and now he’s hugging you again, a wry smile on his face “You don’t have to worry about a thing, MC. Everything will get sorted out, I promise. In the meantime, come to me if anything troubles you again, OK? No more crying, darling-it’s bad for your eyes.”

Beel:

-The type to immediately lean in for a hug without even questioning why. As soon as you ask him, you barely have time to finish the question and you already find yourself in his arms. The only exception would be when he’s eating or maybe in the middle of a work out but the point is he doesn’t hesitate much when it comes to you. And I mean, he loves hugs just as much as his siblings do

-Beel is not the most observant and he may not realise you’re in a bad mood unless you tell him outright. It’s not even that he’s emotionally distant, it’s just that if you tell him that you’re fine, then he’s gonna take your word for it and believe you since he’s pretty straightforward with his feelings as well. However, as dense as he may be on occasion, even he’s bound to notice that you’re not being your usual self and this is especially true if you start crying out of nowhere while he’s nearby. Probably assumes the worst and is under the impression that he did something to upset you because shifting the blame onto himself whenever others suffer is his coping mechanism and we’ve seen him to do it before

-If you’ve just had a bad day, he understands that things could’ve been very overwhelming for you and he wishes he had known sooner so he could’ve helped back then, instead of letting it come to this. But he doesn’t hesitate all that much since he looks like he’s built for giving hugs on a daily basis. I’m not even sure this would classify as a hug since you’re not touching the floor. Rather, you are attached to him like a koala and he’s carrying you around as if you were a baby strapped to his chest. And he genuinely doesn’t mind. He’s been doing it with Belphie for centuries now

-Please, after a while he gets seriously concerned because are humans supposed to cry this much? What if you dehydrate or something? So he makes you stay in bed and just gives you plenty of water. You look so pale and sad, he shares his food with you too because his heart is aching just looking at you like this. He feels like besides being there, he can’t provide you with much help and he’s starting to think he’s hopeless at comforting

-If a family member died then…Beel is one of the best people you could’ve gone to. Honestly, having dealt with his sister’s situation, he knows how horrible it is to lose somebody you love dearly (I mean, all the brothers do but I’m making a point saying Beel, Belphie and Lucifer were especially affected). Now he’s sad himself since he’s aware that you’re going through something similar and his twin might walk in on the two of you being emotional on the floor

-For the most part, Beel makes sure you keep yourself healthy even when you’re tired and depressed. Continues to bring you food, even if he eats half of it on his way to your room, and just keeps you company in general in case you get lonely. Seeing you upset makes him even more considerate of your feelings and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t need to stay with you all night. He thinks he does because you’ve always offered to stay with him whenever he’s had nightmares before so how he’s gotta return the favour

-Beel gives these bear hugs all the time, since he’s so big and his hand basically covers your entire back. So, more often than not, you end up cuddling while standing because he’s a lot taller than you, with him being a demon and all. Despite that, you feel so unbelievably complete when he holds you like this. It’s hard not to feel protected since his whole body is practically concealing yours so easily all the time and you feel sheltered from the world and it’s….nice

-And Beel enjoys hugging you too, because he knows that as long as he’s nearby, you’ll be safe and that’s really all he needs. He wants to be there for you the same way you were there for him when he needed it most and comforting you when you’re having a shitty day is like his full time job

-You could come to Beel with any problem and he would never judge you, no matter what. He’s just really unproblematic and he just wants you to go back to your normal self because it hurts him to see you cry your eyes out. Now, not only are hugs mandatory but holding your hand is too. It’s like hugging…but your hands are doing the hugging

-Definitely even goes to Belphie after a while if he really doesn’t know what to do and that’s how you know he’s desperate to do something. Since the Seventh Born isn’t exactly someone that yields great advice, more so when it comes to other…people….and his twin knows this-

-Beel’s best strategy at the moment is to just maintain some kind of physical contact because he discovered that makes you feel better and it calms you down more than him trying to verbally console you. He even invited you to sleep in his room if you’re comfortable doing so just so you’re not alone. After that one incident, he’s trying to coax you to tell him whenever something is wrong so he can jump in and help, because that’s all he really wants to do ahakenksms

