#I know people like to have certain foods over the holiday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chelseasdagger · 9 months

Text

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains.

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too.

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips.

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too.

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

#new writing record WOOO! i just couldn't shut the hell up :)#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fic #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal fic #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fanfic #chelsea writes

607 notes · View notes

14thgalerie · 1 year

Text

tell me why

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: dangerous by madison beer

• word count: 3.3k

• genre: angst, fluff (barely)

— based on this request, i hope you like this one even though i'm pretty sure this isn't what you had in mind huhu. i tried to find a way to go about this prompt that isn't all cliche and was written before.

Projects given over the holiday: written and set aside in a matter of six hours.

Every crevice and corner of his room is now spotless.

A game of quidditch with Lorenzo with his siblings.

And that’s the entire list. He has finally run out of things to do, yet the sun remains shining brightly outside. What was supposed to be an uneventful day had turned out to be quite a hectic one. An accidental glance at the desk that sits below the tall windows ruined the extraneous effort he had gone to in order to forget about a certain envelope or rather someone.

An entire day has already passed since his owl dropped by to hand him a single envelope. After taking a glance at the sender, he couldn’t bring himself to open it right at that instance.

In all honesty, he has absolutely no idea as to why he is avoiding opening it; well maybe he does know, and maybe it’s the reason for the dread that kept stirring at the pit of his stomach. The last time he heard from you was at the Hogwarts Express before you completely cut off contact with him.

It’s been an entire week now since the holiday break started, the same amount of time since he received a word from you, something that has never occurred. Your fights had never lasted for longer than necessary— a day would be the worst of it because he despises it whenever people make matters worse for themselves by ignoring one another. But despite his great hatred for it, he doesn’t feel a single thing except for the urgency and desperation that you answer him.

So, he doesn’t understand why you suddenly shut away from him when everything has been going great. One moment you were all snuggled up to him in the compartment you shared with your friends and then not a single word from you from the hundreds of letters he must’ve sent by now.

The sound of knocking pulls him from his thoughts.

“Hey Theo, I left some food for you here if you’re awake. Mom also set aside some medicine if you’re not feeling well, she’s worried for you.” He hears Lorenzo at the door trying to talk to him, unsure if he is even being heard by Theo.

Silence fills the room as Lorenzo leaves, thinking that he’s still asleep. Looking at the yellow ribbon that wraps around the envelope, he reaches out and takes hold of it for the first time since he last dropped it.

Pulling the band with a sense of uneasiness, he sees that it doesn’t have anything special on it, just your name at the front and numbers at the upper left corner. Pulling out the paper— wondering if the little doodles that always accompanied your letter for him would be there, but he is left frowning at the blank edges. Flipping it open, he laughs out loud at the naivety of believing it will be any good before he is choked by the lump that formed in his throat.

Let’s break up, Theo.

I’m a coward to do this over a letter, I know. I won’t blame you if you’re mad at me. I have been constantly depressed at the thought of doing this. In the weeks leading up to when I am writing this, I have been incessantly living vicariously through the memory of us.

I know it’s too much to ask after doing this to you, but please never talk to me again. Don’t ask. I won't be able to explain to you, not when I still don’t understand it and how I’m feeling.

Goodbye.

You wonder if he’ll ask. You wonder if you will ever tell him. How you will explain, how you might run away instead. It’ll be an answer enough to satiate the questions that barrage through the doors of your mind without warning.

Theo was lying in his bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to move when your body is deprived of sustenance; nor food or sleep is enough. So he lays there in the forced darkness from his drawn bed curtains, body more still and cold than a dead body 6 feet underground.

He couldn’t handle another day of hiding behind the old facade of indifference. At first, it was easy. He heeded your wish of keeping his distance even if every atom in his body begged to be near you. Saving the most painful, physical sobbing in his solitude. He was fine just seeing you be there; alive and breathing.

As the days lingered on, however, it wasn’t enough. Not when you have deprived him even of that one simple thing. Disappearing from every class you’re sharing only to find out you have requested to attend another class.

He didn’t have the energy to keep up with that charade anymore. Letting himself wither until he’s only a nutshell of the man you’ve built in the ruins of his past.

He had, in every sense but physical, become a ghost, drifting between the phases of the day without a sense of time. He relies on his day-to-day life by moving on autopilot.

He doesn’t know what he did, he begs to know because he cannot go on another day like this.

“Theodore Nott!”

His attention is called away when he hears a booming voice beside him followed by the bright light that showers over him as the curtain of his canopy is pulled open. Not a care if the man wasting away hours behind it will be mad at her.

Pansy only knew one thing: she would not have her best friend lose every prospect in his life because of both of your lack of communication. She couldn’t give a damn if you will ever manage to resolve your issues. For now, Theo is her priority and he needs to stand up and study.

She had already managed to fix you up enough to have you up and functioning, although a mere ghost on legs. But that will do, now for this man who is at the grunt of your problems.

“Stand up and go to the library.” She pulls the blanket which barely covers him, and throws it someplace. “You are going to fail your NEWTS at this rate.”

“Who cares?” He drawls out. Turning to his side to cower beneath his pillows.

“Your future does.” Knowing that he will never stand at his own will, she gathers every bit of strength in her to pull him by his arms.

“Gods, Pans. Can you just bugger off and leave me alone?”

He tries to wave her off and turns to slide beneath the welcoming arms of his bed. But before his face plants onto the soft, strewn fabric, he is pushed and pushed until they are greeted by the long, grimy corridor outside their common room. His bag full of books was thrown out the door after him. With his lack of energy, all he can do is follow her demand.

Hoping that this will distract him.

Theo trudged towards the library, dragging his feet behind him. Maybe the tranquil ambiance could be a soothing balm for his aching heart. Make him finally focus on other things in his life, knowing that whatever reason you may have, you would never wish that he put his studies on hold.

Theo chose a table tucked away in a quiet corner, where he could fully immerse himself in his books and thoughts. The flickering candle lights atop the wooden tables, weathered by the countless students that passed through Hogwarts, had added a comforting touch to his isolation. Casting dancing shadows on the polished surfaces.

This worked for about an hour and a half until he realised he had forgotten his advanced Potions book in his other bag.

Surrounded by towering bookshelves, Theo began searching for a copy of the book he’s missing and some other texts that might be helpful for his NEWTS classes. As he reached a particular shelf that contained the very books he was looking for, he couldn’t help but overhear snippets of a conversation, the hushed tones barely above a whisper.

“-Theodore?”

He decided to walk away, thinking the conversation private, when his attention was caught by the mention of his name. He wasn’t able to catch the question but he was intrigued.

With a furrowed brow, he furtively strained over the tiny slot in the shelf he pulled a book from to see two familiar faces opposite him, unaware of the person with wide eyes that locked in on one person.

As if on instinct, he dwindles at the sight of you, like a cord being pulled out of its socket, his body going back on autopilot.

He almost slapped himself in the forehead for not recognizing your voice sooner, but he wonders. Why had you appeared so sullen and gaunt? Would it have to do with him since you mentioned him? He leans back on the shelves awaiting to hear more, wondering why you were supposedly that way when you have been acting like nothing had happened between the two of you.

“We’re not together anymore, Luna.” You say in a dejected voice. Seeing it written on paper hurt, but nothing could compare to the anguish that invaded him at hearing it from you, feeling hopeless to the constant sharp pain on his chest that wrenched deeper into the wound.

“Is that why he’s been staying by the Ford Bog recently?” Luna unassumingly asks, curious.

“What?”

“When I come by to feed the Thestrals, he is always there talking to them.” He hears Luna explain. He hadn’t known that Luna had been coming over to see them also. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers that, like him, she had also witnessed her mother’s death.

“Oh.” You must be thinking about what he confessed to you when you found him in a similar situation back in the fourth year.

“You miss him.” From the manner that Luna says it, it was less of a speculation and more of a fact. “I do.” You confess.

This makes him confused. His brows knit together as he tries his best to piece together the words that slipped from you in a way he understands. You had been the one to break off your relationship suddenly, without a word of explanation. But now you sit there, admitting you miss him after you ask him to keep his distance. He is tempted to turn the corner and ask you.

“But you constantly run away from him?” Luna asks for him instead. She follows it up with another question. “You broke up with him, right?”

There was a pregnant pause before he heard your voice again.

“Yes, I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I was scared that he would do it sooner or later and I didn’t want to experience the pain of hearing it from him first-hand. So then, I decided that I would do the job for him.” You explain.

He is left stumbling back at the accusation, knowing within himself that it would be the last thing he would do in a million years. Ever, actually. What spurred this idea from you? He finds it incredibly insulting that you would think he would.

Luna asks why you think he’ll do that.

You say after a moment’s pause, “He’s been hanging out with this new friend of his before the holidays, and at first I didn’t care because I trusted him. But she just-” Your breath hitches, “She began to be more flirty and provocative with him and he didn’t even blink an eye.”

You take in a sharp breath. “I know he would never do it, and he probably didn’t even notice but I don’t know…”

His subconscious blocked out any of what followed after that horrid confession. Memories came in sudden assaults on his brain and senses. He doesn’t like how uncertain you sounded: he doesn’t know why you would think twice of his actions.

Truth be told, he did indeed notice the weird affectionate manner in Scarlet’s approach to him. Frankly, he didn’t care and settled to ignore her in order to avoid conflict as she was a friend of Mattheo. Putting her in the back of his mind and that would be the end of it.

He always knew that you had this fear that he would leave you for another, this is provoked more by his terrible past with women before you. But he never thought it would be a problem for your relationship as he constantly did his best to remind you that it was either you or nothing at all.

Though he couldn’t exactly blame you, even now as he sinks into the cold stone ground, he was stupid to think that ignoring Scarlet would suffice.

Sitting on the cold, hard floors with his head in between his hands, digits tightly clutching his hair. He doesn’t hear Luna excusing herself from your session, leaving you to clean up to prepare to leave. Stuck in the confusing labyrinth that his mind wandered off to, he didn’t notice the gentle footsteps near him, trying to avoid the librarian’s wrath.

“Theo?”

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Still not a thing from him. You become concerned.

“Theodore? Are you alright?”

You find yourself forgetting the very promise that you had even asked Theo to uphold— to never approach you. But despite your stern resolve, the sight of Theo sitting in the library corner, his distress palpable, throws it all out. Instead, the nagging fear that if you're the source of his evident turmoil.

“Theo.” You crouch down in front of him, keeping your hands nestled to your lap.

He didn’t even lift his head— you weren’t sure if he was not acknowledging you or that he simply didn’t notice you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it. Your feet are itching to run.

“I’m sorry.” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he was not in good condition. You’re confused as to why he’s being like this.

But somewhat you knew. Your heart pounds relentlessly against your chest. You knew what he was going to say.

“What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. Eyes plastered intently on the creaking floorboards. “Scarlet.”

When he speaks it into existence, you dislike the way you flinch, the familiar bitterness spreading throughout your body. Your heart drops into the pits of your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry.” Theo’s voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes were becoming blurred by the veil of his tears, bearing a weight that seemed almost unbearable. “Fuck, I’m so so sorry, Y/N.”

The lump in your throat threatened to suffocate you, leaving you on the brink of despair unable to respond properly.

“It’s my fault. I never know when something upsets you. I hardly know you better than how I’m supposed to.” He says it like he means it. Theo says it to himself more than he says it to you.

The world slows down to an adagio, and you’re caught up in the emotion that washes over you at his condition. Theo is rarely dishevelled; he’s hardly all over the place. If anything, he has always been quite proper, the opposite of the man in front of you.

You say his name softly, your gut tightening at the heart-breaking sight in front of you. Hesitating to reach out and hold him close to you. So you reach out to wipe away the lone tear that slides down his face.

“Merlin…I should be the one saying sorry.”

“What?” He finally pulls him together enough to reply to you coherently.

“It’s not you. You’re not the problem.” Your subconscious running at a millimetre per second to come up with the right words to amend his words. Finding this a bit harder than you expected. “I am so broken that my body is just encased in this eternal itch to run.”

“When I saw how you were so unconcerned about Scarlet’s obvious attempts, I panicked. I let that fear get the best of me, letting it poison my mind. I was afraid that one day you’d begin to reciprocate her attraction. Maybe you would have been happier with her. I was terrified of losing you, and when the holidays came, I grabbed the chance to cower back and let it consume me. I didn’t wanna hear you confirm that hellish thought.”

“What changed?” He croaks out. “Why are you telling me all this now?”

“A big part of it comes from my conversations with Mum. I kind of forgot that she never really sides with me when it comes to my irrational decisions and she’s always been the one to make me realise it.” You feel the urge to laugh at the thought, but you restrain yourself.

“And by heaven’s will, I want you to be happy but the need to be your happiness far outweighs that.”

But he does nothing but remain seated silently, nothing in him revealing that he plans to move. And you are terrified, for once you had no idea what was going on inside his head but you know that you had to let him think on his own. To stop assuming and making decisions off of it.

“You, you are a great deal of a headache to me. I have spent days questioning myself; was I so horrible that I couldn't even be granted the decency to be broken up to my face." cried Theo.

“No you weren’t, Theo. I promise you.”

“I know I’m not. Yet, you still made me feel like it. I was happy with you, you were my lone happiness. I think it’ll be awhile before I forget this, despite what you confess.” He says, his voice choking up now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady.

“Is that true, Theo?”

“But as upset and tired I am, I still love you.” He acquiesced. “It’s laughingly pathetic how I am still entirely yours.”

He stopped short, his hands that rested on his lap emerging to take yours in its grasp. Their grip is a perfect balance of a strong hold and a gentleness.

“And I love you too, I don’t think I ever stopped. I promise you that I’ll work on myself, make things right between us again, because I don’t think I can go on for another day like this.” You said, sworn with a conviction so strong.

He shook his head and to that you feel the disgusting worm that whispers to you appear, “No. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” But it’s crushed under his pretty foot.

“I promised you then that I wouldn’t leave you to face whatever problems you have on your own. When I confessed to you ’I love you’, it meant that I would continuously be by your side to help you with your troubles. Our troubles.” He reminds you. “We’ll fix this together from now on…nobody is doing things solo.”

He tugs on your arms, telling you wordlessly to sit beside him. When you do, by habit and longing, your head moves to rest on the juncture of his neck inhaling the scent you missed most.

Nothing felt better than to have the urge to have your head resting on him be satisfied, he wanted nothing more than to feel something as mundane as this.

As he leaned his head on her temple, you felt giddy, feeling yourself turn tomato red at the action. It was a happy time, in spite of the things that remained to be talked about, so happy that you couldn’t dare to disturb it with anything.

“Y/N…” He breaks the silence.

You hum.

“Did you ever dream about me?”

“I thought about you.”

Only a soft squeeze to your hand serves as a reply.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

787 notes · View notes

trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

eddie x fem! reader

masterlist

w/c 7.8k

summary: things heat up in more ways than one for the roommates, thanksgiving makes everyone thankful.

warnings: NO MINORS, language, fighting, mentions of child neglect, mentions of murder

a/n: thank you to my beta readers: @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean pls check out their work they are both so amazingly talented 🩵 thank you to @blueywrites for screaming with me on certain parts of this story + @fracturedarkness for helping me plan future parts for this series.

again— I’m no longer doing a tag list for this series— this week as really opened my eyes to a bunch of shit in this world and I’m fucking pissed off about it.

“Do you think it’s enough food? Last year Mike ate all the mashed potatoes so I’m just hoping there is enough for everyone.”

The holidays were always a stressful time for most people, housewives stressing over meal planning, guest lists and matching outfits for their Christmas cards—ones that coordinated well and hid the fact that they were miserable with their lazy, limp dick husbands. Poor Nancy fell into that category all too well.

She’s walking circles around her dining room table, counting the dishes on her fingers. Ham, turkey, cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, corn, green bean casserole, a relish tray, strawberry fluff, gravy, two pumpkin pies, two pecan pies, a jello mold, two dozen caramel Rice Krispie bars, a pan of iced banana bars, and one can of jellied cranberry sauce on a crystal plate.

When Nancy asked you to join the Wheeler/Byers/Hopper’s gang for thanksgiving this year, you quickly accepted the invitation, asking if there was anything you could bring. She requested you bring the dessert. So the night before Thanksgiving, you started the tedious task of keeping Eddie from eating all the icing and caramel.

“Eddie! Have you seen the caramels I just bought? They were on the counter next to the flour canister.”

“Nope! Haven’t theen ‘em,” he answers all too quickly, “you thur you bought ‘em?”

“Yes I’m su—,”

Goddamn him.

Walking into the living room you approach the metal head, splayed out on the couch, fingers shoved in his mouth picking at his teeth, “oh Eddie?”

“Mhmm?” He hums, innocently, looking at you with big doe eyes.

“You wouldn’t happen to have caramel stuck in your teeth, the same caramel I bought and said, ‘please don’t eat these they’re for the Rice Krispie bars,’ would you?”

Rose colors his cheeks, “what? Me? Not listening? Ok O’Donnell,” he says with a scoff.

“Eddie,” you say sternly, hip thrown out and arms crossed over your chest.

“Ok! Fine! They were just so fucking good! But I’m dying right now— my teeth feel practically glued together— do we have any floss?!”

“Nance, I think there is more than enough here, you and Jonathan will have leftovers for weeks, months possibly.”

Fretting, Nancy wipes her fidgeting hands on her apron, “I just want it to be perfect— you know how I am.”

Type A, that’s how she was.

“It’ll be perfect, Nancy,” Jonathan agrees, coming up behind her and holding her around her small waist, “just like you.”

Scarlet heat accentuates her rouged cheeks. “Ok ok, no kissing the cook just yet,” she says, peeling herself from Jonathan’s arms, “can you and Argyle set the card table up in the basement?”

