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mystic-writings · 2 months

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ink on skin | daryl dixon

PAIRING — daryl dixon x fem!soulmate!reader

REQUEST — anon — hello! could you do an angsty story with daryl dixon? fem reader please <3

SUMMARY — daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long ago, even with the words marked on his wrist. and then he found you.

WARNINGS — canon-typical scenarios, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, soulmate au

WORD COUNT — 3,573

NOTES — this was supposed to be part of a really long collection of prompt drabbles from years ago but i found it in my docs and turned it into something a lot longer <3 it’s not the best (i couldn't for the life of me work out a good ending), but i think this might be one of my faves i’ve written bc of how poetic the first few paragraphs are

masterlist | navigation | requests are open!

Daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long before the world ended. He gave up on it when he was just a boy, when his mother died and his father stopped showing love. When he was told by his peers, his brother, his father, that no one would ever want him to stay with them, because he just wouldn’t be wanted by anyone.

He grew to loathe the words on his wrist from a very young age. He did everything he could to cover them — makeup he stole from his aunt, long-sleeved shirts, bracelets, you name it. He’d even gotten used to not glancing at the ink scribed on his left wrist, making sure that no matter what, his eyes never fell on them.

But even when he hated the words that sat there, waiting to be spoken by someone who cared, someone who wanted him, he couldn’t deny the countless nights he spent awake, tracing each letter and imagining what his soulmate’s voice sounded like. How would they say those three little words? What would they look like? When would he meet them?

Daryl missed the feeling of being wanted. He only ever felt it when he was with his mother, when he was a young boy who didn’t know anything but that the sky was blue and soulmates were real and his father was mean. He hasn’t felt wanted — truly wanted — for a long, long time, not even when he found the group.

Over time, with the loathing came the forgetting of the words marked on his wrist. By the time the world ended, Daryl had almost completely abandoned the reality of having a soulmate, and he rarely ever thought about it. In fact, he felt some relief in the fact that the world had ended. The chances of him finding ‘the one’ had lowered significantly now that most of the population was undead, and he had no reason to worry about being better for someone just to make it seem like he was worth loving anymore.

For almost three years, he lived with the relief of likely not having a soulmate anymore.

Today was an ordinary day, especially for the Alexandrians. At least, it seemed like an ordinary day. The sun was shining, people were milling around, crops were growing. But underneath the surface was something that no one wanted to address. Fear.

Negan was beginning his wrath on the community that could barely keep itself alive. He demanded supplies, and he demanded a lot of them. So, half of Daryl’s people had gone out on runs to look for stuff. Food, clothes, medicine, whatever they could bring back. Daryl was among that group, taking a car as opposed to his motorbike and going to a high school with Carol.

At first, he volunteered to go alone, but she reasoned with him. It was too big of an area for him to cover on his own, she said. He could get hurt, or worse. And it was Carol, how could he deny her? She was his best friend, after all. So, Daryl drove in silence, Carol in the passenger seat, staring curiously at him.

The feeling of her eyes on his annoyed him to no end, and eventually, the archer caved.

“There somethin’ on my face or wha’?”

“Nothing,” Carol chirped. “Just… thinking.”

“‘Bout wha’?” Daryl asked, sparing a glance at the woman.

Carol shrugged, eyeing her friend. “About those words, on your arm.”

Daryl tensed, shifting his posture to hopefully hide them from Carol’s view. “And?”

“Well, they’re not gone, for one.” She stated, a lilt in her voice. “And they’re… interesting first words for a soulmate, don’t you think?”

“How am I supposed ta know? I ain’t never seen anyone else’s tattoos. And it ain’t like I got a good chance of meetin’ ‘em, with all this shit goin’ on.” Daryl grumbled, watching Carol shrug and avert her gaze, looking ahead at the road.

“Just saying… I wouldn’t give up hope, Daryl.”

How would Carol know whether or not he should give up hope? Sure, she’d been the person closest to him aside from Rick, but even she knew nothing about his soulmate. Hell, he was still trying to figure out how she knew exactly what words marked his wrist. Still, he shook the thoughts from his head and continued the drive in silence, as though nothing had been spoken between the pair.

Somehow, the high school Daryl and Carol had arrived at seemed to be completely abandoned.

There were no walkers roaming around outside the grounds, most of the windows were intact, and the parking lot was practically void of cars. It was a small town, but from what Daryl could remember of the high schools they’d driven past or looted during their time at the prison, he figured most high schools in small towns — like this one, in particular — would’ve been turned into aid camps for refugees.

Even with no signs of life, Carol and Daryl kept their weapons up as they entered through the main doors.

Flashlight beams swept over every inch of the school, and it became clear as to why there were no walkers. Rotting bodies littered the linoleum floors, dried blood splattered over tile and wall and metal lockers. A stench that the pair had, unfortunately, gotten used to, permeated the air, filling their guts with a permanent feeling of nausea.

The first place they’d found was the nurse’s office, and while there wasn’t much in the way of medicines, there were supplies that Alexandria was lacking. Gauze, tension wraps, bandaids, generic over the counter medicines like ibuprofen and Gravol. Whatever was left, Carol loaded into the backpack she’d brought, filling it to the brim with what they found.

“Cafeteria should be this way,” she nodded down the hall, flashlight sweeping across the path before they exited.

Passing by empty classroom after empty classroom, Daryl said, “Migh’ need some of this stuff for later, when the kids get older, ya know? Be good for ‘em to learn.”

“Yeah, it would be,” Carol nodded, eyes landing on a set of double doors to her right. “Maybe we’ll come back for all that stuff later.”

Daryl grunted in affirmation, about to push the cafeteria door open with his shoulder. He paused as a loud thump echoed down the hall. His eyes flashed, followed by the beam of his flashlight, landing on a singular closed door, a plastic chair propped under the handle.

“Leave it,” Carol advised. “It’s just a walker.”

Daryl nodded, but his eyes lingered on the door for a moment. Deciding to leave it be, he pushed the cafeteria door open, finding it empty yet again. The pair crossed the large area to the hot table, where they could already see some canned goods lying about on the tables.

“If there were people here,” Carol began, “why wouldn’t they have taken the food with them when they left?”

“Why’s that matter?” Daryl asked, propping his crossbow against the wall and pulling out his knife. He knelt by the door to the kitchen, putting his flashlight down and wedging the blade between the frame. “‘S more for us, ‘s all that matters. Don’ gotta question everythin’,”

Carol said nothing, keeping her flashlight trained on the door for Daryl to use as extra light.

After prying open the door, the pair used a cart to transport the mounds of large, sealed canned goods. With Carol pulling and Daryl pushing, they’d made quick work of the first two trips they needed to make, loading their trunk as best as they were able.

On their way out of the third and final trip, Carol held the cafeteria door open as Daryl pushed the half-full cart, stopping abruptly as the door started to swing shut behind him.

“What? What is it?”

“I hear somethin’,” Daryl muttered, straining his ears to listen for the noise again. He listened for what felt like decades, and just when he thought he was going crazy, he heard it again. “There,”

“What? I didn’t hear anything,” Carol said.

“Nah, I heard it. Comin’ from this way,” he gestured down the part of the hall they hadn’t bothered exploring. Slowly, focused entirely on identifying the noise, Daryl crept down the hall, a confused Carol following him.

Just as he’d been passing the room with the chair blocking the door, Daryl heard two sounds: a dull thunk, and a hiccuping cry. He stopped, turning to the door that had drawn his attention before.

“Daryl, it’s just a walker,” Carol insisted. “Let’s go, we got what we need.”

The archer didn’t listen, footfalls nearly silent against the linoleum as he approached the door, knife raised. In quick motions, Daryl pulled the chair from the door, sending it down the hall with a resounding screech, grabbing at the handle and pulling it open. The hinges squeaked as he peered within the dark, small room — a supply closet, he’d discerned from the cleaning products lining the shelves. All sense of danger left him when he wasn’t met with a walker, but instead a girl, her body half-laying, half-sitting, propped against the wall.

Daryl’s eyes widened, taking in her form. She was covered head to toe in dirt and grime, save for the clear tear tracks down her cheeks and neck. Her hair was matted, and the side of her calf, just above the ankle, was wrapped in dirtied bandages. Her only protection was a small knife, covered in dried blood, the handle of which rested in her limp hand.

“Holy shit,” Daryl blurted, catching the attention of Carol, but barely gaining acknowledgement from the girl before him.

Carol, peeking over Daryl’s shoulder, moved first. She darted around the archer’s broad frame, kneeling down at the girl’s calf. Peeling the bandage from her skin, Carol sighed in relief, finding a deep gash where she feared there might have been a bite mark. “She’s hurt,” Carol remarked, moving closer to search for a pulse. “And barely alive.”

“Go bring the cart out, I’ll carry her out,” Daryl’s eyes never left the girl’s form as Carol left. Carefully, he scooped the girl into his arms, relief flooding him when a weak, protesting groan fell from her chapped lips.

There was no telling how long she’d been stuck in that closet, without food or water, simply left to die. And based on the chair propped against the door… it had been intentional.

Daryl carried her to the car with ease, having Carol assist him as he laid you across the back seat, taking the time to make sure she would be secure as they drove. After confirming that everything was packed into the trunk, Daryl peeled out of the school parking lot, the drive back to Alexandria being much shorter than the one to the school.

The sun was setting when the car passed the gates, and from there, things passed in a flurry of motion. Daryl carried the girl to the infirmary himself, watching Tara and Denise move about hastily to heal this mystery woman.

“What happened to her?” Denise asked, cutting the bandage from her ankle.

“Dunno,” Daryl huffed. “Found her like tha’. Musta been trapped for a while. Few days without water, at least.”

Denise only nodded, working to clean the wound and stitch it. She barely had the focus to think about the wound itself, how deep it was and the likelihood of infection setting in. Tara worked at cleaning the girl’s skin, inserting an IV into her hand like she’d been taught.

The sun had set by the time they were done, the girl changed into new clothes and her skin cleaned of grime. Tara had been sitting by her side when Daryl came back to the infirmary, after going to the Grimes home to eat something and give as much information as he could to Rick and Michonne.

“How’s she doin’?”

“As good as she can,” Tara smiled awkwardly. “I don’t think she’ll be waking up anytime soon, she’s like— super dehydrated. It’s been an hour and I’ve had to change the bag thingy twice already.”

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement, pulling up a chair on the other side of the girl’s bedside. He didn’t know much about her — or anything, really, not even her name — but even with her chapped lips and sickly look, he thought she was beautiful. And he also knew that whoever had left her in that closet had done so on purpose. He figured it might have been because of her injury, but it was cruel no matter which way he tried to paint it.

He just hoped she’d be okay when she woke up.

It took the mystery girl three days to wake up. Managing her health at a time where there weren’t any real supplies to use had been difficult, and it took all of Denise’s focus to make sure she had enough fluids.

Waking up in an unfamiliar, oddly clean, room, on a bed, with no stench of rotting bodies wafting through the air was confusing, terrifying, and oddly comforting.

Your body woke with a jolt, eyes snapping open like you’d woken from a nightmare of sorts. There was movement to your right, and you jumped back from it, frantic eyes finding a blonde girl attempting to calm you without touching you as best as she was able.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re safe.” She’d said, stressing the last word. “One of our guys found you in a supply closet and brought you here. He— He said you were half dead.”

Pure fear and confusion kept your mouth shut. The girl kept talking, asking questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to any of it. The pain in your leg hadn’t been of any help, pulsing and throbbing with every slight movement.

By the time she’d realized you weren’t going to respond, she sighed and moved over to the kitchen to your right. When she came back, she placed some food and a tall glass of water on the bedside table, backing away slowly as she spoke. “I’m Denise. The man who found you, Daryl, is on his way to see you. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable talking to him?”

The idea of speaking to anyone, even the man you vaguely remember before passing out due to dehydration, made your stomach roll. Still, you picked up the plate, gratefully digging into the food you were given. Drinking the water, you relished the feeling of it sliding down your throat. Water was something you hadn’t had in what felt like years, and you’d be damned if you didn’t cherish what you’d been given.

As you finished up, the door creaked open, and your body stiffened. You watched a burly, reserved man step inside, his movements hesitant. You watched Denise approach, whispering something to him — likely about you. Presuming this was Daryl, you willed yourself to relax, even as you pulled your knees tight to your chest, arms locked around them.

You watched him approach the bedside, standing awkwardly beside you as you looked into his eyes. Strikingly blue, surprisingly soft.

“Hey. Ya alright?” He asked. His voice was rough, southern accent awfully thick. But his words sounded soft, somehow. Small. Like he was trying not to frighten you.

