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hornychristianprincess · 28 days

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NSFW A-Z: WONBIN

a/n: this is just my personal analysis based off my perception and observations of wonbin's personality. all of this is fiction/fantasy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Immediately after sex, Wonbin wants to be close to you, no matter how sweaty or gross the two of you are. While recovering in bed with you, he’ll be filled with a sort of cocky smugness as he reflects on just how good the sex was. His confidence will be boosted, causing him to be more talkative than usual and say whatever’s been on his mind. Once you’ve both recuperated, he’ll more often than not want to go for another round.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Wonbin takes a lot of pride in his abs/torso. As a dancer and performer, he works hard to achieve and maintain his physique. I can imagine him having a lot of shirtless pics on his phone.

On his partner, Wonbin is a boob man all day, every day. Regardless of his partner’s size, there’s just something about the softness of them that is comforting to him. Even just feeling them through your shirt during a hug is enough to rile him up.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think Wonbin is a little finicky when it comes to any sort of mess so I’d say he prefers to come inside of his partner or in a condom. When he’s finished, there’s ease in being able to either throw the condom away or take a shower with you so you can wash up together.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

We all know Wonbin works really hard to maintain this mysterious, cold image, but with a partner who he feels comfortable with, Wonbin is the biggest softie. When he finds someone he loves – a feat on it’s own since he is such an introvert – they become his entire world. He would do anything to please them. He doesn’t want anyone knowing this because of how it would crack this persona he’s crafted for himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Wonbin has been handsome his whole life so I would guess he had no shortage of suitors. However, I don’t see him as the type to just go around slinging dick to everybody. It takes a lot for him to take interest in someone and even longer before he’s comfortable initiating sex. Still, I’d venture to say he has some experience under his belt.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Wonbin is a fan of any position where he can comfortably look into your eyes, so usually missionary or cowgirl is what he goes for. Being able to see your expressions as he pleases you is integral to Wonbin’s own pleasure. He likes to maintain intense, searing eye contact with whoever he’s fucking, and these two positions are what most easily allow for that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In the lead-up to sex, Wonbin uses jokes to mask how nervous or excited he is. He hopes that by being playful he’ll come off as cool. Once the sex actually begins though, he is deadly serious and intense. He becomes too focused on either giving or receiving pleasure to find anything funny. It’s similar to how he is when he performs on stage; Wonbin on stage and Wonbin off stage are two different people. Off stage, he can be personable and charming, but once he gets into performance mode, he takes what he’s doing so seriously that he can’t consider anything else.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Wonbin only bothers to groom himself when he has a partner, otherwise he can’t be bothered. In the beginnings of a relationship, he appreciates it when his partner puts in the effort to shave. But once you’ve been together for a while and built that camaraderie, he couldn’t care less.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Wonbin enjoys receiving intimacy but not giving intimacy if that makes sense. Like he is fully comfortable with saying romantic things to you and watching as it makes you get worked up and emotional. But the moment when you do the same and he starts to get overwhelmed with emotion, he’ll be quick to hide his face in your neck or bite your shoulder to hold back his whines. As I’ve already alluded to, he shies away from anything that would put a crack in his mysterious persona. In other words, emotional vulnerability is difficult for him but he’s more than happy to hold space for and even provoke your own expressions of emotional intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Wonbin masturbates rarely and mostly as a means to either let off stress or cure boredom. I see him masturbating the most in the shower after a long day of work, allowing his worries to release down the drain. In many ways, I see him as someone who only appreciates masturbation for its basic utility rather than for the pleasure it brings. To him, sex is a pleasure best enjoyed with a partner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation (giving and receiving): Wonbin is turned on by the idea of fucking until you both literally can’t anymore. To do that requires draining each other’s bodies for all of the energy they have. This man likes to go for rounds. And he won’t want to stop until you both can’t move.

marking (giving and receiving): seeing marks on each other’s skin after sex is a pride point for Wonbin. It’s evidence of just how good the sex was. when receiving, Wonbin likes scratches on his back or even a bloody lip after a passionate kiss. When giving, Wonbin likes seeing the fleeting mark of his handprint on your ass after he smacks it, and more longlasting, hickies on every part of your body.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wonbin doesn’t have any location preference. He is honestly down to fuck you any time, any place. Still, he’s aware that his partner would likely feel most comfortable to let loose in the privacy of a bedroom, so he’s fine with that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Before sex even comes to mind for him, he is turned on by a person who is a little hard to get. Because he is so used to the attention of potential suitors. It’s easier to get his attention by not trying to pursue him at all, at least initially. Additionally, he is attracted to unique people with lots of confidence in themselves and their interests.

What motivates him sexually is feeling a strong level of trust with his partner. What also motivates him is his desire to please. I think Wonbin sometimes has thoughts of not being enough for a person. He sees sex as being the thing that could make someone stay if they feel like he’s lacking in other places. When he fucks, he makes the pleasure of his partner his biggest priority. He is turned on by their reactions and praise. In many ways, he sees praise of his sexual abilities as an affirmation of his personhood. Sex is one of his ways of expressing his love. Whenever he feels a strong surge of love for you romantically, it will immediately translate to him wanting to fuck you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s turned off by someone who makes him feel even slightly judged for who he is as a person. I mentioned earlier that he likes people who play hard to get, but once you get past those initial meetings that define the beginning of the relationship, he has little tolerance for indifference. He wants his partner to be just as into him as he is into them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Wonbin loves both giving and receiving head. As mentioned in my last answer, Wonbin is a huge giver. What turns him on about giving head is seeing his partner’s satisfied expressions and knowing that he possesses the power to make them feel euphoric in this way. And being the man he is, he loves to receive head. He finds you sexiest when you’re salivating over his dick, begging to have it in your mouth even after you’ve already made him come so many times this way before.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

By and large, I think his pace is dependent on whatever his partner asks of him at that moment or whatever he thinks is gonna feel the best for you. Usually he’ll start out slow just to get a feel for the rhythm of things, but he’ll have his moments where the sex starts to feel so good that he’ll get overwhelmed and start rutting into you roughly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t Wonbin’s favorite way to fuck, but he’s also not at all opposed to them. It’s not something that happens often, especially because he likes to carve out substantial time with you so that he’s not having to rush intimacy. Still, in moments where you only have a few moments to yourselves, he’d rather have you for a short time than not at all.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

There is nothing inherently satisfying about taking risks for Wonbin. Rather, he can become so turned on by his partner that his desire outweighs any fear. If you and Wonbin are in public and he finds himself enthralled by you in some way, he has no problem with pulling you aside and having his way with you, or even playing with you under the table during a public dinner. The risk of getting caught is irrelevant if not meaningless to him. Were he ever to get caught, he would be quick to shut down any teasing or outside conversation. He prefers to keep the private life of himself and his partner out of the conversations of others.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again – rounds rounds rounds rounds. In each round, Wonbin’s first priority is to make you come, and with that in mind, he is able to hold back on his own orgasm for however long he needs to. After each round, he does need some time to recuperate, but once he’s good, he’ll be ready and needy for more. On a perfect day with Wonbin you’ll fuck, watch a movie, get bored and fuck again, get some food, fuck, and just keep going in that pattern until you collapse in bed tiredly by the end of the day. Once he’s done though, he’s done.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Wonbin is open to both using toys and having toys used on him. While he’s fucking you, I could see him reaching over to a bedside drawer, grabbing a vibrator and using it to stimulate your clit while he gives you long, deep thrusts. Conversely, if you were to incorporate a vibrator or cock ring while giving him head, he might just cry like a baby. All in all, anything that can be used to enhance both of your pleasures’ is a win for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Wonbin is only a tease outside of the bedroom. Inside it, he gets right to the point and doesn’t have the patience to delay anything by teasing you. His focus is on making the both of you feel good. To him, pleasure is a feeling best enjoyed when instantaneous rather than to be delayed by pointless lollygagging.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Wonbin only allows groans and grunts to come out when he feels like they sound dignified and gruff. The moment a whine threatens to come out, he’s quick to bite your shoulder to hold it back. If a means of hiding his whines isn’t immediately accessible, he’ll just look and sound really pained as he fights to hold back what he’s feeling. He always wants to appear composed and in control of his reactions.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

“I love you,” he’d say, a breezy tiredness to his voice as he fucked you for what felt like the tenth time that night. “So, so much.”

These were the sort of inclinations Wonbin would get every time he was inside you. The soft, sentimental part of him is something you only got to see, something you managed to bring out of him so easily with the pleasure of your sex. The closer he got to coming, the rougher and more restless he come feel himself being. He pinned your wrists against the bed, eyes never leaving yours as his thrusts increased in impact.

“You’re mine forever, Y/N. No one can fuck you as good as I do. You belong to me,” he’d growl, each thrust punctuated by a kiss from his signature star shaped necklace, hanging from his neck and dragging up your face. You were close, and he could tell, the feeling of you clenching around him plus the telltale shutting of your eyes giving it away. Longing to be close to you in these moments, his face collapses onto yours as he initiates a languid, messy kiss.

“Come for me. Wet me,” he’d pull away to command. “Wanna feel you drip down my cock, pretty girl.” Those were the last words you were able to register before you were launched into the most powerful orgasm of your life, Wonbin following after you with a poorly suppressed whine only shortly after.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I don’t have any strong inclinations either way. I just know that whatever he lacks in the sack he more than makes up for in other areas. Whatever his size is, it gives him no reason to not feel confident in his sexual abilities.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I’d say his sex drive is pretty average. Sex with him is pretty physically demanding so it often happens that you fuck 1-3 times a week with a day or two between each time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he’s gotten all the rounds out of his system, his energy is completely depleted. He’ll sleep like a baby.

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paradiseprincesss · 1 month

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Ooo I have been loving ALL your fics and your robert fischer one gave me an idea… the reader is a call girl who grew up poor, he hires us and after a while slowly falls in love with her and feels guilty and happy ending for both of my sad babies🥹

pov - robert fischer x reader

hi anon! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but i love this - robert fischer will always be a soft character in my mind, i feel like he's just...like that. i just feel like he's a sad and lonely guy with the sweetest heart - i need a robert fischer in my life fr.

summary: as a call girl, your life was chaotic. ever since you were a little girl you had struggled with both self acceptance and self love, but you suddenly meet a client who changes your perspective of everything you thought you knew.

word count: 4,444 exactly lol

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, kissing, swearing, mentions of toxic household, daddy issues, mentions of escorting/prostitution lol

…to be loved is to be changed.

you never know when you'll meet the one that changes everything - fate is funny that way. you don't know when they'll show up in your life, maybe you already know them, maybe you don't.

"god, you have no idea what it's like for me! i was struggling to pay my tuition. i'm doing what i have to do to get by, mom!" you scream, tears streaming down your face.

"then go get a job," she yelled back at you, "being some old mans escort is not a real job!"

"i'm- jesus, i'm a call girl it's- it's just different, okay? and it pays well. i can't continue to pay for college if i don't do this. you know a regular job doesn't pay shit." you say, your hands trembling as you argued with your mom.

the one figure in your life that was supposed to show you unconditional love wasn't there for you; but you didn't hold any animosity towards her. she was struggling as much as you were. did.

not anymore.

you hated this - fighting and arguing with her. it hurt you deeply. but, you did what you had to do to get by. your father wasn't in the picture, and your mother worked two jobs but that was barely enough to make ends meet.

your whole childhood was tumultuous, you grew up in a home with a single parent, the other one gone without a trace. you didn't know love growing up, and honestly, it fucked up your perception of the world - of the word love.

you put your all into school; it was the only thing that distracted you from your home life, and you were good at it. you managed to get pretty good grades in high school, no less than an A- in any subject you took, and post-graduation, you got into a pretty good college in your area.

you had moved out the day you turned eighteen, eager and excited to go out and blossom in life; but reality hit you, hard.

rent was expensive, and paying for college? god, that was a struggle in itself. you worked the odd job here and there, whether it was a cashier job or waitressing job, but neither paid enough. you did a little online research and came across escorting. the only thing that really enticed you was the paycheque - and my goodness was it a hefty one.

you kept this life of yours a secret - but you told your mom the truth earlier when she came by to visit you. she was surprised to see the apartment you were living in; decked out and lavish. she'd asked you where you had gotten the money to pay for this from, and you told her what you were doing.

turns out your mother wasn't too happy about her daughter being a glorified escort, and after arguing with you, she slammed the door in your face, which left you a sobbing mess.

but at least you had money now, right?

after scoring a position with a lucrative company which you couldn't disclose for...certain reasons, you received your first job. then you booked another, and another, and soon, you were a top money maker there.

with a face like that and the body you had - you were not short on cash, let's just say that. you were getting paid thousands just to make appearances with rich men - and getting paid tens of thousands to sleep with them.

as much as you loved the cash, you were miserable on the inside. money got boring after a while, it was just another part of your unexciting, depressing, melancholy life.

diamonds and designer bags couldn't fix the hole in your heart, they couldn't fix the emptiness that lingered within you.

if there was someone who understood this feeling better than anyone else - it was robert fischer.

sure, he never grew up poor or struggled to have money, but he knew damn well that money couldn't solve all your problems. in fact, having a lot of money came with more problems, he thought.

robert didn't know love - it was unfamiliar to him. none of his ex-girlfriends loved him, they just loved his money. they didn't care about him, they just cared about cashing in.

and every time he broke it off with them, they would tell him "don't leave, i miss you" - but he knew better than that. they didn't miss shit but the money, designer bags, and the lavish lifestyle.

after a particularly agonizing day at work, robert came home to his penthouse; head clouded with stress. honestly, it had been months since he had sex - been forever since he just felt loved or had any form of intimacy.

he craved it real bad.

so, he sighed as he dialled the number on his phone, waiting as the line rung quietly. quickly, someone answered and he put in his request - "i'll give you fifteen grand to send over your best girl," was all he said over the phone, quickly giving his address over afterwards.

and that is the story of how you ended up as robert fischers personal call girl - but that was just the beginning.

when you first met robert, you were pleasantly surprised. usually, your clientele consisted of old, rich men who were (at least in your opinion) disgusting. however, robert on the other hand was handsome, young, kind and rich on top of all that.

he was your best client thus far, and you were his favourite girl - not that he had any other girls, anyway. he paid you way more than any other man did, and he tipped generously on top of that.

soon enough, you were only seeing robert - exclusively. for work reasons of course. and he tried to tell himself that, too. that this was just sex. it didn't mean anything, right?

wrong.

he pushed you down onto the bed gently, running his hands all over your body while his lips caught yours in a deep kiss. today, you were waiting for him in his penthouse wearing a baby pink, lacy babydoll with matching pink panties and some stockings.

robert damn near lost his mind when he saw you in your lingerie, his cock was straining against his pants the second he laid eyes on you - sprawled out on his bed, biting your lip teasingly.