The turkey almost melted like butter on your tongue, the gravy was rich and savory. Karen’s cheesy potatoes were creamy and the crunchy cornflakes on top were to die for; the entire meal was delicious. The labor of Nancy’s love for her family and friends showing through her craftsmanship of amazing cuisine. You hadn’t seen Karen or Ted since the wedding, being the closest thing to parents you had, you were ecstatic when Karen joined you over the hot water and soapy sink, washing the china plates.

“So sweety, how have things been going lately? Nancy said you have a roommate?” Her tight blonde permed curls shaking behind her as she scrubs the pot used to make the gravy.

Drying the freshly rinsed dish, you answer with a coy smile on your face, “I’ve been good, doing better than I have in a while, yeah, I have a roommate, uhh Eddie Munson.”

“Oh Mike’s friend? He always was so kind to him, taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes in high school,” she looks at you then, her lavender eyeshadow catching the light over the sink, “I’m happy you two are dating.”

Dating.

Dating Eddie Munson.

Scenarios fly through your mind, Eddie holding your hand at the movie theater, him behind you—his chin resting on your shoulder helping you play video games at Arcade Land, watching him write songs and play his guitar, kissing his lips sweetly, deeply— moving down his neck, his chest. His fingers on your thighs—

You’re sweating.

Head dizzy and full of visions of you loving Eddie and Eddie loving you back dance in your head.

“W-we’re not dating, just—”

How would you describe your relationship with Eddie? Roommates? Friends? Waiting for him to kiss you?

“—friends,” you say, enunciating the word slowly, rolling it off your tongue.

“Well,” Karen says, a hidden smile on her knowing lips, “I’m happy you two are just friends.”

Friends.

Such a complicated word. Because you and Eddie were more than that, but definitely not dating. The tension between you was electric, and sometimes jarring, but you went to bed thinking of him every night, hoping he would just open the door to your room, slip beneath the sheets and hold you while you dreamed.

[Two weeks prior]

The morning after you had comforted him, you woke up alone— his side of the bed still warm as if he had just gotten up. Sleeping so soundly you weren’t sure what day it was, or the time. The alarm clock on your night stand said 7 o’clock but that couldn’t be right. You and Eddie had both slept for over twelve hours, the comforting kind of sleep that lulls babies to sleep, gentle, sweet, pillowy dreams in one another’s arms. Getting dressed for work, you slip a pair of jeans on, and change into a long navy blue cardigan, headband to match. Lacing up your converse, you open your bedroom door.

Eddie’s in his room getting dressed for work when you find him. Knocking on the opened door gently, you poke your head in, his eyes lift and meet yours, a sleepy, coy grin colors his face, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, stopping mid button on his work coveralls.

The black bandana around his head presses his bangs nearly flat, the soft waves of his chocolate dipped curls reflect the sun light with a honey oranged hue.

“Hi,” your voice is small and meek.

An overwhelming feeling of dread* clouds your mind. Where would this new found friendship and comfort lead you both? Maybe Eddie was regretting the entire night. You haven’t been on this comfort level with someone you were physically attracted to ever. Steve was like a brother to you. And Chad— you were never comfortable with him, your skin crawling just thinking of it. But Eddie? The sight of him gave you butterflies, his arms holding your waist while you slept was an intimacy you haven’t experienced before, and you wanted to relish in the feeling of it.

He fiddles with his rings on his fingers, rolling them around and around before his mouth opens to speak, “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he blurts out, looking down in shame, unable to meet your curious eyes.

Barely comprehending that he’s apologizing for being vulnerable, you walk towards him slowly. He notices your staggering steps and inches backward. His walls are back up, caged in with his feelings, barbed wire on the top so you couldn’t find a way in, electric fence surrounding the brick walls—the highest voltage imaginable.

“Ed—”

“Please,” he begs, voice cracked and broken, wavering on another breakdown, “please don’t… I don’t need your sympathy.”

Tears well in your eyes at his recoiling. How can a night of comfort turn into despair and hostility the next morning? Nose burning, signaling your brain that tears would be falling any second, you wipe your eyes hastily.

Eddie felt like his neck was out, exposed to the world, waiting for the guillotine’s blade to slice his skin, until the crimson of his blood spilled in the basket, severing his head, a trophy amongst the weak.

Munson’s didn’t accept charity, his whole life that's what he felt like to Wayne, a charity case, a goddamn roadblock in Wayne’s life stopping him from finding a girlfriend, sleeping on a real bed, forcing him to work overnight just for Eddie— he’d never forgive himself for the pain he’s caused him— and now you? Offering your bed to him, your fingers twirling through his hair as he came undone. Whimpering like an infant, coating your thighs with thick tears. Sure it felt nice to have someone there with him, to reassure him it was all going to be okay, sweet, angelic voice of reason. But when he woke this morning he felt disgusting, like a predator, a vicious wolf preying on a sweet innocent lamb offering herself to him because he was upset.

He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want to taint your soul with his past.

“I’m not giving my sympathy,” you voiced into the void, whether he heard it or not you weren’t sure.

Eddie breathing heavily, trying to contain his emotions from spilling out of him, “good, because I don’t want it.”

He walks around you in a huff, the muted scent of cigarettes and cologne hit your nose, as he passes you and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door all too hard. Following him, you’re certain you are full fledged crazy at this point, like in a scary movie when the lead actress stays in the house instead of running away.

Opening the door, opening Pandora’s box, you push it til it swings wide, he’s hovering over the sink brushing his teeth, white and blue toothpaste decorate the corners of his mouth.

“Tooty,” he groans, spitting a dollop of toothpaste into the sink, “seriously— I don’t want to talk about it, whatever you have to say save it for the human Care Bear Harrington—I don’t want to hear it.” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Stones would be impressed with how still you’re standing, head raised waiting for him to look you in your eye. Refusing to break. A storm in your eyes threatening to flood. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not acting like anything,” Eddie grunts impatiently, “are you ready?”

When you don’t say anything, he moves you out of the way, large hands around your arms, stepping around you and going into the kitchen.

Following him, you won't let up, his head in the fridge he pulls out the orange juice carton, drinking directly from the jug, “Eddie, you can talk to me about it, I’m a good listener.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, gasping for breath as he swallows the citrus liquid, “I said— I said, I didn’t want to talk about it and I meant it, I’m a grown ass man— ”

Interrupting him, not giving him time to finish you blurt, “Doesn’t make you less of one just because you’re upset.”

His teeth clench so hard they almost crack, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the orange juice container crumbling in his grasp. Years of therapy as a child did nothing to help him. And neither could you.

“Stop,” he snaps, his eyes pinched tight, a wave of fury washing over him, only seeing red. “Jesus Christ enough! I don’t need this shit right now, I’m gonna be late for work!”

He stomps towards the door, shoving his boots on haphazardly, throwing his leather jacket under his arm, the same leather jacket you had worn the night before, your perfume lingering on the inside.

The smell of you lighting his fire even more, he’s losing all self control.

“What’s your problem anyway?” he grumbles, kicking open the front door, waiting for you to follow. His eyes are wide and full of hurt, anger, crippling anxiety so deep he didn’t even know if he was breathing. But no matter how mad you looked, how many tears you kept wiping away from your lash line, he couldn’t stop.

Keys in the ignition he puts the van into reverse and yanks the wheel quickly, driving like he robbed a bank.

Anytime you try to speak he cuts you off.

“Do you like getting involved with people's lives? Why are you so desperate to know what happened? Need something to gossip about at the salon? So you and your boss can whisper shit about me again? Hmm? ”

“What the fuck are y—” you try to say, but he cuts you off again, he’s raging war on himself and on you, it’s far from over, no surrender flag in sight.

“That must be it right?” he preens, barely stopping at the stop lights as he flies to your work, tires squealing around corners, “I’m here because you need something to talk about, the well full of hot gossip of Hawkins must have run dry. Well guess what sweetheart? It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”

He’s so clueless, so expertly out of sync with what you were trying to convey, what you were begging him to understand. The tears are free falling and you don’t stop them, screaming at him, “Eddie!”

“What?!” he barks back, chest heaving with hatred filled lungs and venomous words so toxic they’re burning your skin.

Aching soul and self doubt at an all time low you try to will the words to not shake as you deliver, “do you really think I would hold you while you were sad with any other intention than consoling you!? You were upset and the least I could do after you helped me was try to make you feel better!”

He tried to argue but it’s your turn to cut him off, holding up a hand as he fumed through his nose. He parks in back of the salon, slamming on the brakes as you both jolt forward. “Let it go, Too—”

“I care about you, you stubborn asshole!” You grab your purse between your feet and open the door and jump out.

“Just stop,” Eddie pleads, his eyes brimming with tears, “don’t.”

“I can’t,” you say back in a whisper, your voice breaking at the last syllable, you reach for the door, out of breath and holding in your sobs the best you can, “oh, and for the record— Josie was telling me to be nice to you and give you a chance— my mistake.”

Slamming the door you don’t hear him break, you don’t hear him thrust the heel of his hand into the steering wheel until it aches and burns. His nerves shooting pain through his entire arm. You don’t hear him scream and hate himself as he drives to work, his body soulless, empty, fragile.

“Tooty, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell Josie for the tenth time.

You definitely were not fine.

Distracted the minute you got to work, your mind raced with questions of the unknown. Hurt, confused and pissed off, you had mixed the wrong color formula for your clients hair, resulting in money down the drain from your own paycheck as you threw the mixture away and started it again, for the third attempt.

At 10 o’clock you were folding towels in the back when you realized you had bleached an entire load of darks. The once rich black towels were now faded with splotches of orange.

Eddie’s words had ripped through your heart, hurdling themselves into the deepest parts of you that were sheltered away from anyone, taking up solace in your forbidden soul, hollowing it out.

By noon you were crying while rolling a client's perm rods into her hair, having to step away multiple times before Josie gently told you enough was enough and that you should go home for the day.

Not wanting to call Eddie and get a ride you decided to walk the half mile through town back to your home on Cherry lane.

Kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe for most of the walk home, you mull over the events of the day. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan as you tread along the sidewalk.

[Thanksgiving Day]

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to Nancy and Jonathan’s? It’ll be fun!”

Eddie is leaned against the driver window of his van, his finger tracing a smiley face into the dust in the dash. “I wish I could, but Wayne and I go fishing every year on Thanksgiving— it’s a tradition.”

Every year since Eddie was ten years old, Wayne took him fishing on Thanksgiving, starting early in the morning and going until sundown, ending the night camping beneath the stars, cooking their daily catch for supper, “save me a piece of pie okay?” he finishes, ruffling up your hair, a shit eating grin on his lips.

Feeling horrible that your car was still out of commission, Eddie had let you borrow the van for the night after you dropped him off at Wayne’s. “And you’re positive it’s okay if I take the van?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Eddie’s laugh spread across his cheeks, the black beanie he has on his head inching closer to falling off every second, “Tooty,” he breathes, his brown eyes dipping into yours, “take the goddamn van and have a good time—and hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”

[2 Weeks prior]

🎶 it was the third of June another sleepy dusty delta day

I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was baling hay

Bobbie Jo’s tune was ringing in his ears all day— no matter how loud he cranked the radio in the shop, no matter how many times he tried to hum a different tune— her -* words rang through his mind like silk, coating his skin and implementing old memories he didn’t want brought up.

He was filled with fury. A ticking time bomb. It should have been no surprise when Sean and Aaron started poking at him, how unhinged he would become.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Munson,” Sean sneers, changing the oil on the Ford truck, “your little girlfriend finally figure out you’re a fucking loser?”

Eddie had already thrown a wrench across the shop out of frustration when he realized he forgot his lunch. He slammed the hood of a blue minivan on his fingers right after morning break, and now Aaron and Sean were starting in on him.

His breath erratic, trying to breathe through his nose to calm himself down but failing. His misery over taking his nerves. He grunts through barred teeth, “We aren’t dating,”

Sean perks up at the news, his wiry mustache splattered across his top lip like a squashed caterpillar, decrepit and sparse. “Oh shit, so she’s single, huh?”

“Damn,” Aaron chimes in, his hands cupped around his junk as he shakes it back and forth between his greasy hands, “what I wouldn't give to be balls deep in that pretty little mouth, that’d shut her up for good.”

“You’re skating on thin ice, fuck rag, I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” Eddie’s shoulders are tensed, adrenaline at an all time high. Fight or flight screaming through his blood racing through his heart and speeding up his heart rate.

“Whatchya gonna do about it, freak?” Sean spits pushing Eddie in the chest, “ ‘Name the time and place’ yeah motherfucker? How about right here right now?” Standing toe to toe with Eddie, but a foot shorter he peers into Eddie’s face, egging him on.

“Ever since you moved in with that whore you’ve been such a little bitch about everything— I mean I get it, honestly— Chad always said she had the sweetest p—”

Sean chokes on the last word as Eddie’s fist connects with his cheek, his rings would end up leaving bruises in their shape on his skin for weeks to come.

Sean throws a punch at Eddie but he is quick to dodge it, years of fighting in the trailer park giving him an upper hand. Blood spews from Sean’s mouth as Eddie upper cuts him in the chin, his tongue almost split in half as he bit down from the impact.

Eddie is blinded momentarily as Aaron socks him in the eye, a deep purpling plum colored bruise that took weeks to heal. Stumbling backwards his back hits the red sun faded tool box, Sean came swinging a crow bar out of nowhere and hit Eddie in the ribs, a groaning thud as the sound of his bones shatter in his body.

Behind his back, he reaches for whatever is closest, a wrench wrapped tight in his fingers gets thrown in the air at Sean, hitting him in the throat and knocking him over onto the smooth concrete of the shop floor, gasping for breath.

Aaron tackles Eddie, sending him into the air compressor, four fists are swinging and bodies shifting as they both struggle for dominance. Eddie’s lip is cut and his eye is swollen almost shut. Aaron’s nose is dripping blood on Eddie’s shirt as he punches him in the same place that Sean hit him with the crow bar. He’s able to get a knee up between Aaron and himself and twists his body to get above him, and when he does he lays punch after punch into Aaron’s swollen bloody face.

With each rocking fist connecting with flesh, Eddie has one thing on his mind, you. He thinks about the foul way they had disrespected you. The way you had cried when you told him you couldn’t stop caring about him. How he was close to losing you because he couldn’t open up and let you in. How terrified you must have been for all those years when you were scared and alone, nobody there to hold you and comfort you. And while he’s pummeling Aaron into a bloody pulp of cracked teeth and swollen eyes, it finally clicks for him.

The fight didn’t last long, but was effective enough to get Eddie suspended for the rest of the work day— and Aaron and Sean got a nice week's vacation with no pay.

Eddie’s knuckles are coated in a mixture of blood and spit. His jaw aches as he drives home with one eye open, it’s the clearest he’s seen in a long time.

[Thanksgiving]

“Fish ain’t bitin’ much are they?” Wayne and Eddie have both cast and reeled in their rods multiple times with zero luck. The small boat Eddie had gifted Wayne with for Christmas 3 years ago stood at still waters of Lover’s Lake, both men chilled to the bone.

“Nah, they sure aren’t. Probably no fish left in here after the summer you had.”

Since Eddie had graduated, Wayne dropped down to part time at the plant and went to dayshift. A true dream for him and for Eddie, offering to pick up most of the bills, a silent thank you for all the years that Wayne has taken care of him when he didn’t have to, but did anyway— the only caring person in his life, until you.

The wind whips through Eddie’s hair, tugging the curls out from the confinements of the cotton stocking cap snug on his head. The once crisp autumn foliage is soggy like forgotten cereal in a bowl of milk around them from the previous nights rain, chilling the usual humidity from the air and adding a depth of ice in their veins as they shake and shiver in their jackets, Eddie in his leather jacket, Wayne in a weathered faded khaki canvas coat.

Ruddy hands with silvered rings light two cigarettes, passing one to a pair of calloused, aged hands. Inhaling deeply and blowing warm smoke in the whispering winds of the quiet fog around them.

Wayne runs a rough hand over his sunned scalp, itching the small patches of hair left, as he readjusts his tattered cap, letting the nicotine settle into his bones and soothe the stubborn ache in his jaw, like ointment on an arthritic joint, “you ever gonna bring that girlfriend over to meet me or you keepin’ her alls to yourself?”

“What girl?” Eddie says quickly, coyly, blowing smoke into the space between the two of them, hiding his mouth with the curtain of his curls, opening the coffee can full of mud and worms, pushing another worm on the end of his hook.

Wayne hadn’t talked to him about girls since he was fifteen when he walked into his room and tossed a box of rubbers at his chest and grumbled, “use ‘em,” under his breath.

Irritation blooms against Wayne’s brows, “boy, don’t play dumb with me,” he cracks at Eddie, a false stern voice in his gruff voice, “the one you’re dating you little wise ass.”

“I’m not dating anyone, Wayne.” Eddie says, pretending to be preoccupied with the tackle box full of neon fishing lures and bobbers. He runs his thumb over the rough cracked surface of the faded red and white bobber, the same one Wayne gave to him when they started fishing all those years ago. The memory brings a smile to his face.

The gruff scoff from Wayne’s throat suggests bullshit to his ears from his nephew’s mouth, a noise Eddie has heard many many times in the two decades he had been living with Wayne, one that told him that he better tell the truth, and right the hell now. No matter that he now towers over Wayne, he’ll always be his boy, the wide eyed boy with a mountain of guilt on his shoulders, his son.

And as Wayne always knew— the more he poked and prodded, the more Eddie would clam up. They sit in comfortable silence, the slight breeze rippling the water on Lover’s Lake, rocking the small fiberglass boat and swaying the two Munson men gently.