“MC? Did something happen?” He’s honestly taken aback by how shaky you are and how you’re hands are trembling as they’re reaching to connect with his. Without much of a warning, he feels a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and now he discovers that he doesn’t like seeing you with tears trailing down your face. And he feels worse the longer you wail in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do. So, he wraps his arms around you so tight you think you might explode, strangely comforted by the feeling as he speaks again “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you. What can I do to help, MC? We can just stay like this for a while if you want” And when he sees you nod, he proceeds to not move an inch almost the entire night. Obviously, hunger overtook him eventually but he shared his stolen goods with you so can you really complain? Doubtful, not when he hasn’t let go of your hand the whole time.

Belphie:

- Hugging him is a gamble. Realistically speaking, you’re not going to catch him standing upright long enough for you to give him a hug. He’s laying on the floor somewhere, asleep so you shouldn’t expect much from him to begin with. Even if you were to get lucky and stumble upon him while he’s wide awake, he might slump over and succumb to sleep the moment you embrace him because you’re so warm

-Cuddling is a different story altogether. He’d rather shoot himself in the foot than not have you cuddle with him so if you need to be babied for once, he’s a pretty good option to consider

-As usual, he’s in the attic and you go to him because it’s really late and you didn’t want to wake up any of the other brothers. Actually, Belphie is normally awake by dusk so to see him sleep like a log past midnight was quite surprising. You didn’t exactly want to interrupt but if you stayed alone for any longer, you would’ve gone insane. So you shook him awake. And he was understandably confused and probably forgot what planet he was on for a minute when you did so

-Technically, he was half awake and from his point of view, everything must’ve been pretty blurry. He did see you; the problem was that because he was still feeling very sleepy, he was basically in a daze and could only squint at you to try and figure out if you were really there or if he was hallucinating. His suspicion was confirmed soon enough because he reached out after a few seconds and poked your cheek just to check. His face the entire time and the action itself was so amusing that, despite tittering on the edge of a breakdown, you burst out laughing

-Once he came to the conclusion that you were, in fact, real and he wasn’t dreaming, he sighed and opened his arms out for you; a direct invitation to cuddle with him. By now, he likely didn’t even noticed you looked sad because, as I said, he was all over the place but this little ritual you two have was common enough that it got engraved in his memory. Now he does it out of impulse whenever you’re around and he wants attention

-So you basically tackled him and threw yourself on top of him so hard, both of you toppled over on the bed and now you were used as a blanket, with his arms wrapped securely around you; preventing you from getting up. Not that you were planning on doing that anytime soon but moving on-

-You thought he had fallen back asleep, because he went really quiet and he stopped squirming to get comfortable. To be exact, the whole room was rather still and the only thing you could really hear was Belphie’s soft breathing and the rustle of the bedsheets every once in a while. And since it was extremely dark as well, you couldn’t see a thing either so it felt like the best place to let go of your stress

-It’s not like you were making much noise but as I said, the seventh born wasn’t sleeping just yet. And he wouldn’t be able to because it was obvious to him now that something was wrong. He believed that he was bearing witness to something that should’ve been a lot more private than this so he didn’t say anything. You should have your moment, let you have a chance to recollect your thoughts and the next day, he might ask you

-It was too much to handle. It’s not like he was gonna get any sleep unless he knew your problem was solved otherwise he might get nightmares all night. Besides, if you’re crying this much, then something terrible must’ve happened. You realised he was awake when he gave your entire body a small squeeze, as if to reassure you and you froze because did you just wake him up???? Or worse, did he hear all that sobbing you were doing????