"fuck, i love you in pink." he groaned against your lips - but what he was really trying to tell you was "i love you."

he positioned you so that you were now sat up against the headboard of his bed, propped up against the plush pillows looking like a princess. slowly, he took his hand up to your thigh, blue eyes still locked with yours, and teasingly started to take your stockings off. he did it excruciatingly slow with the other one, too.

once your stockings were off, he looked at you with admiration. he truly thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. ethereal. "can i?" he asked softly, his hands now trailing down your inner thighs, dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"m-mhm." you hum with a small nod, trying not to lose your mind. keeping your composure around him was proving to become more and more difficult every time.

he hooked his finger into the waistband of the tiny, lacy, pink thong and pulled it down your legs, groaning softly at the sight of your cunt all soaked for him.

"you're soaked. i can see it." he said lowly, and it takes every fucking ounce of self restraint you have in your body not to moan at the way he says it.

"y-yeah. s'cause of you, robbie." you say softly as he spreads your legs open, his mouth watering at the sight. he peppered kisses onto the insides of your thighs, teasingly kissing everywhere except where you so desperately needed him to kiss you.

"please." you whisper, and that was all he needed to hear before he was lapping up your pretty pussy. he licked a stripe up your cunt and you let out a desperate moan at the feeling of his mouth on you.

he continued to eat you out as if it was the last thing he'd ever do, making your head spin. you were moaning his name over and over, begging him to let you cum on his face as he sucked on your clit.

he took one of his fingers and slowly started to pump it in and out of your soaking hole. "oh fuck, i-i need you inside of me." you pleaded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to release.

"only if you cum on my tongue, baby." he says between your legs, and you started to gasp and moan as you felt your orgasm approach you at full speed.

"i'm- gonna cum!" you desperately cry, feeling yourself cream all over his face as he took every last drop of it.

he sat up wiping his mouth and chin, glistening with your slick, and smiled at you dopily - he was in heaven.

“lay back on the bed for me, princess.” he commanded softly, and you oblige immediately. as you find comfort within the huge, king-sized bed and soft pillows, he unbuttoned his white dress shirt and undid his tie, taking it off while you watched like a predator stalking its prey.

next came his slacks, which he was rushing to get out of. as his cock sprung free from his boxers, your body felt like it was going into overdrive. robert got between your legs and took hold of your hips before lining his cock up with your drooling entrance.

slowly, he pushed in and the both of you let out sinful sounds. sex never had any meaning for you - it was just your profession, you didn’t know any different. but when he was inside you, when you let him into you - things felt...different.

robert was in way too deep to get out now (both figuratively and literally), and he slowly started to thrust himself in and out of you at a slow pace. one thing you noticed about robert, especially when you guys were fucking, was that he never broke eye contact.

nobody had ever fucked you so sensually before, let alone with such care. he fucked into you gently, the both of you moaning and breathing heavily, and he got lost in your pretty eyes.

he loved you - and he knew it was wrong.

it was the one thing you shouldn’t do when hiring a call girl - fall in love with her. he knew he shouldn’t fall in love with a woman who’s literal job was to pretend that she loved you and fuck you right, but he couldn’t help it.

robert - like you - didn’t know what love was until he felt you. until he knew you.

“f-fuck, faster robbie.” you whispered, breathless and feeling almost out of touch with reality with how good he felt inside you - it was like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight. you- ugh, you feel so good, baby.” robert moaned, and you could almost hear the desperation in his voice. “i’m already about to cum, jesus-“ he stammered, voice strained.

“then cum, ah-.” you urged, wrapping your arms around him in a way that was a little too intimate for it to just be part of your job.

“how much extra do you want, ten grand?” he panted as he fucked your pretty pussy, feeling you tighten up around his hard cock.

“wha- robbie, what?” you try to talk properly through the pleasure he was bringing you; it was overwhelming. you weren’t sure why he was bringing up payments and money now of all times, this had been discussed already at the beginning of…whatever this agreement was.

“how much to make you mine? please - i love you.” he said, losing himself in the feeling of you.

you felt your mouth go dry as the words fell from his lips, and in a panic you struggle from underneath him, trying your hardest to push him away.

“wait- wait, stop-“ you say all flustered and panicked. this wasn’t supposed to happen - this should never happen between you and your clients.

he stops as soon as you say the word, and you backup into the the headboard of the bed anxiously, grabbing the blankets to cover yourself up as soon as he had pulled out.

you had never known love before, so when you heard those words, it sent you into an abysmal spiral.

“i-i’m sorry, i just-“ he stammered, the two of you looking each other awkwardly, and robert felt his heart break in two silently.

“don’t apologize, it’s my fault.” you sigh, looking down.

“no, cmon- i shouldn’t have said that.” he said back, and you glanced at him for a second - he looked like he was hurting. like it physically hurt him to tell hear you turn him down in a sense.

you felt a tear run down your cheek, and you wiped it away, already embarrassed enough. this had never happened in front of a client before.

was robert just a client, though?

before you had a chance to answer your own question, robert answered it for you. he took his hand out, gentle and soft, and wiped the tears away from your cheek.

“what’s going on?” he spoke softly, and you just shook your head, avoiding all eye contact.

“i- please, i’m so embarrassed. i’m sorry. you don’t need to pay me for today.” you whisper.

he shakes his head, and grabs a robe that he had draped over the ottoman in front of his bed, and quickly threw it on. you stayed with the covers pulled up over your chest and the rest of your body, watching him carefully.

he approaches you cautiously, and without another word he pulls you into his embrace - warm and inviting, just like him.

it felt like the missing piece in your chaotic, incomplete puzzle that you called your life.

words failed you in that moment, but it felt foreign. the feeling of being loved, being comforted, being vulnerable was new to you. you didn’t know such feelings could exist - at least, you grew up thinking that anyway.

"i'm really sorry, i shouldn't have said that." he said softly, petting your hair gently. "no, it's- fine. i-i don't know why i reacted like that." you reassured him, not quite knowing the reason behind your erratic behaviour.

"we don't have to continue, okay?" he reassures you in a soothing tone, and you let yourself fall into the feeling of his touch and embrace for a moment too long, before coming to your senses.

"t-thank you," you mumble, "i just don't think i'm in a good head space right now."

"and that's okay." he reassures you once again - he was really good at that. "why don't we just end todays session and i'll see you again next week, same time?"

"yeah, okay. i'm sorry, robbie." you murmur, and robert could feel his heart beating rapidly as you said his name like that - the name you called him.

after that, you had left in a rush (and felt super unprofessional about it), profusely apologizing for what had happened but he kept telling you that it was okay.

once you got back to your place, you ran a hot shower for yourself to collect your thoughts and calm yourself down. after that, you got into bed and fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the day you had.

the next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, and frankly - still super embarrassed from yesterday. cringing at your own actions, you felt like you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never show your face again.

why did you react like that? why did you have to make a scene? why did robert's confession throw you off so badly?

deep down, you knew the answers to these questions.

you reacted like that because you grew up around constant chaos and poverty, you didn't know what it was like to be cared for, to be loved. you made a scene because for someone who's never known love, facing the unknown was terrifying.

but why did robert's confession throw you off? why?

you sat there in bed, wondering. wondering to yourself why he would want you of all people - some call girl he ordered because he was bored. why wasn't he with some other girl who had come from money like him? come from class? why would he chose you?

in that moment, it went right over your head, but his confession threw you off because you didn't feel worthy. you didn't know how to trust - you couldn't see yourself the way robert saw you, after all.

suddenly, you heard your phone buzz beside you. looking a the notification, you found yourself shocked. you had received an e-transfer from robert of double the normal amount he was paying you.

your jaw dropped and you had to re-read the numbers in your account to really make sure this was real. in a state of shock, you look through your contacts and give him a call in the spur of the moment.

"hello?" his slightly raspy morning voice answered, and you felt your heart do a little flip at the sound of it - but you pushed it aside.

"hey, robert, it's me," you say, taking in a breath, "i...you didn't have to pay me, i told you."

he sighed on the other line, "no, i shouldn't have...told you what i did. i'm sorry, i...i've been thinking about it."

you stayed silent, unsure of what to say next, but he continued talking regardless. "can we talk? i'll pay you for your time."

"you don't have to do that, robert. and yes, yeah let's, um, talk." you say to him, and the two of you arrange to meet at his at three.

you get yourself ready, doing your hair in your favourite hair style and your makeup all glamorous, throwing on your favourite saint laurent heels with a matching satin mini dress.

you rush out the door, and hopped into your car, speeding off to his place. usually, he would send a driver out to yours, but you were off the clock. he insisted over the phone, but you urged him that you could drive and it was fine.

as soon as you got to the building of his penthouse, he buzzed you in and you made your way up the elevator. after knocking on the door, he opened it with a small smile on his face. he was wearing the usual - suit and tie, of course.

as he welcomed you in, he told you about the meeting he had at his office earlier that day - hence the whole suit and tie getup.

"anyways, i'm sure i'm boring you with the details about my work meeting." he says, laughing softly and you smile. "not at all, it's refreshing to hear you talk about other parts of your life besides...you know, the usual stuff we talk about."

he smiled back at you, but it seemed he was having trouble getting his words out - he didn't know how to tell you what he wanted to tell you.

"er, please know that, fuck- i just, i didn't mean to scare you away with what i said." he stammered, clearly flustered.

"...what did you mean, robert?" you ask meekly, avoiding eye contact. he slowly steps a little closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

"i have feelings for you." he says, voice strained out of sheer nervousness.

"don't say that," you sigh, "this- us, it isn't real. it's just like, playing pretend."

you so desperately wanted to say, "me too, i fell for you too," but your insecurities stopped you. even though you worked in a profession where you were paid to be pretty, paid to look good as arm candy, you felt inadequate all the time. you didn't feel pretty - you felt indifferent. sometimes, you didn't even know who you were.

there was a lot of baggage that came with you, but it was nothing that would ever scare robert off.

"i know what it's like to 'play pretend,'" he said, emphasizing his words with air quotations, "i've done that for the last ten years of my life - with every woman i've ever dated. they pretended to like me for me and not my money, and i pretended that i didn't see what they were really doing."

"you're literally paying me to sleep with you, robert. this is transactional." you say, trying to convince yourself into thinking that was the truth.

"god- it's not. it's not, you know it, i know it. we both know it." he exasperates, and you look away again as he continues. "i can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you look at me, the way you say my name, i can tell. and i know you can tell by the way i hold you, talk to you - the way i don't want anyone else but you."

as he confessed, you felt your cheeks go pink. you didn't realize that he was this much of a romantic - it was kinda cute. it was obvious that he was so serious about this, but you on the other hand...

you weren't too convinced. you had never received such attention, such care or such...love before.

"why are you lying to yourself?" his voice snapped you out of your anxious thoughts, and you finally found the courage to meet his gaze.

trying your hardest not to get lost in his ocean eyes, you manage to get a response out. "i-i don't know. i guess i just don't understand it. i don't understand how you could like, fall in love with someone who does...what i do."

he sighed softly, tilting your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. "let me help you understand, then."

one second you were trying to deny every lovey-dovey feeling you had for him - and the next his lips were on yours. it just happened so naturally.

in that moment, you could feel every insecurity, every anxious thought, every piece of pent up trauma and trust issues subside with him.

he wrapped his arms around your waist lovingly, holding you in his embrace as he kissed you softly.

you were off the clock, and so was he. neither of you were your personas anymore. you weren't just some call girl anymore (not that he ever saw you as just that), and he wasn't robert fischer of fischer morrow right now - he was just yours.

you were the first to pull away from the kiss, and you looked up at him with a small smile, which he returned.

"you have no idea how much i care about you." he whispered softly, "i wish you could see yourself in the way that i see you."

his words struck a chord for sure, and you felt yourself getting teary eyed again. "jesus, robert - stop making me cry." you laugh softly, trying to hold back the tears.

"i want to know who you are - not the usual work stuff. tell me about your life." he said softly, keeping you close.

and so you did - you did exactly that. that evening, you had spent the whole time getting to really know each other. from childhood memories to what you ate for breakfast that day - no parts left out. he told you about himself too, and finally, you felt safe.

you finally felt like the years of walls you had built up were gradually coming down, and all the baggage you accumulated over the years was slowly fading.

you looked over the terrace of your suite in your lace slip, taking in the beauty of the eiffel tower which you could see from your luxurious hotel room.

"s'pretty, just like you." robert says, wrapping his arms around you from behind, placing a soft kiss behind your ear. "good morning, mrs. fischer."

ah, that's right.

you were mrs. fischer now - newly married and happier than ever. after that fateful night in roberts penthouse, the two of you just clicked. it was fate, no - destiny. it was like something you had never known before, the pull between you two was on a metaphysical level, and for once, you didn't fight the fall.

now, nearly three years later, you were taking in the gorgeous view of paris in the early morning on your honeymoon.

your wedding was beautiful - private and intimate - but beautiful. it was just the way you imagined it would be; everything you dreamed of. robert had proposed to you a week after you graduated from your program in college, and the two of you were happily in love - still happily in love, and always would be happily in love.

you decided to quit your call girl job, as there was no longer a need to work anymore at all. robert covered all of your finances, never once did you ever pick up the bill with him. he supported you in everything that you did, always being there for you and showing up for you when you most needed him.

he never judged you, never belittled you, never made you doubt how much he loved you. it was like he had superpowers with the way he was able to permeate through all the past trauma you had. it didn't matter to him if you were working in the escort business before he came along; he simply didn't care.

your past is in the past for a reason, that wasn't you anymore. you were a different woman now. softer and no longer had her guard up constantly. sometimes, you felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

because he loved you for you. he taught you how to be grateful for yourself, to show up for yourself, to love yourself the way he loved you.

"i love you so much, honey. god, i love everything about you." he said softly, kissing down your neck, making you giggle.

"mm, i'd love to see me from your point of view." you say, taking in the breathtaking view of paris, and your new life.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian fic #cillian x fem!reader #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer x oc #robert fischer fic #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer #robert fischer x female reader

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the-nysh · 1 year

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Rewatching Trigun's 98anime (subs this time, being used to the eng dub) since I was curious to note the characters' shifting pronoun usage.

For reference, Stampede Vash always uses the softer, more humble, modest, boyish 'boku' - as expected (like Trimax Vash), even after his glow up in ep12, he still regards himself the same way. While Knives (Nai) exclusively uses the harder, more assertive, masculine 'ore'...ever since he was a little baby, which immediately differentiates them apart, but is...extremely (lmao) edgy of him.

