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the-kr8tor · 5 months ago

Note

May I have Bitter Orange in a ⭐ bottle please? The start of R and Hobie being handcuffed together before they turned, with R succumbing to the effects of the virus much faster than Hobie due to his spiderpowers, so for a bit he just watches his love become a husk of who they were before he too is a zombie?

*laughs evily* Yessss I've been waiting for a request exactly like this hwjsjwijsjaj hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2k (whoops)

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), description of illness, TW blood, CW injury, TW death, zombie AU, Zombie apocalypse AU. Angst, Hurt/comfort

A prequel to this one shot

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The air is nice and cool on your face as you walk hand in hand with Hobie in the barren street. There's rows upon rows of abandoned houses, all in different stages of decay from both scavengers trying to survive and time itself proving to be the worst enemy. But it's on your side for now for it has given you infinite time to be with him.

Hobie's hand is suddenly on your scarf, fingers gingerly sliding the fuzzy material up to your chin. He smiles at you, the sun blindingly light behind him. Despite the apocalypse, he still looks just as handsome. He has new shallow scars on his chin where a stubble is slowly growing, hair a bit of a mess but beautiful nonetheless. You've once told him after a lucky find of one whole pound of chocolate pudding that he's apocalypse chic, that he makes the end of the world look good. To which he laughed and shoved a spoonful of chocolate pudding in your mouth. Compared to him you probably look like a mess, you wouldn't know, you've ignored mirrors ever since you ran out of shampoo a few days ago.

“What are you thinkin' ‘bout, gorgeous?” He tugs you closer to him, the crowbar hanging from his backpack clinks against the machete next to it.

“That I really need shampoo, and that you look unfairly handsome in this light.”

Chuckling, he intertwined his fingers around your own. It could mean death for the both of you if the undead suddenly lunges and he doesn't have enough time to take his hand away from you. But he thinks it's alright for him to do, to indulge himself to your touch since the entire place is empty save for a few dead cars and scattered luggages left by people.

“You should see yourself in my eyes, lovie, the greasy hair is doin' a lot for me.”

“Oh yeah? You like it when you pat my head and you get petrol on your hand?”

“We need petrol, d’you think if I bunch up your hair and squeeze it I can collect the oil?”

You nudge him playfully, “you're an ass.”

“Yeah, well, you're stuck with this arse.”

Your mind goes back to your friends and family you've left behind. “Do you think they're okay?”

“'m sure they are, Yuri's got them, and they have Ned, he'll whip them into shape. ‘sides, we're almost at James’, if I was them I'd stay there.” He adjusts his hold on his pack and guitar. “We'll find them.”

You smile, nuzzling his bicep for his own reassurance, knowing that he also worries for them. “You're right. They're probably doing better than us.”

“Yeah,” he pecks the crown of your head. “They're living like kings, I bet.”

You two stop in front of a large house, complete with white marble steps and tall roman columns. “James' dad never had taste, huh?”

Hobie snorts, “his son took all of it. C’mon, then.” He leads you on the porch, trying the door, wishing that it was locked because if it is it means that someone's inside, that they're surviving and waiting for the two of you. To his despair, the door opens without a problem.

Hobie looks back at you having the same expression. “It's okay,” you try to be optimistic, “maybe they left a message for us.”

He nods, “yeah, maybe.” Crossing the abandoned space, he takes his guitar from his back to strum a tune. When he doesn't hear stumbling or any rattling from anywhere inside the house, he continues forward, but his guard is still up. “We might as well get some supplies while we're ‘ere.”

“Yeah, there might be some left in here.” You give him a small smile. “How about we split up? This place is too big, it'll take us forever to comb over this place.”

Hobie considers it for a moment. The place seems pristine except for the furniture and cabinets that are picked clean, so he deems it safe. “Okay, just…” you walk to his side, rubbing his arms, smiling sweetly at him even though he probably doesn't smell the best. “...keep your knife close.”

“I will keep my knife close,” you repeat his words, “and I'll stay alert.” Poking at his chest, you peck the frown off his lips. “And you keep safe.”

He's still apprehensive, but he knows you can hold your own. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you fully, smooching until you're giggling. “We’ll meet back ‘ere in fifteen.”

“Aye, aye, Cap'n!” You mock salute. “Any special requests?”

“Chocolates.”

“I said a request, not wishful thinking.” You tease, he has an urge to kiss you again.

“Towels, the nice fluffy ones.” You slide your hands away from him, to which he already longs for.

“Got it! I bet James has a ton of them.” You wink, knife in hand, walking away from him.

Hobie watches your retreating back, tamping down his anxieties. He searches upstairs, grinning at James' familiar room. His posters and messy floors remain untouched, the bed still looking like it was tossed around by a tornado. He almost cries at the picture frame on the bedside table containing his band's smiling faces plus you who's embracing him.

Turning the frame around, he takes the picture and pockets it to show to you. After rummaging James' room, he takes a few shirts and pants for him and you. He even finds a pair of silk pajamas that he knows you'll love. A piercing scream echoes around the house, he immediately bolts downstairs, heavy footsteps thudding across marble floors.

You're on your back, fighting for your life while the undead on top of you tried to get a chunk out of you. It all stops when Hobie's guitar connects to the corpse's skull in a sickening crunch of metal and bone.

You scramble away, neck and arm in pain. Hobie's wide eyes meet yours just as when the back door bursts open, revealing a whole horde of the undead. Panicking, he yanks you up, holding your hand, running outside to more of the shambling dead.

“Fuck!”

“Hobie!”

“Just hold on!” His hand is tight around yours, you try to run at his pace, panic in your veins, adrenaline in his.

It feels like you've been running forever, Hobie sees an opening hidden in an alley. He can climb on his own without a ladder but you can't. So he leads you towards the empty alley while the rotten, decayed corpses of once human beings run after you at full speed.

Hobie jumps to take down an emergency ladder, without missing a beat, he grabs your waist and throws you on the ladder. You climb, but the pain in your arm gets worse so you're slower but you still try for him.

The undead finally gets to the alley, you don't dare to look down. Once you're on the rooftop, you peek below to see him struggling to get up the ladder, he's halfway with a handful of zombies dangling on his leg.

You scream his name but it's too late, one of the undead has bitten a chunk of his leg as he tries to kick the former human off the ladder where he's desperately trying to climb to. You wish he didn't run out of web fluid, you wish the world didn't end, you wish the throbbing pain on your arm is just muscle spasm, but the warm crimson seeping out of teeth marks says differently.

With a sickly crunch, the zombie falls down the ladder and into the rotten horde. Hobie climbs up quickly back to you, hands immediately grasping on to you.

“Did it get you?!” You yell, still in denial, frantically checking in hopes that his boot saved him. Your heart falls into your stomach at the sight of broken skin, blood staining your fingers where you hold the hem of his trousers away to get a better look. You're frozen on the spot, tears clinging to your lashes. “Hobie,” you gasp, taking off your scarf to make a makeshift tourniquet around and above the bite. “Fuck—!”

“You okay?!” He does the same to you, heaving, ripping off your sleeves like a madman trying to find the secrets hidden in your skin. He prays that he finds none. His eyes widen, terrified, broken hearted, shaking his head, refusing the fact that you're infected. “No,” he shakes his head again, closing the torn up cloth around the slowly rotting wound. “It's just a scratch, love, y-you’re not—”

“Hobie…” you smile bitterly, eyes mirroring his own. He rips the hem of his shirt, using the cloth to wrap it around your arm, just above the wound in an attempt to stop the spread. He ignores the stinging pain on his leg. “Hobie, stop, it's—”

“We can still stop it!” He yells desperately, tying the cloth tightly. “It's just a scratch.”

“Hobie, please.” You hold his trembling hands, “it has been ten minutes.” He refuses, you squeeze his hand weakly, the virus already taking hold. Slowly killing you. “And—” with trembling hands, you show him the gaping bite on your neck, oozing dark decaying blood. He choked on a sob. “B-but there's a chance for you, your abilities might've made you immune—”

“No, if you're goin’, ‘m goin’” He stands up, not giving up on you. “There's a chemist’s ‘ere, maybe if w-we…” he puts on a brave face amidst the impending doom and rotten flesh that stings his nose. “Maybe there's somethin’ there.” Hand reaching down, you smile up at him, orange and pink hues from the sky dancing around your face. “C-can you get up?” His voice breaks, chest heaving. “I can carry you. Don't make me carry you, love.”

You slide your hand onto his own. “Hobie,” your voice is soft above the mindless groaning below. His eyes beg you to move. So you do. “Okay,” with a single word, you bring him hope.

With divided effort, you both make it towards the roof of the pharmacy. He was uncharacteristically silent the whole way, but his hand never left yours. His eyes never met with your wounds that's slowly festering. You feel it inside you, the fever, the virus that's eating at you, spreading throughout your body, gnawing at every bit of your warmth like a seed taking root. Hobie feels it too, he's terrified that you're experiencing it too. It's his worst fears came to life only because he wasn't fast enough.

Opening the creaky door, he hopes that it's devoid of the undead. Like he's not on the brink of eating flesh, he does his usual prep. He strums his guitar softly to attract any walking corpses waiting behind doors, when none comes out, he cracks the door wider. With his torch, he lights up the way. But he doesn't feel your presence behind him.

Looking over his shoulder was a mistake, he finds you hunched over the doorway, groaning quietly, nails clawing at the throbbing wound around your neck. That's the moment he knew that you'd go out before him. For the first time, he curses his gifts.

Slowly, he crosses the distance towards you, shaking hands grasping your shoulders. You're warm, incredibly warm. “Love?” He could cry, but he doesn't want you to see his sorrow.

You sniff, tears streaming down your face from the pain and the tragedy of it all. You've accepted that you were infected, but not him, you'd take the virus from him too if you could. “I'm s-sorry, so fucking sorry. I should've—”

“Oi, none of that, yeah? You're gonna be fine.” He says it to convince himself. “You'll be back on your feet tomorrow and by then we'll see Yuri and the others.” Nodding, he takes you by your arm, careful of making your wounds worse. There's blood sticking to his clothes, seeping through his clammy skin. He hates the fact that it was yours. Bringing you behind the counter, you almost keep over. “I've got you, I've got you.” He says it against your temple like a prayer.

“H-Hobie.” You sob, salty tears marring your pretty face. “I can't— it hurts.” The gnawing feeling gets worse, as if a chainsaw is ripping you apart from the inside. “It's so hot, I–I can't breathe.”

“O-okay, I'll set you down ‘ere, get you comfortable. There's some fever meds over there. It'll help.” His hazel eyes pleads for anyone, anything that'll help you. He helps you sit down, and you immediately lie down on the cold tiles. “Do you want a blanket?”

“N-no,” you're hot and cold at the same time. “I don't know.” You look up at him, he sees the light in your eyes fading. “I don't feel so good, Hobs.”

Hobie could only look away from you, inhaling, exhaling but it doesn't feel like he's breathing right. He kneels down, setting his guitar next to you, palm placed on your forehead. “This is nothing, love.” He tries to smile, but fails. “Remember when you had the flu?” You nod weakly, “you were a fuckin' beast, you beat it on your own in just a few days.”

Even though you feel your heartbeat going faster and then slowing down in a weird rhythm like a heartbeat monitor going haywire, you smile for him. “I was, wasn't I?”

He rubs your bicep, under his touch, he feels your muscle twitch. “Yeah, you still are.”

You chuckle softly, tears sliding down your cheeks and into the cold tiles. “Okay, get me the meds.”

“That's my girl,” laying his forehead atop yours, he hopes that he'll take your pain away with the simple gesture, but it's futile. “I'll be back, I promise.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

Smiling, he squeezes your arm. “Never.” Standing up, he rummages through the entire place for the pills you need. Crouching down to check under the broken shelves, climbing up on the walls to get a bird's eye view, and all the while ignoring his own pain. It's slim pickings, but he manages to find a single bottle of tylenol that has rolled under a shelf, it's not enough, but it'll do.

With a victorious sigh, he quickly makes it to the counter, rounding the corner, he sees you wheezing, catching your breath and with blood leaking out from your eyes and ears. “No, no, no!” He takes you in his arms, making you sit up. “I've got the meds, love. Oi, open your eyes for me.” You crack one eye open tiredly. “That's it, good job.” He almost cries when you smile at him through the thick fog of illness.

“G-good job,” you murmur, he doesn't know if you're delirious or you're congratulating him for finding the medicine.

“Bottoms up.” He brings two pills to your mouth, to which you gladly take. Giving you his canteen, you drink most of it, downing the tepid water. “That's good, see, you're already gettin' better.”

You shake your head weakly, barely opening your eyes. “Thanks to you, Hobie.”

“Yeah, thanks to me.” He tries to joke but it comes out choked when blood still leaks out of your tear ducts. Sitting next to you, he now feels his temperature rise so he takes the same amount of pills as you.

You lay your head on his shoulder, hand shakily reaching towards his own. “I'm sorry.”

He almost breaks down at your apology. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.” Meeting your hand halfway, he intertwined his fingers with yours, you're cold now, frozen under his hold. “D’you want that blanket now?”

“Please,” you wheeze out.

Hobie obliges, taking a thick blanket from his pack and then draping it around you as if it'll protect you from the infection. “There, nice and cozy, eh?”

“Thank you,” he feels your crimson fall down on his collar. “For everything.”

“None of that, Y/N, please. None of that.”

“I still want to talk to you.” Your voice is soft and small. “I still want to stay with you.”

Hobie brings your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. “And we will be, after this—” a sob escapes from him. “After this, we'll be together, yeah? Just like how we talked about.”

“Forever and ever?”

His tears flow freely, “yeah, forever and ever.” After a beat of silence, he fears the worst. “Love?”

You cough, he sighs in relief. “Still here, Hobs, not leaving yet.”

“Not yet,” embracing you, he lays his chin atop your head, you're made comfortable in his hold. Home, you feel like you're back home in his houseboat, watching a shitty romcom while he rambles on about his patrol. You want to be back there again. He wants to be back there again. “Can I say somethin'?”

You hum into his chest, squeezing his hand tighter but your sickness, he barely felt it.

“I don't want to…” he could barely say it. “I don't want to kill you. ‘m sorry, I know we talked about it—”

You lean up, he's met with milky eyes, he knows you can barely see him now. “Then don't, I don't want you to—” you pause, clinging to humanity. “— to feel that before you go.”

Nodding, he kisses your forehead, crying, weeping into your skin. “I couldn't save you, ‘m so fuckin' sorry, love, ‘m so sorry.” He shakes, you gather enough strength to embrace him and bury yourself in his chest, letting his scent waft around you for comfort.

“Don't apologize, nothin' to apologize for.”

He sniffs, peppering your face with heavy weakened kisses. “Oi, don't use my own words against me.”

You smile against the rough leather of his jacket. “Can I say something?”

“Go,” he can practically see the countdown. “We have all the time in the world, love.” There's something warm leaking out of his eyes and ears. He's catching up to you.

You'd laugh but you can feel your life slipping through your fingers. “When we turn, I don't want us to be separated.”

“What do you propose?” He tries to inhale but he could only let out a sickening cough.

“Tie our hands together…really tight.” Your words fade away, but you still hold on.

“I've got rope here, I can do it now.”

“But I'll turn first, Hobie, I-I might—”

“It'll be my honour to be your first meal.”

“I'd laugh if we weren't dying right now.” Eyes too tired to open, you feel the rough rope around your wrist, and the unmistakable sound of a knot getting tied. You smile for the last time when you feel his fingers wrap around your own. “I love you.”

“How's that? Too tight?” He whispers close, he feels you slipping away, “Y/N? Love?” he breaks down when your hand falls limp around his own. “Not yet, please, not yet.” He holds you, rocking you back and forth like a babe needing to be held. Your heart doesn't beat in sync with his anymore. “C’mon, not yet, we still have to find the rest of the band, right?” His eyes cloud over, cold taking root inside his entire body. “Say somethin’, fuck!” He yells with all his might, “I love you, fuck, please wake up.”

Closing his eyes, he wraps you in what's left of his warmth. “Don't go, please.” Hobie pleads and cries until he can no longer breathe the same air as you. His last thoughts were of you.

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jamdoughnutmagician · 2 months ago

Text

Secrets Out (fluff)

Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Set in the A Cut Above The Rest universe, and kind of follows on from the little fic I wrote a few weeks back. I just love these two and I really like writing little snippits of their life after the fic? idk?

Word Count:1, 772

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

“I can’t believe that that’s our baby.” Eddie said, as he looked at the small black and white photograph that you were holding in your hands. “Like that’s inside you right now.”

You were sitting comfortably beside Eddie in his van after coming back from your very first scan. After finding out you were pregnant, the both of you couldn’t have been more thrilled, and the trip to the hospital had been filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

You watched as his big brown eyes shined with bubbling tears threatening to spill over his lashes as looked down on the photo with a soft smile.

“Aw, Teddie, you're getting emotional about this, huh?” You said softly as you rubbed a hand up and down his arm.

“It's not that. It's just… I don't even know what I meant to be looking at.” he chuckled slightly, wiping away his tears. “Like I know it's a baby, but it just looks like a gray blob!”

“Oh, Teddie! It's okay! It won't look like much right now, our baby is still really small.” You reassured him. “The doctor said everything looks perfectly healthy! That's a good thing! Our little baby's going to have those strong Munson genes.”

