#why skin gets dry during winter
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god i need winter to be over my skin is so fucking dry 😭
#its never been this bad during previous winters#but no matter how much water i drink and how much skincare i do i still end up with painfully dry skin#to the point where im having trouble sleeping#and also before ur like ''maybe its the alcoholism?'' im way ahead of you#ive been an awful alcoholic during the winter in previous years while drinking LESS water and my skin was still softer and less dry#than it is rn#idk why my body decided THIS was the year i would get crocodile skin but i fuckin HATE IT#and im fairly confident the weather is guilty
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you made me hate this city
summary: It was just a stupid bet. A way to prove Jason and his asshole friends wrong, to finally get under the blonde's skin. It was never supposed to end with Eddie falling in love, nor with him laying on your doorstep with bruised knees, begging for your forgiveness.
tags: Eddie x fem!reader, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, ice queen/social outcast reader, Hopper!reader (goddaughter), reader is 18+ (impli. twenties), fluff, humor, angst, happy ending tho ofc
☆ word count: 17K+ (i stg it's worth it) ☆
⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️
Winters in Hawkins were unbearable.
Eddie's fingers - dry skin cracking by his knuckles, pink lines marred by green veins poking out of his skin - shakily held up the lit joint to his chapped lips, allowing him to inhale deeply and let out a slow drag of smoke. Much like his muted breaths, the white whisps of air curled upwards in lazy swirls before dissipating into the night air, providing a momentary release from the cold.
The freezing temperatures embraced Eddie just as quickly afterwards, making him grumble in discomfort, swearing under his breath for how long Jason and his group of friends were taking to finish the damn basketball game. The heat provided from his van was rather weak - the heater having blown a fuse a week ago which he had yet to fix - and his jean jacket did little to provide any additional warmth as he grasped the lapels of the jacket and pulled it closer towards his body.
God, where were those assholes?
As if fate had been listening to his internal monologue, Eddie soon heard the crunching of snow beneath several pairs of feet accompanied by the recognizable rowdy chatter between the basketball players. Leading the group as usual was Jason Carver - the blonde's signature smug expression replaced by one of annoyance - followed by his two best friends, a brunette and a redhead who were practical carbon copies of each other (muscular airheads with big egos and loud voices). Not that Eddie could really distinguish between the basketball players at Hawkins High. They all tended to come from the same pool of people.
Tall, fit, conventionally attractive, white males from cushy upper class backgrounds.
Unfortunately, that also meant jocks were one of his most profitable clients. Hence why Eddie had dragged his van and stash of goods half-way across town during winter break in the freezing cold. Having waited a staggering twenty minutes with nothing more than a jean jacket to keep him company, he was simply looking forward to finalizing the deal and to be able to drive back home to fall underneath the covers.
"You got the goods, freak?" Nate, the tall brunette, yelled out in advance, clapping his meaty hands together. Eddie had to actively suppress an eyeroll - no matter how many times he regularly dealt with them, they'd never even gone so far as to call him by his real name. Wordlessly kicking open the back of his van, he pulled off the green tarp overlaying the interior to reveal a hefty amount of weed, neatly packaged in plastic containers and paper bags.
"What'd you want?" the metalhead asked, voice monotone and face straight - completely immune to their presence at this point. The transaction was, after all, a regular routine at this point so as to make Eddie's reactions automatic and reflexive. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as he could.
The basketball player standing next to Nate, a slim redhead named Oliver, cut into the conversation whilst brushing falling snowflakes off of his varsity jacket with a frown.
"Give us everything, son of satan."
"Everything?" Eddie raised his eyebrows, unable to hide his surprise. Jason only clicked his tongue at that, left hand coming up to swiftly comb through his hair - the blonde was on edge, that was as clear as daylight to see.
"Yeah, jackass, just give us what you got. I'm throwing a massive party and my parents are in California for another two weeks so I need all you got."
"That'll be $1,500." Eddie slowly said, eyeing the blonde up and down, expecting the man to pull out of the deal at any moment. Instead, the jock only let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his duffel bag to the floor before digging out a wad of cash.
"That's a shit ton of money you're blowing on weed, Carver." Oliver commented, slapping his friend's shoulder.
"Not enough money to impress (Y/n) though, apparently." Nate added from the side, causing both him and Oliver to crack up at the expense of a fuming Jason, the blonde's fists clenching tightly by his sides.
"Fuck off, would you?" the blonde shrugged his friend's arm off of his shoulders quickly, eyes burning with annoyance and betrayal. Eddie knew he wasn't supposed to be listening in on their conversation, his brown eyes still focused on the stack of notes in his hands as his fingers combed through each bill one by one. But his ears perked up at the mention of your name and he couldn't help but listen in closer as Jason's teammates laughed even harder at their leader's expression of fury.
"I'm telling you. Your daddy's money and status may get you everything you want, but not even you can win over the ice queen of Hawkins High." Nate drawled, with Oliver nodding eagerly behind him.
Jason only rolled his shoulders forward at that, unclenching his jaw with a frustrated sigh.
"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that she was going to throw her drink on me and call me a 'blonde bimbo in ugly basketball shorts' just cause I asked her out?"
The chuckle that escaped from Eddie's lips was dangerous, but he couldn't help but let out a short laugh at the recollection of your comment, subjecting himself immediately to the harsh gazes of the three jocks. Jason in particular looked offended at that, cracking his knuckles and flashing the metalhead a stinging glare.
"You think that's funny, Munson?"
Counting up to the last thousand - damn, Jason really had handed him $1,500 on the dot - Eddie looked up at Jason with a sly smile, shaking his head lightly side to side.
"Meh, just a little. Doesn't matter though. You got the cash, I got the weed." he replied before stepping to the side, signaling for Nate and Oliver to begin shoving the packets of weed into their duffel bags. Whilst they did so, Jason slowly walked forward towards Eddie, an egotistical swagger to his steps.
"What? You think you can do better, freak?
"Asking girls out? Eh, maybe." Eddie decided to goad the blonde further, enjoying the delicious cruelty of being able to toy with the fragile ego of the star basketball player. Watching how Jason's neck strained at that comment, adam's apple bopping up and down.
Suddenly, the angry expression on Jason's face melted away into a wide grin, a new delightful idea seemingly having popped into his mind.
"Tell you what, freak. Let's wager a bet." Jason's tongue dragged across his lower lips slowly, his eyes were glinting with a certain kind of danger Eddie couldn't quite place. "You think you're such tough shit, that you're so much better than me - why don't you go after (Y/n)? If you can somehow get the infamous ice queen to say yes to a date, you win."
"And what exactly would I win?"
"I'll pay double the usual for all our dealings. Heard through the grapevine your shitty trailer home's overdue for a fix, no?"
Oliver and Nate cackled behind Jason at that comment, igniting fiery hatred in the metalhead's veins. Jaw feeling stiff, he forced himself to sit up straight, staring right back at the jocks.
"... That, and you leave me and my friends alone for the rest of the year."
"For that price, you'll have to have her say yes to prom too!" Oliver yelled out from the side, to which Jason nodded.
"Get her to say yes to dates and then prom, and then we'll say you win. I pay double, you can fix your shitty dump you call a house, and we'll stop bothering you and your band of freaks. Deal?"
It was no different to staring the devil in the face, devious and cruel smirk matched with voice dripping with venom as the blonde extended one hand forward. Eddie stared at it for a few seconds, contemplating his decisions: his uncle had tried to be sly about money problems but winter was only getting colder, and now that he had Dustin, Lucas and Mike in the group, he did want the bullying to stop against his group.
Swallowing his doubts, Eddie quickly shook Jason's hand, never once breaking eye contact.
"Deal."
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First week back from winter break.
Eddie has been agonizing over how to even approach you. He's only spoken to you once before.
Actually, that may be an overstatement, he thinks, now looking back.
Eddie was being blocked from accessing his locker as a group of cheerleaders gossiped in the hallways, each of them blatantly ignoring Eddie's quiet pleas for them to move. When he coughed loudly and tried to wiggle through the crowd, the two head cheerleaders by the front shot him a nasty glare, the blonde one even going so far as to look him up and down and smirk.
"Thought I smelled trailer trash. Piss off, freak."
"I'm just trying to get to my locker, Joanne." he'd deadpanned - normally, he would've just walked away by now but he really needed to get to his fucking locker for that damn history textbook.
"Well we're too busy catching up about the rager Dianne went to last week in Idaho, so you can wait, okay?" the other head cheerleader, a petite raven haired girl named Sandra, snapped. That elicited a crowd of giggles to erupt amongst the group, and Eddie sighed again, running a hand down his face in exasperation.
"Look-"
"Didn't know this was the hangout spot for superficial barbies skipping their geometry classes." you sneered, coy smirk dancing on your glossy lips. The group of girls instantly froze at the sound of your voice, causing even the two head cheerleaders by Eddie to straighten up in fear.
"What'd you want, (L/n)?" Joanne stuttered out, the low pink flush in her cheeks clearly marking her embarrassment and fear. Eddie watched in awe as you simply stared the cheerleader down, dissecting the girl's layers with one glare and a low chuckle under your breath.
"For you and your fake friends to leave, obviously. What, too dumb to even figure that out?"
"Y-you can't make us leave! You have no authority to command so." Sandra blurted out, eyes darting away to the floor when you redirected your fiery gaze at her. Eddie had to admit, you were kind of terrifying - sharp eyes drawn forward, head held high, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack.
"Is that so?" you questioned, stepping one step closer to the crowd of cheerleaders, all of whom instinctively backed up against the wall. Pink tongue tracing your lower lips, you cocked your head to the side in feigned interest. "I guess you only ever listen to the authority of Joanne's boyfriend, huh, Sandra? When he's leaving hickies on your neck and blowing off dinners with Joanne for you?"
"You did what?!" Joanne screamed out in anger at her best friend, causing Sandra to begin running in the opposite direction. Sensing a battle brewing between their two leaders, the rest of the cheerleaders deserted the hallway, leaving you and Eddie alone in the aftermath. You rolled your eyes, shoving away the last cheerleader evacuating the scene before Eddie's left hand reached out to grab your wrist.
"W-wait." he stuttered out, hesitant. You looked down at his hand with a cold glare, before staring back up at him in annoyance.
"What."
"Thank you for standing up for me. I mean, no one's ever talked back to the popular kids for me before. It's really cool of you." he rambled, hands fidgeting by his neck, not being able to quite meet your gaze upon feeling chills run down his spine at your icy demeanor. Your only response to his comment was to aggressively shake off his hand, recoiling from his touch as if you'd been burnt.
"I wasn't doing any of that for you, Munson. They were in the way to my Chemistry class."
Turning on your heel, you disappeared into the foreground before Eddie could muster up a response.
The rumors were true, he realized. You were exceptionally beautiful - it was no wonder that you were rumored to be scouted by the cheerleaders by third period on your first day (had you not literally dumped an iced coffee over their leader when she'd approached you during lunch). Even when you were snarling at him, arms crossed in a defensive posture and chilling orbs glaring daggers into his eyes, he couldn't help but feel warmth rise to his cheeks from being able to gaze at your face up close.
But Eddie wasn't able to focus on your features much - the dip of your neck leading down to the valley of your breasts, your glossy lips and bright eyes, jaw and cheeks carved by the harsh sunlight - when you'd snapped at him and turned the other way.
Staring down at his now empty hands, he shrugged. You were indeed, an ice queen.
Cut to the present, Eddie's hiding behind the door of his own locker, peeking out at the hallway every few seconds to watch you shuffle through your own belongings. Headphones around your ears, Walkman tape bouncing alongside your side as you pull down a stack of books from the top shelf, your skirt rides up ever so slightly to bunch at your waist.
To any passing stranger, you may even look sweet at the moment - soft body hugged by the green fabric, knee high socks, lipstick cautiously being applied by the small mirror taped to your locker door.
But Eddie knows better. The whole school knows better, with the way everyone makes a point to avoid you. Cheerleaders stop walking and turn the other way, the jocks avoid your gaze and keep as long of a distance from you, and even the nerds and band geeks make sure to walk with their head down and mind their steps to not bump into you.
"What are you looking at?" Dustin suddenly jumps in, face few inches from Eddie, causing the older boy to straighten up in surprise and hit his head against the wall. Clutching his head where it's beginning to bruise, he makes it a point to glare at the curly haired freshman, who only flashes him an innocent smile.
"Ouch, what the hell, Henderson?" Eddie grumbles.
"You got that 'I'm lost in my thoughts' look on your face. And I was just curious as to what could be so interesting to have you staring off into space."
"It's nothing." Eddie quickly blurts out, practically slamming his locker shut and leaning against it with a faux grin, cool relaxed posture with his arms crossed. Dustin doesn't buy that, only frowning in disbelief, before leaning to the side to peek towards where Eddie was staring.
The only person really visible is you, thumbing through your notebooks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"Holy shit, were you... staring at (Y/n) (L/n)?" Dustin semi-shouts out of shock, forcing Eddie to practically grab the younger boy by the front of his t-shirt and yank him backwards, narrowly avoiding the curious look you throw behind your back upon hearing your name be shouted out.
"Keep your damn voice down, geez." Eddie swears, heart thrumming with anxiety. Dustin's face only quirks up in semi-annoyance, his left hand coming up to slap across the senior's chest.
"Why were you staring at her?"
"I was not staring at her." Eddie weakly responds. It's a total lie and they both know it, with Eddie unable to even look Dustin straight in the face.
"Listen, I know you're crazy and your whole thing is going against the grain - which I think is awesome, don't get me wrong. But getting involved with her? That's a death wish, man. She's fucking scary." Dustin shudders, shaking off faux chills as you slam your locker shut and shove past a group of cowering teens, not even sparing them a second glance.
Cursing internally, the metalhead swallows his comments and forces out a grin.
"Relax, man. I'm not getting involved with anyone."
----------------------------------
Eddie finally gets the courage to talk to you on a rainy Friday afternoon. The parking lot's deserted and the sky's a murky gray, harsh showers slapping against dulled windows fogged up from the cold.
Tucking his roleplaying notebook underneath his left arm, carefree smile on his face from the fantastic D&D session he's just had, he almost walks past where you're leaning against the wall without acknowledging that you're alone.
You're so good at that, Eddie realizes: blending into the background, simultaneously being so eye-catching and beautiful to catch his attention, whilst also exuding an uninviting aura that makes his brain immediately divert his gaze elsewhere.
Tapping your converse shoes against the cement floor, your head is drawn downwards with your eyes narrowly focused in on a hardcover book Eddie can't read the name of. The entire hallway's deserted and Eddie realizes that now's the best time - more than ever - to make his first move.
"Hey. (Y/n), right?" he starts out, waving for your attention and flashing you his most charming smile. It doesn't even leave a dent on your face: lips still in a straight line, your head not even picking up to stare at him.
"What do you want?" you drawl out, flipping a page with your thumb. He fumbles on what to say next, not used to having to speak to someone who won't even look at him - at the very least, he thinks, when jocks are jeering at him or cheerleaders are insulting him, they flash him a dirty glance.
"Tutoring." is the first thing that leaves his lips and that does the job of causing you to still and look up at him with your eyebrows raised, mocking grin on your face.
"Tutoring? You do know that I'm barely passing all my classes, right?" you spit out, unimpressed. Stranded, Eddie's hands fly up in mock surrender, voice edged with nerves as he forces out a laugh.
"Yeah uh, no, I meant like... I could tutor you."
You chuckle at that - a dry, bitter sound that makes him cringe - perfectly manicured fingers curling to point accusingly at his figure.
"You, Eddie Munson, repeat senior - tutoring me? Yeah right. Fuck off, won't you?"
Licking his lips, Eddie takes in a deep breath, ready to try and persuade you again when the loud honking of a car cuts in. Looking over your shoulder, he can see the faint outline of a truck and a man sitting by the front of the driver's seat, shouting your name. He can't make out much about the man's features - the glass windows fogged up and obscured by the pouring rain - and you brush past Eddie with ease, shoulders colliding with his.
"Well that went well." Eddie sarcastically comments under his breath.
Maybe this bet isn't going to work out, he bitterly thinks, kicking a small pebble in his way.
Then it's Monday. And thank god for Ms. Rogers of his American History class - because she announces a new group project, and the pairings just so work out to pair you and him together. Eddie has to conceal the rush of joy and relief when he sees his name hastily scrawled next to yours on the whiteboard, keeping his face straight and outwardly disinterested when he sits down next to you.
"Hey there, partner." he jokes, sliding his chair closer to the table. Your gaze remains fixated on your nails, your only acknowledgment of his presence being the rolling of your eyes. "How's life?"
"Life is life, Munson." you spit, harsh gaze shifting a fraction to cast him a dirty glance. It makes him feel small, goosebumps rising across his skin from the way your lip snarls and your voice tightens.
"Right, well, now that we're project partners we'll probably be seeing a lot of each other. Do you wanna meet up after school to discuss the basics?" Eddie trails off slowly, cautiously trying to survey your reactions.
He's silently bracing for another cruel remark - or maybe a disinterested eyeroll, coupled with a middle finger to his face - but to his surprise, you huff out a quick sigh and unclench your jaw.
"Fine. The library at 3.30."
"Oh actually, I was wondering if we could do later because technically we're supposed to have a Hellfire campaign tonight-"
You hold one hand up to his face, forcing him to shut up, before throwing him an annoyed glance.
"Do I look like I care? Reschedule."
All other arguments die in his mouth when the teacher begins to talk, signaling for everyone in the class to fall silent and redirect their attention to the front of the classroom. Eddie shifts to look forward, but he can't help but quickly glance at you from the corner of his eyes.
You look agitated, teeth biting down on the end of a yellow pencil, grinding down onto hard wood. Shoulder tensed, body braced forward as you lean onto your propped up arms. Eddie realizes then that he's never seen you relaxed. Or seen you smile, or hell, be anything other than aggressive and tense.
The thoughts of the bet with Jason re-enter his mind, which he's quick to scrub away in an attempt to pay attention. Above all, he supposes, he'd like to at least pass this fucking class so he's not a fourth time repeat senior.
The end of the school day arrives in a flash, it seems, with him anxiously jumping up and down on the balls of his feet outside the library whilst waiting for you to appear. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he then feels a warm hand on his back, twisting around clumsily to see your non-amused expression staring back at him.
"Come on, Munson. I don't have all day."
The first half an hour is painfully awkward. Eddie keeps on throwing jokes - "if I have to read another passage about a dead white man, I think I'm going to die myself" - and thoughtful compliments - "that's a really good idea, (Y/n), thank god we were paired together or else I would've failed" - but you don't seem the least bit deterred. Sitting at least five inches away from him, shoulders hunched over as your gaze remains fixated on the stack of papers strewn over the table surface. There's a permanent frown on your face, pulling down and wrinkling your features, coupled with an unwavering silence.
Eddie wonders what it'd be like if you smiled instead.
"So what do you think? I reckon pretty much everyone's going to do the easy topics - the ratification of the constitution or the fight for independence. So maybe it'd be better if we did something different, like maybe how the two party system emerged?" Eddie suggests lightly, leaning back on his seat, flashing you a hopeful smile.
You don't even look up at him, shrugging your shoulders.
"Sure, whatever."
"If you think there's something else we could do, I'd love to hear it." He's practically begging you to speak at this point, considering he's been the one filling the silence in the room for the past half hour.
"Don't have any ideas."
"You sure?"
"YES! Jesus christ, Munson, are you deaf?" you snap, looking up at him angrily.
"Alright, god, I'm sorry that I'm trying to include you in OUR project." he retorts, feeling his patience run dry. "You know-" He lets out a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I've been nothing but nice to you the past few weeks-"
"Why is that?" you press, voice suddenly quiet.
"W-what?"
His breath catches in his throat when you make full eye contact with him, yellow embers reflecting in your orbs from the light bulbs hanging overhead.
"I'm confused as to why you've been so nice to me lately, Munson. What's your end game?" you question, slamming your book shut. Eddie blinks at you silently like a fish out of water - what the hell is he supposed to say to that? It must look awfully odd from your point of view, he realizes, for you two to go from strangers to him trying to talk to you all the time.
But what's he supposed to say? "Jason Carver and I fought and we got into a bet that I could seduce you and bring you to prom because you're this notorious ice queen."
Yeah right.
Exhaling quickly, he just cocks his head to the side and feigns calmness.
"Maybe I just wanted to get to know you better."
"Me, seriously?" you scoff, clearly not believing him.
"Yeah! Look, I... I know what it's like for people at this shitty high school to not take you seriously or to make you feel like a complete outcast. I figured you could use a friend! Because no offense, I have the Hellfire Club, but I've never seen you with anyone but yourself."
He's being pretty sincere with that statement, and it seems to come through as you raise your eyebrows slowly in response, unreadable expression on your face.
"You've been... watching me?"
"Not in a creepy way! Just consider it, like, one outcast looking out for another."
It's the slightest change, a reflex that lasts for less than a second, but he catches the end of your lips twitch ever so slightly to indicate a grin. It disappears just as quickly it appears, but he catches it nonetheless, and it makes hope blossom in his lower abdomen.
"... Alright." you surrender, gaze slightly softer, voice no longer aggressive and defensive. It's impossible for him to conceal his joy at that.
"Really?"
"Yeah, Munson. I suppose I could be a bit nicer to you. But-" you poke him on the side with a spare pencil. "No promises. No pushing me into anything. We're hardly acquaintances, let alone friends. But I suppose if we need to work together on this stupid project together, we might as well get along. Okay?"
Eddie nearly pulls a muscle with how fast he nods in affirmation.
"Okay."
---------------------------------------
Tuesdays and Thursday evenings are from then on reserved for after school meet ups to work on the project. You're still characteristically you - full of mean comments, sassy eyerolls, judgmental gazes and all. But he does notice that as time goes on, you're snarling at him less and loosening up ever so slightly.
He's yet to seen you smile, however, though he's gotten close a couple of times. Like when he slipped on a banana peel whilst walking out the library with you last week or when yesterday, he made a dumb joke about a horrendous illustration of Thomas Jefferson in the textbook.
On a windy February afternoon, you two end up staying a bit later than expected. Eddie leaning against the wall, sitting on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed as he pours through five heavy leather bound books, you're hunched over a shitty desk lamp and a cup of coffee as you highlight passages from a textbook. Neither of you have cared to check the clock or have registered the fact that it's been a full two hours since the librarians notified you two that they're heading out.