But in the 98anime? Oh my god, it's all flipped around and completely different! Which quite interestingly reveals a lot of contextual nuances to many characters, and quite frankly rewatching in Japanese trying to catch all these things only thoroughly kicked my ass throwing in so many difficult-to-understand, unexpected curveballs; I'm both shook and humbled by what I've heard!

Because 98 Knives refers to himself as 'boku' O____O;; even during his most 'villainous' lines yelling at Vash too. Him having that casual but 'polite' poised dissonance in his voice comes off extremely unnerving;;; when he speaks of horrible things thru such an 'innocent' self-perception like that. (Even Legato uses 'boku' like him! Same in Stampede.) Damn I'm disturbed. He and Vash notably both used 'boku' when they were kids, but Knives in particular never really stopped saying that from their childhoods, so that says a lot about him. (His "did you just shoot me [boku]!?" comes off very uncannily childlike. No wonder Vash freaked out in guilt.)

But 98 Vash? Whoa, he requires a whole damn essay flips around ALL the time, interchangeably using BOTH! :O Often switching pronouns between 'ore' & 'boku' within the same episode, or even as quickly as every other sentence, even towards the same person. Depending on the immediate context/topic of what he's saying and the emphasis on how he's saying it. Via all his posturing, which 'persona' he switches into, his familiarity/humbleness/honesty/trust--even hostility towards certain people, and his mood's silly vs seriousness levels. Often reflective of how determined/confrontational/casual he is vs being walled off (masking) to openly repentant, lost or distressed too - but not always! It's Extremely inconsistent fascinating but confusing!!! Because there's no....fixed 'rules' to his usage. For ex he'll often use 'ore' casually within his own internal monologues to his more bombastic public self-introductions, or even when he's at his most serious in private moments about grave matters, like settling his past during his scar scene with Meryl. Even Eriks!Vash still uses 'ore' when confessing his guilt to Wolfwood about the Fifth Moon! So there feels to be a general preference for using 'ore' when he (internally and externally, both in casual and serious contexts) needs to show his 'determination' - aka being the man (the ideal 'Vash'?) he wants to become.

But then he'll flip around using 'boku' for some of his most exasperatingly fake ✨playful✨ bits when he's kidding and messing around in mock courtesy (bonus: he even uses 'watashi' as a joke for his ridiculously long 'formal' name introduction to Wolfwood).....AND 'boku' will be used for his most sincere humble (polite) conversations back with family members he knows at Home, and when he connects back to his childhood with Rem in his dreams. The Diablo ep is a good example: he uses 'ore' throughout the ep until he reverts to 'boku' after speaking to Rem deciding not to kill, and that humbling shift, like to that of a lost younger boy, makes so much sense. The shift happens again when Eriks!Vash thinks about Rem feeling just as lost: "what should I [boku] do?" And after the tragic incident at Home when he's depressed and masking himself behind his glasses, while quietly reflecting to Wolfwood with a reproachful, "Everyone who touches me [boku] dies." ...Before immediately changing back to 'ore' in the next sentence firming his resolve to face Knives.

But in general it really depends and you have to listen hard (pay close attention) to hear how much contextual teasing, sincerity, irony, genuine respect, or...humbling self-reproach and self-depreciation he uses. Indicative towards how much (or how poorly) he internally regards himself and how he externally presents himself to others, because it changes. All the time. His personal pronouns aren't fixed! ...Basically, I'm just as confused as Meryl (and it really makes narrative sense why she's so confused by him), not knowing which 'persona' is the real him! x'D

...Oh but a really good moment, in ep24 when Meryl pleads at him to be honest with her for once about all the tragedies, he uses 'boku' explaining everything to her about Knives. That's....really good. :O Like umm...him using 'ore' before with her (in the scar scene) kind of erected a subtle barrier when he refused to elaborate further, but using 'boku' so sincerely for her request.....like it..extends her the same humble level of courtesy/trust he'd use towards the 'family' he loves back at Home (+Rem)....but it's so loaded, cause he's being honest but still...distant telling her why he's better off alone. :')) Man...(the aaangst) Oooooh, but then ep25 is very telling too, cause he's mentally lost for the whole ep, always using 'boku' so anguished and self-deprecatingly....until Meryl saves him and he gives her his softest genuine 'boku' yet, after he recovers back to himself donning the red coat again, thanking and assuring her he'll be alright. :'D (Hooray~) Before internally switching back to 'ore' on his final quest setting out alone for Knives. Ep26: he still keeps that distinct assertive 'ore' in front of Knives "I [ore] will survive!" and 'boku' for Rem: "I [boku] will continue to believe in you, but will look to my own [jibun] words for guidance." :')) (Bonus: 'jibun' is added when he philosophically thinks in terms of 'oneself'/'myself' from now on.)

Bonus nuance: while younger Vash may have dependently followed Knives' lead around--back when they both used 'boku' together, older (current) Vash--using 'ore' with him, feels like he's grown to assume the role as the more independent, responsible older brother now, when he finally understands how to put Rem's last words to 'take care of Knives' into practice. :'))

So tl;dr: Vash tends to have a casual leaning preference for using 'ore' in most situations both private and public, but especially for whenever he asserts his determination involving Knives with a confrontational edge. 'Boku' is used exclusively (politely, with genuine deference & care) towards extended family members he loves (like Rem, Brad, Doc, and eventually.....Meryl; using the softest 'boku' towards her I've ever heard. ;.;) And for whenever he humbles himself in distress, feeling lost in turmoil or self-reproach. But it's not set in stone! Since both pronouns can be used sincerely or ironically in jest, for whenever he's feeling silly or playing a bit (donning a mask), easily switching depending on presentation or context too. 98 Vash simply does what he wants! While Meryl screams in confused exasperation!

As for 98 Meryl, she often uses the book-standard, more formal/professional 'watashi' when introducing herself (Stampede Meryl too), and her speech patterns are typically very polite and pleasant to listen to (with many lovely 'desu-wa' sentence finishers.) ...Until she changes to the informal, more feminine 'atashi.' Ex: when screaming at Milly to let her go (to Vash) as the city blew up during the Fifth Moon incident. The raw sincerity in her voice for that change is so...🥺 of her. Note, cause most other girls - from Rem, Milly, younger kids like Lina, to older (but youthful) grandma characters all informally use 'atashi.' So for Meryl to drop her usual formalities when her honest feelings come out ("I [atashi] need to go there!" - to the epicenter where Vash is) means a lot. :')) ...Ah! Cause she slips to 'atashi' again in ep25, in front of Vash (while he uses 'boku' at his most mentally lost and openly wounded state) at his bedside. o///o Oh my... Using 'atashi' again while crying to Milly in regret that she couldn't confess anything yet to Vash on his sendoff. So yes, Meryl's feminine 'atashi' side shows whenever she expresses her honest feelings. :'3

Now 98 Wolfwood is a special case, cause he speaks primarily in Kansai dialect, which is extremely hard for me to understand what he's saying in modified/shortened slang all the time. (Compared to say, Meryl who speaks very cleanly and polite.) I've heard him use 'ore' when offering kids food, the more rural/casual form 'oira' when confessing his turmoil to Milly at his most vulnerable, 'uchi' when talking about 'our orphanage,' 'washi' (the 'old man' form of watashi) when speaking in more formal/aged terms of 'God', to the slang form 'wai' (he casually prefers this one a lot, and Stampede Wolfwood uses 'wai' too, esp when introducing himself to new people, for most of the few eps he's even in, and it makes him sound like...way older than he actually is?) to even 'jibun' when talking about himself with distance in flashbacks. The impression he gives off is like that of someone who's come from a rural/street kid (orphan) background...but who speaks like a chill elder now?? who's aged far too soon for his years. That's my best interpretation of what's happening. (His slang 'wai' even slurs to sound like 'oira,' almost like 'wai-ra' sometimes; gah it's really hard for me to discern, I'm sorry.) Bonus: he teasingly calls Milly 'my honey' in english, while she playfully answers him back with the pronounced 'a-na-ta' (dear), so they def have an inside thing going on. Bottom line, he's very complicated *bangs head on desk* and his accent is too unfamiliar/beyond my meager course level to fully grasp! :'D

To sum up (to the best of my hearing comprehension):

Stampede Vash: always boku, modest and unassuming towards everyone 98 Vash: BOTH ore & boku; not fixed. Casual preference for ore vs more humble courtesy using boku, but it's extremely context/mood/persona dependent, since he can mask & switch for jokes. Has a serious confrontational/determined edge using ore vs Knives--as if Vash becomes the older brother here, but always reserves the softer boku towards Rem and the found family he loves Stampede Knives: always ore, ever since he was a baby; so much edge 98 Knives: boku, coming off unnervingly childlike vs Vash's ore Meryl (both): watashi, but changes to atashi (98) when her honest feelings towards Vash show Wolfwood (both, Kansai dialect): primarily wai, but can use many other forms Legato (both): boku Roberto: ore Milly: atashi, but can mask using watashi when she's not fine Rem: atashi (98) & watashi (Stampede) Stampede Luida: watashi, but atashi when casual with teen Vash Brad (both): ore Dr. Conrad: watashi Stampede Elendira: watashi Stampede Zazie: boku

Now besides the animes, since Trimax is a whole other overwhelming complicated beast, and since I don't have access to check (nor would I even be able to easily read/understand) the Japanese raws, I'd be VERY interested in someone's investigation and breakdown into the manga's pronouns, especially for Trimax Vash, since I've heard that beyond 'boku,' he shifts and evolves throughout his journey too, possibly ending on a very soft wizened, matured 'watashi' that I'd love to hear more!

#trigun #commentary #meta #long text post #me thinking this would be a fun and interesting rewatch activity #*gets Immediately Pulverized by unexpected curveballs and difficulty*#ohhhhhhh my college courses in japanese aren't strong enough for this #that i know i could not survive trimax's raws; i'd be destroyed instantly

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lurkingshan · 3 months

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Japanese QL Corner

It's a quieter week as a few shows have just wrapped and the next wave hasn't started yet, but there is still Japanese ql airing, including what is shaping up to be an all time fav. Both of these current airing shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Love is Better the Second Time Around

This show is so good, and so mature in exactly the way I hoped. And I don't mean mature as in explicit--there is sex in this show but it's not some wild heat level. It's mature in that it's a story about characters who know themselves, know what they want, and draw boundaries. Both Iwanaga and Miyata are going down as favorite characters for me; I especially love that Miyata is a more knowing and self aware spin on a really well known bl archetype (think Rain from LITA but if he actually knew exactly why he was reacting the way he was to Payu and was mad about it instead of just overwhelmed and confused). This week we got a lot deeper into his teenage hurt over Iwanaga and now have a firm understanding of why he's alternately giving into and resisting this attraction. I am looking forward to Iwanga figuring out how to repair the damage he caused and earn his trust back.

My Strawberry Film

This was easily my favorite episode so far of this meandering little show. Every week I am left wondering what exactly this drama is trying to say and be; it certainly doesn't feel like a bl. We have spent the vast majority of our time on doomed het romance while Ryo quietly pines for his oblivious friend in the background. But this week we finally got to know Minami outside of Hikaru's narrow gaze, and I like her a lot. Her scene with Ryo where they discussed their romantic woes and established each other as a safe zone was very sweet, and showed how perceptive she is about all these dynamics happening around her. I was discussing with @bengiyo whether the show is going for an aromantic read with her, and I'm not sure. I see the makings of it, but the presentation of her feelings on romance feels a bit muddled. I loved her calling Hikaru out on being self-centered and having absolutely no patience for his petty jealousy. Hikaru thinks he likes her, but he doesn't actually know her (or his own best friend). I liked the final scene between Ryo and Hikaru as well, and the terrible angst of Ryo's confession that he immediately took back. The way the lights and audio from oncoming traffic played over his face in that scene was a really fantastic way to communicate both a moment of clarity and a moment of fear in the aftermath. I'm curious to see where this show takes the ending; a romantic conclusion for the two boys would not feel genuine to me at this point, but I could see them leaving us on a note of burgeoning curiosity and hope.

Bonus: No Touching At All

I recently watched this 2014 jbl on @twig-tea's recommendation, and I really loved it (I have already watched it twice and will definitely be doing so again). This is a classic office romance between a young gay man, Shima, and his "straight" boss, Toga. It's a simple story but well executed, and the film has a strong sense of place that I really loved. Shima and Toga have a fairly instantaneous attraction, and Toga is the kind of laidback character who simply never gave much thought to his sexuality and doesn't care about the fact that Shima is a man; he likes who he likes. Shima, however, is carrying a lot of internalized homophobia and trauma from closeted men messing him around in the past, and has a hard time believing in Toga's sincerity. I really love the way this conflict plays out in the story, and I especially love the way Toga talks to Shima. He's a no bullshit kind of guy and he tries his best to reassure Shima, but he's not a pushover, either. Ultimately Shima has to work through his own insecurities and make the choice to be brave to make the relationship work. The ending of this one is amazing and left me feeling very confident in this couple, and I can't recommend it highly enough. It's the grey for this one, unfortunately, but if you have trouble finding it in HQ let me know and I'll point you (don't watch it on YT, the version on there is potato quality).

#japanese ql corner #love is better the second time around #koi wo suru nara nidome ga joto #my strawberry film #no touching at all #japanese bl

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lees-chaotic-brain · 6 months

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I want to tell Inumaki that he is Perfect. He is so expressive and loving even if he can't communicate...I feel like he would be sad for not being enough BUT LIKE HE IS THE NICEST IN WHOLE WORLD 😭😭😭😭 cryin rn

I was feeling really down, but writing this made me feel better, so thank you anon for sending this lovely little idea in.

CW: Shibuya spoilers, mentions of past injury, loss of limb, hurt/comfort, implied depression, insecurity, scars, non-sexual nudity

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“Hey baby, I’m back.”

You called out to your boyfriend as you stepped into your shared apartment. There was no response, but his shoes were in the doorway and his coat was hanging on his hook. Padding into the living space you still couldn’t find him.

“Hey, babe? Toge?”

Concerned you call out again. You knew things were rough for him right now with the five year anniversary of the loss of his arm coming up next week, but you hoped it wasn’t bad enough for him to run off.

The thought caused panic to bubble in you, your chest constricting as you hurriedly went to check the bedroom. The room was a mess, pictures and random scraps of paper strewn about. Picking up a few near the entrance, you realized that they were artifacts of your high school days. Pictures of you and Toge on dates, hanging out with the other second years, and sweet notes he wrote for you made up the mess scattered across the plush carpet.