“They're going to end up with my big ‘ol schnozz aren't they?”

Leaning in, you press a kiss against his cheek.

“So who do you want to tell first?” you asked Eddie as he plopped down next to you on the sofa, his hair still slightly wet after his shower and vaguely smelling of your coconut shampoo.

“I'm counting on it.”

You and Eddie had discussed it beforehand, and now you were at a safe point in your pregnancy where you felt comfortable telling people the exciting news.

“I was thinking that I wanna tell Wayne first. It’s his birthday next week and I wanna surprise him with the news!”

“I love that idea! You know he’s going to be so excited to hear he’s going to be a pop-pop. He'd always joked to me about wanting grand-kids.”

“And have you had any thoughts about who you’d want as godparents?” You and Eddie had also discussed the idea of having your child have godparents. God forbid that anything happen to either you or Eddie, but you wanted someone who would be able to look after your little one if anything were to happen.

“Well, I know who I want it to be.” Eddie replied confidently.

“..And I know who I want it to be too. Do you wanna say it on the count of three?”

One. Two. Three.

“Robin and Steve.” you both said simultaneously.

“Well, that’s that solved.” he chuckled to himself.

You and Eddie arrive at Wayne’s place nice and early, with his favourite dinner that you’d promised you’d make for him tucked under your arm in a glass dish, a lasagna made for sharing, and Eddie carrying a bottle of wine for him and his uncle to share.

You and Eddie had spent time in Wayne's place enough for it to feel like a second home, but now with this big secret you were harbouring, suddenly the air felt different as you stepped over the threshold of the house.

And with the dinner eaten and cleared away, and wine glasses emptied (and thankfully your refusal of said wine went without so much as an graying eyebrow raise from Wayne)

“Thanks for making dinner, darlin’” Wayne thanks in his gruff southern drawl. “But you kids didn't have to come down to spend your day with an old man like me.”

“Of course we did! We couldn't let your birthday go un-celebrated, uncle.”

Eddie says.

“Boy, when you get to be as old as I am, birthday's ain't much to be celebrating besides waking up another day and not being dead.”

“Oh, so you don't want the presents we got for you then?” You ask with a teasing tone in your voice.

“Now, I didn't say that..” Wayne grumbles despite the slight smile curving at his lips.

You reach for the small gift bag that you had brought along with you, placing it on the table in front of Wayne.

“Just a little surprise for you, Uncle.” Eddie says. “It’s from both of us, we hope you like it.”

You and Eddie watch Wayne open up his present with bated breath. Waiting for the big secret to come out. The ruffles of tissue paper are pulled from the bag as Wayne pulls out his present. A new, very special mug to add to his ever growing collection.

“World’s best grandpa? Boy, I know I’m old, but I ain’t that old yet.” he jokes, looking over to Eddie.

“Actually, Wayne, I think you better look inside that card too.” Eddie prompts, nodding his head towards the bag where the envelope is.

Wayne reaches for the envelope that is tucked away in the bag before opening it up to see the front of the card.

A standard ‘Happy birthday Grandpa!’ card, with a birthday cake and candles on the front.

You and Eddie exchanged a quick glance and shy smiles, realising that Wayne still hadn't quite got the message you were putting across. However, it all came together as he opened his card.

‘Happy Birthday Grandpa Wayne, I can't wait to meet you!’ Written above a picture of your ultrasound that you had taped inside the card.

“Wait..You’re…Is this real right now? You’re not yankin’ on my chain right now?” Wayne asks as he begins to show the slightest bubble of tears in his usually stern, steely grey-blue eyes.

“No, it’s not a joke, Wayne! I promise!” Eddie assured him.

“Yeah, we found out a few months ago, and we wanted you to be the first one to know.” you said softly, tears of your own now coming up to gather in your lashes.

“I’m so touched that I got to be the first one to hear about this.” Wayne says, his voice shaky with emotion as he gets up from the table to pull you in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you guys, I really am.”

Eddie sits back, watching the two people he loves the most in this world sharing in this very tender and soft moment.

“How long was it before this one started freaking out, huh?” Wayne teases, raising his eyebrows towards his nephew.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I didn’t “freak out”, I was actually very excited.” Eddie defends himself.

“No, it’s true. I think I did enough freaking out for the both of us.” you laugh. “I count myself very lucky to have someone like Eddie to hold my hand through this.”

You had invited Robin and Steve over to yours and Eddie’s place under the guise of having a chill movie night, but actually you just wanted them both to be together when you told them the news.

“I hope it’s not some sappy, romantic, chick-flick you’ve chosen.” Steve grumbles as he steals a handful of popcorn from the bowl Robin was holding.

“Don’t pretend you don’t secretly enjoy them too, dingus. I caught you crying when you were watching When Harry Met Sally the other week.” Robin calls him out.

“Meg Ryan’s acting got to me, alright!” Steve defends.

“Actually, before we start the film,” you interjected between the pair’s lovable bickering. “Eddie and I have something we wanted to share.” you say.

“Well, we wanted to share some news, and ask you both quite a big question.”

“You’re pregnant aren’t you?” Robin blurted out.

“Oh my god Robin you can’t just ask that!” Steve chided her with a gentle slap on her arm, but the silence that fell in the room suddenly felt like the loudest thing in the world. “Wait..Are you?”

You manage to huff out a gleeful ‘Yes!’ in between giggles as both Steve and Robin rush up to hug you.

“Congratulations to both of you, that’s so amazing!” Steve smiles broadly.

“I knew there was something up when you passed on doing shots with me after work last week. Oh my gosh, that's fantastic news!!” Robin cheered, her freckled cheeks beaming brightly. “How long have you known?”

“Only a few weeks, it was certainly quite the surprise let me tell you!” you smile as the both release you from the tight hug they had you in.

“And that brings us on to the other important question of the evening..” Eddie said as he laid a gentle and reassuring touch on your shoulders. “We were looking for two godparents, we wondered if you knew any good ones?”

“I think what Eddie means is, would you and Steve consider being godparents to our baby?”

“Is that even possible? You know we're not, like, a couple or anything. Isn’t it too early to do this sort of thing? You only found out a couple of weeks ago, you said so yourself!” Robin babbles

But before Robin can babble anymore Steve speaks over her with tears brimming in his honeyed hazel eyes.

“Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. We’d be honoured to.” Steve manages to get out as he wipes away the tears gathering in his lashes.

“Well that went better than I could have imagined.” Eddie said with a smile. “Didn’t bet on you crying so much though, Harrington.”

“Crying? Who’s crying? Not me, this is just..uh..allergies…shut up..” Steve sniffles.

“Well it’s nice to know that our baby’s godfather is already so emotionally invested in them.” you laugh softly.

Resting a gentle hand on the almost unnoticeable curve of your belly, you can’t help the warmth that floods your heart. Even though your baby hadn’t been born yet, you knew that they were already going to be so loved by everyone around them.

As Eddie strolled into work the following morning, he’s greeted by Randy who was turning the garage’s oil-stained radio down as he came in.

“Your old man told me your girl’s got a bun in the oven,”

“News travels fast around these parts, huh.” Eddie nods, reaching for his toolbox sitting on his work bench.

Laying a clap to Eddie’s shoulder, Randy fixes him with a stare, his forehead wrinkling as he raises his dark eyebrows.

“Good fuckin’ luck Munson, you’re gonna need it.”

@penguinsandpotterheads @aphrogeneias @mrsjellymunson

@eddiesxangel @ali-r3n @seatnights

@munsonsbtch @keeksandgigz

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x reader fluff #Eddie Munson x Female Reader #Eddie Munson x female reader fluff

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misscherrys-world · 1 month ago

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Showering together

Kai Anderson fluff.

It’s pure and clean, just a silly thought I had yesterday when I took my shower with new products. Also English isn’t my first language.

𝔐𝔬𝔫 𝔭𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔱 𝔡𝔢 𝔳𝔲𝔢

I walked down stairs slicking my hair up in a bun, coconut oil smell filling up the air while I headed to the kitchen. Kai was supposed to be out today so I took advantage of this moment to take care of myself a little before he comes back. I always take care of my looks and smell.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped slightly clearly was taken off guard. I looked behind me to the blue hue sitting on the couch chewing on god knows what.

“Why do you smell like an island?”

I panted trying to calm myself from the scare I just had.

“I’m oiling my hair.. you were supposed to be out. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

He titled his head slightly “Oiling your hair? What the hell does it supposed to do?”

I sighed and leaned over the kitchen counter. “It what makes my hair shiny and soft.”

He stood up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen counter with a frown. I thought he despised how I smell right now.

“Does it work on my hair too? It wouldn’t affect the color, right?”

I was dumbfounded by his question but I shook my head. “No, it wouldn’t.. do you.. want to try it?”

“Hell yeah! And I here thought your hair is soft genetically!”

“Okay fine here..” I gave him the bottle. He looked at it then at me. “What?” I asked confusingly as he looked at me without saying a word.

I smiled with realization. “You want me to do it for you?”

“It’s not like that.. I just don’t know the right amount and stuff you women do” He replied smugly trying to hide his true feelings. He wanted to feel my hands working their way through his hair tenderly, massaging his scalp and his nape.

After 2 hours I took him to the shower with me to wash it off.

“Stay still I have to wash it very well.” I opened my expensive shampoo bottle. The heavenly scent of it filled the bathroom as I massaged his hair with the white frothy product that coated my palms.

“I didn’t know you got that expensive shit they’re trying to convince people to buy, it’s a total scam!”

“It’s not a scam, Kai. It’s a shampoo that won’t fry your hair off. You will see after the shower.”

He huffed as we both waited 15 minutes for the hair mask to work it’s magic.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this! I have important stuff to do! I have followers waiting for my instructions!”

“Come on, it will be worth it, trust me.”

I dried his hair with the hairdryer after I sprayed the heat protectant all over it. “You didn’t have to force me on using that lotion over my body I feel like a glazed mess, everything is slippery.”

He continues complaining about everything but I knew deep down he was enjoying the luxury and royal treatment.

“We are done, Kai. Tell me how to you feel?”

He groaned “Finally!” He opened the closet to wear something nice and clean. I made sure all of his shirts were clean and ironed.

I sat in front of the dresser’s mirror combing my hair when he reached out for my chin and pressed his lips softly against my forehead then cheek. This is his way to say thank you to me when we are alone.

“Next time you do this make sure.. I’m here.. okay?”

I smiled warmly at him knowing that he really like it. I nod my head assuring him that I will take care of him.

He left the room heading to the basement where he had a meeting with his little minions. He’s in a good mood.

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madameaug · 1 year ago

Text

Wash Day || PJM x Black Fem Reader

inspo You're hair is really soft (Pinterest)

*woman in gif is not a face claim

yn: hey baby i'm getting ready to start washing my hair. so i'll be slow to respond if you text me within the next seven hours <3

jimin: seven hours ???

jimin: wait can i help

yn: uhh sure. if you want i'm unraveling my braids now

You sat your phone down, focusing on the ombre brown box braid in your hand. It was officially fall, and it was time to take out your late summer hairstyle. You stretched this style longer than usual due to your recent visit to South Korea. You came to celebrate Jimin's birthday and spent the remaining three weeks sightseeing before returning to your country.

The once neat squares were now fuzzy and overgrown. You were excited to see this much new growth spreading across your scalp. You peeked over your phone, seeing Jimin hearted your final text message. Jimin never shied away from asking you questions about your natural hair. Of course, he knew about the versatility of black hair, but now that his girlfriend was black, he felt he could become better informed.

"Yeobo." Jimin cooed, taking off his black puffer jacket. His eyes shining with pure love, looking at you. Despite half of your hair sticking out.

Jimin bent over and laid a kiss on your lips. He sat down before you, feet crossed and tucked underneath his body. "I'm ready to be your assistant."

You demonstrated to Jimin where to cut and how to unravel your braids. Like a good student, Jimin watched you take down some braids. Watching how generous you were with the detangler, using the rat tail comb to pick at those annoying knots.

Jimin was so gentle, slowly detangling your hair. Starting from the ends of your hair as you taught him. With each crinkly track of hair that Jimin removed, more and more of your natural hair was revealed. He showered your hair with compliments, not caring about the specks of dirt or clusters of hardened gel.

Starting your natural hair journey was something always intimate to you. It was your hair. Your crown. It was a part of your identity. Whether it was short, long, kinky, or curly. It grew from your scalp and was a testament to strength. Not letting Western beauty standards strip you of the beauty you were handed down from your ancestors. And for him, Jimin, your non-black boyfriend, to engage with your natural hair. You felt connected with him on another level.

In no time, an hour to be exact, you and Jimin finished unraveling all the braids. Your afro was extended high and moved like blades of grass in the wind. Jimin sweetly called your hair cotton candy.

"Your hair is so soft. I love it in this state." He leaned back on the couch, proud of his work.

"Na ah. We still got more work to do; now we have to wash it."

No complaint left Jimin's mouth as he rolled off the couch.

"Okay, but I wanna take a picture. Your hair is so cute right now." You playfully rolled your eyes but stretched out your hair to look suitable for the picture. Knowing Jimin, he was going to make this photo be his lock screen for who knows how long. With his hands around your hips, Jimin pulled you in close. His full lips puckered, kissing your cheek. Your eyes were closed, giving the camera a beautiful smile.

Reviewing the image, Jimin laughed, seeing that your afro covered a good portion of his face. But his lips on your cheek were still evident. Clearing out your kitchen sink, you explained to Jimin how each product would help your hair. He was simply taken aback by the six bottles that were sitting on the sink.

Jimin held the faucet spout over your hair, impressed at how your hair was repelling the stream of water. Jimin counted the sixty-seconds it took for your hair to start dripping from the water.

"So this is what you mean by low-porosity?"

"Yeah, it takes a while for my hair to get wet and for my hair to dry. Well at least air dry."

You squirted the coconut-scented shampoo in your hand. Ensuring that you scratched up any dirt in your hair. The scalp massage was your favorite part of washing your hair. You reached for Jimin's hands, getting them into your hair. His hands massaging your hair, hitting all the itchy spots.

"This is so satisfying, not gonna lie." You physically relaxed into Jimin's body. Despite the slightly uncomfortable bridge position you were in. You didn't mind as you watched Jimin wash your hair. You recognized his look of determination as he gave care to each area of your scalp.

"Gimme kiss." This time, you were puckering your lips for a kiss. Jimin didn't hesitate. Since your time in Korea, you have not had the opportunity to have a 'down' day with Jimin. Either he was taking you to a new part of the country he wanted you to see. Or you were working remotely from your laptop. You weren't working odd hours due to conflicting time zones. You were finding peace in the little things, like watching Jimin breathe. Your hands traced his jawline, feeling his bare skin. Not many things if life are 'perfect', but this moment between you and Jimin would be close. You basked in the moment. Not wanting this moment to end. Not enjoying your time to end.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Impossible." Jimin rinsed the shampoo, repeating the process with conditioner and deep conditioner. Jimin hadn't even noticed the time just flying by. He was just going along with the flow. Watching you section off your hair before blow drying it. The sections displayed an obvious contrast in the apparent 'length' of your hair. When soaking wet it was barely near your ear. Yet after being stretched by the blow dryer, it was at your collarbone.

"What do you need help with next?"

"This next part is pretty simple. I'm just gonna do five cornrows, then call it a night. You've been such a help, babe."

"Teach me how to do it." Jimin patted on the carpeted ground for you to sit in between his legs. In a matter of thirty minutes, Jimin mastered cornrows. Something that took you months, maybe even years to make them look presentable.

"Had I known you were this fast learner, I would have taught you this when we met." You looked at the five braids. You looked at the time, noticing that only four hours had passed. Jimin helped you shave off three hours of wash day.

"Glad to be of help."

I feel like I'm constantly changing my format when writing these imagines. Oh well. Life has been good lately, hope life has been good to everyone too <33

I'm def looking forward to the discourse on Golden over the next few days.

#bts x black reader #jimin x black reader #x black reader #jimin #parkjimin #kpop drabbles #bts drabble #black fem reader

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sebuckyverse · 2 years ago

Text

roommates [chapter 2]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. chapter summary: Moving in, you realize Eddie has changed in more ways than one. You reminisce about that night. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 3,4k a/n: part 2 loves!! let me know what you think i'm nervous about this chapter! LOVE YOU ALL tysm for the positive feedback *mwah* inspo for eddie's tat from here taglist full

↞ previous chapter ↡ masterlist ↡ askbox

chapter two ♫♪♩·.¸¸

It was almost 3am when you made it to Eddie's place. You took an Uber since Eddie claimed his precious baby, aka the shitbox van he still had, was at the shop until tomorrow, or today in this case. Eddie flipped on the lights and waltzed in, his arms open wide as he twirled around the living area.

''Tada!''

You were pleasantly surprised at how nice his place was. It was a bit messy, like he said, but you immediately felt drawn into it, intrigued to dive into the place. It was Eddie's and this was an unfiltered look into who he was today.