-Hugging him is similar to hugging a pillow. He’s soft and squishy and warm and it’s impossible to resist him when rest at a time like this is so tempting. His fingers running over your pact mark once or twice, as if to remind you that he’s right there and low whispers describing the best dream he ever had about you, hoping to distract you for long enough to help you fall asleep

-To him, it doesn’t make a difference if a family member died or if you’re just having a bad day. All he knows is that you’re having a lot of emotional problems because of either one and as a result, you need a shoulder to lean on. He’s glad that you trust him enough to let him assist and if it was up to him, he would keep cuddling you forever. You’ve already suffered enough so let him take care of you this time around, OK?

“Dumbass, why are you crying?” The gentleness of his words was a clear contrast to that quick insult he shoved at the beginning of his statement, though you couldn’t hear any malice behind it and the fact that he really cared about what happened to cause you to struggle with your emotions so badly, would’ve made you wail even harder. However, he managed to silence you pretty well because he kept speaking and you wanted to listen; you wanted to hear what he had to say so you reduced your sobs and you sat quietly enough to do just that. Belphie flipped you over, now with him on top and you underneath and he laid there, cheek sloshed against yours as he sleepily mumbled out more praise for you, “MC, are you tired? You should go to bed, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, you can tell me what the problem is and I’ll help. I promise-I’ll even get up early for you. Just…please calm down. I don’t want to see you crying yourself to sleep ever again. I’ll stay here the entire time, alright? And I’ll make sure you have nice dreams tonight MC…just let me hold you…”

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moemammon · 3 years

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When I was in High School, my crush and I got into a fight and neither of us were talking to each other. One day I was headed up the stairwell to get to my science class, when I saw them coming up from behind... I don't think they had even noticed me yet considering that they were busy talking to their friend BUT I am slow going up stairs so even if I rushed up the stairs roadrunner style they would have caught up to me, well; the little corner that connects the steps going up to the second floor and the steps heading down to the ground floor had a large open window... and I jumped out, like I literally just jumped out. I didn't even think it through, I just saw the window and my body was like "Yep, IK what to do." I landed on a bush or tree? It's too big to call a bush but too small to call a tree, landed in a squat before my feet gave out and I fall onto my knees and got two large grass stains on my jeans knee part, couldn't walk right either after that landing, I was shaky all day lol but it was a risk well calculated bc the whole thing would have been so awkward. I mean we used to be like BFFS before the rumors began and then they started and we just stopped talking without warning, we couldn't even look at each other. Our science partners, bc we were in groups of four, literally got fed up of our bullshit bc we literally refused to acknowledge the others existence... anyway, I digress...

Anyway, this whole story is a long winded way of me requesting how the brothers would react to an MC that literally just jumps out windows to avoid awkward moments, or to dodge people that want to ask them for favors, or when they straight up want to avoid someone?

And sorry about the large ass message, but thanks for letting me vent

You have a special place in my heart, window-jumping anon. Just uhhhhhhh look down next time okay? Ily

The Demon Brothers react to GN!MC jumping out of a window to avoid an awkward moment

(Mario jumping sound effect)

Lucifer

He approached you after class to ask exactly what you were snickering at your D.D.D. about during class.

Must've been real funny if you weren't listening to your lecture, huh?

"I imagine you've somehow found something worthy of laughing about in Demonology 101?"

You do not have the guts to tell him that you and Mammon were texting back and forth, abusing a new photo editing app to alter pictures of the eldest himself.

I mean, take a wild guess about how he’d react to seeing how big you edited his head to be-

The avatar of pride lets his eyes pierce into you, like he's trying to stare a hole through your blanket of "uh"s and "um"s,

You don't exactly see a way out of this one, but you can NOT let Lucifer see your photo gallery.

So you glance to your left to the open classroom window, and do the only thing you can think of: you jump.

Luckily you're on the ground floor so you??? really didn't have to jump so dramatically. But the fact that you yeeted yourself into a bush JUST to escape has left Lucifer speechless.

Honestly? He so impressed with your dedication that he's not gonna stop you. Besides, he's gonna see you back at home anyway so-

Also thinks you might be hanging around Mammon too much because that 100% seems like a stunt he’d pull.

Mammon

GIVE GOLDIE BACK RIGHT NOW

He KNOWS Lucifer told you to bring the credit card to him, and he demands to know where it's hidden! He's positive you know where it is!