Then your heart sank. As you surveyed the whirlwind of memories, you realized that they all had something in common. They were all from before the Shibuya Incident. Before he lost his arm.

Following the sound of running water, you pick your way across the room and push open the bathroom door. A blast of steam hits you in the face as you flip the lights and fan on. There he was.

He was sitting in the shower still wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, unresponsive as the near scalding water cascaded down on him. Without a second thought you peel off your shirt and socks before climbing into the shower with him. Crouching before him, you gently brush his sopping bangs out of his eyes.

“Hey babe. Found you.”

You smile softly at him, cupping his face with your right hand. He doesn’t respond, but he leans slightly into your touch.

“Can I hold you?”

You keep your voice gentle and quiet, your heart breaking for him. A slight, barely perceptible nod was the only sign that he even heard you. Maneuvering so you were sitting beside him, you wrap one arm around his back and lean against him. After a moment, he tilts his head so it’s resting on yours.

Sitting in silence, you give him the space and time he needs. After a long stretch of time, he pulls away and turns so you are facing him. You place your hand on his knee and squeeze it, silently telling him that you’re there for him, and he can take all the time he needs.

Clumsily, he begins signing with his remaining hand.

Why are you still with me?

Of all the things he could have asked or said, this was not one of the things you would have anticipated. You take a moment to think. Then you reply simply and bluntly, wanting to make sure that he understood what you were saying.

“Because you’re you. And I love you.”

He looks frustrated and his signing becomes jerkier as he speeds up.

But look at me!

He makes a vague gesture towards his entire body.

“I am. And all I see is the man I love.”

You have an idea where this is coming from, but you want to wait until he says it because the idea that he would think so lowly of himself physically pained you.

But I’m useless! His shoulders slump and he repeats the hand motion. Useless.

“You’re not useless.”

You say firmly.

“Not even in the slightest.”

I am though.

The haunted look of self-loathing looked unnatural on his gorgeous face.

I’m practically useless as a jujutsu sorcerer. I already have this technique that hurts me more than it helps others. Now I can’t even make up for my weakness with my physical ability because I lost my arm.

Tears join the shower water dripping down his face.

And not only am I a worthless jujutsu sorcerer, I’m a pathetic boyfriend. I can’t hold you, the person I love more than anything else in this world, in my arms. I’m not strong enough to protect you. Hell I can’t even tell you I love you with my words!

He averts his gaze to the water going down the drain.

And on top of all that, I’m selfish. I know I’m worthless. I know I’m not good enough for you, but I need you. I’m not a good enough person to let you go.

Finally done, his hand dropped to his side with a small splash.

“Hey.”

Your voice is loving, but insistent as you speak.

“Look at me.”

He complies, his lovely violet eyes dark and hopeless.

“You told me to look at you earlier. And I am. Do you know what I see?”

A pathetic man who-

You continue talking, ignoring him.

“I see the man I fell in love with in high school. He’s grown up and changed, but at heart he’s the same person.”

You caress his cheek, looking deep into his eyes.

“His face has sharpened and become more handsome.”

He shuddered against your palm as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and jawline.

“His eyes show that he’s seen and experienced indescribable horrors. He’s lost that innocence. But I love him all the more for it. Because I’ve changed too. I’ve lost my innocent belief that we are untouchable. I’ve become harsher, more pessimistic, and less emotional. But you know what’s in my heart?”

You take his hand and place it on your chest. Quietly he watches you, and you can see that your words are starting to penetrate the self-hatred clouding his mind.

“In here lives the silly teenage girl who thought that she and all her loved ones were untouchable, invincible. The girl who cared too much about anything and anyone. The girl who spent hours daydreaming about going on romantic dates with her white haired classmate that always had a mischievous spark in his eyes. The girl who kept a meticulous journal of her dream wedding to a boy with purple eyes and beautiful markings around his mouth.”

The corners of Inumaki’s mouth lifted a miniscule amount and his eyes softened as he remembered. Encouraged, you reach behind you and turn the water off. Continuing to speak, you begin removing his soaked sweatpants.

“As for your inability to tell me that you love me with your words, that has never bothered me.”

Placing the sweatpants beside you to deal with later, you gently tug on his arm until he stands and steps out of the shower.

“Honestly, I like it better that way.”

He shoots you a disbelieving look at your words, but allows you to dry him off before helping him into a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants.

“Really, I do. It’s so easy to say the words ‘I love you’ and not mean them at all. It’s a lot harder to fake it or lie if you have to express them through your actions. The way you worked so hard everyday to make sure I knew how you felt made me feel even more secure and loved than a few shallow words could.”

You quickly dry yourself off and change into a fresh pair of panties and a new shirt. Leading out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, you sit in the middle of your bed and lay a towel across your lap before patting it. Obediently he laid down and put his head on your lap. You began drying his hair.

“You’re special, Toge. You express yourself through physical touch and acts of service, and have never verbally said the words ‘I love you’ to me, but let me tell you. Not once, in the five and a half years we’ve been dating, have I doubted for even a second that you loved me. Do you understand? I don’t need you to be able to say the words to me. I already know.”

After you finished drying his hair, he sat up and faced you.

But what about my arm? Do you really want to be with me still? I’m disfigured and disabled.

The look in your eyes is so tender he can barely stand it. Why? Why do you look at him with such love and affection?

“Toge.”

You breathe, the look on your face telling him that you knew exactly what was running through his mind.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because of these.”

You squeeze his bicep.

“I fell in love with you because of this.”

You tap his temple.

“And because of this.”

You lay your palm flat against his chest. Looking up at him, he can see the sincerity shining in your eyes.

“I love you for you, Toge. You could be the ugliest, most ratchet mf to ever roam the face of the planet and I would still love you. Because you will always be my person. And I hope that I’ll always be yours.”

He nods, smiling at your word choice as tears well in his eyes, relief hitting him like a freight train as you managed to say exactly what he needed to hear. Tugging your arm, you help him pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he buries his face in your neck as you drape your arms around his neck and card through his hair.

He presses repeated kisses against the crook of your neck, each one a silent apology for doubting the love you shared.

You rested your cheek against his soft white hair and took comfort in the intimacy of the moment. Kissing the side of his head, you whisper the words you so desperately want him to engrain into his soul and never forget.

“You, Inumaki Toge, are perfect. Just the way you are.”

#lee's brain writes #end of 2023 collab #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader #enjoy this soft insecure baby boy inumaki #bc in my eyes he's a little gremlin/troll who loves to make mischief #also a meme master #but i was feeling depressed and sentimental so here you go #idk if you're going to get an inumaki fic not about him being a little shit again

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maireyart · 9 months

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Good Memories, Yours and Mine

A little illustrated drabble for @kakashiweek Rating: G Day 4: Any AU. Post-war. Obito could tell getting used to this version of him wasn’t an easy task for Kakashi, but their awkward attempts at being friendly seemed like a good start. Twice they’d found common ground, and twice it had ended in parting soon after; if not for the Sage’s mercy and jutsu mastery, they wouldn’t be strolling the streets of Suna now, during a small break between court sessions. Getting in sync had felt natural in the midst of battle, but getting along in the thick mire of post-war stagnation turned out to be way more difficult.

Frankly, Obito still barely recognized himself; self-restoration was a work in progress. He hadn’t associated what he saw in the mirror with “Uchiha Obito” for a good deal of years, but now he sometimes absently wondered if his real self could still be seen through the battle-weary shell of his body or the grim lines on his face. Only the eyes seemed the same – dark, restless, and brooding, the Sharingan sealed away.

But apparently grannies could sense something regardless. They’d always clung to the lively boy he’d been, and when an old lady tugged at his sleeve and asked if he could carry her enormous suitcase up a flight of stairs (which were abundant in Suna), Obito got lost in the feeling of déjà-vu. It took him a few moments to process her words, and then he silently fulfilled the request under Kakashi’s amused stare. He knew one thing for sure: grannies’ intuition never lies. If that Suna lady approached him, then perhaps he did have something of the former Obito in his aura again; a tiny flicker of warmth only a perceptive person could notice.

“There was a time when I couldn’t stand your granny-related excuses. But now they’re good memories,” Kakashi commented with a lilt in his voice when Obito returned. “But I… I didn’t leave you any good memories, did I? If I did, it might have…”

Obito sighed. “You probably did,” he admitted quietly, “but they were few. Very few. And poisoned by what – what followed later…” It was a precipice they’d been hovering on for quite a while but couldn’t jump into just yet, so he made a mental step back and clutched onto a tiny vision that twinkled like a firefly in the dark mess of his mind. “Oh! Remember the day when you helped me with granny Hiroko’s errand? You were so nervous we’d be late for some stupid team training with some stupid invited specialists that you sank to my level just to make sure I’d be on time.”

“Uhuh. We ended up being late together anyway, only appearing after they’d left. An unforgettable event,” came the light-hearted response, and then Kakashi giggled. It was the strangest sound in the universe.

“‘Criminally negligent irresponsibility in time of war,’” Obito quoted Sandaime’s words mockingly. “For once I wasn’t the only one being scolded. And you actually enjoyed running that errand with me – don’t tell me you didn’t. You didn’t even chastise me after. And maybe you even snickered under that mask of yours when Sensei, pale and fidgety, tried his best to explain your ‘degradation’ and my bad influence on you to his superiors.”

“True, I was smiling,” Kakashi let out slowly, lost in the memory. “Their faces were funny.”

“Took you a long time to admit it.”

“Took me a long time to change.” He hummed and closed his eyes in delight. “Besides, granny Hiroko’s eggplants were tasty.”

Obito couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, really?” They had been ninja, and fighters, and soldiers, but sometimes they had been just kids.

***

(They were late for the court session; Tsunade was outraged by the irresponsibility (something familiar, huh) and gave them an earful, but both of them were only smiling...) _____________________ Huge thanks to @professor-of-naruto for proofreading, but I've changed 1/3 of the text since then, so I might have "enriched" it with new mistakes 😁 And huge thanks to @cool-thymus for the title idea and all the fun we had discussing this AU!

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thedamselzelda · 9 days

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Italian Dreams Ripped At The Seams

Author Chat: The first "chapter" of whatever I'm going to name this series. I'm not entirely sure yet, haven't settled on a name. BUT I have been DYING to post and get the ball rolling. I am in nursing school and I am writing almost everyday when I get home. the ideas are within my notes app, it's just the struggle of sitting down to do it.

Featuring: DarkEra! Dazai Osamu

Summary: Silence, it's something to fear in an already unstable world. In yours, it could mean anything. Your thoughts race as you think to yourself what the silence, the lack of communication, could actually mean, especially when that silence is caused by Dazai.

word count: 3k, fem!reader, pm!reader, sfw (light cursing), reader is occasionally called "Izanami" a nickname given to her bc of her ability (I'll let you try to figure that one out, until then stay tuned), reader is described as having violet eyes bc of her father (mentioned within this chapter) warnings: mentioned of self-harm, suicide attempt

The ceiling of the Italian Villa’s on-suite bathroom was one that could rival the Sistine Chapel ceiling, or at least, you think so. You’d never actually been or had even thought about it while living your life in Yokohama. Perhaps, now with your excruciatingly long stay in Italy, you would find yourself wandering into the building to admire another country’s history and artwork.

But that is not why you were staring at the ceiling, instead you were mulling through your thoughts of the past week or so. The shortened phone calls, now completely devoid of them, between you and… well he wasn’t exactly your boyfriend. Or was he? You two had openly expressed your feelings, you two fucked around without a care, but was he even exclusively yours?

You scrunched your nose at the thought. That wasn’t exactly the part that irked you. What bothered you was that he had abruptly stopped calling and sending his sweet letters to you six months into your “study abroad” trip that Mori had all but shoved you out for. He was always honest with you, and you with him, so what would change his perception of you now? Was he tired of you? Was he simply that bothered by your leave that distance does not, in fact, make the heart grow fonder?

You splashed more water onto your chest, resting in the warm bath, hoping it would alleviate the migraine that had accumulated while working today. Your last phone call with him wasn’t long enough. It was so short you could remember every syllable that fell from his lips.

“Mori gave him the Silver Oracle, but of course I told him I’d help him even without it.”

“Well, you’re his friend. Did he not believe you?” You brushed your hair, hoping the smell of formaldehyde had been washed away with your evening shower.

“You know he did, but I could still hear some reservations when I spoke to him. Also, you really gotta talk to him about his ‘no killing’ policy.”

You breathe out a laugh, “Look, he’s been wanting me to read those books for the longest. His mantra is his. I’m just gonna let him do him.”

Dazai sighed, knowing far too well that even if your friendship with Oda rivaled that of his, not even you could persuade him. “Oh, I also had to work with your fath- I mean, Hirotsu. I tossed him my game and he totally fucked up my win streak.”

Your eyebrow twitched at hearing the intentional mess up. “Osamu, just commit to the bit next time. Also, why would you even toss your game to him.”

Dazai chucked on the other side of the receiver, “I had work to do.”

“Oh yes, big mister executive had to go clean up my father’s mess. I see.”

You didn’t hear anything from him for a moment. You knew he was smiling, but it was a solemn one. He knew how much you wanted to be executive. You were born into the mafia, he wasn’t. While it wasn’t technically a birthright, the two of you felt like it was meant to be yours. Pushing back to the previous topic, you spoke again.

“Tell Oda that I’m looking forward to getting a letter from him. He didn’t pick up the phone the last time I called, but it sounds like he’s quite busy with whatever Mori has tasked him with.”

Dazai hummed to you in response, picking his next words carefully. Slipping into rough Italian, as if he couldn’t let anyone know, and spoke, “I’m worried about him.”

Your mouth curled into a frown, placing the brush down on the vanity. You picked your phone up, taking it off speaker, and placing it to your ear.

“How so?” you reply back, your Italian just as rough.

“He’s…” You could tell Dazai hadn’t had as much experience in the language, having only learned it to speak with you while you were in Italy. It was much more help than he could realize, as you were barely able to converse with your mentor, with your native tongue being Japanese and only knowing basic English. Dazai attempted to keep speaking, “He’s up against a skill rival to his. I just don’t foresee any outcome with this group going well.”

You hum back to him this time, unsure of what to say. You had heard through your contacts about this rival group, Mimic. Now, they had taken Ango, one of Dazai’s friends, your acquaintance. You knew dealing with any foreign group such as this always resulted in death, something you were intimately familiar with, so the thought didn’t plague you too much. Rather, the tone of Dazai’s voice and his words meant that it was Oda who could be the one at the center.

You cease speaking Italian, “I’m sure, whatever the outcome, the four of us will end up at Bar Lupin, clinking our drinks together and laughing about all of this in…” You think to yourself how much longer this sentence is, “three and a half years?”