"I think my brain's melting." he complains, slipping down the wall slowly in a dramatic fashion. You shoot him an amused glance, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth.
"Tough luck, devil boy. We've still got a lot more to read."
Eddie groans, rubbing his eyes with his metal ring clad fingers.
"I know, but it feels like we've been reading boring books in this stuffy room FOREVER now!"
The two of you pause at that, it suddenly dawning on both of you that the rest of the library seems oddly... dark. And quiet.
"Shit. What time is it?" you ask aloud, standing up so quickly that you topple your chair over. The nearest clock - hanging behind a row of oak bookshelves - indicates that it's nearly six thirty pm.
Far, far, later than anyone would be at school.
It's a scramble to dog-ear pages, organize the books in their relevant places and to shove all your belongings in to your respective bags before racing down the hallway to the front doors, which of course, are locked.
"Well, I guess we're gonna die here." Eddie remarks, dropping his hands from the front doors with a sigh. You slap him across the shoulder at that, though this time the action's more playful, more tongue in cheek.
"Relax, Munson. All we need is a phone, do you think the front office's phones still work?"
"Yeah. I would know, because they made a call to my uncle this morning to complain that I came in an hour late to first period."
"Classic Eddie." you comment, to which he visibly stiffens and stares down at you with awe. "What?" you press, confused at why he's suddenly looking at you like that.
"You said my name. Not Munson, not devil boy, not an insult."
To his quiet surprise, you seem to get embarrassed at that, eyes dropping to the floor as you shift nervously on your feet.
"I mean, that's your name, right? But if you prefer I call you like Munson instead I ca-"
"No, no." he lets out a gentle laugh, and a thought passes by your head like a bullet train that you really like it. It's soft, it's melodic, it's sweet: taste of sweet potatoes coated in cloud sugar on your tongue. "I really like hearing you say my name. Say it more."
Your lips quirk up again, signaling a potential smile, but it's not fully realized. But your shoulders do drop in a more relaxed manner, and you flash him an ambivalent glance.
"Sure."
After using a spare hairpin in Eddie's pocket to pick the lock to the front office, you jump over the counter to slide over the surface and reach the phone behind the desk. Eddie makes a joke about how you'd make an excellent spy - to which you throw him a dirty glare and signal for him to shut up - before you make a phone call. To whom, he doesn't know. But it's clear that you care for this person, as your voice becomes lower and less agitated.
"Hey. Yeah, sorry for worrying you. I was staying late with my project partner for American History and then... we lost track of the time and now we're locked in. Do you think you could come over and get us?" you pause, Eddie supposes it's to allow the person on the other line to respond. "Alright. Sounds good. See you soon."
"Who'd you call?" he quizzes, curious as he helps you slide off the desk, allowing you to grasp at his shoulders to jump off securely. He chooses to ignore the way his skin tingles with electricity when your soft hands grip at his skin, heat wrapping around his upper body.
"My godfather. But it'll probably take another half an hour for him to arrive so we should probably camp out by the front doors till then."
There's a good five minutes of uninhibited silence after that as you two sit by the front entrance. You're sitting across from him leaning against the lockers: one leg straight, the other propped up by your chest as you rest your arms on your knee and twist your body to look out the window. Eddie's sitting a few inches away from you, legs crossed, toying with the rings on his fingers.
It's not a tense silence, but it is boring.
"I didn't know you had a godfather." Eddie decides to say, looking up at you cautiously. "That's cool."
"Cool, huh?" you quip, tearing your gaze away from the window. "Not many people think that. Most people think it's fucking weird that I live with my godfather instead of my biological parents."
"Well most people are assholes and idiots. Don't listen to them." he argues, lacing his fingers together.
"That's true." you agree, nodding ambivalently. "What about you? You and your uncle? You two live by the trailer park, right?"
Neither of you delve into too much personal information - the conversation's restrained to surface level things, before somehow melting into a heated discussion over music. It turns out that you're a huge music fan, front pocket of your bag overflowing with cassettes, notebooks crumpled by the weight of your walkman and headphones.
"Listen, I can appreciate a good Billy Joel song and all, but Black Sabbath is god." Eddie insists, uncrossing his legs and gesturing frantically with his hands.
"Oh, please, Eddie! You're just saying that because your exposure to Billy Joel has primarily been Uptown Girl. He has some serious deep cuts, like you can't tell me that you're able to listen to Vienna without getting emotional."
"Hey, you can get PLENTY emotional to Black Sabbath."
"Really?" you quip, poking him in the shoulder, forcing him to fall back down on his heels. You're fully smiling at this point, eyes light and wide, lips outstretched into an actual grin. He really likes this sight, he thinks. The light even seems to hit you differently when you smile - carving shadows down your jaw, glittering light kissing your hairline, halo around your hair.
"Really. Pinky promise." Eddie argues, poking his pinkie finger out at you. You stare down at him, fully amused, shaking your head sideways at his antics.
"I'm not gonna pinky promise you shit." you mock, crossing your arm.
"Aw, come on." he leans in teasingly, backing you up against the lockers. He doesn't realize it, but your breath hitches in your throat at the action, as it hits you that he's so close that you can count the individual freckles adorning his cheeks and smell the mixed scents of pine, fresh rain and weed emanating from his jacket.
You both break away from your respective positions at the sound of the front doors unlocking, with a very unimpressed look on Hopper's face as he links back the keys to his belt and raises his eyebrows at you.
"Are you sure it was the project that made you late and not being with your boyfriend?" he drawls, forefinger outstretched to gesture between the two of you. You stand up so quickly you practically stumble forward, stuttering your words - you're so mortified, you can't even look at Eddie.
"Jesus, dad, NO! He's just a friend."
"Friend, huh?" Eddie teases, elbowing you on the side, to which you elbow him back harder (making him groan out in slight pain). He watches as the police chief's blue eyes narrow in on his figure, dissecting him with a single glance, before returning to stare at you. It registers in his mind that Hopper's eyes soften when they land on you, a small grin appearing on his aged face.
"Alright then. Good to see you've made friends, (Y/n)." he comments. You roll your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
"Speaking of which, Eddie needs to get going. Right?" you rush out, practically shoving Eddie forward. Eddie nods awkwardly, shooting the older man a (what he hopes is) charming smile before winking at you.
"Right. Thank you, sir, for saving us. (Y/n), I'll see you next Tuesday for the final bits of the project?"
"Yeah, see you."
The moment you hop into the front seat of Hopper's truck, you can practically feel the intensity of the the rush of thoughts in your godfather's mind, his heavy gaze alternating between the road and your anxious figure shifting against the leather seats.
"So... this Eddie. Your friend, huh?" he starts out, quiet.
"Just drive, Hop, jesus." you say out loud, leaning your head against the window, rubbing your temples in a soothing manner as if to cure a headache.
"Not commenting on it, sweetheart. Just saying it's nice to see you open up and make friends."
"A friend, dad. One. Singular." you correct, to which he just waves off your comment with a blow through his lips.
"Still. Maybe this'll help you adjust a bit better. You have been adjusting alright, right?"
He pulls over into the driveway of his house, hands lingering over the steering wheel as he glances over at you worryingly. Hopper's always been a protective godfather, never intrusive but often keeping a close watch on you from the background. You don't blame him for worrying, considering the whiplash of a turn your life's taken in the past few months.
Leaving your parents in New York, packing two bags of clothes before hitchhiking across the country to come all the way down to Hawkins to live with your godfather. Your 'real' parents are practically dead to you, hence why you've chosen to call Hopper 'dad', and you consider El to be your real life little sister.
You figure you're already asking so much of him: to take you in as his non-biological daughter, to provide you a place to sleep and eat, to pay for your schooling as you catch up on two years of high school you took off in New York. All of this, combined, has led you to be less than transparent about how you've been adjusting at your new school.
In fact, Hopper wouldn't even know anything about how you don't really have friends if it hadn't been for Mike and his big mouth, and El's sweet concerns being expressed to Hopper.
"I'm doing okay, dad. Seriously." you assure him, patting down on his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.
When your bedroom door finally closes behind you that night, it dawns on you as you're staring up at the ceiling - you've made a friend.
For the first time in a while, you fall asleep filled with joy and giddiness.
------------------------------------------
"Do you wanna come see my band play tonight?"
Eddie asks you on the final day of your project, closing your locker door for you, peering up at you with his doe like eyes. Your mind's been swimming with anxious thoughts all day - you're afraid that the only thing keeping your friendship afloat with Eddie is the project, which is due to be turned in today, and you're not sure what's going to happen once it's done.
So it's actually kind of a relief to have him beg you to see his band perform tonight, relief that you can't help but spill out into a small grin reflected on your lips.
"Corroded Coffin's playing tonight?"
"Yeah! And it's gonna be radical. Some of my other friends are gonna be attending too, so you won't have to show up alone."
"Aren't minors not allowed in seedy bars?" you tease. "Your friends are like, all freshman boys."
"Hey, I have friends that aren't Henderson or the other kids! Seriously, Steve and Robin are cool adults in their twenties and they will be there too."
"I don't think imaginary friends count." you continuously tease, walking away from him, as he follows right behind you.
"They're NOT imaginary! I swear, they're real people with real jobs and hobbies." Eddie pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. It's adorable, really, and you can't help but chuckle at his sad expression.
"Alright, alright, I'm joking! Sure, sounds good. When and where is it?"
"The downtown bar by the bookstore off the 45. Door's open at 7, but realistically we won't be playing till like 8.30 so feel free to come by then. I'll tell Steve and Robin to wait for you outside. They're cool, I promise."
You can't help but bite your bottom lip at that, anxiety gnawing at your chest.
"Are you sure? I just... I don't know if I'll get along with your friends, that's all. I mean, it took us like forever to be friends ourselves." you comment dryly.
"Pfft, you'll get along with them super well, don't worry! You're cool, they're cool, that's all you need."
All protests die in your mouth when he smiles at you like that, so you sigh and surrender to his demands.
"Alright, fine."
The bar's packed and loud, you think, flashes of yellow and red light emitting from the dingy entrance as you cross the road towards the establishment. There's already a line of people outside but there's two people in particular who stick out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd of black and edgy looks - a girl and a boy around your age, mid-playful argument.
The guy meets your gaze and then waves you over, soft smile on his lips. He's quite cute, you think - not your type, but there's an undeniable charm to him, wavy chestnut brown hair, soft features and slight muscle definition to his thighs and arms. The girl's grinning at you and she's also pretty, short brunette bob framing her lively face quite nicely.
They're also dressed more for the park than a metal concert, but you suppose you haven't done much better (throwing on just a t-shirt and jeans over a pair of sneakers).
"Hey! (Y/n), right?" Steve asks, as you nod in response, slightly intimidated at the presence of these new people.
You do vaguely remember Hopper mentioning a guy named Steve once over a phone call with Joyce, but other than that you don't know too much about him. But Steve seems really nice, welcoming you into the group instantly, gently pulling you towards the two of them and away from the rest of the hectic crowds.
"I'm Steve. Nice to meet you. And this is Robin, my best friend and eternal pain in the ass."
"Cap your ego, Harrington. Don't listen to him, besides, us girls have to stick together, right?" Robin quips, pulling you against her and winking at you. You can't help but giggle at that, what with the way Steve's face then scrunches up into a haughty frown.
It turns out that they're a delightful pair to be around. Robin's sarcastic, witty and funny, and her no-bullshit attitude and dry sense of humor pairs nicely with Steve's slightly egotistical, flirty and outgoing nature. And with a bit of alcohol dancing on the tip of your tongue, you find yourself loosening and completely comfortable by the time the band comes out to play.
The music is loud - so loud that it reverberates through your body, so loud that it feels like the whole building shakes with the booming of the speakers - but it's also delirious and addicting, jumping up and down in a sea of people to the ear-splitting music.
The three of you stay long past after the show's wrapped up, leaning against the counter of the open bar with dopey smiles on each of your faces.
"Holy shit, my dad's gonna be so mad that I'm this tipsy." you comment, leaning onto Robin's shoulders for support.
"Really?" she teases, amused.
"Seriously. And the fact that he's the police chief probably isn't going to do me much favours."
"Hopper's your father?" Steve asks, surprised. He remembers in the back of his mind Hopper mentioning that he's taken in another kid a while ago, but he hadn't pressed the older man for details.
"Godfather, actually, but he might as well be my dad. Considering I left my shitty biological parents in New York."
"To shitty parents." Robin announces, raising her glass of whiskey into the air. Steve and you clink your glasses with hers in agreement.
"To shitty parents."
"Looks like someone's had a lot of fun." Eddie comments from behind you the moment you down the shot, your head slow to catch up with his presence before it hits you all at once.
"Eddie!" you squeal out, dropping the glass onto the counter and spinning around to envelope him in a fierce hug. He's wholly unprepared to catch your embrace with the speed and force with which you wrap your arms around his waist, causing him to stumble backwards.
"You were amazing! Like seriously, your guitar solo was the best part of the whole night." you gush and Eddie's glad that the harsh lighting of the bar is able to mask the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.
"Aw, thanks. Did Steve and Robin treat you alright?" he asks, looking up at his friends.
"More than alright, we nearly stole your girl." Steve teases, to which Eddie only scowls, waving away his friend's suggestive teasing.
"Alright, Harrington, keep it in your pants."
Robin and Steve continue to smirk at Eddie, making exaggerated lovesick expressions and throwing kisses at the two of you, none of which you're catching because your head is still buried against Eddie's chest. Eddie has to subtly - but fiercely - tell his friends to cut it out, gesturing with his hands and throwing nasty glares their way.
"Fuck, I really need to sober up though." you mumble, straightening up, stumbling ever so slightly on your feet.
"Yeah, and I'm beat. Wanna split a cab, Buckley?"
"Sure do, Steve. See you two kids around." Robin slyly adds, quickly exiting right after Steve to leave you alone with Eddie. It's clear what they're trying to do, but Eddie can't really bring it to himself to care when you tug at his sleeves, still tipsy and tired.
"Can we drive out somewhere cold and empty? If I go home now, Hopper's gonna be real mad about my alcohol consumption. Even if I'm over 18, that man is... protective."
Eddie chuckles, nodding, brushing away a stray strand of hair from your eyes.
"Alright then. Guess we're driving to the park."
On the way out to his car, his left hand resting on your back as he guides you into the front seat, Eddie meets Jason's eyes from across the road. The jock is leaning against his car, nursing a beer bottle in his right hand, whilst his group of friends rustle and joke around with each other by the gas tanks.
An unshakable feeling of disgust rises up in Eddie's throat, heart clenching at the way the blonde's eyes shift down at you, then on to Eddie's hand on your back, and how then a semi-impressed grin spreads on Jason's lips. The blonde ever so slightly nods at Eddie, as if confirming their bet, before returning to his conversation with his friends.
"Eddie?" you call out his name, breaking him out of his trance. "Everything alright?"
He's being paranoid, he tells himself. He hasn't even done anything yet, if anything, he's nowhere near "winning" the bet - you're just friends, that's all this is, leading you back to the car and helping you sober up by a park.
"Yeah. All good." Eddie forces out, faux grin and all. There's an odd bitter taste filling his lungs, but he breathes out slowly, reminding himself that he's not doing anything bad.
He's just a friend, taking another friend, to the park.
Sitting on the swing set, his fingers trail down the linked metal chains, small smile on his face as you childishly swing back at forth with your legs kicking out in front of you. It's your way of sobering up, you insist, and he can't complain - it's clearly making you very happy, the smile on your face permanent. It's a nice sight, a rare sight, one that he's keeping tucked in to the crevices of his mind for later.
"Be careful." Eddie chastises, watching you soar higher and higher towards the night sky. "I don't want you to break a bone or something. Think Hopper would be even more if you break a bone than if you show up a bit drunk."
Slowing down your movements, you scoff, but there's still a lazy smile on your face indicating that you're not really mad.
"I hate it when you're right." you mumble, drawing a loud laugh from Eddie's lips, head thrown back and all.
"I'm always right, (L/n)." he challenges, knocking his swing into yours.
"Sure, Munson. Except the times you're not. Which is almost every time."
"Almost."
Silence settles over the two of you again, the creaking of metal as you both lazily swing back and forth being the only sounds in the night, pale moon marking the shift into midnight. Eddie's fiddling with his rings absentmindedly, not really sure what to say or why he suddenly feels nervous sitting next to you, until you pick your head back up and speak.
"Thanks."
"For what?" he's confused and surprised.
"For inviting me. For letting me meet Steve and Robin, you're right, they're really cool. And like, I don't know. Thanks for being my friend, I guess." you look down immediately after finishing your sentence, hot embarrassment coursing through your veins, Eddie's soft stare too much to bare all at once on top of your heartfelt confession. The confession that tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, guilt pouring over him in waves.
"Yeah, so-"
"It's just crazy to me, you know?" you interrupt. "That you'd want to be friends with me. That anyone would want to be friends with me. I know I was a bitch when we first spoke. And uh, maybe I still kind of am. But you just... you're different, Eddie."
You pause for a tender moment, legs spreading as you shift your swing closer towards his, so that your knees are brushing against his and you can place a warm hand down onto his lap.
"I feel like you really see me. Not this whole 'ice queen' bullshit or whatever people are saying at school. The real me, the person behind all the walls and defences raised up. You kept on trying to get to know me even when I was pushing you away and being cruel to you. And it was thanks to that that we ended up becoming friends. So... yeah. Thank you, Eddie. Sincerely."
It's hard to shake off the shame now coating his lips, his skin burning and feeling sticky underneath your pure, innocent gaze and soft touch. He forces a smile, fingers uncurling from the metal chains of the swing to pat down on your warm hand, trying his best to maintain the neutrality of his voice.
"Y-yeah. No problem, I guess."
-------------------------------------------
Things shift after that night by the swing set.
Despite the history project having ended, he ends up seeing you even more regularly than before. It's because you end up taking a part-time job at Family Video after befriending Steve and Robin, and also because you start intermittently dropping by to watch his band pratcitce after school or swing by randomly to Hellfire Club sessions, at the insistence of El wanting to see Mike.
At this point, all of Eddie's friends know who you are. It was comedic at first, to see how Gareth nearly choked on his tongue and refused to make eye contact with you in your presence, and how all the freshman boys - Dustin, Mike and Lucas - pretended to be interested in a bunch of random sheet music thrown around the room to avoid having to look at you.
"Relax, kids, you can stare at her." Eddie had to say, laughing as he placed an arm around your shoulder. "Stop scaring them, (L/n)."
You just scowled at that, shrugging off his arm and sighing dramatically.
"I'm not trying to do that! It's just my reputation preceding me. I'm not as mean as I seem, I promise." you emphasized, turning to address the boys face to face. "I'm just here because Eddie promised to let me play for a 'taster' session of sorts."
"You're... joining Hellfire?" Dustin meekly asked, being the first out of the three to gain enough courage to look up at you. To his surprise, you didn't scowl or flip him off, if anything, you looked quite approachable and friendly standing next to Eddie, who was smiling at you with so much pride.
"Not sure if I'm necessarily joining, but... this meathead won't stop talking about this damn game so I wanted to see what all the hype was about."
The other boys loosened up after seeing how relaxed Eddie seemed to be around you, mock hurt on his face as he dramatically clutched his chest, stumbling backwards as if he'd been shot.
"You wound me with such harsh words! Now I can't promise that I'll go easy on you when we start playing."
"Why would that matter?"
"Duh, I'm the dungeon master, so everything you can do in the game is basically up to me. Or what you roll on the dice, but mainly up to me."
"That hardly seems fair." you commented, flashing the young boys a look of disbelief. "Is that really how this works?"
"Yeah, which is why we basically always have to gang up against him." Lucas replied, drawing a genuine laugh from your lips. It was the final straw to break the tension in the room, everyone loosening up and welcoming your new presence in the group.
"Sounds good, freshies. Us against Eddie, we can definitely take him." you winked at Eddie, rolling your shoulders forward. "Watch out, Eds."
It's late spring now, verging on summer. Eddie's lost count of the amount of time you two have spent together, be that in between periods at school (skipping classes together by the bleachers) or sneaking into the cinemas without paying on a tipsy game of truth or dare.
Eddie catches himself fully lost in your presence - watching your hair flip in the wind behind you whilst he drives with his window down, surveying how your delicate fingers toy with the fabric of your jacket when you're deep in concentration, counting your slow breaths as you lean against him in a darkened parking lot out of exhaustion - until the illusion is shattered for him by way of remembrance.
It's a bet.
But it doesn't matter, not really, he'd always tell himself. You two are still friends. And Eddie's not forcing it, being friends with you is natural, spending time with you is something he genuinely wants.
It's a hollow way of consoling himself, but it's the only way he's able to justify continuning to hang out with you and to slyly avoid Jason or his stupid best friends' constant pestering about how the bet is going.
"We're still just friends, Carver." Eddie gritted through his teeth, skillfully stepping past the blonde to get to his van. Jason didn't seem to like that response, one hand reaching out to grab at his wrist and yank him backwards.
"Listen, freak. I'm impressed, not gonna lie, that you even managed to become friends with her. But the bet was over dating her and getting her to go to prom. It's now, what, end of April?" the jock chuckled, tapping his two front fingers against the expensive watch around his wrist. "Time's running out. That said, I lose absolutely nothing if you lose the bet so actually-"
The blonde pulled away, victorious grin on his pink lips. He looked like a coy predator playing with his prey, smug cruelty rolling off of him in waves.
"Yeah, don't make a move. I'd love to win this bet."
Looking down at where Jason's filthy hand was wrapped around his wrist, Eddie roughly shook off the basketball player's grasp, glare fuelled by the heat of a thousand suns.
"I'm going to win the bet, Carver. Don't get too cocky."
"Did you see what Nate did yesterday?" you question him in the present. Eddie's lying down on the carpeted floor of your bedroom next to you, legs bent in a 45 degree angle, hands supporting the back of his head. You're lying down with your feet propped up on your bed, your eyes meeting his in a sly manner.
"Not really, why? What'd he do this time?"
"He tried doing a backflip during the lunch period and broke his left wrist. Cried like a little bitch about it, too."
The image of the tall, overconfident jock wailing like a child makes Eddie snort.
"That's hilarious."