How could he describe the relationship between you and him? Not dating, but hopefully more than friends. He didn’t have many friends that he’d willingly let help him battle his inner-most demons. In fact, Gareth and Jeff were still left in the dark about it. The breeze continues to grow frigid and burrows itself between the layers of his clothing, freezing his skin and peppering it with goose bumps. The chattering of Eddie’s teeth remind him of Steve’s birthday when he offered you his jacket, and opted to freeze the rest of the night just so you wouldn’t be chilly.

It’s simple really, he admitted it to Steve, but somehow admitting it to Wayne was worse than the hit from the box of condoms against his chest.

He says it all too fast, out of breath, and barely audible. But he says it. And a smile spreads across the weathered leather of Wayne’s face, pulling his mustache up, a glimmer of a sparkle in his eye, “see, now was that so bad?”

[2 weeks prior]

His knuckles ache, and he’s not positive if it’s from the blows to Aaron’s face or the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. His realization while busting open Aaron’s cheek made him eager to get home. Eager to clean himself up before he went to pick you up from work.

The house is silent as he walks through the garage, his angry hurtful words bounce back to him off the kitchen walls, the counter. The orange juice was still where he left it, crumpled and misshapen.

He truly was an asshole. Hurting the one person who cared for him other than Wayne. He sits down in a chair and unties his boots, blood splattered on the toes. Peeling the sweat stained work coveralls from his body, he tosses them down the steps to the basement, leaving them for later.

He stands partially naked in the kitchen, clad in only his underwear and socks, the kick of adrenaline wearing completely off, the promise of pain against his broken ribs rings searing heat through his body.

A glance around the kitchen stills the breath in his lungs. The kitchen is a wreck from the waffle night, the colossal beginning of a budding relationship that he was currently in the trenches hoping to fix. The once silky batter is now hard, pale concrete cemented onto the sides of the glass mixing bowl. The waffle iron was open, sprayed with cooking oil that was sitting with its cap off on the counter. The plates were sticky with cold syrup and now styrofoam resembled waffles, still on the table from where you had both sat. Forks and knives laying atop the ceramic plates in a haphazard way, awaiting the return of warm hands to finish their job.

Without thinking he starts to clean up, filling the sink with hot water, scraping the food from the plates into the garbage, putting away the orange juice and the left out butter and cooking spray. In no time the kitchen is sparkling and Eddie’s body is screaming at him to rest. The cuts on his knuckles are cleaned but swollen, soap stung from the water. His side aches, adrenaline slipping away with every growing minute.The pain is almost unbearable.

A clicking noise from the front door has him turning suddenly, a slight panic in his nerves as he stands stone still.

A block from the house, your tears return, cold, and stuck to your face like ice on poles. You’re exhausted, stomping the entire way home drove shin splints up your legs, the cold cramping dull in your calves. Thinking of Eddie the entire way home you are dumbfounded— completely and utterly confused at his reaction. How could he not know how you felt about him? Why was he begging you to stop? Wondering if you’ll ever get the answers to those questions you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan. If he was going to guard himself again, and put the barriers back up— so could you.

The door is stuck as you try to open it, pushing and shoving your shoulder into it, it finally gives, stumbling your way into the living room in the most ungraceful way. The scent of freshly wiped surfaces sting your nose and stop you dead in your tracks. You weren’t expecting to be relieved from seeing Eddie, but the relief is short lived as you notice the deep violet and indigo bruise painting his eye.

“Ed—,” you gasp, covering your mouth as you run towards him, foregoing the screaming in your legs, “wh— oh my God!”

His eyes melt at your appearance, scarlet rimmed eyes and wet cheeks take him in, eyebrows dipped into unease and apprehension. He feels your hesitancy, thick like fog surrounding you both as you reach your fingers up to his cheek. Ice cold pads of your fingertips skim the tender skin of his face, brushing the wispy hair of his bangs from his eyes with your fingertips to get a better look at him.

He doesn’t speak, barely breathing at your gentle touch on his face. The frosty coolness of your fingers burn his skin with every silky movement of your hands. He tries to avoid your eyes, avoid the pain he knew was from earlier and his cowardice.

Fingers dancing along his skin, you scan over his torso, the same way you did on the morning after Halloween, the bruising from the mishap of the steps is replaced by a pattern of splotchy deep bruising.

“They’re broke,’’ Eddie groans, his split lip ripping open, from him trying to force a smile, “looks cool though right?”

Using humor to deflect the true way he feels was an easy defense mechanism for him, but you won’t bite. Won’t take the bait he’s dropping into your waters, won’t nibble at his small offering.

Trying not to break, you stand your ground, “what happened?”

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Eddie says, eyes casted downwards at your hands near his ribs, “I was just having a shitty enough day— my own fault—“, he adds quickly, his eyes flicking to yours, not wanting to put salt into the already festering wound he created, “I—uh—I took care of it.” He says in a final explanation.

“And now I’m going to take care of this,” he motions between you both, sliding his hands down your arms and settling them in your hands.

“Tooty— I,” he exhales as deep as his lungs will allow given the break in his ribs, spilling his stitched up heart to you, letting the walls fall with each word, “I’m sorry— I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I do or say will ever amount to how shitty I feel for making you cry, for pushing you away. I’m a coward when it comes to this type of shit, and it was too heavy— too muddy for me to explain. I figured if I’d shut you out you’d go back to how it was before— before Harrington’s birthday, before Halloween befo—,”

A shake of your head and a sharp intake of breath come from your body. Did all of this mean nothing to him? The flirting, the gentle touching, the sweet gestures? It was all just something he wanted to forget?

Voice small and shallow, “Is that what you want Eddie? To go back to how it was before, when you first moved in?”

A single tear falls from your face, and without thinking, without second guessing himself or wondering if you would think he was being weird, Eddie is quick to brush it away with the curl of his forefinger. His swollen knuckles are tight and achy. He tries to hide a hiss from his teeth, wanting to live in this euphoric moment for as long as he can, as long as you will allow him to. He extends both hands now to your face, his rough thumbs rubbing over the expanse of your cheeks, fingers behind your ears, curling into your hair.

“I want,” he breathes easy now, as if the touch of your skin on his fingers mended his broken bones, his eyes soft where it allowed, one still swollen shut, “I need you to know that I care, too— and I don’t want you to ever quit caring about me— baby, I’ve cared about you for years—- and I can’t get myself to stop.”

And when a sob breaks from your chest, he pulls you into him, “c’mere,” the sensation steals the breath from your lungs, you’ve never been touched with such gentleness, such care. He’s holding you as if you’re glass. Fragile, cracked and held together with shitty Elmer’s glue that was a tempting snack for children. It’s so delicate the way he’s stroking your skin.

Minutes or hours pass you’re not sure. His warmth engulfs you, his musky cologne and spiced deodorant is a gentle blanket around you. Wrapping you in a swaddle of his admiration.

His hair tickles your cheeks, tattooed arms are twisted in your hair,and wrapped around your back. The shine of your tears coat his bare chest, his chin rests on top of yours breathing in your hair shushing you gently.

You spend the night working Eddie’s rings from his already swollen fingers, pressing ice packs to his bruises and spreading neosporin on his cut lip, rubbing it gently with the tip of your finger, Eddie giggles at the concentration on your face and the way your tongue is poked out.

He’s infatuated with the way you make him feel. His heart soaring higher and higher with each delicate touch of your fingers on his skin.

He’s up late that night, stomach full from your homemade chicken noodle soup and his heart even more full. Flying higher than cloud nine, your sweet face on his mind.

[Thanksgiving]

A sadistic voice echoes from your tv screen, “a little young for ya isn’t she Richie? BEEP BEEP RICHIE!”

Richie Tozier sips the Dixie cup of water, leaning against the bookcase in the Derry library, Pennywise continues his antics of torture as balloons drop from the ceiling, popping with blood spluttering on the library go-ers faces, oblivious to the fantasy nightmare Pennywise ensues.

The front door opens with a thud as a shriek and the popcorn bowl on your lap goes flying through the air. Eddie walks hurriedly through the door. A shivering spine of fear and realization hits you all at once. His boisterous laugh reverberates the living room walls as he picks popcorn from your hair, and places it in his mouth, a loud crunch between his teeth as he plops down next to you on the couch.

“Think you got your holidays mixed up, sweetheart— it’s Thanksgiving, Halloween was last month.”

Rolling your eyes you make a face to mock him, which only fuels his fire and has his cold fingers jabbing into your sides and tickling you so hard you scream out. Begging him to stop.

“Don’t!,” you squeal, holding your breath and giggling at his unrelenting tickling. He finally gives up after your face has gone red and your hair is a mess, laughing tears rolling down your cheeks.

Eddie sits back on the couch taking a huffing breath, a wild smile spreading from ear to ear, “that’s what you get for watching IT without me!”

Scoffing, you pick up the bowl of popcorn and the paled yellow crunchy kernels spilled on the ruby red throw blanket, “wait, weren’t you supposed to be camping with your uncle tonight?”

Eddie breathes out a sigh, bending at the waist to gather the kernels off the floor. The rest of the fishing trip with Wayne, Eddie spent it quieter than he had ever been, contemplating his next move, how could he show you that he was serious? How could he let you in? Show you his ugly past without scaring you, without you running for the hills? The answer was easy.

“I have something— somewhere I wanna show you,” he whispers, standing to his full height. Looking for the familiar mischievous glimmer in his eye, you are surprised by the genuine sparkle replacing it. His face his earnest, almost a look of doubt on his lips, scared of your reaction.

He peels the blanket from your lap and reaches down, his hand held out extended to yours, “come with me?”

The air is bitter. The driveway is glittering with a sequined frost, dancing with the shine of the street lights. Warm breath fills the inside of Eddie’s van as he slots the key into the ignition and fires it up, cranking the heat. Snuggling further into your knitted scarf, hiding the chill of your nose as Eddie backs down the driveway, heading out of town.

It doesn’t take long to get to where he was going, the drive in silence had you questioning what was going on in his mind. The path was overgrown, hidden from the road, hidden from anyone who didn’t know that it was there. The headlights of the van bob along with each sunken hole on the dirt drive. Jostling the van this way and that.

Nestled into thick trees past an old loose and corroded barbed wire fence, in place for property lines, sits a small house, paint chipped and barely visible. The roof was caved in by a large tree falling on it, the sagging porch still had bleached yellow crime scene tape hanging on by threads to the moss eaten pillar.

Eddie throws the van in park, sniffling slowly and looking around. “This uh,” he stutters, clearing his throat, “this is where I lived with my mom, my old man was in and out most of the time—drunk or in jail, I don’t remember him being here that much except the last time.”

Silence is golden, and you give him your undivided attention as he twists in his seat, bent knee leaning on the door frame.

“That,” he says pointing to the fallen tree in the back, “was an apple tree, apples this big around I swear,” he motions his hands in a circle, a chuckle in his throat, “we didn’t live here for very long, a year, or two maybe…”

His voice fades, and at first he second guesses bringing you here. He can imagine you piecing this puzzle of woe together, his life. The tragic tale of Eddie Munson, he didn’t spin a web of luxuries for you to pretend with him for a moment, a second, that he was anything other than what he was—but when your cotton gloved fingers slide into his, interlacing them—it gives him the courage, the resilience to continue.

“…I was six when it— when she was… he—,” he trails off, unable to finish, but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. The abandoned house, the barely-there flicker of yellow tape, she wasn’t only dead— she was murdered, by his father’s hand.

Comprehending what he’s getting at, you can practically hear his heart breaking. Eyes never leaving his face, you take him in, his eyes are wet as he blinks back tears, using his other hand to pinch the inner corners of his eyes, and hide behind his hair, his face is ashen, once ruddy cheeks from when he came home and tickled you is now swallowed by stale ash, sucking the life from his eyes, his cheeks, his soul.

“.. right in front of me…” he hangs his head low, sniffing quietly, “Wayne took me in after that.”

Eddie and you were alike in more ways than you had thought, although your parents were still alive, they were equally absent from your life, much like Eddie’s parents. Sure you both had people who took care of you, and as sweet as the gesture was, it was never really the same. The aching torture of having to defend for yourself, put a brave face on for your temporary care takers so you don’t seem like a bother to them, so they won’t worry about the weight of taking you in— was all too familiar.

“Eddie,” you whisper softly, rubbing his hands with your thumbs.

Yearning and breaking for him, the cords of your heart reach to his, tethering them together as you slide over the center council, and carefully land into his lap. He’s surprised at first by your brazenness, but once you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him into you, he melts like chocolate at your heated touch.

Your fingers tug into his hair at the nape of his neck, his nose and lips make their way in between your scarf and your neck, the slight chill against your skin sends goosebumps down your spine, a throbbing in your core.

Realization spreads through your heart, your brain, the hair follicles on your head, the painted nails on your toes. Holding him, him holding you, his arms around you, your arms buried in his hair, his fingers rubbing patterns into your back as he sighs deeply and regulates his breath—for the first time in your life, you realize this is what love feels like.

To be loved and to be in love. It was undeniable. Right? Friends didn’t do this. Roommates didn’t do this. But two people who cared deeply for one another and were bonded together by more than just traumatic circumstances? That was love.

In this moment, nothing else matters.

It’s just you and him.

Him and you.

The flutter of your heart short circuits as it seeps hot sticky love all over your face, blooming warmly in your cheeks. Grasping him tighter, you pull away, settling your forehead into his. Whiskey poured eyes staring back into yours, for a brief second you swear you can feel his heart flutter with yours, beating as one.

Eddie doesn’t play his music loud on the way back. A comfortable echoing still in the van as it clunks along the road. His voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. He feels satisfied. Happy even? Like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders by you simply knowing his past. You didn’t ask questions and in the moment he didn’t need you to. His arms wrapped around you was more than enough, your fingers twirling in his hair, the smell of your perfume behind your ear. The way you let him grieve, let him take you somewhere he hasn’t gone in years, was something he’d appreciate for a lifetime to come.

Once home it’s like any normal night, only he doesn’t tease you. He doesn’t fight over the bathroom or use your toothbrush, he doesn’t argue when you pop Christmas Vacation into the VCR, even though you can quote the entire movie. He’s completely engulfed by you, watching you brush your hair, the extra roll of the waistband of your pajama pants. The ridiculous colors of your fuzzy socks you insisted on wearing now that the weather was colder.

He’s never felt nervous around a girl before, usually throwing himself around, showing off his exquisite rack like a stacked buck in rut, rubbing his antlers on trees, showing his mighty dominance.

But you weren’t just another lonely girl looking for a night with a lead singer, or a girl pretending to be in love with him just so she could score coke from his supplier while also fucking him behind his back, and you definitely weren’t a faceless girl that he plowed to forget it all.

Meaning much more to him than just some silly fuck, or a high school “sweetheart” that ended up being a heartless cunt, or a dumpster for his cum.

No.

You were much more than that, to him.

More than a roommate, more than a friend, more than Eyeball’s bratty fucking sister.

He could write sonnets about the little lines in between your brow when you pulled your eyebrows together, usually when you were mad at him. He could sing songs about your laugh, not the small polite one, the loud one, the one that rang every doorbell to his heart and and he gladly answered. He could hum a tune of gratitude about your cooking and the silent ways you care for him and your close friends. He’d get his ass kicked by the entire male population of Hawkins if it meant keeping you safe.

You were it for him.

The only one to make him feel, the only one he wanted to see at the end of the day, in the morning when he got up.

Watching you giggle and let out a yawn, he places a couch pillow between his hip and yours gesturing for you to lie down. He almost goes into cardiac arrest when you move the pillow entirely, your head resting in his lap. A sleepy smile on your face as you tug the blanket under your chin.

Yup.

You were it for him.

And he's a sucker, addicted to the way you made him love you so effortlessly.

hope you all enjoyed this volume! volume ix is where it heats up 🔥

@big-ope-vibes @br0ck-eddie @b-irock @loveshotzz @mopeymopeymouse @shiftingtherain @courtingchaos @nightonblogmountain @word-wytch @ghost-proofbaby @hanobe8 @abibliophobiaa @joejoequinnquinn just a few of the coven 🩵🩷

This is for you

*sacrifices 🖕🏼

#honey i’m home #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things x y/n #eddie x you angst #Eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you fluff

1K notes · View notes

chevelleneech · 5 days

Text

Are You Sure? - Ep8

Here are my thoughts now that I finally watched the episode (I was at work all day, anon, lol).

I honestly don’t have too too many, because my main takeaway was that they seemed to have truly needed these trips together. They knew by Jeju they’d be enlisting together, so I feel like any thoughts I had about the trips being a sort of last hurrah before potentially being separated go out the window.

They knew they’d be together, so barring them being romantically involved in some way… I kind of don’t get the point of the series.

Had this been a special involving other members, then it being work related would make sense. Had this been more like the Jeju episodes where they weren’t as laid back, I’d get it, but it wasn’t. Five out of eight episodes focused on them not doing much else other than simply spending time together. Sight seeing and going out to eat, with a sprinkle of activities. We saw them shopping for food and driving more than anything else, but for some reason they both still say the whole experience and filming of the series was the best thing they’ve gotten to do.

That to me, and I say this with full honesty, does not make sense to me, if they’re strictly platonic. I don’t know, episode eight sees them putting a certain level of importance on these trips that many antis wanted to rip away, and surely they knew that. They know what people think about them in their own fandom, both for the better and the worse, and they didn’t care. Which, good for them.

Moving away from my confusion in an attempt to find another explanation, I also think their joint melancholy about having to leave triggered the dropping of their guards a little bit. Add that to them drinking some, and their whole reaction moment felt almost intrusive to see, lol. They kept gravitating toward each other the entire time, only for the editors to skip to them sitting back up with more space between them. Nevermind the footsie and Jimin walking by the room they were shown going to bed in, when he said he was going to wake JK up.

