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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days

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𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ─ JH⁸⁶

TRACK 18 ─── IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | almost a year ago, your whole was shattered by the one person you'd never thought would hurt you. and now you were back in the city where it all started with one simple mission ─ get him back.

─ word count | 2.5k

─ warnings | oof where do i begin, angst? obviously second-chance romance, slightly suggestive, mention of drinking/getting tipsy, jack being a cocky ass, slightly fluffy? idk just a lot of word vomit but yeah!

─ taglist |

─ ev's notes | yaya! first ttpd celly fic is out!! hoorayyeeee!!! also i've been listening to this album like on fucking repeat since friday and holy shit, this is probably my third fav now (sorry speak now). i also literally can't choose a fav but according to my music app, i've listened to so high school 72 times since it came out!!!!!!!!

YOU SWORE YOU'D NEVER COME back to New Jersey ─ but, here you were.

How you ended up here, tipsy and alone in this bar? You're not exactly sure. What you do know is that the night started in your childhood home with your parent's very expensive bottle of wine. And now you were here, in downtown Jersey in one of your old high school dresses that fits a little tighter than it did almost 5 years ago.

Your lips were stained red as you ordered another glass of Blueberry Gin & Tonic. You didn't know when you had started drinking Gin & Tonic but a lot had changed in the last couple of months. You didn't even know who you really were anymore, it was blurry.

And you could blame all of that on your high-school sweetheart ─ the person you'd thought you'd spend the rest of your life with. Key word: thought, as in past-tense.

As you swirled the ice in your glass, memories flooded back like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your mind. The late-night drives down highway roads, the whispered promises of forever, and the way your heart used to skip a beat at the sight of his smile. But somewhere along the way, those promises faded into echoes, and the smiles became almost bitter memories.

It all came crashing down a few months ago. The pain was like a dagger through your heart, leaving you gasping for air in a world suddenly devoid of color. You lost the one person in your life who made you, you. You had to relearn who you really were without him.

And in the aftermath, you tried to pick up the pieces of your shattered and almost confusing life, but the wounds were too deep, the scars too raw. So you ran, running from the memories that now haunted you, seeking solace in the anonymity of far-away cities and unfamiliar faces.

But no matter how far you ran, you couldn't outrun the ghosts of your past. They followed you like shadows, lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.

And tonight was no different.

When your eyes locked with his familiar blue ones, a particular ghost of your past appeared. And you didn't miss the way you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw his now grown-out hair (you'd never let him grow it out when you were together) and his soft stubble that you always made him shave. But it suited him, he looked more mature.

But you weren't surprised, it almost seemed like fate. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that you knew, in the back of your mind, he always liked spending his Saturdays playing pool with his friends, in this exact bar. You pretended like you hadn't planned this entire thing.

And so you feigned ignorance, pretending as if you hadn't noticed him at all. You kept gazing at him, taking him in. You felt the anger rise in your body as your nose flared, beginning to think sober up again. You took another swig of your drink and turned away from him, you could practically hear the wheels turning inside his head as he analyzed you right back.

A few moments pass and as you predicted, you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Y/N?"

You met his gaze and it felt so much different from the last time he'd looked at you. He looked... surprised? Is that even the right word? You felt his eyes scan you up and down, the tight dress fitting you perfectly in his mind.

You, too, had changed since the last time he'd saw you. Your hair was slightly shorter and more put together, you looked healthier and more mature. Less like a teenager and more like an adult now, but that's just how aging works, right? Not only did your looks change, but the way you carried yourself.

God, you were sexy. Jack always knew you were beautiful, it was undeniable. But after not seeing you for months now, you looked like a dream ─ a hauntingly beautiful vision that stirred something deep within him. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way you carried yourself, with a newfound confidence and poise that spoke of strength.

He was at a loss of words. But it was Jack, of course he didn't let it show. He plastered on his award-winning smirk and let his gaze fall back on to your face. "I didn't know you were back in Jersey, you shoulda texted."

Your face contorted into surprise. Was he really trying to pretend like nothing happened? Oh, two can play that game. "I was just visiting family." Your red lips turned into a tipsy smile. "But you're right, I should've texted. How have you been?"

"Awesome. Is this seat taken?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, he just pulled out a chair and sat down. He glanced down at your drink, the smirk still very much evident in face.

God, how much you wanted to just smash his face in. But you swallowed the anger with your drink, letting him study you for a few more moments.

"Since when do you drink?" His tone was amused as he watched you swallow the liquid so effortlessly, like it was water.

Since you left, you wanted to shout. "Not until recently."

You watched as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "And what brought about this newfound appreciation for alcohol?" He asked, his tone still but the underlying curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Life." you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Life has a funny way of changing things."

He nodded, as if he understood, but you could see the doubt flickering behind his eyes. He didn't know the half of it, didn't know the pain and the heartache you had endured in his absence. And part of you wanted to keep it that way, wanted to shield him from the truth of how much he had hurt you.

But another part of you, a smaller part buried deep within all the hurt and bitterness, wanted him to know. Wanted him to see the scars he had left on your soul, to feel the weight of the words left unsaid between you. But not to burden him, to somehow reverse all the pain he'd caused you.

"So, what have you been up to?" you asked, deflecting the conversation away from yourself. "Anything exciting?" By anything, you really meant anyone.

You saw the way Jack's smirk faltered as he shook his head. "Nope, nothin' new." But he knew that you knew the real answer.

Two months, it took him two months to move on from a 4 year relationship. "Really?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism. "No new hobbies, no new friends, no new... interests?"

Jack chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer to you, his gaze locking with yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, I might have picked up a few new hobbies," he admitted, his voice low. "But nothing as exciting as running into you here, that's for sure."

Despite yourself, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of your lips at his charming response. He had always had a way with words, a charisma that could disarm even the most guarded of hearts.

"There she is," his voice was soft as he watched the curves of your lips turn upward. "I missed that."

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a mixture of nostalgia and longing swirling within you like a whirlpool. Despite everything that had happened between you, there was still a part of you that missed the comfort of his presence, the familiarity of his smile.

"Well, don't let it get to your head," you teased, although the playful tone of your voice couldn't mask the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. "I wouldn't want you thinking you can charm your way out of everything."

"I'm not trying to, trust me. I can't help it." Jack smirked as he shrugged. "And for the record, I did miss it. I don't remember the last time I've seen your genuine smile."

Your smile faltered as your stomach squeezed in anxiety. The last couple of months of your relationship was spent only arguing, and the smiles had become a rarity, buried beneath layers of resentment and hurt. You swallowed hard, the memories of those final days weighing heavy on your heart like a rock.

"Yeah, well, it's been a while," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to push aside the memories threatening to overwhelm you. "A lot has changed since then."

"I can tell," his eyes scanned your body and you felt your heart jump. He wet his lips as his blue eyes met yours again, a grin playing on his lips. "I remember this dress. You wore it at my draft party, I remember."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, memories of that night flooding back with a rush of emotions. You remembered the excitement in the air, the pride shining in his family's eyes as he celebrated the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.

"Yeah, I remember," you said softly, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "It feels like so long ago."

Jack nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips as he reached across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I never forgot that night," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Or how beautiful you looked in this dress."