The living room was airy, a beige loveseat with an array of random throwpillows that didn't match each other at all in front of the TV, a a slightly dusty glass coffee table sat in front of it, topped with an unwashed mug and half empty glass of water, with a colorful Aztec rug underneath. The kitchen was white and modern with all the necessary appliances, sat against a natural red brick wall that made the space look cozy and warm. The only bathroom you were to share with Eddie was smaller than the one you had before, but big enough to fit a single sink vanity, a round mirror on the wall, a shower with a glass door and a small, but comfortable clawfoot tub. You noticed a couple shampoo bottles on the floor in the shower, along with a loofa hanging from the shower faucet. Ending in the bedroom that would be yours, it was accentuated with a king size bed, two nightstands on either side, with a big closet and a smaller dresser. It was probably the only room in the apartment that felt lifeless at the moment, you couldn't wait to transform it into your own space. Before you went to turn around, you noticed the door to the adjacent room was cracked open. It must have been Eddie's, you could only make out a few posters on the wall and a candle sitting on a nightstand, next to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. Gross.

Overall, you gave it a solid 7 out of 10. It was definitely an upgrade from the tiny trailer he used to live in.

''It's nice,'' you said.

''It's home.''

You nodded, hiding the yawn that tried to escape.

Eddie nodded his head towards the bedrooms and started walking in the same direction, you following suit. ''So, fresh sheets are in the dresser, towels are in the bathroom. I have a spare key lying around somewhere that I can give you tomorrow. For everything else, we can figure it out along the way.''

You nodded, holding your hands behind your back so he wouldn't see your nervous fingers rubbing against each other. ''Thank you, for this. It's only temporary, until I can get my own deposit together. Then I'll be out of your hair.''

''You don't have to thank me. It's the least I can do.''

You stopped, standing in front of the adjacent doors like the neighbors you now were. It's the closest you've been to him in a long time, both literally and figuratively. He was taller than you, in the best way, with the top of your head fitting under his chin perfectly. You braved to look up at him, finding him already looking down at you. He averted his eyes as soon as they met yours though.

''Okay.''

''Okay,'' he repeated, taking a step back. You gripped the strap of your bag and pushed your door open.

''Good night, Eddie.''

''Night.''

In the safety of your new room, all alone, you took a deep breath. You dropped your overnight bag onto the mattress and fetched out your favorite pajama set, changing into them. You placed your bag next to the bed and opened the dresser, finding your bedding. The pillowcases and duvet cover were easy, but the fitted sheet seemed to fight back every chance it got, slipping off one corner when you went to the opposite one. Groaning out loud for the millionth time, you went to try again when there was a knock on your door.

''What the hell are you doing? It sounds like a porno in there,'' Eddie's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

''You wish. I'm just messing with the sheets,'' you shouted back, now on top of the mattress on all fours, pulling the sheet over the upper left corner. Gently, you held your hands in the air when it didn't budge and started to shimmy your way to the other side, when the sheet snapped back again and hit you straight in the face.

''Ow!''

''Are you okay?''

The door burst open, Eddie barging in, naked. Okay, he wasn't completely naked, he was wearing tight black boxers that left little to the imagination. You and Eddie never slept together in high school, but you did other things and you remember very well how his body felt against yours, or how warm he always was. You were crouched on your side, holding one side of your face, your mouth drier than the Sahara desert seeing Eddie like this. You'd never seen him naked either, only with his shirt off and you were right about him working out. His chest was more toned than before, his stomach rippled with the smallest dusting of abs, a sharp V line that you never noticed before, ending in the light thatch of hair on his abdomen that disappeared into his boxers. He had more tattoos too, he'd once shown you all of them. He had more smaller tattoos littered on his arms, just various simple doodles really. His right thigh was covered in colorful ink, starting from under his boxers and stopping above his knee. The one piece of ink that caused you to have a near aneurysm was the one below his belly button, three phrases all lined up under each other, like a tiny poem above his pelvis. Stark black ink, all capital letters.

TRUST ME LOVE ME FUCK ME

''Y/N!''

''Huh? What?''

Eddie was looking at you, brows furrowed, but his eyes held their typical mischief. He'd caught you staring, that was obvious. Even a blind person would notice that ogling.

''I asked if you were okay?''

''Y-yeah, sorry. Got hit in the face with the sheet, stupid thing won't hold down.''

Eddie snorted and held his hand up for you to grab. You took it hesitantly and he helped you stand up. ''Here, you get that side, I'll grab this one.''

Working together, you got the sheet on the bed in twenty seconds tops. You elected to ignore the way his back muscles rolled or how his thick thighs moved so smoothly, no thigh gap in sight.

''Are you working tomorrow?'' he asked.

''No, thank fuck.''

''Need me to tuck you in?''

''Goodbye, Edward.''

''Cute pajamas, by the way!''

Pushing Eddie out and slamming the door in his snickering face, you fell on the fresh sheets, barely being able to pull the covers up when you were already sleeping.

♡

Ten hours later, you were up and hauling in six boxes full of your personal belongings that you had retrieved from your old apartment. Eddie was still asleep when you left and you didn't want to wake him either. Last night was a set back for you, a mere hour after you swore to yourself you wouldn't fall for him again, you were wishing you had x-ray vision to see through those tight boxers. You blamed it all on being exhausted, you let your guard slip. Then again, that lower belly tattoo he had stayed with you all morning. He had always been a pretty guy in your eyes, but this... upgraded version of him was something much more obscene. He was his same self, personality wise, but that fact added with how good he looked in his almost mid twenties, how he carried himself with more confidence than ever before, was enough to kill a woman.

You were pushing a box of clothes across the hardwood floors, when the door to Eddie's bedroom opened, the sun from his room shining into the hallway. He was wearing pants this time, a pair of grey sweats so low on his hips, you could easily spot that tattoo again. No shirt, of course, but his messy hair was up in a bun, which you thought was cute. He'd never worn it like that. Eddie crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe.

''Excuse me miss, are you looking for a big, strong man to help you with these boxes?''

''Yeah, you know where I can find one?''

Keening in victory, you grinned at his unamused glare towards you. Pointing your head toward the entrance, you told him about the last box.

''Thank you,'' you said, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Eddie placed the last box next to your bed, grunting.

''Jesus, what do you have in here, a body?''

''Books,'' you deadpanned.

''Oh, what kind?'' he asked, looking around the room.

''Eh.. fantasy, romance, one Kamasutra book.''

Eddie's head whipped around so fast, his bun wobbled on top of his head. His already big eyes were ready to pop out any second. You giggled, which burst into a full belly laugh when he realized you were joking. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, marching out of the room.

You busied yourself with unboxing everything. You hanged your clothes in the closet, lining your shoes up at the floor of the wardrobe, storing your bras and panties in the drawers of the dresser, leaving a couple bottom drawers empty. You stacked your new unread books on your nightstand, patiently waiting to be read. The room started to come together nicely - the dresser was topped with picture frames, one with your mom and the other with your friends at a night out, all looking at the camera with your glasses raised. The final box contained the last of your things, tiny items mostly. Your shampoo and conditioner, a make up bag, other skin care amenities, your bright pink vibrator, a gift from one of your friends, that you quickly stashed away into the top drawer of your nightstand.

Hours later, your things were put away, Eddie had gone to work, you had taken a 30 minute power nap and were now standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on your hips, lips pursed. Now what? It sounded silly, but until now, it hadn't even occurred to you that you now have to live with Eddie. He said you wouldn't see each other much, but you lived in the same apartment, thinking you would never see each other was just wishful thinking. You thought about just chilling in your room or watching TV in the living room, maybe read one of those books you bought. But looking around the place, it was clear that it needed a good clean. A deeper investigation into Eddie's fridge, cabinets and drawers indicated that you were headed for a long night.

Lucky for you, Eddie wasn't completely helpless, or perhaps they were Steve's input into the apartment, but you found a pair of rubber gloves, a sponge and a couple of cleaning products. You cleaned the fridge, throwing out an expired carton of milk and a moldy lemon, rearranging the items so they made more sense. The cabinets weren't that bad, so you only took everything out to dust the insides. You perfected the silverware drawer, swiped down the kitchen counter and every other flat surface you could find, loaded up the dishwasher and turned it on, fluffed up the throwpillows on the couch and with a strong finish, found a vacuum and swept the whole apartment, excluding Eddie's room. You stayed out of his room, feeling like you were violating his privacy, no matter how nosy you were. Or maybe that's what you told yourself, maybe you didn't want to take a peek because the last time you saw Eddie was in his old room, in his trailer he shared with his uncle. The day that he broke your heart.

It was a hot summer night, the brisk walk to Steve's house still managing to coat the back of your neck in a sheen of sweat. Late night on the 4th of July weekend, the streets were empty, most people still in town celebrating the long weekend. The closer you got to Steve's house, the louder the thumping music got, dulling out the chirping coming from the bushes lining the street.

Pushing Steve's front door open, you were instantly hit with a thick haze, cigarette smoke lingering in the air as nobody had bothered to open a window. Teens and barely legal adults were lining the hallways, dancing in the living room to your left and playing beer pong in the kitchen to your right while Michael Jackson's Bad boomed through the entire house. You were looking around for your friends, but didn't see any of them, neither did you see the wild haired metal head who had asked you to be his date for tonight.

You shot Eddie a quick text, asking where he was. Feeling silly still standing in the hallway, you pushed through the crowd, dodging a couple making out near the bathroom, ignoring the wolf whistle when you passed two guys sharing a cigarette. Clutching your phone in one hand, you used the other one to try and pull your skirt down, suddenly feeling alone and too exposed. You'd hoped to impress Eddie tonight, putting together an outfit you didn't usually wear - a Nirvana crop top with a dark green pleated skirt, black fishnets underneath, finished with a brand new pair of Dr. Martens.

In your - then naïve - heart, you hoped tonight would be the night he'd finally ask you to be his. You'd been going out for weeks now, hanging out in his trailer, studying together, driving around in his van. Eddie always sought you out in school, smiling when he found you at your locker. He'd kiss you every time he dropped you off at home, hold your hand when you navigated the endless rows at the library, buy you cotton candy at the annual fair, call you every night to wish you sweet dreams. Isn't that what boyfriends did? Even your group of friends had started asking questions, Robin specifically. What were you - friends, lovers, strangers?

You knew Eddie and his upbringing, which is why you never pushed him for answers. The timeless classic of 'what are we' always scared every guy off anyway. You figured he had a harder time coming to terms with his feelings. However, the more you spent time together, the harder you were falling for him. Hell, you'd already fallen off that ledge a while ago and you were only sinking deeper and deeper. He was Eddie, your Eddie. Sweet and thoughtful, the way he always hummed a song when you cuddled together in front of the small TV in his trailer. You always found it hard to fall asleep when he wasn't there, lulling you to sleep.

Nearing the back of the house, you could hear splashes and cheering coming from the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you picked up your steps when the double doors came in sight. Before you could make it though, someone called your name and grabbed you by the shoulder, spinning you around.

''Woah, look at you!'' Steve cheered. ''You look amazing.''

Steve pulled you in a quick hug, swaying a little bit when he pulled back. You wanted to laugh, he looked like a drunk child, bobbing his head to the music, his hair even more fluffy than usual. His eyes were rimmed red, popping open a can of beer.

''Thanks, Steve-O.'' You pushed his chest, giggling when he grabbed your hand to steady himself. ''Where's Eddie?''

Steve looked over your shoulder, scratching the two freckles on his left cheek. ''Uh, he's here somewhere. Think I saw him going to the upstairs bathroom.''

Your stomach dropped, Steve only did that when he was nervous. Why was he nervous?

''You sure? I think I heard him by the pool,'' you challenged.

Quickly grabbing your arm, Steve started pulling you towards the kitchen. ''No, no, I think that's Carver and his boys. Let's make you a drink! You look great by the way, did I mention that?''

''Steve, stop. What's going on?''

''Nothing! Just want to make you a drink, come on. What'cha want? Bloody Mary maybe?''

Steve's grip on your wrist was firm, you wouldn't be able to just pull free. Falling to dirtier tactics, you mumbled a sorry before kicking him in the back of his knee, your arm being freed when Steve tumbled to the ground, grunting.

''Y/N, wait! Don't go outside!''

Shooting a quick look back, you quickened your pace when you saw Steve getting up from the floor, rushing after you. You rushed to the back doors, the squeals and laughter getting louder. Pushing through the doors, you stopped in your tracks by the edge of the pool. Eddie was in the water with his back to you, his shirt off, but you could see his black jeans through the wavy water, his arms around Chrissy Cunningham's bare waist, her bikini clad breasts squished against his bare chest. Her arms around his neck, legs crossed on his back, she hung on to him like a koala, head thrown back in laughter.

Your arrival had gotten their attention, Eddie's head turning towards you, the toothy smile on his face dropping instantly.

''Oh, Y/N, you look amazing!'' Chrissy gasped.

Eddie said nothing, did nothing, as the two of you just stared at each other, his brown eyes shameful while yours were filling with tears, blurring your vision. Your struggled to take a breath, feeling like your lungs had just been ripped from your chest, never mind your stupid, optimistic heart.

Steve sighed behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you away. He cleared the party, lead you to one of the guest bedrooms, helped you under the covers and stayed with you the entire night, sitting on the floor next to the bed, while you wept until the early hours of the morning. The next Monday, you saw Eddie near his locker, his head bowed when you passed him in silence. His left eye was blue and purple, top lip busted. Too hurt and tired, you chose to ignore Steve's bruised knuckles when you grabbed lunch with him that day.

It was always a weird game, thinking about the time you spent with Eddie. Your heart treasured the good times, but then your head caught up, slicing those thoughts in half and showing you the pain underneath. You remembered that night so vividly, having gone through the events in your mind more times than you could count.

Then you remembered seeing him at graduation. Flinging his diploma around, his graduation cap long gone somewhere with his busted white sneakers peeking out underneath the blue skirt. He was happily chatting with Wayne, who patted him on the shoulder and looked so proud of his nephew, his son really, that for that one moment you forgot about everything and let yourself be happy for him. That was until Chrissy came along, her ponytail swinging in the air and kissed Eddie on the cheek, their fingers touching. You would have gone over there and slapped that goofy look off of his face if it weren't for Robin and Nancy calling your name, causing Eddie's eyes to look up, his smile dropping instantly.

You were so mad at him, still are if you think about it longer than five minutes. Ever since then there has been a sick battle going on between your head and your heart, like you said. In your heart, you believed he felt something for you as well. Then your head comes knocking, telling you to look at the facts.

It's all true, your head said, he didn't like you, never really wanted you. You were a game to him.

You missed him at times, the boy that you once loved, who he used to be. Your first love and your first heartbreak. But what was once said and done cannot be undone. Maybe it was time to forget about the past and focus on the present. Maybe you'd forgive him enough to become friends again. They say time heals all wounds, but so far, you were still stuck in that day, unhealed and betrayed and you had no idea how to move on from that.

♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #modern!eddie #modern!eddie munson #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #sebuckyverse #roommates fic

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lunar-years · 11 months ago

Note

For the first sentence of a fic thing:

The first time Roy thinks nothing of it; the second he thinks it a coincidence – but the third time, and catching the studied nonchalance on Jamie and Keeley’s faces, he begins to grow suspicious. "And neither of you have seen it?" he repeats slowly, staring at each of them in turn with his most intense, patented glare, waiting for one of them to break.

Jamie's face remains completely stoic--impressive, actually. Usually he's first to crack. Keeley shrugs innocently and murmurs, "Guess you must've misplaced it again, babe...."

Roy snorts. Yeah. He'd believed that the first time, when he'd found it buried on Jamie's shelf buried amongst his many, many hair products. Roy must've confused the shelves one night. His eyesight is shit in the dark, after all. Then when he next went to use it, the thing was fucking broken, so okay. Shit happened. Order another, no big deal.

This time, though, the trimmer was brand-fucking-new. And he knows exactly where he placed it once he'd removed it from the packaging. "You know that this is important, right?" he growls. "I've got be at the club in like two hours. Looking professional."

He glances past their heads to catch a sight of himself in the mirror. He meant to get a real haircut, but after a few rounds of putting it off, it's gotten long enough now for the curls to really be coming back, in desperate need of a trim, and his beard looks utterly unruly to match. Altogether, he looks like he's an aspiring caveman instead of the fresh new manager of a Premier League team.

"Your beautiful curls aren't unprofessional," Keeley says crisply, arms crossed and looking all put out like he's offended her talking about his own damn hair. Jesus Christ. "Actually, Jamie found--"

Jamie is instantly at his side, holding out a bottle of curl shampoo. "Bit of this to reduce the frizz, lad, and some beard oil to tame you up a bit in the front...very professional, that. And if it happens to make you look dead sexy, too, well--" He shrugs and exchanges a look with Keeley, who nods encouragingly like he's really selling it. They're both ridiculous.

Roy rolls his eyes. "So you mean to tell me I haven't been able to shave in days because my trimmer keeps disappearing mysteriously, and Jamie just so happened to go shopping for fucking..." he takes the bottle Jamie's holding, "curl-defining shampoo in that same timeframe? By total coincidence?"

"Exactly!" Keeley says cheerfully.

"You know, two hours gives us plenty of time to try it out," Jamie adds nonchalantly, waving the shampoo. His eyes are fucking sparkling. He's gorgeous. He's always so fucking gorgeous. "Probably best if Keeley and I help you out. Gotta really massage it in to get the full effect. It will take all three of us. We should shower together!"