So unless Jungkook was already up and in the shower or something, which they conveniently didn’t mention despite doing it every other time… they either didn’t sleep in the room with the camera or JK moved rooms. But again, given they gave us updates about every other sleeping arrangement or change, why would their last night be different if nothing happened? (By “nothing” I genuinely mean I think they moved to a different room without a camera, likely to talk or simply be closer. Not necessarily sex, because again, I don’t see them going there with a house full of staff.)

Pure speculation of course, lol, but yeah. Those moments made me feel a little like, okay, they did this with the intent of making memories. They may have wanted to cement who they are to each other in this moment, because no matter how optimistic they were that things wouldn’t change and their friendship would be solid, no one can predict the future.

Couple that with them both starting Ep1 saying they hadn’t seen each other and Jimin not being sure (no pun intended) the trip was a good idea in the first place, to them ending Ep8 saying they didn’t want it to be over and spent the last few days happy… it’s a big deal, I think. Especially with how many times they spent their last day in Sapporo taking about how romantic and pretty everything was.

Per the words from their own mouths, they created a small, romantic, nice, and happy bubble they didn’t want to leave, and I love that for them. They got to be happy and cared for by one another, and want to spend many more years to come doing the same thing. I hope they get that.

Oh and final thought… I want that house! Their final Sapporo house was beautiful, as was the town. It felt like a holiday special!

#jikook

55 notes · View notes

keepingitformyself · 9 months

Text

we might just get away with it (ii)

AN: i’m so sorry for the delay on this second chapter, i got really caught up with uni stuff and then some personal projects i’ve been working on. anyways i have about a month off and will do my best to catch up on this story! hope u guys enjoy this one….happy holidays!

synopsis: hollywood is a tricky place for someone new like you, a certain elusive redhead is hoping for you to let her in.

pairings: writer!natasha romanoff x youngactress!reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: natalie is lowkey a mastermind. rumored romance with another certain actress…..

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

3 weeks later.

new york is everything you love, put into one city. you thrive in it’s anonymity, ironically.

it’s got the strong sense of culture, the food, the creativity, and the people. like every single person who walks the streets is made to belong there, they all have their purpose for making new york what it is.

that’s what you think as you’re sat outside a coffee shop on 463 w broadway.

you make a note of how one day you’ll commit to living here. you also make note of just how reckless it’d be if you just up and left la then never went back. you hate la, you’ve come to find out. yet there’s so much that keeps you there. you hate it. you don’t belong there. but in some sense of the word, you do.

you sigh with the shake of your head, adjust the cap securely on your head, and tighten the large overcoat you have on. the latte in front of you seeming more interesting now. the still hot liquid distracts you from the intrusive thoughts.

your mind drifts off to natalie. you’re immediately taken back to that night at the party. it’s your first time thinking of that night in weeks. and you realize how you truly haven’t felt the way you did that night, since. you remember the conversations you had, you remember how she went to school at nyu, how she told you she hasn’t left new york since. how she never plans to.

you wonder how she’s doing, if she’s in the city. if she remembers you, or has even thought of you.

it makes you a little sad to think about. your life hasn’t slowed down since the release of the series and sometimes all you wanted was to find some small relief in it all. even with the short-lived moments of connection it feels odd to come back from something like that and move on with your life.

your thought is cut short with a text message from samantha.

greta decided to move the meeting a little earlier. she apologizes for the last minute change. can you be there in the next 30 minutes?

you text a quick reply saying that you’ll be there as soon as you can. with that, you grab your to go cup and find the nearest subway that’ll take you up to 19th street.

you make it there just within the thirty minute mark. a kind man waits for you to arrive at the door and leads you up the elevator to the fourth floor of the walk up.

you’re surprised to see who is seated next to greta when you walk in.

“oh good, you made it! let me introduce you to—” you cut her off.

“—natalie.”

the redhead stands from her seat at the table and reaches over it to shake your hand.

“it’s a pleasure we meet again.” her eyes say something different. not bad necessarily, but something more. you’re not sure what it might be. greta’s eyes light up at the gesture.

“oh you’ve met! well, natalie here is gonna be joining us as head writer right besides me and noah for the next season.”

it’s your turn for your eyes to light up. a sense of relief floods through you. natalie isn’t here just to be here, she was here to be part of something with you.

you turn to her with a genuine smile. though you’ve worked with the people in this room for over a year, natalie is drastically different to them.

natalie was the first person who spoke to you as if you were just you. she didn’t bother you about work and stuff.

she talked to you about things that interested you, that interested her. she talked to you like you were just another individual who happened to be at the same party she was at.

“that’s- that’s actually really good to hear. i’m really excited for how this’ll turn out.”you let out a laugh, one that says you’re still trying to comprehend the news.

“right well, let’s get the meeting started!” greta claps her hands together and sits down.

——

natalie hasn’t stopped staring at you since the meeting started.

she hopes you’re as interested in the meeting as you look, because then at least she’d be sure you haven’t figured out her staring problem.

she only catches your eyes whenever greta or noah turn the attention towards her, then you’re forced to look at her. but she’s always just in time to look away before you can notice the stares.

the truth is, natalie is an absolute maniac. she’s a psychopath. she’s a writer for gods sake!

writers have a tendency to be more in sync with their awareness which is great…but they’re also more able to get in touch with that darker side in their psyche. how else do you think she managed to snag a few award-winning films under her belt?

her creativity reaches into places in her mind most wouldn’t even consider to think of.

point is, natalie is a huge romanticist, and it’s a problem. sometimes.

in her defense, greta came up to her for this job. so in some sense of the word, it was fate. plus, tony had put in a good word, not that she asked him to. obviously.

up until that point, natalie had no clue on how to get to you. her only idea was writing her next screenplay and giving you the lead.

but now, the ball was in her court. she takes the next shot.

the meeting ended and everyone was seeing themselves out. natalie thinks of what to say while she’s packing her things but you beat her to it instead.

“it was really nice to see you again.” she hears you say. she lifts her head up, you’re smiling and your hands are stuffed into your coat pockets. a smile easily reaches her eyes at the sight.

“i’m glad. i’ve already got some plans for where i want to take this next season.” natalie replies with an enthusiastic smile.

you raise your eyebrows in surprise eager to know what she might have to say but you hold yourself back. she wouldn’t spoil that for you, even if you asked.

“i have trust you’ll do it right then, i’ve already grown so protective of this show, especially my character.” it was very true. there were moments where you really had to oversee things going on with the script. thank god greta was as collaborative as she is. you’d always try exploring things with your character and she was always very supportive of where you’d take things. it made the series all the more fulfilling to you, honestly.

natalie confirms that she’ll do anything she thinks is in your best interest for the show and before she even realizes it, you’re making a move she wasn’t expecting.

“i know this is on short notice, but…i saw this really nice bistro on my way here and, i’d love to get to know my head writer more…over brunch?” you ask timidly. the thought to ask her had occurred to you only a few seconds ago. natalie seemed wise, and you liked it and she was here with you now and honestly, you just wanted some good company while being in the city.

“yeah i can do lunch. yeah that’s great actually.” natalie was surprised. to say the least. she hadn’t planned to continue the day with you. she decides this was her chance in. her way of getting to know you better, something she’s been desperate to get back to since she realized it that night in her home.

you lead her out of the building where you’re met with the crisp wind of new york city. car horns and police sirens are heard as you walk through the streets of the flatiron neighborhood. on the way to the restaurant you ask eachother how you’ve been.

you tell her about how you just wrapped up your press tour in europe and had spent a few nights with some friends in london. natalie pays close attention to every word that is hung from your lips. she notices to light blush that covers your cheeks and nose due to the cold and she almost reaches out to pull you in closer.

as you speak, she tries not to notice the obvious man with the camera that makes himself known a few hundred feet away from you. a sense of pride makes washes over her at the fact that there’d be a picture taken of the two of you, together.

you end your story and in return ask her how she’s been. natalie doesn’t miss the genuine interest shown in your eyes as she talks.

even as you reach the restaurant and are seated you never lose your sense.

natalie talks and talks and you listen. you’re so entranced by her stories that you’ve come to find that you deeply admire her for what she does and says. it makes you feel all the more excited for the chance at working with her.

she tells you she’s never not writing. even before greta came along to offer her the role of head writer, she was still writing. natalie tells you about the screenplay she was working on, how she plans to direct it as well.

you beam at her revelation seeming genuinely excited at the fact that she’d be making a movie sometime in the future. you tell her that she better invite you to the premiere.

natalie laughs off your comment. she doesn’t tell you how she got back into her writing after she saw you on her screen for the first time, all those months ago.

or how you’re the muse in her next story.

once your ordered food comes in you sit in a comfortable silence as you eat.

“what do you do on your days off?” natalie asks suddenly. she looks up at you through her lashes, her fork playing with the baked eggs on her plate.

you’re so caught off guard by her question it makes you blush at the way she stares you down. you chew down the food in your mouth and answer.

“uh, i like going home, to see my mom. she doesn’t let me stay for more than i need to though, she says i need to go out and meet new people.” you chuckle. your mom was your biggest supporter but also your biggest critic. although she always enjoys her time with you, she was always telling you to go meet with some of your hometown friends.

it’s why you liked going home so much. she’s great at grounding you when you need to be.

“oh? and have you met any new people?” natalie’s interest is piqued by now. she carefully treads around the question, hoping, wishing for any information that’d give her an in into what she desperately wants to know.

who are you with when you’re not alone? who do you think of when you are?

“i mean, i’ve met some really cool people through mutual friends." you reveal.

“wow, so you haven’t met anyone you fancy?” natalie plays it off coolly. she treads along the sacredness that is your romances. and natalie doesn’t mention the fact that she’s read into your love life recently. the rumors of you and another actress.

the one you were pictured with in london very recently.

“huh? oh, no. i don’t really have anyone like that in my life right now.” you nervously chuckle at her question.

“so you and that actress aren’t a couple? you and jenna ortega?” natalie feeds a forkful of food into her mouth, seeming very nonchalant about what she just asked.

you try not to laugh at natalie’s question. your eyebrows raise in surprise at her very forward question. it’s almost comical, really.

jenna was amongst the close group of friends you stayed with while in london.

she was a flame, someone you’d come to deeply admire over the time spent knowing her. she tells you things that you learn from, you check on eachother, you bring eachother back down to earth.

and she was one of the few people you could actually depend on with your life in this industry.

the silent shock wears off. you’re not sure what to say, except the fact that you feel a little embarrassed at her question. that even natalie of all people had heard about your supposed love life.

something that you tried to keep nurtured as much as possible.

“she’s one of my best friends.” you finally say. more sure than anything. you try not to laugh at the accusation. the idea of it seeming so far away from where you are now.

“i haven’t even dated in such a long time.” you even go as far to say. anything to make it clear you’re nowhere near any level of romance with anyone.

you miss the look of surprise on natalie’s face when you say this. she sets her fork down to sip from the breakfast martini she had ordered. she sets her glass down and takes a look at you, leaning forward only slightly.

“i was so sure someone as pretty as you wouldn’t have stayed single for so long.” then she looks down at her plate with a small smile, contemplating. there’s a beat of silence.

finally, she looks up.

“can’t say i’m disappointed at being proved wrong though.” she finishes.

you laugh at natalie’s comment. it’s all you could do, not really sure at what she could be getting at. you even blush a little.

and natalie misses none of it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel

156 notes · View notes

bones4thecats · 10 months

Text

2023 Thanksgiving Special; Slashers

A/N: Finally done with the 2023 Thanksgiving Specials!! Phew, my hands were starting to cramp writing these! I hope you all enjoy the four-parter that is this Thanksgiving! Have a great Thanksgiving!!

Spending Thanksgiving With Them

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🕯️ Vincent was always nervous when it came to the holidays

🕯️ The Sinclair brothers never really spent a true holiday together ever since returning to Ambrose years ago

🕯️ They’ve tried, but their work has always got in the way

🕯️ Vincent was the one who had cooked most of it, but Bo and Lester would hunt it all, rarely did they ever have to buy a lot of stuff, since they prepared ahead of time

🕯️ With your help, he made dinner a lot faster, and with you distracting him from the darker side of everything, Vincent valued you being there more and more

🕯️ He sat next to you and barely took of his mask normally, but you convinced him to take it off fully

🕯️ After cleaning, you and Vincent laid in bed and rested together, and every year after that, he’d look forward to Thanksgiving, and every holiday before and after

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🧱 This wall boy never really knew a good Thanksgiving ever since he was basically seven years old

🧱 So, when he had smelled the turkey and foods you were making in the kitchen, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia

🧱 He came out of the walls and looked over your shoulder in curiosity

🧱 Brahms watched you smile and lay a hand on his, which was holding the edge of the countertop

🧱 You asked him what he needed, and it launched from him following you around to him fully helping you cook

🧱 He never really cooked growing up, as he normally just ate the stuff his past babysitters and parents left him, or rather, his doll-self

🧱 Brahms found his love for cooking with you at that moment

🧱 He loved the turkey you both made

🧱 And he fell asleep just a half-hour later, you trapped in his arms

🧱 You better make sure you didn’t leave anything running, because you’re not coming out of there unless its a real emergency

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💝 This poor little guy didn’t know what was going on

💝 He watched you start cooking and tried climbing your legs to sit on your shoulder

💝 You just picked him up and sat him there as he made grabby hands to the pot which you were cooking with

💝 Gizmo listened to your explanation as to what Thanksgiving was and the food you were making was

💝 He’s so clueless about it it’s adorable af

💝 You better make sure he doesn’t sneak any pumpkin pie after midnight, or else you’re screwed

💝 Gizmo is the sweetest and tries helping you cook every single year, no matter what

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🍭 He hated this so much

🍭 He wanted it to be Halloween again, he wanted to make sure people were behaving and honoring the traditions

🍭 Who was gonna do that here?!

🍭 Sam did not want to help you cook, he didn’t believe in this holiday, do he didn’t care about the foods of it

🍭 But, after a while, and a lot of sugar bribing, he finally helped you with certain things, like going to the store with you to buy a turkey

🍭 He also helped you butcher the turkey, even though you said carve, he prefers butcher

🍭 You butcher meat, you don’t carve it! Don’t dishonor the pumpkins!

🍭 Sam is one of the most stubborn when it comes to eating the food

“ Samhain, eat it. “

* shakes his head no *

“ Sam. “

🍭 Once he finally caves, he goes immediately to his room to ‘sleep’ (idk if he actually sleeps, just guessing there)

🍭 Overall, just a sourpuss (just about as bad as Michael)

151 notes · View notes

phantom-playdough · 2 years

Text

Human!Bill Cipher x GN!Reader: What's Valentine's Day?

Side note for the sake of the story: Bill and the Pines family are on friendly terms in this timeline. Just pretend, okay!?

TW: SLIGHT Attempted Sexual Assault, NOT BY BILL.

I promised my viewers on my YouTube channel that I would do a Bill Cipher x reader story, and people have wanted me to write such for years. So, I might as well give the people what they want and incorporate Valentine's Day. Hope you guys enjoy!