All you could manage was a nod. He huffed, nodding back, clearly somewhat relieved that you were at least communicating somehow. You kept your eyes on him, tracing every inch of his face and his clothes. It was clear to you, though you were unsure of how, that he must’ve been built for this world. Daryl seemed out of place in this clean, crisp, white room, and when you pictured him in the woods, he seemed to blend right in.

After a moment, he turned and went back to talk to Denise. They spoke in hushed whispers, and you thought back to the exchange you’d just had. Your mind had been reeling, so caught up in the entire situation, that the words Daryl had spoken didn’t register. And neither did the tingling across the inside of your wrist.

Pulling down the sleeve of your shirt, your fingers grazed at the skin where the words you’d been waiting your whole life for the right person to say used to be. With wide eyes, you found the words gone, replaced by a slight scar of where they had once been inscribed. It was surreal, and definitely not the time.

“Hey,” Daryl called out as he came to stand beside you again, voice still soft despite its natural roughness. “Doc said ya can leave if ya want. I know ya don’t know me, but if ya want… ya can stay with me. I got a cot ya can sleep on, if yer okay with tha’,”

You mustered up a small smile, nodding at the man before you — your soulmate. You’d been wishing to find him your entire life, but with the world ending, you put that aspiration aside. You certainly hadn’t expected to find him when you were at the brink of death, trapped by the selfish people you’d once considered family.

Carefully, you slipped out from the blankets, stumbling as you put weight on your injured leg. Luckily, Daryl caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist as the other guided your arm to rest around his neck. Wordlessly, you watched his cheeks flush red as he shifted his weight before you began walking.

It was painful, getting to the house he lived in. Not because of your leg, but because of the proximity. Along with the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a single word, not even to him.

As you settled into the large basement room he’d taken, he told you more about the community, about his people. The ones who lived here — Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith — were family to him. The others were the same, but they all lived in different homes. He laid out the cot as you sat on the bed, watching intently as his voice reverberated around the room, rattling your heart in your chest.

“I know ya don’t talk much,” he huffed, rooting through a bag of his and pulling something out. “But ya can write, right?”

You nodded, watching a smile play on his lips as he handed you a notepad and pen.

“Can ya tell me yer name, at least? So we can call ya somethin’ that ain’t jus’ ‘girl’?”

Smiling, you wrote out your name and handed the paper back to him. Your smile widened when you heard him say your name, meeting his eyes as he looked back up at you.

“Ya can talk, right?” You nodded.

Daryl nodded, leaving the pen and paper with you, just in case. “‘M gonna go find Rick, tell him yer stayin’ with me fer now. Alright?”

The thought of Daryl leaving you, of being alone, in an unfamiliar place, with no light aside from the window at the very top of the wall, shocked the fear back into you. As he turned, heading for the door that led to the stairs, your breath caught in your throat. As quickly as you were able, you reached out, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling him back to face you.

“Please, don’t leave.” You whispered, voice gravelly and strained. It surprised even you, eyes widening as you met Daryl’s gaze. But his carried a certain fear as his eyes tore from your own, locking onto the wrist you’d caught.

Following his line of sight, your heart stuttered, watching the ink on his arm begin to fade into his skin, into the same imprinted scar of words that you had.

“Yer…” he breathed, eyes filling with tears.

“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes watering, watching him as his eyes remained on his wrist. “Your soulmate.”

Daryl pulled his wrist from your delicate hold, his mind on overdrive. He’d thought it ironic, that the apocalypse had only pushed him closer to his soulmate instead of further apart. And now, the words he’d been desperate to cover throughout his life were finally gone, and the woman that the universe decided was meant for him was sitting on his bed, saved from the cusp of death because of him. All because he couldn’t take his mind off the closet with the chair blocking the door.

His hand came to his wrist, rubbing at the skin that was no longer tainted with words he thought would never be spoken. And despite all of the fear Daryl carried with him over the years, the gratefulness he had for the apocalypse and the relief that he’d never have to let down his soulmate when they saw that he wasn’t good enough for them, he felt none of it when he looked at you.

All he could feel was happy. Relief, not that the world had ended, but that you were safe and healthy.

And, all of a sudden, meeting your eyes, Daryl was okay with the idea of having a soulmate. All the words that had been spat his way growing up, all the times he was desperate to pretend like he didn’t have a soulmate didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was you.

It would take time for Daryl to feel like he deserved you, he knew that. But you were here, and you were alive. That was enough for now.

Forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

Daryl Dixon taglist: @katrina765 @hp-hogwartsexpress @ellablossom @alexxavicry @avabh12 (open!)

taglist form here!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #soulmate au #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months

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Mama Munson cannot cook.

She cannot bake.

She can barely make a grilled cheese without burning it.

But Wayne can cook.

He can bake.

He makes grilled cheese with tomatoes and garlic butter.

Eddie is raised with Wayne’s superior cooking and baking skills, and until he’s a teenager and goes to other friend’s houses, thinks that the “men of the family” are responsible for cooking and baking.

Wayne’s gotten aprons, and cooking utensils, and baking pans for Christmas and his birthday as long as Eddie’s lived with him.

Up until he’s too old according to his friends, he helps him in the kitchen.

Mama Munson watches the shift, but her and Wayne agree not to push.

They watch his diet do what most teenage boy diets do: turn to cereal and sandwiches at all hours of the day and night, some pizza sprinkled in when money allows.

Wayne still cooks, but his shifts turn into overtime hours, and then doubles, and he spends most of his time at home sleeping.

Eddie doesn’t seem to care, or at least not visibly.

His lunchbox is never stuffed with any food anyway, his mama isn’t dumb enough to not notice what he’s doing after school two or three days a week.

And then she almost loses him because the town turns upside down, almost literally, and everyone shuns them even more than they already did.

Not Steve Harrington, though.

He shows up every day after his volunteer shift with a grocery bag or two of fresh produce and jars and boxes and gets busy cooking. Nothing is ever that lavish, but there’s always a pop of flavors coming through even in the most simple dish.

She pretends she doesn’t see the way Eddie’s eyes widen after the first bite of whatever dish Steve’s made, reminiscent of when Wayne used to be able to cook for them almost every night. She pretends not to see the way Steve watches, waits for Eddie to show he likes it, relaxing into his chair and taking his own bite only after Eddie takes a second one.

She looks at Wayne, who’s pretending the same thing, but not hiding it well behind a knowing smirk.

Eddie starts spending more time in the kitchen with Steve, helping cut up vegetables and stirring as they talk, like he did with Wayne when he was younger.

Wayne goes back to work, but Steve always has a lunch packed for him with the leftovers so he doesn’t feel completely left out, blushes when Wayne hugs him on his way out the door. Eddie watches with a fond smile, and Mama Munson doesn’t say anything even though she should.

She’s seen what happens to boys who like straight boys firsthand, can’t be completely certain Steve’s a safe bet yet, even with the looks he throws and the care he gives. She thinks maybe he’s just a nice kid who loves his people.

But she wakes up one morning to whispering in the kitchen, and she knows Wayne isn’t home yet from his shift, so it has to be Eddie and someone else.

She sneaks out of her bedroom to see Eddie sitting on the counter, sweatpants on without a shirt, and Steve standing between his legs, cupping his face in his hands.

She’s certain that Steve left last night after she went to bed, she heard the front door open and close. But she looks closer and sees Steve’s wearing one of Eddie’s band shirts and the Christmas flannel pants Eddie got last year in his stocking.

So Steve didn’t leave, maybe wouldn’t leave ever if she was reading their faces right.

She decided not to interrupt them, sneaking back into her room and getting ready for work.

There’d be plenty of time for her to question Eddie about it, about Steve, about his feelings and if he was happy.

When she did finally go out to the kitchen, Steve was frying bacon and flipping an omelet in a pan while Eddie was sipping on a cup of coffee.

She kissed the top of Eddie’s head, then pulled Steve down to her level so she could kiss the top of his.

“Guess it’s about time we try your breakfast since you’ve been spoilin’ us with dinner for so long.”

Steve and Eddie’s matching red faces told her everything she needed to know.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #mama Munson #headcanon #cooking for people is a love language and I will die on that hill

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lesservillain · 4 months

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v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?”

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside.

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling.

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.”

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her.

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically.

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately.

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot.

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around.

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games.

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that.

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over.

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between.

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.”

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you.

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.”

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time.

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam.

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours.

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you.

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door.

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do.

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open.

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off.

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head.

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before.

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him.

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden.

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world.

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone.

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation.

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it.

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road.

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them.

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you.

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement.

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again.

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow.

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter.

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel.

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath.

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.”

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.”

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you.

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips.

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall.

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster.

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain.

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping.

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts.

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment.

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian.

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances.

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park.

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags.

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours.

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie.

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you.

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral.

Sure enough he was looking at it, too.

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie.

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him.

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier.

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave.

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.”

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him.

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s.

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours.

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside.

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room.

Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace.

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered.

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move.

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—”

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door.

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986.

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so.

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max.

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long.

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in.

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips.

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening.

Then it hits you.

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #disabled!eddie munson #disabled!eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie st

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bellesdreamyprofile · 3 months

Text

benny & y/n : the library (part 2)

“May I?”

After a bite into one of your chocolate muffins and a giddy smile waiting for his reaction, Benny knew that your story only just began. He had never liked relationships - the thought of being tied down to one person for a long period of time made him shiver. Benny valued his freedom and he would’ve never given that up. Especially for a woman.

But oh, how he loved your smile. The little dimples forming in both of your rosy cheeks and your bright eyes looking down, as you still had to get used to the attention he was giving you. He didn’t believe in love, but he believed in whatever he was feeling towards you.

He didn’t take you home that night - he feared that even asking you would be too forward. He was in no rush anyhow, since you had a lifetime in front of you.

“You get home safe, baby, alright?”, Benny’s hand brushed against the bare skin of your arm. His deep, blue eyes slowly meeting yours and you fought the urge to pout. How was it possible that you felt so comfortable around a man you only met two hours ago?

You nodded as his hand slowly made its way towards your cheek, rough digits brushing your soft skin as if it was made out of porcelain. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and you found yourself leaning into his touch. Benny smiled softly at the sight before him - a pretty girl enjoyed his company. He almost asked Johnny to pinch him, proving that all of this was not in his imagination.

“We’ll see each other again?”, you asked, tone laced with hope. He smiled again and nodded without hesitation.

“Definitely, baby.”, he placed a kiss on your other cheek and as he pulled away, you stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like hours. You were almost hypnotized by the aura he exuded - his rough hands were touching your skin yet his gentle words were touching your heart.

“Y/N!”, you abruptly pulled apart at the sound of your name being called. But Benny’s hand moved to the small of your back, finding comfort in the action.

Kathy was at the door with Felicia by her side, you couldn’t catch Martha though. She was probably with a man she stood a chance with. Kathy waved at you and nodded towards the exit, while Felicia moved her gaze away - the sight of the man of her dreams with a girl he had just met was too much for her.

Benny gently pushed the now empty container against your torso. “I’d say the muffins were a hit.”, you smiled at the compliment and looked down.

“Is my girl shy again?”, he asked in a teasing tone, a gentle finger moving your chin up to meet his eyes.

“They’re looking at us.”, you murmured, making Benny look at the girls waiting for you at the exit.

“Let them look, baby.”, Benny placed another kiss on your cheek and gave your hip a soft squeeze. “I’ll see you tomorrow, honey.”

You glanced at him for the last time tonight and gave him a soft wave, offering a gentle bye. Your heartbeat was getting ridiculously high for a little kiss on the cheek. But maybe it wasn’t the few kisses, maybe it was the way his eyes told stories like no one else’s or the way his hair was desperately begging to be brushed by delicate fingers. Or maybe it was just him.

“Took you long enough.”, Felicia muttered under her breath as you had finally reached them. You couldn’t find the strength to say anything to her or to Kathy, as your eyes were now replaying the tape of your and Benny’s first encounter.

“Ah girl. I hope that guy is worth it.”, Kathy shook her head at the sight of little hearts in your eyes. She knew very well that once she introduced you two that there was no going back. She secretly wondered if she played matchmaker or if she just signed your death warrant.

Since nobody was available for today’s shift at the library, you volunteered to stay in for the entire day. You didn’t really mind since it was your safe space — you were able to read books and drink your coffee without anybody bothering your peace. But it did a number on you that’s for sure - helping little kids picking the perfect book, placing books in alphabetical order and pulling them out of heavy carton boxes. Your feet were begging for mercy, but you couldn’t give in.

“Yeah, Kathy, I-I can’t really. It’s just me at the library today. Lilly called in sick this morning.”, you told Kathy as you were twirling the telephone cord around your finger.