Dazai puffs into the receiver, whining, “That’s too far from now. I’m gonna have to tell Mori I require a much-needed vacation to Italy real soon.”

You laugh, flopping down onto your down bed with satin sheets, “I would like that very much.”

The two of you fall silent, your eyes growing heavier and heavier. The silence was common toward the end of your phone calls. Sometimes, you could swear he would stay on just to hear the sound of your soft breathing. You would have, if that insomniac would ever fall asleep.

“Bella, you can go to sleep. You’ll get my letter tomorrow. Just imagine I’m reading it to you.”

“It’s not the saammme.” You groan, throwing your arm over your eyes. “I get why Mori would send me here but fuck for four years?! I would serve the organization better if I was there!”

Dazai was silent, almost as if he didn’t want to agree or disagree with your statement.

“He said it was to hone your ability now that he couldn’t focus on you anymore, so I suppose it’s for the Mafia’s benefit more so than yours. You know where I stand regardless.”

“I know.” You voice was light, emphasizing your feelings.

“I’ll be the one that picks you up from the airport, though. I’ll even sweep you up and spin you around if it gives you something to look forward to.”

You roll over, smiling into your pillow.

“You’re definitely going to be dreaming about that now.” He laughs, possibly daydreaming about it already himself.

You chuckle, smothering your flushed face.

“Get some rest, cara mia. I’ll talk to you again in a few days.” His voice was soothing and low in tone, as if he knew his voice was lulling you to sleep.

“Talk to you soon, mon cher.” You sleepily say, waiting for him to end the call-but he doesn’t. You knew he was waiting for you to fall asleep, your eyes closing until you found yourself opening them again in the morning.

You open your eyes once more gazing upon the painted ceiling above you. It had been a week since then, placing you back into your thoughts on why he hadn’t called, written, or at least attempted to contact you in some other form. Even Oda and Mori hadn’t spoken to you. Which placed you in even more confusing thoughts. Surely, you thought to yourself, surely Mori wasn’t eliminating you from the Mafia. If that were the case, you would have already been killed and disposed of, and the mistress of the Villa, nor your mentor were acting anything out of the normal.

You gaze down, pinching the bridge of your nose. Any more thinking on this topic and surely your head would explode, which would be an invited reprieve at this particular moment. Your eyes dance down to the water, noticing your scar, which was deformed by the refracting water. One on your arm, you reached over to touch, remembering how you and Dazai had taken a knife across your arms hoping for it to be a beautiful double suicide, but alas, Mori found the two of you. He stitched up Dazai, forcing you to stitch up your own wound. You could feel a tear breech and slide down your cheek.

The great Izanami does not cry.

You grab onto the porcelain tub, pressing yourself deeper into the water, forcing your neck, then your face into the water. You open your eyes underneath the water, holding yourself there. Perhaps, if Dazai is done with you-if Oda is done with you-then maybe this is how you should go. You release some air from your lungs, allowing you to sink further under the water. You release your hands from the sides, submerging them, too.

Your lungs begin to burn, screaming for you to go up for air, but you refuse. You blink as you hear a garbled voice within the bathroom. If it is the mistress, there was nothing she could do to stop you. One touch and she would be gone. She knew the rule when it came to you. You blink again, seeing a dark outlined figure standing above the tub. You think to yourself, maybe it is him. However, if it is, he would have already pulled you up. So, it couldn’t be.

You find yourself gasping at fresh air as someone pulls you up from behind, their small hands snaking under your arms.

“Honestly, could you please not kill yourself? I’ve invested too much into you.”

You blink as your eyes burned slightly from the water falling from your lashes. A hand towel is handed to you, and you wipe your face roughly before looking behind you.

“Thank you, Elise.” Mori says sweetly to the girl. She rolls her eyes at you, annoyed that she had to soak her dress to retrieve you.

“What are you doing here?” You say in a harsh tone, irritated that he has interrupted yet another attempt.

“I can come and go as I please, since I am the one funding this education of yours.” His voice returns to the irritated, tired tone that he always uses with you. He’s taken a seat at the chair beside the tub, placing a medium navy-blue box tied in gold ribbon on the side table along with a tan file folder.

“I haven’t heard from you in a week. So, I ask again, what are you doing here?” You become irritated by his intrusion, and deviation from your original question.

You sit up within the tub, not caring for his gaze upon you. He was your technical guardian after all, and you knew his interest in young girls. However, you were unbothered by his now as you neared adulthood, his interest had wavered in you increasingly. The only thing that bound the two of you now was his ownership of you and your ability.

“I suppose you were going about your days here in the villa, wondering what the outcome was with Mimic, since I suppose he told you a bit about the issue.”

Mori was visibly irritated, testing to see how much Dazai told you via your late-night calls. The two of you knew it was very risky to converse about such delicate matters, regardless of what form they were put into. However, you longed to be home, so Dazai had frequently indulged you.

“I just know Oda was involved. That’s all.” You tone was steady, you had lied to Mori countless times before, this time was evidently no different.

He arched his eyebrow, studying your face. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s resolved anyway. We got the permit.”

He closed his eyes in thought. You in turn began to study him, curious as to why he would come to the villa just to inform you of the Port Mafia’s success.

“That can’t be the only reason you’re here.” You turn in the tub, your legs folding into your chest as you cock your head. “To what to I truly owe this intrusion, Mori?”

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes darted between your violet ones, formulating his next words. “Sakunosuke Oda unfortunately passed during the fight against Mimic.”

Your eyes widen as you lean forward. You breathe out the only word that can formulate against your thoughts. A broken, “No,” escaping your lips.

Mori closes his eyes once more, leaning his head forward slightly, “And Dazai has disappeared. We do not know his whereabouts.”

“What?!” You spring up from the tub, water splashing about the floor and onto Elise and Mori. Elise groans, reaching for a bigger towel and tossing it to you. You wrap it around your body, attempting to create your next sentence against your pounding headache. “No, he… he would have said something. He would have contacted me. He wouldn’t…”

Your words trailed off as if they couldn’t follow your thoughts.

“Therefore, I came here because you needed to be informed of your new position. Or rather, the one you will take on once you finish here in Italy.”

You could barely hear him over your last conversation with Dazai playing out once more in your head.

"I’ll talk to you again in a few days… You’ll get my letter tomorrow.”

You hadn’t actually received the letter, which is what triggered your incessant thoughts. You had gone up to the mistress, day after day, asking if the letter had arrived, yet nothing came.

“While I am completely optimistic that Dazai will return.” Your eyes narrowed, anger seething from your gritted teeth. “I am leaving his executive position open for his return. In the meantime, you will assume a specially made executive position, and I have the documents to a club and a casino I would like for you to have control over to start with.”

He tapped to the file next to the navy-blue box.

“What’s the box for then?” Your eyes glance to the beautifully decorated box, curious to what could be contained within it.

“Dazai passed it to me a few days before he left, wanted me to send it to you. Instead, I thought it would soften the blow of the pervious news.” His hand fanned over the box in a presenting motion. “It’s been screened of course. Couldn’t have a defected member sending you something that would cause my newest executive to defect too.”

He gave a sly smile. He knew of your relationship with Dazai, but he also knew you feared a life without the Mafia more.

You sneered at him, “Why would I want that from a defected member?”

Your words were merely show, something to appease Mori since you had just been given your prize, however, it wasn’t for all your hard work of the past years. Rather, it was desperation on Mori’s part to hold you closer within his clutches.

“My, my… I didn’t expect you to be so cold when it comes to Dazai.” Mori stood chuckling but leaving the box behind anyway.

He began to walk toward the closed bathroom door, Elise opening it to escape the humid air within the room. He turned on his heel, however, before breeching back into your private room.

“I expect greatness from you, Izanami. Do not fail me.” It echoed within your head as more of an order, rather than a statement.

You emit a low growl at the name, hating to hear it from him of all Mafia members.

He smiled, pleased by your response, and closed the door behind him.

You wait for a moment, listening for the next click of the door being closed. Once you heard the faint noise of Mori’s departure, you scrambled, nearly slipping, from the tub. You grabbed the plush robe from the chair, donning it instead of the towel you had been holding up. Once you had tied the robe, you tear the gold ribbon from the box, haphazardly letting it flutter to the floor. Your hands hesitate with the lid. What if he knew he was leaving? What if…?

You sit down in the chair, placing the heavy midnight box within your lap. You take a deep breath, lifting the lid and placing it upon the file. Your fingers gingerly graze the gray tissue covering the contents, trembling. You notice a splash of darkness appearing on the gray paper. You harshly rub the remaining tears from your cheeks.

Why are you so afraid to look? To see the last thing he’s left you? Because it’s the last. There is no more Dazai. He’s dead as far as the, now, executive you are concerned, but the young girl in you? The one who’s lost the one person on this God-forsaken earth that could touch you without consequence? She was afraid.

You began to peel back the tissue paper, first noticing the maroon color peeking out within the box. Your finger grazed upon the soft material as you remove the right covering paper. Your fingers go to touch your lips, a small choking gasp escaping through them as your tears now forcefully fall from your eyes. It was a scarf he had bought because you had remarked how it complemented his eyes, yet he could never bring himself to wear it, stating it reminded him too much of Mori. You attempted to pick it up from within the box, but you discovered the additional contents that had been wrapped within. Three books, all too familiar to you shifted underneath the scarf. You could hear yourself begin to sob as you picked up the last remaining things of Oda’s clutching the items to your chest. You pressed your face into the scarf, hoping to find some comfort, smelling burnt gunpowder and a faint woody scent, reminiscent of him.

You could barely see through your tears, almost missing the final present that graced you.

In Italian, evident that he attempted way too many times to write the note, Happy Birthday, Bella. All my love. ~O <3

If I forgot to tag anything, or forgot to mention anything in the warnings, please let me know! I'm still just trying to figure all this out after using Wattpad for so long.

Thank you to everyone who reads this though! Hope you enjoy and look forward to what's to come!

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x y/n #bsd dazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd x you #darkera Dazai

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themorriganwitch · 1 year

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Never alone

Summary: Bradley finds you curled up on your living room floor, crying your heart out because your body image issues got the best of you

Trigger Warning: This One Shot contains mentions of self harm, body issues, Eating disorder and extremely overwhelming thought.

Words: 1,8k

A/N: This one shot means a lot to me, since it evolves around my own experience with body image issues, self harm and ED. If you are struggling with any on these topics, please know that you are valid and loved. If you ever want to talk about these things, feel free to send my a DM

Reblogs and Comments are always dearly appreciated

______________________________________________________________________

Your day actually started pretty good. It was a relaxing Saturday; the sun was shining, and you were able to sleep in since there was no need for a timer. The air was warm but breezy, so you wore your new green sundress, the one Bradley had gifted you last week because he saw it and it made him think of you. Then you headed out to meet Natasha for a late Brunch in the city.

You had an amazing time with your best friend, you laughed till your bellies hurt and talked about her upcoming vacation plans as well as about your bachelorette party next month. After you waved her goodbye when she climbed into her black Jeep, you had decided to make a short detour to your favorite clothing store, wanting to pick up a new set of lingerie to surprise Bradley as soon as he would be home after his day out with his boys.

But as soon as you slipped into the first set you picked out, a dark red one – your fiancées favorite color, and saw yourself in the mirror of the fitting room your entire mood changed.

Did your thighs really look that huge? Have your upper arms always been that wobbly? And your belly- you knew that you had gained some weight since you started your relationship, you just hadn’t notice how much you had gained, at least not until now.

And that’s how you found yourself sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing nothing but some panties and one of Bradley’s old shirts, eyes red and puffy from all the tears that had streamed out. You could not really wrap your head around why you are triggered to such an extent; you barely had any problems with your ED anymore since you went to therapy and worked through your issues related to food and self-perception.

But right now, you just felt like your 19-year-old self again who was lying on the cold bathroom floor crying their heart out while begging the Universe to just make the pain stop. To make you look like anybody else, to simply make that monster inside your brain, who told you to go to bed starving every. single. night. - stop.

Unworthy.

Unlovable.

Ugly.

All those thoughts circulated around your messed up brain, spiraling over and over until you had the feeling that you must die to make this horrendous pain stop.

Against knowing better, you spiraled even further, walking in the kitchen to grab the last chocolate ice cream cub that was left in the refrigerator. Hoping this would help to numb the emotional turmoil that had taken control over your entire body.

About thirty minutes later you found yourself again on the couch, t-shirt covered in brown stains while the tears had started to fall again. Your sobbing became frantically, your stomach was bloated painfully from all the ice cream you ate and now regret.

Trying to cover your emotions with food never worked and now you felt even worse than you did when you came home.

You lie down on the ground next to the couch, forehead pressed onto the cold tiles in the desperating attempt to ground yourself and simply sit this episode out, knowing very well that if this would not work you would go back into the kitchen, grabbing anything sharp you could find and stab your arms hoping the physical pain would over wash the emotional one.

Why did you have to go through this again and again?

Were you really this awful? How could Bradley even love you? You were ugly and obviously mentally unstable. He deserved better. So much better. After everything he had been through, he just deserved someone normal. Someone beautiful. Someone who is stable in themselves and who do not burden him with even more emotional ballast.

The voices in your head and the sobs you still could not managed to hold in were becoming so loud, that you did not notice how your fiancée stepped into your shared living room, a wide smile on the lips which slowly fades as soon as his eyes catch your embrace.

“Honey?”, he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He slowly made his way to you, trying not to frighten you since it didn’t seem that you had noticed him.

His heart ached at his view: the love of his life curled up on the cold floor, your breath unregular from all the loud sobs escaping your lips. “Honey”, he tried again, this time a little louder.

If he thought the sight in front of him was hurtful a couple of minutes ago, he could feel his heart shatter as soon as you lift your head, eyes red and puffy, tears still running down your redden cheeks.

“I’m so sorry”, you said, voice raspy from what feels like hours of crying. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry”, you repeated yourself all over again, gratefully throwing yourself into Bradley’s strong arms as he sunk next to you on the ground.

“Shhh it’s okay, baby”, he said, rubbing your back in soothing motions as he pressed a loving kiss onto your hair. “I’m so sorry. So so sorry”, you repeated again and again.

After something that felt like hours, Bradley had managed to maneuver the two of you back on the couch, your head pressed in the crook of his neck while your sobs slowly start to fade. Your boyfriend had barely spoken to you, except for the occasional “It’s okay, I am here with you” and “Let it all out, you are safe with me”.

“What happened, baby girl?”, Bradley asked softly, after he made sure you were now calm enough to answer his question.