Guide: (N/n) = Nickname (F/B/F) = Favorite breakfast food

~~~

Y/n woke up to a certain someone booping their nose lightly. They opened their eyes, not fond of the fact that they were being awoken from their sleep. Of course, their best friend Bill was crouching in front of their face, mere hairs away.

"What do you want, Bill?" Y/n asked, not commenting on how close he was.

"I got a question for ya, sweets." He said, a bored expression coming over his face.

Sweets?

Y/n sat up and rubbed their eyes. "Well, what is it?" They decided to indulge in this conversation even though they had just woken up. Despite the rude awakening, Y/n struggled with the concept of being mad at Bill for an extended period of time.

He was too cute for his own good, honestly...

Bill hopped onto Y/n's bed, making Y/n bounce in the air a little bit.

"I heard Wendy talkin' 'bout some Valentine's Day thing? What the heck is that?"

Y/n blinked at that. "You don't know what Valentine's Day is?"

Bill shrugged. "I haven't been in this realm for that long, Y/n. Besides, you humans have too many holidays for me to remember."

It was hard to argue that when Y/n thought about it. December was overwhelming for Bill and, by extension, them because he was so confused by all the various traditions and holidays around that time of year.

"Valentine's Day is about expressing your l-love for others." Y/n saw the way Bill's uncovered eye widen in surprise. So, they were quick to add, "But it doesn't have to be about romantic love. It can be expressing love for friends or family. A-Although it is mostly advertised by people to be about romantic love. You normally do all of this by giving people gifts."

Y/n kicked themself in the head mentally at the fact that they kept stuttering with their words. It was too early for this conversation.

Luckily, almost suspiciously, Bill seemed to be eager to drop the topic almost as fast as it was brought up.

"Welp! Thanks for telling me, Y/n! Ya wanna go get breakfast at the diner?" Y/n was about to answer verbally, but their stomach seemed eager to answer by growling very loudly.

Bill cackled, slapping his knee dramatically. "I'll take that as a 'yes'!" He then stood up and left for the door, but he looked back at Y/n right before leaving. A serious look was on his face that made Y/n's hands sweat.

"Just outta curiosity, Y/n, do you have anybody you're gonna give a Valentine's Day gift to?"

Y/n flushed at that and wiped their hands on their blanket. "Uh, I was kinda just planning to give some stuff to Stan, Ford, and Soos." It was easy to see the glare from Bill. "I don't know what I would get you, Bill! I don't know what in this dimension would be a good gift for you."

Bill's face softens up. "Relax, Y/n. I'm just playin'. But I could say the same for you, though."

"Don't worry about getting me anything, Bill. Save that energy for someone you really like." Y/n said, brushing off the idea and hiding their feelings in the process.

In all honesty, Y/n really wanted to get Bill something. But making something would be hard to do, especially because Valentine's Day was tomorrow. Buying him something would serve to be even more impossible! Only a few months ago, he came into this dimension as a human and turned a new leaf. He hasn't had much time to adjust to how things were here. So, Y/n didn't know what would even serve as a good gift for him! Let alone whether he would want a practical gift or a sentimental gift.

But the idea of Bill giving them something made them even more uneasy than the other way around. Plus, Y/n didn't even consider the idea of what if Bill liked them back. It was not likely in their eyes.

Bill noticed how Y/n's face dropped a little at their own words, but he decided for once to not blab too much. Instead, he said, "Whatever you say, N/n. I'll meet ya downstairs." Bill then left the room without waiting for a response.

Y/n felt a little sad that Bill didn't argue with them about what they said, but they figured he didn't feel anything romantic for them. They brushed the disappointment aside and went ahead and got dressed.

When they came downstairs, Y/n was puzzled to not see Bill anywhere in sight.

"Bill? Where are you?" They called out.

No response.

Right when Y/n was about to call out again, they were poked in the middle of their back. They yelped out in surprise and turned around to see a certain smug blonde smirking down at them.

"Shut up, will you?" Y/n snipped, despite Bill not saying anything.

Bill's smirk only grew at that. "It's not my fault you space out so much, N/n." He flicked their forehead playfully. "Come on, let's go get some of those waffle-cakes."

"Pancakes, Bill." Y/n corrected.

"They're almost the exact same thing, Y/n!" Bill defended dramatically, making Y/n roll their eyes.

So, after a 15-minute walk that involved debating about pancakes and waffles, Bill and Y/n made it to the diner. The pair walked in and ordered their food. Y/n had (F/B/F), and Bill had pancakes, waffles, and a giant milkshake. When Y/n questioned why he got the milkshake, he said that having a brain freeze was amusing to him.

Once the meal was done, Bill begged asked for Y/n to go with him to the movie theater to see some random romantic comedy. Y/n had tried to ask him why he wanted to see it. But he only said, "It's research, sweetheart."

Y/n blushed as red as a rose at being called 'sweetheart', so much so that they completely dropped the topic.

So, they bought two tickets for the romantic movie. However, Bill was also bugging them to buy a GIANT thing of popcorn.

"I don't even know if the two of us can finish that when we literally just ate, Bill."

"Come on, Y/n! The popcorn is one of the most important parts!"

"To what?"

"To my research! Come on, please?" Bill once again begged.

Not wanting to hold up the line behind them because of their bickering with Bill and also not being able to say no to him left Y/n no other choice but to buy the popcorn.

Once they both got into the theater, Bill pulled Y/n to the back row, and they sat down. After the previews, Y/n started getting hungry from the aroma of popcorn next to them. Bill kept the bucket of popcorn in between the two of them so both of them could eat from it.

However, Y/n noticed Bill had not made a move to start eating any of it. They were confused, but they were not about to let the money they spent get thrown into the movie theater trash can without a fight.

So, Y/n reached their hand in to grab a handful of popcorn. But right as they put their hand in the bucket, Bill had put his hand in. As a result, their hands end up brushing against one another. Startled, Y/n retracted their hand and muttered an apology. Bill didn't respond to it at all, which only served to make the whole thing both more awkward and suspicious.

Instead, he only took some popcorn and munched away. Y/n waited for a good three to four seconds and reached in again to grab some when Bill brushed his hand against theirs again!

One time could just be an innocent mistake. But twice? The odds of that happening twice didn't make sense to Y/n. But they still muttered an apology and were ABOUT to pull their hand away. However, Bill clearly had different plans.

He simply grabbed Y/n's hand and held it in his own. Y/n looked at him in surprise, but Bill was just looking straight ahead at the movie with a semi-bored expression while he rubbed circles on Y/n's hand as though it was the most NORMAL thing in this dimension.

But if he wasn't making a big deal about this, why should they?

At least, that's what Y/n thought. So, despite them blushing profusely, they didn't pull away. But Bill just HAD to speak right when the embarrassment was dying down.

"Do all you humans sweat so much when holding hands?" He didn't even take his gaze off the movie when he asked.

"S-sorry." Y/n apologized again and tried to pull their hand away. But Bill tightened his grip. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough to prevent them from slipping their hand out of his.

"It's fine, sweetheart." Bill spoke with a smirk, leaving Y/n a bright red, blushing mess.

After the movie, the pair almost killed the whole bucket of popcorn despite Bill refusing to let go of Y/n's hand.

The both of them exited the theater room when Y/n realized they forgot their phone at their seat. So they told Bill, "I'll be right back! Forgot my phone!" They didn't wait for him to respond as they rushed back in to grab it.

Y/n felt panic surge through them as they did not see their phone near their seat. But a guy who was cleaning up the row below clearly noticed Y/n's distressed face and said, "I take it this is yours?" Sure enough, he held up Y/n's phone.

"Oh, my God, yes! Thank you!" Y/n said, taking it from the guy.

"No problem. Uh, mind if I have your number?"

Y/n's face paled a little at the question. They didn't even know the guy's name, not seeing a name tag on him. They did NOT feel comfortable giving this random dude their number.

"O-oh, uh..." Luckily, the universe decided to bless Y/n with a savior at that moment. Right then and there, Bill walked over next to Y/n.

"I think they do mind, buddy." Bill spoke with venom. He appeared out of nowhere, practically. He must've come in when Y/n wasn't paying attention. But for once, they didn't mind him sneaking up on them.

The guy looked at Bill with a scowl. "Uh, who are you to be deciding that for them?"

Bill came closer to Y/n and put his hand around their waist, pulling them into him. But what Bill said next sent chills up Y/n's spine.

"They're off limits, kiddo. Turn around now before you see something you might regret..." The guy was spooked enough by Bill that he sped out of the room without a beat.

Once he was gone, Bill let a breath out through his nose he didn't know he was holding and turned to Y/n. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. You saved my skin there." They tried to laugh the whole thing off, but Bill clearly saw that Y/n was shaken up. He took their hand in his again and intertwined his fingers with theirs. The two of them stayed like that for a while when Y/n tried to change the subject.

"Is this a part of your research?"

"What?" Y/n squeezed his hand to specify what they meant. "Oh, haha, you could say that." Bill said as he squeezed back.

"Are you ready to head back to the Mystery Shack?"

Bill smirked and pulled Y/n outside. "Not quite. We got one last stop."

~~~

Eventually, Y/n and Bill were out in the woods. But by this point, it was dark out, and Y/n could hardly see anything in front of them. But Bill stayed ahead of them and assured them that this would all be worth it.

After a few more minutes of walking, the pair made it out to a small clearing in the trees. Bill let go of Y/n's hand and made a picnic blanket appear on the ground a few feet ahead of them. He sat down and gestured for Y/n to join him.

They did, and Bill pointed up at the sky. Y/n was blown away at what they saw.

A meteor shower.

"Ya know, they normally say to make a wish when you see a bunch of shooting stars, right Y/n?" Bill asked with a genuine smile.

"Yeah." They then closed their eyes and made a wish. When they opened their eyes, they noticed Bill looking at them.

"What'd you wish for?" He asked as if he really was curious.

"If I tell you, it won't come true."

"Oh, Y/n, you underestimate me." Bill said confidently.

Y/n looked down. "I wished that you and I would be friends forever." They said softly.

Bill's face immediately turned a bit sad at that. "Just friends?" He asked seriously.

"What?"

"Just friends?" Bill repeated, looking almost nervous.

Y/n blinked. First in confusion. Then realization. Then shock. "Bill, are you having a brain freeze or something?" They asked with a nervous laugh.

"No? Why?" Bill felt a little hurt at that comment. What made Y/n think that?

"Because there is no way you're serious right now. It's either that or you're pulling my leg."

"Come on, Y/n. Even I'm not that cruel. Not... anymore."

"Well, what else would make you ask me something like that?"

"You." Bill didn't skip a beat in replying. But he knew that Y/n was going to take the high road in this. Besides, if he was going to be rejected, he might as well go down swinging.

"I mean, I've only known you for a few months. But I've lived longer than you humans could comprehend, and I have never felt the way I have when I'm with you. The moments we have together are kinda simple, but I like it that way. You make the boring things humans do fun for me, and you've been patient with me while I try and learn about this dimension. I couldn't do all the fun stuff we do with anyone else in this town. You seemed so simple when I first met you. But you're even more strange than I am because of how you put up with me. What more could I ask for in--" Bill hesitated in the last words of that thought. "--in someone I love?"

Y/n struggled to take this all in. They weren't even totally sure if Bill could feel any attraction to someone in this dimension. But the speech he gave seemed very genuine, and it was clear he wasn't joking around at all.

Before Y/n could reply, Bill snapped his fingers and made a small golden necklace appear. There was a single golden triangle charm with the same grooves Bill had in his triangular form hanging from the chain. But instead of his one eye in the center like his demon form, there was a black, heart-shaped diamond.

"I'm not gonna force ya into anything you don't want, Y/n. But if you do feel the same, I want you to have this." Bill said, holding the necklace out for the taking.

Y/n didn't even need to ponder the offer. They knew their feelings for Bill. So, they took the necklace from him and put it on. Bill released a breath that he again didn't know he was holding.

"I wished for you to return my feelings." He muttered. Y/n laughed.

"You didn't need to wish for that. It's already true."

"So is your wish." Bill then wrapped an arm around Y/n, pulling them close to him.

"Happy Valentines Day, Bill Cipher." Y/n said before they leaned up and kissed him.

The End

#gravity falls #bill cipher x reader #bill cipher #human bill cipher #human bill cipher x reader #gravity falls au #gravity falls x reader

530 notes · View notes

mysticficti0n · 1 year

Text

All my Attention part 3

warnings- swearing, mentions of a dildo, sexual tension, kissing, quite fluffy

words- 3.1k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this part has taken a while- I'm on holiday atm so I probably wont be posting till I'm home BUT I didn't want you to be without, also fucking thank you all so much for the response to the first and second part! I can't believe the response to it, I could've cried because im a baby , love you all 🤍

(also to the people who've sent requests they will be coming soon!)

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

"exactly what I said- we can't keep doing the same thing at every show" Georg spoke shovelling eggs into his mouth, the band and our runners, managers, directors, and everyone else who I didn't know exactly what they did for us... were all sat on tables eating breakfast before rehearsal "because I'm sorry if we go on tour I wont wanna blow my brain out because i'm playing by your side for the millionth time"

"yeah but there's a thing called a set list, we have to stick with it otherwise" Bill leaned closer into the table facing all of us "otherwise we'd get shit and we all know how Felix will react- we all remember last time" he had a point, Felix as nice as he can act is a massive cock, once in a performance we decided to all go to the front of that stage to say goodnight- but Felix didn't like that and he ended up cancelling our next 3 shows to 'teach us a lesson'

"even so" the bassist grumbled, the conversation fell short as we all continued to eat, I had a bowl of granola, greek yogurt, raspberries and strawberries, soon the scrapping of a chair pulled me from eating my breakfast, I looked up to see Tom in a huge black shirt and basketball shorts "hungry?" Georg joked seeing the pile of food on his friends plate

"a bit" Tom laughed grabbing part of a waffle "whats that?" he spoke looking at me, that was the first time he spoke to me since what happened only an hour before, I think we were both in a shock state still, but I also couldn't deny how good it felt

"granola, yogurt and fruit" I spoke back digging my spoon into the mix and pulling it back so he could have a taste, he bent forward taking the food and hummed

"Tha actuwally gwood" he spoke mouth still full

"ew Thomas swallow for fucks sake!" I spat seeing him nearly choke the food back up "Tom!" I called pushing myself away from the table "whats wrong with you" I laughed I look to see the rest of the boys laughing as well at his stupidity

"we can't go anywhere nice with you two" Bill commented throwing a napkin to his brother who wiped his mouth and finished his laugh

"sorry- I don't know why that was so funny to hear you say" he snorted, I finally sat back in my place next to Gustav who was eating his food with a smile

"all I said was swallow your food" I argued back looking at the guitarist

"normally me saying that to girls-" I rolled my eyes at his words but everyone else chuckled along, after another half an hour (mostly so Tom could finish his monstrous plate) we were bringing our bags down from the hotel room to put in the bus, we all got in the lift which I don't think was made for 5 people, and 2 of those 5 being over six foot tall

"can you move over I can't fucking breath" I spoke shoving Bill back bit

"now I can't breath you cunt!" Bill called back pushing me back laughing, soon the intercom spoke and the doors opened and I made my way out but was soon tackled by the black haired singer

"BILL WHAT THE FUCK" I shouted with a laugh, I crawled from his grip and began running away seeing him get up to and following my movement "AHHH!" I screamed turning a corner and then slipping past a cleaner cart

"Y/N COME HERE!" I herd Tom voice shout as I sprinted to him with his twin hot on my tail, I watched him open his hotel room and I ran as quick as I could into it and slammed the door spitting out a chuckle hearing the boy hit the door

"BITCH!" Bill sang followed by his own laugh and steps faded away from the door, I sat on Tom's bed and lay my head back into the sheets catching my breath hearing the door open again

"you good now?" He asked smiling at me "I didn't realise you were that fast- I swear you weren't when we were kids"

"excuse me! people change" I answered kicking him slightly, he grabbed my ankle stopping me from moving anymore- I melted at his touch which wasn't a usual thing

"mhm, you changed in a good way babe don't worry about it" he flirted looking down at me the smile changing into a smirk

"you're in a very odd mood today mr Kaulitz" I spoke sitting myself as he let go of my ankle

"only for you-" he leant down, pressing his head on mine "and if I remember properly, who moaned when we kissed earlier? hum?" his hand was now resting on the base of my neck "who was it Y/n?"

"I don't know Tom" I answered seeing him bite his lip at my words "maybe you imagined it?" we always played around, flirting but this was different... very different

"I have a fucking good imagination then don't I?" Tom pulled away slightly, his his fingers brushed my skin as he let go and he held my chin, lifting my face to look up to him "....I prefer looking at you like this" I blushed at his words, they made me feel soft

"bet you say that to all the girls" he seethed rolling his eyes

"only the special ones...and you're really special!"

"way to ruin a mood" I huffed

"I'm joking Y/n/n, you just look hot below me ts'all" his hand held me tighter and he bent to reach my lips, he pressed hard humming into the feeling and sucked my bottom lip causing me to have to hold back any noise I threatened to make as I didn't want a repeat of earlier "I better get packing" he spoke pulling back creasing my cheek with his thumb leaving me with a unfulfilled feeling

"yeah.." I pouted, he looked back down at me and grinned

"god don't look at me like that... fuck- stop now, I've gotta pack" I stood with him as he turned to grab a tossed shirt from the floor, his hand glided down my thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps- he knew what he was doing, making me blush and shudder as his hand left me "oopsie"

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

we all sat backstage kicking our heals as the crowd arrived, but we also knew the crowd was special- our families were watching us tonight, I decided I'd wear a more appropriate outfit (not like my family hadn't seen pictures of me in mini-skirts and tube tops saying 'pouty') I looked alot like Tom, my baggy jeans hanging around my hips with a matching tank top to him "5 minuets!" a runner called making us all rise from our places

"excited?" Georg smiled shoving me lightly

"I can't wait" I spoke pinning around to the music that began, Bill looked back at me with a smile followed by a wink

"3...2...1" Felix called and Tom, Bill entered the stage erring a eruption from the crowd "go!" Georg and I walked on and smiled seeing the sea of fans watching us with grins plastering their faces and finally Gustav entered

"GOOD EVENING TRIER" Bill called holding the mic close "ARE YOU EXCITED!" though the lights were blinding I could make out the shapes of bodies from my place "ugh we have a show n' a half for you all tonight, and this show is very special to us- one, this is our last show here in the lovely Trier and- most importantly our biggest fans are here tonight" the lights moved to the box above the crowd and for the first time in weeks I saw them: mom, dad, Stella, the Kaulitz, Listing and Schäfer family, I nearly cried waving to them and blowing them kisses "so tonight is going to be the best show we've ever done guys! ARE YOU READY" I watched as my family cheered and little Stella clapped her hands. Tom's guitar began the start of Scream followed by Gustav and Bill ran back to main stage, the crowd danced and jumped along "SCREAM" they called back to us at every chorus making me laugh.

The night carried on and everything was going amazingly, and it came time for me to take centre stage, I brought my mic and herd people call my name "so- this is our newest piece of music, I originally wrote when I was in a very bad place, and as you all know I'm back up singer so usually I don't perform up here- so close to everyone so I'm a little nervous but.. but it means a lot to me so.. this is 'please don't jump'" claps filled the room and Tom joined me giving me a nod as he plucked away followed by Gustav and Georg, Bill was in the corner sipping a water watching me like a proud dad

I let my self get lost in the music, stomping my feet and twirling around "don't let memories go! of me and you" I sang watching my family stare in awe, I began up stage onto the platform where I stood teetering on the edge, all lights went off besides the one on me "PLEASE DON'T JUMP! DON'T JUMP, AND IF ALL THAT CAN'T HOLD YOU BACK, THEN I'LL JUMP FOR YOU" I finished bowing to the crowd who burst out with claps, screams and calls making me jump at the sudden noise

"Y/N Y/N Y/N!" people began to chant making me well up, Gustav ran up the platform steps holding my hand gently so I could get down the steps as it was tricky in platforms, hand in hand we met with Tom who smiled widely mouthing 'they're proud' I looked to see my mom whistling, soon the five of us stood at the tip of that walkway, people reached for us, calling us all over

"THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!" we all shouted bowing once more as the light darkened, we all walked off and back to our room where there were drinks set out and towel "shit Im so thirsty" Georg spoke grabbing the bottle and cracking it open as we all took our first proper breath and relaxed

"erm- sorry I know you got off stage but someones hear" Gayle, my runner spoke holding the door open a little more

"BABA!" a small voice called, I looked down to see Stella dressed in a Tokio Hotel shirt and orange leggings running toward me, her blonde hair tied into piggy tails

"STELLA!" I cried falling to my knees pulling her into my arms "oh my god I missed you so much" I whispered into her neck, her bright eyes looked into mine and I couldn't let go of her, I pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks

"Oh my- Y/n dear! another voice came in and I snapped my head to see my mother, tear stained face reaching for me, I watched as Stella ran onto Gustav who picked her up hugging her tightly and I ran to my mom who was closely followed by the rest of our families "sunshine I missed you!"