Keeley's heads bobs up and down enthusiastically.

"And my trimmer is--?"

"Oh hush," Keeley says, edging closer, "You can search for that later."

"...or not!" Jamie adds.

Yeah, he thinks, letting Keeley's deft hands work at tugging his shirt over his head. Or fucking not.

#thanks for sending!#something deeply unserious after the last one hahaha #roy kent depression curls i'm always thinking about you <3 #royjamiekeeley #roy kent #jamie tartt #keeley jones #ted lasso #my writing #my fics #my fanfics #drabble #ship post #asks #ask games #writing games #first sentence of a fic thing

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howlingday · 1 year ago

Note

Here's a fun prompt!

Every time Pyrrha apologizes for something Jaune inexplicably gets kissed!

Pyrrha almost trips a mom dropping her kid off at school? Cross guard Jaune catches her and gets a smooch to the top of his head.

Pyrrha sorry for bumping into new transfers? A wet smack is heard, as one of the foreign girls gives Jaune a friendly kiss in greeting.

Pyrrha apologizing to Ren for forgetting to bring his sunscreen to the pool? Jaune almost drowns but wakes up to a smoking hot lifeguard lady giving him CPR!

How long until Pyrrha finally explodes (if at all)?

Pyrrha was... not okay. If she were okay, she was on the border between okay and not okay. If she were okay, she would be at her limit before reaching not okay. But that's not the case. She was not okay.

She was not okay.

Pyrrha must have been a mass-murdering racist who delighted in the screams of children in the past life, because it was the only logical explanation for this cursed life of hers.

She was beyond a mere school girl crush on her partner, leader, and best friend, Jaune Arc. What wasn't there to love anout him? He was tall, handsome, kind, sweet, and honest. All good qualities in a man. Unfortunately, he was also clumsy, which is where her curse begins.

Of course, Pyrrha wasn't perfect either. Aside from warped sense of self-worth after years of training in Argus to become an international sports star, Pyrrha was what her manager, her agent, her mother, her friends, and the janitor called "too nice." Jaune never believed such a thing, but even Pyrrha had to admit that she apologized a lot. And again, her curse begins there.

Maybe the curse did originate from a criminal past life. Someone who refused to apologize for their actions, so now her current life is forced to apologize at every slight thought made. And the curse caught Jaune in it's intangible web.

This morning, Pyrrha woke up and used the bathroom first. A quick, cold shower, but she used the last of the shared shampoo and she forgot to replace it with the bottle under the sink. Nora was next in and she was lividly screeching from inside the shower.

"I'm sorry!" Pyrrha cried.

"Don't worry, I got it." Jaune smiled as he walked in with his footie pajamas. Shut up. He looked cute in them. "Here you GOOO-!"

SMACK-POP!

"Oooh~! Leader~! Such a dirty boy, kissing girls while they're naked~. Why don't I scrub that dirt off~?"

"NO THANK YOU!" Jaune ran out, half-soaked from his shower encounter.

Pyrrha was grateful it didn't go further. The hairbrush in her hand was starting crack from the bending. She still had the rest of the day before apologizing to her mother for breaking another hairbrush.

---------------------------------------------------

At breakfast, it was the usually chaos. Ren was chattered at by Nora, while Weiss scolded Ruby for this or that. Yang told another terrible pun while Blake read her book. The non-smutty one.

Pyrrha reached for the butter for her toast when her hand briefly touched Jaune's hand. They were freshly calloused hands, a product of his late nights training with her. His thin frame noticably bulked from the exercises, and she was glad to see the physical progress. His hand was warm, and kind, and nurturing, and-

"Pyrrha?"

"S-Sorry!" She stumbled out of her daydream.

Her leg struck the underside of the table, causing a cup to leap and spill over. A cascade of orange juice spread far. Pyrrha reached over with napkins in hand, dropping fabric after soaking fabric for damage control. And each paper was dropped, Pyrrha unleashed a torrent of the accursed word.

"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!"

"I'll go grab more napkins!" Jaune exclaimed as he ran from table to table. Pyrrha blindingly continued to pull and place napkins as he left.

"Oh, wow." Pyrrha looked up from her task to find a second-year girl kissing Jaune.

"Nice~." And then a third year.

"Seriously?" Even Velvet gave a peck to Jaune's lips in exchange for a napkin box.

"I'm, uh, I'm back." Jaune said, blushing.

"You sure~?" Yang teased. "Maybe we need some more napkins?"

"NO!" Pyrrha slammed the table, spilling more juice. "S-Sorry."

"I'll give you my napkins if you give me a smooch. Whattaya say~?"

"U-Um..."

Pyrrha internally screamed.

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna

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tkachuksoralfixation · 8 months ago

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mcmatt + clean for the fic prompt!

(Jamie you're a real one. You know exactly what i want to write thank you)

To say the very least, Matthew Tkachuk is the most stubborn person in the world that Connor has the pleasure of looking after.

He'd taken over for Brady when the off-season started officially, given the fact that Matthew fought long and hard to play through his pretty severe injuries. Even after a good chunk of the summer had passed, Matthew continued to push himself to do things he really shouldn't be straining to do.

It's just a part of who he is. It's something Connor isn't used to, not by a long shot, and he can't really grasp why Matthew longs to be so independent. He shrugs off Connor's offers to help him out of bed, or putting on his shirt, or letting him lean on his shoulder when he's been up and at it for a while. Matthew just doesn't accept little acts of help.

So, Connor decides to take it a step further. On a particularly hard day, Connor fills up the tub with soothing warm water and a healthy few handfuls of epsom salts. It takes a lot of effort to drag Matthew into the bathroom, but god, it's worth it to see the way he melts into the water once he's in.

For the first time in a good few months, Matthew looks relaxed. Maybe even content. The bags under his eyes look softer, like just relaxing for once fixed the lack of sleep he's been struggling with. The anxious crease between his eyebrows smoothes out. It feels like a massive victory.

With a smile, Connor reaches for a bottle of shampoo that looks expensive. It's some kind of specialty product, he realizes as he examines the bottle. Made special for curls and damaged hair. He's never particularly looked at Matthew's hair products before now, but the bottle is rather heavy, so it must be new.

Matthew flinches when Connor snaps the bottle open, bright blue eyes suddenly open wide. His face scrunches into a displeased scowl.

"I can bathe myself," Matthew insists, reaching his good hand up for the bottle. Connor doesn't hand it over.

"I know you can," Connor responds simply, "it's not about whether you're able to. Just let me take care of you for now, okay?"

He squeezes a small amount of shampoo on his hand, watching the confliction spread on Matthew's face. It's clear this isn't something he considered. Washing your hair is such a standard, normal process that you hardly even think about until you have a broken arm. Connor can't imagine how useless he would feel if he suddenly had to rely on someone else to do everything for him.

Honestly? It sounds like hell on earth.

And he gets it. Really, he does. This whole thing is a conflict of everything Matthew has brought himself to believe. He has to do things on his own, prove he can make it, prove he's good enough. He can't do that if he's having his every move attended to by his brother or his boyfriend. Still, though. It's nice to be cared for once in a while, isn't it?

"Fine," Matthew mumbles, lowering his head to let Connor saturate his hair with water. "I'm doing it myself next time, though."

"You got it," Connor says.

He massages his fingers into Matthew's scalp, gently detangling his curls and rubbing the shampoo in. It's slow and tedious, but he does it regardless. Matthew sighs and groans here and there, his eyes closed as he lets Connor do his thing. He repeats the process after rinsing, this time with conditioner, and then they rinse again. Matthew is like putty in his hands, melting into his touches and leaning into him when is hands stray from his scalp.

It's okay to ask for help, he wants to say. It's okay to need people sometimes. You're allowed. But he has the feeling that won't be received very well, so Connor says nothing. He just smiles at Matthew as the water drains, helps him step out of the tub, and leans in for a wet kiss.

"Thank you," Matthew mumbles into his lips as a towel is draped over his shoulders, "y'know, you'd be a great masseuse."

"And touch anybody else but you? No way," Connor retorts, slick as a duck, a cheeky grin adorning his cheeks. He earns a smack on the shoulder.

"I'd flirt with you more, but this brain fog that comes with whatever the hell they have me on is fucked," Matthew grumbles, clinging to Connor's waist. He lets Connor do the work of drying him off, including his sopping wet hair. It feels like he just won the Stanley Cup.

"No need. I know you love me," Connor smiles. He doesn't need to be told. Being allowed in his personal space, into his life so freely, is enough.

Matthew leans into him. He doesn't touch with heat, or desperation, or lust. He just leans, chin hooked over Connor's shoulder. He radiates warmth.

It feels like a win.

#tkachuksoralcreations #hrpf #mcmatt #1997 #i got a little carried away.....#can. can you tell i love mcmatt.#can you #jamie you get me...

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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

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So Gone // Robin Buckley x bi!fem!Reader

from the I'm on Fire au

18+Only, no minors pls, smut (but also very fluffy), wlw, fingering, scissoring, oral, new love, mention of typical 90's homophobia. Word count: 1.3k

I've done several side one shots for biker!Steve, and this one for Robin has been brewing for a while. Robin is around 30, and so is Reader. Parts of who she is in the series are mentioned but this can easily be enjoyed as a standalone. It's the late nineties. If you are following the series, Katie could also be an insert for Reader.

-------

You were about to go home, but Robin told you to stay. If she’d asked, you might have been able to decline, but she flat out said: “You’re not going anywhere,” and then she brought her hand up and held your cheek, sliding her thumb along your mouth with purpose. “Please be here when I get back.”

It was time to put Oliver to bed; the five year old boy who was biologically Steve’s, Robin had helped raise him since he was a born. You’d come by to pick up the jacket you left there at the barbeque the other night, and then she’d offered you a beer, and now you were wandering around while she read her son a bedtime story in the other room. Steve was at the Velvet Hammer working his side job gig as a bouncer, and the house was dark, but for a kitchen light and an episode of Northern Exposure on the Zenith TV.

You should go, that is what your internal voice told you. What would your parents think? What would your grandmother think? My god, you were almost 30, and you physically shook your arms out trying to rid yourself of the intrusive thoughts. You’d explored your feelings for women before, but always in secret.

Robin was different—she knew what she wanted, and she was open and confident about her sexuality in a way that made you envious. In a way that made you want her even more.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, maybe 20 minutes, and you saw her step out into the hall and shut the door to Oliver’s bedroom so softly, adding a hand slice across the throat to let you know that he was out cold.

You put your empty beer bottle on the coffee table and stuffed your hands in your front pockets as she came over. You could tell she was happy that you’d stayed; the way she smiled and chewed at her bottom lip at the same time betrayed her calm walk.

You hitched a breath as she closed in and placed her hands on your hips. “Is this okay?” She breathed, carefully taking in the shift of your eyes and the movement of your lips to decipher your sighs.

You took your hands out of your pockets and slid them up her forearms. “It’s more than okay,” you answered, bringing your forehead to rest on hers. Noses met and slid along each other, and then lips grazed. They were lips that Robin had been dreaming about for years, ever since she first met you. There were tongues touching next, just the tips through parted lips, silent begs trembling on each inhale.

Cautious hands found their way along curves until shirts came off to share that aching moment of skin on skin there in the dark corner of the living room. “Come,” Robin whispered, taking your hand. You clutched your shirt to your chest and you both skittered down the hallway like two teenagers sneaking in after curfew until you were behind her closed bedroom door.

There was a candle lit in Robin’s bedroom, and blue moonlight through the curtain as she pulled down the cup of your bra to let her mouth find your nipple there. You whimpered, sending your fingers into her hair and kissing her head, smelling her coconut shampoo as her tongue swirled. Her other hand was busy at the buttons of your jeans, pulling them apart to seek the warm wet signals you were sending her.

She lifted her head to kiss your mouth while her fingers found the slick neediness between your legs, and all you could think was…Fuck, you were so gone.

You snapped the front of her bra open so that you could dip your head and taste her there too, plucking at one nipple while you sucked the other and Robin gasped, “Fuck, I want you so bad,” and the rest of the clothing came off in a frenzy of inside out denim and underwear that got slightly ripped in the jaws of urgency.

Being with her like that, tangled naked limbs on the bed, you’d never felt so safe or seen. Your fingers found her slick wet present for you, moaning for you as your fingers slipped in. It was the way she muttered your name that sent you into orbit; the way you knew that her state of arousal was all for you and she wanted this just as bad.

“I want us to be…real,” Robin breathed. You kissed her throat and stroked lazily around her bundle of nerves, savoring her mounting pleasure.

You found her eyes then, with a swallow. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

She moved on top of you, rocking her core against yours as you kissed, both enjoying the friction, tongues meeting before lips, hard nipple dragging against each other. “I’m going to make you mine forever,” she said with a bit of a laugh, but then she was sinking down to taste your sweet spot. Eyes watching you bend back as her greedy tongue sank in, teasing up along your slit, curling in for kitten licks at the right spot. You combed your fingers through her hair and cursed, feeling threatened by the swell of your desire.

“You’re going to make me…cum like that,” you whimpered, lifting your head to watch her, biting your lip.

“Mhmmm,” Robin responded. She was sucking in and rolling her tongue deep just as two fingers buried inside of you, twisting and curling, making you choke and squirm.

“Babybabybaby, just like…just like that,” you coaxed, already on the verge, and your hand made a reflexive fist in her hair.

Between your legs, Robin smiled as she worked you into oblivion: you’d never called her “baby” before, and now her heart was in her throat, her own desire actively dripping down her inner thigh. Your pelvis tilted up to meet her, to beg for her fingers deeper, and she obliged on a soft, needful groan.

Without a warning, you reached the crescendo with a whine that was louder than you meant for it to be, a wild bark to announce that you were about to unravel in her mouth. Her fingers stilled and so did you, head back and throat exposed, “cummingcumming!”

A whip inside of you cracked as a velvet sea took you adrift, and you exploded around her fingers. Limbs trembling, heel slipping on the bed, fireworks crackling behind your eyes. She continued as you rode the wave, only stopping when your hips relaxed and your swollen nub became too tender.

You’d never cum so hard in your entire life.

Then you were pulling at her arms, needing her closer, begging for her lips on yours so that you could taste what she had done to you. You bent your knee and brought your leg up to meet the wet heat of her longing, and she bucked against you for the friction as you drank your spend from her chin.

You were holding her neck to kiss her deeper when she pulled away to rest her forehead on yours. “I don’t want things to change when this is over,” she swallowed. “I want you to be mine out in the real world, too.”

She lifted her eyes to yours, hopeful and scared, waiting for you to say something like, “I’m not sure how that would work…”

“I want that too,” you told her, sincerely, butterflies bursting from the windowless caves in your heart.

You could feel her quivering with longing and uncertainty when she kissed you. “But what about your family? I know this isn’t what they’d want for you, and I want you to be happy. I don’t want to cause any—”

“Baby, shhhh,” you sank two of your fingers inside of her and she moaned into your mouth. “Honestly? They can all go to hell.”

#robin buckley #robin buckley smut #robin buckley x female reader #I'm on fire #wlw ship #wlw yearning #robin buckley one shot #Spotify #happy pride #pride month #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #robin buckley x you

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bimrwolf · 2 years ago

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You Deserve Each Other

steve harrington x afab!reader (32k ) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 warnings: steve and reader are little jerks to one another; 18+ (minors dni) for later parts; swearing summary: You and Steve have been together for five years. He's seemingly the perfect boyfriend, kisses on the cheek, knowing your orders at restaurant. A great lover. Too bad you've had enough can't stand him. a/n: inspired by You Deserve Each Other by Sarah Hogle

Steve loved his car. Its leather seats. The engine. The new car smell that still lingered, but now it had mixed with the smell of your shampoo. Him and his car had gone through so many adventures together. It was home to him.

Your head rested against the window. He was driving slow and missing any bumps in the road, realizing he wasn’t doing so to keep his car in safe condition but to make sure you wouldn’t wake up. He was still an hour out from Hawkins, the afternoon sun blazed through his windows and glimmered across your skin. The shadows of sugar maple trees that lined the highway ran across your face.

As soon as the wedding was over you two had decided to go straight home, your mini vacation was over. It was back to reality, and Steve had a nervous feeling in his stomach that as soon as he pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, you would run inside and pack your bags. Neither one of you talked about when you woke up together. Steve had finally found himself under the sheets. Your backside was molded into his stomach. His hand had been wrapped around your left boob. In fact, you two hadn’t really talked at all since yesterday.

He had barely left the chapel and you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. He didn’t mind. You often didn’t make any sleeping sounds, but you were humming to the Billy Joel song flowing from the radio. You did that sometimes. When you were asleep but your ears were still in tune to the world, replying to conversation, singing, having no recollection you did any of that when you woke up.

The first time he caught you it had been the night of your first official date. Not when he asked you to stay at Kitty’s but when he had shown up to your house, sweat beading his forehead with a bouquet of flowers. When you opened the door, you nearly laughed in his face, thinking he looked ridiculous. He had gotten annoyed, ready to storm off, telling you, “Just forget it.”

You stopped him. “Did you come here to ask me out, Harrington?” Your brow was raised, a smirk plastered on your face. At first, he thought he should have just told you, no. But since his time with you at Kitty’s he couldn’t help that stomach flipping feeling.