“That kid is always sick. She doing it on purpose let me tell ya.”, Kathy responded and you could almost see her rolling her eyes. She was calling to pick you up and go to the bar, since it had almost been a week since you’ve been there.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”, you smiled, convinced that there was still some good in people. You looked ahead and noticed an approaching customer. “I, uh, I have to go now—“

“Benny asked about you.”, you stopped yourself from hanging up, your breath hitching in your throat at her words.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”, there was a slight sass hiding in her tone, but you didn’t have time right now.

“I have to go. I’ll talk to ya later. Love ya Kat.”

“Love ya too.”

You sighed and brushed your hair into a loose ponytail as you bent down to pick up the one of the last boxes that was delivered this morning. Some of your coworkers kept leaving things off until others from the next shift arrived - now it fell on you. Fortunately, it was closing time, so you could work in your own tempo.

Soft Elvis blues played in the background as you put books on top of shelves. A ding came from the front door, making you huff as a book slipped from your grasp.

“We’re closed!”, you called and picked up the book.

“Even for me?”

You looked up and noticed the all too familiar man standing by the door, two coffees in his hands alongside a small, paper box. You stood up and put your hands on your hips, smiling happily at the sight of him.

“Technically even for you, yes.”, you said, holding back a chuckle. “But I’ll let this slide this once.”, you teased and approached him.

His heart soared at the sight of you and quickly checked out the place, almost waiting for another coworker to approach the two of you. But no one did.

“Hi, baby.”, Benny smiled at you and noticed the bags under your eyes. “Tell me you ain’t here on your own.”, his eyes did another scan of the place, but in vain.

Your lips parted at his words. “I, uh, yes I am. Why?”

He shook his head and started muttering profanities under his breath. “So Kathy wasn’t messing with me when she told me you were alone the whole day.”

Your brows furrowed at his words. “So Kat was the one that told you where I work.”

“Not relevant. Where can I put these?”, Benny nodded to the goodies in his hands. You smiled at the thoughtful gesture and showed him to your desk.

“Right here.”, you patted the wood and sat on it, waiting for him to do the same. Instead he handed you the coffee cup and set the white box on the desk. “Thank you.”, you thanked him and gratefully started sipping the coffee.

“What’s in the box?”, you curiously looked at Benny and almost swore his cheeks assumed a pinkish color.

He cleared his throat and started opening the box. “I asked Kathy for the recipe of the muffins you brought last week… I don’t know… You don’t have to eat them—“

Now that the box was open, you could take a good look at what it was hiding. Scarcely frosted muffins with pink and white sprinkles on top. Benny was sure giving your heart a hard time surviving. You carefully picked one up and looked at it, an automatic smile formed on your lips.

“You made these?”, your words were a mere whisper above the soft Elvis song playing in the background. Benny nodded, almost in a shy way. You smiled at him and took a bite, the sugary and chocolatey flavor exploding in your mouth. You hadn’t even noticed you closed your eyes, and once you opened them, you noticed Benny’s hopeful gaze on yours.

“And?”, he raised his eyebrows in concern. If someone had told him he’d be baking muffins for a girl he met a week ago, he would’ve shot them in the leg. And here he was now, desperately awaiting for your review.

You looked at him with full cheeks and swallowed the sweet. “They’re better than mine.”, you said honestly with a giggle, going on for another bite.

Benny sighed in relief and let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Goddamn. They were hard to make. Took me two tries.”, your heart almost exploded in your chest at his words.

“You’re crazy.”, you said and felt your nose dip in the frosting. “Oops.”, you laughed a little and as you were about to clean it away, Benny’s hand grasped yours.

You looked at him with big eyes, getting hypnotized by his. “You told me we would’ve seen each other sooner.”, he said lowly and you felt the guilt trapping you at the sad tone dripping from his words.

“E-Everyone called in sick this week.”, you justified in a small tone, looking down. “I wanted to see you… Like we promised.”, your eyes slowly moved to bore in his. His hands brushed the fabric covering your arm, until they reached your hair, releasing it from the cheap elastic band.

Benny brushed your hair on your shoulders — all of this giving you an opportunity to distract yourself from your racing heart. Again, you took your time looking at him, wondering who up there took their sweet time to sculpt him so perfectly.

“So you wanted to see me again? You didn’t just say it?”, he mumbled, making you look at him. You breathed out and found the courage to grasp one of his hands, the action causing his eyes to move on you.

“I like spending time with you, Benny. I really do.”, you admitted. “I like you.”, a now Elvis love song started playing, leaving you breathless in front of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Benny squeezed your hand and brought your joined hands to his lips. “I like you too, baby.”, he placed a kiss on your hand. His face moved closer to yours, making your heart beat even faster than it had previously. Your eyes fluttered shut, expecting his soft lips on yours.

His lips kissed the tip of your nose, the frosting now gone. You opened your eyes and blushed furiously at your own thoughts. Benny smiled down at you, as if knowing your exact thoughts in the moment.

“I thought you were gonna kiss me!”, you almost whined on top of that old desk. Another smile made its way on his pretty face.

“You want me to kiss you, honey?”

“I do.”, your voice now a whisper as you had finally vocalized your thoughts out loud. His rough finger caressed your cheek, bringing you flashbacks of the night at the bar.

Before you could overthink anything else, you finally felt his plush lips on yours. Your hands immediately tangled up in his short, soft curls - almost like they belonged there. Both of his hands cupping your cheeks in the most loving way, making you wish for this moment to last forever.

Benny pulled away, leaving you starstruck. “Goddamn, baby.”, you let out a laugh at his words. And he went in to kiss you again. And again. And again.

A/N: i´m so single

PART 3

MASTERLIST

#benny cross x reader #benny cross #fanfiction #imagine #writers #benny #the bikeriders #austin butler x reader #austin butler #benny cross imagine

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ballroamblitz · 1 year

Text

caramel pie | J.P

summary: james smells caramel pie on the amortentia potion

james potter x fem!reader

word count: 3.750 content: teeth rotting fluff, angst warnings: crying, reader blushes notes: one thing about me is i love me some amortentia fic with a side of james fluff ughh also i listened to glue song by beabadoobee while writing this :) p.s i accidentally posted this on my side acc so if anyone wanna be mutuals my main blog is @beastofbrden :)

- Someone please, kindly remind me why I decided that continuing Herbology after the O.W.Ls was a good idea? - Y/N huffed out, sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

The four boys sitting around her laughed.

- Learned a lot today, uh? - Sirius asked, ironically.

- Oh yeah, loads! We had to feed toad flesh to those terrible toad-eating plants. For some reason, mine just didn't feel like eating it without regurgitating it all back on me!

The boys went hysterics, and even the girl couldn't help but laugh along.

- There's still a little piece there - James pointed. - Here, let me take it out for you.

He took out a small chunk of toad flesh off her hair.

- Well, may I remind you, Y/N, that no one told you to keep up with Herbology. We all dipped from it while we could and no one else has pieces of toad on our hair - Sirius noted, clearly getting a good laugh out of the girl's toad disaster.

- I just didn't want to hurt Sprout's feelings!

She sighed and brushed her hair with her fingers, only then looking at the food in front of her.

- Merlin, I'm starving! Could eat anything right now.

- Even toad? - Remus joked, sending the group on another laughing crisis.

By the time of dessert, Y/N started scanning the table for something. Clearly not finding it, her panic started showing.

- Oh no. Where's the caramel pie?

- They didn't serve any today - James replied, needing all the strength on his body to stay deadpanned. The other three boys were deep in conversation, and him being the one sitting closer to Y/N (as always) only he noticed the girl's agitation.

- What??? What do you mean they didn't serve any? In the six years I've been here they never not served it and I can't believe they chose today to…

- I'm just joking - James pulled a plate that was hidden behind the steak pudding, smiling playfully at the girl - Saved it for ya.

- James! I would go mad if they stopped serving this pie, y'know! - she let out a relieved breath.

- Nah, don't worry. They will keep serving it, or I would fight the elfs for ya.

- One day I’ll hide your figgy pudding, then we’ll see.

- You wouldn’t dare, missy.

James watched with a soft look on his eyes as the girl took the first bite of her favorite dessert.

- Thank you for saving me a piece, Jamie - she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment to show gratitude. When she got closer, he smelled the vanilla scent of her hair and the caramel pie on her lips.

After lunch, the five went straight to Slughorn's classroom.

- Good evening, dears, good evening! Now if you could get up and get closer, I want to show you something!

The whole class shifted near the table Slughorn was sitting behind.

- Here, we have a very special potion. - He pointed towards a bubbling caldron full of a crystal clear liquid - Very tricky to make, very characteristic and perhaps one of the most dangerous we can brew. Can anyone tell me it's name?

Y/N's hand rose in the air.

- Yes, ms. Y/L/N.

- It's Amortentia, or simply the love potion. Since true love can't really be produced by any sort of magic, it causes more of a crush or an obsession.

- Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor! - Slughorn smiled.

- Nerd - James whispered, messing up Y/N’s hair.

- Sod off, Potter.

- You see, one of the most intriguing things about Amortentia is its scent. Everyone smells something different, because its scent is completely dependent on what each person feels personally attracted to. Now, who wants to come forward and tell me what it smells like?

No one volunteered. No wonder, since it's a very particular thing to simply say in front of a whole classroom.

- No one? I'll pick someone then. Let me think... - Slughorn scanned the faces around. - Ah! Mr. Potter, you will do.

James was caught by surprise. He had been distracted by the warmth radiating off Y/N, that was almost resting her head on his chest.

- Me? - he asked and pointed towards himself.

- Of course you! Is there any other Mr. Potter?

The whole class laughed as James stepped closer, his signature boyish grin splashed on his face.

- Now Mr. Potter, lean in and smell the potion.

James ran his hands through his hair and did as told. One single sniff and his smile fell off his face completely. The scent was unmistakable: vanilla and caramel pie. Vanilla body cream, caramel pie for dessert, everyday. He had the urge to see if Y/N wasn't standing next to him, but he knew she hadn't moved from across the table. He knew he had to lie. If he said what it smelled like to him, everyone would know it was Y/N's smell.

- So, Mr. Potter. Whenever you are ready to share.

He looked at where Y/N was. She was looking at him, just as well as everyone else. She looked relaxed, the potion's glow making her look specially pretty, angel-like. Think of something, fast. Something not at all related to what you are really smelling, something like...

- It’s wood and broomstick polisher.

- Very well then Mr. Potter. Looks like you've got a thing for Quidditch, uh?

The class laughed, and everyone looked convinced. James Potter, Quidditch captain, smelling broomstick polisher and wood? Fitting. James high-fived himself for his quick thinking, and let out a relieved sight. Now, no one would go around thinking the wrong things.

Later that night, in the common room, however, the potions class was almost burning a hole through James' head. Slughorn said Amortentia smelled of what attracted each person the most. Attraction was romantic, sexual attraction. But Slughorn had been pretty vague, hadn't he? He could've meant attraction in any context. It could mean anything. It could mean platonic love, right? If Slughorn didn't think much of James smelling Quidditch, it probably meant it could smell of anything the person liked a lot, right? But it was a love potion. That caused passion. And Slughorn said he had a thing for Quidditch. A thing. But he didn't have a thing for Y/N! He loved her, of course. Everyone knew she was his best friend, they did everything together and she was probably his favorite person in the world. Yeah, maybe he went to extreme lengths to see her happy, and yeah, maybe he was a bit too affectionate with her, but she was his best friend.

- Can't do homework anymore. - James was ripped off his thoughts by Y/N's presence. She threw her backpack at the ground in front of the sofa he was in and layed down - My brain feels like mush.

James looked at her. Her head was resting on his lap, and she looked extremely comfortable. That was obvious, since they always had been this affectionate towards each other. They both were very touchy people, and it felt natural to be in constant physical contact. James was always happy, eager even, to be like this with her. In a platonic way. Obviously. Today, however, her skin on his felt like it burned.

- How was it? - James asked, coughing to conceal the way his voice failed a bit in the first word.

- Homework? Awful. It's not that difficult, but it's too much. And it just seems pointless, you know? What will I actually learn from writing 19 inches about toad eating plants? Nothing, I tell you what! - The girl sighed and closed her eyes again - Just wanna go to sleep, really.

He didn't know what to answer. He normally would have made a joke about the plants, added more criticism about essays or something. But he didn’t even do his homework, with how paranoid he was. For the first time ever, he was completely speechless in her presence. Her eyelashes were resting peacefully on her pink cheeks. The light from the fireplace made her skin look more flushed, and her hair had a golden glow to it. She looked awfully pretty. James knew that, of course. She had always been pretty. But tonight.. when she moved her head a little bit, he smelled the amortentia smell. Vanilla and caramel pie, just as strong as it was that afternoon.

- You are way too quiet today, Jamie. - She opened her eyes and he felt something weird in the pit of his stomach - Ate too much pudding?