"It's what he deserves too. He's a total creep." you shudder, remembering how he tried to hit on you on your first day of school. "Though, he did cry a bit more when I sprained his fingers because he tried to grab my ass on my first day."
"He did what?"
"Yeah, I know. Real fucking creep. Don't know why he bothered, either, the jeans I was wearing that day were super ugly."
"I highly doubt that." the comment slips out of Eddie's mouth unconsciously, piquing your curiosity enough for you to shift your body to the side to stare at him with confusion.
"What'd you mean?"
"Oh! Just like..." Eddie scratches his neck, avoiding your gaze. "I highly doubt that the jeans you were wearing were ugly. Just like, I don't think anything you could wear could be ugly."
You sit up at that, legs crossing underneath.
"You calling me pretty?"
"Well, uh-" he stumbles over his words, cheeks flushing vibrant pink as he begins to rattle off in an incoherent manner. "Yeah, I mean I always thought that but yeah you are. Objectively speaking. But also like I think you're pretty, is it hot in here suddenly or-" his hands fly up to the collar of his hellfire club shirt, pulling at the sides as if to let in cool air.
"Are you serious?" you sound shocked, in disbelief, which only confuses Eddie in return.
"Of course I am. Why... would I lie about that?"
You shrug, bringing a juice box to your lips.
"Figured if you thought I was pretty we wouldn't still be friends. That's a compliment you give to someone who's attracted to you, not someone who's just your friend."
"Oh." Eddie then comments, pausing ever so slightly. "Who says I'm not attracted to you?"
His daring question lingers in the air for a few baited breaths, the atmosphere in the room shifting in the microseconds it takes for that sentence to leave his lips and for him to suddenly shift closer to you.
"... I'm attracted to you too." you choke on your words, it barely being a whisper, but Eddie catches it nonetheless. His left hand comes to rest on your cheek, eyes staring right into yours that you think he must be able to see through your soul.
"Can I kiss you?"
You don't think you can speak. You're left to nod quietly, hoping that it's enough. And it is. The force with which he kisses you - he blames it on the months and months of pent up adoration - backs you up against your bed, your legs falling backwards as your back meets the soft mattress. He practically crawls on top of your lap, kiss messy and deep, strands of curly hair clouding your hazy vision.
When it's done, fresh air filling your lungs instead of the intoxicating scent of Eddie, muted taste of beer and mint chapstick dancing on your lips, you two stare at each other with wide eyes before bursting into a fit of nervous laughter.
"So... what now?" you question lightly, hands still gripping his forearms.
"Let's go on a date? Arcade after school on Friday?" he suggests.
"We already do that every week, doofus."
"I know, but this time it'll be different. I'll hold your hand and buy you dinner afterwards."
You pretend to think about it, humming quietly before nodding with a wide smile.
"Deal."
You fall asleep in his embrace that night, face squished against his upper chest, body rising and falling alongside your slow breaths. But Eddie can't sleep. The euphoria he's feeling is underlined with sickening guilt, a gnawing clawing sensation in his stomach, a harsh whisper in the back of his mind that none of this is real.
He's lying to you.
But what he feels for you isn't a lie, he reasons, so it's fine. He's driving himself insane with these internal arguments, subconsciously pulling your sleeping figure closer towards himself as his fingers clutch onto your waist tighter.
Burying his head into your hair, inhaling deeply, he attempts to quiet his thoughts. It'll all be over soon. Graduation is looming. He's just got one more part of the bargain to hold up - asking you to prom. It'll be over soon, it won't get worse....
Right?
------------------------------------------
"I'm really glad she's dating you."
Hopper comments two months later, looking over from the driver seat of his truck as Eddie jumps up straight upon being addressed by your godfather. The two men have spent countless times together - whether it be Eddie lounging on the couch in the living room whilst waiting for you or Hopper knocking on Eddie's trailer door to ask why you still haven't come home - but it never stops Eddie from getting a bit nervous around him.
He wants to make a good impression on the police chief for numerous reasons, but above all, because he's your father. Your only parent at this point. So even if it's something as casual as hitching a ride from Hopper the day Gareth had to borrow his van, Eddie's still a bit on edge when he's sitting in the passenger seat next to Hopper.
Upon seeing the younger man's eyes widen in surprise, Hopper chuckles, the sound a low rich baritone.
"Have to admit, the day I picked her up from school that day you two kids got yourselves locked inside and she called you her new friend... I felt that there was something more to that word. Friend. And despite your, um, questionable activities-"
Eddie flushes with embarrassment at that.
"You've always been good to her. And it's doing her wonders, I can tell. She went from this isolated, broken shell of a person to... Someone with friends her age. A job. Someone who smiles and laughs and says yes to spontaneous plans. I know it's not all you but you've been a big part of that so thank you." Hopper grumbles out, coughing awkwardly, not used to such heartfelt confessions. It makes Eddie feel even worse, almost making him want to sink into his seat.
"It's no big deal." Eddie forces out, voice strained and almost breaking because he's choking on recurrent waves of shame, guilt twisting like sharp veins around his chest and squeezing his heart. His mind is still foggy and reeling from the guilt when the truck finally pulls up by his trailer, and you come barreling from the inside of his trailer to hug Eddie.
"Didn't know you'd be here." Hopper comments, crossing his arms. You roll your eyes.
"I think I'm allowed to come over to visit my boyfriend, dad."
"Mmhmm, just make sure you're home by eleven."
"Midnight."
"Ten thirty."
"Eleven thirty."
Hopper pretends to be annoyed, sighing deeply, but he still smiles and ruffles your hair before leaving.
"Fine. See you then, kiddo."
Your legs thrown over his lap half-hazardously, Eddie can't really focus on the VHS tape you've generously 'rented' from your workplace - "Please, as if I'll get in trouble. The only employees are me, Robin and Steve and our boss basically never comes by." - as another character gets gruesomely killed on the screen.
"You're not watching the movie." you complain half-way through the movie, putting down the popcorn bowl to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. He only smiles in response, shaking his head sideways, symmetrical face framed by his long curls.
"Can't focus. You're too pretty." he offers, and you chuckle at that, his whining tone and pleading eyes melting your heart. You clamber on top of him, legs caging his body in between your thighs, as your hands come up to cup his cheeks.
"Aw.... Thanks, babe. But you really don't have to tell me that every day."
"I'd tell you that you're pretty every day just to see you smile like that." he admits softly, boyish grin on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes. You open your mouth to respond with a sassy comment when someone knocks on the door loudly, accompanied by a furious set of even louder knocks.
It's your sister, El, jumping up and down anxiously before her eyes fall upon your familiar figure.
"El, what's wrong?" you question immediately, climbing off of the couch and rushing to cradle your younger sister's face in your hands. She doesn't look physically harmed nor does she look particularly upset, just anxious to see you.
"I'm bored and Mike canceled on me last minute." she complains, stretching her arms out over her head. "I heard from dad that you were here and I wondered if we could like... hang out. We don't have to, if I'm intruding I can-"
You look at Eddie with a pleading gaze, but you honestly don't even need to convince him, as he's already fluffing up the pillows and shaking off the popcorn crumbs from the blanket strewn over the sofa.
"Nonsense, nonsense! You're totally welcome to join us. Just be careful with your sister - sometimes she screams really loudly at the jump scares." your boyfriend teases, winking at you. El giggles at that and you send the metalhead a harsh glare.
"I do not."
"You totally do, babe. But it's okay, I still find you hot."
"Is there popcorn left?" your younger sister then questions, wiggling out of your grasp to stare at the television with eyes full of wonder.
"I'll make more, why don't you two get comfortable." you quickly suggest, knowing Eddie's kitchen like the back of your hand. You take the quiet moments which follow to admire how Eddie interacts with El, your vision only slightly obscured from behind the counter.
El's rattling off about something you don't really understand but Eddie seems totally entraced by her, delighted smile and eager nodding, gently encouraging your younger sister to continue her story whenever she gets nervous that she's talking too much. Your sister looks wholly relaxed in his presence, shoulders lax and fingers thrumming gently against a cushion she's holding against her stomach.
When he makes a dumb joke and El laughs, the warmth blossoming in your chest worsens. You feel lightheaded, stomach filled with love, eyes glazed over in pink hue. You almost drop the popcorn packets on the floor when you realize what this is.
Love.
You love Eddie.
You're not surprised, concealing the smile on your face as you turn away and pop the paper packet into the microwave. Eddie's your first real boyfriend. First friend turned lover, first friend in Hawkins, the person who introduced you to your new group of friends - Steve, Robin, and now Nancy and Jonathan as they swing by Family Video ever so often.
It was inevitable then that you'd fall in love with Eddie.
It's all you can think about for the rest of the night, in between stupid jokes thrown in by Eddie and comments of awe and shock muttered by El in between mouthfuls of popcorn, until she's practically falling asleep on your lap. Checking your watch, you realize that it's nearly 11:30 anyways, so you'd better get home.
"Do you think you could drive us back?" you question quietly, whispering as you gesture to El's sleeping figure. Eddie nods, turning off the television and gently pocketing his car keys as you lightly shake your sister awake and strap her into the backseat. She mumbles incoherently, asking sleepily where you two are going, to which you only shush her and assure her that Eddie's just driving you two home.
The conversation in the car is light and spare - it's late at night, El's still sleeping in the backseat, and unbeknownst to each other, you both have a lot on your minds.
Eddie's fixated on how much he likes you, how much he's scared of losing you and how it's almost been two months of dating you. You're transfixed on the realization that you love Eddie, the tall metalhead who loves his guitar and D&D, the boy with copious jean jackets and an oddly obnoxious charm that broke down your walls brick by brick. The constant wondering if he feels the same, the worries that you're overthinking it, layered with the euphoric rush of adoration and infatuation makes you almost sick with joy.
When the familiar outline of your house comes into view, Eddie piggybacks El into your house as you open up the front door for him, allowing him to gently tuck your sister into bed before you close the door. You accompany Eddie back out to the driveway, fingers anxiously twitching by your sides as the confession sits on the tip of your tongue. It's burning your mouth to keep it in, heart beating at a million miles per minute.
"What's on your mind, princess?" he gently asks you, the sour expression on your face giving you away in a moment's notice that you're clearly deep in thought. But nothing could've prepared him for what you said next.
"I love you." you blurt out. "I actually, wholly, undoubtedly love you."
Eddie freezes at that, grin falling ever so slightly, eyes wide and unblinking. You take it as a bad sign, fumbling over your words desperately as you try to salvage the situation.
"I-I know that might be kind of quick because we've only been dating for two months, but if you think about it we've been friends for almost like three quarters of a year, so it's not-"
"No, no." your boyfriend quickly reassures you, hand cupping your chin to stop your talking and to focus your attention on him. You realize that up close, you can better make out his features in the dark: he's smiling brightly, eyes fawning and voice gentle. "It's not quick. I realized I loved you many weeks ago. Was just waiting for you to catch up." Eddie adds, winking at you.
You laugh at that, nodding eagerly, tension dissipating from the night air in an instant. The boy then kisses you gently under the pale moonlight, his tongue slipping in to trace your bottom lip when you moan out in surprise, the strength and passion with which he presses into your mouth catching you off guard.
Eddie's kissed you a million times at this point, but this time it feels different to you. It feels like a million unsaid "i love you"s wrapped into one, delicate touch burning golden tattoos alongside your skin as his hand dances up your waist, pleasant melodies ringing in your ears even when you pull away to catch your breath.
"So... you love me and I love you, I guess." you breathe out into the cold air, affirming reality for yourself by speaking out loud.
"Yeah." Eddie replies, licking his lips to chase the aftertaste of your cherry lipgloss.
"Two people in love. How romantic." you joke, smiling.
Eddie doesn't respond to that, only pressing another shaky kiss to your lips before bidding you goodnight, his knuckles turning white with the strength with which he grips the steering wheel on his drive back. His anxiety has snowballed past its tipping point, his head a toxic warzone of jumbled thoughts, nauseous feeling causing bile to rise up to his throat that Eddie needs to pull over to the side mid-drive.
His heart feels like it's being crushed.
He can't stand it anymore - the lying, the secrets, the way you look at him like he's the only thing that matters in this cruel world. And now, it's undeniable. The truth is staring him right in the face.
You said you loved him.
And fuck, he loves you.
It's gone too far. He's fallen too deep. He's sinking into a bottomless pit and he's dragging you down with him.
And for what? Eddie bitterly ponders, smashing his hands down onto the steering wheel with anger. A stupid bet with a jock?
He needs to call it off.
He makes a beeline to the locker room the next morning, frantically tearing through the school hallways in search of Jason. Unfortunately, the best he can do is to run into Oliver and Nate post-shower, flicking each other with wet towels before Eddie coughs and demands their attention.
"Where's Jason?"
"Pissed off the coach so he's doing another lap. Why, backing out of your bet like a pussy?" Nate teases, drawing a howling laugh from Oliver. Not that Eddie cares. It just frustrates him because first period starts in a few minutes and if he's late one more time for chemistry, he knows it's another detention slip being put into his hands.
"Just tell Carver to meet me by the bleachers during lunch. It's important. And yes, it's about the bet."
Eddie thanks god that you don't share any classes with him today. He doesn't think he could stomach it, looking into your innocent eyes and letting you kiss and hold him softly when he doesn't deserve your love.
He feels as if he's in a trance the whole day, going through the motions of life, eyes empty and mind buzzing with static as he nods along to one lecture after another.
The only thing to jolt him awake is when, in between his second and third period, he hears a familiar set of voices whispering from inside the janitor's closet. It's Dustin, Mike and Lucas, with Dustin clearly pained and tired whilst the other two boys whisper frantically amongst themselves.
Privacy be damned, Eddie opens the door and flicks on the light, jaw clenching with anger the moment the small space is enveloped in bright light and he sees the shiny black bruise blossoming on Dustin's forehead.
"What the hell happened?" Eddie quickly questions, closing the door quietly behind him. He's far too tall for the enclosed space, head awkwardly brushing up against the ceiling, his limbs stretching into mops and cleaning supplies, but he can't give a shit. His veins are coursing with anger, worry tightening his chest as he surveys the extent of Dustin's injuries - the curly haired boy only sighing and refusing to meet the senior's gaze.
"Jason Carver happened to him." Lucas cuts in, voice also tense and angry.
"We were hanging out by the entrance and Dustin decided to stand up to Jason and his teammates for bullying us and, well.. he didn't like Dustin's smart mouth." Mike comments quietly.
"So what, that bastard punched you?!" Eddie exclaims, hysterical.
"He didn't punch me, relax. He just knocked me up against the wall and I happened to slam my head against a brick out of place."
"A BRICK?" Eddie screams, causing all of them to cringe at the sudden loud noise. "Shit, Henderson, I'm so sorry."
"It's fine, seriously! I mean, just another Monday, right?" Dustin tries to joke, flashing the older boy a reassuring grin. But it does little to quiet Eddie's fury and guilt, not being able to protect his fellow Hellfire Club members in their time of need.
Lunch time rolls around achingly slow, Eddie munching on his homemade sandwich quickly whilst waiting for Jason to show up by the bleachers. The blonde makes his appearance a full ten minutes into lunch, striding across the green fields in large steps with a scowl on his face.
"What's so important you had to cut into my lunch time, huh?" he growls, clearly annoyed.
"I'm calling the bet off."
"Huh?"
"The bet. I'm fucking over it. I don't care about the money. You win, okay? Now let me out."
Eddie attempts to shove past the blonde but it's like walking into a brick wall, Jason's left hand flying up to Eddie's chest to stop him from walking away before shoving him backwards.
"You're backing out now? When prom's just around the corner and you've already got that bitch riding your dick? I'm surprised, freak." he cruelly comments, cocking his head to the side in fake interest.
"Yeah, I'm out. Now let me go."
"I'm just surprised, that's all. Thought you'd stick by the bet, especially with what happened to that twerp this morning. What's his name, Justin?"
"It's Dustin." Eddie grits, fists clenching by his sides.
"Yeah, whatever. You want to give up the money we bet on, cool, whatever. But a part of our deal was that I'd - along with my friends - lay off of your band of freaks. If you want to call off the bet, that offer is also taken off the table."
Jason's words hang in the air, metaphorical black smoke filling Eddie's lungs and restricting his airways. He feels like he can't breathe, hands clawing at his skin, heart beating at a million miles per minute whilst he mulls over the blonde's words.
All he can focus on is the panicked and scared looks on Lucas and Mike's faces, and the shiny bruise on Dustin's forehead. And Eddie's being given the choice for them to not be bullied for the rest of the whole year, to finally not be terrorized every time they walk into school.
"Still want to call off the bet?" Jason mocks, extending a hand forward. "Shake my hand and it's over."
Eddie stares at the blonde's outstretched hand in silence.
He doesn't shake it.
-----------------------------------------
You can barely sit still, the low humming of Billy Joel flowing from your record player barely settling your nerves as you shift back and forth between your bed and the full length mirror in your room, criticizing every stray hem of your dress. There's a quiet set of knocks against your door and you yell out that you're not ready yet, expecting it to be Hopper.
"It's me!" El announces. "I can help you get dressed, if that's okay?"
Dropping your dress onto your bed, you open the door with a large smile, the excited and eager expression on your younger sister's face too sweet to reject. She sits on your bed with her legs dangling off, watching as you hold up different fabrics up to your chest and ask for her approval. After a several tries and pleas for you to "spin around", you two settle on a nice baby blue doll dress with a sweetheart neckline.
"Can I try doing your mascara?" El then asks quietly, pointing to the mess of makeup littered on your vanity. You laugh, nodding, closing your eyes quietly as her shaky hands attempt to carefully brush through your lashes with the wand. To your delighted surprise, she's a master at it, even going so far as to blend out your eyeshadow perfectly when you hand over your brushes to her.
"What shoes are you wearing?" she asks immediately after that, practically bouncing with excitement.
"I'm starting to think you're more excited about me going to prom than I am, El." you tease, opening your closet and pulling out a pair of sparkly white heels.
"Oh, I can't help it!" she gushes. "It's like all the romantic movies I watched, they always end with the girl and the boy going to prom. It's so romantic." she dreamily sighs, landing on your bed with her back on the mattress.
"Does that make me the protagonist?" you joke, strapping on your heels as you lean down towards your feet.
"Duh. And it makes Eddie your love interest."
"Very handsome, very charming, love interest, I'd like to add." Eddie suddenly cuts in, standing behind your door with a smug smile on his face. It fades into a soft, adoring grin when he sees you in your dress, dolled up and pretty yet still so naturally you. He hopes you can't tell that he loses his cool at the sight, voice slightly strained and tips of his ears flushing pink. "You look absolutely gorgeous, princess."
"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." you comment, throwing him a flirtatious wink. It's no lie, he cleans up well - the suit is a little awkward on him in some places, but the clean cut look makes his jaw stand out more, lean muscle straining the fabric perfectly.
"Shall we get going, my dear love interest?" you joke, offering one arm forward. El scrambles off your bed to hold open the door for you as Eddie wraps one of his arms around yours, nodding.
"We shall." he puts on a horrible posh accent, making you laugh at his antics. Hopper asks - no, practically demands - to sneak in a couple polaroids of you two together before you're burning with embarrassment and desperately shoving Eddie out the door, calling out to your father that you'd be back by midnight.
By the time the two of you pull up to the gymnasium, the party's already started. You're buzzing with anticipation and nerves when Eddie gently helps you hop off of his van, eyes burning with so much adoration that you can't even meet his gaze without melting.
"Bet you that the punch is gonna suck." he whispers into your ear, the flashing lights overhead blinding your eyes ever so slightly.
"Meh, that's why I did this."
You hike up the skirt of your dress to reveal a bottle of vodka strapped to your thigh, Eddie watching in awe as you twist off the red metal cap and pour him a shot into a red solo cup.
"God, I fucking love you." he moans, practically whining it against your lips. You smirk.
"I know."
Eddie's not thinking of anything but how beautiful you look - so carefree, hands thrown up in the air, bubbly laughter erupting from your throat when he dips you or tugs you towards the food stand - that he doesn't even register Jason and his boys' persistent gazes throughout the night. It's only when you declare that you need some fresh air that he's broken out of his lovesick trance, his jacket finding home on your shoulders as you two lean against the wall of the school building.
"Having too much fun?" Eddie teases, knocking his shoulders against yours.
"Definitely. That, and the three shots of vodka and all the pizza grease is melting my brain."
"Ditto."
Eddie's shoulders tense when he hears sets of footsteps approach, accompanied by the drunken yellings of Jason and his friends. Hands flying to your waist, he pulls you upwards, unreadable expression on his face.
"Let's go back inside." Eddie suddenly hurries out, clearly panicked. You frown, confused.
"We literally just came outside."
"I-I know, but uh, let's go-"
"MUNSON!!!!! There's the man of the hour." Oliver screams, cupping his hands together to amplify his voice across the parking lot. Eddie freezes in place, trapped, as you scowl and cross your arms over your chest.
"Piss off, asshole." you bark back, stepping in front of Eddie protectively.
"Oh, got your little bitch fighting your fights now, impressive. You trained her well, freak." Nate drawls, practically tripping over his words with how drunk he is. Eddie can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, panic settling in.
"Don't talk about her like that." he manages to choke out, standing up on shaky legs. But he falters under Jason's gaze, green with envy and red hot with anger, as the blonde steps forward in front of his friends.
"Come on, freak, you can drop the act now. You've won the bet, fair and square."
"What bet?" you stumble backwards in shock, frantic eyes flying to Eddie, who is now suddenly refusing to meet your gaze. "Eddie, what's going on?"
"Ah right, of course little miss ice queen would be confused! Let me break it down for you, sweetheart." Jason practically shouts, clapping his hands together with a gleeful smile. "Back in December, your little boyfriend and I waged a bet. This loser thought he could do a better job asking out girls than me, so I said that if he could get your prissy ass to say yes to a date and to prom, he'd win."
"What?"
Eddie doesn't have the courage to look at you. He's sparing himself the trouble of having to see the crestfallen look on your face, of having to actually see for himself the way your hopes come crashing down into a pile of rubble, to be standing in the aftermath of his destruction.
"We're all impressed that he managed to succeed." the blonde jokes, his two friends eagerly nodding from the back. "Guess we underestimated your abilities, freak." Jason reaches forward and punches Eddie in the shoulder, knocking him back against the wall.