He had taken you on a real date the next day. Thirty minutes outside Hawkins there was a drive-in theater. Thirty minutes into the movie, which Steve was too nervous to pay attention to, you had fallen asleep. It wasn’t until he looked over at you for the first time that night, and you looked exactly the same as you did right now. Except you were younger, your hair was shorter, and the screen casted a blue tone to your skin. You were mumbling under your breath, replying to the characters talking on the screen.

It was like he wanted to bottle that moment up and keep it in his back pocket forever. He wanted you to be everywhere he went. He had spent years talking to you about what ifs, and that day he no longer wanted it to be that way. He wanted you. He nudged you, smiling when you rubbed your eyes, looking around visibly confused. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He chuckled, shrugging. “It’s okay. Really. It was cute.” You matched his smile, giving you a hint that maybe you wanted to push the what-if boundary too. He grabbed your hand gently, like it was the most precious thing in the world to him. “I like you.”

You looked away bashfully from him. “Like in a, you want to go out with me again kind of way?”

Like in a he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you kind of way. “Yes.”

You took a moment to take him in. You placed your hand on his cheek, thumb brushing over his freckle. His eyes fell to your lips, looking up to see that you were doing the same. There was that “what-if” question again. And that time you answered it, gently pushing your mouth on his.

Steve ran his hand over the steering wheel. She— his car— was where the birth of new beginnings happened. His sudden memory made him forget about the present, he had accidentally hit a hole in the road.

You made a small grunt, opening your eyes slowly, stretching your arms as best you could in the limited space. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” He told you, glancing to make sure you were okay.

You squinted, your eyes still adjusting. “It’s okay. How far are we from home?”

That last word made his heart skip a beat. “Uh, I think another forty-five minutes.”

You frowned, patting your belly. “I’m so hungry. Do we still have any granola bars left?”

He gave you a guilty look. He had hid the wrapper of the last granola bar in his pocket. “I was hoping you’d stay asleep until we got… home.” The word was like a stranger on his tongue.

You frowned and sighed, laying your head against the window once again. Steve felt bad. He hadn’t thought about eating before they left Porter.

A lightbulb went over his head when he saw the sign for a gas station about five miles away. When he turned you shot him a look.

“I thought you filled up the tank before we left.”

Steve smiled cheekily, putting his car in park. “I did.”

“Why are we stopping?” You almost looked afraid. He wondered if you thought he was about to leave you stranded or murder you.

“Why? To get you some food, sweetheart.” He poked your cheek.

“I can wait the forty-five minutes. This place looks scary.” You checked to make sure the doors were locked.

“You’ve fought a demogorgon effortlessly but you’re scared of a gas station in the middle of nowhere?” He was only teasing you. You elbowed him in the shoulder lightly. “Come on. I’ll protect you.” He jumped out of the car, and waved for you to follow. You eventually did. Reluctantly. “Get anything you want, princess. Daddy has it covered.” You looked at him like he had uttered the most vile and abominable statement in your life.

You walked around the mini aisles, clearly not appeased by the contents of the shelf. Steve walked up behind you, leaning into you, his mouth brushing your ear, smiling at the shiver you let lout. “Let’s play a game.”

“I knew it. You’re trying to murder me.” You snapped around, looking to see the nearest escape route.

“Relax. You remember one of our first dates when we went into the corner store on main?” He asked you.

“Yeah.”

“Remember what we did?”

He watched you as you thought for a second. He grinned when your face pinched in disgust. “I'd rather you kill me.”

He wasn’t listening, already searching, like he was on a private mission. “You grab the ICEEs.”

He was able to catch the mumbled profanities as you gave in, walking towards the ICEE machines. You had joined him at the register, pouting when you saw all the items on the counter. The cashier must have seen weirder or didn’t care because she looked more than bored ringing the items.

Once outside, Steve hopped on the trunk of his car, patting the empty space next to him. He already started to assemble the creation, listening to the occasional gagging sound from you.

“Ta-da!” He revealed a twinkie with a beef jerky stick stuck through the middle. The creamed filling oozed out.

You grimaced. “Do I have to?”

Steve frowned. “C’mon it wasn’t that bad.”

You slouched, snatching the twinkie from his hand and waited while he made one for himself. When he was finished, you handed him his ICEE. His favorite, Coca-Cola. “Cheers!” He proclaimed, tapping his cup with yours. You both took a sip so hard that made his eyes water. He noticed that you were concentrating hard, eyes closed shut as you slurped the ICEE.

You had finished yours a few seconds before him, moving onto the beef jerky twinkie. You hesitated before shoving the entire thing in your mouth. You shook your head in disgust, but still persevered with the atrocious flavors he knew you were experiencing.

Steve had barely swallowed the last of his own, when you had jumped off his car, hands up, tongue sticking out. “I won!”

“Damn it!” Steve tried his best to be mad. However, he was amused as you paraded around triumphantly. “Whatever.”

You laughed, approaching him. “Don’t be upset that I beat you at your own game, Stevie.” Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously, grabbing your face as you spoke so he could see inside your mouth. “What—”

He cut you off, grabbing your empty cup. Your wild eyes already told him what he needed to know, but he still sniffed it. “This wasn’t even an ICEE.”

“Y-yes it is.” You stumbled, trying to hold back the laughter. Instead, you let out a loud belch. The final evidence he needed to erase your innocence. You backed up slowly when he slid off the car. Your hands were held up defensively.

“You dirty little cheat.” He tsked. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Steve, let’s just talk like rational adults, now.”

“A little too late for that, sweetheart.” You tried to run but he was faster, grabbing you, tossing you over his shoulder. His hand was cupped on your thigh, right below your ass.

“Steve!” You laughed, hitting his back playfully.

He started to spin you around, rocks crunching under his sneakers. The sun illuminated over the scene, like a spotlight. Like you two were the only people in the world and it only belonged to you both.

***

You were disappointed when Steve passed the “Welcome to Hawkins” sign. It was a slap in the face back to reality. You wanted to grab his wheel and turn it back around. You wanted to beg him to start somewhere new. Maybe somewhere like Florida. You had never been to the beach before.

Your entire arm was lazily under his, your hand dangerously close to his thigh. But that’s as far as you would let it get. He had asked you to choose the music for the rest of the drive. And you had coincidentally chosen the mixtape he had made for your first anniversary.

The sun had started to set, the clouds a palette of pastels. Steve put on his signal to go right to turn on the road that led him to the apartment. “Can you keep going?” You asked him. He didn’t argue. He did as you asked, pressing the gas pedal to keep going straight. “Turn here.” He did. You wondered if he recognized that it was the way to the school. “Okay, can you stop right by that street lamp?”

He slowly came to a stop, putting the car in park. He tried asking why you wanted him to stop there, but you were already looking adoringly out your window.

It was a house. A small brick house. The grass was trimmed perfectly, a big oak tree stood tall in the middle. There was a paved driveway big enough to perfectly fit two cars. There was even a porch that was big enough to put chairs outside if you wanted to bask in the morning sun. A for sale sign was staked into the yard. You turned to Steve, eyes shining brightly. “I drive by this house everyday after work. Sometimes I stop and just imagine.” But only imagine, you thought to yourself. You bit your lip, looking at your fingers. “I know it’s stupid.”

Steve grabbed your hand. “It’s not stupid.”

“But it isn’t what you want.” You finally let him see you. Both of you wanted the same thing, but were on different paths to get there. Finally, it was like you both realized neither of you had to stay on those paths because you could meet in between. And it was beautiful.

Steve offered an assuring smile. “What I want is for you to be happy.” It was like he wanted to say more but he stopped himself. “I could live in our tiny apartment the rest of our lives but as long as you’re happy. Are you happy?”

“I love our apartment. I love that you have to slam the bathroom door to shut all the way. I love that there’s a permanent coffee stain on the counter from your mug. I love that it’s the first thing I got to share with you.” I love you. You wanted to scream it: I love you. I love you. I love you!

He grabbed your face, palms splayed across your cheeks. His eyes were soft, like a pool of dark whiskey that you wanted to get drunk on. “But are you happy?”

If he asked you that question a month ago you would have easily shouted, no, you were far from happy. And when you had suggested moving back in with your parents, you were convinced he was unhappy too. But you thought about how the last few weeks, the tiny changes you both had made had outshined the drawbacks in your relationship. It was like a scissor cutting the rope that held both of you back. It was like a mirage, tricking you into thinking the two of you were in ruins, the point of no return. “Steve, I don’t think I’ve ever known what that word meant if you weren’t in my life.”

Steve choked on a small sob, smiling. You thought he was leaning in to kiss you until he closed his eyes, bit his lip, and let you go. He was right next to you but you already missed him so much. “I… I need to show you something.”

The apartment was only a seven minute drive, but it might as well have been the two hour drive from Porter. He hadn’t said anything since he turned around to drive back home. He was doing the thing when he got nervous, chewing on his thumb. He almost looked guilty. Now, it was making you nervous, wringing your hands. He was agonizingly slow getting the bags out of the car. You almost told him to forget it, you two could get them later.

He trudged into the apartment, taking his time to walk into the bedroom, finally placing the bags down. He looked over his shoulder at you, taking a deep breath, retreating into the small closet. He came back with a brown briefcase. It was familiar, you had seen him carry it to work occasionally. To be honest, you thought it was all for show. That maybe he carried it when he knew his dad would drop by and Steve wanted to present himself as professional.

He plopped it on the bed dramatically, hands on his hips. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” He rubbed his neck, another given that he was really nervous. “You are always wondering where I am on those late nights with Eddie…” He trailed off, avoiding eye contact with you.

Your eyes widened, hands on top of your head. “Oh my god. No! I thought Eddie was done with all of that nonsense. And now he dragged you into it?”

Steve was taken aback. He looked hurt. “I wouldn’t call it nonsense… it’s actually kind of fun. Dustin had begged me for months to try it–”

“Dustin? Jesus. Eddie had a kid involved?” You shook your head, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’ve been dating a drug dealer. Right under my nose.”

Steve paused, processing your mini-outburst. “Wait… you thought I was talking about… drugs?” He laughed at the last word.

Now you were the one who was confused. “You… weren’t?” Another panicked thought crossed your mind. “If it’s porn–”

“It’s not–” He pulled in an expansive breath, opening his mouth to say something. It sounded like he had muttered “fuck it” under his breath. He began to unclasp the suitcase. You shut your eyes tightly, the anticipation was overwhelming. You felt him nudge you, telling you it was safe to open. You did, but almost as slow as when he drove here. You peered in the suitcase, your worry evaporating.

Inside was a Dungeons and Dragons beginners manual, a leather journal (you had gotten it for him one year for Christmas), and a green dice. You turned to him quickly. He had a sheepish expression on his face. “Would be cooler if it was drugs, right?” He joked.

You could feel your eyes brighten, leaning closer. “You play D&D?”

Steve was prone to feeling self-conscious, ever since high school, always worrying about how others perceived him. He always made the same face, crestfallen and insecure. He looked away from you. “Go ahead, just laugh.”

“Are you kidding me? Why would I laugh?” You grabbed the case of dice, the light in the room reflected against the green plastic.

“I dunno. Because it’s lame.” His voice dropped. “Thought you’d think it was stupid.”

“Stupid?” You thought he had to be joking. Your voice was soft, placing your hand on his arm. “If it’s something you enjoy. It’s far from stupid.Is that your character sheet?” You grabbed a sheet covered in Steve’s handwriting. “What’s a bard?”

Steve paused, taking in your reaction. You could feel him watching you in bewilderment as you further examined the items in the case. Steve cleared his throat, moving closer, your shoulder hitting his chest. You wondered if he could hear how your heartbeat thumped, or how the hairs on your neck rose, tingling. It felt incredibly warm being so close to him and it was comforting. “Uh… it’s kind of hard to explain. Think of it as a master poet who, when they perform their art, can cast magical spells.”

“Steve Harrington a poet?”

You felt his hand ghost at the small of your back. You shifted, leaning into him, allowing his fingers to brush under your shirt, bolts of electricity shocked your skin. “More like Leif is the poet.”

“Leif?” You looked at his character sheet and saw the name scribbled at the top. You giggled.

Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing the sheet from your hand, placing it back in the case. “Okay, that’s enough of that.”

“Steve.” You whined, grabbing his shoulder. “I’m not making fun of you. Do you know how relieved I am that this is what you’ve been hiding from me all this time?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. I thought maybe, I dunno, those hot moms who come by the shop got their grip on you or something. I can sleep peacefully at night knowing you really go play a fantasy game, reciting the poems you write.”

Steve cackled. “I told you, Leif is the one who writes them.” He paused, giving you an endearing look. “But I guess I can’t deny that he has a muse.”

Your face heated, you looked away bashfully. “I just wish you had told me about it. I wouldn’t have cared.”

Steve broke away, sitting at the edge of the bed. “I guess we’ve both been afraid of showing ourselves, huh? Like I dunno, maybe we were scared because we both aren’t the same kids from five years ago. Hell, we’re not even the same people we were a month ago. Guess we were both scared of letting one another learn the new stuff… in fear that we wouldn’t like each other now.”

Your feet were the ones who took initiative to walk over to him, closing the gap. His legs were parted and you squeezed perfectly between them. It was like second nature to put your hands on his shoulders. You smiled. “I have another confession.” His expression told you to go ahead. You giggled, brushing a strand of his hair back. “I fucking hate those curtains I bought.”

You looked over at the monotonous curtains that you dreaded looking at every single time you woke up or walked into the bedroom.

Steve scrunched up his face before breaking, his hand snaked around you, pulling you into his lap. You let out a squeal when his fingers dug into your side. Your noses nudged against one another. “Unbelievable. I’ve hated those curtains since you nearly broke up with me.” His words prickled your lips like a painter softly brushing over them.

You poked him softly in the shoulder. “I told you they weren’t the reason.”

He hummed, not believing you. He spread his hand against the side of your face. His eyes drooped, sincere, but serious. “Do you still want to break up with me?”

You wished it was appropriate to laugh. If you still wanted to break up with him, you would not be in his lap. You would not be running your hand through his hair. Your lips would not be brushing his own. “No,” you whispered. He took the word from your mouth, making it disappear when his lips fell onto yours. It was saccharine, tender, and heavenly. His touch exuded love, patience, and security. You felt like a flower blossoming, tall, in a field of sweet chamomile.

Steve broke first, catching his breath. He kissed your nose, clinging tighter as if he thought you were going to change your mind and run away. He looked over at his briefcase of DnD contraband. “So you don’t think I’m a total nerd, then?”

You smirked. “No, you’re definitely a nerd. But you make it look sexy.”

He tilted his head back, this time his hand not shying from slipping under your shirt. “Do I?”

You bit your bottom lip. “Yeah, why do you think I beg you to wear your glasses?” You gave him a fake pout. “Too bad you lost them.”

He went in for another kiss. “Yeah, too bad.” Another kiss. “How will you manage to survive not having your sick fantasies about me when I wear them?”

You changed your position, both legs wrapped around his waist. “That’s presumptuous.”

He kissed you a little harder, ending the conversation that was sure to come up again. He pulled you in closer, both of you gasping when you grinded over the hardness in his jeans. This time you didn’t tease him, bucking your hip again, drinking each other’s moan.

Your fingers started to play with his buckle when the phone started to ring. “Should get that,” you mumbled.

Steve’s lips were preoccupied with your neck to give an answer.

“Steve…”

He broke away, lips swollen. “Let it ring. If it’s important they’ll call back.”

That was enough convincing for you, your lips fell back into a synchronized rhythm, drowning out the phone. Steve stood up, holding you, laying you back on the bed. He went to grab the collar of his shirt. The phone started to ring again.

“Looks like it’s important.” You told him as he ran his hands over his face in frustration. You propped up on your elbows, watching him storm into the hallway to answer it.

You heard him greet the caller rather rudely, but after a response on the other end, it turned into a respectful tone. You sighed, climbing off the bed, joining him in the hallway, leaning against the wall. He gave you an exasperated look, shaking his head. “Can this not wait until the morning?” You could hear the familiar vexed sound of his mother’s voice on the other line. You sighed, coming to terms that whatever was about to happen would have to be placed on hold.

Steve hung up the phone, apologies already spewing from his mouth. You stopped him. “What’s going on?”

His hand ran through his messy hair. “Mom’s car isn’t starting and she needs me to look at it tonight. I shouldn’t be long. I can bring back food from Kitty’s on my way home.”

“No.” You crossed your arms. Before he could argue, you continued. “I’m coming with you.” You turned around to go change into more comfortable clothes. You had helped him at the shop once or twice before. Albeit, you were the designated flashlight holder, but you were definitely not getting any type of car fluid on your nice shirt.

Steve followed you. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to feel like you have to come. I really can call back and tell her I can’t come until the morning.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’d have to wake up early enough to fix it so I can get to work on time. It’s more practical to do it tonight.” You felt him watch as you slipped on a shirt that had bleach stains on it. You turned around, eyeing him up and down. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

There was a beat, half of his face turned upward. “Yeah.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Get dressed.” You walked out of the room.

It was an hour later and you wondered if you and Steve were still playing the game where you were trying to get under the skin of the other. He had managed to magically find his lost glasses. But not only that, he had put on a t-shirt, the sleeves so short, barely there, showing off his biceps. You almost scoffed in disbelief, thinking how it was cold enough for it to snow.