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt like the air was knocked out of you at his words. Goddamn him, his smooth-talk, and that damned cologne that made you feel high off of him. "Shut up," was all you could muster as Jack chuckled.

"Let's go take a walk."

And like always, Jack didn't wait for an answer. He just grabbed your hand and began walking toward the exit. Your mind raced as Jack's touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. And despite your inner turmoil and the warning bells ringing in your head, there was a part of you that couldn't resist the pull of his charm, the familiarity of his touch.

You hated how he still had this effect on you and how confident he was, he always made decisions for you. You're not sure if it's really a bad thing, because how can something so bad feel so insanely good?

"Okay," you said softly more to yourself than him, your voice barely above a whisper. You allowed him to lead you away from the dimly lit bar and out into the cool night air.

As you walked side by side, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over you. It was like stepping back in time, back to a simpler era when the world was young and full of promise.

Jack pulled you into his chest as you walked, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders as you leaned into him, seeking solace in his familiar warmth.

Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still longed for the comfort of his embrace, for the reassurance of his presence by your side.

"The dress still fits you so well," Jack finally spoke up. You could feel practically hear the grin on his face as you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging on your lips.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing I haven't outgrown it," you replied, your voice light and teasing as you leaned into his embrace subconsciously.

Jack chuckled, his arm tightening around you. "You'd look in a garbage bag, princess. You can never outgrow anything."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jack." You quipped.

"It's gotten me this fair, huh?" Jack's tone was amused as you felt yourself roll your eyes at his cockiness. He let out a laugh as he squeezed your arms, the way he knew you liked.

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face but instead, you just shook your head at his teasing. He still knew you so well, even after so long. As much as you wanted to resist his charm, there was a small part of you that couldn't help but be swept away by it. Jack had always had a way of getting under your skin, of finding the cracks in your armor and worming his way into your heart.

"You're insufferable," you said, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed the fondness you couldn't quite suppress.

Jack chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious as he leaned in closer to press a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"But you love me anyway," he said, his voice soft as he met your gaze with a knowing smile.

You couldn't deny the truth of his words, no matter how much you wanted to. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still loved him ─ had always loved him. Would you always love him?

You gazed back at him, his grin even bigger as his hand squeezed your arms again. The more you stared, the more you slipped back right where he wanted. Fuck, you were back.

Your hands came up to touch his soft stubble, one of the many new things about him. Something you never thought you'd like, you swore his clean-face was your favorite but he proved you wrong.

"You like it?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky as he watched you trace your fingers along his stubbled jawline. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power he still held over you.

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his gaze, your fingers lingering against his stubble. "It suits you. You look... different, but in a good way."

A smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, his eyes sparkling with gratitude as he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Thank you," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. "I'm glad you think so."

You smiled genuinely, the anger slowly dissipating as you looked into the eyes of the man you'd once loved, wholeheartedly. His face may have changed but his gaze was still the same, the same blue eyes you'd been drawn to from the beginning.

"Let's head back to the car, yeah?" His voice came out hoarse and low, you could hear practically hear the need in his voice. And again, you let him lead you back to his car and eventually, to his home.

Your lips curved into a smirk, you'd had gotten exactly what you'd sought out to do. You'd gotten him back, but who ever doubted you?

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grugruel · 1 day

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Say it Again

Pairings: Cooper Howard x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: For a long time, there'd been a quiet, reciding fondness between you and your companion. And when you finally journey back to your old vault, feelings are stirred from the depths and brought to the surface.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: (mentions of blood, violence, death), angst, pinv sex, passionate sex, strong feelings, "I love you", pet names (darlin', sweetheart, honey), hair pulling (squint and you'll miss it), overstimulation, creampie, praise (both recieving).

AN: Not yet proofread! Let me know what yall think about the music inserts. I figured since its such a big part of the fallout universe, I might aswell ad it in a fic too! Enjoy yall!!

The vault was open. . . It took my mind a few moments to wrap around the idea.

The thought of it being perpetually shut was so hard-wired into my being that I would've thought the gaping door a hallucination had it not been for my own departure a few months prior.

And I knew- I knew it ment nothing good. But perhaps they'd all left–alive, wandering the wasteland in search of better luck–a better life.

♪ Yes, pretending that I'm doing well

A familiar melody rang faint, barely reaching through the howling wind as it sang up a storm of scorching sand, whipping and tearing at my clothes.

In abivalence, I made my way toward the facade. Eyes examining the number 33 written in a bold, weathered font on the hefty external door.

A pang of guilt hit me–maybe I shouldn't have left, maybe I could've prevented whatever happened here. With the inhale of a calming breath, I stepped up to the construction, running the flat of my palm along the beaten but familar metal.

Then, without so much as a single thought of caution, I stepped over the threshold. The safety of a vault- my vault, was too fresh in my mind. That allong with the trust I placed in the hands of my shadow, suspecting his vigilance to be enough for the both of us.

Tracing the cool, grand archway with my fingertips as I entered, feeling the wear of oxidisation on its surface. Such a small detail I'd never payed any mind to before. How aged it was, yet still standing strong. A reminder of its resilience- of its impenetrable metal, planned to withstand outside threats for hundreds of years. And now, there it stood–wide open. The derision of the situation nagged me terribly.

♪ I'm lonely but no one can tell

When no longer veiled by the wind, the song sang clearly, its notes reverberating throughout the metal in a forboding fashion. Setting off a feeling of unease in the pit of my stumache.

While I stood familiarising myself again, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me, observing me. Monitoring my grief-struck and conflict ridden mind with a commiserating gaze. Their constant and reassuring prescence hovering behind me in semblance of a specter, keeping a respectful distance as my mind worked through what might have transpired while I was away.

♪ Oh yes, I'm the great pretender

The volume grew stronger as we made our way inside, my feet moving with slight hesitation as they clanged along the grated flooring.

♪ Adrift in a world of my own ♪

Stepping on the elevator, I steadied myself against the railing, feeling it vibrate beneath my hands with the frequency of the music. Those sweet well-known tunes only growing more and more eerie as we descended, accompanied by that strange constant hum from the bedrock, from the quiet. A white noise that only lived in vast open constructions such as this. Inhabiting the walls, the floor, and open spaces made from metal and stone.

A shiver ran down my spine, I'd never liked the quiet, despite the volume of the music, the quiet resounded. It'd always made to much noise in my mind.

♪ You've seen and you've left me to dream all alone

But when the doors opened to the floor below, a reassuring hand placed itself on the small of my back, amicably giving me a final push when I'd stood too long hesitating.

And it helped, it really did. The eclipsing stillness of the vault and the distorting of the music softened, fading and returning to that of good times–when they'd still existed.

♪ Too real is this feeling of make-believe

But the possibilities of what I might find ahead launched a gruesome assault on my mind. I tried distracting myself–thud, thud, thud. Our dull steps tapped against the floor. A pair of spurs clicking along with the steady rythm, leather groaning. Turns out I could only hear him, and I prefered it that way.

♪ Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal

It was a better focus then the constant searching for bloodsplatter and unmoving bodies, splayed out on the floor or tucked into a corner, seeking shelter, protection–spurs, leather-

I snapped back, the lyrics echoing in my mind and bouncing of the walls simultaneously, resonating throughout the empty halls as I jumped off of that dark train of thought before it could spiral further. The hands scrunched the fabric of my clothes, silently checking on me, attempting to refocus my mind. On the music, on him, anything was better.