"(Y/n), I can explain-" Eddie starts out lowly, but you're not willing to hear any of it. He can see it in your eyes: in a moment's notice, you've pulled back up all your defences, warmth and kindness disappearing behind your walls as your voice drips with venom.
"Fuck off, Munson."
The laughter of the basketball players continuously rings in Eddie's ears as he chases after you, desperately trying to catch up to you as you run across the parking lot.
"Please, just hear me out-"
"NO." you announce firmly, spinning on your heels and staring up at him with burning hatred. You've never stared at him with anything other than fondness and warmth the past few months. It's then gut wrenching that the fury with which you're glaring at him now - the lack of any kind of kindness or playfulness in your eyes - is unprecedented.
"You know, I knew this was too good to be true." you start, voice shaky. "God, you have no idea how many fucking times I found myself thinking throughout the course of our relationship - no, even when we were just fucking friends - that I didn't deserve this. That there was a reason no one wanted to be my friend. But I was a fucking idiot, because-"
You choke on your words, a sob hanging by the edge of your lips, but you bitterly swallow it down. You'd be damned if Eddie gets your tears on top of everything else.
"Because I thought this was my reward. I was thinking, finally, after all these years of suffering, I could get something nice. New friends, new family, a boy who liked me for who I was... But I realize now that I was nothing more than a joke to you. A sleazy bet with the sleaziest douchebags in school."
"(Y/n)-" Eddie tries again, he can feel you slipping through his fingers and it's breaking him, heart aching to just have you in his arms again. But all you do is shake your head sideways, gritting your teeth as you shrug off his jacket and throw the fabric against his chest.
"Don't fucking talk to me again. If you even so much as look at me, I'll ask Hopper to step in."
"At least let me drive you home." he quietly mutters. "You don't even have a car."
"Save it. I'll take the bus."
Eddie stands there staring at his jacket in his hands, your perfume still lingering in the fabric as he watches hopelessly you walk away into the dark woods.
"Fuck." he breathes out, tears stinging his eyes.
He's fucked up. Really, really badly.
------------------------------------
Steve and Robin both glare daggers into Eddie's back as he shuffles through the aisles of Family Video, both of them pretending to be busy when he'd first entered the store and muttered a quiet "hello." They're pissed at him, for good reason, of course, but it's awkward to know that his friends (who are also your friends) have all turned on him.
It's even more awkward having to make excuses as to why you're no longer showing up to band practice or to D&D sessions to the oblivious freshman and his other friends like Jeff and Gareth, who always looked forward to your sarcastic comments and humorous quips to pass the time.
"Just this, please." Eddie says, throwing a VHS tape of Evil Dead onto the counter. Both Steve and Robin stare down at the tape, then at Eddie, before resuming their conversation behind the counter as if they've never seen him. Eddie rolls his eyes, suppressing a deep sigh.
"Come on guys, this is childish. This isn't even for me, this is for Gareth."
"Then why didn't he come here and rent it himself?" Robin interrogates, tone harsh and dry.
"Got held up doing house chores by his mom. Just scan this damn thing, I'll pay, and I'll be right out of your eyesight, okay?" Eddie's practically pleading at this point and Robin sends Steve a knowing look, forcing the other boy to jump off of his seat and begin to mindlessly scan the tape.
"That'll be $2.50."
In between the painfully awkward and silent transaction, Eddie's looking at everywhere but his friends' faces. Their silent frustration, disapproval and disappointment is too heavy to bear, alongside the heavy guilt and crushing depression he's been experiencing the past two weeks since prom.
"Why'd you do it?" Steve blurts out mid-handing off the tape to Eddie, causing Robin to slap her best friend across the shoulder for his outburst.
"What?"
"I just, I don't get it. It doesn't make sense. I saw - we both saw -" Steve gestures to Robin, sending her a warning glare. "How you looked at (Y/n). How you spoke about her. How much you loved her. What'd you even bet for?"
Pocketing the tape into his back pocket, Eddie sighs slowly, contemplating whether or not to tell them the truth. But hell, he's got nothing to lose at this point, he figures.
"Happened over a weed dealing. I was just talking shit, really, because Jason's ego was bruised after being rejected by (Y/n). We bet over me being able to successfully ask her out to a date and then to prom. If I won, the conditions were that Jason would buy for double - and I knew that Wayne was tight on money, and the trailer's been long overdue for a fix. And he also, uh... said if I won the bet, he'd stop bothering me and my friends."
Eddie doesn't notice it, because he's staring down at his hands whilst rambling, but Steve and Robin exchange a sympathetic glance as Eddie continues to pour his heart out.
"I tried pulling out a million times. But for one reason or another, I could never do it. I was a coward, don't get me wrong, but... when she told me she loved me, I knew it'd gone too far. I was so intently committed to breaking the bet off, consequences and money be damned, but then I saw Henderson had a bruise on his face from Jason roughing him up." Eddie swallows nervously, throat feeling prickly and dry. "I couldn't back out of it then. I didn't want any of the kids to get more hurt when I could prevent it."
"Oh, Eddie..." Robin says quietly, placing a warm hand on his arm. He only shakes her off though, forced grin pulling his lips apart.
"It's whatever. Point is, regardless of good intentions or bad circumstances, I was a fucking coward. And a liar. And an asshole. I broke her heart and I deserve all the bad things in the world for that."
"Does she know any of this?" Steve presses, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"No. I haven't spoken to her since prom. Never even so much as drove past her home. Pretty sure Hopper would shoot my tires flat if I tried, anyways." Eddie weakly jokes.
"You should tell her. If not for you, than for her. She deserves to know the truth."
The metalhead only sighs at that, shaking his head lightly in denial.
"She already knows the truth, Steve."
"Not the bet, but the reasons behind the bet. Your feelings through out the whole thing. How you tried to pull out but you couldn't. I mean the whole truth, Eddie." Steve insists, unwavering.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with this loser." Robin dryly comments, flicking Steve's forehead. Steve scowls at that, sending the brunette girl a playful glare before turning around to stare at Eddie.
"Seriously. Let her know the truth. It'll both do you good."
"If I were you though, I'd bring chocolates as a peace offering or something, because I did hear that Hopper got a new rifle last week." Robin adds, swinging her legs off the counter as Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Gee, thanks, Buckley."
"Don't sweat it, Munson."
"....Thanks." Eddie quietly whispers, genuinely touched by his friends' advice. Their words continue to replay in his mind like a broken record on his drive back home and out of the corner of his eyes, Eddie continues to see a phantom outline of you. Sitting next to him, singing from the driver's seat, hair being ruffled from the open window.
You're still haunting him, he still can't stop thinking about you. Mulling it over, he realizes that the least he can do is to try. Try and talk to you, to iron things out.
He just hopes you're willing to listen.
---------------------------------------
Eddie doesn't think he's ever felt this nervous before.
Standing by your front porch, throwing small pebbles at your bedroom window late at night, hoping that you notice the odd sounds and look outside. It's weird - a part of him is screaming at him to run away, that this was a mistake and that he should run into his van and drive home right now. But there's another part of him, one which is stronger and louder, reminding him that he has to explain himself to you.
He sees you lean out your window with a confused expression on your face, eyes scanning the night sky and trees before landing on his figure. You roll your eyes and slam your window shut, forcing him to escalate his plan.
The next time Eddie's knocking on your window he's precariously balancing on the slippery roof tiles, gripping onto your windowsill for dear life and hoping you have enough mercy in your heart to let him in. You're still scowling when you open your window back up, but this time there's a hint of care and worry in your eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing? You got a death wish, Munson?" you hiss, careful to not wake anyone else in the house.
"Well you weren't going to let me in the normal way, so I had to do the next best thing." he weakly offers, fingers turning white. "Are you going to let me in so I don't die, then?"
You click your tongue, swearing under your breath.
"Just because I don't want to attend your fucking funeral." you warn, stepping back and letting him climb in through your window. He practically falls onto the floor face first, limbs awkwardly tumbling forward, his left arm catching his fall ever so slightly in an effort to save the bouquet of flowers and chocolate from getting crushed.
"H-here." he shakily offers them by thrusting the items into your hands, which you cautiously take before throwing it behind you on the bed.
"Thanks. You can leave now."
"Wait, wait, wait-" he rushes to block off your access to the door before you can push him out the bedroom, making you stomp your feet in frustration.
"What, Eddie? I'm fucking tired, it's a Wednesday night, for fuck's sake."
"I know you don't want to talk to me. But it's fucking killing me that you don't even know the whole story. Please, hear me, out. Just five minutes, and if you still want me to leave, I... I will."
You should be laughing at his face. You should be your usual coldhearted self, uncaring smirk lacing your lips as you shove him out the front door and throw the flowers and chocolate back onto his chest. But you can't find it in yourself to do so.
Damn Eddie Munson and his handsome face, you think. You also can't deny the lingering affection you hold for him, and fuck... you have missed him. Greatly. The amount of times you've cried in the past two weeks is a testament to that.
The worst harm's already been done, you think. Might as well hear him out.
"Fine. You've got five minutes." you say, and you can see his face light up visibly with joy and relief.
"Thank you. The bet, listen, it... it happened during a drug deal. Jason was pissed that you'd rejected him and I was just trying to push his bottoms and toy with his fragile ego by boasting that I could probably be better with girls than him. He knew that I was having money issues and the trailer needed to be fixed, so he cut me a deal. If I got you to say yes to a date, then he'd start paying double for our weed dealings." Eddie rushes out, speaking so fast that he has to catch a deep breath in between.
"Then I added I wanted him to stop bothering me and my friends at school. Especially now that I got the freshman kids to look out for, I just wanted his word that he'd stop bothering them all. In return for that, however, it was additionally agreed that I'd also have to get you to say yes to prom."
"That's... oddly sweet of you. Kind of." you mutter, thoughts running a million miles per hour at the revelation. You figured that the bet was just a joke to exploit you. Not something Eddie agreed to in an effort to protect his uncle and his friends.
"It's really not, because I hurt you. I knew from the beginning that this was wrong. I had this persistent, sick, stabbing sensation in my stomach all throughout our friendship that this was wrong. I tried to lie to myself that I hadn't done anything bad yet, because we hadn't even started dating, but I knew it was only a matter of time before we became real. And once that happened, I..." he chuckles sadly, gaze lowering to the floor.
"I liked the illusion of us together too much to pull back. The bet was always lingering in the back of my mind, sure. But I liked you too much. I love you too much. So I ignored it. Even if it was fake, it felt real whenever I got to hold you and kiss you."
He runs a quick hand through his hair before resuming.
"And then the night that you told me you loved me, I panicked. It was like I was finally awake, like icy cold water had been dumped over my head and I saw what a fucked up mess I'd gotten us into. I told Jason the next day that the bet was off, but... he held the end deal of our bargain over my head. The part about no longer bullying my friends. And Dustin had gotten a black eye that morning from a rough altercation with Jason and I... I didn't end up backing out of the deal because of that. But I tried to get out. God, I tried many, many times. Maybe not as strongly as I should've, but there were numerous times where I tried to get out of the deal." Eddie affirms, pleading.
"So... all of that. All the lying, all the secrets, all the play pretend... was it worth it?" you whisper out loud, hands clutching at your sides as you hug yourself and look up at him.
"Yes." Eddie responds automatically, confident. "Because it meant I got to have you. And I never faked my feelings for you. Not even once. That was all, always, genuine."
You're left to stare at him in silence, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you reflect over his words, Eddie taking in shallow breaths as he carefully surveys your reaction. He can't read your mind right now, he so badly wishes he could see what you're thinking because your expression is kept tight and neutral through it all.
"Do you... still want me to leave?" he whispers quietly. You don't speak, you don't nod nor deny him, you just continue to stare at him with a blank expression.
It's enough of an answer for him.
"You do, huh?" he chuckles, the sound as hollow as his heart. "It's fine, I uh, knew you wouldn't want me again after this. But you... you deserved to know the truth. Again, I'm so sorry for hurting you. I love you though. And I never lied about that."
He's hoping that you're going to stop him from leaving. That this is going to be the breakthrough moment in those romantic films, where you cut him off from speaking with a fierce kiss and whisper forgiveness against his lips, pinning him against the door.
But you don't even twitch. You just silently nod, unreadable expression on your face, and let him brush past you and walk down the stairs silently.
Eddie's heart stills feels heavy, grieving the loss of you and your love. But his shoulders feel ever so lighter, knowing that he's done the right thing by apologizing and explaining himself. He still feels like shit, he still thoroughly plans on smoking at least two packs when he gets back to his trailer, but he feels like he can breathe a tiny bit easier now.
"Wait."
Your voice suddenly rings out from behind him, your front door hanging open behind you as you've clearly ran through the house in a rush. Eddie jumps up in surprise, bewildered that you've chased him down the stairs.
"Y-yeah?" he stumbles out, pulling away from his van door.
"I forgive you. Sort of, I mean, it'll take a while for me to get over it and to fully trust you again but I... I still love you. Do you still love me too?" you whisper, doubtful.
Eddie almost wants to laugh at that question: that you'd even think for a second that he's spent any moment of the past two weeks being anything but in love with you.
"Of course I do, princess. Never stopped."
"Then that's all that matters."
This kiss tastes and feels totally new. Salty tears, mint toothpaste, your shaky fingers grabbing his as Eddie pulls you in impossibly close.
He's trying to memorize every aspect of you, having been starved of your presence for too long, committing every single aspect of you to memory. How you taste against his lips. How your body fits right against his when he places an arm around your waist. How your hair tickles his neck from this angle, moonlight shining a halo around the crown of your head.
You try to pull away a few times to catch your breath, but he doesn't let you, your giggles being swallowed by another needy kiss.
Eddie doesn't ever want to lose you again. Not even for a second.
a/n: if anybody actually read to the end of this story... thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. This story has been a true labor of love, sweat and tears and countless hours of work. Whilst I was re-editing this I realized I kind of don't like how it turned out but I worked so hard on it and I already announced I was gonna post it so here it goes, I guess.
I've had this concept of a social outcast x Eddie reader with a enemies to lovers trope thrown in for a while so I'm just glad that I got it out my system. Totally nervous and completely unsure of how this will be received (my longest fic to date) but it's out now. Thank you for reading ❣️
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#eddie munson#1k#2k#3k#4k#5k#6k#7k#8k#9k#10k#11k#12k#13k#14k#15k#16k#17k#18k#19k#20k
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being protective of reader in the wilderness + subtle demonstrations of affection headcanons - natalie scatorccio
a/n - my ass got a lil carried away with it but SURE WHATEVER lol. i also tried to play off natalie's over-protective nature as 'subtle' because i feel like she's way too hard-headed to be simping like crazy
(approx 1.1k words)
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the two of you had first kissed at the party the day before the flight for nationals.
you decided to put your romance on hold until after so that you could focus on the match.
when the plane first crashes, the first thing nat does is look for you.
she finds you a few metres outside the plane, groaning in pain; you were shot out during the initial crash.
you have a concussion and a few gashes but surprisingly, no breaks or anything that requires misty’s surgical skill (thankfully!)
natalie is already naturally a stand-offish person, but after the disaster that unfolds, she closes off even more.
you try to talk to her but she keeps giving you reasons why she can’t.
“sorry (y/n), i have to go hunting with travis.”
everybody notices the way you look at her longingly as she leaves every morning.
you’re always sitting by the fire, sharpening the knives when you catch her eye. it’s part of your routine at this point, and you swear you can see a remorseful look in her gaze.
eventually, natalie, overcome with guilt, tries to be more attentive to you.
one day she invites you out hunting.
“uhhh, look, (y/n). i know i haven’t been great but do you want to come with me? hunting? just the two of us…?”
you say yes almost immediately, longing to talk to her about unspoken things.
natalie is a bit awkward as it’s been a while since you’ve properly talked. you fall into a tense silence.
however, things brighten up a little when you trip on a fallen log. before you can hit the ground, natalie snakes a sturdy arm around your waist, holding you close to her.
“careful,” is all she says, her warm breath hitting your neck.
both of you blush hard and you cough as she lets go of you.
hunting with natalie becomes a normal occurrence (which travis hates because he thinks she’s totally into him).
one day, natalie gives you a wildflower. it’s half dead and looks like shit, barely able to survive on the coarse, dry ground, but your cheeks grow rosy, and you melt.
you give her a tight hug, to which she instantly stiffens up. after you apologise, she brushes the awkwardness off, but you swear you can see a small smile on her warm face.
natalie likes to give you lingering touches. she hates to be one of those ‘obnoxiously in love’ people, so this is her way of showing that she likes you. you notice the touches and appreciate them a lot.
for example, she might have her arm touching yours when you sit together eating or link your pinkies together when you’re standing/sitting next to each other.
she touches her foot against yours as you sleep, but after it starts to get a little colder, you wake up with her arms wrapped around you.
she denies it at first, extremely flustered, but starts to own it after the other girls tease you about it.
natalie never admits it, but she’s a little spoon. despite this, she will try to big spoon you even though she always ends up curled into your side, your arm draped over her securely.
she’s honestly a bit of a radiator and her warm breath against your skin is one of your favourite feelings when you’re sleeping.
being the competitive girl she is, natalie has a lot of competitions with you; think competitions about who can find food the fastest.
she always coincidentally gets ‘distracted’ when there’s a deer around the corner. you know she just loves to see your joy when you think you’ve gotten her beaten.
when winter hits, natalie is reluctant to let you hunt with her because of the terrain. however, you convince her with your very innocent puppy dog eyes.
cue natalie tightening the strings of your hood before you go out every morning – it’s such a subtle caring moment but you love it. you always smile at her when she does it, and she grins back.
another thing she does is rub her palms together while blowing her breath on them, and then putting them on your cheeks to keep you cozy. it really doesn’t work when you’re in freezing temperatures, but you appreciate the sentiment.
she also loves snowball fights. you’d be blabbering on about something and she’ll suddenly assault you.
“yeah, mrs stevenson was so damn strict, right? but i think she was going to go on maternity leave right before we left for nat- ooph! did you just fucking throw something at me?”
natalie’s face is red as she laughs her ass off, nearly losing balance.
“you should’ve seen your face, (y/n)! you were all like ‘arugh!’” she’d exclaim breathily, mimicking your shocked expression.
her face changes to faux fear the moment she sees you sprinting her way.
you tackle her into a snowbank, knocking the breath out of her lungs and the both of you wrestle, giggling as if you’re just two teenage girls with no fears in the world – no plane crash, no death, nothing.
natalie suddenly sobers up and you stop laughing, noticing.
“you okay, nat?” you ask, before she grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss.
ah, yeah. the whole romance thing you never ended up talking about.
you both discuss it as you walk back to the cabin, and that night, natalie seems a bit more obvious with her romantic advances.
one day, you get split up while hunting and as it grows darker, natalie can’t find you.
she returns back to the cabin hastily, begging for you to be there waiting for her.
but you’re not.
tears streaming down her face, she tries to leave to find you again. anything can get you; the cold, wolves, your clumsy ass could even trip and fall down a cliff or something.
tai and van have to physically hold her down to stop her from pursuing you. after all, she’s too much of a skilled hunter to die.
the next morning, she looks for you. she thinks that she’s out of luck and starts heading back to the cabin at the end of the day until she sees a flash of green in the snow. your jacket.
she runs over and starts digging, finding you, cold and barely responsive.
with a newfound adrenaline, nat brings you back all by herself. the girls are shocked to see you and after you’re warmed up, she talks to you.
she can’t stop crying the whole time and you hold her face with trembling, weak hands, giving her a kiss.
this is the first time natalie ever tells you she loves you.
and god, does your weak heart swell with adoration.
that night, she’s the big spoon and she traces shapes into your back while breathing on your nape.
she’ll warm you up as a thank you for all the time’s you’ve warmed her cold heart up.
she just loves you so much, and you love her too.
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see you on the other side
MDNI
joel miller x reader
summary: You're drifting from Joel, but you promise him you won't leave Boston. Even as things get worse.
wordcount: 3k
warnings: smut (p-in-v, m-receiving oral), angst, death (non-major characters), violence, injury, mention of alcohol and painkiller consumption
a/n: no spoilers as long as you've seen ep1. hope you enjoy <3
Joel never liked Boston. He visited as a boy then again with Sarah. Both times he came to the same conclusion: Texas was home.
Now Boston’s home. Not by choice, certainly. Tommy wanted security and community. He had a pipe dream about a sense of normalcy like before and somehow convinced Joel that a quarantine zone would be worth the trouble.
It was, like Joel predicted, not worth it.
Add on top of it the chilly winters and gray skies, Joel wanted to up and leave.
You moved in a year after them, in the next door unit in the designated “childless” apartment building– more like a barracks.
Tommy tried flirting with you the moment he laid eyes on you. Joel was there– standing behind him and rolling his eyes so hard that he nearly missed the way your eyes flickered to his figure in curiosity. Dejected by your rejection, Tommy slips into Joel’s place too soon to notice the bashful smiles you two exchange.
Within a month, a picture of you and him sits on Joel’s fridge.
****
Tommy joins the Fireflies a year after you move in with Joel. Joel can’t understand why. He spends the better part of that winter tormented by migraines as he tries to understand where he went wrong. He hasn’t spoken to his brother in the better part of the season.
He worries for Tommy. He convinces himself that his brother has gone off on a suicide mission. He chest tightens with each step into the town square, convinced his brother’s body will be hanging. Dread of the possibility that he’s spoken his last words to Tommy looms over Joel’s head.
You’re less worried than Joel. You actually talk to Tommy, truly listen to his side of the story without letting rage take over. You become Tommy’s advocate. The Miller’s middleman.
He’s not stupid Joel. You know that.
Try sayin’ that when he gets his neck snapped by FEDRA.
Joel handles his anger– his premature grief –better than most people these days. He talks to you when things get bad, vents until he runs out of energy to talk. It’s usually those nights, when he’s loosened by frustration (and some whiskey), that you have your longest, most heartfelt conversations with the man. It’s during those conversations that your relationship progresses the most, albeit baby steps. They include the nights when he asked you to move in, first told you he cares about you, and told you about his daughter.
You distract him. He spends less time draining his decanter in favor of drowning his woes into you. He wakes you up at night, when the thoughts get too much for him, with a hand trailing up your side and his mouth on your neck.
He takes it slow those nights, on your sides and him behind you. He whispers to you, words emphasized by the slow pistoning of his hips. He thanks you, praises you. He begs you not to leave.