He leaned over in the hood of his mother’s car, and although you were on flashlight duty, your eyes wandered to his ass sticking up. You jumped when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling it down so the light was shining on a part you didn’t know the name of. “Stop getting distracted.” You could feel the smirk even if you couldn’t see his face.

“Can’t help it that you have a cute butt.”

“I didn’t realize you were staring at my ass. I assumed you were thinking about those sicko fantasies.” He stood up, licking his lips, pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose, knowing exactly what he was doing.

You failed as you tried to look annoyed. “You’re a dick.”

He gave you a smug look before going back to work on the car. You couldn’t help smacking his bottom. He jumped, head hitting the hood. “Jesus, you know my mom is watching us through the window, right?” You glanced over to Martha’s beady eyes peeking through the blinds. You gave her a tiny wave. Steve laughed, turning you around. “Did you only come here to mess with my mom?”

“No, I came because I wanted to. But messing with your mom is a perk to the job.” You got on your tip-toes watching him twist something. “What’s wrong with it anyway, do you know?”

“I fixed it about thirty minutes ago when I topped off the coolant.” You came to the realization that this entire time he had been messing with random parts.

The scoff you let out made him chuckle. “I’ve been freezing my tits off out here for half an hour for nothing?” You shined the flashlight in his face. “Why?”

He squinted against the light, standing back up to escape it. “You’re not the only one who likes messing with my mom, sweetheart.” His grin was smug. Silver shadows of the moon casted a mischievous glow on his face. “She’s probably running my dad’s ear off right now on how I’ve been working on it far too long. That it’s serious and she might have to get a new car.” He wiped his hand on a rag, throwing it inside his emergency tool box that he kept in the trunk of his car. He closed the hood, and as soon as he did his mother walked outside in a designer fur coat, shivering as if she had been the one standing out there for an hour. “Is everything okay? Is it fixed? Do I need to get a new one?”

Steve glanced at you, brows raised, telling you I told you so. You snorted as he convinced her everything was okay, even starting the car with ease. She grabbed his face like he was ten-years-old, peppering his cheeks with kisses, telling him she didn’t know what she’d do without him.

You watched them, smiling when Steve looked at you, his eyes pleading for help. He wasn’t used to affection from his mother. It made you wonder if she regretted not being around, leaving him behind in the empty big house, trying to fill the emptiness with bodies that he didn’t really know. But now he had someone that he did know. And more importantly, who knew him back.

***

Steve was surprised when you had been the one to accept his mom’s offer to stay for hot chocolate. His mother walked into the sitting room, holding two mugs. She handed a mug to Steve first. Steam clouded the air, a mountain of whipped cream towered above the top. It was created more delicately than the other mug that was surely meant for you. Steve took the initiative, handing the hot chocolate in his hand to you and then grabbing the second one for himself. You scooted closer, leaning into him and suddenly he didn’t need the hot chocolate to feel warm.

He mentally laughed at how the scene was drastically different. His mother was sitting on the couch, his father on the other end, reading a book. They were miles apart and he didn’t mean just physically. Whereas he sat so close to you, he could smell your perfume– which you had changed and it smelled like tangerines.

“How was the wedding?” His mom broke the silence.

You wiped a dollop of whipped cream off your nose. “It was beautiful.” The light in your eye made a tiny smile form on his lips.

Martha clicked her tongue. “Me and Conrad are just so hurt we weren’t invited. I mean we all went to school together. Don’t you agree, Connie?”

Conrad looked up from his book, clearly not listening. “Right.”

Steve’s mom paid no mind. “Let’s hope that’s not the case for your wedding.” He swore he heard under his mother’s breath, “If there will ever be a wedding.”

Steve felt you sit up, the ammo on your tongue ready to fire. He grabbed your hand, beating you to it. “We actually eloped.”

You made a sound but his mother’s was louder. She clutched her chest, claiming she couldn’t breathe. His father, annoyed that everyone was disturbing his peace, told Martha to take deep breaths. Steve laughed, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. He gave everyone a look of innocence, throwing his arm over your shoulder, offering a wink that only belonged to you. “Joking!” He held a hand up defensively.

His mother threw her head back, “Oh, bless it. Thank you Jesus.” She turned to her husband. “I was sure I saw the image of Aunt Linda at the pearly gates waving at me.” She put the back of her hand against her forehead, wiping away imaginary sweat.

There was an awkward laugh that came out of you, shifting uncomfortably. “Why should it matter if we had eloped?”

“Because I don’t want my son to make the biggest mistake of his life.”

Steve felt your body crumble, hearing the pieces of your heart shatter against your ribcage. “Right.” You set the mug on the table, the clink against the table was ear-deafening. You pushed a tight-lipped smile to your face. “I guess we know the truth now. That Steve would be making the biggest mistake if he married me.”

“Oh please. That’s not what I meant.” Martha rolled her eyes. “Steve, will you tell her how ridiculous she sounds?”

Steve wondered how many times you had to hold the pieces of your own heart, putting it back together yourself. “No.” Everyone’s eyes snapped to him, staring but he was only looking at you. He gave you a nod, saying I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m here now. We’re a team. “You’re not allowed to speak to her like that.”

“I didn’t—” his mother began.

He narrowed his eyes, locking them with his mother’s. They were big and brown, just like his. “You can speak to me however you want. You can tell me how much I’ve disappointed you as a son. You can even disown me. But I never, and I mean ever, want to hear her name in your mouth like that again. She doesn’t have to prove shit to either of you.” Steve rose from his seat, taking your hand, helping you off the couch. You looked so beautiful, even with your mouth agape, eyes wide in shock. “Tell her you’re sorry.”

“Steve…” It was the look she gave him before. The look that said, let’s talk about this in private. Those talks always consisted of how you needed to learn your manners. When she realized her son wouldn’t budge, tightening his grasp on your hand, knuckles turning white. She let out a heavy sigh, lips pursed. “I regret my choice of words.”

Steve stormed out of the house, your hand still in his as he dragged you along. You kept calling his name, but his ears were red, on fire, steaming. His jaw clenched.

“Steve—”

He cut you off, pivoting, crashing his lips on yours. It was an apology. Five years he stood by and let his mother berate you. Five years he pretended not to hear your sniffled cries in the car ride back. Five years he had been a coward, afraid of losing his family if he ever said anything. But in the midst he had almost lost something more important than anything he had cherished— you. He almost lost his home.

Steve pulled away, already missing you. He ran his thumb over your mouth, his fingers splayed over your cheek. “You know I love you, right?” And it hurt him that the word took you aback. Had he not said it enough to you? Did you still not love him anymore? “I don’t love you because it’s a habit. I love you because I want to love you. My body aches when you’re not there. And I’m sorry if I led you to believe that all this time, I didn’t.”

You grabbed his hand from your face, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. It was still bruised from the man he had hit in the bar. “I know, Steve.” You laid another tender kiss on his lips. “Let’s go home.”

The air in the apartment was different. It no longer felt small or dingy. The pipes moaning sounded more like singing. Their neighbors arguing sounded more like laughing, and Steve wondered if the reason behind the changes were because he was actually listening to the world like how he was supposed to.

Steve told you he was going to take a shower, a part of him wanted you to join. You didn’t. In fact, you had stayed in the same spot, in your chair in the living room. He had come out, now in his pajamas, and hair damp. He had instinctively put back on his glasses, ready to tease you. He had hid them in his nightstand for weeks, banishing them to hell. But finally he noticed that adorable glimmer in your eyes that made him think, glasses weren’t all that bad.

His face fell when he noticed that you were crying. It wasn’t a sob, nor were you loud, but he could recognize those sniffles from a mile away to know you were trying not to cause a scene. He crouched down in front of you. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t say anything. He grabbed your hand, letting you cry a little harder. You looked at him sadly. “I wish you saw yourself the way that I do.”

His brows furrowed. He was lost.

“You’ve been fighting for me every day for five years and I neglected to see it.”

“It’s okay.”

“No. No it’s not.” You shook your head. “Steve, you punched a guy because of me.”

“Yeah, but you assaulted a police officer because of me.” He offered you a half-hearted, assuring smile.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, pushing his shoulder. “It was only a tiny push, he barely moved!”

You both broke into a fit of laughter. You held your sides, and Steve marveled the angelic sound of sweet vibrato coming from you. It took about a minute for you to ground yourself, giving him another serious look. “Steve?”

He replied with your name the same way.

Another breathy laugh fell from your lips. “On Friday, you said you missed me.” You bit your lip, clearly nervous. “What did you mean by that?”

The corners of his lips lifted. “For starters, I missed this.” He motioned between you two. “I missed when you wanted to tell me everything. Bad or good. I missed when you woke me up in the morning by just kissing my shoulder.” He grabbed your arm. His voice dropped, low, whispering. “I miss you here.” He kissed your wrist. “And here.” He kissed your knuckles. He raised up. His fingers pushed up the sleeve of your shirt. He kissed your forearm and shoulder. His lips brushed your ear. “I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe.”

He felt you shiver, your chest raising up and down slowly. Your noses hit against one another as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were a pool of intensity, silently begging you. “Will you show me?”

He kissed your nose. “Show you what?”

“Show me how much you missed me?” You weren’t very loud. But the words echoed off the walls and he believed his heartbeat was so loud the neighbors could hear.

He tilted his head, lips ghosting yours. “Why should I?” He was teasing you, pulling away when you tried to hook your fingers in the band of his sweatpants.

He was kissing you before you had let the words out. “Because I need you.”

It was open-mouthed and hungry. It was like another one of your arguments, fiery and fighting for the last word. It was the push and pull of lips, clutching onto the soft cotton of your shirts. Steve only broke away to safely set his glasses on the coffee table, returning to you quickly, unable to handle one millisecond away from you.

He stood, hilting you up, legs wrapped around his waist. His hands on your ass, holding it tight, holding you tight. He carried you to the bedroom, careful, not wanting to hurt you, like he was carrying a priceless jewel. The briefcase on the bed now exiled to the floor.

He laid you against the gentle river of bedsheets, you were illuminated by his pool of desperation. Each article of clothing was torn off slowly, like it was a big red bow on top, nimble and careful. Steve lifted your legs, placing them on his shoulder. He slipped your underwear down your legs, discarding them to the side.

He adored you. No– he worshiped you. He used his mouth to say a prayer against the skin of your legs, his tongue praising a god as he savored you. His tongue lapped, devouring the sweet, thick, honeyed sounds pouring from you. Her fingers tangled his hair, and like a skilled harp player, knowing exactly what made him whimper.

You broke, thighs tightening around his face. Heavy pants as he set your legs on the bed, crawling on top of you. His elbows on either side of your head. Your teeth clinked against one another in a fierce kiss because you had laughed. Your hand palmed him through his boxers, kissing the map of freckles on his jaw, and he really wasn’t sure what your final destination was supposed to be.

And as he sank southwards, you drowned together in the mattress with every wave. Intertwining the rhythm of your moans and his choked back groans. He wasn’t sure what was louder, your heartbeats or the sound of skin connecting in sticky slaps that was just pure filth. “Steve…” You begged him, head thrown back, allowing him access to attack your neck. “Steve,” you mewled.

He felt like he was about to unfold, and he knew you were too. “Tell me…” He gasped as you met him in a nerve-ending thrust. “Tell me you love me?” His words were soft, but heavy. “Please.”

You opened your eyes, trying not to come undone just yet. Your fingernails gripped his back, crescents forming. “I love you.” A vehement whine followed. “Of course I love you.”

You both unraveled together, your name fell from his lips, like amaryllis, blossoming, filling the room. There were no words that needed to be uttered when he climbed off you, but also that was due to the fact he was still lazily placing pecks on your body. It was bare legs tangled together, bodies flushed against one another, Steve rubbing circles on your back.

He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep. It only felt like he had blinked when he was awakened by a kiss on his shoulder.

The rest of the weekend went by in a blur. Sunday had been spent at home. Most of the time you were cuddled together on the couch, watching trashy television. It was just talking, consisting of unimportant things. It was silly touches, toothy smiles, and eyes glimmering. It was love.

And that’s why on Monday, Steve didn’t want to part from you. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, and left the house together. Steve put on his blinker as a wave goodbye when you had turned on the street to go to the school.

He greeted everyone at the shop, ignoring the suspicious looks as he bounced to his office. Eddie was smoking a cigarette, leaned back, feet up on Steve’s desk. He eyed his friend up and down as Steve pranced in, humming a wordless tune. “Eddie, isn’t today just beautiful?”

Eddie quirked a brow, bemused. “Sure, yeah.”

And in a blink of an eye, Steve was pouting, shoulders drooping to the floor. His hand on his chest, sighing deeply. He looked like a puppy who had been shot. “What time is it?”

“Eight fifteen.” Eddie put the rest of his cigarette out, the sound of his boots plopping to the floor as he jumped up. “You okay, man?”

Steve smiled. “Never better, why?”

Eddie was experiencing whiplash from the quick sharp turns of emotions. “I dunno, you come in practically skipping and then the next you look…” He waved his hand in the air. “Gloomy.”

Steve exhaled another deep puff of air, dramatically looking at the window. “It’s hard to appreciate the beautiful day when I miss her.”

Eddie looked around the room, tilting his head to the side, his hair falling in the motion. “Holy shit.” His grin was big and all teeth. “Guessing you had a fun weekend?”

Steve smiled, patting his friend on the shoulder. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

“I should have charged you for couples therapy.” Eddie put on his vest.

Steve found himself at his desk, ready to get to work, although his mind was too preoccupied thinking about you. “Yeah man, think you really missed your true calling.”

“New business idea. H&M Counseling.” Eddie joked.

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, I think my dad would be ecstatic to hear his son started a business where feelings are involved.”

“Speaking of your dad. Did you forget to give him the finance books from last month?”

Steve was already nose deep in a catalog for car parts. “No, I gave it to him on the first like always.”

Eddie hummed in acknowledgment. “Then why is he here?”

“I don’t know.” What Eddie had said didn’t register until a minute had gone by. Steve’s eyes widened, his head shot up when the door to the office opened. Conrad Harrington stood clean and proper, like a sore thumb, in the doorway. Steve’s mouth fell.

Conrad looked at Eddie, giving him a smile that he didn’t actually mean. “Munson.”

“Mr. Harrington! Pleasure to see you.” He held out his hand. Steve’s dad looked at Eddie’s hand, then back up to his eyes. Eddie quickly retracted the offer, awkwardly rubbing his neck with it. “Right, uh, I gotta go… cars.” Eddie hurried out of the office, sending Steve a look that said ‘good luck’.

When the door shut with a click, Steve quickly stood up. “Oh… uh… do you want to sit down?” He motioned for the chair in front of his desk that Eddie had had claimed as his long ago. It was worn and Steve was sure a screw was loose on one of the wheels.

He cleared his throat, hands in his pockets. “This won’t take long.”

Steve was worried. “Was something wrong with the books?”

His father licked his lips. “No, the books were fine.”

Steve was puzzled. “Were numbers low?”

“I’m not here to talk about business. I came here as a father to talk to his son.”

Steve felt the sweat at the back of his neck, the collar of his shirt felt a little tight. His father had come here to yell at him for what he had said Saturday night. He stood a bit straighter, preparing himself for what was to come.

“What you said the other night–”

“I’m not apologizing–”

Conrad held his hand up, stopping Steve from continuing. “I’m not here about that. I mean, I am. But not what you think.”

Steve’s defensive attitude dropped, but still keeping a sliver of his guard up, still wary of what this conversation was meant to come.

“What you said the other night made me realize something about myself.” His dad blew out a breath of air. “I failed you.” Steve felt like he hadn’t heard him correct, pinching himself to ensure he was still real. He chuckled to himself. “And I guess as you know, it’s hard for a Harrington to admit that.” It was true, you were a disgrace to the Harrington bloodline if you were a failure. “I spent my time as a father trying to prevent you from being a failure, out of my own pride, and in the midst I was the one who failed.”

Steve had never had a real talk with his father like the one he was having at that moment. Vulnerable and transparent. Conrad looked around the room. “If you were a disappointment, I wouldn’t have trusted you to start this place.”

“I...” It was all Steve could make out.

“I’m still not finished.” The face he made was unfamiliar to Steve. But he swore it looked, kind? “I wasn’t sure if you were thinking straight in your relationship. But what you said made me think… nevermind. I came here to give you this.” Conrad took his hand out of his pocket, placing a black velvet box on Steve’s desk.

Steve felt the air leave his body. “Is that?”

“For your mother’s sake– don’t elope.” His father smiled. And not one of his usual condescending smiles but a genuine smile. Before there could be any tears shed or hugs, he walked away, stopping at the window. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it son?”

And Steve breathed in the moment. “Yeah, dad, it is.”

***

You didn’t want to get out of bed. You clung to Steve as he tried to get up, burrowing your entire body against his. “I have to go to work, sweetheart.” He sounded sweet like honey. “And you do too.”

“I don’t want to go.” You raised your head, letting him see that you were serious. You had gone to work all last week and it was almost unbearable.

Steve laughed as you crawled on top of him so he wouldn’t get out of bed. His hands laid on your hips, fingers toys with the hem of your shorts. “Why do you not want to go to work?”