♪ Yes, I'm the great pretender

I followed the words, thinking of the ones before and those to come. I still remember the list of songs. They'd played during weddings and social gatherings. We had them in our houses. I remember dancing in the kitchen, with swaying to the music with those I love. It was one of those moments which you knew you'd remeber forever, which would become a core part of you. Always to be looked back on, and sure enough.

I could't help myself from smiling, such fond memories. In my peripheral, his eyes softened. Still keeping his vigilant watch over my well-being, returning my smile with no intention of ever telling me, unkowing that I had indeed noticed him as he did so.

♪ Yes, just laughing and gay like a clown

But now, as I wandered the abandoned halls of the vault, they were only a tragic reminder of a time gone by–yet, I could see no bodies, no evidence of a fight or struggle–relief flooded through me. However, I still didn't dare make my way down to the compost section, I'd walked that path to many times on my last day here.

♪ I seem to be, what I'm not, you see

The hand angainst my back brushed my clothed skin with a thumb, circling a vertebra, moving to squeeze my arm as it then fell back to his side. The loss of his touch was dissapointing, but the closeness of his body made up for it.

We took a turn, away from the chance of decaying bodies and toward the fields of crop. I wanted to see it one last time, remember that last wedding–the good times, before I left and the place had become this, before it was reduced to a graveyard of memories.

♪ And I'm wearing my heart like a crown

I found my eyes wandering as we walked, constantly sliding to the man beside me. An aching arose in my heart, the two of us could've been something real sweet. Something true, something strong. If only we had the freedom of chance and opportunity. But as it were, we simply coexist, solely striving to survive in a world swallowed up by nuclear waste and feral brutality. I don't know what I would've done without him, it was a long road for us to grow this close–we didn't get along too well when we first met.

♪ Oh yes, I'm pretending and praying that you're still around

The music tunes out, fading into quiet nothing, like dust particles leaving rays of light–simply seizing to exist. I felt the comparison too familiar for my liking, turns out anything is just a methapor for something else.

After waiting patiently and biding it's time, that strange hum takes up again. Making me wish he'd hold me steady, a d let the drumming of his heart be the only thing I hear. A wish that frequented my mind a lot as of late.

It's interesting how much you learn about yourself and the world when leaving the safety of your vault. The most ironic thing–radiation, and the fact that its the least to be worried about on the surface, the real danger being what dwells in the midst of it. Creatures–beasts, savages and monsters. The rad mutated animals are nothing compared to the barabarians that the human species have become, I really had no idea what stripping someone of their basic needs and a guaranteed future could do to a person before I entered the wasteland. And now, I cant help but marvel at the fact that only a few have resorted to eating eachother and worshipping radiation.

Dog-eat-dog is an old expression that comes to mind. Apparently it was used way before all of this befell us, and I can't help but imagine how bad we could've been back then to create such a phrase in a law-abiding society. But they were the poeple to destroy the world and we to rebuild it, so perhaps its not that strange after all.

Either way, I don't remember it personally. I wasn't alive back then, but it was told to me by someone who was.

The next song started up, the sorrowful tune keeping the deafening white noise at bay, and as I had predicted the list, it was my favorite to be played.

♪ There's a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles away ♪

The tape, surely damaged–played a slower version than I remembered, but it was all the same to me as I let it envelop me in a veil of comfort before finally laying eyes on what we'd come here for–corn. I felt their green stems beneath my fingers as I walked along the field, it was a miracle they were even alive and surviving whatever hardships they'd encountered. Another metaphor.

There came a rustling behind me, my companion doing the same as I had. A scarred hand reaching out to slide his fingers through the crop, keeping a stunned expression on his face, the corners of his lips curling upward.

♪ And they call it Lonesome Town

Where all the broken hearts stay ♪

It must've been a long time for him since feeling something living like this. Much, much longer than it had for me. And I'd just taken it all for granted.

Keeping our pace, we followed the path through the crops until fianlly, the familiarity of a huge wall welcomed me home.

Surrounding me was a vast sky with millions of stars and endlessly stretching mountains, following a path so distant I could not spot the end, all the while the high moon cast silvery blue light upon the world. A projection of the Nebraskan countryside. I used to stare at it for hours, dreaming myself away to a place that no longer existed. 'Did it really look like this? The world- I mean.' I hatched out of me.

♪ You can buy a dream or two

To last you all through the years ♪

'It sure did.' My companion turned to face me, choosing a lesser view over the pretty one before him. He was a mere arms-length away. 'It could be real beautiful.' He said, his eyes roaming my face.

♪ And the only price you pay

Is a heart full of tears ♪

He was a brute, that is true. He was the outcome of living through literal hell, but he'd fared quite well through it all in my opinion. He had his humanity left, which is more than I can say for the majority of the population. Charming and quick-witted, dangerous and cold. He'd seen who we were and what we had become, it's no wonder he acted the way he did. But it was all the same to me, he was strong and handsome, he could even by kind-hearted at times, and I loved him through it all.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

The implication made me blush, and shy away from his eager eyes while I averted my own, leading them back to the contryside. 'I wish I could've seen it.' I tried to focus, studying the sight meticulously, jotting down every detail in my mind. I hadn't had time the last time I was here- not to dwell. Too late now it seemed, the memory resurfacing with a passion as my eyes drifted over the scorching cloud in the sky, burned into the irreplaceable film. My lips drew into a thin line as I swallowed, it was reality, it was life. But it didn't stop my stumache from churning, the stench of wet metal revisiting my nose.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

A scarred hand reached up to brush strands of hair from my face, again, distracting me mercifully. Rough knuckles gently sliding over my cheek and the neighing of my jaw. 'I wish you could too.' He grasped my chin between this thumb and index finger, tilting my face upwards, our gazes meeting eachother.

♪ In a Town of broken dreams

The streets are filled with regret ♪

I leaned into his touch, for it was rare. Rare that he allowed himself simple pleasures such as touching me, even though I would willingly give myself to him at a moments whim. 'I love you.' I whispered. 'Please, please let me.'

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I can learn to forget ♪

The music glitched, the sound warping spookily as the needle scratched and jumped the groves in the needle. Shutting off for a second and then coming back on, restarting the song.

He shook his head, eyes uncharacteristically soft as met mine. Uncharacteristic to anyone but me. 'I can't feel ya', sweetheart.' He reclaimed his hand and took a step back, squeezing it into a fist, frustration shaking it as he cursed himself. The music tuned out, and all I see was the blue light contrasting his red-burnt skin, enforcing its texture as shadows settled in the contours and the pale silver on his high points. All I could hear were his words, the frustration and insufficiencies hinding in his tone, mirroring my own. 'Can't feel your fuckin' softness, cant feel your skin.'

'You can–' I followed his movement, gaining on the distance he'd created between us. '–it might not be ideal, but it's us.' I slid my fingers along his clothed arm, grabbing his coarse hand.

'I'm here, not perfect, and that's what you can feel. Imperfection. . . It's something that belongs to us.' I gave him a faint smile, doing my best to reassure him. To truly make him understand.

'I dont deserve you.' He leaned his forehead against mine, his cowboy hat sliding up his head as he did so.