- Yeah, probably.

She stretched and yawned, sending another wave of vanilla and caramel pie to James' nostrils.

- Going to bed - she got up. Her hair was messy and the light from the fireplace behind her looked like a halo. - Night, Jamie.

She lowered herself and pecked his cheek lightly.

- Sleep well - her soft voice was way too close to his ear, turning James' legs into jelly.

He watched her going up the stairs to the dormitory, and the place she had kissed burned long after she was gone.

He had no reason to be this nervous for the potions class the next morning. Slughorn had already moved on from amortentia, since it was a difficult, dangerous and time-consuming potion to make, but James was half hoping the potion would be brought up again, and half hoping everyone would collectively forget about it completely. Slughorn didn't mention the potion again, moving on directly to Felix Felicis. He watched the whole class on the edge of his seat. He had decided he would ask the teacher about the potion just to calm himself down. Just to make sure. Everyone had been really concentrating on making the best draught of living death the whole period, but James just wanted the class to end so he could ask Slughorn and stop eating himself alive.

- Alright, alright. Congratulations mr. Snape on your draught. Truly outstanding! - Slughorn said, raising a round of applause - Class dismissed!

Everyone started to gather their backpacks and leave, but James made sure to stay back. He pretended to be very interested in a weird type of algae that Slughorn kept in a little ampoule. Just a few more moments and then he'll say that no, I don't have romantic feelings for Y/N and that i just really like caramel pie or something, and then i'll stop going mental...

- Gillyweed. - Slughorn’s voice dragged James off of his daydreams

- Uh? - James frowned in confusion, wondering what the teacher was talking about.

- The algae you're looking at, Mr. Potter. Gillyweed. Helps the person breathe underwater.

- Oh, yeah, right. Professor Slughorn, I was wondering if I could ask you something.

- Sure, my boy, ask away - Slughorn encouraged while distractingly stacking some parchments.

- I was wondering… about the Amortentia potion.

Slughorn stopped his movements and lifted his eyes directly to James.

- Oh, I see - He looked very amused, for some reason. - What were you wondering?

- Let's just say a friend of mine smells it and it reminds him of someone. It could smell like someone he just truly cares about, couldn't it? Like, it doesn't necessarily mean he's in love with the person that the scent reminds him of, right?

Slughorn's lopsided smile grew bigger.

- I'm afraid, no, my boy.

- What? - James felt like the classroom got three times smaller and hotter by the minute - But I smelled wood and polishing oil, and I'm not in love with a broom, am i?

- Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter... - Slughorn chuckled. - I think we both know you didn't smell any of that.

James felt his face getting warm and red.

- But, if you did, that would mean you have a crush on a Quidditch player, let's just put it like that. Amortentia is a very strong love potion, and we can only smell things in it that romantically attract us very deeply. Those of us that aren't in love with anyone would smell something quite abstract. But if this friend of yours smelled amortentia and recognized the scent as someone's, then boy do I have news for him. Does this answer your question?

- Hm, yeah, sure. - James agreed. He felt like he was gonna fall down from the absurd speed at which his mind was racing. - Thank you, Professor.

- Anytime. - James began to leave, completely out of it. - Oh, and Mr. Potter?

- Yes? - James turned around, hopeful that Slughorn would start laughing and admit he was joking.

- Tell your friend I wish him the best of luck with this new, blossoming love.

As James went out of the classroom and up into the common room, he deeply regretted not stealing that ampoule of gillyweed and swallowing it whole. That way, he could spend the rest of his days in the black lake with the merpeople. I bet amortentia wouldn't smell like anything down there, he thought.

For the rest of the week, James spent every waking hour trying to not think about what Slughorn said and what it meant, and he was succeeding. He kept himself busy with classes, Quidditch and even homework. He also did his absolute best to avoid everyone. He ate before anyone else and made sure he was far away from the great hall by the time he knew Y/N and the rest of the Marauders would go down to eat. In classes, he sat very distant and left early. He even pulled some pranks he didn't even feel like pulling on Filch to get detention in the nights he couldn't schedule Quidditch practices. He walked the halls in the invisibility cloak. Anything to keep his thoughts away from the big fire alarm going off inside his head. The only problem was that he missed Y/N in all of those moments. When he was doing homework, he missed the sound of Y/N's pen scratching the parchment next to him. While he ate, he missed the warmth of her body next to his, the satisfaction humming while she ate her pie . He missed laying down together after homework. He missed seeing her on the stands at practice. He even realized that the real fun in pranks wasn't the actual thing, but to see Y/N laughing hysterically afterwards. To put it quite simply, it felt like he was sleep walking all the time. He couldn’t go on avoiding her forever, but what he was gonna do, he had positively no idea.

Until Friday night.

It was late, and he had been in detention. Filch had made him write “I shall not turn the school’s trophies into pigeons” a hundred times, and his hand was hurting from all the repetitive writing. Normally, he would have complained, but this time, he was glad for the distraction. Enjoying detention, he thought bitterly while crossing the fat lady, I must be really going mad. His grouchy thoughts were interrupted by a sound. It sounded like.. crying. Or better yet, it sounded like someone was sobbing their heart out. He looked around the empty common room, but didn’t see anyone. He followed the sound to the sofa near the fireplace, where he and Y/N always rest after studying. Before you turned into a chicken.

Y/N was laid on the sofa, her face buried in a cushion, her whole body shaking with her sobs. James was flooded with panic.

- Y/N, baby, what happened? - he cooed, his voice altered with anxiety. Y/N never cried, except when something very serious happened.

Y/N looked up like she thought she was seeing visions.

- Jamie? - her voice was soft and shaky, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot red, like she had been crying for multiple hours. The hurt on her eyes broke James’ heart in a thousand pieces.

His mind raced with possibilities: maybe someone was mean to her? Maybe someone died? Maybe she was hurt? The thought of her being in pain panicked him even further. He sat down and pushed her into his lap, laying her head on his shoulder.

- Are you hurt, baby? Where does it hurt? Please, tell me.

She cried violently on his shoulder. He inspected her legs for bruises, but she seemed well physically.

- Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this - he begged. - Did someone hurt you?

The question seemed to trigger something on the girl, because suddenly she was on her feet, out of his arms.

- Did someone hurt me? Seriously? - the tears streamed down her face, but her eyes glimmered with something new: anger.

James was confused, to say the least. He noticed that she was wearing one of his old sweaters, one that had vanished from his suitcase a few weeks ago.

- Baby...- he begged some more.

She looked as if he had twisted a knife on her wound.

- Don’t you dare “baby” me, James. Not after ignoring me like the plague for a whole week!

Oh. Oh. James had been so involved with his own confusion regarding the amortentia incident that he forgot almost completely that Y/N didn’t know what he was doing, or why. She was crying because he hurt her feelings. That was a lot worse than if she was crying because of another person: he could’ve gone out to kick said jerk’s ass. But if he hurt her, what was he supposed to do? Punch himself?

-Y/N - he cooed, apologetically. - Y/N, I…

She showed him her palm, urging him to stop talking.

- You don’t have to explain wanting to be away from me. I’m sure you had your reasons. But you could have at least told me that you wanted some space from me, or something, because I’ve been miserable, and…

She thought he wanted space from her. The sorrowful shaky breath that escaped her lips mid-sentence threw him over the edge.

- No, no, no… - he repeated while pushing her back into his lap - Oh my god, Y/N, no…

He caressed her hair while she sobbed violently on his shoulder. Her fists were closed tightly on his shirt, her tears dampened his neck, and he couldn’t recall the last time his heart ached this badly.

- Did I do something? Did I bother you? I’m so sorry.. - she whispered softly, like she was voicing what had been repeating in her head over and over again during the last few days. Her words were laced with anger, resentment, but, above all, hurt. He wanted to double over in pain.

- Listen - James lifted her chin up gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. - I’m the one who’s sorry.

The tears kept coming, but she was listening.

- I shouldn’t have avoided you last week, and it’s not your fault, okay? It’s my fault. I’m the one who got scared.

She looked confused.

- Scared? Of me?

James would have to confess what happened at Slughorn’s class. He had given zero thought about his messy feelings, and even though unraveling them in front of Y/N scared him endlessly, he would have to do it, because he could never let her think that he wanted space from her. That he wanted anything but to be close to her, at all times, if he could.

- Please - she asked, incisively, noticing his wariness. - Tell me.

He took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable, raw. As if he would undress himself fully in front of her.

- Remember Slughorn’s class about amortentia? - Y/N nodded, encouraging him to move on - He asked me to smell it, right, and I…

- You said it smelled like broom polisher.

- Well, yes. But I lied. - he decided to avert his gaze to the ceiling, or else he would never talk. - It was caramel pie and vanilla cream. So, I smelled… you.

Silence. A moment, two. He couldn’t muster the courage to look at the girl. He felt her hand grazing his cheek, urging him to look at her..

- Jamie… - She looked wonderstruck, and his heart seemed like it wanted out of his chest - Really?

- Really.

James was sure he’d never seen something as beautiful as Y/N after his response. She was smiling the biggest, most shiny smile he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes shined like gemstones at him, so soft he wanted to cry.

- Do you want to know what I smelled? - she asked, soft as a feather.

His heart somersaulted when she brought her face closer to the side of his neck. She whispered on his ear:

- I smelled… - She sniffed his neck once - Sandalwood - another sniff, followed by a chuckle - Broomstick polisher…

She distanced herself, looking deep into his eyes.

- And homework parchment. And fireplace naps. And figgy pudding.

His heart was hammering against his ribcage. Y/N smelled him. On the amortentia potion. Him.

- Y/N - James whispered, all warm and fuzzy on the inside. - Really?

She didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin overwhelming his senses. Placed his hand on top of the point of her chest where her heart was. Through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel her heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. She never unglued her soft eyes from his.

She likes him. Suddenly, all the thoughts he had been avoiding throughout the week came crashing down on him, like a dam.

James was an affectionate friend. He liked physical touch. But he never liked it half as much as he did with her. James was a thoughtful friend. He remembered things about his friends. But he remembered every single thing about her. He was a sensitive friend. He hated to see his friends suffering. But every time he saw her cry, it was like his heart was being crushed. James was an attentive friend. He loved spending time with friends. But when he was away from her, he couldn’t even function properly, like he was missing one half of him. Y/N is his best friend. But she is more, too. He loves her. But there’s something else: he is in love. Amortentia never lies, after all.

When his hands tangled on Y/N’s hair, he smelled vanilla cream. When he kissed Y/N’s lips, he tasted caramel pie.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #amortentia #the marauders x reader #the marauders era #the marauders #fluff #harry potter imagine

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spdrvyn · 2 months

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WHY DON'T WE CALL IT FOR WHAT IT IS? — [ post-atsv. spider-reader. wc 1.4k ] you and miguel are dating in secret. neither of you are a fan of pda, so he shows as much as he can in private.

Your participation in the Society recently was bordering on mediocre. In your defense, your other job has been keeping you occupied. Of course, living with Miguel still means that you can see him a lot. A privilege that the other measly spiders can not afford, but you.

However, Miguel was on another strike mission in a never seen before spider dimension. From the details he told you, it was a world blanketed in snow and ice. It required very specific agents to accomplish and knowing him, he volunteered himself to go with too.

Once you were free from your shift, you anxiously waited near the console. Only occasionally leaving to grab a snack and go to the bathroom, as each minute passed the more nervous you became.

Miguel left early in the morning, bidding you farewell with a kiss on your forehead that you were still way too groggy for. It was late in the evening now and there was no sign of him or his team.

Your mind started to wander, passing scenarios of what you wished could happen once you finally saw him. You would leap at him with your arms spread to prepare for his warm embrace, you would pepper kisses all across his handsome face and he'd flush under the attention. Unfortunately, you could only dream that would happen.

As much as possible, both you and Miguel have been trying to keep your relationship private. Not for any life-threatening or intensely serious reasons, but it was for both of your comfort. You liked the intimacy that came with keeping everything private, knowing that whatever you had between each other was just for you. Miguel thought the same, he was the one who suggested it after all.

Still, that fact hindered you. Your jobs and his entailed long nights away from each other and when you finally reunited or even had more than ten minutes to just be, you couldn't act on your true desires because you would be in the eyes of other people.

"Hey. A dollar for your thoughts?" Margo chimed, her iridescent hologram brought a soothing glow to the dark oranges and yellows of the console room.

"Isn't it a penny for your thoughts?"

"Well, they've had to up the prices. You know, inflation." You couldn't tell if she approached you because she noticed how deep in thought you appeared to be or if she too was riding on waves of boredom. Nevertheless, a distraction would probably help.

"Who are you waiting for exactly?" Margo turned her back to you for a second and flickers on her own screens, nearly in the same fashion Lyla does. Only they look more purple as opposed to dandelion.