Afterwards, with his seed drying on your skin, his arm tossed over your still-clothed chest, you always tell him you love him. He never says it back.
****
The first time you sneak out, you confess immediately afterwards. Tommy needed help with a job, not for the Fireflies, but one he didn’t trust Joel to act hospitable enough for. You leave in the blanket of night and return before curfew ends, unscathed, but with a look of guilt in your eyes.
The next time you sneak out, you spare the details. Tommy had a job, you say. There’s less guilt in your eyes, especially when you tuck a thick pile of ration cards into the stash.
After the third night you sneak out, Joel accepts it as a routine. He knows not to question a good thing. Ration cards are a blessing, and your work with Tommy keeps the food coming in when Joel’s smuggling falls short.
Things turn after that. The Fireflies pull a stunt. They line up half of a dozen off-duty FEDRA workers in the square and beat them to death. Their blood flows down the street the next morning, leading crowds to the scene. Their bodies are marred, sitting in a pile underneath a messy Firefly, painted on an old brick wall.
They post their manifesto all around town, and for the first and only time in a year, the Miller brothers reunite.
You stand between them, staring down at the bodies collecting flies. The scent of cadaver fills the air, the spread of the scent expedited by the summer sun.
Tommy’s shocked.
Joel tells him, “It’s what you signed up for.” They’re his parting words.
FEDRA leaves the bodies on the street for the day, letting the people of the quarantine zone watch wives and children publicly grieve. It was their way of garnering support, of encouraging compliance. Every sob that echoes through the city is a question.
A mother cries for her son. Is this what you want?
A brother falls to his knees. Does freedom require such violence?
A child learns that their father won’t come home. Shouldn’t the Fireflies pay for what they’ve done?
The Fireflies fail, and their manifesto is ignored. FEDRA increases security within the zone. They crack down on illegal activity, not just the Fireflies. Jobs with Tommy become more risky. More hours go into planning, and execution takes twice the time.
Joel’s smuggling ring comes up with a code, something with decades of music. He refuses to share the details with you. He spends hours at a time sitting at the radio, scouring its stations for any sign of whatever. Some days he completely disappears into it, songs you haven't heard in years filling the apartment as incoming and outgoing signals.
Joel worries. You worry.
There are hangings in the streets almost every day. It used to just be Fireflies. Now it’s everyone: kids sneaking out past curfew, the elderly pocketing extra ration cards, just about anybody they can deal an infraction to.
One night, when it’s too dark for him to read the vulnerability evident on your face, you tell Joel the truth.
“Tommy’s thinking of leaving.”
Joel scoffs. “That’s a stupid thing to do”
“It’s dangerous here.”
“It’s dangerous out there.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re not thinking of leaving.”
You’re not thinking of leaving. It’s a statement, so presumptuous it makes you dizzy. But it shouldn’t. He’s right. You’re not thinking of leaving. You couldn’t leave Joel. He’s become a part of you. Leaving him would splinter some vital part of your very soul. It would shatter the pipe-dream of love in this world that you’ve somehow made true.
“I wouldn’t leave you, Joel.”
I can’t leave you, Joel. Not now.
****
He’s awake when you shuffle through the door. You don’t turn on the lights, just stumble through the apartment to the bed. You keep your right leg straight as you lower yourself next to him. Your pants are off already, shucked off by the door, he assumes. A bloody bandage wraps around your knee. It seems to stare back at Joel.
It’s blizzarding out. It’s one of the things he hates most about Boston. The bone-chilling storms that never seem to let up. He wonders if that’s why you’re back so late.
“Rough night?” He asks. You don’t answer.
You speak less these days. He doesn’t raise a fuss because when you do speak, you’re arguing. The two of you dance around each other, pretending like there isn’t an invisible wedge driving itself between you. Intimacy evades you, and your features come to harden more and more each time you sneak in past curfew. There are still peeks though, of that woman who smiled so bashfully at him: the way you smile when he greets you with a kiss, laugh at his dry humor, sigh as he sinks himself into you.
“Been two days,” he says.
You hum in what Joel assumes is your attempt at a response. Your eyes are closed, that he can make out from the moonlight streaming through the window. You’re breathing heavily, either from frustration or pain from your leg. He selfishly hopes it's the latter.
“You should have left a note.”
“If I knew it’d be long, I would have.” Not an apology.
“You didn’t know?”
You sigh, and for a moment Joel thinks you’re going to ignore him, just turn on your side and fall asleep. But you push back, a warning lilt to your voice, “Things went wrong.” He can hear it between your words, I don’t want to do this right now, Joel.
He wants to stop, roll over and pull you into his arms and pretend like your lives aren’t on the line, like everything’s okay. But he’s worried. “Tommy’s gonna get you killed.”
You sit up, so fast Joel thinks you’re going to knock him off of the bed. There’s a sparkle– no, simmering –in your eyes. “Joel–” You stop yourself, a hand coming to pinch the bridge of your nose.
Silence returns to the apartment. You look older in the low lighting, stress pulling unfavorably on your features.
Joel knows he should apologize for his roughness, but remorse isn’t something he can find within himself. Apologies come hard these days. He lets his anger, fear, and hurt control him, afraid apologizing would let all those feelings melt away, and leave him with an emptiness and need to face his cruel reality.
“Can we not do this?” You whisper, “Not tonight, please.”
Joel purses his lips, pulling you into his side. You let him hold you, feeling the pulsing of his heart beneath his ribcage.
Your hand slips from his shoulder. Lower– to his ribs. Lower– to the softness of his waist. Lower– to the band of the jeans he fell asleep in. He knows what you want. What you need. Most of your arguments end the same way. One of you stops it early, before things get nasty. There’s no resolution, just anger and hate and energy sitting in the air. It needs to be spent somehow.
But he’s tired. You’ve been gone since yesterday morning, longer than you’ve ever been out. And he was awake, waiting for you to walk through the door, weighing when and where he needed to storm off to find you. Adrenaline has come and gone and turned Joel to a husk.
“Tired, baby,” he mutters, placing his hand over yours.
“No, no,” you whisper, though you stall your movements. “Don’t worry about me, baby. Just let me take care of you.” You look at him expectantly, begging silently.
Joel nods and you send him the most honest-to-god beaming smile he’s ever seen as your hands unbutton his jeans. He’s– shamefully –half-hard by the time you work him out of his jeans, and the way you take his tip into his mouth, hands working the rest of his length, has him solid so fast he’s dizzy.
It’s unceremonious and awkward. You lean over your lap to fit him in your mouth. Your bad leg rests on the ground, straight at the knee. He wants to stop you, tell you to move into a more comfortable position, but then his tip hits the back of his throat and all bets are off. His hands knot in your hair as he groans.
His length pulses in the wet heat of your mouth. He bites back a curse along with the carnal need to take control, hold your head and just thrust. You’d let him, too. That was the worst part of it. You’d let him just take control and abuse your throat. You’d look up at him with wide eyes, tears building up, maybe they’d spill over.
You’d let all that happen because you were just so fucking good to him. So he stops you, pulling you off of his length with the hand fisted in your hair. You mewl, looking back at him with confused eyes.
The hand in your hair comes to your chin, bringing your face to him. “Lay back down, baby,” he mutters against your lips.
He doesn’t take off your underwear, just pushes it to the side as he presses a finger to your clit in a languid circling. Your hips chase his touch as best you can, mindful of bandages that seem to have just gotten bloodier over time.
“Careful,” he tuts, though he allows two fingers to slip into your heat. Soaked.
Joel rolls himself on top of you, and your good leg comes to wrap around him, hugging him close. He wastes no time in sinking into you, starting with a brutal pace.
You entangle yourself in him, reaching to get as much of Joel into your arms as you can. You tangle your hands in your hair, trace the line of his jaw, put a hand to his mouth while he plants a kiss on your palm– you’re trying to get close to him, as much as you can without making the pain in your legs scream even more.
He wants to tell you he missed you, that he’s worried, but then you flex around him, squeezing around his length. He’s reminded of how positively debauched this all is. The morning. He promises himself he’ll tell you in the morning.
His thrusts get sloppier, its staccato less rhythmic as he reaches his peak. You worked wonders on him with your mouth, and it’s biting him in the ass. The lingering of your touch and sensation of being close to you, after so long, has him fighting the urge to let go.
“Where?” He gasps, hips unrelenting in their assault. Your hands fist in his shirt, nails digging to bite at his skin through the fabric.
“Inside,” you rasp, and he almost finishes at the thought of his cum dripping from your cunt. You’d keep it in,
“So fucking good to me, baby,” he grunts.
He’s close. You’re close. You’ve given up on biting back your moans– your neighbors be damned. You’ve begun murmuring beneath him, words of admiration he can’t hear with his bad ear, yet you mutter them all the same. You take advantage of these moments to share the most intimate parts of yourself without fear of his cold judgment. The same intimacy he’s never reciprocated.
He spits in his hand and slips it back down to your clit. He circles it once, twice, and you melt. The sensations are too much for you, the drag of his cock, the wetness of him swirling at your clit, his choked moans in your ears– they’re all cruel and make your vision go white.
Your orgasm pushes him over the edge. He curses, a rare sound in your ear, but continues his drilling into your cunt.
“So. Damn. Good.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, pushing his spend deeper into you. You clench around him, a vice-grip emphasizing the way he just fills you.
His cock twitches one last time before he draws himself out. A pear of your mixed release slips out with him. You watch his face as his eyes fix on the drip, as he contemplates it before scooping it up and back into your abused cunt.
He lowers himself unceremoniously back down on the bed. Your eyes aren’t on him anymore. They occupy themselves with the ceiling, glazed over with something akin to coldness. You reach for his hand, though, taking it in yours and pulling it to your chest. He leans into you. The arm over your chest pulls you close, while a thick leg traps you beneath him. His head nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your heady scent.
“I need you,” he mummers into your skin.
“I love you,” you say.
He doesn’t say it back.
Drifting to sleep, Joel hears a sniffle, muffled into the fabric covering his chest. It’s just the cold, he tells himself. You’re sniffling because of the cold.
****
He wakes up alone, head pounding with the beginning aches of a migraine. Not now, please. The last of the painkillers were traded to pay for winter heating in the apartment. The chill still finds its way in the crumbling walls of the building, though. Most days it’s bearable, when he can pull your body up against his. But you’re not here.
It’s dark out, still. There’s no way curfew was up. How much sleep did you even get last night? Did you even sleep?
He calls your name. His voice fills the space. When the sound echoes back to him, something in his stomach curls.
Your boots and bag are gone. In fact, your sneakers are missing from the small line of shoes by the door.
He takes a moment to ground himself, breathing deeply before the pang in his stomach comes to consume him. Emotions aren’t easy to regulate, not when they come to you. Especially not when you’re out in a blizzard. Injured. And tired.
He goes about his day after that, anxious at your absence, but there was business he needed to tend to. It’s not until dinnertime, when the emptiness in his stomach is too much to ignore, that he discovers it.
The photo on the fridge has been his favorite. Tommy took it with an old polaroid. You’re tucked under Joel’s arm, beaming as he plants a kiss on your cheek. When you’re gone, and Joel’s feeling lonely, it keeps him company. It reminds him of an easier time, when FEDRA wasn’t on your tails. When being together was easier.
The picture is gone, and in its place is a note, scribbled on a single, crumpled piece of paper.
He can’t read the letter– refuses to put himself through loss like that again, even at the cost of closure– but his thumb traces the last line of the note. It’s written in bigger, messier text. He still recognizes it as your own. Perhaps it was an afterthought. Perhaps you didn’t want to be presumptuous, just to disappoint.
See you on the other side.
For the first time since you smiled at him in that hallway, Joel Miller feels alone.
#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller smut
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Keep Me Warm ⧸ Tecchou Suehiro
༞ Contains..! smut, established relationship, consent, groping, teasing, begging, dry humping, grinding slight!mind break, praise, fingering, one use of "good boy", cockwarming, lovemaking, slight!oral fixation, gentle kisses, creampie, aftercare, cuddles
༞ AFAB Reader.
༞ 2,608 words.
Your husband is a baby when it comes to cold weather. When winter rolls around, Tecchou is clingier than ever. He's practically hanging off of you everywhere you go. Making a warm meal to share under a nice cozy blanket while you watch A Bug’s Life for the millionth time? Yeah, he's your little shadow during those moments. Your husband's large palms smooth over your tummy as his head ducks low; leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck. Tecchou isn't afraid to let his hands roam underneath the fabric of your sweater, letting out a soft sigh against your neck at the feeling of the warmth from your skin radiating on his palms.
You don't mind Tecchou's clingy antics, though. You find them endearing, especially when you finally get to the couch. Meals happily devoured, eyes fixated on the television as your husband cuddles into you sweetly. His cold digits roam the expanse of your torso from underneath your sweater. A chill runs up your spine from the icy touch. "Sorry, angel..." Tecchou mumbles against the nape of your neck, pulling you close to his chest. You were glued to lap. Even if you tried to pull a single centimeter away- Tecchou would firmly pull you back into him.
"Hiro, honey- are you still paying attention to the movie? You aren't even looking at the TV." You stifle a chuckle. Tecchou had been nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck since the start of the movie. Desperately trying to warm his cold nose. He let out a soft sigh, large palms gliding down your midsection to your thighs. "I'm trying, but I can't seem to get warm. I thought your body heat would have rubbed off on me by now."
You giggled at his words as you strained your neck to get a glimpse of your husband. "Hiro, don't you know that skin-to-skin contact works best when people are freezing their asses off? I feel like your Hunting Dogs training should have included something like that- you know, in case of emergency?" You watched as Tecchou processed your words for a brief moment, tilting his head in that charming way that you adored so much any time he was deep in thought. Suddenly, It was like a lightbulb went off in his head.
"Then, why don't we try that?" You laughed for a moment, "Very funny, Hiro- wait... you aren't joking, are you?" He gave you a tight-lipped smile as you watched his cheeks tint pink. "Only if you are comfortable with that, of course." You turned slightly in his lap, facing him a little better before placing a chaste kiss atop his lips.
"Of course, I am okay with that, Hiro. Anything to keep you warm, my love." You flashed him a bright smile before slowly rising from the sofa. "Guess there's only one thing left to do!" You chuckled, tugging your warm sweater over your head. Your cozy winter pajama pants and panties were quick to follow. If this was going to work, you would have to fully commit- right?
Your husband's blush spread to the tips of his ears as he averted his gaze. If he were to stare at you for too long, he would surely become hard. "R-Right," Tecchou spoke softly, before ridding himself of his sweats and boxers. You watched in amusement as he lifted his hips off the couch, stealing a glance at his half-hard cock when he was too preoccupied with pulling his sweatshirt off his head.
"Okay, let's give this a shot!" You snickered, making yourself comfortable atop his lap once more. Tecchou gasped when your bare body made contact with his sturdy thighs. His strong arms hesitantly encased around your waist once more tonight as you focused on pulling the blanket back over your lap. You couldn't stop a smirk from tugging at your lips when you felt your husband's cock begin to twitch slightly against the small of your back.
You paid it no mind though. Happily continuing to watch the movie. But Tecchou was having a rather difficult time acting as though he wasn't immensely turned on by this whole predicament. His mind was fuzzy at the feeling of your pussy pressing up against his thigh. Tecchou could feel your essence coating his skin as the minutes ticked by. Not to mention how soft and warm your breasts felt beneath his large palms. Your perked nipples rubbing against his calloused flesh sent a chill down his spine. Fuck, you had him wrapped around your finger.
"Are you feeling warmer now, honey?" You cooed. Pushing back into your husband playfully, eliciting a groan from him. His cock was fully erect at this point, and he was throbbing with need. You weren't oblivious to this fact, but you wanted to see how long it took before your husband caved. "Mhm... very... but-" Tecchou's voice trailed off as he placed a soft kiss against the side of your throat. His tongue darted out to lick down your nape slowly, causing you to squeak.
"But..?" You urged him on, gliding your slick pussy against his muscular thigh. Loving the way your husband's grip on your tits tightened at your devious act. He let out a sigh before mumbling, "But, I think If I were in-inside you... I'd feel a whole lot warmer."
Your smirk grew tenfold at how easy it was to get your husband so desperate for you. It was quite cute, really. "Oh is that right? So what you're saying is- you want me to help keep your cock warm too?" You're sure the expression on his face was priceless if the small gasp he let out was an indicator of anything. Tecchou remained silent for a moment, before he breathlessly whispered, "Please..."
"Aww, you asked so nicely. How could I ever say no?" You brought your hand beneath the blanket, tugging one of your husband's hands away from your breast. You guided his deft digits down your midsection slowly, only removing your hand from his when you successfully tucked his large palm between your thighs. "But first, we gotta make some room for you, yeah?"
Tecchou's hair tickled your neck as he nodded in agreement, wasting no time dipping his middle finger into your inviting heat. You bit your lip as your husband slowly began pumping his long finger into your cunt. His pace was slow, but the pleasure bubbling in your core was mind-numbing, and when he added his ring finger, your toes curled. "Fuck- you're so wet, angel. Can't believe this is all mine."
Pride flooded your chest at his words as Tecchou's fingers pushed deeper. Your hips lifted off his lap slightly when he began scissoring his fingers inside your pussy. This went on for a few moments more, before you gently tugged his hand, urging him to stop. If he were to continue like this, you would surely cum. "Good boy, Hiro... you're always so good to me, huh? I think I'm ready to keep you warm now, my love."
Your husband let out a deep groan as your hand snuck between your bodies, grasping the base of his cock firmly. You rubbed the tip of his ruddy cock through your folds, gathering up as much slick as you could. Tecchou's hands quickly shot to your hips, grip tight and unwavering as he tried to keep his composure. The slightest bit of friction drove him wild, and the moment the blunt tip of his cock pushed past the tight ring of your pussy- a loud moan escaped his throat.
"Fuck, so ti-tight..." Tecchou babbled. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth as you concentrated on taking every inch of your husband's length. Tecchou's fingernails dug into your hips. It took everything in him not to slowly push you down on his cock in that moment. He opted for just holding you still, allowing you to take the reins. The moment he was fully sheathed inside you, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.
"There... a perfect fit, hah- feeling warmer now, my love?" You whispered in between pants, involuntarily clenching and unclenching around your husband's cock as you adjusted to his size. Tecchou was throbbing wildly inside you as the tip of his length nudged your sweet spot with each twitch. "Yes... so warm, so fu-fucking warm." His hands still tightly clutched your hips as his mind went fuzzy. He wanted nothing more than to fuck up into you until you both came.
"I'm glad to hear, Honey. Guess that means we can watch the movie without any distractions now." You teased, accentuating your words with a slow roll of your hips. Tecchou hissed, tightening his grip on your hips. Keeping you flush against his lap to prevent you from wiggling any further. If you kept going like this, he was sure he would cum.
The movie was nearly over now, but that didn't stop you from pretending to pay attention as you clenched around your husband's cock viciously. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't feel a single shred of remorse. Hearing Tecchou huff, whine, and groan into the shell of your ear as he desperately tried not to fuck up into you was far too good for you to stop. You just wondered how long it would take for your darling husband to snap.
"Are you liking the movie, Hiro? This is one of your favorite parts, right?" You quipped, slowly gyrating your hips. Tecchou was silent besides the sharp inhale of breath from time to time. You brought your hands down to dance along the sides of his thick thighs. He stiffened at this, cock throbbing deep inside your warm wet heat. "Oh, what is with the sudden silent treatment? Cat got your tongue?" You teased, raking your fingernails down his built thighs. You heard him grunt through gritted teeth. You were sure he was clenching his jaw at this point.
"If there's something on your mind, you need to speak up, my love." You cooed. Straining your neck slightly to get a glimpse of his countenance. Tecchou's eyes were half-lidded, chestnut orbs swirling with need. His cheeks were dusted a deep shade of crimson, and his eyebrows were knitted in concentration. You smiled widely at his expression before you whispered, "Well? I'm all ears, baby." You placed a small kiss on his lips, turning ever so slightly to watch as he begged you to let him fuck you.
"Please... I need more..." He grunted, giving you a pleading look as you tilted your head in feigned ignorance. "More? More what, honey? You gotta be more specific than that." You cooed. Gyrating your hips tantalizingly slow. You watched as his eyes closed briefly, taking in a deep breath before he spoke lowly. "Please, let me... let me make love to you, angel. You keeping me warm is just making me needy, and I c-can't take it anymore..." He bit his quivering bottom lip once all his words were out.
The need for you was overwhelming, and Tecchou was beginning to lose his damn mind. You placed one last kiss atop his lips before you whispered, "All you had to do was ask, my love." With that, his hips experimentally lifted off the sofa, delivering a sloppy but shallow thrust. You both moaned out in unison from the pleasurable friction. You had not realized how wound up you were just from having your husband nestled deep inside you until Tecchou began fucking up into you.
His thrusts started off sloppy, but soon he found his rhythm. Tecchou's hands trailed from your hips to the back of your thighs, pulling you down into each of his thrusts. A string of "Thank you, thank you- thank you!" escaped your husband's throat. Your pussy fluttered around his length each time the tip of his cock nudged your g-spot. Your one hand still held his thigh for support, digging your nails into his flesh each time your husband delivered a particularly rough thrust. Your other hand came up above your head. You felt around for a moment before your fingertips found his messy tufts of hair. You pulled at the stands that resided on the nape of his neck as he fucked you vigorously.
Your mind was spinning at the small whines and whimpers your husband let out against your neck in between kisses and soft lovebites. "Ah... you're so deep, Hiro! Don't stop- don't fucking stop!" You cried out, tummy swirling with immense heat. You nearly lost your mind when one of Tecchou's hands trailed between your parted thighs. The pad of his thumb quickly found your clit, wasting no time rubbing tight circles into your puffy bud. The feeling of his cock prodding your g-spot paired with your husband's skillful thumb working over your sensitive clit was enough to hurl you over the edge.
"Fuck! Hiro- 'm cumming..!" You let out a loud whine as you gushed all over your husband's cock. Your hips twitched wildly as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your vision went blurry for a moment as your hand tightened in his hair, pulling a deep groan from Tecchou. He nearly came from the feeling of you soaking his cock, but he didn't want to cum. Not just yet, not until he was sure it was okay. "Hah, angel, can I come inside? I-Is that okay? I can't hold on for too much lo-longer, hah..."