You cleared your throat, before lifting your head to meet your boyfriend’s beautiful hazel eyes. “I am not sure. I went out with Nat for Brunch and then…”, you went ahead and told him everything about your day and how you ended up on your living room floor.

Bradley sighed sadly. He knew about your body image issues and your Ed, you had told him about it after a couple of months after you had started your relationship. He knew all about your struggles, your nearly manic episodes when your thoughts tend to get the best of you, and you spiral deeper and deeper. “What were you thinking?” he asked, attempting to give you the opportunity to get rid of your overwhelming thoughts.

You closed your eyes, debating with yourself if you should tell him the truth, terrified of the idea he could think you are insane. But then you looked at him and you saw nothing but love and admiration in his eyes and you just knew that if you could not tell Bradley about what was going on, there would never be someone who could understand you.

“I just were in this fitting room, and I felt so ugly. So so ugly. And then I went home, and I just felt so awful, and I did not know what to do and in my head, everything got worse and worse. And then I asked myself why you could ever want me. Like you deserve so much, Bradley. You are the love of my life. You deserve someone stable, someone who does not carry that much baggage with themselves. Someone who is worthy of you love and someone who is”- you were not able to move on, because he cut you off, staring at you wide eyed.

“Hold on. Hold on”, he said, brows furrowed in concern. “Baby, how could you ever think that you are not worthy of me? Please listen carefully, honey. I love you; I love you so much that sometimes it feels like my heart must explode in my chest from all those emotions you make me feel. I know we are not married yet, but when I asked you to share your life with me, I promised you that I will love you always. Endlessly. Unconditionally. And I don’t care if you are not perfect, because no one is Baby. Even though, for me, you are”, he smiled softly at you, cupping your heated cheek with his right hand.

“You are the most beautiful person I ever had the pleasure to meet. No matter if you are all dolled up in sexy red lingerie or in dirty sweatpants and one of my old navy t-shirts. I don’t care if you gained weight, nor do I care if your thighs might look bigger than normal cause our bodies simply fluctuate from time to time. But I do care about how you are feeling about yourself, and if you don’t feel good about yourself, I am here to talk to. Please, for the love of God, please talk to me. We are a team, baby girl. Your problems are my problems, and your enemies are my enemies. And it does not matter if I must get at an actual person or the monster you have in the darkness of your thoughts. I am here to fight with you. And I will always fight for you. Okay?” You nod, again feeling tears swelling in your eyes but now not because of the overwhelming hate you feel for yourself but for the soothing love your fiancée makes you feel. As he always makes you feel. “I’m sorry”, you said. “I should have called you as soon as I knew how this would go down. But I was just so in my thoughts – “.

“No need to apologize”, Bradley interrupted you. “Next time you simply remember what to do. So, what do you think about taking a bath together? Getting you all cleaned up and then we can drink a tea, cuddle up in bed and watch an episode of the office?”

“That sounds great”, you answered smitten. “I love you, Bradley Bradshaw”.

“Not as much as I love you”, he answered before pressing a tender kiss onto your lips.

He heaved his big body from the couch, taking your hand and leading you both down the hallway to your bathroom.

The both of you knew that you would still have some stuff to talk about in the morning, but right now everything that matters were that you had your boyfriend right by you side.

Your boyfriend who just again showed how deeply in love he was with you, and that no matter how much your thoughts try to get the best of you, he would always be by your side to fight the demons inside your brain. With you. Together. Forever.

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun one shot #top gun Drabble #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x Reader #BRADLEY BRADSHAW x y/n #BRADLEY BRADSHAW angst #BRADLEY BRADSHAW fluff #bradley #Bradshaw imagine #BRADLEY BRADSHAW one shot #Jake Seresin #Natasha Trace #Bob Floyd #Dagger Squad

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edsloveydove · 2 years

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I Have Always Seen You

pairing: eddie munson x chubby female reader

summary: of course the boy i've known since 3rd grade, the one i've loved since 7th grade, would be the one to break my heart. i never thought he would be the one to fix it too...

warnings: bullying, fatphobia, use of the word pig towards reader once, falling off a bike, blood and cut knee from falling off said bike, self-doubt and sort of self-hate i guess, cursing, mentality that reader wouldn't be 'missed' (idk if thats a warning but just in case), no use of y/n, underage drinking, reader has an older brother for sake of the story (i gave him a really basic/common name), thoughts and flashbacks are in italics!! nickanames/pet names (shortcake, princess, honey, sweetheart), reader is at least a bit shorter than eddie, very poorly edited, talks of the demobats and upside down, again like very badly edited, lemme know if i missed anything, i'm sure i have!

word count: 9k+

notes: my first fic guys and it turned into this 9,000 word monster! wild! anyway, this might be trash i honestly don't know, i have no perception of it, pls let me know what you think!! also, this story is told in first person point of view so it uses 'i, me, myself' and all that, idk how i feel about it though tbh. uuuuh, enjoy!!

DON'T REPOST MY WRITING OR SHARE IT TO OTHER PLATFORMS (including mentioning it in tiktok comment sections and stuff like that pls) THIS IS MY WRITING, DON'T STEAL IT PLEASE!

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The sweltering midwestern heat was hitting Hawkins, Indiana early this year. School had only been out for a few weeks and it was already hot enough to have the city pool passing the max capacity damn near every day.

Luckily for me, I had been able to successfully avoid going every time my friends have asked me to join them. Until now.

“C’mon, it’s gonna be so much fun! Steve’s parents are gone again, like usual, so it’ll just be us and a few other friends!” Robin tries to convince me through the phone.

“Robin, I never believe ‘just us and a few friends’, because it is ne-”

“It’s never just a few friends, I know. But this time it really will be just a few people. Like, actually just a few people. After everything that happened during spring break and all that, Steve really just wants the main guys there. There’s not gonna be any crazy partying, we’re gonna swim and relax, that’s it.”

“I don’t know, I might be busy tomorrow,” I attempt an excuse.

“Then we’ll move it to when you’re free. We really want you there, you haven’t gone to any of our movie nights or other hangouts yet,” Robin points out while saying my name softly. “Is it something else? Is there someone you don’t want there?”

Robin isn’t entirely wrong, there is something else that’s keeping me from joining my friends. And technically it does have to do with someone, but not in the way she thinks. And that someone happens to be none other than the Eddie Munson.

I’ve known Eddie for many years. My older brother was one of his best friends while growing up having met in elementary school. James was in the grade above Eddie, and the one to introduce him to D&D, eventually passing on the title of Hellfire Club President to him as well. I was always in the background, hoping my brother would let me learn how to play just so I could impress him and his friends.

While they were occupying the basement, getting pizza and bottles of Coke every other Saturday for their stupid role-playing game, I was in my room reading trashy romance novels and out riding my bike to the library in hopes to seem cool when I came back late at night.

By the time I got to high school, it was James’ second to last year before he went off to college in Chicago on his big-shot football scholarship he managed to snag before he was even a senior. And yes, James was a Hellfire nerd and a star-athlete, so no one messed with their little club while he was there. Eddie was in his sophomore year, already antsy to graduate and move on to greater things.

I was just the outcast that didn’t even have a group. It didn’t matter that I was the captain of the football team’s little sister, I never made any friends because I never tried to.

Needless to say, yeah, Eddie and I had some history and maybe things got brought up when Vecna was trying to take over the world that might have been better left untouched. And maybe the idea of seeing him again brings butterflies to my stomach while also making my gut sink.

“No, it's not that. I just…I guess I just haven’t been feeling it since…since yanno,” I say, half heartedly.

Robin voices her understanding and tells me to just call back when I make a decision on if I would go or not. I promise her I will and hang up the phone. It’s not like I didn’t want to see them, because truly I did but it also wasn’t a complete lie when I told her I hadn’t been feeling quite right since the Venca situation.

It was a really traumatic and horrible experience for everyone involved, and really astonishing that everyone made it out alive.

‘Maybe I should just go…but what if it’s horrible? I know none of my lovely friends would ever say anything to me about it, but I just can’t stand the thought of them seeing me in a swimsuit, especially Eddie.’ I shake my head at the thought. ‘What a stupid thing to think, god, we all nearly died and I’m worried about my stomach in a swimsuit, how shallow is that? I guess some things just never change, no matter the life threatening situation…’

I go about my nighttime routine, washing my face and making sure no lights have been left on around the house. I say goodnight to my mother and fall right asleep. Or, I try to at least.

But my mind keeps me up for much longer than I would have hoped.

‘It would be a good time, though. Have a couple of beers, spend the night in one of Steve’s nice guest bedrooms. I wouldn’t even have to swim, I could just say I’m on my period or something. Ugh, but Robin knows that I always swam even on my period when we were younger. I’ll just wear a suit under my clothes and pretend the water is too cold even though it’s the peak of summer? Yeah, that should work. I can’t imagine anyone will care that much anyway if I’m not in the pool with them. I really do miss my friends.’

The next morning I call Robin and tell her I’ll be there tonight. She squeals in delight and tells me how happy she’ll be to see me.

Now it was just time to pick out an outfit, should be simple enough, right?

Well, after leaving it to the last second and now only having about 15 minutes to get to Steve’s when it’s already a five minute drive, having half of my closet strewn about my room doesn’t seem like a very good place to be at.

I finally sigh and opt for a swim suit from the summer before that I never wore, a green one piece with a wrapped sort of style for the top portion, and black cut off shorts and an old t-shirt that fits comfortably loose over it.

I grab my keys and kiss my mother on the forehead, reminding her I wouldn’t be back till the next morning.

Several shouts of my name reach my ears once I reach Steve’s backyard, it does bring a small smile to my face knowing I’ve been missed just as much as I’ve missed them.

“You’re actually here, I’m so happy to see you!” Nancy says pulling me in for a hug, Robin joining on top, squishing us all together.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s been a really hard year,” Nancy says sincerely.

Steve comes up for a hug next, squishing me for dear life, I could feel him about to try to lift me up and spin me around so I pull away rather abruptly.

“Alright, alright, it’s nice to see you, too, Steve.”

He answers with a kiss to the cheek and makes me promise that I’ll come to the next hangout and every one after that. I see Jonathan and he waves with a small awkward smile.

Finally my eyes meet Eddie’s.

“James! James! C’mon, come outside and play with me!” It was nearing the end of summer before James would go back to school for his 8th grade year and I would be going into 6th grade.

“Not right now, can’t you see that I’m busy? I’m too old to play outside anyway,” my brother rolls his eyes.

I hop down the stairs so I can see the basement fully now. Spotting all of my brother's friends huddled around our dinky old card table while he has books and notepads sprawled on his end.

“Well, can I at least play your game with you guys? I’m sure I can learn it fast!” I beam, faking confidence in hopes to sway them.

“No offense, shortcake, but it’s probably too confusing for you. Besides, we’re right in the middle of a campaign, it would be too hard to add in another character out of the blue right now,” Eddie says with a chuckle, like the idea that I could play is too amusing to even consider.

Naturally, I take full offense.

“Fine! You’re all so annoying, I didn’t even want to play with you anyway. Especially not with someone who has a buzzcut!” I stick my tongue out at them and run away, but not before I can hear them laughing.

Sitting alone in my room I know it was childish of me, especially for my age. James was probably right, he was too old to be outside playing tag with his sister. I was too old to be throwing a tantrum like this over some friends wanting to spend time with each other without one’s little sister hanging around.

“Hey, Munson.”

Eddie nods his head in greeting and goes back to talking with Jonathan. Well, that’s honestly about as much interaction as I expected to get from him tonight.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Robin exclaims, dragging you toward the cooler filled with ice and drinks, I grab a Sprite to start with.

2 hours later and my Sprite is still mostly untouched and it’s now gone lukewarm. The others are in the pool splashing and playing chicken, I sit on the side with my feet dangling into the shallow end, watching as they fool around and laugh. Giggles and quiet laughs leave my lips on occasion with them.

“You should get in, the water’s really nice!” Nancy says.

“Yeah! Strip for us and get in here,” Robin adds, making everyone laugh.

“You guys just want to get me out of my clothes, don’t you?” I play it off, shaking my head slightly. Giggles erupt again. I excuse myself to the bathroom after pulling my legs out of the pool.

Closing and locking the door behind me I look at myself in the mirror.

‘I should just get in the pool, shouldn’t I? I do feel like I’m missing out on what could be a lot of fun. And it wouldn’t hurt to wash all this sweat off of me. I could just keep my shirt on, I have an extra change of clothes as backup anyway.’

I finish my business and leave the bathroom.

After turning the corner to go back to the pool I run straight into something firm, nearly being toppled over before hands are at my forearms to keep me from doing so. Seeing dark curls fanning across this “something’s” shoulders and several patches of dark ink on its bare skin, I immediately know I have just run head first into Eddie. Great.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I murmur, keeping my eyes pointed down.

“It’s alright, shortcake. No harm done right?” he says, adjusting his head to try to catch my eyes.

I nod my head and pull away from his hands that still rest gently on my arms.

“Hey, hey, what’s up? You’re so quiet tonight, is everything okay?”

I nod again and pull away harder, rushing out the door to get back to the pool, ignoring his call of my name and a request to “just hold on a second.”

Pulling my shorts off quickly, I step up to the pool and begin to wade into the water before Robin stops me.

“Your shirt! You don’t want the chlorine to ruin it!”

My heart thumps, thinking of how I can handle this. My mouth opens to say something but before I can, Robin cuts me off.

“Just take it off, no one’s gonna make fun of you for being in your swimsuit and if they do I’ll beat them up for you and then we’ll all collectively agree to throw them out of the group. And don’t try to tell me that’s not what it is, I can see it all over your face. You’re allowed to have fun and go swimming, I don’t like to see you excluding yourself, no matter the reason,” she says.

Of course she would see right through any lie I could throw her way. That’s just how Robin is. No matter how clumsy she can be, she really is observant. Not only that, but she’s right. Nobody cares and if they do, that’s their problem.

I rip off my shirt and dive into the pool trying to minimize the time in which people could see me without it. Immediately finding Steve’s legs I yank his ankles so he falls backwards into the water with an unnecessarily loud screech.

It makes the rest of us laugh loudly until Steve comes back up for air with a thirst for vengeance. He chases me around the pool, not for long considering he’s such a strong swimmer and I’m really not trying very hard to get away from him, and catches me easily. His arms wrap around my waist and I cringe as his hands nudge my stomach, scolding myself for the action right after. Steve doesn’t care about my stomach, if he did, he wouldn’t be my friend.

“That really wasn’t very nice,” Steve says and starts lifting me out of the water.

“Steve, hey. Steve! Steve, no, I’m too heavy! Stevie, no! Bad Stevie! Bad!”

I’m thrown in the air as far as he can get me and I splash back down.