"Miguel. He wanted to talk to me about a - progress report and I think the mission he went on overlapped with that meeting."

She chortled at your hesitation, the sound increased when you mentioned your reasoning. "I didn't know he did those kinds of reports. You must be special, huh?"

"They're, uh, you have to ask for them."

Over time, you were able to develop a skill where you can pull any sort of lie out of your ass. That was mostly because you used to only be interrogated by Peter B. (he still does it) and he was pretty easy to shut down. Ask about his daughter and all of that, crisis averted.

But this was different. It was a teenager you were talking to, if you were her age in her position right now, you would also be trying to pry as much as you could and tell all your friends about what you heard.

"You asked for it? You're stronger than me, for sure."

Miguel isn't that bad- No. Miguel can be professional about it- No. Miguel is my boyfrieeeend- No!!

"Gotta build that emotional endurance too, you know?" You lied through your teeth, this was your true emotional endurance test. You just prayed that literally anything else could happen so that you could move on from this point in the conversation.

That was when you saw it. A miracle. A message from God. That familiar vortex of colors, that familiar bright red arm blade.

"Well, speak of the devil. Good luck with your meeting!" Margo remarked before she webbed to another side of the console, she looked busy. Maybe trying to look busy.

Miguel looked a little worse for ware, and so did the spiders following behind him. You glued yourself in place to keep from immediately checking for any injuries, but you're confident that the look on your face completely gave you away.

When the portal closed, he swiftly faced his team. "Good work on the strike mission. Make sure to get some rest in before sending in your reports. Contact me, Jess, or Peter if you need anything else."

What he intended as a compliment or two sounded slightly tense coming out of his mouth, you were a bit of a long-standing Society member so after The Spot happened, you could tell he was trying more at boosting morale. Even though his scowl and tone of voice sort of eradicated the kindness in what he actually meant, you found it cute that he tried anyway.

Everyone quickly dispersed, some left in pairs, some hopped into a portal straight to what seemed to be their home dimension. From where you were standing, you could see Miguel's shoulders sag in relief. His mask dissipated to reveal his worn out mug and he immediately turned to walk over to you.

You could tell he wanted to fold. Leave all of today's remaining problems to the Miguel of tomorrow, crawl into your loving embrace, and lay in dormancy until he would meet his fate again.

"Miguel," You initiate. "Is it time for my meeting now?"

There was no meeting. He probably had no idea what you were talking about, but he did at the same time. His steely, jaded disposition gave way to the warm, homely lover you have always known. He nodded, the moment you two stepped inside the apartment, he hugged you.

Over the course of your relationship with Miguel, he had taken you out to a good amount of luxurious fine dining restaurants. You were always extremely grateful, especially since he would refuse to let you pay even by a little. He's introduced a lot of new options and in return, you'd show him around the good food spots in your city too.

Yet, nothing could ever compare to a slow, home-cooked meal with just the two of you. Everything felt so intimate that way, you didn't have to worry about public appearances. Many meals being dished out with both you and Miguel in your pajamas.

Tonight was no different, of course. Miguel seemed more sluggish this time around, but you didn't mind picking more work than usual. You would have cooked for him yourself, but you had a feeling that he'd fight you for that.

Dinner had fallen into a comfortable silence this time, your relationship has gotten to the point where there was no obligation to make conversation. Sometimes, Miguel would burst into drawn-out rambles about how his day went and you'd listen intently. Except now, he's too tired to even speak.

After putting the dishes away and performing night routines, a movie in bed would be the perfect conclusion to such a peaceful night.

Nueva York was colder compared to your city, you complained about it to him multiple times so now Miguel usually keeps more than one blanket on the bed now. Honestly, you said it because you liked being snug in his arms when you slept with him. Not in that way.

Miguel's head rested on the column between your shoulder and neck, he weighed you down onto the memory foam mattress with a leg over both of yours and his arms snaked around your torso.

From your peripherals, you could see him gazing up at you. His attention stolen by your face, merlot hued eyes that traced every line, curve, and detail.

"Migs," You smiled back at him. "What are you gawking at?"

Bashfully, he turned his face inward with the hint of a grin at the upturned corners of his lips. It made your heart pounce, the idea that you especially had the privilege of seeing him so tender and shy.

No psychic could have foreseen you living your life like this right now, the same could be said for Miguel too. You didn't force him into this, batter him down to be all soft and mushy. It was because he knew, he finally knew from the way you stayed and loved him through the thick and thin, that he was finally safe and those walls crumbled.

The warmth from his kisses travelled all the way up to your ear. There, he whispered to you a promise, a declaration.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

awwww!!!! miguel!!!!!! anyway hii, been a while since i've uploaded a proper fic so here it is! i hope you guys enjoyed this one because i had a lot of fun writing it :-)

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #x reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #fluff #romance

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ezher · 6 months

Note

OMG IM SO GLAD SOMEONE WRITES MALE READER I BE STRUGGLING TO FIND THEM

can I request the sbg crew with a big brother figure who's like a year or two older then them?

Have a great day 💖

Father Hen

Gender: Male

Genre: Fluff with angst

Summary: a daily life with m/n who has to take care of his juniors!

Additional details: M/n has a license and rides a motor.

Warnings: Character death(the reader),swearing, also not really character death he “dies” in phantom world

A/n: I hope i made it to your liking (TvT)

—————————————

The first time the crew met m/n was when he volunteered to keep in watch of a group during their trip in savannah. He heard that they’ll give extracurricular points to whoever volunteers, he didn’t hesitate volunteering. And so he introduced himself to them.

It would be a lie if he said he didn’t have a fun time. They went to all kind of attractions and tried some local foods, he insisted on paying the food despite being almost broke. Though sometimes he had to deal with Aiden wandering around unconsciously. He had to keep him on guard because he might get lost. Another is that Tyler and Aiden keeps bickering with eachother.

Now to the sorrel weed house, he noticed how off Ashlyn acted. Constantly covering her ears and she looked tense. Out of instincts he went and asked her if she’s alright, she was about to reply when she looked horrified while looking behind him. He looked back and immediately looked away, wtf was that thing?!

Ashlyn seemed shock when she noticed he can also see it. He was about to question her when Logan looked scared and told us to look from behind. He did and boy..when I tell you that thing’s mouth stink as hell. Once it moved he quickly pushed Ashlyn behind me before it felt like the world shifted and it disappeared. He didn’t notice the throbbing pain in his arm and worried about Ashlyn more. After that they left the house and went to the motel they were assigned to go after.

He thought he was just hallucinating until I woke up to screaming from the girl’s ran and quickly ran over there. That thing was back and it tried to attack them. They formed a plan before quickly distracting the monster so that the others can escape in time to the next room. The monster was catching up to him before Ashlyn told him to move away and shoved the cart to it, Aiden being the maniac he is picked a spray bottle before spraying it.

That kid was playing with death because he suggested that they can probably fight them all. The whole situation was a mess and stressful, Tyler had an outburst after because Ashlyn didn’t tell the others about it. His hand was throbbing in pain from before but thankfully Ben knew how to patch people up because of Aiden, not much of a surprise..

Ashlyn suggested that they should take turns on keeping the place guarded, m/n being the responsible person he is suggested he should go first so that they can sleep. He was a bit surprised when everyone gathered around him and slept beside or on him. Said that they can sleep better knowing someone can protect them.

When he woke up he expected to wake up with everyone surrounding him but he was on the bed in the motel, in his room with Logan,Tyler,and Ben. Immediately he felt dizzy and vomited in the bathroom, not good..

He lied to the teachers that it was probably something they ate yesterday and went back home. He thought it was just gonna be a one time thing until it happened again but he woke up in his bed. After that he confronted the group about it and got added into a gc so that they could communicate better.

Slowly he started hanging out with them more, often at lunch or study sessions with them. Considering he’s in a higher grade he won’t be in the same classes with them but him and the others make an effort to meet up. As harsh to admit but the group was much more fun to hang out instead of the group with kids in his age. And although he felt like a mother Hen taking care of it’s chicks. He enjoyed their company nonetheless.

The group warmed up to him and often call him “brother/big bro” as a joke since he’s older. They would often go to him to either hang out,annoy him,or rant to him about their problems. Even though he’s older, they get protective tendencies with him. So does he, mess with him then you mess with the group as well. One time when he found out Logan was getting bullied by Barron, he got suspended because he decided to beat the shit out of Barron. The group visited him at his house to hang out with him.

He love those idiots and they love him. He’d do anything to protect them, heck even if he risks his life. They matter to him more than anything, and he can’t fathom what would happen if they get hurt. But…it’s also a problem for him.

‘Fuck it’s catching up, at this point it will get us..!’ He thought while riding his motorcycle, he watched the jeep infront of him trying to lose the centipede phantom. He looked to his right and noticed deserted field with large rocks ‘That’s it!’

He quickly sped his motor up and caught up with the others before driving beside Ashlyn who looked scared and worried “Ashlyn i need you to keep moving forward, don’t look back!”

Ashlyn looked at him with confused and worried eyes “What? Why-what about you?!”

“Just keep going, I’ll catch up!” He slowed his motor and went to the deserted filled before trying to catch the phantom’s attention using his motor “HEYYYY, OVER HERE!!! RIGHT HERE, COME AND GET ME FAT ASS UGLY SHIT!!!”

The others looked at m/n with worry in their eyes, Taylor tried to persuade Ashlyn to go back for him and convince him to with them instead. Ashlyn stayed quiet, not bothering to wipe her tears as she watch m/n basically doing some that is considered suicide. Tyler and Ben had to hold Taylor so that she won’t try and get out of the moving vehicle. Ashlyn watch from the back view mirror as m/n hurriedly drives away with the centipede running after him. Logan watched with horror in his eyes as he watch a friend he considers as a brother, deal with a phantom centipede on his own with a high possibility that he’ll die.

“M/N, M/N PLEASE RESPOND TO US!!!” Taylor shouted, currently the others were in the deserted filled looking for m/n. Aiden looked at Ashlyn who looked worried and guilty, guilty because she abandoned m/n despite yelling her to never look back.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine.” Aiden tried to comfort her until he heard Taylor let out a worried call for m/n and running to a direction. The others watch in horror by the scene, m/n covered by rocks probably because of the phantom. His head was bleeding, he was bleeding everywhere. His eyes looked lifeless, body was limp with no sign of movement at all. The others snapped back to reality before helping Taylor move the rocks from m/n. Ben hurriedly tried and patch up m/n before he could lose any more blood. He checked for a pulse, it was faint but still there they still had a ch-

Seven hours was up and everyone hurried looked at m/n whose eyes were wide, iris was block and his body was shaking and trembling like he was having a seizure. They quickly informed their parents and took him to the hospital where they treated him.

A few hours went by and the others were worried, Ashlyn had explained the situation to his dad and the other parents. The other parents had a hard time believing but due to how serious and angry Tyler & Taylor looked like when they yelled at them, they decided to believe them. They were discussing what they should do to help them until they heard nurses scurrying into the lobby.

“I need to and find-guys!” M/n yelled at the group, Taylor being the first one to stand up and tackled him into a hug. The others following suit, Taylor cried the most. Ashlyn cried too which was surprising but m/n quickly comforted her. He stood up and noticed that m/n’s parents was there looking-well..glaring at him.

He walked towards them before looking at the ground in shame, he was about to apologize until his father engulfed him in a hug “You should’ve told us..we would never judge you.”

His mother following suit “Oh my sweet boy, you must’ve been so scared and afraid..”

He sniffled before breaking down, allowing him to release all the pressure and stress he’s been holding up throughout the situation. All they had to do now was deal with the phantoms..

#school bus graveyard #sbg #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard x male reader #sbg x reader #sbg x male reader #ashlyn banner x reader #ashlyn banner x male reader #aiden clark x reader #aiden clark x male reader #ben clark x reader #ben clark x male reader #tyler hernandez x reader #tyler hernandez x male reader #taylor hernandez x reader #taylor hernandez x male reader #logan fields x reader #logan fields x male reader

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yournightmary · 3 months

Note

you should write something where reader is a primary teacher, and ellie is a volunteer/fill in music teacher :D they meet and romance happens or something (i’m bad with words 😀) <3

Play Date | E.W.

content warning:: fem!reader, I guess dealer!Ellie but not really?, bad writing

AN:: not proofread because i’d rather shoot myself than read my own writing. I’m so sorry if it’s bad but i’ve tried my best😔 also no idea hot to tittle things

Whoever told you that being a daycare volunteer is a good idea was wrong- on many, many levels may I add.

You always thought that kids were just cute tiny humans but that changed with your first day at the daycare in Jackson. Most of the kids were boys, there were maybe three girls total. And you never even took into consideration that fall just started, so did every kind of colds and sicknesses possible.