Your mind was still fuzzy from cumming only moments ago. All you could do was nod vigorously. You pushed your hips closer to your husband before you babbled, "Please cum inside me! Fill me up, baby. Give me all you got..." That was all it took for Tecchou to succumb. He let out an obscene moan of your name as his hips faltered, pushing himself as deep as he could get as hot ropes of cum began to spill inside you. You let out a small gasp at the feeling of your husband's cum coating your walls. There was so much, and he was twitching wildly.
"So good, so perfect... and mine. All mine..." Tecchou babbled as he emptied the last of his load inside your spent pussy. You basked in the fullness as you felt your husband begin to soften inside you. Tecchou slowly lifted you up by your hips, letting out a hiss as his cock slipped out of you. His cum dripped down your thighs and onto his as he turned you around in his lap so he could admire your face. You smiled softly at Tecchou as he cradled you in his arms, tugging the blanket that had been discarded in the heat of the moment over your naked frame.
"That's right, I'm all yours, baby." You smiled brightly at him, hand caressing his cheek. You traced your thumb over the three distinct markings that decorated his countenance, before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your heart skipped a beat from the gentleness your husband held for you. He cradled you so tenderly in his arms like he didn't just fuck you senseless. It made you chuckle to yourself slightly. "Hm, what's so funny? Did I do something weird?" Tecchou tilted his head like a confused puppy as he examined your face. You couldn't help but chuckle a little more at his cluelessness.
"No baby, you are perfect. You didn't do anything weird, it was nothing- really! Why don't we take a bath, hm? I think that'll warm us up nicely."
#suehiro tecchou x reader#tecchou suehiro#tecchou x reader#suehiro tecchou#bsd tecchou#tecchou smut#bungou stray dogs tecchou#tetchou suehiro#suehiro tetchou#bsd tetchou#tetchō suehiro#tetchou x reader#tecchou suehiro x reader#bsd x reader#bsd imagines#bsd smut#bsd#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs imagines#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs smut#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bungou stray dogs x you
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Time To Grow Out Body Hair!
A Post On Stopping Body Hair Removal!
As the temperatures are slowly rising above freezing temperatures, you may be thinking about spring and summertime. A lot may also be considering whether to pick shaving/waxing up again after a winter of leaving it be; you may also just continue shaving/waxing as you've always done.
But, for the girls and women considering stopping shaving/waxing, I hope to share some tips and pros that may help you decide! (Additions are always welcome!)
If you're worried about sensory issues, let me reassure you. The uncomfortable part about growing out your hair on your armpits, arms, legs, pubic hair, eyebrows, facial hair, happy trail, between the cheeks, et cetera, is overwhelmingly the stubble stage! This can be uncomfortable at first, and I recommend moisturising a bit more than usual to help soften them out. Body oils, baby oils and conditioners can also work miracles! Wear comfortable clothing, keep up your hygiene, and power through. Before you know it, you will pass the stubble stage and your hair will be softer.
Even if your hair is coarse, it will be better than stubble. Let it settle for a while. Give it time. It's why I made this post so early in the year, after all! Additionally, is the temporary discomfort of stubble enough reason for you to not think about the other (in my case more severe) sensory issues of:
Ingrown hairs! Razor/Irritation bumps! Dry skin! The pain of waxing! The accidental cuts from the razor! In my opinion, none of these are better than the temporary discomfort of stubble.
Did you grow out your body hair and it is too long and becomes inconvenient, or it gets tangled, consider trimming instead of shaving/waxing. That way you still will not suffer the issues mentioned above!
Worried about hygiene? Women report both sometimes sweating more as well as less when stopping to shave. Of course, this also depends on hormone levels, the food you eat, how much water you drink, or your health, all of which are susceptible to change all the time. Sometimes I sweat more and then a few months I sweat less. Switching up hygiene products, drinking more, eating less processed foods/drinking less processed drinks, switching up deodorants or finding alternatives, or wearing different materials alone can be extremely beneficial.
Bottom line: keep washing regularly and body hair will not be an issue. You don't have to perform any other actions besides thoroughly washing your body as usual to maintain the hygiene of your body hair. All in all, considering you are removing the entire practice of body hair removal, it requires actually less upkeep than you may be used to.
Indeed, especially pubic hair is actually better for you. It acts as a protective buffer and reduces friction during sex. The protective buffer shields you from dirt, any harmful bacteria or pathogens and other undesirable microorganisms. The hair also creates a natural oil (like on your scalp) that helps prevent bacteria from reproducing. Pubic hair also helps prevent infections such as yeast infections, STIs and UTIs! As with the above, if you wash it regularly like the rest of your body, it is in no way unhygienic! The information that pubic hair is unhygienic is a myth to ensure you keep buying hair removal products.
That's right, though shaving was occasionally practiced in the past, modern shaving is largely encouraged by and part of making a profit! Circa the 1920s, it became slowly socially acceptable for women to show their legs and armpits during some social situations. Companies like Gillette decided to broaden their target audience of men shaving facial hair. Advertisements began to claim being hairy is inherently unhygienic. This is false. I encourage not wasting your money (it's expensive!) on extensively removing your body hair based on a scam.
Also, consider all the waste of plastic in the majority of waxing strips and razors that you have to frequently replace! If you ever needed a product to keep out of your shopping list for the sake of the environment, consider waxing strips and razors!
Feel more confident in your skin! Never have I felt more confident than seeing my natural body and loving it just the way it is.
I also assure you, in real life (so no don't look at social media posts,) very few care. If at all, you may have more backlash from your family (usually also out of shame or worry that you will be ostracised) than strangers. I've had two curious double-takes perhaps in an entire year. Those strangers that would potentially judge you, do you want them in your life? No? Then don't worry about them. And in time, your confidence will grow. The odd comment on your appearance won't even bother you anymore. This is a good thing!
Still feeling shame or worry? Check if your shame has become debilitating. So many women are dreading to see a doctor because they're scared of being judged for their body hair. As such, they have sometimes waited too long. Medical complications, all because of shame for their natural bodies! This should horrify you and should help you think about whether your shame of body hair has gone too far. It truly is time to stop letting indoctrinated shame endanger your life!
What if you are alright with all of the above but you are still uncomfortable and you just don't like the look of body hair? Or, what if you are worried a (potential) romantic partner won't like it, I am going to ask you, and you need to think about it deeply and answer to yourself: why would (subjective/ever-changing) beauty(standards) be more important to you than your health and comfort?
When you shave and/or wax and you say you "do it for yourself," how true is that? What if you do it for yourself, what does it do for you and why? Do as you will, but why perform an action you are unsure of why you do it at all?
Radical acceptance and being comfortable with your body is subversive. You will always be pressured to change, to dress up, to remove, to fit into something, to shape something up, to slim down, to be feminine, to be desirable, et cetera, it's spiralling and unhealthy! Instead, choosing comfort and acceptance as a woman is revolutionary.
I've had friends come up to me that they've always considered quitting shaving but never dared until they saw someone who doesn't. They told me they'd found the guts to give it a try themselves too. So many want to but don't know where or how to begin, some of us have to be the first!
#anti shaving#body positive#body positivity#body neutrality#feminism#female body hair#body hair#anti body hair removal#body hair removal#radical feminism#radical feminist#feminist
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icy nights | cedric diggory x f.r
cedric invites you to go ice skating on christmas night, and how could you say no to him?
warnings: kissing, just pure fluff. <3
reminder: english is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes.
“Where did you even get those?” you asked Cedric as he closed the front door behind him, the yelling and laughing of the people at the living room now becoming a barely mumbling as you both walked.
Cedric was holding two pairs of ice skates, one for you, one for him. He smiled as he talked. “My older cousins. They were the ones allowed to go ice skating during the holidays while I just watched them from my room because I was too young and I could get hurt. Now they get to watch”
You laughed as you kept walking, hands deep inside your pockets as you looked up at the sky. Despite being late at night, the stars were enough to light up the sky along with the moon.
Cedric’s house was a comfy place to spend Christmas at. It smelled just like the perfect amount of pumpkin and gingerbread, with the fire and those amazing cookies that Cedric’s grandma made and basically forced you to eat more than once. His family was nice, more than nice actually, really sweet and caring, and it made you feel like part of the family too, despite only being with Cedric for a few months.
His house was small, but it was located at a rural zone, and it had such a landscape that every time you looked at it when you woke up, the soft sun and orange dawn would take your breath away. Also, it had a lake, one in which him and his cousins would swim during summer and now, skate on during winter.
Only this time, it was just you and him.
“Do they fit?” he asked as he finished tying your laces, and placed one of his hands on your calve as you shook your foot, smoothly drawing circles with his thumb.
“They’re a little big, but it’s fine” you answered. He nodded once, then sat at the bench next to you.
“Let me put on mine” he said as he took off his shoes. “Have you ever ice skated before?” he questioned.
“No” you replied as you looked at him. You loved how soft yet smooth and marble looking skin looked tonight. His cheeks were red, as always, but it contrasted perfectly with the pale color of his face. His lips, plumped and pink, weren’t even dry because of the freezing weather. Unlike yours, you had to apply lip balm every five minutes.
Truth was, Cedric looked good at all times, but something about this particular night that made your tummy flip in a different way whenever you looked at him, almost as if it was the first day you met, in which you felt the exact same.
Winter just went so good with him. The turtle neck, the long coat, almost brushing his ankles, the ridiculously long scarf and his black jeans. His ears were red because he refused to wear a beanie, so you wore it instead.
Cedric thought it looked cute on you. After all, your cheeks were just as red as his and the soft cream colored accessory on your head that combined with your outfit just made you look like a tiny marshmallow to his eyes. He loved it.
“Okay, slowly” he pointed out when you almost fell once you stepped into the ice. You gripped his hands tightly as you closed your eyes even tighter. “Okay, honey, you have to use your eyes” you heard his laugh ring in your ears.
“How can you do this so easily? Skating backwards!?” you panicked. Your feet were moving smoothly along the ice, and you could stay like this forever, if it wasn’t for the fact that the reason why you were moving forward, was because your boyfriend was pushing you towards his body, that kept moving back and back and back.
“It’s easy, you’ll see” he tried to sound as calm as possible to calm you down. After a few seconds he decided to let go of your left hand slowly, to which you didn’t complain as much as he expected you to. “Open your eyes”
You shook your head.
“Come on” he smiled “I won’t let go of you”
He could never let go.
You both stopped your slow skating as you opened your eyes, looking down at your feet. The fact that the only thing that was holding you to the ground was a thin and sharp piece of shiny blade was what made you the most nervous. Staring off wrong would definitely make you fall to the ground and have the worst embarrassment from your life.
“H-how do I do this? I feel like I’ll fall”
“You won’t fall” he laughed out loud. “Merlin, you are so cute” he muttered almost to himself, but he knew you heard. It made your cheeks redder. “Just go slow, I promise I won’t let you go”
You nodded as he took the initiative, smoothly sliding his thin skates through the ice, which made a satisfactory sound anytime the blade cut the thick layer of frozen water.
You then started to do it on your own without even noticing. The cold wind of the night hit into your face sharply, but you didn’t care. Cedric held your hand as you started to go faster and faster, almost as if you tried to race your boyfriend.
“See? You got it!” he encouraged you. “Can I let go now?”
“No! You promised you wouldn’t, Ced!” you yelled as you abruptly turned around. The sudden move made you both trip in your own feet and soon, you fell to the ice.
Your butt hit the hard surface as Cedric slightly groaned when he hit his forearm, but quickly started to laugh.
“I’m sorry” you giggled.
“It’s fine, honey”
He sighed deeply as he let himself fall in the cold ice, coat getting wet and a deep freezing breeze brushing his head and neck. You imitated him, laying next to his body as you felt both sensations, the coldness of the ice and snow, and the warmth of his body.
The sky was shiny, just as every night that you saw this past week that you slept at Cedric’s house. However, seeing it from the middle of the lake, staring directly at it, was completely different than looking at it from a window.
This was much better. It was like your eyes weren’t big enough to look around you, but everything was at your sight. The leafless trees, the house yellow lights, the big and white moon as the stars shinned around it.
You suddenly felt out of breath at such beauty.
“It’s beautiful” you whispered.
“It is” Cedric agreed.
Only that he wasn’t looking at the sky. He was looking at you.
You turned your head when you felt his eyes on you. You thought his words, and hid your face in the thick layer of your coat to prevent him of seeing your poor red face. He laughed as he put his forearm over his forehead, really looking at the sky this time.
“I’m really glad you’re here with me” he said. The tip of his fingers touched yours, laying on the ice and wetting your fingertips.
You gripped your hand around his index finger, holding tightly. He secretly loved it when you did it.
“I’m glad you’re with me too” you answered, then turned your head to him, so you could live this moment one last time before getting back inside, as you promised Cedric’s mum you would so you wouldn’t get sick. “Merry Christmas, Ced”
His dimples showed when he smiled at you again. “Merry Christmas, baby”
#cedric diggory#cedric diggory x fem!reader#cedric diggory x reader#cedric diggory x y/n#cedric diggory x you#cedric x y/n#cedric x you#cedric diggory x female reader#cedric#cedric x fem!reader#cedric deserved better#cedric imagine#cedric diggory imagine#cedric x oc#cedric x reader#cedric diggory blurb
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Asmodeus Facts!
As a lore person and Asmo lover, I present this.
I am willing to add more as I think of them or as they are suggested (with proof).
13+
1. As most people know: Asmo has canonically given Solomon hickeys before.
2. His favorite animal is a resplendent quetzal. (A bird)
3. Asmo unintentionally was a huge factor in the Trojan War starting.
4. Raphael used to scold Asmo a lot, causing him to dislike Raphael. He doesn't feel this way anymore.
5. He sleeps naked.
6. Asmo's biggest fear is turning ugly and essentially loosing all of his worth.
7. He can smell if people are romantically interested in each other.
8. He has had a face lift before.
9. A lot of fan mail is sent to the RAD suggestion box for him.
10. He is *surprisingly* not very flexible.
11. Has referred to Mc as his 'Bestie'. He and Lucifer have also said that he was madly in love with them. So... why not both?
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12. *TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDER*
He panics over gaining the slightest amount, down to a kilogram of weight or a millimeter more onto his waist. He also goes on diets and refuses to eat frequently. Satan has also stated that he's seen Asmo sneak snacks in the middle of the night. All of this implies that he struggles with an eating disorder.
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13. Mammon once found a 'crazy provocative' outfit in his room that was 'FULL of holes!' (Turns out it was one of his favorite outfits chewed up by moths!)
14. In the Celestial Realm he was known as the 'Jewel of the Heavens'. Simeon states that Asmo is still constantly trying to live up to that standard.
15. Y'know how some people can tie a knot in a cherry stem? Well Asmo can tie a butterfly knot!
16. Asmo's dyed his hair pink before and presumably still does on occasions.
17. Asmo is the one who paints all the brother's nails. And this is typically done with a paint brush, not the average nail polish brush.
18. He always puts on a face mask right before he goes to bed.
19. Asmo prefers smooth red bean paste over chunky.
20. He hates being cold and the downsides of winter, like dry skin. Yet, he does love the aesthetic of winter.
21. He doesn't like carrying people as he believes it will cause him to gain muscle. He believes he's more desirable thin.
22. When he first met Solomon, he was in the middle of crying alone at a bar. Solomon came up to him to ask if he was okay. This, and the rest of their conversations that night, eventually led to their current relationship.
23. He enjoys gossiping with Satan.
24. While most demons dislike uses of pacts, Asmo finds them heavily thrilling.
25. He admits to admiring Lucifer the most.
26. Asmo believes that he can always rely on Satan.
27. Asmo enjoys hanging out with Mammon and becomes proud of him for his accomplishments. Though, he likes teasing him because it keeps him on his toes and he believes that Mammon acts the most foolish out of all of them.
28. Demon's have to give their human pact mate something to allow summonings. Asmo gifted Solomon a gigantic oil painting of himself. It was notably his favorite 'selfie' at the time.
29. He is a dog person. He prefers big dogs to little ones.
30. He's never read the student handbook despite being on the student council.
31. Is actually pretty good at juggling a ball with his feet. Good enough to score 5th place out of the 15 characters.
32. Satan has allowed him to copy off of his homework before.
33. His birthday is May 15th, making him a Taurus.
34. He put together Levi's human world outfit.
35. He hates his true demon form, something Mammon often jokes about.
36. Asmo is the weakest brother in terms of strength. He gets worn out incredibly easily. (Maybe because of fact 12 and your refusal to gain muscle or weight. What am I going to do with you, love?)
37. A large amount of his fan base calls him 'daddy'.
38. He frequently teases Levi about having no friends.
39. Really good at rock-papper-scissors.
40. Doesn't really care what happens to him as long as he looks cute during. Even if it's a terrible curse.
41. He is an extremely emotional drunk. He will start sobbing when intoxicated in the slightest.
42. He is not ashamed about his own dirty mind. He even calls out Mammon for having one too.
43. Ass or Tits? Asmo chooses ass.
44. Doodles in textbooks. He even left a kiss mark in Solomon's once when borrowing it.
45. Lucifer practically goes, "Keep the door open" Whenever he catches Solomon, Mc, or anyone else hanging out with Asmo.
46. Isn't good at silly faces. He ends up looking gorgeous instead of silly.
47. Can be horrifying when angry. Beel is more scared of an angry Asmo than an angry Lucifer.
48. Mc is practically the first ever person to like him romantically and not sexually. He has said that no one before Mc has ever complimented his personality before, only his looks.
49. Loves bonding with his brothers even if they're completely opposite of him. He remembers more about Ruri-chan than any of the other brothers (hinted at) just because he actually cares to listen to Levi and bond with him.
50. What part of his body does he wash first when bathing? Well, you'll have to bathe with him to find out~
51. He held his first Asmofest/Asmo gathering 7 days after his birth. These are now held several times a month. He spends time with people he likes, usually drinking. Lucifer is present at most of them.
52. Asmo once wished to have 8 heads. His brother's made him give up on this dream.
53. Asmo requested that Levi write him a novel. This novel was called Space Pajama Party: The Great Beauty War. The hero of the stories name was 'The Hero'. The Hero is based off of MC and the character Atan is based off Levi.
54. According to Asmo, he looks best shot from the left at about a 40 degree angle.
55. It's highly likely that Asmo was the main designer for the guest/Mc's room. Comparing his room to the room, his influence is obvious.
56. He owns an absurd amount of clothes, beauty products, and bathing products.
57. He is terrible at remembering stuff about other people. He even failed a quiz about Solomon, who he considers himself to be insanely close to (This, presumably, does not apply to MC).
58. He works as an influencer on DevilTube and Devilgram. He also does designing. He designs products, clothes, etc. These designs are most notably shown at Majolish but can be seen all around the Devildom. He usually doesn't get paid in grimm for designing, receiving products, and samples instead. He says he prefers that in all honesty (He'd just buy the stuff with grimm anyway).
59. He used to be close to Belphie back in the Celestial Realm. Beel even said that Belphie was practically glued to Asmo's hip.
60. Asmo is the one who came up with the name 'Team Solomon'. Barbatos wasn't a big fan of the name.
61. He was implied to have fucked Santa Claus
62. Even though he is the shortest brother, he often looks taller because he wears heels.
63. Asmodeus knew of Solomon's horrible cooking skills before any of the others. When Solomon tried to serve everybody at the Demon Lord's castle, he purposefully didn't eat any of Solomon's cooking.
64. Asmo is really sensitive about his brother's compliments. One compliment from any of them could bring him to tears easily.
65. During the retreat to the Demon Lord's castle, Asmo becomes heavily affectionate for MC. One of the things he first does is inspect them head to toe, checking their ears, teeth, fingers, etc. This supports him saying that he wishes to know EVERYTHING about MC and potentially any other lover.
66. He doesn't like washing the dishes because it makes his skin rough.
67. To some peoples surprise, he is really good with kids. He even worked with them in the human world. Though, Satan commented that he wouldn't trust his kid with Asmo. He also often makes inappropriate jokes in front of Luke. But, he just shrugs them off and tells Luke that he'll understand when he's older.
68. Asmo enjoys "healing music"
69. (😏) He's a switch. He's quoted to have said, "I'll make you squeal for me!" As well as, "You wanna try some other spots too? Go ahead, I'm all yours." These are two of many lines that help imply this.
70. Despite what many think, he does have standards. He also is not appreciative of randomly being used as an object of beauty or sex. Though he's admitted that he can easily see the good in everyone and finds everyone a little bit attractive in their own way. He also says that he flirts with people so often because his happiness spreads to others and ends up making more people happy. So many people like him, because he likes so many people. Simple as that. But, this doesn't mean he will appreciate just anybody.
71. He didn't have an Asmo gathering for an entire year after the fall. His first one was held with MC as an honorary guest. Solomon couldn't make it.
72. He's implied to like fortune and horoscopes.
73. He doesn't like shopping with 'drab' shopping bags.
74. Asmo tends to photobomb and photo taken around him because he believes he is the most photo-worthy person/thing in the area.
75. He's seen to be unapologetic to any exes he has. He may even flirt with them despite them being annoyed with him.
76. Asmo is seen to heavily miss the Celestial Realm after falling. He repressed most of the feelings for awhile, but they overwhelmed him the first time he saw Simeon and Luke after everything happened.
77. He listed his pronouns on his FabSnap account as Fab/ulous
78. Asmo had trouble calling him and his brothers 'demons' instead of 'angels' for a while after falling.
79. He frequently calls Solomon 'his'.
80. He has a pair of flower earrings that he wears all the time.
81. Asmo, along with his brothers, have all experienced hate for being angels, ex-angels, and demons in different contexts.
82. He has an entire photo album dedicated to photos of himself as an angel.
83. Asmo is not only lustful, but has shown many signs of bloodlust. He even brings up ripping out MC's heart and tearing it open to see if they were telling the truth.
84. He openly admits to being turned on at random.
85. While his brothers fight over bathing order, Asmo likes to go have a nice long bath in his own bathroom just to taunt them.
86. Asmo is pansexual. Good for him.
87. He gets insecure if he doesn't get reassured of MC's love constantly. He texts demanding 'I love yous' and demands compliments.
88. Asmo likes to wear what Mammon calls 'skimpy underwear'.. (And more lingerie!)
89. He very rarely gets more than annoyed. Very rarely even gets annoyed. He isn't seen transforming into his demon form at all during the main story out of anger (And so far from what I've played in Nightbringer). Though, I have seen him transform once in a Devilgram, but he quickly calmed down in seconds.