"I missed you too mom" I cried as she stroked my hair away from my face, she let go and I turned to see my dad who had Tom in a bro-hug

"aww hello Poppy!" he spoke, I nearly fell apart hearing my nickname again, and he grabbed me into the hug "aw that was amazing kids" he spoke letting go of us, I stood speaking with them until I herd the voice of my sister

"Tommy!" she laughed and everyones faces snapped to her

"SHE SAID MY NAME!" The dreadheaded boy called lifting her into his arms and tickling her "ME BEFORE BILL!" he danced seeing her smile

"Hey! Stella I thought you liked me more!" Bill huffed squishing the cheeks of her face

"am I the better twin?...yeah! I know" Tom scoffed bouncing her on his hip, our families laughed and all began hugging each other

"darlings that show was fantastic and the crowd! I couldn't believe it" Simone, the twins mom smiled "I couldn't be more proud"

"thanks mom" Bill hugged pressing a kiss to her cheek "wait..erm hold on!" we all watched as the singer ran out calling for something, I turned to see Stella smiling and reaching for all the boys, Tom, Georg and Gustav were sat on the floor singing songs and twirling her around, the song finished and Stella did a bow making the boys laugh at her antics

"Baba!" the little blonde called reaching for me, Tom realised and quickly scooped her up so she was lying on her tummy with her arms out she began airplane sounds (but kept interrupting herself with her chuckles) "Brrrrrrrrr!" she grinned showing her two small teeth

"aww my baby airplane" I spoke reaching for her as Tom got closer, the two reached me and I took my sister from his arms spinning her while pressing a kiss to her cheek again "you're a very cute plane Stella"

"Plane!" she repeated getting a 'yeah a plane' from the guitarist who couldn't stop smiling

"Okay... everyone come stand over here were getting a photo!" Bill came back in grabbing his family, the line up was the Kaulitz' far left, then my family the Y/l/n's, then the Schäfer's and finally Listing's "We want a few!" Bill called to the person holding the camera

"1...2....3" everyone did a wide smile, even Stella knew what was going on "perfect, do you want another one of these then we can do different stuff like.. the point?" its like a lightbulb went off it the taller twins head

"okay yes... then the point, then serious faces, then one with us 5 a bit more infront of our families, then on chairs" he rambles while setting us all back out for the next 3000 photo's we'd be taking

I don't think I've ever herd the numbers 1,2 and 3 said so much in my life but after half an hour the pictures were finally done and in fairness they looked great "well we best get going" Christine, Georg's mom spoke grabbing her bag

"oh.." we began before Simone whispered something to her husband

"why don't you all come stay round ours? we can have a family night, drinks, games, food" me and the band cheered, quickly grabbing our stuff and getting ready to walk out- we knew that today being a day show, fans would be waiting for us- we decided the safest option was to give our families over to security along with our bags and walk out on our own

"okay Stella we'll see you in a little while okay?" I hugged her once more before giving her over to dad who was carrying her out, we waited till we knew they were in their cars and I came the time we'd be walking out, with one last check of the room we began outside, screams filled our ears, people threw flowers to us, cards, papers and... thongs- but we picked the flowers up. a few people grabbed at my clothing but besides that it was a safe 3 minuet walk from the building to the bus

"they were loud" Gustav spoke getting into his favourite seat, at the very back on the left "Georg come sit!" he called to the bassist who jumped through the seats, leaving Bill who liked sitting in the front then me and Tom sat in the middle two seats

"god I fucking loved that show" I spoke belting myself in, Tom did the same and our hands brushed- its not something that many would really worry about, it was an accident.. but I could help go hot at the feeling

"it was so good, I feel like we'll be in Felix's good books" the dreaded boy spoke getting a nod from the band, we finally began the drive home, it would only take around an hour and a half so I got myself comfy which meant me resting my legs over Tom- this was a normal thing as usually sometime around the trip we'd switch and I can accidentally put my cold drink on his legs while he's asleep definitely not making him yelp- no not at all...

"can you take my shoes off, you're closer" I spoke tapping his shoulder and with a huff he began unlacing the platforms, I sighed at the feeling of my feet going light and not having to lug those shoes around any more "thanks bab" I called leaning my head back, Tom got comfy to, scooting deeper into the seat and his hands lay on my legs drawing small shapes and humming a long to whatever song was on the radio

"wanna know something crazy?" He asked looking over at me to which I nodded "I haven't fucked a girl since Tuesday, and its Friday now" I pretend to be shocked, slapping my hands to my face

"holy shit! that is crazy!" he rolled his eyes "I can't even remember when I last fucked someone- probably around my birthday" I sighed slightly annoyed, not that I'm some sex freak who needs to be constantly fucked to live but... my birthday is in February and its now July

"damn... how do you go that long?" Georg spoke uncrossing his arms, being genuinely interested

"Notta clue... I-"

"Y/n I know whats in the back draw in your room" Bill turned showing a sinister smile

"Bill!" I called knowing exactly what he was on about

"ooo" the boys cooed making me go red, Bill laughed even harder pointing at my face "aww! she's embarrassed about her dil-"

"BILL SHUT IT!" I shouted flinging my empty water bottle at him making him cackle throwing his pillow at me

"IT'S BLACK!" He called and the 4 boys Burt out laughing again spluttering words and coughing at how much they were laughing

"oh my god you are all dicks!" I groaned trying to push myself as far back into my seat as I could, I even took my legs down from Tom who I could realised but I was way to embarrassed to give him a 'look'

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

"he traffic isn't moving so were going to be a little later to the Kaulitz" Gregory our driver spoke facing us

"ugh" we all collectively sighed, its been over 30 minuets of just stand-still traffic, cars horns went off but nothing was moving and being a warm day in a quite packed van it was getting hot

we'd moved past the dildo conversation thanks to Tom who made a fool of himself by spilling water all down his shirt- I did wonder though, was it on purpose? to take away the attention from me... but anyways whatever it was, or even just it was an accident- my legs were back on his and he continued to draw little shapes

"I'm going to sleep" Bill spoke looking back to which we gave a nod, by we I mean me and Tom as the other two fell asleep a few minuets back, the van sound turned quiet as the radio was turned off

"wanna play a game?" Tom spoke quietly

"sure, which game?" I asked seeing a little grin appear to his face

"erm... eye spy?"

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #00s #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz imagines #kaulitz twins #gustav schäfer #georg listing #bill kaulitz #Germany #🇩🇪#scream #monsoon

265 notes · View notes

ducktoonsfanart · 3 months

Text

Donald Duck, Daisy Duck and Drake Mallard with their kids support Palestine in Jerusalem - Happy Eid al-Adha - Happy Father's Day! - Duck comics, Ducktales and Darkwing Duck - Duckverse

I wish all Muslims who celebrate a happy Eid! That is, Eid al-Adha. In addition to Eid al-Fitr, one of the biggest Muslim holidays when the Hajj begins and the day of offering to God as well as the remembrance of the deceased. On those days, sacrificial meat is cut, especially meat related to Eid al-Adha. It is celebrated because on that day, Abraham was supposed to sacrifice his son at God's command until the Archangel Gabriel (Jibril among Muslims) intervened, so Abraham (Ibrahim among Muslims) instead slaughtered a ram as a thanksgiving sacrifice to God the creator. An animal (mainly a lamb) is sacrificed and the meat itself is sacrificed and divided into three parts. The family keeps one third; the second third is given to relatives, friends and neighbors; the third third is given to the poor and vulnerable.

Today is also Father's Day, which is celebrated every third Sunday in June in America and around the world, while in some countries, Father's Day varies from country to country. So Happy Father's Day to all fathers, uncles and grandfathers.

On this occasion and because of current events, I drew Donald Duck, Daisy Duck and Drake Mallard with their children holding Palestinian flags. I am not in the habit of promoting anyone like this, nor am I on anyone's side but the right side, but a great tragedy is happening in Palestine, especially in Gaza where people are dying en masse, especially women and children. And not only Muslims, but also Palestinian Christians (Catholics and Orthodox), with whom I most identify and sympathize. However, many people send through their mobile phones what is happening and most people are engaged to help them as well as about the crimes committed against them. I'm just against such injustice so I drew this, of course they are in Jerusalem where they defend the Golden Dome of the Rock as well as Al Aqsa, important Muslim temples because that's where Muhammad ascended to heaven. A certain group of orthodox and ultra Jews want to destroy it in order to build their temple, and for me as a Christian, this is unacceptable, especially considering that their messiah is a Christian Antichrist, but that is a long story to tell. Certainly, after Gaza, the next goal is Jerusalem and the expulsion of Muslims from that city as well as Christians, and I am against that and that injustice, and I am asking people to get involved in this and to help people as much as possible, regardless of whether through prayers, petitions or sending donations. Like sending real food, not toys. And no, I'm not for Hezbollah or the terrorists, but for the common people who are suffering from it, and they need a lot of help. Here's one way to help: https://afsc.org/news/6-ways-you-can-support-palestinians-gaza

Of course, support drawings like this mean nothing, but they mean moral support and will definitely not stop the current genocide that is happening, but it can help you know what it is about and spread the message to others. And if someone asks me, a lot of Jews who advocate for a Palestinian state are in solidarity with Muslims and Christians and are against the evil that is happening. So spread the word, so they know what's going on.

Yes, I drew Donald Duck, Daisy Duck, Drake Mallard, Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck and Gosalyn Mallard from Darkwing Duck fighting wrongdoing and defeating the evil in Jerusalem with unity and harmony against the evil happening in Gaza. Of course I drew in my own way in the classic version. My only apology is that Daisy is not wearing a headscarf, my fault.

And not only in Palestine, but all over the world where injustice is done. Rest in peace to those people who have suffered so far, amen.

And I hope you liked this drawing and if you support this, and who support Palestine, please like and reblog this! Just don't use my same ideas without mentioning me, thanks! I also wish all Muslims a Happy Eid al-Adha and a Happy Father's Day to all fathers, uncles and grandfathers! Yes, Donald Duck is a great uncle to his nephews, just as Drake Mallard is a great father to his daughter.

43 notes · View notes

our-happygirl500-fan · 1 year

Text

During Revenge of the Spider Queen we briefly see that Sandy has a Raph doll

I have seen a few people point this moment out & it is generally considered as a kind of nice little reference to how Flying Bark worked on both shows but something that I was kind of thinking of was that it sort of makes sense for Sandy to possibly have Raph as his favourite Turtle or at the very least like Raph’s character as both of them sort of seem to fit the ‘gentle giant’ archetype.

Which kind of made me think about which Turtles might possibly be certain Monkie Kid character’s possible favourites

For Pigsy I think that his favourite Turtles could possibly be both Raph & Mikey

Raph: Here’s the plan, we smash our way in and keep smashing until we’ve smashed that armour piece right into our smashy little hands

For Raph I think that Pigsy might possibly enjoy the ‘smash first, ask questions later’ attitude that Raph can sometimes have as Pigsy seems to sometimes like to display himself as a sort of ‘tough guy’

Mikey: Trust me one satisfying dish is all we need to win this challenge

Pigsy: I told ya MK, good food takes time

Considering both Mikey & Pigsy are chefs I think that Pigsy might possibly like Mikey as a character due to Mikey’s respect & passion for the culinary arts. I also think that Mikey might remind Pigsy a bit of MK due to their optimism which might possibly be something that endears Pigsy towards Mikey’s character

For Tang I think that his favourite Turtles could possibly be both Mikey & Leo, similarly to Pigsy I think Tang might enjoy Mikey’s character due to Mikey possibly reminding him of MK but I also think Tang might enjoy Leo’s character due to the fact that Tang seems to love stories

Tang: It’s not a diary, I’m writing the next chapter

We’re shown that Tang seems to enjoy stories as shown by his love for JTTW so the fact that Rise Leo’s character is arguably designed to evolve over time might possibly appeal to Tang, it might be possible that Tang would enjoy watching Leo grow & reach his potential as a leader over time.

For Red Son, I think that it might be possible that Red Son’s favourite Turtle would be Donnie due to the fact that they are both inventors.

MK: Come on! Where did you get that?

Red Son: What? You think I drive anything that doesn’t have at least one complex transformation?

Raph: Why are there only two?

Donnie: I’m afraid I have not gotten around to making the rest, maybe they’ll come out during the holiday season, so you’ll know they’re special!

For Mei I think that her favourite Turtles could possibly be both Donnie & Leo, for Leo I think Mei might primarily possibly like the fact that they both use swords & are protective of their loved one and for Donnie I think that Mei might possibly like the fact that they are both technologically minded as Mei enjoys getting new pieces of tech throughout the show.

Mei: I even got a sweet new jet!

Another reason that Mei might possibly have Donnie as one of her favourite Turtles is that Purple Dragon episodes are arguably mostly Donnie centric episodes & Mei might enjoy their dragon motif.

For MK, I think the Turtle that might possibly be his favourite might possibly be Mikey as Mikey might be the Turtle that MK relates to the most as they both try to stay optimistic & keep their loved ones together.

MK might also possibly relate to Mikey in how they both seem to have strong mystic powers which they both need to learn how to master & control.

For SWK while I think he might possibly claim he doesn’t have a favourite Turtle I think SWK might possibly relate to Leo the most.

SWK: You know this is kind of easier than I thought it would be

Leo: What I can’t make a joke in the middle of the craziest thing ever? That’s how I cope

SWK might possibly relate to Leo’s character as their are a few similarities between the two such as the fact that they both seem to use humour as a coping mechanism during stressful situations, as well as the fact that they both seem to be protective of those that they care about.

However what I think SWK might relate to the most about Leo is them both possibly feeling responsible for people they care about getting hurt or being put in danger.

Some parallels could possibly be made between Leo loosing the Key & a piece of The Samadhi Fire getting away from SWK when trying to seal it.

I’m not really sure if SWK seeing himself in Leo would possibly make Leo his favourite Turtle but I do think that SWK might possibly find himself relating to Leo on occasion.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #lego monkie kid #lmk #rottmnt #tmnt

354 notes · View notes

astarion-can-spawn-me · 1 year

Text

Work Ethic

Park Ranger! Halsin x Park Ranger!Reader

Modern!Au because why the hell not?

Summary: may or may not have been heavily inspired by the park rangers I grew up around at my local culture center. That little old place holds such a special place in my heart. I am a junior park ranger after all 😎

Sweat beaded at your brow, but your hand was quick to delicately pat it away. The summers were unforgiving, even under the gray skies of the early morning. Though you could see off to the distance, just peeking over the green tree tops and old buildings of the past, just the faintest hues of orange and reds just ready to burst from beyond their little horizon. With the rays came the few farmers that lived within the small town, bidding their wives and children goodbye, the faint yelping of a dog from behind their glass windows are their happy panting as they hopped up along side their masters in their pick up. They would only have to drive a few miles further up a ways to hit their farms where they have been settled for the past 100 years or so.

It was an odd place to have a little culture center in such a small town, but a small town emblazoned with their own culture and tradition. Old murals adorned the sides of old buildings, depicting musicians and food. Though many of the locals didn’t visit the culture center, maybe occasionally for their child’s school field trip, it definitely didn’t see the action of it’s sister centers in the bigger cities nearby, but around certain holidays it would see it’s fair share of tourist, but now it was just another simple day.

This was far away from what you thought a park ranger would ever be doing. You always pictured a Steve Irwin type herding people through muddy river basins or through rough and rocky terrain along forest trails. You’ve come to appreciate the cultural and historical aspect of it all, it was probably for the best.

“Oh this stupid damned thing!” Huffed out a voice as you pushed past the glass doors. A thud came after it as a woman scrunched her face to the old thermostat. “You would think they would allow us to control our own AC instead of having to call the head office!”

“Now Ms.Jaheira, patience is a virtue!” You teased, your hat now being placed upon your head, fingers pinning the badge to your freshly ironed shirt.

Jaheira was a veteran in the field, hopping from one national park to the next. Her knowledge was admirable, but sometimes you would always catch the look of longing in those wise eyes, but the laid back nature suited her, at least now it did. It was less of a burden on her weathered shoulders, less pressure upon herself. If you did have to categorize her, she would have been the Steve Irwin type you always imagined as a child. She was the one to hobble through muddy basins and conquer rough woodland trails.

“Well good thing the all maker has bestowed such a prized gift onto you!” She chimed up, finally the ancient AC humming to life. Already the cool air began cutting through the stiff air like a knife. “It’s field trip day, remember”

She was already following you to the break room, her steps always precise, always made with confidence. Though she still gave you a stern look as your head tilted back with a little groan as you tossed your purse onto the table.