You tucked your head. “I’ll miss you too much.”

His face went soft like a puddle of water, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you down to his bare chest in a hug. His hand rubbed your back. “It’s only eight hours. When you think about it, it goes by fast.”

“Eight hours turns into an eternity when you miss somebody.” He couldn’t see you pout, but the chuckle he let out told you he felt it. He lifted your head with his finger, smiling, giving you a gentle kiss.

“I really have to go to work today.” He didn’t budge.

You sat up, dramatically clutching your stomach, then hands on your cheeks. “Is it hot in here? I think I’m coming down with something.” You grabbed his hand, placing it on your forehead.

His face was serious. “You do feel warm.”

“See, I shouldn’t go into work today. And you shouldn’t either. It could be contagious.”

“You’re right. I know exactly what the matter is.” Steve pulled himself up, you were now sitting in his lap. An unrecognizable gleam flashed across his chestnut eyes.

“You do?” You asked him.

He hummed, shaking his head, sucking in his teeth. It was like he was a doctor breaking news to a terminally ill patient. “I’m afraid I’ve been sick with it for five years. It was only a matter of time before you caught it.” He then broke out into a toothy grin. “You’re lovesick.”

You had decided to spend the day home, convincing Steve to call the school for you, claiming you had food poisoning. But you were disappointed when Steve got dressed for work right after. You followed him around, like a lost puppy, as he collected his belongings.“You have your lunch?” You asked him.

“Right here.” He lifted the bag that you had packed him.

“Should you take another jacket? I think it’s going to get colder later in the day.” He was amused as you handed him another jacket, taking it with no argument. There was a moment that you just stopped and looked at one another. “Are you sure you have to go to work?”

He kissed your cheek, resting his forehead on yours. “How about this? You can call the shop whenever you miss me most.” Once you agreed to the compromise, he was gone before you came up with any ideas. It wasn’t like you were planning on stealing his keys and locking them inside the car.

You sat in your chair, leg bouncing, pretending to grade papers, but your mind was too focused on the clock, which had been stuck on 8:30 for far too long. You started to wonder when the last time Steve had changed its batteries. He always forgot to put them in the right way, making you do it. It made you giggle at the thought. He was sometimes the face of the idiotic jock stereotype. No one’s perfect. You take that back, Steve is perfect. And God you missed him.

It was only 8:32 AM when you called the shop.

“H&M Auto Repair, Eddie speaking.” Eddie yawned, clearly still not fully awake, sounding annoyed that they already had a customer calling.

“Hi, Eddie.” You said happily, hoping he would recognize that it was you.

It seemed to wake him up once he heard your voice. He greeted you enthusiastically. “You’re not calling to send me on a wild goose chase again, are you?”

You laughed. “No, I’m not.” You felt like a schoolgirl, passing notes in class. “I wanted to talk to my boyfriend.”

“You know how to break a fella’s heart.” You could hear Eddie move, probably dramatically holding a pretend arrow to his heart. “To think you were calling for me. Thought we had something real special going on.”

You made sure to roll your eyes loud enough for him to hear. “So sorry, Eds. It’s not you, it's me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Here’s your lover boy.”

The phone rustled as he handed the phone to Steve. You smiled, heart beating fast when you recognized the sound of his breathing. “You didn’t even make it an hour, babe.” You imagined him leaning back in his chair, smirking.

“You said to call you when I miss you most.” You defended yourself. “And so here I am.”

Steve chuckled, it was granulated but still sounded like the most beautiful melody you had ever heard. He could hang up and tell you that you used your one phone call. But instead he asked, “What am I going to do with you?”

“You should be lucky.”

There was a beat.

“I’m the luckiest.” There was a long sigh. “I gotta go.” But you could tell he didn’t want to. Maybe he was thinking the same as you, that you wished you could crawl through the phone and be with him.

Your finger twirled around the curl of the cord. “See you when you get home?”

“If you can survive that long, sweetheart.” He teased you.

You said your goodbyes, waiting to hang up until he did. You weren’t really sure what to do next. And after long deliberation you took the time to put on the radio and clean. Not that the apartment was messy, but the stove was caked in crumbs, there were dishes in the sink, and you hadn’t really done laundry since your weekend in Porter.

It was 10:15 AM when you had finished your last load of laundry, carrying the basket into the bedroom. As you folded clothes, the room felt darker than normal, even with the light on. You glanced at the window, the curtains were drawn back, but the light still caught into the fabric, holding it hostage. You ran your fingers on the pattern you once thought was pretty.

You left the room, coming back with a ladder. If Steve knew you were on it by yourself, he’d get on you. But then again, he wasn’t here and it wasn’t that far of a climb. As soon as you were close enough to reach the rod, you yanked it off the hook. Sunlight poured into the room, illuminating the tiny dust specs that floated around.

Once you put everything away, you wiped your hands, placing them on your hips, satisfied with the work done. It was 10:47 AM, and a loud yawn came out of you. Maybe a small nap wouldn’t be terrible.

You crawled onto the couch, letting your body sink into the cushions. The smell of Steve still lingered from weeks ago when he would take turns sleeping on it. And it was like it was the easiest thing to do and close your eyes.

You jolted awake, your arm instinctively hitting whoever had just shaken you awake.

“Ow!” The familiar voice of your boyfriend chuckling. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You sat up, looking at the boy in front of you. He was crouched, smiling, holding his cheek where you assumed you had hit him. “Steve?” You wondered how long you had been asleep. When you turned to look at the clock, you rubbed your eyes. It was only 11:36 AM. “Why are you home?”

Steve grabbed your hand. “Because I told myself I would come home early when I missed you most. I almost turned right around as soon as I left for work. And then when you called me I had to talk myself out of it. I was doing well until I opened my lunch.”

You grinned. “You found the note.” When you made his lunch, you slipped a handwritten note inside:

Have a good day :)

Yours Truly

“I wanna take you somewhere.” He told you. “Right now.” Fortunately, you were already dressed. As you put on your shoes, Steve grabbed your car keys. You didn’t question as you got into the car he never willingly chose to drive. But you also noticed his BMW was not in its usual spot nor anywhere to be seen in the parking lot. Steve must have noticed your confusion. “Eddie drove me home. My car was acting weird on the way to work.”

You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t believe him. Every time he lied, he blinked rapidly. He had done it just then. You bit your tongue, not pointing it out. He seemed nervous. When you set your hand on his hand, he jumped, giving you an apologetic look.

He had brought you the house. The House. But rather than parking in the street, he pulled into the driveway. You couldn’t help but let the thought cross your mind that your car looked like it belonged there. “What are we doing here?”

Steve was already jumping out of the car, coming around to open your door. His hand placed on the small of your back as he led you to the front door. There was a statue of a frog on the ground he picked up, revealing a key. “Are we allowed to be doing this?” You asked in a hushed whisper, even though there was no one around.

“Of course we are. I asked for permission.” He unlocked the door, dramatically motioning for you to go inside.

You hesitated, worried that he was actually leading you to a swarm of police officers. Or maybe your own death. But then he gave you that look, telling you that you could trust him. Your fear being washed away, overrun by excitement. You practically ran inside, hit immediately with the smell of vanilla cookies. It was bigger on the inside than the outside. “It’s even more beautiful than I thought.”

Steve was beaming from behind you as the two of you walked throughout the house. “They recently refurbished it.” Steve said as you gushed over the red brick fireplace in the living area. You squealed when you caught the sight of the kitchen. There was so much counter space compared to the apartment. Steve leaned against the doorway, smiling as you opened all the cabinets, imagining where you could put all the dishes. “Hey,” he said gently. You looked up at him. He was flushed, brushing his fingers through his hair. “Come with me.”

You followed him down the hallway, walking into a large room. Looking around, you had concluded that you were standing in what is supposed to be the master bedroom. Steve grabbed your hand, pulling you through an opened door to the left.

You gasped. It was a bathroom. It was decently sized, a large counter, the walls covered in sage green wallpaper adorned with silver flowers. But your main focus was on the large bathtub against the wall, a glass shower on the other side of it. The bathtub was ivory, reflecting the sunlight that flooded through the window. There was a long rectangular spout on the back of the tub. It almost looked like a jacuzzi tub you’d find at a spa.

Your eyes twinkled when you looked over at Steve. “I’ve never seen something so beautiful.”

“Why don’t you sit in it?” Steve asked you.

You shook your head, grabbing your arm shyly. “No, that would be weird. We don’t live here.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Take your shoes off and it will be fine.”

Steve was very convincing. Plus, you believed he wouldn’t let you leave until you gave it a try. You kicked off your shoes, giggling as you ran over to it, sliding down slowly, imagining you were slipping into a pool of steaming hot water. “I’ve never felt anything more magical.” You sighed, stretching your legs out, your feet not even reaching the other side.

Steve walked over, getting on his knees, his eyes were endearing but his smirk was mischievous. He pushed his glasses up. “Just imagine. You come home after a long day. I could run you a nice hot bath, maybe even give you one of my massages.”

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You leaned closer to him, looking at his lips. “Will there be bubbles?”

Steve licked his lips. “So many bubbles.” You leaned back, tittering when he stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. “You know, what the best thing about this bathtub is?” Steve raised a brow. You continued, “It’s big enough for two.” You didn’t have to say another word, Steve shoes were off his feet. He climbed into the other side.

You sat in silence, soaking up the imaginary hot water and bubbles. The sun perfectly casted drops of sparkles on his face. You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat even when he was all the way on the other side of the tub. “Steve.” Your foot nudged his leg. His eyes had been closed the entire time, opening them, locking his doe irises with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’re my best friend. You know that?”

Steve's face grew softer. “Yeah?”

You looked away shyly. “Yeah.”

“Even though I slurp noodles or forget to take the trash out. And even when I’m sometimes an asshole?” It was supposed to be a joke. But you could tell a part of him wasn’t.

Your face pinched into a silly grin. “Yeah, because it cancels out when I’m a bitch.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed. “You’re my best friend too.” His words were soft and tender. It made your stomach flutter, and toes tingle. A beat went by before he said your name. You never realized how much you loved hearing him say it until recently. He licked his lips again, but nervously. “I was gonna wait. I had a nice dinner planned this weekend and…” He stopped, laughing to himself. He dug through his front pocket. He opened a box, placing it on the ledge of the tub. “I’ve always thought I wanted you to need me but really, I need you. I don’t think I’d have a life if it weren’t for you.” You could see the tear threatening his lashes. “If I ever forget to tell you that I love you or I’m not with you; I want you to be able to look at your finger and be reminded of that I love you today, tomorrow, and forever.”

Now you were the one crying, lip trembling as you smiled. “But what about wanting to wait to buy a house?”

Steve looked down, wearing a look of guilt. “I kept my promise.”

“What?”

He looked up, sheepishly. “We’re currently in our house. Or I guess it will be. We just need to sign the papers and it’s ours. Our house.”

You wiped your face, still confused, stuttering. “B-but… h-how?”

Steve shrugged. “Savings.”

“I mean, yeah. But I know it wouldn’t cover everything.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I sold her.”

Her? Who was her? Your brows knitted together, trying to piece everything together. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide. “You sold your car?” His expression told you everything. “Steve,” you cried. “You love that car.”

“But I love you more.” He proclaimed. It rolled off his tongue easily, like breathing. “Yes, I love my car, but eventually the motor will stop running. But this,” he motioned between you two. “This will last a lifetime.”

You looked around the bathroom. And according to Steve it was now your bathroom. Ours. And then it was as if the answer to his question was easy. As easy as it was to blink and think. You grabbed the box, like it was treasure. Treasure which only belonged to you. And Steve. It was yours and his. It was your love. “Yes.” You had never been sure on some things in your relationship with Steve. But you had never been more sure in your life giving him that answer as you let him slip the ring on your finger. It twinkled like his eyes.

Your lips fell on his, deep and slow, savoring the moment. You wanted to bottle it like perfume and wear it everywhere you went. You weren’t sure what it’d be like in the next five years. Or who you’ll be.

But it didn’t matter, as long as you were still his.

#steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you smut #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x you smut #blaize writes #ydeo

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rr311 · 2 years ago

Note

I've been DYING with my hair recently ( ToT)

I just can't be bothered :|

Sooooo for the occasion can I request a

kunigami x black reader helping her with a hair routine and what kinda style he likes ect <3 ?

╭﹐❣︎﹕ Hair Routine ﹒〣 ﹕‹𝟹 － 𝖪𝖴𝖭𝖨𝖦𝖠𝖬𝖨 𝖱．

cw/tw. fluffy, soft!kunigami, black!reader

an. yooo, sorry if this took too long i’ve been busy but i’m glad you requested this cause i was thinking of an idea like this, i also saw that you said i was your new favorite writer and honestly that warmed heart 🥹 I’m glad you like my stories and hope you enjoy your request .

Also i apologize if the ending is booty i didn’t know how to end it 🥲

summary. - kunigami decided to help you with a hair routine.

Honestly you didn’t expect Kuni to ask if he could help you with your hair routine, matter a fact it was a surprise for you because normally he doesn’t really do stuff like this. But hey…an extra hand wouldn’t hurt now would it? When he asked if he could help you, you of course said yes which led up to now. Since you had taken out your braids the other night you had to of course wash it to get all that dried up grease and dirt that built up in your hair, you were bent over the kitchen counter as you felt his bigger hands massage the shampoo into your scalp with soft groans leaving your mouth from the pleasure. It’s been so long since you had a good deep wash it was a good ass feeling, he continued to work his hands for a few more seconds before removing them to turn on the water feeling the warm substance hit your bubbly hair, he moved his hands back to your hair to rinse all of the shampoo out of it seeing it fall into the sink along with the dirt that was built up.

He moved his hands through your hair, running them through your curls seeing how nicely it went through getting rid of the remaining shampoo. When he got all of it out he turned off the water, leaning over the counter to grab the conditioner heating the bottle open and feeling the cold substances hit your hair to your scalp. He closed the bottle, putting it on the counter next to him, running his hands through your hair again to spread out the conditioner, “Hey, how long do i have to leave it in for again?” His deep voice questioned, you sighed. “Babe I said it 10 times already..you gotta leave it in for two minutes before you can rinse it out.” You stated, you heard him give out a small “ah” as he lifted his hands up to wait for the two minutes to end. When the two minutes passed he turned the water back on rinsing the conditioner out of your hair, when he felt like he rinsed good enough he turning the water back off, leaning to grab the towel beginning to dry your hair when he seen some of the water stop dripping he wrapped the towel like how you always did, tucking in the bottom part to make stable as you stood up sighing in relief feeling that relief in your back from being bent for the past thirty minutes.

“I’ll go grab the blow dryer, comb, brush and the stuff i use for my hair okay?.” You told him as you stretching your limbs out seeing him nod his head making his way to the living room as you made your way to the bathroom to grab all the stuff you needed for your hair. (I don’t know what type of hair texture you all have so imma just stick with the basic hair which is the afro.) When you grabbed all the stuff you needed you walked into the living room to see your pillow already on the ground and blanket with him waiting for you, “Okay Kun, you ready? I’m trusting you with my hair,” Yoi jokingly said watching him roll his eyes, “I got this baby, i was born for this!” He indeed wasn’t born for this. When he saw the products you brought he didn’t know the order of what to put in, he stared at the bottles dumb founded, “Uh..(Y/N) which one do i put in first?” Lord this boy, he was gonna be the death of you. You grinned rolling your eyes before grabbing the detangler, “Well first things first is you gotta spray the detangler into my hair so it’ll be easier for you comb the blow drier through.” He nodded his head reaching to grab the grey bottle from the wooden stand up table spraying it around your hair, when he was done he placed it back down running the new product through your hair.

When he was done doing that he asked what to do next, “Then you gotta part small parts of my hair to blow dry.” He looked at you dumbfounded, making you sigh, “Here let me show you,” You reached to grab the rat tail comb, positioning it to the middle of your scalp then running the comb through your hair as he watched the hair split apart into its correct sides. “So how you do it whenever you braid your hair?.” You nodded your head handing him the comb, “Exactly like that, but not into sections like how I take one piece of hair and braid it. You gotta blow dry semi big pieces.” He nodded his head before he started to get to work on your hair, but before he started parting he stopped, “You never told me what hairstyle you wanted.” Cute, you chuckled slightly. “Well what hairstyle do you want me to have?” You questioned, in an instant he had his answer, “Can we do your afro? I like your afro the most,” Ah, his favorite hairstyle from all the different ones you had. You softly nodded your head with a smile on your face, “Then afro it is.”

The process of getting your afro was a bit…difficult at first but after a few tips and tricks he got the hang of it. It’s been at least a good thirty minutes to an hour of finishing up your hair due to you having so much and him having difficulties doing it, you sighed in relief feeling him finish up the last section of hair, combing the blow dryer through it a couple of more time before letting go of the strand, pricking his hands through it so it fluffs out like the rest, turning off the blow drier with a deep sigh, “We’re finally done.” You groaned as you stood up stretching your arms up, “Ugh finally..my ass hurts.” You complained hearing him slightly chuckle, “Your ass? Mine feels like it’s been through hell and back,” You scoffed rolling your eyes, facing your way to stare at him. “Yeah yeah,” You chuckled, Kunigami gave you a soft smile as he admired the work he did. “It seems like your hair grew out more, hm?” He questioned touching your hair with his bigger hands feeling that soft texture hit his palm, you nodded your head. “Yep, having braids in for so long it starts growing my hair out.” He hummed, “It looks pretty.” There it goes again, your heart fluttering at the slightest thing he does. You hummed in response feeling your heart warm up and butterflies fly around in your stomach as you watched his orange eyes admire your hair.