90. Asmo thinks that drool is unattractive on a man (probably any other gender too, he didn't clarify). He often tells Beel this as a life lesson. (This also presumably does not apply to sex.)
New On May 15th:
91. Solomon has a very hard time saying no to Asmo
92. When giving out gifts, they frequently feature his face. If you're lucky, you may even find yourself with a nice new set of lingerie.
93. Asmo is good at singing, writing, and composing songs. Anywhere from a ballad to hard metal. He even sings live!
94. Solomon once gifted him bath salts made by an incubus. The affect of the charm was SO STRONG that Asmo had to drink an antidote made by Solomon. (It tasted surprisingly good)
95. Asmo is insecure about the fact that he is unable to use his charm ability on MC.
96. In Nightbringer, Satan says that Asmo is the brother he hates the least.
97. Asmo's favorite way to spend his birthday is with people close to him, not with big parties.
98. Asmo really dislikes bugs.
99. Asmo has gathered so many products that he can find something in his collection that works for people with completely different hair and skin from him.
100. He loves flowers, candles, soaps, whatever smell-filled things he can find. (Me who takes allergy medicine on the daily: bro you're gonna murder me the second I step foot in your room.)
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me one master to rule them all#swd asmodeus#asmodeusobeyme#obey me asmodeus#om! asmodeus#obey me lore#fun facts#obey me asmo#asmo <3#asmodeus#miscellaneous facts#facts
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Bounded by blood and shadow (16)
azriel x magic!fem!reader
Kynas is not here. And he hasn’t been here since you last arrived. You used your abilities to try and hone in on anything and you got nothing back. It was useless.
“You should take a break.” Azriel’s voice comes from behind you.
You sigh and turn around to face him now.
There he stands. He’s finally ditched his leathers for something more weather appropriate. Sangri never had a winter season. It was always some type of hot. Warm, sticky or unbearable. The dry season just ended so right now it’s just warm.
You had given him clothes to wear, had left him on the side of his bed he didn’t sleep on before you got your start this morning. He looked like any other person here, besides the wings.
“Take a break and do what?” You ask.
Azriel shrugs his shoulders, “Come train with me.”
“Train? Azriel if you want me to beat you again all you have to do is ask.”
And that’s how you end up in the training room inside the palace. You hadn’t used it in so many years but you were used to it. The divots in the mats, how some of them were worn and easier to step on than others.
Azriel circles you this time.
You two had spoken a couple of words on the way here. He asked you how you slept, and you told him fine. Which was true. You didn’t have a nightmare at all last night. You asked him how he slept and he said fine, which you know was a lie. You heard him tossing and turning. But you didn’t question him about it.
When you two got to the room you showed him around. You showed him the weapons, the gear and the mats.
He rushed you to get back to the plan, which was training. You didn’t really believe that. You don’t know what to believe when it comes to Azriel but him wanting to train with you? Unbelievable.
You both agreed you wouldn’t use powers.
You eye Azriel as he crosses in front of you.
“If I beat you three times, do I get a prize?” You ask.
He smiles, actually smiles. You see how pretty his teeth are. Huh. You want to wipe that smile off his face.
Without another word you launch at him. He side steps you.
“You always launch instead of waiting,” he says.
You grunt, “I was taught in offense.”
“I can tell. What you need is proper defense training.” He answers.
“That’s what the blood bending is for.” You reply.
Azriel clicks his tongue, “You can’t always rely on that to get you out of a fight.”
He grabs your arm and pins it behind your back. Your back to his front. You feel his shadows sneaking up your legs.
“You’re relying on your shadows right now, hypocrite.” You snark.
Azriel lets you go, you put space between you and turn around to face him. He looks at his shadows, that are slinking back to him now. He has that same face he did when you told him about he shadow at your door, and when the shadow yanked you during your second fight with him. Confusion. His shadows are supposed to be a part of him, so why do they like touching you so much?
“One of them joined me last night for my bath.” You add.
Azriel looks at you then, eyes blown wide.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t do that—I didn’t even know about that.” He says.
You take him in for a second. How serious he looks, and how down right sorry he actually seems. His nose and ears turning a dark shade of red. And you can’t help yourself from laughing at the situation. You double over and hold onto your stomach. In between laughs you can see his face change into annoyance. Well, it is funny to you. Hilarious even.
You fall to your knees with your eyes closed.
Somewhere between laughing you can’t catch your breath. It slows the laughter down and you open your eyes. You reach up to your chest and scratch at it. A dark flash goes across your vision. You look down and see multiple shadows skirting across your skin.
You can’t help it, you fall to the mat on your back.
And then he comes into view.
Azriel is kneeling down and asking if you’re okay. You can’t get a word out. You can’t breathe enough air into your lungs. You can feels the shadows and then you feel his hands. His hand over your chest, checking your heart. He then places his fingers on your neck’s pulse point. And you can hear his blood flowing in his veins. Its loud.
“Talk to me, what’s going on?” He says to you.
You shake your head at him, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
You take a sharp breath in. You feel his hand cradle the back of your head.
You can’t fight Kynas. As much as you joke about wanting to kill him, as much as you dream about it, you can’t do it. It means too much to you. Not only is he your ex husband, but he’s also the traitor that tried to sell out his people to the humans. It wasn’t just your pain embedded in this situation. A lot of people want the chance to kill him.
You shake your head again.
If you don’t want to be empress, you’ll have to kill him. You can’t afford to think like this, or to be scared. You can’t afford to make a mistake now.
“No one asked me to babysit you.” Azriel says suddenly.
You look at him, brows furrowed and lip parted. What was he talking about right now?
Seemingly he can read the confusion all over your face, so he clarifies his words.
“When you came to visit Velaris. None of them asked me to watch you before Amren came.”
You take another breath. A big one now, deeper. The sound of his blood becomes lower and lower. You take him in now. You know what you said earlier about his eyes, and how he might’ve had at least a dozen scorned lovers somewhere. And Elaine misses his dearly.
Maybe if you knew him for long enough you would miss him.
You still can’t quite understand what he’s saying to you.
“Why?” You ask him now.
He looks at you for a moment. You can feel his hand, still at the back of your head. And how his thumb is softly moving back and forth. There is no need for it. And yet you don’t pull away. As your breathing evens out and you start to come back to your senses.
“I wanted to get to know you. For myself.” He answers.
There is no room for you to confuse that. He wanted to know you? Well it’s not like you were overly mean to him. He wasn’t mean to you either. It’s just—well, you had thought that he was only looking for information about you. For Nesta, For Rhysand. For whoever else in the inner circle wanted information about you.
“Is that why you’re pretending you’re stuck?” You question.
Even though, at this point, it’s not a question. You have enough sense to connect the dots. He’s trying to get to know you, and with all the curiosity around you the only place he can do so freely without wondering minds watching him is in your home. Your home which he is the only fae allowed to enter.
Azriel nods his head as answer.
You feel his shadows remove themselves from your body. Then he removes his hand from the back of your head. He makes sure to do so softly. You keep looking right at him as he does all of this. He sits back now, knees up and his arms around them. You sit up on your side.
“Quite a predicament we find ourselves in, shadow singer.” You say.
He chuckles, light and soft. Not words you’d used to describe him upon first meeting him. But now, now things are very different.
“Indeed, blood bender.”
-
By the time night time falls you’re in bed. In your hands is one of the many scrolls your brought with you from the library. You’ve been thinking it over and over in your mind. Having to kill Kynas might not be the way to go. Who knows if he’s alone in this wicked plot. What if his death sparks a revolt? What if his death is just the first in a long line of deaths you’ll have to complete?
In your hands right now is the scroll for stripping his powers. Should it come down to a nasty fight, having this in your arsenal wouldn’t hurt. That way you won’t have to kill him, he’ll just be powerless.
In the hallway you can hear footsteps. You put the scroll down on the bed.
“It took you a while in there, I hope you didn’t leave a mess.” You speak.
Azriel had left the room about an hour ago for a snack. You doubt Illyrians have snacks. How could he obtain all that muscle if all he had were tiny meals. He needed to eat at least four times a day. And there were no cleaners inside the palace to tackle what could be a large mess.
On your wrist the shadow seems to tighten the slightest bit. It makes you look at your wrist. You watch the shadow unravel itself and run up your arm.
Something is wrong.
You get out of the bed slowly, trying to keep your footsteps quiet. Which wouldn’t really matter if you think about it. You flick your arm out and form a blood blade the size of your arm out. You creep closer and closer to the door, trying to pick up on anything that might tell you what’s going on.
As you get behind the door you feel it. Three people were outside in the hallway. Three. Azriel, which you already felt and two others.
You don’t wait. You pull the door open even more and walk outside.
There waiting for you in the hallway is your brother, your ex husband, and Azriel.
“Nice to see you again, wife.”
#blood and shadow#acotar x reader#acotar imagine#acotar fic#azriel x reader#azriel imagine#azriel fic
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under your love
jacob x reader
genre: bickering, established relationship, cold weather, cuddling, you attempt to combine with him, but he's a rational and smart person, kisses
notes: UMKJ when i prioritize my mental health, often it leads to me literally accomplishing nothing and falling asleep in the midst of writing .. see you in a bit! love you < 3
word count: 1.5k
With the winter coming, you were forced to somehow get accustomed to the cold weather. It often left you shivering and grabbing for any heat source like a blanket or heater. But, in this particular case, you had a certain someone.
Jacob always radiated warmth, whether you liked it or not. He encompassed you in heat, even during the hottest summer days of the year. And if you complained, he would apologize but still snake his arms around you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.
You always paid attention.
But, he was busy. Work and whatnot. So there you were, stuck in your bed, scrolling through social media and deeply wishing for your boyfriend’s work to finish itself.
At some point, while you were trying to take your mind off how warm his chest would be like at the moment, instead of the cold pillow that had started to cause your neck to hurt, you came across a post. When you pressed on the comments, you almost burst out laughing.
it’s not enough to just cuddle him, i need to climb into his skin (-1, +295)
The more you thought about it, the more it was true. Sure, Jacob was warm. But just his arms and broad chest weren’t enough. You simply had to combine with him. Simply.
Still giggling, you were about to scroll on to the next post until another shiver came over you. Was it really always this cold?
With a sigh, you texted him.
im cold
You bit your lip, waiting for a response–any sort of response, disappointing or not. Ultimately, you knew that he was going to respond with a dry “im at work” topped with an adorable emoji heart because you had once told him that his texts sounded menacing. But when the beep of a notification startled you and you looked at the screen, you sat up in alarm.
on my way
And right on cue, you heard footsteps down the hallway and the door unlocking. You were ready to grab something and throw it at the intruder, but when you noticed the familiar tuft of warm brown hair and his kind, kind eyes, you relaxed. And then you straightened again.
“You were home this whole time?” You gawked at him.
“Baby,” He groaned. “I told you in the morning that I was working from home. But of course you didn’t hear me.” He approached you, sitting next to you on the bed.
You huffed, shoving him shyly.
“It’s not my fault you kissed me senseless at the break of dawn. I can’t focus.”
“Why, because I’m such an amazing kisser?”
“Yes.” You scowled. “You are an amazing kisser and that annoys me.”
“You love it, don’t lie.” He smirked. Before you could even come up with some dumb response, he was pulling back the covers and climbing into bed with you. You watched with wide eyes but a shy smile as he maneuvered his way around your body to pull you in close to his chest.
“Shouldn’t you be working from home?”
“My manager can wait. He has cats.”
“What does that–”
“He adores them. So I gave him time to be a cat dad.”
“Ah, how considerate,” You sarcastically replied.
“Admit it, you love cuddling me,” He whispered, letting his hands wander all over your lower back, spreading warmth all throughout.
“Hm,” You hummed, wiggling ever so closer to his body. “It’s not enough,” You simply stated.
He raised an eyebrow with a slightly amused smile.
“Then what more?”
“I have to climb into your skin,” You bluntly replied, though your voice wavered at the end as you tried not to burst out laughing.
He blinked, shifting back slightly to stare at you with narrowed eyes.
“What.”
You frowned and looked at him with a pleading look in your eyes. “Why, is it such a bad idea?”
He only stared at you incredulously. And then he chuckled softly.
“You can’t be serious,” He muttered.
“I am so serious,” You grumbled.
“Mhm,” He teased as he pulled you closer. “And no, I can’t let you do that. That has to be some sort of horror movie concept. Climbing into my skin?”
Instead of humoring him, you sighed and sulked even more. He watched you silently with a fond smile, noticing the way you so frequently leaned into his touch even when you were “mad.”
And then he breathed out a small “fine.” When your eyes lit up, he immediately refuted with a shake of his head.
“Not climbing into my skin. Under my hoodie,” He replied.
“Perfect.” You grinned, lifting up his hoodie so that you could maneuver your way under. It was dark for a moment until your head popped out from the top so that your lips were right in front of his. You smiled giddily, finding this whole situation hilarious.
“You’re too warm,” He complained, leaning his head back when you tucked your face into the crook of his neck.
“Now you know how I feel in the summer.” You scowled.
“Alright, alright,” He laughed. “It’s comfy. Happy?”
“Do you really mean it?” You narrowed your eyes skeptically.
“One-hundred percent,” He whispered, smiling as he wrapped his arms around himself—or more accurately—the both of you.
You smiled. “And thank you.”
“For what?”
“For dealing with me.” You grinned. “Admit it, I’m annoying.”
“You know, if it were possible, I would let you climb into my skin,” He replied.
“That’s disgusting.” You grimaced.
“So now you realize?”
“Shut up,” You groaned. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Then sleep,” He chuckled, pulling the covers closer even though his body warmth and hoodie were clear enough. He then leaned in to kiss the top of your head, putting that funny feeling in your heart.
“If I were a worm, would you still love me?” You mumbled. But before you could even hear his answer, you had fallen into a deep sleep.
He smiled fondly without a word, watching you sleep for a while. But then he widened his eyes slightly.
“My work,” He whispered in panic. But when his eyes met your peaceful, sleeping face, he relaxed. “It’s fine. Juyeon’s a cat dad.”
-
The next morning, when you woke up, you were inherently disappointed to see that you were no longer under Jacob’s hoodie. Sitting up, you were met with the sight of a freshly showered boyfriend, his hair attractively wet and his skin oddly glowing.
Yawning, you walked over to where he was sitting at the desk, working from home again, you presumed.
“Can we combine again?” You blurted out.
He looked up at you with a wince. “Don’t say it like that ever again,” He whined. “Plus,” He continued, standing up and rubbing his hands over your arms lovingly. “I don’t have a hoodie on anymore.”
You simply blinked at him, trying to mind-control him somehow.
He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “And I’m working. Few more minutes, promise.”
You frowned but still went to sit back down on the bed. You waited on the sheets, watching him from behind as he typed on the computer. You would never admit it but you were particularly fond of staring at the way his shoulders moved and the way his back muscles showed through his shirt.
Slowly, you began to doze off while still sitting up. Your eyes had grown heavy up until he abruptly turned around with a squeak of his chair.
He smiled softly at you, leaning forward to tuck a finger under your chin to observe your features admiringly.
“Someone’s sleepy,” He sang, getting up and sitting beside you.
“You took too long.” You rolled your eyes.
“Turns out, Juyeon’s cats don’t even like him,” He sighed. “Now he’s on my back for missing work.”
“Sorry.” You frowned.
“Nothing to worry about,” He laughed. “I woke up early to finish it.”
“How early?” You watched him curiously.
“Five in the morning.”
You gasped, slapping him in disbelief. “What do you mean five? Why would you–”
“So I can spend more time with you when you wake up,” Jacob replied, his hand briefly coming up to your hair to smooth it down gently. “So what do you want?”
You slowly relaxed under your touch, in fact, practically turned into jelly when you looked into his deep, brown eyes. Your eyes trailed down to where his other hand was holding yours.
“All of you,” You proudly answered.
“Then…” He grinned before tackling you back into bed. Swiftly, he pulled the blankets over the two of you as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “You have all of me.” You laughed loudly as you allowed him to press you down gently and kiss you all over, the press of your lips decorating your face like stars in the sky.
“I love the cold weather,” You sighed, speaking up once he was done with his impromptu kissing session. Your cheeks were flushed and your lips were slightly swollen.
“I thought you hated it,” He whispered, pulling you flush into his warmth.
“It’s a good excuse to cuddle you,” You mumbled.
“You don’t need an excuse. You’ll always have me.”
#the boyz imagines#the boyz reactions#the boyz fluff#tbz fluff#tbz imagines#the boyz x reader#tbz x reader#drabbles 💞#requests 💞#jacob bae x reader#jacob bae fluff
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Could I get the lords with a SO who has frog abilities? Basically they are a excellent swimmer, can hild their breath for an extremely long time, has night vision, long prehensile tounge, can jump extremely high and can secrete poison from their skin. They also eat bugs and gets super tired during winter Beacuse of hibernation!
Ooo why not!
Lords with frog hybrid s/o
Alcina Dimitrescu
Incredibly intrigued by your abilities
Expect to be bombarded with questions by her daughters
Is a bit weirded out by the poison you secrete but doesn't mention it
Luckily since you can jump really high you can jump onto the different balconies of her home
Donna Beneviento
She finds you super cool and definitely wants to make a doll based off of you
Her house doesn't have the best lighting so being able to see in the dark is a big plus for her
She's got a room full of blankets and pillows for when you hibernate
She hates pests and mosquitoes so since you eat the bugs she's super thankful
Salvatore Moreau
You two are perfect together
Since he lives at the reservoir you're always able to swim when you want to
You and him hang out underwater sometimes and Moreau feels a lot more comfortable underwater with you
He's super interested by the poison on your skin but is too nervous to ask how it works
Karl Heisenberg
Since his factory is really hot and dry he makes you a separate room with a little pond in jt so you're more comfortable
You never have a need to hibernate because his factory is always super warm
He's actually got a huge fly problem so when you eat the bugs you get a free Karl kiss
#re8 x reader#resident evil 8 x reader#alcina dimitriscu x reader#donna beneviento x reader#salvatore moreau x reader#karl heisenberg x reader
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Dead as Disco (Revivebur x Reader)
no proofreading, we die like men
people I’ve tagged: @poraphia, @witheredroseanon, @drop-of-void, @saccharinesunset
Synopsis: Some tough memories arise, so you help Wilbur out by sending Schlatt a final “fuck you”
—-
You had a long, complicated relationship with winter. First of all— it wasn’t summer! So you could rest easy in the wonderful absence of mosquitos and nasty, sweaty heat that prevented you from enjoying any potential scenery. On the other hand, it replaced your favorite season (Fall) and brought tidings of stuffy noses and dry skin.
And your boyfriend never liked the winter, either. Not after his revival. Too cold, too dark— and too quiet, save for when the wind would blow through the open landscape, sounding far too much like the whistle of an oncoming train.
You both avoided going outside during the winter, choosing to stay curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace— your head on his chest as he muttered about whatever was on his mind, rubbing circles into your scalp.
But it was unavoidable that you’d end up outside eventually. A good chunk of Wilbur’s family lived in the tundra region and you were bound to end up walking back home late at night, having decided not to inconvenience Phil and Techno any further.
(In truth, you just wanted to get home before the snowstorm that threatened to keep snowed in for the rest of the week—- and although the Syndicate members were lovely hosts, your anniversary was coming up and you wanted to at least spend it alone together).
“Shit weather.” Wilbur mumbled as you traversed the Prime Path. “Hasn’t even snowed yet.”
Wilbur kicks at the frosted ground for emphasis, adjusting his grip on your hand and pressing as close as he could without unbalancing you. You felt sufficiently warm in your sweater and jacket, save for the stinging sensation of the wind biting at your knuckles and nose, but Wilbur was still shivering.
“The frost isn’t that bad. At least it’s crunchy.” You hum.
“Eugh, there’s so many more terrains that make better crunching sounds than this.” He grumbled.
“..Such as?”
“Gravel, for one. Sand— when it’s spread sparsely enough. But technically beaches make crunching sounds too, it’s just— muffled. I guess.” He turned to you. “Why don’t we ever go to the beach?”
“Because last time we went, I couldn’t kiss you for a week without getting sand in my mouth.”
“That’s why you wouldn’t kiss me??” Wilbur exclaimed, looking scandalized. “Because you’d get a little sand in your mouth!”
“It’s disgusting!”
“It’s not!”
“Yes it is— it doesn’t leave your mouth, and then your going about your day and suddenly feel it crunchbetween your molars—“
“That’s the best part, the fuck are you talking about?”
“What—-“ you splutter, at a loss for words. “I can’t with you. I just can’t.”
“Ouch.” He pouted in mock offense. “You know darling, with how you treat me sometimes, one would think you…”
He trails off. You continue walking, staring at the frozen grass as you wait for him to continue. When he doesn’t, you look back up.
“Wilbur?”
Wilbur tears his eyes away from whatever he was looking at and glances back at you. “—Oh. Yeah. Nothing, we’re… lost my train of thought.”
You peer down into the darkness and spot an array of cobblestone and flags in the distance.
Oh. You had forgotten that it was visible from this route.
The banners on Schlatt’s grave, scrawled with graffiti from over the years, flapped silently in the wind.
It’s no wonder he had gone silent— especially with that incident the last time Tommy visited the Tundra.
“You ought to be careful around Quackity, Wilbur.” Philza and warned, sitting by the fire as Tommy raided his pantry for more honey bottles.
“Nah, he’s no threat.” Wilbur said, stretching his limbs. “He’s all bark, no bite. Sure, he acts all tough, but he’s just like his country. All style, no substance.”
You heard Tommy snort. “No bite? Dude literally ate Schlatt’s heart at his funeral.”
Wilbur choked. “He what?”
“Yeah, and I still have his lungs somewhere. Good times.” Tommy closed the pantry and began stuffing Phil’s belongings into his pockets.
“I sure hope you didn’t do that at my funeral.” Wilbur snorts. “…How was it, by the way?”
Tommy’s movements freeze, and you avert your eyes. “How was what, again? Sorry, I wasn’t listening. Anyway, the, um, honey—-“
“My funeral.” Wilbur repeated, smile faltering. “Was it— like— how was it?”