What’s worse than a snotty, nasty seven year old boy tugging on your shirt with his grimy hands? A whole room of them. You only took this job because Maria asked you to. She said something about you ‘wasting your potential by going on patrols’. And by potential she meant the fact that you can read, write and do basic math… sometimes.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You pushed the door of the daycare building open, furrowing your brows softly at the scratchy sound they’d made. It was almost winter, thankfully. Maria said you wouldn’t have to work once the snow falls, something about patrols not going out as often in bad weather. You shrugged off your jacket, hanging it on the wooden coat rack.

Before you could do anything else you’ve heard a knock on the door, immediately rolling your eyes in annoyance. You took your sweet time getting to it, muttering profanities under your breath.

“Daycare isn’t open until 7:30, sorry.” You opened the door with a sigh, your tone as cold as the outside air.

“Uh- Maria asked me to help you? She said to come here after 6:00 but- I uh, overslept.” Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the girl before you.

Ellie Williams. What the actual fuck?

You stared at her in disbelief, finally noticing the guitar in her hands. She scratched her neck nervously, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.

“You gonna let me in?” You slapped yourself mentally, stepping away from the door. She walked in, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’.

Ellie placed her guitar against one of the many chairs, curiously looking around the daycare. She traced all of the drawings on the walls, wondering about the stories behind each of them.

“Why did Maria want you to help me?” You asked her after a while, sorting through all of the pencils and sharpening dull ones.

“That’s a funny story… I did something she didn’t like and this is my punishment, I guess- not that I don’t like you! I’m just… bad with kids.” Ellie stumbled over her words a little, looking everywhere but at you.

“Well, what did you do?” You raised your eyebrow, even if she wasn’t facing your way. You sighed softly before adding. “And don’t worry- this feels like a punishment to me too… and I volunteered.”

Ellie snickered before circling around some tables and sitting down next to you, grouping all the pencils by color and placing them in their assigned little boxes.

“She found out I was dealing.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, though you could hear the nervousness in her tone. “Weed, you know? Said ‘I’m corrupting Jackson’”

“Shit, you’ve been dealing?” You unintentionally raised your voice, turning your head to look at her with furrowed brows. She raised her head slowly, nodding with an anxious expression. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? I felt bad for nagging Dina and she didn’t want to tell where she gets it from.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped as she looked at you baffled, the pencil she was holding almost falling out of her hand.

“I didn’t know you smoked, sorry.” She muttered, not expecting the way you reacted.

“I don’t look the part, huh?” You looked down at your clothes, the white collar peeking out of your beige sweater and your brown pants cuffed nicely, even if it exposed your ankles to the cold winter air.

Ellie shook her head to the sides with a chuckle, taking the opportunity and looking you up and down. After a moment in awkward silence she spoke up, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“So why don’t you go on patrols? I mean, you’re really smart and stuff. You could be useful.” The way she said it sounded almost like an invitation, raising her brows slightly while glancing at you.

“Well, Maria said that I’m too smart for patrols. That I’ll be more useful as a teacher.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at the memory.

“That’s a shame… There’s this spot on one of the routes, you can see whole Jackson from there.” Ellie frowned softly, smacking her lips in disappointment.

You hummed in agreement, understanding what she was getting at. Maybe once winter comes Maria will let you go on a patrol with Ellie, just maybe. You placed a few sheets of paper in front of her, handing her a black pen.

“You can draw, right? Make some coloring pages, I gotta clean up before the kids come.” You said with a smile while standing up from the little table you were sitting at, not waiting for her answer.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The kids came in earlier than usual, the room filling up an hour after you opened. After some discussing Ellie decided to take care of the arts&crafts corner, playing a song on her guitar whenever she got a request while you taught the older kids how to multiply. You couldn’t help but steal glances at Ellie, looking away quickly when her eyes meet yours.

“Miss, why are looking at Ellie like that? Do you like like her?” You hushed the girl with furrowed brows, your cheeks burning slightly.

“Keep your eyes on your paper, Maya.” You muttered, tapping your finger against the worksheet you prepared for her. Why were kids so nosy?

You glanced at Ellie only to find her already looking at you, rolling her eyes annoyed. You giggled quietly, nodding your head in agreement. You quickly made sure everyone understood their assignments and walked over to Ellie, a smile appearing on her lips once she noticed you.

“How’s it going? Any troublemakers?” You asked jokingly, looking suspiciously at every kid with a smirk. Almost every one of them shook their head, letting you know they were on their best behavior.

“They’re all good, don’t worry.” Ellie said with a smile, admiring the way you quietly praised the boy who showed you the drawing he made today.

“That’s good to hear.” You nodded your head, stepping away with Ellie to a more secluded place. “They’re usually so much worse, maybe you’re a good influence.”

“Tell that to Maria.” Ellie snickered, tucking her short hair behind her ears. She scrunched her nose, glancing at the kids a little disgusted. “One of them sneezed into his hand and then grabbed mine though, have you ever thought about teaching manners?”

“Thank you so much for that idea, I’ve never thought about that!” You said sarcastically, pointing your finger at her while nodding your head. “But seriously, I’ve tried. They just don’t care.”

You sighed in defeat, dropping your hands to your sides. Ellie hummed in acknowledgment, looking at the kids coloring the drawings she made for them earlier.

“You play beautifully, by the way.” You nodded your head awkwardly, the words leaving your mouth before you could even think about them.

Ellie blushed lightly, biting back a grin that was threading to spread across her lips. “Thanks” She muttered quietly, looking away from you sheepishly.

She opened her mouth to add something but was cut off by some kid calling your name, asking you to help them with something. You shot her an apologetic smile before getting back to your space, leaving her with a bunch of prepubescent boy that already had teasing smirks on their faces, ready to poke fun at Ellie.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You waved goodbye to the last kid, their parent giving you a grateful smile. You closed the door with a sigh, turning around to face Ellie. She was ready to leave, guitar in one hand and the kids’ drawings she received in the other.

“Can I walk you home?” She asked quickly, looking at you with a hopeful expression. You nodded your head with a smile, putting on your jacket.

“So, how would you rate your first day here?” You locked up the daycare building, stuffing the keys into your pocket.

“Well… it wasn’t bad. I thought it would be much worse.” Ellie hummed, walking right beside you. You bumped your shoulder into hers, smirking softly.

“I gotta say- you being there made it a lot better than usual… and I’m not talking just about the help.” She looked away sheepishly, unable to stop her lips from curling into a smile.

You walked in comfortable silence, stealing sneaky glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Your hand brushed up against Ellie’s, making her gasp softly.

“Wow, you’re freezing.” She grabbed both of your hands into hers, standing in place. She rubbed her palms against the back of your hands, trying to warm you up.

“Yeah, it’s really cold today.” You giggled nervously, your cheeks heating up at her touch. She kept her grasp on one of your hands, swinging them softly between you as you walked. Smooth.

After a few minutes you finally got to your house, a little bummed out that your little trip is over. You stood before your front door, looking at Ellie shift from one foot to the other. She sighed, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“How about I pick you up tomorrow? We could walk together.” Ellie suggested, taking a deep breath between her words. She rocked on the balls of her feet slightly, waiting for your answer impatiently.

“Okay.” You nodded your head with a grin, your hand resting on the doorknob. Ellie’s shoulders relaxed almost immediately, her own lips curling into a smile.

“Alright, cool… does 6 sound good?” You hummed in agreement, your eyes locked onto Ellie’s.

You stood there for a moment, in awkward- but not negative- silence. Ellie tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, breaking the eye contact by looking around nervously. You took your chance, standing on your tip toes and pecking Ellie’s cheek. She froze up, her eyes widening. Fuck, did you read it wrong?

“I’m sorry- I dunno why I did that.” You started apologizing, waving your hands around. Ellie grabbed both of them, shaking her head to the sides.

“It’s okay! You surprised me, that’s all.” She tried to hold back her smile but failed miserably, her ears and cheeks turning beet red. “I’ll uh- I should head back.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded your head, sighing in relief at Ellie’s words. You gave her one last smile before walking into your home, closing the door softly.

You really hope the snow won’t come soon.

I HATE THIS SO MUCH IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT😭

#the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #lesbian #wlw #ellie williams #ellie williams headcannons

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anothermansjeans · 5 months

Text

Closer

a.h x f!reader

cw: some slight angst (blink and you miss it)

wc: 1k

prompts

a/n: hiiiii!!! this is based on this request! sorry for taking a bit, i've been swamped with homework. i have one more in my inbox but im still taking requests! you can uses any of the prompt lists linked or just send me any request you have!

Hotch had a problem. He didn't necessarily want this problem, but he also didn't want to fight it. He had started to develop feelings for his coworker– who is also his subordinate– Y/N.

It started pretty recently. The team got back from a case and he told Jessica he would need her to watch Jack for a couple more hours. Unfortunately, that couldn't work for her, so he asked if she could talk to the babysitting agency and get someone in before she left. All was well when he last heard from her, and he was told that if they can't get someone out, they'll call him.

That’s why when his personal phone rang, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering “this is the one time I’m wishing they’re calling about my car’s extended warranty.” Alas, he picked up the phone and saw it was the agency he used, and they couldn't get anyone out this late in his area. He was so frustrated, he wanted to cry, which was more common than not recently.

After hanging up, he was so lost in his head, preparing to head out and take his work home with him (he never liked doing this, too scared Jack may see something he shouldn't). He didn't realize his door was opened the entire time, and he certainly didn't realize that Y/N had popped her head in with a mildly concerned look on her face.

“Hey, I was just heading out… are you okay?”

He jumped the tiniest bit, and looked up at her. “Uh, yeah. I’m actually leaving too.” He stood up and grabbed the pile of files in his desk, preparing to shove them in his briefcase, when he looked up for a millisecond to see the confused look on her face. “Jessica can't watch Jack for the rest of the night and there are no babysitters available this late of notice. I have to bring work home.”

Hotch didn't know what to expect from his oversharing, but it definitely wasn't the next words out of Y/N’s mouth. “I can watch him!” He looked at her. She looked at him. Y/N suddenly laughed to herself and shook her head. “Sorry, I meant to say if you need me to, since I’m already heading out, I can watch him until you're finished up here. I know how you feel about bringing those files home.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“You're not asking!” She promptly cut him off. “Trust me, Hotch, I want to do this for you. The sooner you say okay, the sooner I can go relieve Jessica.”

He numbly nodded, putting his briefcase on his desk. “Yes, thank you. I owe you for this. I’ll let Jessica know and I promise I won't be too long so that you can enjoy the rest of your night.”

And it was that simple of a solution. He did his work, you watched Jack, and when he got home, he was able to witness you putting his kid to bed. It was sweet (beyond sweet, really), and since then, whenever the team got back from a case and he needed extra help with Jack, Y/N would volunteer without being prompted. He loved seeing the little moments Y/N had with Jack, so much so that he would sometimes come home a little early (he could survive the extra work on a night Jessica was babysitting) and offer to have Y/N stay for dinner, which turned into bedtime for Jack, and then a little wine after he was asleep.

He didn't know when the feelings began to develop exactly, but once he noticed the excitement of going home to not only Jack but also Y/N, well he wanted to put a little bit of space between them. He wishes it was a gradual thing– really, he does– but he kind of just started declining her offers, making sure to book a babysitter hours (sometimes days) prior so that there were no issues with someone watching Jack. He hadn't taken into account what Y/N would be feeling about this shift, and he wasn't sure why he was so surprised when she marched into his office after a case; a time where they would normally arrange for her to watch Jack.

“Did I do something? Did I hurt Jack, or offend you, or literally anything wrong?”

“Excuse me?” His head whipped up from the papers under him.

“We had a routine. Something happened to disrupt the routine. I just need to know what I did wrong.” She looked sad. That was something Hotch didn't see on her often.

“You didn't do anything wrong.” He placed his pen down and stood up, closing his office door and standing in front of Y/N. “I have this problem.” He didn't know how else to state it, but he had to say something now or she’d think that his problems are her fault (and he would say a hundred times over that this was never her fault). “I don’t want to feel things for you but at the same I have this need to be near you 24/7.”

Eyes wide and deep breaths, the only thing Y/N could utter out was “what?”

Hesitating, Hotch stepped a little closer. “After seeing you with Jack and spending more time with you I…” he scoffed and shook his head “this is so juvenile.”

“Keep going, please.” Her response was quick. She needed him to finish.

“I want to be near you all of the time and I got scared of that– we work together, I’m your unit chief, I shouldn't be feeling things the way I do so I just… I pulled away.”

The silence was suffocating for the minute Y/N took to digest all that was said, but after what felt like years to Hotch, he felt her hand tentatively touch his, gently raking her nails down his palm before interlocking their fingers. “You don't have to… pull away.” The shy look was turning into one of awe. “We can… be around each other more often. See what happens. If you want.”