It was my turn to shake my head now. 'Oh, but if you only knew what you desvered.' My voice broke, eyes watering. 'The world, coop. You've been through so much, you survived the bombs dropping for fucks sake, and the following 200 years after that. What you did during those years was for your own survival, please do not ever feel bad about any of it.' The silence that ensued became too long, too deafening. 'I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so beautiful in your own right.' A tear fell down my cheek.

'I dont feel bad 'bout it sweetheart, thats the problem. I aint any of that, 'm a selfish killer. There's nothin' left of who I were–the good part. . .' his hand slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps to emphasize. '. . .what little good there was, it died a long time ago.' His drawl thick as he spoke, kissing my forehead. 'You can do better, 'n I cant allow those precious years of yours to go to waste on somethin' like me.' He wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head, cradeling it to his chest as he pulled me close, resting his chin on top of my head. The wetness of my cheeks transfering to his shirt. 'Don't cry, sweetheart. Dont cry 'cause of me.' He kissed my forehead again, working his way downward–cheekbone, jaw and finally–my lips.

His hands slid down the outline of my body, shoulders and ribs, then settled on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss in the same motion.

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I allowed him to kiss me for too long, I allowed him to believe his own words for too long. I pulled free, tearing away to breathe, to lock my eyes on his. 'I dont want who you were, dont you understand?' I cup his face, truly feeling him beneath my fingers, and loving every bump and dent. 'I want who you are now, scars and all. It's not for you to allow me anything. Get that in your head.' My voice had gone harsh, and even though he needed to hear it with all the conviction I muster, I added 'Please. . .' As softly as I could.

♪ I can learn to forget

The last notes of the song died out.

He shook his head as a small, breathless, humorless chuckle erupted from his lips. '. . .I love you too. . .'

♪ Only you

The next song started, the voice vibrating through his bones. A song he'd danced to when it was first released, twirling a life that no longer existed in his arms. He closed his eyes, humming along to the tune as he embraced the memory, arms wrapping tightly around its waist, hugging it lovingly one last time. Then let go.

♪ Can do, make this world seem right

He mouthed the words as he opened his eyes, finding her sweet face looking up at him, his pretty girl. It'd taken him more than he wished to admit, to say those three words. How such meak and fruitless words had cause him so much turmoil, he didn't know.

♪ Only you

Because when he looked at her now–stars projecting in her glimmering eyes, the wetness of tears remaining on her cheeks, anf with the backdrop of a countryside from a bygona era–the prevailing feeling was grief, a mourning over the precious time wasted, time he could've spent in admitant love with her. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. Things he just hadn't allowed himself to concede to, to fall slave under it. To truly feel it from the bottom of his heart–instead, reciding in the pit of it, in some dark, tucked away corner, was the feeling of being lesser and undeserving of her softness, her own kind heart.

♪ Can do, make the darkness bright

'Come.' She said, a faint smile on her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Away from the corn, away from Nebraska. He followed her willingly, blindly trusting her as she pulled him to wherever. He didn't care, as long as he was with her.

♪ Only you and you alone

The music grew fainter, devolving into a sweet hum, a lullig as the distance of the speakers tossed the sound boucing after them, echoing along the vaults longevous walls while they moved through them.

He turned her hand over as they walked, observing it quietly as he rubbed gentle circles into the plush skin of her hand, admiring what softness he could feel, his distorted hands dulling the sense unbareably.

♪ Can thrill me like you do

But it didnt matter in the end. Imperfection is what she'd said, and it belonged to them. His heart ached, eyes drifting over the small form leading him. The way her hair swayed and body moved, he could feel himself harden. Guilting himself. It was love for a woman, a family, that had once driven him to survive- with that life now long gone, it was that beautiful girl infrontnof him that kept him going.

♪ And fill my heart with only love for you

They passed several doors with accompanying mailboxes, until she slowed and halted her steps so suddenly, she almost collided with his chest. Her form stood frozen, contemplating, just as she'd done when they first entered the vault.

A scorched finger rose up to stroke her cheek. 'You alright, sweetheart?'

♪ Oh, only you

'Mhm. . .' She hummed. 'One moment.' And whipped around to face him, opening his saddlebag to rummage through it.

Unsuspectingly, a blush crept it's way up her cheeks, seemingly caused by the intent gaze he focused so tightly on her.

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

They'd just kissed, professed their love. Yet, it was his closeness, his warm breath against her that made her blush. He'd never want to be anywhere else. His gaze wandered, studying the home they stood infront of. Eyes landing on a mailbox, he read the full name aloud with a loving smile on his lips.

'I like the way it sounds when you say it.' She whispered, a coy smile on her lips. Suddenly- her eyes widened, finding what she'd been looking for, she pulled the object out of the bag, holding it up for him to see. An old pipboy.

"Welcome" it read, and as she turned one of the kogs, the door to the house opened.

♪ For its true

It was exactly the way I remembered it, not a detail out of place–rather an added layer of dust coating every surface of the place.

I ran a finger along the top of my scratched desk, gathering a pillow of dust on top of it. And then I saw it, standing lonely and abandoned–my old radio. Glee filled me as I turned it on, reflecting the song that was already playing outside. Filling my little house with soft waves of sweet tunes, all thr while weighing my heart terribly. Strong nostalgia splitting me in two. 'I used to love dancing.' The words left my lips in a soft murmur. 'Some of my favorite memories are from this kitchen, and now. . .' My voice broke. Inspected the dust and rubbed it between my fingers, observing how it crumbled to the floor. Perhaps another meatphor–how I myself am responsible for my old life crumbling.

♪ You are my destiny

A pair of hands found my waist, a chin coming to rest on my shoulder. He pulled me close, my back thudding against a strong chest. 'Its alright. . .' He breathed against my neck. 'We can make new ones.' Kissing my skin softly as he began moving with the music.

♪ When you hold my hand

My lips curled into a smile as I declined my head against his chest, snaking my hand behind his neck as the other fell on top of his hand, squeezing it with gratefulness. 'Thank you.' I whispered.

♪ I understand the magic that you do

He twirled me around, luring a giggle to erupt. He caught and pulled me close again, this time face to face. His eyes were still so clear, such a stark contrast to his muddled skin.

♪ You're my dream come true

The lyrics seemed to speak for us as my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my thumbs brushing his jaw. While his hands squeezed my sides, exhaling a long breath as we swayed, his eyes intently searching mine. 'I love you, sweetheart.'

♪ My dream come true

Without hesitation, my lips met his. 'Then prove it to me Coop. . .' Coyness tugged on my lips, my hands sliding to the buttons of his vest, '. . . Let me feel it.'

♪ Oh-oh, only you

He grinned against my lips. 'Anyhtin' for my girl.' And his hands wrapped around mine, helping them unbutton his clothes, skiding them off of him. Barechested as he was, he twirled me again. Back to chest, he whispered in my ear, 'Your turn, darlin'.'

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

Gladly, with my hands still guided by his touch, I brushed them along my torso, undoing every button of my shirt as I did so and slid it off my shoulders, my bra coming off next. He cupped them eagerly, a groan leaving his lips as he massaged them. Ingiting a pulse deep in my uterus. The music seemed to tune out off my mind, selective hearing I suppose.

Moaning in response, I could feel him harden as he pressed his hips into my ass. 'Need to feel it.'

'Undress.' Was all he said, removing his own clothes as I did mine.