I come up spluttering for breath, “Oh, you are so dead, Harrington!”

All at once the rest of us are splashing and dunking him over and over, until he pleads mercy. Shrieks and squeals of glee and what might be considered laughter fill the air as everyone gets their turn being thrown into the water.

Eddie comes back out from the house and cannonballs in the middle of our ‘hate on Steve’ fest.

Eventually I end up back on the side of the pool in my shirt with just my feet in, this time so I can enjoy a fresh soda and mellow out a little, not to make myself smaller. Nancy and Jonathan have called it a night already, leaving Steve, Eddie, and Robin in or by the pool with me.

“I never noticed this scar? Where did you get it?” Robin points to my knee.

The nice old librarian put a hand on my shoulder gently to get my attention, telling me the library would be closing soon and it was best I head home, I hadn’t realized how late it already was. I pack everything together as fast as I can, quickly saying goodnight and unlocking my bike, trying my hardest to race home before the sun sets.

The wheels of my rickety bicycle pump faster and faster and in my haste I bump over a high curb without realizing, flying off and onto the pavement.

Tears spring to my eyes as air is sucked in through my teeth. I take a look at my knee and see a small dribble of blood seeping down it, my hands have little scrapes all over, spotted with little beads of red.

Not the worst I could have gotten from a bike incident, but bad enough to keep me from being able to ride the rest of the way home. It’s not far, but so much for getting back before the street lights turn on.

About 15 minutes later I make it into our backyard, dropping the two wheeled contraption from hell into the grass and stumbling through the door, all while sniffling back sobs.

“Oh hey, shortcake! James was starting to get worried about you, you really shouldn’t walk alone at night yanno? Next time ju-” Eddie cuts himself off after seeing the state I’m in. Of course he had to be the one to see me like this. Anyone else could have been sent on snack duty tonight, but it just had to be him.

“Oh my god, what happened?” He walks up to me.

I shrug my shoulders and look away. I catch a glimpse of how bad my knees and hands have gotten on the walk home. Blood drips down both knees, my left knee looking significantly worse than the right. Dirt and pebbles cover my palms along with streaks of crimson.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Tell me what happened? Please?”

I still don’t say anything, fresh, hot tears welling up and already spilling out. I refuse to let stupid Eddie Munson see me like this, all it would be is more leverage to make fun of me with.

He pulls my hand gently until I’m sitting down. Eddie appears in front of me with a first aid kit a few seconds later, carefully cleaning the gashes on my knees and scrapes on my hands with alcohol wipes.

“Did,” he lets out a shuddering breath, “Did someone hurt you?”

“No, god no Eddie, I just-, god this is so embarrassing, I just fell off of my bike is all,” I mutter, not really wanting him to hear the words as they come out.

“S’ not embarrassing, stuff like that happens. I just wish you would have told me, here I was thinking the boys and I were going to have to band together to cause hell for our favorite little goblin,” he says.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you guys wouldn’t really do that, I guess James might. Most of you guys don’t even really like me that much anyway, you don’t have to lie,” I whisper.

“That’s not true! Of course we would stick up for you!” he says like he’s shocked that I would think the opposite.

I just shrug my shoulders again and wipe my eyes, still avoiding looking him in the face.

“Here, let me help you up to your room. That can’t feel good to walk on,” he pulls me up from the chair and goes to lift me into his arms. I jump out of his reach before he can.

“It’s okay, I got it. Just- you better get back downstairs before they start worrying. I’ll take care of myself.”

“What? No, you’re basically limping just standing here, shortcake, let me carry you, it’ll only take a minute?” He phrases it like a question. Asking but also sort of demanding.

The idea is actually really nice, and I want to say yes to it. It would be like when the prince finally gets the princess in all those books I’ve read. Eddie could sweep me off of my feet and whisk me away.

But I know better, I know that he wouldn’t be able to lift me. Even if he could he wouldn’t so much as glance at me, again, I’m just his friend's little sister. Here only because this is where she lives.

“No thank you, I’m okay. Go ahead and go back to your game, I’m sure they miss you already. Nobody would even notice if I were gone, but they’ll practically riot without you,” I try to cover how deeply I believe those words with a laugh as I wobble away and halfway up the stairs before he can stop me.

“Um, I guess I don’t really remember. It’s probably just one of those super old scars you forget are even there,” I say, even though I recall the night I got it vividly.

Eddie’s eyes meet mine from the other side of the pool and they look almost…hurt at the possibility that I might not remember that day. Well, he didn’t get to feel hurt about it. He made it clear that he doesn’t care how I feel when we were in the upside down.

“Hmmm, yeah, I have, like, tons of those actually,” Robin says, “This one is from my cat, Steven, and this one-”

“You have a cat named Steven?” I cut her off. She gives me a look that says ‘duh’.

“But what about Steve? Like human Steve? Was this before or after you became friends? And how has this never come up before?” I practically shriek.

“Believe me, it has come up before. And yes, before she tells you otherwise, it was after we became friends,” Steve says, settling down beside me while throwing his arm around my shoulders.

“That is not true! I found him outside the mall before we became friends! We may have been working together at that point, but we were not friends yet!” Robin shouts.

“We were friends, she’s just embarrassed that she named her cat after me,” Steve whispers in my ear, making me giggle like a schoolgirl.

Even though I’ve never seen Steve romantically, he still had the ability to reduce me to feet kicking and hair twirling.

“What’s wrong with you, Munson?” Steve asks, noticing the scowl covering his face that usually carries a bright smile.

Eddie shakes his head, “Nothing man, just thinking about how I don’t have a beer in my hand right now.”

A call of my name breaks my gaze away from the mirror.

“You almost ready? It’s time to go!” James yells, entering my room. “Hey! You look great! It almost feels like I’m sending you off to prom already,” he says wiping fake tears from his cheeks.

I shove him in the chest and readjust my hair and the straps to my dress for what feels like the millionth time. It was a rather simple looking thing considering I had to sew it myself since the only dresses even near my size were too far out of theme for the 8th grade Winter Snowball or they were simply just ugly.

Light blue and white fabric lays delicately across my shoulders and down to my knees, matched with white slip on shoes and silver snowflake jewelry.

“You look really nice, seriously. I know how nervous you are, but it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” my brother assures me, slapping my shoulder much harder than necessary to push me towards the door, “Now it’s time to get your butt moving, let’s go!”

When we arrive at the dance I immediately catch eyes with Robin and speed walk to her. James goes wherever he's needed for volunteering.

After about 45 minutes the first slow song of the night comes on as I sit contently by myself at the far end of the bleachers. I wasn’t sad to not be dancing with anyone, I was honestly sort of relieved that I hadn’t had to dance all night. But watching all the couples on the dance floor does make my heart ache just a little.

“I haven’t seen you dance all night, what’s that about?”

“Why are you here?”

“Ouch, shortcake, I don’t even get a hello? And what, I can’t come volunteer with your brother?” Eddie says, fake hurt painting his face.

“It just doesn’t seem like you, I guess.”

He sits down next to me leaving at least enough room for another person to sit between us. He hands me an unopened juice box.

“Seriously though, why aren’t you out there? You don’t have someone you wanna get cozied up with on the dancefloor?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me in his typical annoying Eddie way.

I roll my eyes, as my stomach twists with shame. He’s mocking me, isn’t he?

“Nope. I’m okay with it though. Honestly I was perfectly happy just sitting here. Until you showed up that is,” I say with a shrug.

“Oh really? Well, gosh, who made you such a sour fart?” he laughs as I push him in the arm.

“Alright, c’mon then. Pity party is over, let's go do this,” Eddie holds out his hand and raises a brow when all I do is look at it confused. “Let’s go dance, shortcake, you should at least once before it’s over.”

“Um- I-” I’m at a loss for words. There’s no way he’s being anything but friendly but my stupid heart skips too many beats to count.

“Here, I need to go check on James and see how the other volunteers are doing. While I take care of that, I want you to sit here and decide if you want to dance with me or not. Of course, I won’t make you do anything you don’t wanna, but if you’re up for it, I’m here,” he says, bouncing back to the drinks and snacks table. I smile giddily at his back and stay sitting.

By the time the last song of the night played I was still in the exact same spot I had been for nearly 2 hours, waiting for Eddie to come back.

Immediately after he left, I knew I wanted to dance with him. Of course I would. I’ve known him since I was in 4th grade and have had a crush on him for a year now. All I had to do was wait a few minutes and I would get to live out a fairytale dream. Dancing across the room in a flowey dress with the guy I liked. Of course it would be strictly platonic on his end but it could mean something more to me silently.

So there I sat, with my empty juice box, tapping my foot in excitement. The first slow song ended and there was no sign of Eddie, but I was sure he just caught up with volunteer work. After the next 3 songs played I began to doubt myself slightly.

‘Maybe he hadn’t actually wanted to dance like it had seemed. But he looked really sincere when asking me. Yeah. And even if Eddie is just a regular teenage boy, and he can definitely be a jerk sometimes, he’s much sweeter and kinder than most. He wouldn’t leave me hanging like that. He’ll be back any minute now, I’m sure.’

By the time 11 more songs had played, I knew he wasn’t coming back. Tears were smearing my mascara while I sat as still as possible on the bleachers, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.

Of course he wasn’t being serious. He just wanted to tease me like usual, the only difference was this time it went too far. This time he was cruel about it. He could have just told me he didn’t mean it. Instead he strung me along and had me sitting here like a lovesick puppy for an hour straight.

Who was I kidding? Eddie couldn’t be interested in me. He was my brother's best friend and had seen me grow up. I was just his friend’s chubby little sister. Wearing a dress that doesn’t sparkle and shine like all the others’, sitting alone and pouting like a baby.

He probably thought I would crush his feet if I accidentally stepped on them.

After persevering through another hour of horror, James finds me in my corner ready to head home.

“All ready to go?” he asks jovially like he always seems to be.

“Yes.”

James picks up on my mood right away, but I’m already halfway to the car before he can say anything.

“Okay, uh, I gotta clean up some stuff still but here,” he throws me his car keys when I turn back around, “Go get the car started yeah?”

I nod and head out to the car when I see Eddie jogging up to the doors after me. My steps speed up hoping for all hell to avoid him. He calls my name but I don’t look back or slow down, in fact, the only thing it succeeds in doing is making me walk faster.

My hands shake as I try to slip the key into the driver’s side door handle. Warm hands settle on my wrists.

“Holy shit, I am so sorry, shortcake. I was so excited to dance with you, I really was, I just got caught up in helping another volunteer with something and lost track of time. I didn’t mean to forget you there all alone, I swear on everything. I know how excited you were for tonight and I am so sorry. I didn’t realize how long I had been gone until everyone started leaving and then I saw you get up and realized what I’d done, please forgive me,” he rambles off almost too quickly to understand.

I expect tears but all I get is a deep rooted feeling of shame and anger. Ashamed by the fact that I thought he would come back and angry at myself for sitting there hopelessly when I could’ve danced with Robin at least.

“Please, look at me. Please tell me you at least got to dance with someone else, right? You had a good time? Please tell me you at least had fun,” he pleads.

A scoff escapes me as I whirl on him.

“No, I didn’t dance with someone else, I sat there and I waited for you. I waited for you the whole time, and I guess that was my first mistake wasn’t it, huh? I believed you. I really thought you meant what you said to me.”

I rip my arms out of hold.

“You know what’s funny, too? I was actually having a really good time before you showed up. I told you as much earlier, even. I was perfectly happy to sit by myself, considering that’s how I spend most of my time anyway. I was really enjoying just watching the lights and the twirl of dresses, alone. I was overjoyed to just sit and watch Robin dance with her friends. And you had to come and- and lie to me! You made me feel special for fuck’s sake.”

His eyes flash with guilt and he must have finally realized how much he hurt me.

“I get that I’m not the prettiest and skinniest girl and I know that most of those kids don’t even know my name, but you do! You know me. You know me and you still forgot about me,” I pause and take a deep breath, “Do you remember what I said that night when I fell off my bike?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Nobody would even notice if I were gone. Nobody, not even you, I guess. You forgot about me not even 5 minutes after making me feel like the most special girl in that whole damn room. And that was really mean, Eddie. I hope you, at least, have a good rest of your night,” I step into the car and start the engine.

Steve plops down next to me holding 4 cans of beer, one for each of us.

“I’m really happy I came tonight, thank you, for inviting me and not forgetting about me after I kinda disappeared,” I say quietly.

Steve pats my back while Robin says something along the lines of ‘duh, of course we would never forget about you.’

Eddie stays silent, watching me closely.

I put my drink on the ground beside me and lay on my back, pulling my shirt down to make sure it covers me still. I start to count the stars, just to keep my brain occupied. My eyes drift shut, my mind choosing to visit yet another memory tonight.

It was James’ graduation party. All we had were a couple tables set up with snacks in the backyard and a bonfire, nothing too fancy. I made a simple ‘Happy Graduation!’ banner to hang across the gate for everyone to see, too.

I’m wearing a plain white sundress and converse, I knew I would be running back and forth from the backyard and the kitchen too much for heels to be sensible. Making sure there’s enough drinks and food and ice for everyone was my job tonight. The sun is still up, melting the ice and warming every drink out here.

James calls my name softly, “You can quit running around and tending to every little need. Come hang out with everyone for a little bit. Please?”

I set down the metal tub where drinks are kept and walk over to sit around the fire with him and his usual friends. New faces have popped up over the years, but many stayed the same. Danny Williams, a junior who may or may not have been my first kiss when we happened to both show up at the same party and ended up playing spin the bottle together, Jason Carver, a freshman who appeared promising on the football team before switching to basketball instead, Michael Brown, a senior who’s been in the little Hellfire Group since the beginning. There are several others I don’t recognize and even more that I do.

Of course, Eddie is there too. I just haven’t really…acknowledged him in…in a really long time.

I haven’t necessarily been giving him the silent treatment, but I stopped entertaining the conversations he always seemed to start with me.

Danny greets me with a smile as he sits down next to me. He even pulls his lawn chair a little closer towards mine, grinning slightly while doing so.

“What can I do for you Danny?” I say.

“Oh nothing. I just wanted to come sit by you, is all.” Huh. That…that sort of stumps me.

I didn’t think Danny would even recognize me at the party, and I’m honestly even more surprised that he wanted to talk to me after kissing me. We make small conversation, butting into the rest of the group's discussion once in a while to add an opinion.

Night had fallen and marshmallows and graham crackers were brought out for s'mores, as well as a couple of 12 packs of beer that someone had brought with them.

I knew James had gone to several parties to celebrate winning a football game where there had been alcohol, or even just little get-togethers where it was provided. I guess now that it was only soon-to-be seniors and high school graduates, minus myself, left at the party it was time for that portion of the night to begin.