But you don't really though?? You just brought the card to him like you were asked. If anything, you're the victim here!

But Mammon isn't having that. The avatar of greed is circling around you like an angry cat, patting you all over like airport security to see if you've got his beloved card.

"Where is it, huh?! Ya really think you can steal from THE Mammon?! Even if Lucifer told ya to, who do ya think you are?!"

When he has confirmed that you don't in fact have his previous Goldie, he's now cornering you up against a wall.

If looks could kill, you would've exploded into a fine powder

And you feel like your mental strength is about to do just that. So what do you do after you notices the slightest of breezes caress your face?

You jump outta that open window, before Mammon can even finish his "Wh- Oi! What're ya-"

Even though you just face planted into the garden, you're up on your feet and making a mad dash for somewhere that wasn't here.

Mammon lets you run for ten while seconds before he's hopping out after you. You think you can outfox the Great Mammon?! Think again!!!

Levi

You... weren't interested in this movie in the slightest, but you didn't have the heart to tell Levi that. Especially not after he’d begged/harassed you for the past week about watching it with him!

Reluctantly you agreed, and now you were suffering,,,But Levi was ecstatic! This movie was a classic! Sure it was an old one and the acting was a little bad, but you could overlook that if you watched it with your heart, not your eyes!

According to Levi.

You managed to keep your eyes open for the grueling one and a half hour movie, enduring every corny line of bad acting, horrible CGI, and lame sound effects straight out of a 90s super hero movie, and now the hell was finally over...

Or so you though, until Levi followed that up by immediately pulling out a cosplay outfit worn by one of the supporting characters in the show.

Funny how it seemed specifically tailored to your measurements. Even funnier how Levi was looking at you with those damned eyes.

You knew what he wanted without him even having to say it. But one look at the gaudy outfit he presented to you made your heart burn with a sudden indescribable urge.... to escape.

Honestly you caught him so off guard by suddenly getting up and sprinting out of the room, that he makes a sound that's pretty much the noise equivalent of "?!?!?!?!?!?"

He watches you run down to the end of the hall, throw the window open, and fuckin JUMP. Pretty sure he just witnessed your death??

Also this kinda solidified his 'gross otaku' mentality, seeing as you literally jumped out of a window to get out of cosplaying with him. A simple no would've sufficed, MC.......,.,,..,,,

Hey gamers... can we get an F in the chat? 😔✌️💦

Satan

Satan lent you a book to read last week that he was sure you'd be interested in! He found it pretty interesting himself, so he wants to see if you'd like it as much as he did.

That being said, you don't have the heart to tell him that you,,, didn't read any of it. Well you kind of did, if the cover counts for anything.

You doubt he would accept that as an answer, considering how you told him how much you appreciated receiving the book, and how you'd definitely read it and let him know how it was.

So now, Satan had come into your room with two cups of tea, ready to settle down and have a nice, long talk about your thoughts on the riveting plot that you promised you would indulge in.

"I'm really glad you decided to read it. I found that the protagonist reminded me a lot like you. I'd like to know what you thought about it."

Satan sets down the tea cups, and one sip tells you that he brewed it exactly the way you like.

His expression is eager and warm as he waits for you to begin gushing about just how deeply the story touched you... how absolutely moved you are by the sheer majesty that was the book he lent you...

Okay yeah, you're sweating bullets. You can't imagine how the sparkly eyed avatar of wrath would react to learning that you chose the company of your D.D.D. over Satan's book.

You don't have such an ice cold hard that you can just crush this book nerds dreams like that! And every time you look at his expectant face, the weight of your crimes weigh heavier on you until... you break.

Satan watches in shock and awe as you almost perfectly reenact the big scene where the main character leaps out of the window of a building rigged to explode, before making their escape. And you did just that.

Wow.. he never thought you could be so moved by a story, but he completely understands...

Asmo

How many outfits, Asmo. HOW MANY OUTFTITS WILL IT TAKE TO APPEASE YOU?