A short moment later, he had my back pinned against a wall and my legs wrapped around his hips as he held me up with a firm arm around my waist–the other busy lining himself up with my core.

Suddenly- he pushed inside, leaving me as a whimpering mess. 'Good girl, sweetheart. . .' He whispered, doing nothing to ease the aching matter. '. . .sound so pretty for me.'

And without warning, he pulled out, and thrusted back into me again with full force. 'Mmh- Fuck!' I cried out. But his lips were on mine before I could fully register how big he was. Again and again, he trusted right into my core. His tongue fighting for control as it battled my own. My body was aching with a burning want for him, a need so strong I already felt myself closing in on my orgasm. '. . .'M gonna cum, Coop. Slow down, p- please. I stuttered the words, strained breaths dividing the sentence.

'Its ok sweetheart, you're doin' so well.' He reassured me, then took my words as a direct command and pushed us off the wall, walked over to the bed and threw us onto it with a cloud of dust kicking up around us.

Obiding my request, he backed up, hooked my legs over his shoulders and re-entered me with a shuddering moan. The feeling of my core effecting him as badly as his member effected me. With one hand burried in my hair, the other palmed a breast while his lips found my neck, gently taking my skin between his teeth as he pushed so deep inside me I almost screamed, but managed to bite my lip to keep quiet. That's when I felt him shake his head against me. 'Don't go all quiet, let me hear ya', honey.'

And so I did, releasing a string of curses disguised as moans while I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing kisses on his cheek while nuzzling my face against him. But I felt that blinding pressure building again, slower this time, but with an unrelenting force.

His warm breaths against my neck accompanied by the feeling of him inside me and the slick sound we created had my head swimming. It was too much, too fast. But this time, I wanted it. '. . .'M close Coop.' I whimpered.

'Me too, honey. Real fuckin' close.' He panted, voiced muffled as he kissed and sucked at my neck, hands fisting my hair and squeezing my breast. His thrusts began faltering as we both approached climax. 'Fuck, feel so good.' He cursed, groaning the words in my ear as our bodies rocked together, moving in sync. I was aflame, the pulsing in my body acting the accessory to his own members pulsing inside me. My eyes screwed shut, he felt so fucking good it was a simple reflex.

He kissed his way along my throat, pulling on my hair to angle my jaw for him, his lips trailing along it's sharps points, then up my cheek, settling in my lips. 'Look at me.' He breathed.

I wanted to listen to him, but my eyes did not. The pleasure was to much, the wall inside me so near collapsing-

'Look at me, sweetheart.' He ordered again, his voice sharper this time.

Having no other option I forced myself to open them. But it was worth it, listening to Cooper always was.

'Good girl.' He praised, his lips colliding with mine. And that wall burst, his words being the final battering ram. Tidal waves of pleasure rolled through me, roiling like crashing waves inside me. 'Love you, sweetheart.' He moaned.

No words would ever spur me on like those ones did, my uterus was quaking with every act of him. 'Say it again.' I pleaded.

'I love you' he whimpered. . . Whimpered. Strong and dangerous as he was, he whimpered as he came inside me. His rocking thrust strained as he continuing rutting into me, doing his best to lead us through our orgasms.

'Good boy, Coop. Again. . . Please.' I begged.

And he listened, repeating the words "I love you" against my lips, his voice pitching and breaking from the sheer pleasure he was submitted to. And when moving to softly nip at my ear, he whimpered those same three words in my ear over and over again until I felt a wetness on my cheeks–tears, I realised. He was overstimulating himself, crying as he made love to me. 'Fuck-' he shuddered the word, the slickness he'd created only coaxing more sounds out of him. 'Love you real fuckin' hard, darlin'. . .' He cried again. And I could've reached a second orgasm from that alone.

'I love you too Coop, love you so much. Youre so good to me.' I reassured him, my own voice near a cry as he was putting me through the ringer in the process. Finally, he began slowing down, his entire body shuddering from the way my insides clenched around him, milking the juies out of him. He kissed me one final time, then pulled out and collapsed beside me.

I had to take a moment to collect myself before turning to face him, my hand reaching up to brush the wetness from his cheeks.

His eyes met mine, both full of unconditional love. We laid like that for some time, loosing ourselves in eachothers gazes as we regarded one another in silent contemplation. All the while I could feel his seed leaking out of my core. 'You're a good man, Cooper Howard.' I whispered.

'I do what I can to deserve ya', sweetheart. The day I'm anythin' else but good to you-' He began. But I stopped him, not wanting his thoughts to walk down that road.

'You'll never be anything but good, Coop.' I inclined my head, kissing him softly before I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. 'Don't forget it.' My voice a murmur against his strong neck as I slowly drifted off to sleep within the safety of his embrace.

♪ We'll meet again

Hand in hand, our gazes stay on the halls infront of us as we walk back the way we came.

♪ Don't know where, don't know when

My eyes were on the sand as we left, attempting to distract myself by studying the way the the kernels dent beneath my weight. But with a deep breath, I stop and raise my pip-boy clad arm, looking back toward the falling night, toward the empty timecapsule.

♪ But I know We'll meet some sunny day

The words once again faint as they stab through the howling wind. I turn a kog on the pip-boy, and the vault door rolls into motion. The world around us painted in red-pinkish hues as the door's mechanics shut in the echoing vocals completley, the entrance closing with a heavy, reverberating grating sound.

I can feel my heart thudding hard, beating with a sadness and re found happiness. Revisiting my old home had given me melancholy and a new love. 'You coming?' The voice was soft, considering–unwilling to leave my mind wandering through old, lonely thoughts.

'Let's go.' I murmured, my eyes still on the weathered number 33 as the wind whipped at my cheeks.

'Look at me, sweetheart.' my love drawled, gathering my attention, and I redirect my gaze to his. 'We'll come back.'

I nod. 'We will.' A faint smile make its way to my lips as I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips.

Then, with his hand in mine, we wandered the wasteland. Searching for better luck–a better life.

#fallout #fallout imagine #fallout smut #fallout fanfic #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard fanfic #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul smut #fallout x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul imagine

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deepestnightcolor · 3 days

Note

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x afab!reader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay.

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?”

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look.

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?”

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?”

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds.

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further.

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #fanfic #smut #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #harvey x farmer

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itneverendshere · 2 days

Text

my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺

warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him

you did it without thinking.

it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.

rafe.

the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.

you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.

but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.

except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again.

your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?

and if he isn’t?

there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already.

you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.

you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.

holy fuck.

your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.

what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago.

for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.

should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.

“i can hear you breathing.”

panic sets in.

summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there.

you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”

his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones.

“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”

you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?

“i didn’t run?”

his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”

the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?

“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“

“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.

you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.

“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”

his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.

“hey, sweetheart, this is me.” his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”

but he’s not your rafe anymore.

that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him.

a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.

"yeah..."

rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”

if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.

you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view.

you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.

"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“

rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal.

"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”

“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“

his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”

tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."

“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.

“it was! i’m a shitty person.”

his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”

“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”

the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.

he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.”

rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”

without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.

“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”

“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”

you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.

“i have a date.”

a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations.

rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”

but you only sob harder.

"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”

but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe.

"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”

but you are. at you. at him.

the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.

you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.