He’s always admired you in the slightest way possible, every time when you’re not looking he catches himself staring at you, when you both make eye contact you notice he would stare for a while with a small blush on his cheeks..god he loved admiring you and your features. “Oh shut up..” You mumbled with a smile on your face, Kunigami smiled in response pulling you close to him by your waist, leaning down to come face to face with you staring into your (E/C). “Don’t deny it.” You rolled your eyes, “I’m not denying it.” He hummed, “Sure you’re not.” He teased leaning in to take your lips into his.

#black reader #bluelock x you #bluelock headcanons #bluelock x black reader #bllk headcanons #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #kunigami x reader #kunigami rensuke #kunigami x black!reader #anime x black!reader #he’s too cute #but oml #i want him

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tomriddlehyperfixataion · 9 months ago

Text

The summer of 1942 - Tom Riddle x Reader -P8

cross posted on ao3

Tom sat across from Navi as he ate his lunch, the kennel door wide open as Navi stared at him, her lunch a few feet away from the cot she lay on.

He really didn’t know why he was so adamant about gaining Navi’s trust, but she was still so skinny and needed attention she couldn't get if she didn’t trust someone-so Tom supposed he was taking on that job.

Tom wiped his mouth clean of mayo and licked it off his thumb, glancing up with a raised brow as he saw Navi just a bit closer than she was before. He slowly chewed through the bite he had just taken and ripped off a bit of the turkey from his sandwich leaning forward a bit and tossing it towards Navi.

He looked down to take another bite and when he looked back up, Navi was closer and the turkey was gone. Tom held back his smile and tore another piece of turkey, tossing it slightly closer to himself but still far enough for Navi to not be too scared to eat it.

He took another bite and when he looked up, Navi was closer and the turkey was gone once again. Tom repeated this twice more, Navi getting closer each time; eventually Tom ripped off a piece of the whole sandwich and slowly held it out to Navi, speaking in a low and calm tone as she flinched back-her tail tucked and eyes wide. “it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” Tom said, leaning forward slightly, holding back his grin as Navi carefully tiptoed forward, glancing between the sandwich and Tom-before she finally took the piece he was holding and then quickly backed up, devouring the piece.

Tom ripped off another piece and ate a chip, slowly eating it as he held out the sandwich piece to Navi; who slowly stepped forward till she grabbed the piece-but this time, she didn’t go back. Tom smiled and slowly tilted his hand forward, taking a slow breath as Navi growled slightly-warning him what would happen if he dared to do anything to harm her.

“I won't, I promise,” Tom muttered-using his magic to push his feelings and intentions into the air, so Navi could read him easier and she relaxed, letting Tom curl his hand under her muzzle and pet her gently. Tom was almost heartbroken by how-surprised Navi seemed to be by Tom’s gentle touch, but soon enough she melted into it and crawled into his lap, which then melted Tom’s heart and made him let out a small sigh as he pet Navi and held her a bit closer.

He looked up when he heard a gasp and saw Prothero staring in shock-looking just as happy as he felt. “oh, my, god,” She whispered with a grin, her hands to her face as tears gathered in her eyes. “oh my god, Tom~” she continued to whisper, not wanting to scare Navi as she relaxed in Tom’s lap. He just grinned-unable to do much else other than pet Navi and keep calm.

Prothero came and sat next to him, gently petting Navi’s head with a soft smile and tears In her eyes. “Maybe now we can finally start her recovery,” Prothero muttered, giggling as Navi snuck the rest of Tom’s sandwich-which he let her, she was too skinny to not have a good sandwich.

Only a few days later-Navi let Tom pick her up and put her in the metal bathtub in the bathing room-a room every dog visited at one point or another-especially if they were new. “Have you ever given a dog a bath?” Prothero asked, handing him a bottle filled with shampoo and water.

“The only animal I’ve ever bathed is a horse,” Tom muttered, smirking at Prothero’s snort, taking the hose with the shower head and waiting until Prothero had set the water to a proper temperature and carefully introduced Navi to the water.

Navi loved the water actually, and she started smiling while Tom scrubbed her face, her eyes closing in bliss. Tom closed his eyes at the sight and let his head tip back, holding back the biggest grin while Prothero squealed with laughter.

“Thank you Tom, I don’t think she would ever get this far without you,” Prothero whispered to him as they started to rinse Navi off; Tom hid his expression with a sniff and a nod, not letting her see how much those words meant to him.

Prothero just grinned at him-clearly seeing through the mask he put up and patted his shoulder, screeching as Navi suddenly shook and covered the two of them in water and soap. “That got in my mouth,” Tom gagged, trying to spit out the soap that got his tongue. Prothero just laughed, the side of her face dripping with water.

Tom chuckled at the sight and Prothero beamed, bumping his shoulder a bit as they helped Navi out of the tub and dried her off with a fluffy towel, Tom holding Navi while Prothero clipped her nails and cleaned her ears.

As Tom and Prothero returned Navi to her room to let her get some rest from the exciting activities of getting a bath-she shyly leaned up and licked Tom’s cheek staying close enough to do it again as Tom jerked back slightly-his eyes wide. He turned to Prothero-whose eyes were sparkling with a large grin on her face. “You are a fucking miracle worker sugar cube,” she breathed and Tom rolled his eyes, patting Navi gently and letting her go back into her room.

“Tell that to Dumbledore,” Tom muttered and Prothero snorted, using his shoulder to stand and then helping him up-making him stumble a bit from how light he was and how strong Prothero was “Why? Does he not like you?” Prothero asked and Tom nodded, Dumbledore had never liked him-he could see that from the moment Dumbledore lay eyes on him that fateful day Tom learned he was a wizard.

“huh…I can see why,” Tom whipped around, feeling offended only to roll his eyes at Prothero’s grin, clearly teasing him.

“How you wound me,” Tom grumbled, forcing down the grin that wanted to prick at his lips while Prothero laughed. “I’ll have you know I’m a delight to be around,”

“Keep telling yourself that sugar cube,” Prothero chuckled, shoving Tom lightly and he shoved her back-the two devolving into snickers and laughter as they continued to push each other around until they were racing back to the house-Tom breathing heavily behind Prothero. “you’re shorter than me how are you faster!?” Tom yelled to Prothero-who was easily beating his strides.

She just laughed, touching the support beam of the patio awning first and declaring her win, Tom collapsing on the stairs as he caught up a few moments later. “Fuck you,” Tom wheezed as he let himself lay down, breathing heavily as Prothero giggled-also out of breath.

“No thanks,” Prothero said with a wheeze, giggling as Tom kicked her ankle with flushed cheeks. “Don’t take my insult out of context,” Tom hissed, but he was grinning and his tone didn’t do anything to make Prothero stop laughing.

Later that night, as Tom was getting ready for bed-he glanced at the calendar that rested on the wall and frowned-realizing there was only a month left of summer vacation. September 1st was already on its way and soon Tom and Prothero would be back at Hogwarts.

Tom swallowed, realizing what the new feeling in his throat was, anxiety. For the first time since he started school-he didn’t want summer to end. Usually, it dragged on for eons and Tom would be stuck counting the days till September 1st. But now? Now he wanted another month, an extra day; anything more to enjoy the summer.

He actually dreaded the end of summer, usually, he dreaded the end of the school year-but now it was total reverse, and Tom…did not know how to feel about it.

He had told himself that this summer wouldn’t change anything-that everything would stay the same at school, that he would continue his research, and he and Prothero would just go back to how they were before summer-to just knowing the other existed and nothing more.

But Tom didn’t know if he wanted that still…

“you don’t want to leave?” Viper hissed as Tom sat next to her tank, he had needed to vent his feelings to something that could respond-his Diary wouldn’t be able to and Prothero was sort’ve connected to those feelings.

“Not really, I don’t know why, I’ve never had a problem with any of thisss before…I don’t know whatsss different.” Tom muttered, picking at the skin of his thumb, a nervous habit he had mostly kicked-only doing it when he was exceptionally nervous.

Viper only chuckled, a hissing noise that jumped to and fro from her throat. “Hatchling, you’ve sssaid you’ve alwaysss been alone during sssummer, yesss?” Tom nodded, not quite understanding what she was getting at. “You’ve made friendsss with the other hatchling, (y/n), thatsss what you don’t want to end. Thisss is the firssst sssummer you’ve not been alone, and (y/n) isss why; you want to keep being friendsss, but you are ssscared, of what I am not sssure.”

“I’m not-scared.” Tom snapped-in English-glaring at nothing, he wasn’t scared, not of Prothero, or of anything. Viper just gave him a knowing look, she was quite wise for a snake, and she could see the confusion within the young hatchling.

“you’ve never had a real friend before, have you?” Viper asked and Tom felt his cheeks flush, before slowly nodding. “Thisss isss all new to you then, but it’sss okay to admit you want to keep being friendsss beyond this placcce, you aren’t weaker to want her to be your friend.”

Tom swallowed, clicking his jaw a bit. “You sssure think you know a lot about me,” Tom muttered, not correcting the snake but not telling her she was wrong either. Viper looked as if she was grinning, smugly, and Tom sighed; getting to his feet. “This was a waste of time,” he mumbled to himself, grabbing the key to the reptile house ignoring the knowing look on Viper’s face as he stepped out of the building and locked it back up-heading back to the house as the midnight breeze ruffled his hair.

But Viper’s words had made him think, because yes-he did want to stay friends with Prothero…but she was a muggle-born, someone his schoolmates loathed just because of her blood. If he stayed friendly with her, his reputation would possibly go down the drain and he would lose all chances of climbing the ladder he so desperately was trying to climb.

But at the same time-he didn’t care. Because Prothero…(y/n), was the first friend he had truly made, she was…fun to be around, he didn’t feel like he had to act a certain way around her, and she didn’t seem to care about the reputation he had created at school-to her, he was just another kid her age that she teased relentlessly and called sugar cube(and still stole his things, like his WAND).

Tom sighed as he stepped back into his room and leaned on the door to close it, letting his head hit the wood as it tipped back. Feelings were so confusing.

By Saturday,(it had been Tuesday when Tom bathed Navi) Navi was walking around the building while Tom and (y/n) cleaned it, usually following Tom while (y/n) held back her laughter. She was also gaining weight quickly but safely, gaining energy she hadn’t had only a week before.

And when Tom and (y/n) went back to the house to go eat lunch, Navi was making all sorts of noises as Tom and (y/n) tried to leave. (y/n) snorted as Tom stared in near awe, chuckling a bit under his breath as Navi just-kept talking. “I think she wants to come with you,” (y/n) laughed and Tom sighed, sharing a glance with (y/n)-waiting till (y/n) nodded before he went to let Navi back out and let her follow them to the house.

“Is that Navi?” Maggie asked, her eyes wide as she saw Navi trotting behind Tom. Navi quickly got anxious at the horde of humans and curled up behind Tom-who knelt beside the scared pup and wrapped his arm around her, whispering calmly.

“Yeah, she really likes Tom, got very vocal when we tried to leave.” (y/n) said as she went into the house, Maggie laughing at the image in her head while Tom stayed back with Navi, sitting with her in the grass. Navi was still very nervous around so many people-but she was the one who had demanded to come along, eventually (y/n) came back out with their lunch and handed one to Tom, who leaned away as Navi attempted to get a good sniff.

“Not for you,” Tom said with a small grin, laughing as Navi climbed into his lap and attempted to get his food. “Oh, so he does laugh!” Justin teased as Tom carefully pushed Navi off of him, making her sit and then giving her some of his chicken.

Tom just rolled his eyes with a side smirk and ate some of his lunch, chuckling as (y/n) provided commentary for Navi as if she could speak-which provided the whole horde with laughter as Navi continued to attempt to snatch Tom’s lunch right from his hands.

“Is, is for me, I take from lanky hands,” (y/n) said in an odd voice, cackling as Navi smacked Tom’s neck with her paw, being very vocal as she attempted to convince Tom to give her his lunch.

“I do not have lanky hands, I’m just skinny,” Tom told (y/n) but she just snorted and told him Navi said that, not her. Tom hummed with a nod, his lips pursed into a smirk while (y/n) laughed, just so happy Navi was finally showing off her personality and being silly.

Tom ate most of his lunch and then gave Navi the last of it for being so brave, chuckling as she devoured the chicken. “She’s gonna miss you when we leave,” (y/n) mumbled next to him, the two now alone-both watching as Navi panted in the afternoon sun, looking like the happy dog she was supposed to be. She still had a lot of weight to put on, and still needed some medical attention-but she was going to pull through.

“I think I’m gonna miss her too,” Tom mumbled back, relaxing back on his hands, keeping his eyes on Navi as he felt (y/n)’s chin rest on his shoulder, a burning feeling traveling down his arm. He ignored it, he just wasn’t used to being touched was all.

“Too bad we can’t bring her back with us, but at the same thing I think it would be way too much in too little time,” (y/n) muttered and Tom snorted, only imagining the chaos it would be to bring Navi to school. Even if he was sure Headmaster Dippet loved him, there was no way he would approve of Tom bringing a ‘random’ animal.

“Yeah, besides, I can think of some key people who would just ruin all her progress,” Tom said bitterly, thinking of his schoolmates, Black especially. (y/n) made a noise and Tom turned his head slightly, having a feeling she wanted to speak. “Why are you friends with them anyway? I mean-you’re not really like them, personality-wise. You’re far more mature, though you have your moments,” Tom snorted again and he felt (y/n)’s grin against his shirt. “and while I’m sure now, I assumed you didn’t really think of people the way they did…like how they are with muggleborns ‘n stuff, you never really called anyone…mudblood, and you aren’t a bully like they are?”

Tom froze at that, staring at Navi. “Sugar cube?” (y/n) asked, moving to sit beside him, frowning at his expression-like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Tom?”

“i…I did think that way, for a bit,” Tom muttered, looking down at his hands, which were now picking at the grass he sat on. “I just wasn't vocal about it, didn’t want to ruin any options I had,” Tom sighed again as (y/n) looked a bit uncomfortable, now realizing Tom might think the same of her as his ‘friends’ did. “Honestly (y/n),” she seemed surprised to hear her name, but let him continue. “if you had tried to be my friend before all of, this,” Tom waved his hand around at their surroundings, his eyes still downcast. “I would’ve called you all the worst names in the book, in my head at least, probably would’ve been a prat, I didn’t want friendships, I didn’t value people, only what they could do for me…”

Tom went quiet, trying to figure out his next words while (y/n) glanced off, and then back at him. “Then why were you so…nice(he was a bit rude but-nice was the closest word) during the train ride and those first two weeks? I assume your opinion didn’t really change until you started working with me?”

Tom shrugged, giving (y/n) a mock of his most charming smile. “I’m polite and I prefer to keep my enemies to a minimum, but-yes, that day I first helped you is what really started turning my mind around, that and…Navi,” Navi perked up at her name and tilted her head, making Tom smile.

“I think I still have some-things to work through but,” Tom shrugged again, looking up at the clear blue sky. “I don’t think like they do anymore…I’m…not really sure I’ll be able to return to school and go back to how it was.” (y/n) slowly hummed, nodding, staring at the side of his face.

“I would like to stay friends, for one thing,” Tom said, unable to help but let that wish tumble from his lips, flushing as (y/n) blinked at him, a bit surprised. Then she started laughing and Tom sighed, an almost tired smile on his face. “You really thought I was just going to let you act like this summer never happened?! Nah you’re stuck with me for life sugar cube; no returns, no exchanges, no take backs.” (y/n) teased, poking his cheek while Tom laughed quietly, nodding along to her teasing.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” Tom said dryly, grinning as (y/n) shook her head and shoved him gently. “Besides, those boys are all boring anyways, can't say they’ve ever spent three hours cleaning snake shit with me,” Tom muttered, laughing as (y/n) snorted and leaned forward enough to bump her head into his shoulder.

“And they’ve never gotten me beignets, so,” Tom hummed, letting out a small yelp as (y/n) pushed him to the ground, laughing as Navi jumped up and over to help (y/n) push Tom around. “Not fair! Two against one is not fair!” (y/n) just kept laughing as Navi barked-getting zoomies as the two teens kept laughing and then watched in giggling awe as Navi ran about.

“Sooo,” (y/n) muttered after a few minutes, looking at Tom and holding her hand in the air, an uncertain smile on her face. “friends?” Tom blinked, and then smiled, grabbing her hand and squeezing lightly, looking up at her from his spot on the ground. “Friends.” Tom muttered softly, his smile turning to a wide grin as (y/n) nodded, holding back a big smile of her own as Navi came over and plopped between them-letting out a big huff as she side-flopped into Tom, who let out a small ‘oof’ as Navi put her weight into him.

Yeah, he was definitely gonna miss this place.

-end of p8-

I still don’t know how to write Tom, and I half feel like the pacing is off but also…it's good enough, but yay Navi~ I’ve been imagining her as a staffy btw

@slytherinboysappreciation

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle #fluff fic

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