Maybe Hotch didn't have a problem. He felt a warmth spread through his body at the mere thought of being closer to Y/N, to seeing what happens with them, to a future. He definitely didn't have a problem.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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kneazle · 3 months

Text

Tommy didn't think much of it as he rushed into the hospital's emergency room barely out of his flight suit, having just hit the locker room at the end of his shift when he got the call. A nurse calling to inform him that his son was being treated after a fall. Hearing your son didn't register until he was at the desk asking about Chris– his brain automatically knew who the nurse was talking about when he heard the words.

He was fidgeting standing there waiting as the man behind the desk looked up where Chris was. Tommy knew he only got called because Eddie and Evan weren't around, having volunteered to help out a few cities over with a massive fire while Chris stayed over at a friends until his dad came back, but there were other people he could have called—any of the 118, or Carla for example—but Chris told them to call him and told the nurse Tommy was his dad.

Tommy's head was spinning.

He and Evan were together for a year now and Tommy's spent time with Chris at least once a week for the past few months and he knew he was liked, that Chris supported his relationship with his second dad and jokingly called Tommy his step-dad once, but this? Tommy had to blink back tears when he finally was directed to the right area. For years he longed to belong somewhere, secretly wanting a family but never saying a word not thinking it would ever happen for him– now thanks to Evan and in extension Eddie he had genuine friends, the 118 welcoming him back in as if he never left, and his heart filled with joy anytime he was welcomed into the Han or Diaz's homes like he was a part of them.

"Chris!" Tommy let out a sigh of relief when he saw the teenager sitting on the gurney down the hall, the doctor looked to be finishing up giving Chris fucking stitches on his arm as a woman Tommy vaguely recognized as his best friends mom, having met her only twice– once at Chris's birthday party and then another time when Tommy had to pick him up from school.

"I'm okay!" Was the first thing out of his mouth, the doctor took a step away as Tommy moved to sit beside him, grabbing his arm to inspect it and noticing the scraps before his eyes drifted to the cut open jeans that were dirty and slightly bloody.

"What happened?" Tommy asked, gaze going between Chris and the mom– Diana he thinks.

"We were at a ice cream place by the beach and there were these big rocks piled all over the boys wanted to explore and Chris said he could handle it and he's better at knowing what he can handle then I could possibly–" Diana rambled on in one breath, looking anxious as if she expected Tommy to yell at her or give a lecture. But he knew that would be Eddie's call if he wanted to, Tommy's priority was to make sure Chris was okay.

"Other than the stitches it's just scraps and bruises," Chris told him.

Tommy breathed out and wrapped an arm around Chris, kissing the side of his head in a move he'd seen Evan do before. Usually it wasn't something Chris welcomed much anymore he was told, but the teenager leaned into Tommy instead of pulling away. Strings pulled at his heart at the warm weight against his side.

When they settled in at his and Evan's house–that used to be his and was now equipped for Chris should he need it and a bedroom just for him—Tommy finally asked. Chris sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with him on the floor, first aid kit beside him as he cleaned the cuts on his knees. Chris didn't want to be in the hospital anymore than he had to and asked if Tommy could clean them at home. It didn't escape his knowledge that this house was considered home to him too.

"Hey Chris?" Tommy asked softly, only continuing when he looked at him. "Why did you tell them I was your dad? You could have said I was an uncle or something instead."

Chris smiled and put his hand on Tommy's shoulder, "Dad didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Tommy said carefully, blinking up at Chris, taking his eyes off the scrap he just put a band-aid on.

"Dad put in my file that if he and Buck aren't available, you would be the next person to contact, as my other dad."

He said it so nonchalantly that it almost flew over Tommy's head. He froze and swallowed to push down the lump growing in his throat. He blinked to starve off his watering eyes. "You–"

"You and Buck aren't going anywhere," Chris shrugged. "You care for me like Buck does, dad and I love you just as we love Buck."

Tommy felt his resolve break in that moment as years of feelings and yearning shoved so far back came to the surface—and healed at Chris's words—neither of them said a word to anyone about it as the two hugged and tears fell.

Two days later when Buck and Eddie came back, the Diaz men opting to stay the night, Tommy pulled Eddie into a crushing hug that had the other man grunt before returning it. All three men and teenager made makeshift beds in the living room like they've done a few times for movie nights. Tommy found himself tucked against Evan's chest, one arm curled around holding him while the other rubbed circles along his back as if to soothe the mountain of emotions he'd been feeling– Tommy felt so much love for this man. It was obvious to him by his actions that Evan knew without Tommy having to say a word about his feelings.

Waking up in the morning Tommy was still against Evan's chest, but there was a weight that wasn't there when he fell asleep. Eddie who was beside him had turned around at some point, his arm thrown over Tommy with his hand resting over Evan's hip, Eddie's front against his back with his face buried between Tommy's neck and shoulder. He could smell food coming from the kitchen, the pre-made breakfast burritos being heated up it smelt like, which meant Chris was already up– and getting breakfast ready for all three of his dad's Tommy thought with a smile.

He let his eyes drift close for a few more minutes not wanting to move from the warmth and comfort surrounding him. Tommy curled more into Evan's chest and Eddie made a grumbling groan from behind him at the movement, pushing himself closer until Tommy was completely between the two. Amusement began to sink in at the thought of what they must look like, thankfully none of the 118—especially Howie—weren't here to take a picture or make fun. But Tommy– he didn't care if it was weird to anyone outside this house. For the first time in his life Tommy felt completely and utterly loved, by the two men holding him as they slept and the teenager who solidified Tommy's place as family by calling him dad.

#this can be taken as platonic buck/tommy/eddie or not your choice #in the middle of writing the chris chapter for my fic and this came about #tommy kinard #christopher diaz #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #kinley #911 fic

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slash-me-please · 1 year

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can I request you an alpha!thomas x omega!reader?♡

Omfg i wrote something!?

Volunteer Work

For a moment you had thought of going back home. The cold breeze during such a dead night had kept you on your toes, looking over your shoulder- looking for something. The walk to the Hewitts was just as dead as the night, nothing but old roads guiding you to their dilapidated mansion- you should've told your folks no, having been offered up as some kind of half-hearted help, as they couldn't find it in them themselves.

It all started when you and your mother stopped by an old gas station near your home, and she handed you a few crumbled dollars and told you to give it to Miss Luda-Mae at the counter. "Just take whatever she'll give you, we need to get home soon." She spoke to you, waving you away and out of the passengers seat. You stumbled out of the car, shutting the door behind you with an attitude your mother would ignore. With that you walked yourself over the dirt pathway, lifting your sundress slightly and ignoring the lingering looks from a gang of bikers. Then when you opened the door, it should've rang, but it seemed the bell had broke between now and the last time you had been here.

You released a sigh of disappointment when at least three of those bikers had been in line already, Luda-Mae arguing with one of them about the price of gas- although this had to be the only gas station in town, so there were no ongoing rates. The two of them ran about for a bit, before the man gave up and the line moved after what felt like five minutes. As expected, the door opened once more for your mother, a scowl on her face as it seemed you took too long. She walked over to you, as soon as it was your turn to talk to Miss Hewitt, and she huffed at you with an annoyed glance.

"Hi Miss Luda, how are you doing today?" You smiled, flattening out a five dollar bill against the ridge of the counter as you conversed. "Busy day, these bikers were raised with no respect. Makes 'em harder to deal with- insults to their mamas." She responds, looking over her glasses at you. "I completely understand, this one here always has something to say. This- that- my momma woulda' hit me." Your mother interjects, snatching the money out of your hands to give to Luda. "We ain't got much, just seven dollars on... One? Yeah, One." Luda nodded. "Thomas is like that now, he's getting older and-" her voice lowers, "All them ruts alone are getting to him." Your mom shakes her head in understanding, her eyes shifting to you and you laugh- pushing her away. "Actually, Y/N, if you're interested, he just built this little dresser for his room- and he's talkin' about painting it but he ain't patient enough to paint the darn thing. I think he would appreciate if you helped him out some time soon." She continues, looking over to your mother. "Of course she can! She'll be over tonight, ain't got nothing else to do."

And that's why you're walking over to the Hewitts after dark, speed-walking down the side of the road. After a while you reached their home and familiar smells welcomed you. Luda-Mae always smelled of cigarettes, She was a respectable beta woman, living with a shifty beta man. You'd only met Charlie a few times, he'd wink at you then and there, he smelt of rotting wood. There was something off about that man. Then there was-

"Thomas! I didn't see you there," You yelped, stumbling back a few steps as he emerged from behind a tree, axe in his hand, previously doing lawn work- probably. His eyes moved down your body, admiring your sundress, only to nod at you. "Your mother said you needed some help painting your dresser?" He nodded again, dropping the axe at his side and beginning to walk towards his house. When he makes it up the stairs and you don't follow, he turns to you and gestures up to the door- as if to say "let's go."

You follow him through his house and into his room, the white paint and brushes on the floor catching your attention. He looks almost ashamed of the outcome, strokes of paint coming from every direction and some of them hitting the wall- you release a breathy laugh. "I can fix it, don't worry." You tell him, but he still looks disappointed. "I wish I could build like you, must be a good quality- yknow- for the omegas 'round here." He shakes his head no immediately, watching as you sink to your knees and begin to brush the paint against the rough wood. "C'mon, last week I saw you talkin' to one of those bikers that are always hangin' out with Luda. She had those bright eyes and enthusiastic too- that's all an alpha could want." He shakes his head no again, this time seemingly annoyed and you drop the subject.

For a moment you two sit in peace, and even though the paint is strong his scent seeps into your skin, leaving you practically dizzy. You realize you shouldn't have done this in his room of all places as the heat builds and starts to soak your underwear. He practically tastes it too, and he rests his head back against the wall, hands balled into fists. "You like it?" You ask, setting the paintbrush down on the floor. His head snaps up, eyes wide until he realizes you're talking about the dresser and he nods. "Im only half done, but I'm tired, I'll finish it for you tomorrow?" And he agrees, walking over to help you off the floor.

When he grabs you, your head spins and you inhale more of his thick smell unintentionally. It makes you whimper in the heat of the moment and his eyes narrow at you. "Sorry- my knees are hurting." You stutter, pushing your hair away from your face. "Can you bring that outside? It's getting kinda congested in here." He nods again, and you're not sure he's even listening to you as you begin to say your goodbyes.

"I gotta get going but maybe I'll be back to finish this tomorrow?" And he nods once more, his arms opening a bit to invite you into a hug- one that you took eagerly. Thomas' arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, keeping your face pressed against his scent gland. And he held you there. Your self control was not apparent today, legs squeezing and rubbing together immediately. He stumbled forwards, trapping you against the wall and adjusting his arms around your waist so he could place a kiss against your bare shoulder. You buried your face further into his neck, a low whine on your tongue as you began to lick at the thin skin on his throat. "Alpha?" You purred. His fingers twitched against your back in a display of unwanted self control, one that had your omega whining once more.

His throat rumbled, he was pleased at your reactions- a heat spreading through you that he smelled and wanted. Thomas lifted you up, his strong arms carrying you over to his bed, just to lay you down in his heap of pillows. His sheets smelled of him- sweat, caramel and power, it make you keen. As you basked in his scent, he made his way with your clothes. Yanking down your sundress, he gifted unspoken praises to your body as he noted the lack of a bra. His hands made quick work of you, calloused hands rubbing against the soft, thinner skin of your nipples with an admiration your last lovers hadn't given you.

His scent had gotten stronger by the minute, seeping into your body and melting your brain into a puddle of mush. You couldn't help yourself but to pull the edge of your sundress up, exposing yourself to his greedy eyes. His grunts of approval music to your ears, even moreso when you pulled his unoccupied hand to your drooling pussy. He held a sharp breath within, dipping a finger into the heated hole he'd soon bury his knot inside. His left hand moved from your nipples to your throat, holding you down as his right began to thrust in and out of you, thumb rolling over your throbbing clit. "T-Thomas!" You moaned, wrapping your smaller hands around his forearm, leaving it covered in thin scratches- none deep enough to scar. His fingering began quicker, pulling you to a high end before you wanted- but your begging for his knot convinced him not. "Alpha! Please god!" Grinding against his hand, that would eventually have your end. With a loud whine, you came on his fingers, and he retracted. His mouth immediately moved to his belt, undoing the clasps and pulling his cock out and pulling your recovering body to the edge of his bed.