"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"

it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.

rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”

“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”

his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.

"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed.

you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.

"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."

but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.

"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."

you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them.

it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing.

“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”

it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.

and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.

“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”

for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say.

and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.

“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”

his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.

and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fluff #rafe angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe cameron

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mikichko · 3 days

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little bit personal but i’ve gone through lots of weight fluctuations in my life and no matter what size i am, summer is always hard for me.

which is why i cannot stop thinking about being ghost’s partner through summer.

we already know that he’s a man of few words, prefers to observe more than anything. so he really doesn’t miss the meticulous way that you plan out your outfits.

shorts have to be a certain length, shirts have to be at least long enough to hit your hips and sleeves long that are up to mid bicep. hell, he’s even seem you choose to wear pants all summer instead of even attempting shorts. too anxious over how you’ll be perceived to let yourself enjoy a nice warm breeze on your legs.

he asks you once if you’re warm, approaching the conversation the best way he knows how, only to have you laugh and tell him that the pants just hold you better. don’t need to give people a reason to comment on your appearance. he nods and you seem happy that he’s happy with your response.

but he’s not. listen, simon’s not really one to jump to defend someone’s ego from being bruised. god knows the team rags on johnny too often for him to pretend otherwise. but this? nah, this is different.

he’s all too familiar with the way bodies react and absorb the shock and trauma of war. has seen soldiers of all shapes, sizes, identities tank hits like no one’s business. there’s absolutely nothing he despises more than for the untrained, ill informed cretins offering opinions on someone else’s body. specially if it’s ever directed at you.

he’ll never say this though. at least not outloud. though, his actions do speak for themselves.

small pats on your hips as he passes by you. wrapping his arm around your lower belly instead of your waist, you try to swat at him but he just pulls you back into him. insisting that he lays on you when you’re stretched on the couch, dropping kisses on your clothed belly while his hands draw patterns on your plush thighs. if he’s feeling cheeky he’ll sink his teeth into them just to get a little squeal out of you.

even in public he doesn’t ease up. pulls you into his lap in front of your friends, knows you love it despite your protests. lounging out on a patch of grass along the walking trail, he pulls you closer to him and has one of your legs draped over his. massaging the fat there as you chatter about nonsense.

idk simon riley just really loves you and loves the body that keeps you alive and feeds your personality.

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vivwritescrappythings · 2 days

Text

Silence

eddie munson x reader

the five times you asked eddie to be quiet (and the one time he was)

tw: ANGST, but also fluff?, hurt no comfort, blood, death, trauma, reader is gender neutral (i think), kissing, alcohol, mentions of drug use, reader is shorter than eddie.

wc: 8.5k

masterlist

—

The first time you discovered that Eddie Munson was an unstoppable force of nature all bottled into the lanky body of a nineteen-year-old boy, it was at work.

The Hawkins Library was not frequently visited on Friday evenings, your shift often filled with the sound of you restocking books on shelves and the squeaky wheel of the cart you pushed around. So you instantly noticed the loud, raucous voice interrupting the calm evening like a knife through butter.

It fired you up, your brow furrowing as you abandoned the cart of returned books to discover the source of the noise. There were a few people lingering in the plush chairs scattered through the atrium that looked up at you as you stormed past, the jingle of the keys around your neck punctuating your steps.

You were young to be working at the library, you were the only person there who was under the age of forty, let alone just nineteen. You liked books, didn’t mind a quiet workplace, and the Hawkins Library had an opening that you managed to squeeze into. There weren’t any other plans in your future, so you figured the library wasn’t a horrible place to end up.

It wasn’t hard to recognize Eddie Munson. He still wore his denim vest over his leather jacket, the patches haphazardly sewn on in uneven stitches. He made it during your senior year of high school… well, his first senior year of high school. You thought he was on his second round, at least that was what you’d heard from Nancy. The frizzy, curly hair on his head was the same, but he had it pulled into a loose bun at the nape of his neck. Hellfire club was seated at a table, the actual boys having changed but they still wore the same shirts.

“Roll for initiative!” Eddie’s voice had a theatrical fullness to it. There was an authenticity to him that you envied.

“You can’t shout like that in here,” you barked in your best attempt at an authoritative tone, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood behind Eddie. You said it a bit louder than was acceptable, wanting to make sure you were heard over the clatter on dice on the wooden table.

He looked like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar when he turned to look at you, a kiss-ass smile on his face.

“You need to quiet down,” you said, looking at the minions before their ringleader. The boys shied away from your gaze, looking down at the hands and the hand-drawn map in front of them. Eddie, their fearless leader, approached you and took the full heat of your stare.

“Aw c’mon,” Eddie softly whined, clutching his hands to his chest as he started to plead with you. You noticed that his eyes were puppy-dog brown as his lip jutted out far enough to cast a shadow from the overhead lighting.

You scoffed slightly, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the drama room, Munson?”

Hellfire had taken a residency there your sophomore year of high school, meeting every Friday night to play Dungeons and Dragons. Eddie had even gotten himself a throne, the self-declared king of the misfits.

“They’re repainting it and threw us out,” he finally sighed, stopping his approach when he was just a foot away from you. “Please, take us strays in. We’re cold… winter’s here…” His voice trailed off pathetically as Eddie pretended to crumble to his knees in front of you.

You managed to stay stoic for a few moments, your arms still folded over your chest in disapproval as one of your eyebrows ticked up. Eddie had always been talented at making a spectacle of himself.

He finally broke you, pretending to sob as he lightly tugged on your cardigan. His little whimper for your mercy made you roll your eyes despite the fact that you cracked a smile. A soft laugh huffed from your nostrils, making you shake your head.

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he would get up sooner rather than later. “But you owe me.”

He clambered to his feet, adjusting his vest and leather jacket as he flashed you a sincere, boyish smile. Your heart stuttered at the sight of it. His pink lips briefly shut, his tongue pressing into his cheek as he looked you up and down. “How about I make it up to you with dinner? Maybe tomorrow?”

Your cheeks heated up as you slid from bossy to bashful. “Dinner? Um, sure,” you murmured, your fingers reaching up to press at the nape of your neck as a small smile formed on your face. You’d never considered dating Eddie, but as soon as he offered you found yourself readily agreeing.

The Hellfire boys giggled amongst themselves and elbowed one another. The sound of their chuckles reminded you that you were at work, making you draw yourself up once more.

“But keep it down!” you reminded him sharply, some of your composure returning as you started to turn away from Eddie and his retinue.

“Of course we will,” he said in an exaggerated whisper, winking as he placed a finger against his lips. You knew it was a complete lie, even as he crossed his fingers over his heart and jostled the buttons pinned to his breast pocket. After a moment you nodded, leaving the group to themselves as you made your way back to your cart of books.

As soon as you rounded the corner you heard what you came to recognize as Eddie’s Dungeon Master voice booming out across the library.

ii.

It was only your third date when you’d learned that Eddie was thoughtful: an evening spent walking around the new shopping mall completed with seeing a movie in the attached theater.

You didn’t think your dinner would end so well, ending up with you two talking late into the night before you’d parted ways. You found yourself calling him to ask him for a second date, having to leave an awkward message with his uncle.