I stand up to go in and let the others have their fun.

“Where’re you going?” Danny asks, grabbing my hand lightly, looking up with wide puppy dog eyes. His eyes are a pretty green color. Brown eyes have always been my favorite, though.

“Oh, I was just going to head in and call it a night. That way you all could have your fun without worrying about me dragging you down.”

My comment makes his brows furrow, his mouth opens to say something, but he’s cut off.

“You can stay out here, you know. No one minds having you here and I’m sure dear old James doesn’t care if you partake in a little drink, do you?” Eddie states. When did he get so close to us?

“Even if I did care she gets to do what she wants, man. As long as you're safe about it, go for it,” James says, patting my back and taking one for himself.

I’ve never drank before, but what the hell? James was leaving in just a few weeks now and this might be my only chance to try it. It’s certainly one of my last chances to hang out with everyone like this, at least for a while.

After just 2 cans my tongue had already loosened significantly. Danny and I had been talking and giggling the whole time until he had gotten up to go home since his designated driver was ready to leave.

“So, you and Danny seem pretty close suddenly?” Eddie phrases it like a question, wanting more information on the subject.

Usually I would just hum in what could be taken as agreement or disinterest but my mind was running a little slower than normal.

“Yeah, he and I kinda ran into each other at a party that I kinda crashed with Robin and we ended up, like, kissing and stuff,” I giggled. “But shhhh, don’t tell anyone else.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, but that could have been a trick of the light.

“What, uh, what do you mean by ‘and stuff’?”

“Oh nothing. We just had one teensy tiny kiss because we were playing spin the bottle,” I say, not really thinking about it.

Now I really know my brain is playing tricks on me because for a second I think Eddie looks pleased with this new knowledge that it didn’t really mean anything.

“I feel like we haven’t really talked in a long time. What’s, uh, what’s been up, lately?”

The question itself is awkward, but the way he struggled through it made it even more awkward.

“I’ve been regular old me, Eddie. Nothing new or exciting. Although I did finish a book last night that really threw me through a loop. Oh! Actually there is something exciting! Do you wanna hear it?”

He smiles, “Of course I do, shortcake.”

“Well,” I take another sip of what is now my third beer, “William Gillar and Stacy Johnson have finally graduated!” I let out a squeal.

Eddie just looks at me confused.

“Do you have any idea what this means, Eds? I am finally free of those two asshats for the rest of my high school experience! Isn’t that amazing! I mean, it was easier to ignore this year than last year, but god I am so thrilled! No more mean notes from them calling me a pig in my locker and book bag, I can even finally find a table to sit at for lunch instead of hiding in Mr. Steerwell’s class,” I sigh happily.

“Do you wanna know what else they did? This is so silly! They used to catch me on my walk home from school and steal my library books. How stupid is that? Why would you steal someone’s library books, right? They would run around with it so I would chase after them and then laugh at how my body would jiggle. How funny, right? I am so happy they’re gone, Eds, you have no idea.”

Eddie has his mouth halfway open, anger flaring in his eyes. But that couldn’t be right, why would he care about a couple of high school bullies.

“No, that’s not funny or silly. That’s been going on this whole time? And you didn’t tell anyone? God, why wouldn’t you tell someone, sweetheart? That’s horrible,” he says.

“Meh, it’s just normal high school bully stuff.” I wave my hand in dismissal.

“No, it’s not. Bullying shouldn’t even be considered normal anyway, but what they did to you? That goes far beyond normal, shortcake. I wish you would have said something. You know James and I would’ve taken care of them for you, right?”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it. It’s too late,” I dismiss him and his misplaced worry. Honestly, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. He must have sensed how much I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he dropped it.

The night moves quickly after that, people say their goodbyes as James takes over clean up duty, considering I can barely stand up without nearly falling asleep.

“Eddie, will you take her in and make sure she gets into bed okay?” James asks.

That’s how I find myself being semi-dragged up the stairs to my bedroom and thrown on the mattress like a sack of potatoes. I don’t think Eddie was half as rough as my brain made it seem, to be honest.

“Eds?” I whisper looking down at Eddie who’s kneeling by feet, gently taking my shoes off.

“Yeah?”

A couple beats of silence pass where I try to figure out how to word what I’m thinking.

“I forgive you.” His movements stop. “I hope you know that. It’s probably such a silly little thing to even remember but I forgive you for forgetting to dance with me. I probably would have forgotten me, too. And…and I am sorry. I really am, for pushing you away so hard after. It was really stupid of me and I wish I hadn’t. Robin is a good friend, but you’re kind of the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, I think. And I threw that all away over hurt feelings. Puberty, am I right?” I giggle.

“S’ not silly to remember that. And you weren’t being stupid, sweetheart. You were hurt, you were protecting yourself and I don’t blame you for that. I should never have even walked away from you that night, but I did. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness for it,” Eddie says.

More words mumble out of his mouth but none of it registers. Soon the noise stops and I feel Eddie’s warm hands pull my shoes all the way off, pushing my legs onto the bed and turning me to lay comfortably on my stomach.

He must remember that’s my favorite way to sleep.

My mind must really hate me because I swear, right before I fall asleep, I feel lips pressing gently to my forehead while a guitar calloused hand pushes hair away from my eyes.

Of course, that didn’t actually happen because that’s not something Eddie would do. Right? Yeah, he wouldn’t…

A timid shake to my shoulder pulls me from my dozing.

“Hey, shortcake, it’s time for you to go in.”

There’s only one person who’s ever called me by that nickname.

“Hm, it’s been a while since you’ve called me that…Eds.”

I don’t know what made me decide to use his nickname. It never seemed right to use it after we drifted so far apart when James left.

Eddie helps pull me to my feet.

‘Hmmm, he’s always been a lot stronger than he looks. I barely even lifted myself up for him.’

“Oh, now you wanna be all friendly again? Using a nickname and everything? What’s this all about, huh?” Eddie says, steadying me with his calloused hands when my legs wobble.

My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Earlier, when we were in the house. You practically ran away from me. I mean, it’s just that we…we haven’t seen each other since we went into the upside down. I thought maybe,” he lets out a long breath. “Maybe things had changed or something, I guess. I was hoping we could talk about it after we all got out but you’ve been avoiding everyone.”

“And why is that? Why do you think things would have changed Eddie?”

“No! No, no, no! Edward Munson, if you cut that rope, so help me god!”

“You know I always love when you use my full name.”

And the bastard cuts the rope.

The next thing I know, he’s out of the trailer doing something entirely too heroic and the exact amount of stupid he always is.

Before I can think I shove Dustin out of the trailer, the one not in the upside down, and send him to go help Lucas.

“No! We need to help him! Can’t you see that he needs help!”

“I know Dustin, I know. That’s why I’m staying here. But I need you to go find Lucas and Erica and check on Max. There are others who still need our help, Henderson. Please, listen to me and go help them.”

I turn back into the trailer before he can disagree again, locking the door to make sure he doesn’t follow. Without second guessing, I jump through the portal, landing somewhat safely on my side.

I manage to find a bike and just a few minutes later I’m riding as fast as I can towards the bat tornado that Eddie stands in the middle of.

“Eddie you dumb jerk, you better not be getting yourself killed!” I scream at the top of my lungs. His eyes catch mine as a look of horror crosses his face.

“Why the hell did you follow me? I specifically told you not to!”

“Yeah, well I specifically told you not to cut the rope!”

We fight off the bats as best we can until they all suddenly drop to the ground.

Eddie and I stand breathing hard, our brains trying to catch up with all of what just happened. Eddie turns to me, a grin beginning to form.

I punch him as hard as I can in the chest. And then I do it again, and then again and again, until I’m pounding my fists against his chest over and over again.

“What the hell?! Honey, stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

I choke on hiccupping sobs as hot tears overflow past my lashes.

“Don’t you ever do something like that again! Ever!”

Eddie grabs my wrists to keep me from hitting him anymore. I keep trying until I realize his hold on me is too strong.

“Princess, you gotta stop. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, please stop.”

He wraps his arms around me, stroking the back of my hair, pressing soft kisses to my forehead.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.”

“That was not okay, Eddie. Not okay!” I tell him looking up into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But look, we did it!”

He looks down at me thoughtfully. His eyes flit down to my lips. My breath catches.

He couldn’t possibly be…

His lips are on mine. And Eddie Munson is kissing me.

Both of his hands are on the side of my face, rubbing his thumbs softly across the apples of my chubby cheeks.

I pull away, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Kissing my shortcake,” he says with a smirk while I grimace at the phrase. He laughs at the face I make and kisses me again.

I kiss back harder this time, getting lost in all things Eddie. The way his hair feels soft even despite being so dirty. His lips are somehow minty. He smells like smoke and old books.

My heart soars. This has to be proof, then. Eddie must think of me the way I think of him. I can’t imagine ever kissing someone with this much passion if it didn’t mean something more. I smile into the kiss.

Footsteps sound behind where we stand and Eddie pushes me off of him, placing several feet between us. I look at him confused and hurt by his sudden change in behavior. He refuses to meet my eyes. He even wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, looking straight ahead at Steve, Robin and Nancy appearing in front of us.

Oh.

He’s too embarrassed to let his new friends see him with the big girl? Is that what it is? Does he suddenly regret kissing me? Was it just a heat of the moment type of deal, then? I was the closest human thing, so he settled on me for a little ‘yay the world didn’t end’ kiss?

In my whole life, I don’t think anything has hurt as much as that did.

An uncomfortable amount of silence fills the air..

“Things got weird after James left, but you know that. We both felt it, even though we tried to ignore it. Jason started to act like he ran the damn school even though we were friends at one point. I never saw you because we were never at your house anymore. Then I got held back and we basically had every class together. Then I got held back again and you graduated. I missed you. I really, really missed you,” he says the last part quietly. Almost like he was afraid for me to hear it. I hold back a scoff.

“I missed you so much, it’s ridiculous. I just wanted my shortcake back. My sweetheart, my princess, my honey,” he laughs to himself, I stay quiet. “God, I was such a jerk to you growing up. And not because ‘I had a crush on you’ because that’s bullshit, guys shouldn’t be allowed to be mean to girls with the excuse of it being ‘romantic’. I wish I had treated you better, been a little friendlier. I never realized how much you meant to me until your brother’s graduation.”

He takes his eyes away from his feet to glance at me.

“Do you remember that night? It was your first time drinking and you got so sleepy I had to tuck you into bed. You had told me about you and Danny at that party and it made me jealous. I’d never really felt jealous before, certainly not like that at least. It made me realize how deep my feelings for you went.”

I remain silent, partly because I didn’t want to interrupt him when this is the most honest and vulnerable he’s ever been, out of respect, and partly because I was utterly confused and angered by what he was saying and claiming.

“You forgave me for leaving you alone at the dance, even though I never deserved to be forgiven for that. I didn’t even know how badly you were being bullied at school until you told me, that’s not a person who deserves to be forgiven.”

A soft laugh and a pause. “I guess what I’m saying is…is I wish things had, in fact, changed after Vecna. And I know, that’s probably not something you want to hear because I know it’s not the same for you but I figure if you’re not gonna talk to me anyway, I may as well tell you, right?”

He takes a step towards the house but I don’t let him get far.

“What do you mean it’s ‘not the same for me’?”

“Well obviously you’ve been ignoring me since I kissed you so, clearly it wasn’t something you wanted.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And that’s okay. I’m not saying you have to be with me or anything, I’m just saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I’ve been ignoring you?” I ask, dumbfounded by his idiocy.

“Well, yeah. You haven’t even been answering the walkie.”

“And you think that was because I didn’t want to kiss you? Not because, oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that the second Nance and the others showed up you shoved me away from you? It couldn’t have been because it was obvious you couldn’t stand the thought of being seen with me?”

Eddie’s face drains of color.

“I can’t help but see now that this is all you think I deserve. A quick kiss when no one can see, right? A little making out before someone can figure who you’re with, huh?”

“No! That is not at all what that was! I can’t believe you would think that. I pushed you away so you wouldn’t be seen with me!” he shouts, cutting me off.

“What?”

“The whole town wanted me for murder! Murder! They thought I was running a cult that killed my friend as a sacrifice! My friend! I didn’t want you to be tied to that anymore than you already were, so I pushed you off before the others could see. If someone, somehow went yapping about a girlfriend of mine and things went sideways when we got out of the upside down, you might have gone down with me and I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t. I was going to tell you all of this as soon as I could but you never let me get the chance, and I see why now. I am so sorry it looked like I was embarrassed to be with you, but that will never be the case with me.”

He takes my face in his hands and looks me directly in the eyes.

“You are single-handedly the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out. You have always cared for me and the old Hellfire Club. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you sending cookies on our campaign nights, even after graduating. I remember when I showed up at your house looking for James because some older kids had taken my lunch money in middle school, little you went after them yourself and did one helluva job doing it. You sat me down and cleaned me up. Gave me peas to put on my forehead.”

It was like a forgotten memory was just pulled up by his words, I did remember that.

“I could never be embarrassed by you, ever. I don’t care what people think. I…I love you. And I love your hair, and I love your eyes, and I love your laugh, and I love your stomach and your thighs, and I love your mind. I love you and I hope you can see it. I hope…I hope you can see me,” he finishes off in a very quiet whisper, tilting his head down and away from my eyes.

I place my hands over his that still hold my face.

“I have always seen you, Eddie Munson. Always.”

His head jolts up to look me in the eyes once more.

“God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I know you’re not a horrible person, I should have known, I’m so sorry. God, you were literally being hunted for murder and I was crying about you being embarrassed by me? I’m so fucking sorry.”

I shake my head and take a deep breath.

“I love you, I have for so long. I love the way you smile, I love the way you’re not afraid to take up space, I love the way you’re there for Dustin, the way you were there for me countless times. I love you and your horrible music.”

“Hey, now. Watch it.”

I laugh, “I love you and I see you and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re forgiven, I promise. You didn’t even really need to apologize in the first place.”

“Yes, I did. Because none of that was fair to you.”

“And none of that was fair to you, shortcake. It’s okay.”

I look at his lips, and that’s all the cue Eddie needs to kiss me. Finally. We put our hearts into it, getting lost in each other. Getting lost in our sudden understandings of the other.

“We’re both really kinda stupid aren’t we? Stupid and oblivious,” I say, chuckling quietly.

“Oh, definitely. I mean, we’ve known each other for, what, at least ten years and we couldn’t figure this out without a bunch of drama?”

“It seems very on brand for you actually, you’ve always been one for the dramatics.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #my boyfriend eddie #my writing

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