Pressing a kiss to your sweating forehead, he entered you fully. And soon he began to thrust inside of you, your walls singing happily, head craned to the side presenting an unmarked throat to him. Which he'd take your offer, listening to you worship his title as his canines punctured the vent of your skin, mark fresh and bleeding. Your arms wrapped around Thomas' chest as his thrusting sped up and you heard whispers of "Omega," under his breath as he filled you with his seed as you finished underneath him. He began to slow, but didn't stop there until you released a sleepy whine into his chest, eyes closing with a rumbling purr.

#slasher x reader #horror x reader #slasher x reader smut #smut #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x reader smut #leatherface x reader #leatherface x reader smut #leatherface

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fanwarriorfictions · 4 months

Text

Help Me, Help You - Part Two

Fenrys x F!Reader

Summary- Embarking on their journey, Y/n and Fenrys slowly start to learn a little more about each other, to Y/n’s utter annoyance.

Warnings- none

Series Masterlist

Part Two

Y/n follows the golden male, her own pack strapped to her back. Only the essentials, clothes, weapons, and gold, if she needed anything else she could buy it along the way.

They walked for what felt like eternity, the road was well worn into the forest floor, coated in dry fallen leaves, winter would hit here soon. The wind held that chill, bringing it from the northern point of the continent, a familiar feeling on her skin.

The nearest port city would take them nearly another whole day to walk to, and who knew how long after that to get passage to the southern continent.

Y/n had been half tempted to shift and run to their destination, but she stuck to Fenrys, after all she’d sought him out for a reason. As night soon approached, Y/n found herself walking closer to the male’s side. Her brother had told her many stories of the creatures that lurked in the shadows.

“So,” Fenrys says, breaking the long silence they’d fallen into, “If you don’t mind me asking, where’d the cat form come from? Vaughan is the furthest thing from feline.”

A question she’d heard most of her life, one she dreaded deeply.

“None of your business,” Y/n says, and there’s a bite to her voice that she can’t hide.

“No need to get testy, kitten.” The nickname had stuck long after they’d left that little village to her utter dismay. “Just trying to get to know my new partner in crime.”

She glares at him, “We have different fathers, that’s all you need to know.”

It was the simplest version of the story, the only one she was willing to share.

“See was that so hard?”

The male is grinning at her, the expression pulling uncomfortably on the large scars that adorned the side of his face, from his brow to his jaw, just barely missing the onyx eyes that examined her just as closely as she did him.

“Why’d they send you out to look for him?”

Fenrys raises that scarred brow, “I volunteered.”

She hums, looking back at the path before them. The sun was starting to set, turning the sky a deep orange.

“We’ll set up camp here,” Fenrys says, taking his small pack off his shoulders, “Start the fire and I’ll find us something to eat.”

He didn’t give her any time to respond, shifting in a flash into a brilliant white wolf. Y/n took a step back from the to large creature, her heart leaping in her chest.

Her brother had told her of the Moonbeam twins, of their opposite colored forms that could tear men in two with a simple snap of their jaws. She didn’t want to find out what those teeth would feel like around her throat.

The wolf stared at her, a knowing look in those onyx eyes. He turned, darting into the woods, leaving her alone, leaving her to figure out how to start a damn fire.

It didn’t take him long to hunt down a few rabbits, Fenrys was already on his way back before the sun had turned the sky a deep purple.

He’d expected to find a small fire, not Y/n glaring intently at a bundle of sticks and some dried leaves. She clutches another small stick in her hand, holding it tightly enough that it bends beneath her grip.

“I don’t think you can threaten it into starting,” he says, “Though I’d sure love to see you try.”

She startled, looking up at him with wide eyes, her posture rigid, like she was ready to bolt. It takes her a second to really look at him, to realize he’s not a threat, before she relaxes, turning her glare back on the little pile of sticks.

“I can’t get it to start,” she says, throwing that poor bent stick down on the ground.

“Staring at it isn’t going to help,” Fenrys laughs, “Do you even know how?”

Her glare shoot up to him, snapping, “Yes.”

The way she says it, the harsh tone, the self conscious edge to it, tells him that, no, she doesn’t know how to do it.

“What? No one taught you any survival skills, kitten?” Fenrys asks, “I would’ve thought dear old brother would have at least shown you the basics. He always was the outdoorsman of the group.”

Y/n doesn’t snap back like he thought she would, only glares back down at that little pile, as if she could will the fire into starting.

Fenrys sighs, kneeling down in the dirt beside her, taking one of the larger sticks into his hand, placing the slightly sharp edge against one of small pieces of tree bark. Using both his hands to turn the stick back and forth, pushing down with each turn to create more friction. It only takes a few moments for the bark to start smoking, and then a small flame catches, spreading to the dried leaves packed around it.

Fenrys glances at the female beside him, those keen eyes watch his hands closely, like she was trying to memorize the motions.

She seemingly feels his gaze, her eyes jumping up to meet his own, he sees the embarrassment as soon as it hits.

“I haven’t left home much,” she explains, “No one saw fit to teach me.”

She shifts uncomfortably beneath his gaze, so Fenrys looks away, turning his attention to their dinner. He sees her watching in his peripherals as he prepares the the little creatures to be cooked. Her eyes are intently on his hands, watching each cut of his knife. Fenrys takes his time, slowing the motions down, silently teaching.

Fenrys throws the meat onto the fire, “I don’t know much about your brother if I’m being completely honest.”

“Not many do,” Y/n answers, those eyes still on the roasting rabbit, “He’s always been very private, even at home.”

“And where’s that?” Fenrys asks, “Home?”

Finally, those keen eyes look up, lit up by the fire, they look even more cat like than usual.

“North,” she says, quietly like the information was a secret, “A very small village in the Cambrian Mountains.”

Fenrys wouldn’t ask the name of the village, it’s likely he’s never even heard of it, “How’d you get so far from home?”

He didn’t add the fact that she didn’t know basic survival skills, yet the narrowed eyes tells him she heard the unspoken words.

“I traveled much in my other form,” she explains, “The Oakwald Forrest Cats are well used to the cold.”

With the long thick coat he’d seen, it wasn’t a surprise.

“I knew I’d recognized that cat,” Fenrys says.

He’d seen them near Terrasen, yet he’d never seen a fae shift into one. Though many of the fae of Erilea had been long hunted down, the few that remained, the ones he’d found to help them, there hadn’t been a cat among them.

“A gift from my father,” she says blandly, an edge to her voice like the last time he’d asked about her family. Seems her father was a sore spot for her, he tucked that knowledge away for later.

He hums, turning the stick holding his dinner to roast the other side. She did the same with her own, staring into the flame intently for several long minutes.

There was a familiar look in her eyes, one he’d seen in his own many times, like she was lost in a memory, lost in the emotion it came with.

So Fenrys took his dinner from the fire, nudging her own towards her, “Eat up.”

Without even looking at him, or looking away from that spot in the fire, she took her food and ate silently, methodically.

Once she was done, she shifted in a bright flash, curling into a small ball by the fire, her back to him. A clear statement, I don’t want to talk.

He knew the feeling all too well.

They arrived at the small city just south of the Naval port around midday, far quicker than she expected. Fenrys had gone to the docks to look for passage, leaving Y/n to wander the city by herself.

It wasn’t much, yet it was bigger than what she was used to, louder too. There was many voices, vendors hawking their goods, children playing, musicians singing and dancing to music played on improvised instruments.

Overwhelming, Y/n could only stare at it all in her cat form. Moving through crowds and over high beams, dodging hands that reached to pet her soft coat, hissing at to curious people who tried to grab her.

“Here, kitty kitty kitty,” a voice behind her, familiar and annoying.

Fenrys stood there, the human crowds parting around the obviously fae male. He was smiling devilishly at her, holding out what seemed to be a piece of ham from the wrapped sandwich in his hand.

She hissed at him, swatting the offering.

“Awe, come on,” he coos, “Don’t you want a treat, kitten?”

A man walking beside them fell straight on his ass when Y/n shifted, growling at Fenrys.

“Stop calling me that.”

“What? It suits you,” he leans closer to her, drawling out the word, “Kitten. Hey!”

He yells as Y/n rips the sandwich from his grasp. Turning on her heel to stalk away from him while she took a pointedly large bite.

“That was mine,” Fenrys whines, catching up to her in a few strides.

“And where’s mine?” She asks with a raised brow, taking another bite.

“I asked if you were hungry earlier,” Fenrys sighs, throwing his hands in the air, “You’re the one who said no.”

Y/n shrugs, “What’d you find at the docks, anything?”

Fenrys sighs again, turning his gaze away from his stolen sandwich to glare at the sky. That wasn’t good, Y/n thought, they’d be stuck here for weeks waiting for a ship to take them across the sea. Vaughan could be well on his way to the other side of the vast southern continent, and she’d never find him.

“Nothing?” She asks, lowering her hands from her mouth.

Fenrys moves quickly, snatching the lunch from her, “No, actually we leave in the morning.”

She gapes at him, “That was-“

“Mine actually,” he cuts in, biting directly where her mouth had just been, “Did Vaughan not teach you to always keep your guard up either? That was like taking candy from a baby.”

Y/n snarls at him, and Fenrys just laughs. She tries to grab it from him, but the male just held it high above his head, far far above her own.

“Oh quit with the hissing, kitten,” Fenrys laughs, “I’ll get you your own, we need to stock up for our trip anyways.”

“Quit calling me that, you oaf,” she snaps.

Fenrys smirks, patting her head with his free hand once, snatching the hand back as she went to swipe at him.

“Quit reacting so much and maybe I’ll stop.”

She doesn’t respond, only bearing her teeth at him, to which he only laughs, turning on his heel to saunter through the market. Y/n quickly realizes he wasn’t going to wait for her, assuming she’d just follow.

Swearing under her breath, she did just that. Jogging to catch up to the male, who still had that insufferable smirk on his lips as she settled into step beside him.

“I thought you were going to sit there and pout all day,” Fenrys says.

She was half tempted to claw at his smirking face and give him a matching scar on the other side.

“You owe me a sandwich.”

He laughs, “Someone’s mean when she’s hungry. Good to know, I��ll pack extra snacks.”

“Shut up.”

They spent a several hours traversing through the vast city markets, stocking up on dried meats and cheeses that would hold well on the trip down to the southern continent. Once their bags were packed to the brim, they made their way to the ship, where they’d spend the next few weeks. It was set to leave first thing in the morning, so they hadn’t bothered to find an inn to stay the night in.

Fenrys had been relieved to find a ship that would take them, let alone one that was headed straight to the continent. And in his time on ships, he could say this was one of the nicer ones he’d been on.

The owner was a merchant, one that traded in silks and thread, he claimed to have tailored for Hasar herself. Knowing the female, Fenrys highly doubted she would let the sniveling man anywhere near her.

Fenrys had more than enough gold to pay for the trip across the sea, and enough to splurge on a private room away from the shared hammocks below deck.

He dropped his heavy pack onto the small desk by the door, falling face first onto the small bunk pressed against the wall with a satisfied groan. Fenrys appreciated the gentle sway of the ship beneath him, mostly because it was about to take him far away from this suffocating continent.

Behind him, Y/n quietly shut their door, carefully arranging her bag onto the opposite bunk, much more refined than his careless approach.

Fenrys turned his head just enough to see her. Either she didn’t notice his gaze or didn’t care, her focus stays on her bag, on the clothes she dug out. She methodically arranged her items, something Fenrys noticed she did a lot, she’d done it that morning when they packed out their little camp, later in the market when she stored away her things. Like there was something soothing about the repetition, like it calmed whatever was happening in her mind.

Fenrys would like to learn something similar, if only to stop the endless thoughts and emotions that, even after several months, still ran constantly through his head.

Her eyes finally turned to him, catching his stare. Suddenly he felt like he wasn’t meant to be watching, and the embarrassment of being caught had his cheeks darkening. There was really no reason for it, it wasn’t like he’d been watching her change.

“I’m going to go freshen up,” she says casually, her eyes not missing the blush, “Don’t miss me to much.”

She moved to the door, and Fenrys found himself tracking the movement, pushing up to rest on his elbows. She moved silently, like she always did, that feline grace that would put the silent assassins of the red desert to shame.

“I miss you already, kitten,” Fenrys sighs dramatically as she opens the door.

A hiss, a slam of the door, and she’s gone. Fenrys smiled to himself, settling back into his bunk. The gentle sway of the ship had him yawning before to long, the somewhat comfortable bunk didn’t help either, compared to the last few sleeping arrangements it was like laying on a cloud

As he drifted off to sleep, he saw keen eyes watching him, directly through his mask of confidence and swagger, staring into his soul, broken and dark, yet not seeming to care. Fenrys could only stare back, wishing he could see past her own shields.

Tag List

@emma-andrea

#sorry for the long wait #your girl has been busy and sad #not good for writing #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #fenrys tog #throne of glass fenrys #throne of glass x reader #throne of glass #tog x reader #tog

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