The second was even better, the two of you watching movies you’d rented from Family Video on your thrift store couch in your too-small apartment. What started with awkward smiles each time your hands touched or knees bumped morphed into Eddie clumsily pressing a kiss to your lips in the blue-tinted darkness.

He started this date with a kiss, curling an arm around your waist as you walked up to his van and pulling you in for a quick stamp of his lips on yours. It was so easy, it felt like you’d been kissing for months rather than the first time a few days prior. You melted into it, finding yourself a bit lightheaded as he opened the door for you and ushered you into the passenger seat.

Walking around the mall included his fingers wrapping around yours, splitting a milkshake in the food court, and a long excursion to the arcade.

You were amazed with just how boisterous he was. Eddie was so expressive, moving your hand with his as he talked about his band and his hopes to someday leave Hawkins. You listened like a disciple, wide-eyed and enamored. Life exuded from his every movement, a broad smile on his face as he jumped up to walk on the rim of one of the planters.

But he surprised you by actually steering the conversation your way, making you go into Waldenbooks to listen to you talk about your favorite books and Tape World so you could pick out your favorite songs. You didn’t know until later that he had gone back the next day to buy everything you’d picked up so he could surprise you–that’s how smitten he was.

You told him about how you liked the library but wanted to feel like you were really doing something with your life. He listened as you rambled, his eyes taking in the way you smiled and looked around when you talked and how you swung your intertwined hands even more aggressively to make your points.

He told you later that it was that moment he knew he was in love.

But, nevertheless, you two found your way to the movie theater and sat down in the back of one to watch The Breakfast Club with a blue raspberry ICEE shoved into the cupholder between the two of you. Eddie had only asked the boy at the snack counter for one straw, forcing you to share it.

He talked through every movie trailer, his sarcastic commentary making you laugh under your breath as the two of you looked at one another like co-conspirators. Eddie went out of his way to ask which ones you wanted to go see when they came out. He planned outings with you in barely-hushed whispers, already asking if you liked midnight premieres or Tuesday afternoon movies and if you liked to sit in the middle or the back of the theater.

Midnight premiers. The back of the theater.

Eddie made sure you never missed a movie you’d been talking about, showing up at your apartment at half an hour to midnight to whisk you away to the Starcourt Cinema. He always made sure you sat in the back, once even making some kids he knew from Hellfire club move out of the way so you two could have a seat. You saw so many movies that you could hardly keep track of them.

But this one was special because it was the first. When the lights went dark he didn’t change his volume, his hot chocolate eyes focusing on you like you were the only person in the world.

“Eddie, the movie’s starting,” you whispered, nodding your chin toward the screen as you leaned toward him. You reached around the cup to hold his hand, the cool condensation clinging to the outside of it smearing along your forearm as your temple nudged his shoulder. “You gotta be quiet.”

“Hmm?” He turned to look at the screen, letting out a soft ‘oh’ as he squeezed your hand once.

It only took him a moment to talk again. “Detention s’not like that, you know,” he informed you, his voice still well above a whisper.

iii.

It was early for a Monday when Eddie had imprinted himself on your heart like the tattoo on your hip.

It was your day off and Eddie’s as he hadn’t started school quite yet. He was still asleep, probably sprawling out on your bed like an overgrown starfish and snoring into the pillow on your side of the bed. You’d discovered that you were the early bird of your pair, you often rose well before Eddie was ready to be cognizant. You held your breath and tiptoed while getting out of bed to brew coffee and watch television with the volume turned down low.

You were clad in his Iron Maiden shirt, having staked your claim on it when you started keeping it in your dresser drawers. It was the tail-end of the dog days of summer, loose sleep shorts on your legs as you sat in front of a fan you’d set up in your living room. Eddie was hogging the one in your bedroom, conveniently setting it up on his side of the bed.

Your coffee had long gone lukewarm, the unforgiving August sun stretching in your living room through the curtains as you sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. The television provided white noise, some game show playing while you idly sketched on the notepad in front of you.

It was a monster for Eddie’s campaign, he’d been describing it all night and you couldn’t get it out of your head. You didn’t consider yourself much of an artist, but Eddie always praised you like you were Picasso reincarnate. You drew his monsters all the time, he kept the loose pieces of paper tucked away in the beaten-up notebook he always carried around.

The groan of your air conditioner ruined your perfect morning, the machine finally giving out like it had been threatening to for the past few weeks. Cool air stopped trickling through the vent in your kitchen as you fished a partially burnt piece of toast from the toaster.

“Fucking of course,” you sighed, dropping the toast on the chipped Snoopy plate you refused to get rid of. The motions of buttering the bread and spreading jam kept your hands occupied, your bare foot tapping against the tile as you wondered who to call to fix it. You had the landlord’s phone number written somewhere, rifling through your mental checklist of places it could be.

Eddie emerged from your bedroom as you’re rifling through your junk drawer, emptying the contents onto the kitchen counter. What possessed you to keep all this crap? There were too many odds and ends to count, loose batteries and bobbins of thread and scraps of paper and a spring rolling across the ivory tiles.

“What’s got you in crazy tornado mode this early in the morning?” Eddie asked, approaching with slow, groggy steps as he rubbed his eyes. He stood behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist and his chin on your shoulder.

“Air conditioner broke.” You jolted when you found the crumpled slip of paper where you’d scrawled the phone number, holding it up like treasure you’d dug out of the ground.

Eddie chuckled, letting you go with a kiss to your temple before he disappeared into the bathroom. Your gaze followed him as he did, noting that he’d taken his shirt off at some point. The swirling black lines of his tattoos were on full display as you dialed the number, twisting the phone cord around your finger.

Seeing Eddie without all his garb felt like a special privilege. The first time he slept over he’d stripped to just red checkered boxers and his socks, letting you stare wide-eyed at the tattoos that littered his skin. The two of you had stayed up talking about them until the sun was rising, Eddie’s cheeks tinted pink every time you reached out to trace the designs.

You particularly loved the wonky stick and poke tattoo he’d given himself above his left knee, big block letters that said DUNGEON MASTER but were slightly wobbly. He was embarrassed when you’d asked him to give you one.

There were no tattoos on your skin when Eddie had you lay down on the floor of his room in the trailer, kneeling over you with a needle shoved in the end of a pencil eraser. You noticed he stuck out his tongue when he concentrated, worried about messing up the placement of the lines. It stung, the first poke making you squirm and forcing him to smooth a big hand on your stomach to keep you still.

You traced the shape of the healed star tattooed just above the waistband of your shorts as you leaned against the wall near your phone, some of the lines were a little crooked but you didn’t care.

“Mr. Frask’s Office.” The shrill voice brought your attention back. Mr. Frask was one of the biggest landlords in Hawkins, some rich investor from Indiana who owned a bunch of buildings they constructed near the outskirts of town.

“Hi, um, my air conditioner broke down and I need someone to come out here and fix it,” you said, turning so your back was to the bathroom door as you twisted the spiral phone cord up and down your index finger. There was a crackle of static on the other end of the line, you could hear the woman shifting around papers on her desk.

She asked you which complex you lived in, making you stretch the phone cord as far as it could go as you leaned toward the big window in your living room. “Um, Appletree West?” It sounded like more of a question than an answer despite the fact that you were staring at the wooden sign at the entrance of the parking lot.