He's made you model TWELVE outfits so far, and you swear if you see another ascot, you're gonna lose your mind.

Asmodeus doesn't seem to notice the way the light slowly fades from your eyes, because he's pulling out outfit number thirteen with that cheery smile of his.

"Isn't this one absolutely adorable? Look, this part will look lovely around your waist! This part here hugs your body in all the right places, and this-"

You can't do it. You've gotta get out of here. You'd love to stand around and get mild rug burn from trying on a billion different clothes, but-

Actually no you wouldn't.

You DID promise Asmo you'd hang out with him today, but this wasn't really your idea of a good time.

"-Oooh, just thinking about it makes me want to eat you up~! Here, put it on for me, will you? I'll give you a kiss as a reward!"

You would do no such thing.

You make a mad dash for his ornate window and push it open. He has no time to stop you as he helplessly watches you vault yourself out like the room was on fire.

"MC?! Wh-where are you going?? Come back here! Grass stains are impossible to get out of that fabric!!!"

Beel

He means well. I swear he does. It's just that Beel can be a little... overbearing when he's worried about you. He cares, okay?

But he hasn't seen you eat anything all day! You tell him it's because you've got a stomach ache from who knows what, and you promise you've had little snacks here and there to keep from starving, but he can't accept that!

Eating is important, and you need it to survive. So Beelzebub was currently trying to nudge your mouth open with a pizza slice, while you vehemently refused. "Just one bite. And then another after that. You have to eat, or you'll go hungry... and I don't want that."

Beel knows the true pain of being hungry, and he’d never wish that on you! So just forget about your stomach ache for two seconds and open up-

Not that you really can. The aroma of that pizza was not sitting well on your stomach, and you were pretty sure you needed a fast escape or you'd risk losing your lunch. Greasy foods didn't exactly mix well with sour stomachs...

Beel still won't let up. He has a strong hand planted firmly on the small of your back, as if trying to prevent you from leaning back any further in your attempt to escape the pizza.

"If you eat this, I'll treat you to dessert at Madam Screams," he says, as if bribing your refusal of food USING food will somehow work out.

You can't break his heart, but you seriously can't eat that! Your head is spinning, thoughts racing, face becoming greasier and greasier from the pizza pressed against it, and-

You snap. In a sudden burst of strength you break free from Beel's grasp, and sprint toward the nearest window. All you see is your chance for freedom, and you're taking it.

You leap out and tumble into the ground, all while Beelzebub wonders what?? Just happened???? Did you really hate pizza that much...?

He never knew you were such a picky eater... To think you'd go so far as to jump out of the window though...

Belphie

You thought it was cute at first, when Belphegor wanted you to join him for his naps. And you didn't mind much. It was the weekend, you were tired, and he makes a pretty good body pillow.

But you didn't realize he planned for this to become an everyday thing. The youngest might not act it, but he sure could be spoiled.

But seriously, if you slept any longer, you might never have a normal sleep schedule again! It never occurred to you just how often Belphie sleeps.

He's definitely not human, because there's no way you can keep up with that, and maintain a normal lifestyle.

But the way he quietly, gently grabs your sleeve to cue your next nap session makes your heart clench. Why was it so damned hard to say no to this gremlin??

You were trying your best though, but the words always seemed to get caught in your throat. Belphie picked apart your excuses, doing everything in his power to take you back to the attic.

"You can study when you wake up." "Mammon wants to go shopping? Reschedule." "Lucifer told you not to be late to the board meeting? Just hide."

You're starting to get sucked into the sleepy lull of his voice, and it feels like your entire body is becoming heavy with fatigue. But no.... you resist!

Since there's no escaping this through words, you have to think fast. Fortunately, your fast thinking has led to an amazing solution!

Jump out of the window, baby

Belphie is just??? Did you fuckin???? Are your legs okay??????????????

He probably stops asking you to nap with him for a while, since you're willing to almost break your legs just to get out of it. You're gonna make him have weird dreams....

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