“Yes I know, which is why I have double checked with everyone today. Musicians are gonna be the first for their music demonstration. Then our local butcher has kindly volunteered for a cooking demonstration and you would be pleased that he is exonerated in one of our local dishes” your hand went to grab the phone out of your pants pocket, now scrolling through emails to double check your memory of the day’s itinerary. “Then dear old Elminster will calm things down with his history of the area and whatnot, then lunch time which has been donated. I also contacted wildlife and fisheries to have someone teach the kids the laws and safe handling of the wild life of the area, but they said they are sending over a ranger from one of the wildlife parks….oh! And then the old woman who runs the quilting club in the spare room will give a weaving lesson”

“Wow, I’m impressed” Jaheira said with a raise of her brows, a hand sassily placed upon her hip. “And you will be pleased to know I have set up the rooms for the different demonstrations, the band is here, Elminster is currently critiquing our displays, and the food preparations are all in order” she confirmed with you. Always orderly, you can always trust her to keep everything in line as well. A nice pair the two of your made. “It’s just our fellow park ranger we are waiting on…” she huffed out as she looked to the watch upon her wrist.

There was no time to worry about that, as the quiet humming of engines were already heard within the small break room. The wholesome sounds of buses, the chirping of kids and their teachers already urging them to quiet down. That was Jaheira’s cue to walk back to the front, opening the doors, that prideful smile upon her face as she greeted the children, their small bodies already pouring into the room, her voice already rising above all others to give off the usual spiel.

“Alright children! Are you ready to learn about your culture and history!’ She shouted excitedly to the children, already leading the group to the displays that lined the halls and little rooms, skillfully giving her explanations to the group of kids.

It left you to round up the musicians into their places, checking in on the cooking demonstrator, but of course…that left Elminster.

“Stop a bit and speak to an old man” he huffed out behind that wise, old beard of his as he clutched a shaky hand onto your outstretch arm.

“Maybe later Mr.Elminster, there’s a lot to do as you know” you said with a smile as you began urging him to the room that the band was setting up. “The kids are going to listen to the music, then head to the cooking demonstration and then head back to you, so it will give you much to ponder of how you are gonna educate them” you spoke up as you lead him to the room, helping him sit upon one of the upholstered chair.

“You are certainly right my dear, even though getting older is suppose to make one wise, it is still hard to find that right words, especially on an empty stomach” he said with a wink, but you already knew what he was eluding to.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have Jaheira bring you a plate when they are done with the cooking demonstration for lunch” which he gave you a kind pat on your bent down shoulder, all the response you needed to straighten up from your hunched down position. Though you were met by a towering figure the moment you turned around.

“My apologies for being late, I kind of got lost out here…” the man was huge, strong stature. Scars on his face, tattoos peeking out from his collared shirt, trailing up upon his face. You were pretty certain even if you were standing further away from him, you could still pick up the scent of fresh dirt and leaves that permeated from him. Even the faintest scent of sweat, but not in a bad way, in an endearing way if that makes sense. Like the smell of a hard working father coming home to engulf his children in a hug.

“I’m sorry, you are….?” You trailed off as you bent your neck to look at him, eyes slightly squinting to the badge on his shirt.

“Park Ranger Halsin, wildlife and fisheries sent me out here for a demonstration, I use to work for them, but I ended up taking a position at the wildlife refuge at the coast” he explained, already following your steps as you began to lead him back to the entrance. He may have not known, but you were skillfully avoiding a tangent from the old Elminster. He may have been a wise man, but a wise man with many words that lead simply nowhere at times.

“Yes of course, let’s get you set up in our other demonstration room” you spoke out, now quickly following his lead to the glass doors. “And I don’t blame you, it may be a small city, but this place is tucked away, definitely not as grand as the other culture centers” you bashfully said as you followed him up to his truck, tailgate already being lifted down with those strong, calloused hands of his. You could even see the faintest traces of dirt on his hands.

“But still important none the less” he said with a soft smile as he reached into the back, already pulling forward boxes and strangely a pet carrier. You tried to slyly lean a bit to peak at what he could possibly have stored in there.

“Oh this is Philippe” he said, almost with a childlike excitement as he opened the pet carrier. Of all things you would have never expected a raccoon to lazy start reaching up for him. But he excepted the creature with open arms. “I uh…rescued him and he’s been with me ever since. Also a good way of showing off our native species.” those strong arms held the creature tenderly, like a father to his offspring.

“I can’t say I encounter raccoons that are companions.” You were astonished, fingers tenderly giving the animal’s head a little scratch. Though those hands of yours grabbed on of the boxes he pulled forward, Philippe already knowingly hopping upon the other one as Halsin grabbed it.

“They definitely shouldn’t be pets, I know that may sound hypocritical coming from me, but you know how raccoons like to wash their food before they eat it? Well I let him do it back home…and he got ahold of my cellphone too, so not a good mix. I also learned rice doesn’t really help with water logged phone either.” You knew the scornful look he gave the raccoon was all in playfulness, which made a little laugh bubble to your lips. You could already picture it in your head.

“Your dear Philippe sounds like a menace.” You giggled out as you pushed past the doors once more, he following after you through the gush of cold air that blew up to greet you from the comfort of the culture center. Your ears also perked up to the sounds of the lively music coming from one of the demonstration rooms, intertwined with laughter of the children.

“Well, he is still a wild animal at heart I suppose” he chimed, his heavy footsteps following you to the empty demonstration room, his box being set upon the table set up front, already laying out his items.

Different pressed leaves now displayed out, the branches of different native plants. All the works of what’s was very befitting of a park ranger who dealt with the more wild side of the job description. He even had animal traps out as well.

“Alright, I’ll give you a rundown. I’m gonna inform the kids of different plants in the area, which ones are safe and not safe, native and common animals, insects, birds. I will also go over safety, why I have the animal traps.” He explained as he motioned to all the stuff he had set out. “Even though they should always be supervised while out in forested areas, it is still better to be able to recognize traps that farmers could set up for coyotes and bobcats and know not to touch them.” He listed off as he squatted down to once again cradle the raccoon in his arms, the raccoon lazily accepting his fate in the comfortable embrace. Now that the fast paced introduction was over, you could finally admire the man before you.

Yes he was tall and strong, but attractive. His hair whisped about his shoulders. A braid or two peaking out and adorned with thin pieces of colorful thread and an occasional decorative bead. Even having such an intimidating stature, those eyes were kind and gentle. Almost as if you were starring into the eyes of a farmers most trusted companion, his loyal dog. Those scars upon his face couldn’t diminish that softness.

But his shirt….you could see those well earned muscles bulge beneath that gray uniform shirt. Who knew those frumpy uniforms could look so flattering. You didn’t let your fleeting eyes linger for too long as you connected your gaze with his again.

“Well I’ll leave you to finish setting up, but I’m sure the kids will enjoy dear old Philippe, I’ll send the group over after the cooking demonstration, I can try and push back Elminster after everyone has eaten, maybe it will help him be better with his words.” You couldn’t help but give a little huff of a small laugh at your own little joke, even if he did not understand quite yet himself, but he only nodded, that kind smile still upon those lips.

“Me and Philippe will be waiting happily” he said, motioning to the raccoon whose head simply lulled lazily about. Such a pampered and spoiled creature, you could tell he was lovingly cared and doted on.

Elminster was delighted by the news once you quietly reported back to him when the kids had all migrated to the cooking demonstration room. So your little hunch about him wanting to eat first was correct.

“So…I see our fellow park ranger is quite the sight…” Jaheira spoke out quietly to you from the back of the food demonstration room, arms crossed over her chest. “The scars may be a dead giveaway from at least having something to do with the great wild, but tattoos? That would have thrown me off…”

“Oh I know, I honestly didn’t have much time to ponder over that when he first got here…” which was true, wasn’t something you saw everyday, not even from the culture centers in the bigger cities. “But it gives that rough edge, should excite the kids more. They might be slightly disappointed when he actually begins to speak, he is quite soft spoken.”

“Interesting…” was all she managed to say before she stepped forward to chime into the demonstration. You and Jaheira switched off though, she fixed herself and wise Elminster a plate for their little lunch, tucking away back in the break room to enjoy their meal as you beckoned the kids to where Halsin waited.

Their excited eyes upon seeing the raccoon brought a dumb smile to your face as your looked to their excited faces as they all sat down, all sitting at their edge of their seat.

Honestly it was all quite interesting, watching Ranger Halsin expertly explain everything, to simple ways to tell the difference between leaves, to why a plant was named whatever it was named. Even to the animal traps, you couldn’t help but almost have the same wide eyed expression as he would set them off and warn them of their dangerous nature and explaining that it was important to always stay away from them an such.

And of course, can’t forget about Philippe who got all the loving he needed for at least a month. By the end of the day he would probably want his own space even from his master’s arms.

Sadly the kids were beckoned off for lunch, giving the last goodbye to Philippe, but their sadness was quickly forgotten by the food that was now being provided to fill those stomachs. That left you carrying a plate to the break room, where Halsin now sat, Philippe away eating his own meal at his feet. The Ranger gladly took the plate, you now sitting across from him.

“I forget how it is, you know, dealing with children, I miss their excitement and hunger for knowledge…” he spoke up, voice almost rumbling in the small break room.

“Must be a different pace from what you are use to” you chimed up, handing him a napkin, which he also accepted.

“Indeed, but I prefer this, adults can be cruel. Their egos get in the way of everything…” a soft frown pulled at his lips, but it was quickly washed away with a bite of food. “They always venture off, get lost, put themselves in danger, never eager to learn. Children on the other hand, they devour everything that is told to them.”

“Plus this place is also charming, believe it or not, I come from an even more rural place than this” he spoke, a sense of nostalgia dripping off his words “nothing but swamps and forest for miles…”

“Then it makes sense why you are in this profession” you said as you began eating.

“Well I started off in wildlife and fisheries, but it became too much. Hunting season is the worst to deal with. Neighbors get mad about who is hunting where. Poachers…god the poachers. But park ranger life is more befitting, I find it better to teach rather than deal with petty wildlife disputes.“ you knew about those disputes all too well, sometimes you would hear about those petty disputes in the local grocery store between old farmers or just the locals gossiping about someone they knew.

“Well it all is a bit different than what we deal with here. Our other ranger Jaheira has more experience with wildlife. I didn’t get much of a chance to, but I learned to find this outlet satisfying.” You admitted as you pushed your plate aside, hands now removing your hat. Halsin followed your move. It was like you could now finally see his face fully, but it was not a disappointment, not at all.

“We do forget that history is also very important, remember, you are the back bone in the preservation of history and that needs just the same amount of importance as wildlife, even if history may have not been so kind to it.” Halsin had such a way with words, voice speaking them so smoothly, he was seeming to hold a much greater wisdom than Elminster, who you could faintly hear drowning on and on about traditions and all stories. You can already picture those school children comforted by food just fighting the sleep that wanted to take over their senses.

“You are definitely right about that..” your head could only picture the old photos of the town you reside in, how those old photos showed a spread out community with so many fields in between. Now it was only pothole filled roads with shady patch jobs, small town lawyers offices, and an occasional fast food joint.

Humanity at its finest.

Something about the way he looked at you, it made you almost bashful. An intense stare, endearing, and comforting all at once. You could feel a wave of multiple sensations travel up your spine in a shiver. All you could do was fiddle with the napkin that sat in front of you, struggling to find the right words to piece together in your mind.

“Are you free? This weekend?” He finally spoke up “I mean tomorrow, I’m sorry if I come off as strong” he finally managed out, honeyed words now seeming to be nervous. “But, I would like to take you to the refuge I work at, I finally got my boat fixed up.” His fingers were now the ones fiddling. Though you can only smile as you nodded your head.

“Yes I would love to” and with that, a number exchange was made and a timid goodbye was bid as he loaded up the last of his things, tailgate making its way down that old town road.

“A date at a refuge huh?” Jaheira’s voice almost startled you from your trance of staring out the door, the culture center now quiet and still, now almsot seeming empty and lonely from the once lively state it was in.

“Oh hush….” You dumbly muttered out as you began to straighten everything up. There was no mistaking that soft hint of pink upon your cheeks.

The nervousness only set in until that morning when you could only stare at yourself in the standing mirror in your room, poking and prodding at the old clothes you decided on. There was no use in wearing something nice if you were going to spend time on a boat. You were cut short from your worrisome glances in the mirror as you heard an engine rumble again from outside your quaint little home, already rushing to the front door to close and lock it.

Halsin was gorgeous, those early morning rays of sun doing him justice as he stepped down from that old pickup truck that was covered in a layer of first, boat already hooked up to the hitch. Handsome in his own clothes, wrinkle, stain, and all. Hell you didn’t even mind the thin layer of mud that caked the heels of his boots. Though quick good mornings were said as he helped you into the passenger seat, soon leaving a trail of dust behind.

It was peaceful, the morning sun shining down through the windows and soft music playing through the radio, the wind from the rolled down windows whipping your hair about and his. The smell of dirt and forestry strong within the interior of the truck, but that was probably due to the fur leaves and crumbs of dirt that peskily made their stay on the floor, embedded into the mats of his truck. It was nice, even when the dirt scented air turned into the consolidating smell of muggy marsh as the refuge finally rolled into view you appreciated it.

Soon your hair was whipping with the winds that blew by once upon the boat, the hum of the motor steadily humming, the soft solaces of the waters rolling by refreshing on your face and exposed arms. You couldn’t help but reach out and run your fingers upon the wild rice that made their homestead on the steep banks that rolled by. The boat came to steady stop , Halsin leant back next to the motor, glancing down to the murky waters below.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here…” you spoke out softly as you also looked to the waters below, watching the adolescent fish ripple the surface in their young curiosity, but would quickly dive down deep into those waters if a shadow would move too quickly. “I use to come all the time when I was younger.” You finally looked up and over to Halsin, who was now looking to you with that soft smile.

“Same here, it’s what pushed me in this direction in life.” His own words were also soft, as if not to disturbed the surroundings around you. “Growing up I would wake at the crack of dawn to walk along the waters, to drag my little row boat out. The rangers would always call my parents to let them know where I was, they always took me in to respite myself in their little station, showing me the things they found. Their passion ignited a life changing revelation for me.”

“Agreed, but once again, it lead me down a completely different route, but now that I think about it, I may have been life telling me I was needed else where. A gentle nudge showing me that I’m probably not cut out with dealing with lost folks along riverbeds and trails.” You joked, Halsin’s laughter joining your own.

“Like I said, it’s definitely not fun.” He added with a grin, now moving from his spot next to the motor to be closer to you, hefty body shaking the boat gently, disturbing the waters that had finally calmed down from your arrival. His hand was rummaging in the beat up ice chest that now was situated next to him, handing you a chilled canteen of water “But, it was a better fit, being a wildlife officer made me forget about the simplicity of nature, the calmness of it.”

The calmness of nature, but you couldn’t decide if it was nature itself that was the calm one, or Halsin’s gentle touch to the land doing the calming for it.

The day was spent laughing and sharing stories of nostalgia, of work, of life. You found the muscles in your cheeks hurting from the permanent smile upon your face as the two of you listened to each other intently with care. It was almost a shame when he rolled you back up to your house, that morning glow now replaced with the setting sun, everyone basked in a dark orange hue, but you didn’t mind, that color gave you a since of fulfillment as you took his calloused hand in yours as he helped you down back to solid land.

“Thank you for joining me, I really enjoyed your company” he softly spoke out, that intense stare now locked onto your own, but this time it was bashful, but that shiver of emotions traveled up your spine nonetheless.

The same could be said for him as that calloused hand still gingerly held onto yours.

“I did as well…” you felt dumb as that’s all you could say, that stare almost halting your thoughts, sending your mind into blankness, that hand of his sending a burning sensation through your fingers.

“If you don’t mind maybe we could….do this again?” He spoke out hopefully, those eyebrows furrowed together to match that hopefulness that dropped from his words.

“I would love to, maybe you can even visit here…?”

“Yes, I would love that….”

#halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x you #halsin x tav #modern #modern au #modern age #baldurs gate tav #baldur’s gate 3 #Baldur’s gate #druid halsin #Druid Halsin x reader

106 notes · View notes

dwaekkiforpresident · 9 months

Note

okay hear me out

making gingerbread houses with bang chan (write fluff as reparations for the angst you made me read)

now i have to repent for my sins???? wtf???

anyway making the holidays with chan in general are always magical. the giddy feeling of delight that pours off of him is infectious, his good vibes rolling off in waves.

chan is a firm believer that christmas is for spending time together. he expects no gifts (even if he’s bought you one…. or four) and will get pouty if you lied about buying him a gift. he loves it, he loves anything from you, but he doesn’t see the importance of buying something for him. you ask how it differs from him buying you a gift and you buying him a gift, he stumbles over his words in such a adorable manner that you end up dropping the interrogations.

“what’s that?” chan had come through the front door with a large tupperware in his arms. he made his way over to where you were standing in the kitchen and handed you the container with a large smile. you suppose this is how he wanted to answer your question.

you pop open the lid to see what looks like homemade gingerbread and a decent sized bag of white icing. “felix asked me if we’d want some gingerbread if he made some,” he says watching you realize why the cookies are cut in large squares and rectangles. “and i said yes. i always made gingerbread houses with my family as a kid and i wanted to do it with you too… if that’s okay.”

saying no to him??? is he crazy??? his shy expression as he asks for the sweetest way to spend some holiday time together is enough for you to lean in and kiss his cheek, balancing the container on one hand while the other rests on his cheek. “of course i want to, baby.”

fast forward past a quick convenience store run for candies and some banter over the music that should be playing while you two construct a tiny home for cookie people, then you have a very wobbly foundation for your gingerbread house. chan insists on piping the frosting to keep the house together, brow furrowed in concentration and his eyes lighting up when the pieces stay together. he turns to look at you while you give him an impressed nod. he does a little celebratory dance and relinquishes the creative details to you.

chan can’t sit still, from watching you work with his elbow propped on the counter or hugging you from behind, it’s like he’s a kid on christmas eve.

because it is christmas eve. and your boyfriend is a big kid when it comes to you.

as you put the finishing touches of gumdrops and rainbow gumballs on the house, you take a dramatic step back like a chef on food network, smiling proudly.

chan would play along, walking around the counter to get a full 360° look at it while wearing his best serious face. once he gets back to you, he crosses his arms and nods silently.