“We, um…” Tommy couldn’t look his brother in the eye. “It was a— wiggly time back then. There was so much going on, and—-“
“Oh.” Wilbur’s smile had completely disappeared.
“With—with— with rebuilding, and threats of further destruction—“
“Yeah.”
“We didn’t— we couldn’t—“
“Yeah. Okay.” Wilbur cleared his throat. “Okay. Alright! I get it.” He stood up, clapping his hands with a strained grin. “So! Phil, you said Technoblade was outside?”
“..Yeah.” Phil said. “He’s outside.”
Phil had barely the time to finish the sentence before Wilbur was gone, leaving a slamming door and a puff of frigid air in his wake.
Wilbur Soot, the silvertongued General, Founder, Brother, Father, Son, lover—- had never gotten a funeral.
Schlatt, on the other hand…
To everyone’s credit, Schlatt’s funeral had been more of a celebration, an opportunity for everyone he had wronged to spit, laugh, and dance on his grave.
Well. Almost everyone.
You glanced sideways at Wilbur, wondering if you should give it a shot.
“Hey.” You say and his head snaps to you. “Cmere.” You take his hand and gently pull him off the path, heading to the gravesite.
“Uh—“ Wilbur hesitates, clearly reluctant to approach the very object of his inner turmoil. “What are we doing?”
“Wait.” You scale the hill and pass by the worn benches, heading straight to where the marble tomb lay.
“Uh, [Name]?” He repeats, laughing a little incredulously. “I don’t really understand why we’re—-“
“Shush!” You march right up to the coffin— and with two definitive stomp, stomps— climb right on top. Swiveling on the spot, you turn and hold a hand out to a dumbfounded Wilbur. “Cmere.”
He lets you pull him up, awkwardly finding his footing on the rectangular lid. “Uh, alright. Why— woah!”
You tug him closer, guiding his hands to your waist and wrapping yours around the back of his neck.
Wilbur stares, and you stare back.
Your confidence begins to falter— crap, this was a dumb idea. “Um. I just— thought we could dance? Yknow.. here?”
“Dance.” He echoed, a light beginning to dawn in his eyes. A smile spreads across his face— a lovestruck, wobbly smile— and he steps closer, pulling you to his chest as he buries his face in your neck, suppressing a laugh. “..Alright.” He murmurs against your skin, grinning like an idiot.
“I know there’s no music, but—“
“It’s okay.” He says quietly, holding you close as you both sway to an inaudible tune.
You let yourself melt into it, reaching a hand up to idly pet the back of his neck, playing with his hair.
It’s less of a dance and more of a prolonged embrace since there isn’t much room for foot movement, but neither of you mind.
You tilt your head to press a kiss to the stretch of jaw just below his ear, feeling his lips twitch into another smile against the crook of your neck.
“I don’t deserve you.” He murmurs, so quiet it barely disturbs the silence around you.
“You deserve the world.” You say.
Wilbur lets out a puff of laughter, shaking his head against your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Mkay.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know. I’ll never understand, but I know.” He sighs, turning his head to rest his chin against your shoulder, staring out into the open fields behind you.
“You’re not a bad person.” You move a hand to scratch at his scalp and he hums contentedly. “You may not have been a good one. ..Although, admittedly, this server hasn’t been the most.. conducive to good morals. You’re a person though, a human being, and all this—-“ you squeeze him tighter, kissing his jaw, “—-you deserve.”
He’s silent for a while. You let him think, rubbing circles into his back and pretend you don’t hear the quiet sniffles he tries to choke down.
When Wilbur speaks again, his voice is steady, if not a little hoarse. “Do you, uh.. think I could be one?”
“A what? A good person, you mean?” You furrow your brow.
“Yeah. That.”
Wilbur has always had different views of humanity than you do. He presented the world like a stage, bustling with heroes and villains, characters predestined by fate. Life was a story, and they were in center stage, the protagonists of it all, following a script until met with triumph or tragedy. It’s with these grand, romanticized views of reality that Wilbur had managed to win over so many people. Everyone loves a good story, after all.
As a rigidly scientific mind, you never shared those sentiments. Humans were merely developed animals, that’s all. Each struggle would be lost and rendered meaningless to the sands of time, and so would the morals on which they stood.
“I think you could.” The night is getting colder and your feet are freezing, but neither of you are willing to leave this pocket of warmth you’ve created, heads tucked into necks and hands running through hair.
“But you don’t believe good and bad people, do you? You never did.” Wilbur said quietly.
“Maybe not. But I still think you could fit your definition of ‘good person’. You are kind. That’s a start.” You continue rubbing circles into his scalp, carefully twisting and combing the curls with your fingers.
Wilbur doesn’t respond. He only lifts his head, trailing his lips in a pathway from your shoulder to your jaw, up your cheek to rest against your forehead. He stays like that, eyes closed for one, two, three heartbeats before he pulls away to look you in the eye.
Wilbur’s ears, nose, and eyes are tinged red, the first two from the cold and the last from silently crying into your shoulder.
Both your hands and his cheek are frigid, but when you brush your thumb under his eye he leans into the touch anyway, not looking away from you for even a moment.
He only closes his eyes when you lean forward, pressing your lips to his.
It’s the collapsing of a star, pulled magnetically inwards, striving to be as close as physically possible. He’s cradling your face like it’s made of sugarglass and you treat him with equal gentleness, running a hand through his hair, mindlessly stepping backwards as he crowds your space, adjusting to get closer, closer because it’s still cold—-
You take one last step and suddenly there’s no more marble under your heel, and you pitch backwards, toppling off the tomb with a yelp. Wilbur follows suit, sprawling out on the grass next to you with grunt.
Within seconds, you’re both wheezing with laughter, pulling each other closer and leaning back to rest
After catching his breath, Wilbur speaks. “We should do this more often.”
You don’t miss the tinge of sadness in his voice, and suddenly become very aware about how distant this relationship has gotten. It’s not neglected, by any means, but you can’t remember the last time you did something like this.
(Actually, you can. The last time you danced like this was November 15th, 2020).
But you opt for a more lighthearted tone. “What? Dance on this grave more often?”
“No, no— I mean yes, I’d love to make this our designated date spot— yknow?” He looks over at you with a sly grin.
“Mm-hm. Maybe bring some music next time.” You smile back.
“And a few blankets. Maybe some wine.” Wilbur leans a bit closer.
“Picnic?” You whisper.
“Definitely.” He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours. “But.. also in general. We could… have more dates, in general. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah. It has.” You murmur, closing your eyes as well. “…So, next Friday?”
You feel him laugh softly. “Yeah! Yeah, next Friday sounds great.”
Unable to help yourself, you cup his cheek and pull him into a kiss. It’s a lot softer than the last kiss, lips lingering together as you both pull apart to breathe.
“…I hope Schlatt’s fuming in hell right now.” Wilbur says quietly, eyes still closed and lips still close.
“I bet he is.”
#dsmp wilbur#revived wilbur#c wilbur#c: wlbr#revivebur#wilbur soot x reader#dsmp x reader#revivedbur x reader#c!wilbur#wilbur soot angst#wilbur soot fluff#wilbur soot x you#wilbur soot x y/n#eilbir slot x redetvr#sweaty “writes”#i abuse the em-dash two: electric boogaloo
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Their Thoughts on Winter
(Demons can go out in the daytime/sunlight here)
Kokushibou
+ It isn't his preferred temperature, but he can tolerate it
+ He doesn't want to show weakness, so he won't complain
+ He gets a little calmer when it gets dark earlier -- the less sun reminds him less that he can't do Sun Breathing
+ He likes to cuddle up at night with his s/o, and colder weather is good for that
+ But still, he doesn't like feeling cold when he's outside
+ His long, luscious hair helps keep him warm
+ He tries not to let the season change ruin his vibe
+ The cold air does dry out his eyes some, so he needs some eye drops for that
Muzan
+ He likes it -- it keeps the riff-raff away
+ He's relieved when there are less crazy summer people on the streets
+ Everyone gets paler in the winter, so his own skin colour is less evident than in warmer months
+ He does get very angry that the sun isn't out as long
+ He wishes it could be colder but with long hours of sun
+ His little experiments aren't as productive as in the summer because he's always gritting his teeth about how it gets dark so fast
+ His patience wears thin easier and he kills more humans during the winter
+ If you're Douma or Gyokko, you probably get your body slashed in half more often during the winter
Douma
+ This one gets seasonal depression
+ He hates having to wear a coat or layers
+ He hates having to wear a hat to cover up that gorgeous hair of his
+ He complains a lot
+ He says that his bubbly personality needs the sun to give him energy
+ Because he gets depressed, he requires more intimacy with his s/o to get through the winter
+ The only joy he finds in the cold is working on ice sculptures
+ Still, the quality of the natural snow and ice is subpar compared to what he can create during any season
Gyutaro
+ His first words are "fuck, man" whenever he walks outside
+ He's bundled up in so many layers but it's not enough for his skinny ass
+ He can see his breath in the air before anyone else does
+ Sometimes he pulls down his hat so far that it's almost covering his eyes
+ He doesn't understand how or why Daki is still not covering up and wearing skimpy clothes in this weather
+ His skin gets paler and it makes his birthmarks more evident
+ He gets bad dry skin in the winter too
+ Someone give him moisturiser and force him to use it, please
Tahomaru
+ He wants to build snowmen and play in the snow but he always gets sick when he does
+ "Already?" he asks every day when it gets dark early
+ He's pretty tolerant to the cold
+ He likes having warm drinks and soups
+ If his s/o or best friend gets depressed in the winter, he'll feel bad and try to cheer them up
+ He would make candlelight hand-puppet shows
+ He loves to cuddle under blankets
+ He likes that he doesn't get as sweaty but wishes that the winter wouldn't last as long as it doesn
Daigo Kagemitsu
+ He hates winter even more than I do
+ He gets really cranky and angry when there's less sunlight
+ It reminds him of when it used to flood all the time and he gets anxiety from it
+ He's very sensitive to the cold but won't tell anyone
+ He looks like he wants to burn down the world whenever he has to walk in snow
+ He has a hard time waking up in the morning knowing that it's going to be grey and cold
+ This man really needs sunshine and he's struggling
Saburota
+ He's invincible to the cold
+ But he's very sensitive to being wet
+ He's fine, as long as there's no dampness or freezing rain or snow
+ He gets sick when there's snow
+ He uses the cold weather as an excuse to cook more and experiment with food
+ He uses the oven a lot so he can leave it open and let the warm air come into the house
+ He gets tired when it gets dark early
#random headcanons#I hate fucking winter so I need some of my favourite characters to validate me#kokushibo#kokushibou#muzan#gyutaro#douma#tahomaru#daigo kagemitsu#saburota#dororo headcanons#demon slayer headcanons
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So I got asked a few times if people can do archaeology with sensitive skin/skin issues. Let’s see!
I’m an archaeologist. That means I do heavy labor outdoors in all seasons. I have struggled with acne for the past 12 years… I’m 24. I also have a mast cell deficiency (skin allergies to basically anything and myself) caused by the aggressive medication I took to get my acne under control and I have very dry and sensitive skin. So how do I manage?
Always wear sunscreen! It doesn’t get absorbed into the skin, it sits on top. So don’t worry about what it does to you. It’s a protective outside layer. Make sure it isn’t expired!
Apply sunscreen before you start working, not during work. It might already be too late.
See a dermatologist once a year because of your exposure to the elements
Use baby wipes instead of cleaning wipes for your hands. If it’s safe for babies it’s safe for you.
Moisturize your hands! Yes you may rub the dirt on your hands everywhere, but only the moisturizer gets absorbed.
Use a sunscreen chapstick or any kind of chapstick all day long!
Do not open blisters! Yes they hurt and are uncomfortable, but cover them up extra. Use bandaids, gloves on top and moisturize at night. It will harden and heal faster. Open blisters contract dirt and will hurt longer
Wash your face during lunch. Keep a travel size of your face wash. This washes the dirt and sweat from scarfs in winter and summer away and prevents (helmet) acne
Moisturize your legs! Don’t know why they dry out this much but you’ll thank me later.
Do not just wear a cap. Wear an all around sun hat. Like a bucket hat with a wide brim. Your ears can get burned. Your neck needs protection too.
Do not slack on your facial skin care! Clean well! Moisturize!
Do not forget to apply sunscreen on the back of your hands! This will be the first place you’ll notice sun spots
If it’s truly heatwave hot and you’re in constant sun, wear light textured and light colored clothes if possible. Wear shirts with long sleeves and do not wear shorts. It sounds like you’ll be too hot, but light colors reflect the sun/heat and the UV rays will not get to your skin to do their damage. Also the fabric will absorb your sweat, making you feel more comfortable. Go to a sports outlet and choose walking gear as work gear. I.e. sweat absorbing outdoor clothes.
#archaeologist#archaeology#field work#outdoor work#history#geology#geography#anthropology#physical anthropology#indiana jones#skin care#archaeology skin care
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hi! I'd love to read more about your boarding school AU! only if you have something in mind of course.
safe travel! <3
Love you anon, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I hadn't written anything for a while, but here's a fic I just wrote in my notes app for you. It's Bezz/cele mostly. Kiss kiss hope you enjoy even though it's whatever! 💗💗
---
Pecco shows up a little late at dinnertime and delivers the news as he pulls a chair next to Franky.
"Apparently it's picture day tomorrow for the team, around 11." Pecco announces as he pours himself a glass of water.
"Why are they rushing it?" Bezz asks from where he's sitting next to Cele.
"They want to get it done before the principal travels for his guest lectures and we leave for the regionals" Luca responds on Pecco's behalf who nods in his direction.
"What are we expected to wear?" Franky inquires.
"The whole shebang. Suit and tie and winter trousers." Pecco's response immediately makes Franky and Bezz groan in protest.
"I don't even have a pressed shirt." Luca remarks.
"You can borrow one of mine." Pecco tells him.
---
After dinner Bezz accompanies Cele to the infirmary to get his bandages changed. Cele had cut his palm open in a lab mishap. The nurses had stitched it up fine, but recovery was chugging along. Bezz has been helping him since then, always coming to see him after classes, and sitting next to him during meals to ensure he ate.
On the walk back to the residences, Cele quickly makes a mental checklist of whether he has his full uniform ready for tomorrow.
"Why are you so quiet?" Bezz asks him as they cut through the lawns in the dark.
"Thinking about where my clothes are."
"I'll help you find them."
"No that's fine Marco. I'm just worried about washing my hair."
"Because of your hand?" Bezz asks.
"Yes. Bathing is already difficult"
"I could.... I could help." Bezz speaks after a moment, an edge to his voice.
"Okay, thank you." Cele nods in response to Bezz's offer.
---
Bezz and Cele are the only two people in the the dorm bathrooms at this hour. The halogen lights makes a buzzing noise as they stand there confused.
"Right, umm, how do we do this." Bezz asks to no one in particular.
"The sinks seem fine. I'll bend over." Cele responds, not quite sure of himself.
"Alright yeah. Wait." Bezz says as he wraps a small plastic bag around Cele's bandaged hand to keep it dry.
Cele lets Bezz securely tie the bag around his wrist and bends himself so his neck and face hand into the sink.
Bezz accidentally turns the tap on full speed, soaking the collar and back of Cele's t shirt.
"Fuck shit" he remarks as he quickly shuts off the water.
"Cele I think it would be better if you took your t shirt off." Bezz tells him.
Cele stands up straight and struggles to get his wet tshirt off with one hand. Bezz immediately closes the gap between them and grabs the bottom of his tshirt and gently tugs it upwards. He looks at the broad expanse of his pale body, the veins under his skin looking blue under the harsh lights. Bezz gulps as he frees Cele's head from the collar of the fabric, taking extra care to gently loop it out of his injured hand. Cele's familiar body looked alien to him at this odd hour in these odd circumstances.
Cele bends over once again and sticks his neck into the sink. Bezz manoeuvres the tap better this time. Cele feels warm water on the nape of his neck. It flows down his scalp in little rivulets that makes him feel like he's getting goosebumps. Bezz gently eases his fingers into his hair. The dull ends of his fingers on the skin behind his ears. Cele can't describe the feeling. It feels pleasantly relaxing, but also like being on a rollercoaster when it's dropping down. Bezz squeezes some shampoo into his hair and quickly massages it into a lather. Bezz's fingers snag on his tangled curls as he cleans him. The pinching, sharp sensation on his scalp feels like it's running down Cele's shoulder and making his stomach feel like it's in freefall. Bezz rinses him and takes the care to clean the foam around his ears. Afterwards, he uses a towel to gently dry him off and drops him off to his dorms.
---
Cele runs to the lawns to make it in time for the picture. Pecco and Luca are there, waiting for another group to get done before they assemble. Luca looks at Cele and tells him to fix his collar, Pecco smiles and reaches over to fix it for him. When they finally line up, Bezz comes over to stand next to Cele, and ruffles his curls before the picture is taken.
#I'm thinking too much about innocent seeming touches that betray an undercurrent of a far deeper desire these days#you need to be so hungry for your lover that even something as simple as touching their arm is charged like mainline#having your hair groomed by a lover is topppp tier experience#also in adolescent environments care is a legitimate form of deep love#I was always surrounded by these little tokens of love#someone making sure you have your favourite snacks to eat your assignments are finished and submitted your hair is looking nice#anyway I didn't edit this but I still hope it's fun#cele and bezz are literally so cute to write about the love is literally there#boarding school au#cele/bezz#bezz/cele#bezz x cele#pecco/luca#but only one sprinkle of them lol#motogp#motogp rpf#celestino vietti#marco bezzecchi#cele#bezz
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The first meeting | Caroline Graham Hansen
AN: No trigger warning. You are a girl from Norway, Benedicte. I had to chose a random Norwegian name. This will be a storyline in forms of imagines, so I recommend reading chronologically.
I was fresh out of University, and for sure done with anything related to lectures, studying and assignments. I grew up in this silly little Norwegian town, Tromsø. You know, a place where you can see the northern lights, reindeers and polar bears! Well, the latter is not entirely true. It is just a dead polar bear stuffed for tourists to see and take pictures of. Regardless, I grew up here with my grandparents. My father left when I was a baby, and my mother? I went no contact a few years ago as she put me through a lifetime of trauma. That is exactly why I decided that when I was finished with my bachelors degree in sports leadership, I needed to get out of this sad little town. It is always cold, and we have winter for 9 months a year. Three of them are in complete dqrkness, no sun or no daylight. It’s just as bad as it sounds. That’s why I applied for jobs pretty much anywhere but here. Towns like Oslo, London, Australia (hello Sam Kerr) and even the us. I however ended up getting a job offer from the women’s department in the club known as Barcelona. It was just what I needed; Sun, beaches and Spanish women.
I decided to go to Barcelona a week early, I had to take advantage of checking out the city and the nightlife! Barcelona had arranged this beautiful apartment for me downtown. It was a decent sized apartment in a new building with spectacular views from my bedroom window in the 23rd floor. I have never seen anything like this as I grew up very poor, and only lived in an apartment with my grandparents. I spent the first week checking out bars, restaurants and beaches. I also found a huge mall with all of my favourite stores! Naturally, I had to purchase new clothes as I was told that there would be an athletic dress code. Lululemon for the win!
I didn’t really meet a lot of hot Spanish women during my first week, but I made a few friends in the building. One of my closest neighbours, Ingrid Engen lived two doors away from me. I recognised her from a talent camp for 13 year olds in Norway. And somehow she recognised me! We had spent the first week getting to know each other, and when she found out I was going to be working for Barcelona; she was beyond excited. We clicked naturally, and we went out to all her favourite bars, restaurants and shops. She really gave me the full experience!
Fast forward to today, Monday morning. The first of August. At 5.30. Let’s just say that I regretted the last bottle of wine from last night. But today was the day! The day were I finally start my first “big girl job” and you bet I was feeling excited. I got my tired body out of bed and opened up the blinds in my apartment. The views just took my breath away. It was stunning! A beautiful sunrise with the most beautiful colors that I’ve ever seen. I made myself a black coffee, and wrapped my robe around me so i could sit outside on my private balcony. It felt relaxing. The air was crisp, I could hear the ocean and I could smell the salty beach. It was like a dream come true.
My daydreaming soon became interrupted as I knocked myself intro reality. First day of my first job, right. I quickly made it to the bathroom and had a steaming shower. The smells of my floral soap felt like a full on aroma therapy session. I quickly got out of the shower and patted myself dry. My blonde long hair dried and put in a half up half down bun and I did light makeup as my skin was tanned from the week in the sun. I always used some mascara, it really made my icy blue eyes pop. I got dressed up in what I was asked to wear; Black athletic shorts, a black tank top, my trusty black hokas and a hot pink lululemon jacket. It felt wrong, but my new boss had insured me that any athletic wear was good. I grabbed my bag and took a deep breath. I took a look in the mirror, and I added some fruity chapstick. This was going to be the first day of the rest of my life.
*fast forward to being with your boss*
“Ah, and this office is where you will be working from! Feel free to decorate however you like.” The Spanish woman said. I nodded and listened as active as I could. “Here is your work phone, your laptop and your camera. If there is anything you need, you let me know.” she said as she handed me what looked like a tower of apple and canon products. I was stunned. “Wow, this is amazing, thank you so much! I’m so excited to get to know the team, and I’m eager to get to work.” I replied as I sat down my new work gear and followed the tall woman as she talked enthusiastically about Barcelona and their work culture.
*Caroline POV*
Jonathan was going on, and on and on and on about what this season was gonna look like. I was tying up my white Nike cleats, they were brand new as the team wanted us to start fresh. I however, hated fresh and new and change. I liked stability, routine and same old. Why change something that isn’t broken?
The door to the hallway suddenly swung open. There was the head of staff, Maria. She was always so bright and shiny and talkative. Not really my way of life. “Ah, Maria, just in time!” Jonathan called out. “Come, come!” He urged and a blonde petite woman popped up from behind Maria. “This, ladies, this is Benedicte. She is one of the new assistant coaches, and she will be primarily working with the wingers. With her, we will be unstoppable!” Jonathan said enthusiastically. The girl blushed, and smiled. “Hi squad, Im looking forward to kicking your asses on a daily basis” she said with a cheeky grin. I was staring at her as I couldn’t remember why she seemed so familiar. “Caro, stop staring!” Mapi hissed at me. I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t staring” I hushed, but with no luck as the team was already making their way onto the pitch.
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