“it looks awful.” he says while breaking into a small fit of laughter, your jaw dropping and a laugh of disbelief leaving your throat.

“you’re an ass!” you groan, lightly smacking his arm that causes him to laugh harder and fake that your hit hurt him. after a moment he stands back upright and catches his break, pulling you into a hug. you stubbornly keep your arms down although you’re not even mad; it really did look bad. smudged icing everywhere, a mess of rainbow candies and dents from where certain pieces had fallen off. it was fun regardless.

“that just means that we’ll have to hire an interior decorator when we move in together. that’s all.” chan says nonchalantly with a slick smirk on his face that you don’t have to see to know is there. you shake your head and finally hug him back.

every christmas with chan somehow tops the last.

#the only christmas related stuff i’ll write LMAO #apparently i’ve gained some haters #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #skz fanfic #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan fic #chan #chris bang 😋#dwaekkiforpresi. asks :)

79 notes · View notes

all-the-things-2020 · 10 months

Text

Summary: When you land on a backwater planet for a routine job, your feelings for your bounty hunter boss are revealed, thanks to a local holiday tradition.

Rating: PG-13 (implied sexual activity but everything happens off screen)

Notes: This was written in 2020, before we knew Grogu’s name. I wrote it for the Pedros12DaysofChristmas gift exchange on tumblr as a gift for @djarinslover.

Word count: 3600+

Tags: @morallyinept Jett, please add to your Festive Fic Rec List 🎄❄️🎁

The wind whipped across the plain that lay outside the little town. You huddled into your coat, which was not thick enough for this weather. Din’s cape plastered itself to his back and the Child he carried whined at the cold. “It’s not far,” Din said. “I’ll keep you warm, kid.” The green child snuggled closer and made an inquiring noise. “And we’ll get something to eat. I promise.” The Child cooed and snuggled closer, his tiny clawed hand clutching at the smooth beskar of Din’s breastplate. You marveled at how well the two communicated, considering the Child couldn’t talk yet. Of course, you and Din were often able to communicate without words, even though his face was always hidden by his helmet.

The ramp rumbled closed behind you as the three of you made your way to the gate of the town. It was another nondescript settlement on a nondescript planet; somewhere that should have been a safe hiding place for a being on the run, but Din was a relentless hunter and very rarely failed to find his quarry. You were surprised that he hadn’t simply left you and the Child on board while he checked out this new lead, but you had learned not to question him when it came to bounty hunting. That was his area of expertise, not yours.

There was a gateway of sorts over the road into town, and it was bedecked with boughs of some evergreen plant that smelled spicy and stringent. Bunches of red and white berries were tied here and there with bright yellow ribbons.

You stepped a bit closer to Din as you entered the town. The houses looked empty, although some had colorful lights hanging in the windows, and most of them had boughs hanging over the door frame. “Where is everyone?” you asked, disconcerted by the lack of people and the empty echoes of your feet against the walls.

Din shifted the Child in his arms and grunted. “Must be in the center of town for the festival,” he said briefly.

“Festival?”

He nodded, but kept walking. “It’s the Midyear Festival. Winter solstice or something like that. I thought the kid might enjoy seeing it.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small pouch of credits, which he handed to you. “There’s sure to be some food for sale. Maybe you can find him a toy or something, keep him from stealing the knob off my gearshift all the time.”

You hid your smile, knowing that Din would just get brusque and dismissive if he saw it. You took the pouch and slipped it into the inside pocket of your coat. “And it gives you a good excuse to be here, too,” you said. “Bringing the kid to see the festival. Who’d be suspicious of that?”

Din turned his helmeted head slightly and you just knew he was rolling his eyes at you; the man could convey a full range of emotions with just a tilt of the head or shift in body weight. You’d learned to read him well during your time aboard the Razor Crest. You just wondered what it would take to get him to express the emotions you were almost certain were lurking just underneath the surface of what he’d allow himself to feel.

The town square was packed with beings of all kinds, eating and drinking and shopping at the booths that had sprung up around the perimeter. They were all decked out with the same evergreen boughs and berries. Din handed the Child to you. “Here, find him something to eat and look around at the wares,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. It shouldn’t take me long to get the information I need and then we can move on.”

You held the Child close as the two of you watched Din walk away, his cape swaying behind him as he strode across the square. He didn’t have to weave his way through the crowd; they parted in front of him. You felt a swell of … not exactly pride, since it was mixed with a healthy dose of lust ...Din looked good as always, and you had to remind yourself that so far he’d treated you as no more than a crewmate.

“Come on, kiddo,” you said once Din had been swallowed up by the crowd. “Let’s get you something yummy to eat.”

The Child made it clear that he wanted one of the large, sugar dusted cookies that several children were carrying around, and you quickly found the booth that was selling them. You purchased two and found a place to sit down. You and the Child nibbled at your treats, watching everyone in their festival finery. “They sure are dressed up, aren’t they?” you said. The Child continued to munch on his cookie, but he pricked his ears up, so you knew he was listening. “Think we’ll ever have money to waste on fancy clothes like that? Yeah, probably not. Your dad’s pretty tight with the purse strings. And fuel and ship repairs are expensive.” You sighed. Life was better now that you were traveling with the Mandalorian and his strange little foundling, but it was never easy in this part of the galaxy.

Once the cookies were gone (and part of yours might have mysteriously found its way into the kid’s hands), you picked the Child up and wandered around the square, looking at the sights. At one booth, you found an assortment of wooden toys which you found charming but which barely got a glance from the Child. What he did like were the shiny ornaments that hung from a large bough in the next booth over.

“Those look awfully fragile, kiddo,” you said doubtfully.

“But you would be wrong,” said the young woman behind the counter at the booth. “They are made of durasteel, hand painted and beautiful, but guaranteed to withstand the wildest gaggle of children and/or beasts.” She took down the one that had caught the Child’s eye, a silvery globe just big enough for both of his little hands to grasp, painted all over with geometric shapes in a brilliant azure blue. As the Child reached desperately for it, you knew you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t get it for him.

“How much?” you asked, sure it was going to be outrageously priced and Din would be mad at you for spending so much on a useless bauble.

“Five credits,” the woman said. She tilted her head, taking in your patched trousers and the raggedy hem on the Child’s robe. “Let’s say four. Can’t let a kid go without a Midyear present, can we?”

You would have gladly paid five, but bit your tongue. A credit saved was a credit earned, after all. You handed over the money and the Child cooed as he examined the beautiful ball in his hands.

“And what about for you?” the young woman asked. “Do you have your sprig of laramin yet?”

“My sprig of what?” you asked.

She nodded. “Figured you for an offworlder,” she said, reaching up to pull a bundle of blue and white leaves down from a rack at the back of the stall. “Laramin,” she said, holding it out to you. “Almost sold out, so you’re just in time.” She held it up above her head. “It’s a tradition. At midnight on Midyear Day, you try to get your sweetheart under the laramin. Legend has it, if you kiss them under the laramin leaves at midnight, they’ll love you forever.” She gave you an appraising look. “I saw you come into the square with that tall fellow in the shiny armor. I’ll bet you’d like to get him under the laramin.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, but still asked the price of the bundle of leaves. One credit, and she threw in some silver ribbon to hang it from. “Little guy might want to play with it, after. Since it matches his ornament and all,” she said. You thanked her and tucked the sprig of laramin in your pocket next to the credit pouch.

You took another turn around the square, but the Child only had eyes for his ball, and soon you settled back down on a bench to wait for Din. You’d bought a couple more of those cookies, but hidden them away from the Child. You wanted to save at least one for Din, although who knew when he’d have a chance to eat it. He always snatched a bite here or there when you and the kid were asleep or busy.

Finally, you saw his shiny helmet weaving its way through the crowd, swiveling back and forth as he scanned the crowd for you. You suppressed the urge to stand up and wave; Din was a skilled hunter and he’d find you and the Child easily enough. Besides, you didn’t want to seem desperate or anything. You thought guiltily of the sprig of leaves in your pocket and your face got hot. It was ridiculous and a waste of money, but at least you’d saved the credit you spent on it when the vendor cut the price on the Child’s bauble.

Din reached you. “Come on,” he said, motioning for you to stand. He picked up the Child, who held out his new treasure for inspection. “Hmm … very nice, buddy. You do like shiny things, don’t you?” The Child chirped his agreement and returned to admiring the blue and silver ornament. Din turned to you. “Did you get yourself anything?”

You were flustered. “Um, I bought the kid and me each a cookie earlier, and I got a few more to take with us. So you can have one later. They’re pretty good.” You were rambling, but you didn’t want to admit you’d bought the laramin sprig. You’d toss it in the trash compactor when you got back to the ship.

Din simply nodded and began to walk. “We can stay overnight and head after the quarry in the morning,” he said as you followed him through the crowd. “I don’t think he’ll be on the move for a while, according to the intel I got.”

The ship was quiet and cold when you arrived, but that was normal. It just seemed darker than usual because you’d come from the brightly lit festival. Din closed up the ramp and busied himself with a check of his arsenal. “Keep an eye on the kid,” he said. “He’ll probably be busy with his new toy, but still, I don’t want him getting near the weapons.”

You nodded and took the Child into the tiny bunk where he and Din slept. The Child had a hammock strung from the ceiling; the sleeping area took up the entire bottom of the bunk, which you secretly thought looked more like a storage closet than a bedroom, but it wasn’t your ship. Your own sleeping area was a pile of blankets on top of a foam pad tucked behind some crates between the main hold and the carbonite freezer. It wasn’t fancy, but at least you had more room than Din and the kid had.

You sat with your back to the bunk entrance, with the Child in front of you, so he was blocked from getting out. The little womp rat was stealthy and you’d learned that unless you could see him at all times, he was capable of slipping past you and getting into trouble. Right now, though, he was enthralled with his new shiny toy and happy to sit and burble at it. You slid the packet of cookies out of your pocket, worried they would get crushed. The Child perked up at the sight of them, but you said, “Not right now. Wait until your dad’s done, then we’ll all have one, okay?” His ears drooped a bit, but he returned to the toy with only a tiny sigh.

You also pulled out the credit pouch. You would return it to Din when you gave him his cookie. The sprig of laramin came with it, the silver ribbon tangled around the pouch.

“What’s that?”

Din was almost as sneaky as his little green kid. “Oh, just a decoration,” you said, hiding your face by looking down at the Child. “The girl who sold us the ornament insisted I take one. No charge.” You dropped the laramin on the bed and held out the pouch. “Here’s what’s left of your credits.”

Din held out his gloved hand and took the pouch gently. He didn’t open it, or even test its weight, even though you knew he was always careful with his money. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly.

“What?”

“I told you when you came aboard, I don’t tolerate lying,” he said, tucking the credit pouch back into a pocket. “I know what that is.” He pointed at the bedraggled bunch of laramin leaves. “It’s some sort of love charm or something, isn’t it?”

You took a deep breath before you spoke. “It’s a decoration,” you repeated. “You hang it up and if you can kiss your sweetheart under it at midnight on Midyear Day, then the legend says they’ll love you forever. It’s silly. I just took it because the girl insisted. We can throw it away.”

You reached for the leaves, ready to crumble them into a wad, but Din was faster. He picked up the bundle and dangled it over your head by the silver ribbon. “No, let’s hang it up,” he said. “We could use some decoration in this old bucket.” You turned around in the bunk, wondering what he was going to do.

He reached up and tied the ribbon over an exposed girder. “There,” he said. “Festive, don’t you think?” Then he turned abruptly and headed up the ladder to the cockpit.

“What was that all about?” you asked the Child, who had crept up beside you. He stared at you for a moment, then shrugged and went back to admiring his ball.

You could hear Din moving around up in the cockpit but he wasn’t planning to move the ship until morning. Had he gotten embarrassed by the laramin? Was he trying to pretend nothing had happened to spare your feelings? You’d tried your best to hide your attraction to him, but the man was a hunter; he noticed details. He was probably well aware of the way you watched him, the way your eyes lingered over certain parts of his anatomy as he moved. And you were sure he knew how you tensed up when he moved close to you, how hard you resisted leaning into his touch when he laid a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at the wilted sprig of laramin, just hanging there mocking you.

It was getting late, so you arranged your bed, which usually got messed up during the day, either from the movements of the ship as it flew, or the feet of the Child, who pattered around the hold when he got restless. The kid slowly followed you, his eyes starting to droop. When he yawned, you scooped him up and tucked him into his hammock. “Your dad will be down pretty soon,” you told him, even though you didn’t know what the hell Din was doing up there.

With the kid in bed, and Din busy, you pulled off your boots and got ready to crawl into your nest of blankets. You had just untied the string that held your hair back out of your face when you heard Din’s boots on the ladder. You looked up. He glanced briefly at you and then ducked into the bunk. Oh, well.

“Here,” Din said, suddenly looming over you. He was holding out a scrap of old blanket.

“What?” You took the piece of fabric, wondering what was going on.

“Put it on,” he said curtly, making a circling motion around his head. “Cover your eyes.”

“Um, okay,” you said, twisting the fabric and wrapping it around your face. You tied it behind your head. It was an effective blindfold; you couldn’t see a thing through it’s tight weave.

“Good,” Din said. He reached out and took your hand. “Stand up.” When you did, he moved his hand to your shoulder. “Over here.”

You shuffled after him in your stocking feet. The floor of the hold was cold and hard through your socks. Din carefully adjusted your position and then stood quietly. “What’s going on?” you asked, but he shushed you.

“Almost time,” he said. When the alarm on his chronometer beeped, you heard him take a deep breath, followed by the click and slight hiss of his helmet being detached. You held your breath. Was he … was he really …

A gloved hand stroked your cheek and slid behind your head, holding it steady. “I’m not sure how to do this,” Din said quietly. His voice wasn’t distorted by the vo-coder in the helmet and you heard a nervous quaver in it. “I’ve … I’ve never done this before,” he whispered.

Your heart was pounding. It was happening. “That’s okay,” you said softly. “Just do what feels right.” You lifted your hand to touch his face, the face you’d imagined so many times. You gently traced the curve of his cheek, the sharp ridge of his nose, the soft pillows of his lips. You felt his breath hitch as you slid your fingers back and forth against his lips. Then he brushed your hand out of the way and pressed those lips against yours.

It was everything you had imagined, and more. His lips were soft and clumsy as he kissed you, his fingers tightening in your hair as he held your head in place. You lifted your other hand to the back of his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, giving a gentle tug as he pulled back from the kiss. “How was that?” he asked breathlessly.

“Not bad,” you said. “But you definitely need practice.” You pulled him closer and kissed him harder, sliding your tongue along the seam between his lips, until he parted them and you were able to deepen the kiss. When your tongue darted into his mouth, he gasped and his free arm wrapped around your waist. You responded by pressing your body against his armored chest, wishing he’d shed more than his helmet.

After a few minutes, you came up for air. “Happy Midyear,” Din said, his voice raspy.

You laughed and pressed your head against his shoulder pauldron. “Was that my present?” you teased.

“The first of many, I hope,” Din said hesitantly. “I … I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way about me, but when I saw the laramin sprig, I thought, what the hell.” His arms tightened around you and pulled you closer to him, squishing you against his armored body.

“Is the kid asleep?” you asked.

“I think so,” he replied. “I closed the door to the bunk.”

You chuckled. “Good idea. He doesn’t need to see this.” You pulled Din’s head down for another kiss, and started backing toward where you thought your bed was. Din steered you by the shoulders until you felt the edge of your foam pad under your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said. “I’ve been dying to find out what’s under all that beskar.” He laughed and kissed you again.

**************************************

When you woke the next morning, you were alone. Your blindfold was gone. Your clothes were folded neatly on a crate next to your bed. You could hear Din talking softly to the Child in the cockpit.

You got up carefully, stiff and sore in places that hadn’t seen much activity recently. You got dressed and made your way to the ‘fresher. After you’d splashed a little water on your face, you climbed the ladder to the cockpit.

“Good morning,” Din said quietly. He was in the pilot’s seat, the Child perched on his lap, watching as he entered coordinates and ran through the pre-launch sequence. The new durasteel ball was clutched in the Child’s hand and the knob had been returned to the lever where it belonged.

“Good morning,” you replied. Din waved you closer and as you came alongside the chair, he slid his hand to the small of your back. You leaned down to greet the Child, who babbled to you about something.

Din sat back in the pilot’s seat. He gently placed the Child on the floor. “Get in your chair and buckle in,” he told the small creature. As the kid toddled toward his seat, Din tilted his helmet up to look at you. His hand returned to your waist. “Last night …,” he began.

You cut him off. “It’s okay if it was just the holiday,” you said. “It’s okay if it never happens again.”

He shook his head. “No, it … it wasn’t just the holiday. I’d like it to happen again. It’s just … I can’t let you see my face. It will have to be like that.” His hand slid gently up and down against your back.

You leaned over him and pressed a kiss against the cold beskar of his helmet. “It’s fine,” you said. “I know how important The Way is to you. I would never ask you to abandon it.”

Din was silent for a long moment, then nodded his head. He pulled away from you. “Okay, then. You’d better get buckled in. We’re taking off in two minutes.”

You took your seat next to the Child. Din finished the last few checks and pressed a button to ignite the engines. As the ship began to lift off the surface, you noticed something dangling above the control panel, jiggling with the vibrations of the ship. A bedraggled sprig of blue and white leaves, tied tightly with a silver ribbon.

#the mandalorian #star wars #grogu #baby yoda #fanfic #din djarin #holiday themed #friends to lovers #din djarin x reader #din Djarin fluff #tooth rotting fluff #festive fic rec list

72 notes · View notes