You hardly could process what was happening before your instincts had you moving. A cold, wet press to the nape of your neck made you yelp straight into the receiver as you twisted away from it. Drops rolled down your spine, the cool water making your skin erupt in goosebumps.

Eddie snickered behind you, letting the ice cube he was holding slide down the back of your shirt. You made a strangled noise, completely forgetting about the phone as you yanked your shirt with your free hand and let the ice cube fall to the carpet.

“Are you okay?” The voice on the phone was quiet, fighting over the short distance to your ear as the woman reminded you of her presence.

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie. “Yeah, sorry about that. There’s some crazy guy running around outside, caught me by surprise,” you said, shooting Eddie a glare over your shoulder. He grinned wide, dimples showing as you rolled your eyes.

You smothered the receiver with your palm. “Eddie, I’m on the phone,” you hissed, scolding him as you returned to where the phone hook was on the wall.

He followed amiably like a puppy, standing right behind you as you turned away from him in an attempt to hide your smile. Lanky arms curled around your waist, nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. His fingertips drummed a beat against your abdomen.

“What unit number?” the woman asked, sounding bored.

“Unit 1-12.” Eddie licked a long, wet stripe up the side of your throat, his warm tongue pressed flat and wide against your skin. You made a strangled sound, his arms keeping you from squirming away as you pushed his head away with your free hand.

“Ask if they can make your upstairs neighbor stop fucking that lady so loud,” he whispered in your ear, making it hard to concentrate on what the woman on the phone was asking. Your upstairs neighbors had been going at it pretty loud as of late, their yowls making them sound more like crappy pornstars than an actual couple.

You covered the microphone with your hand, turning to glare. “Eddie, I’m on the phone. Can you please be quiet?”

He smirked, loving to get a rise out of you. “You never pay attention to me.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to wrap up the phone call as soon as possible as Eddie continued to mutter nonsense into your ear. The property manager would be coming by in a few hours, the woman rattling off information that prompted you to hum and nod as though you were in the room with her.

Eddie’s hands started to snake beneath the hem of the shirt you wore, his calloused fingertips snapping the waistband of your underwear lightly. He pressed wet, noisy kisses down your throat and beneath the spot on your ear that made you shiver.

“Thank you!” you squeaked into the phone, a blush creeping up on your face. You hung up before the woman had time to respond.

You turned in Eddie’s embrace, his shit-eating grin was wide as he backed you up until you were trapped against the wall. “You are incorrigible, Edward Munson,” you scolded, lips scrunching to one side and nose wrinkling in an attempt to hide the smile on your face.

He snickered, his chocolate brown gaze taking in your expression before he leaned down to worm his way into a kiss. It was quick and chaste, when he pulled away you found yourself following his lips as though an invisible string connected you. He tasted minty like your toothpaste. “I love when you talk librarian to me,” he murmured, a huff of a laugh breathing over you.

“Library assistant,” you corrected, tracing the spider tattoo just beneath his left collarbone.

It was already starting to get warm in your apartment, soon the two of you would be too hot to even talk to one another if the air conditioning didn’t get fixed.

He hummed his understanding, nodding. “Library assistant, that’s wicked hot.”

iv.

New Year’s Eve was when Eddie had promised you a future.

The party was a whirlwind.

Hawkins parties tended to be on the stranger side, especially during the holidays. No one had anything better to do, and everyone was back home with their parents for the break. The annual New Year’s Eve house party was an amalgamation of high school and college students crammed into an unsuspecting family’s home. The family of 1985 was the Perkins family, their respectable home in one of the more spacious neighborhoods. Apparently Carol’s parents had gone out of town to celebrate, letting her and her younger sister have run of the place.

Eddie forced you to come along, he had spent the past day rolling joints to sell at a ridiculous markup and didn’t want to go alone. You’d wanted to have a night at home, maybe invite some of your friends over for something small. But he begged, using his sweet puppy-dog eyes against you until your resolve crumbled. Ever the dutiful girlfriend, you went with him under the stipulation that he had to drive.

The music was loud inside the house, the lights were dim and people were everywhere you looked. Eddie had melded into a corner, his metal lunch box at his side. You could feel his gaze on you across the room as you talked with some of your friends, giggling over red solo cups filled with drinks that were too strong.

You’d found your way back to Eddie nearly every ten minutes, his gaze on your spine pulling you over to him like a moth to a flame. It didn’t matter if he was in the middle of a deal, you always clambered onto the couch next to him and nuzzled in close.

It was getting late when you’d flopped onto the couch that time. “Hi Ed,” you whispered into his ear, your voice getting a bit wobbly as the tipsiness settled into your bones. Your drink swirled dangerously in the cup, making Eddie confiscate it with a chuckle and set it on the end table next to him. He pocketed the cash, the teenager scurrying away with a newly purchased joint between their fingers.

Eddie turned to look at you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as his arm curled around your back. “Hey, how you feeling?” he asked, his voice low as he gently knocked his forehead against yours. You practically beamed under his affection.

Your friends were watching, smiling to one another as they watched Eddie smooth a piece of hair behind your ear. The whole conversation that evening had been focused on how good he was for you, and how you seemed to blossom in a way they had never seen with your previous relationships. Despite his rough exterior, Eddie was the sweetest person you’d ever met: empathetic and kind and boisterous. You’d never been with anyone like him.

“M’good, just missed you,” you mumbled, your fingertips tracing along the borders of the patches on his vest. It was close to midnight, the two of you just a little over ten minutes away from 1986. The energy in the party was already starting to buzz, more and more attention focused on wristwatches and the clocks on the walls.

He grinned, his free hand pulling a strand of his curly hair over his mouth as he started to look bashful. “Yeah? I’ve been right here the whole time, no reason to miss me,” he said, making you roll your eyes.

Another teen approached, making Eddie wave them away with a flick of his hand as he stood. You moved with him, your fingers twined together as he tucked his lunch box under his arm and started to weave through the crowd. “Just wanna spend time with me and you,” he said as he brought you up a flight of stairs off the living room.

You agreed, nodding as he started opening doors in the long upstairs hallway. Bedrooms were full, most of the doors locked or really should have been locked. A fit of giggles erupted from the two of you when you opened a door to see a tangle of limbs on the bed, an embarrassed yelp from the pair and profuse apologies spilling from your lips as you slammed the door shut.

“Maybe I should just start doing that to you out here in the hall,” Eddie suggested, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he cornered you against the wall. He set the lunch box at his feet.

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, your hands finding his biceps as you stretched up to kiss him. His lips were soft as always, your tongue darting out to taste him. Cigarettes and beer and your strawberry flavored chapstick he kept in his pocket just in case you asked for it.

His hands found your waist, smoothing to the curve of it as he shuffled forward, his Reebocks nudging against your Converse as he pressed the length of your body against his. “S’all dark up here, no one would even know.” He was halfway between teasing and telling the truth, his umber eyes sparkling with mischief even in the low light.

You giggled again, shaking your head. “You can just take me home if you want to do that, Ed,” you said softly, biting your lower lip.

Excited whispers began downstairs. One minute left until midnight.

The thrill of New Year’s Eve had often been lost on you, it was just another day, just another year. It never meant anything to you besides the passage of time, crossing days off the calendar as the clock ticked. New Year’s Eve was just a night where you got a little too drunk and maybe kissed a stranger if you were feeling bold.

But the last day of 1985 was different. You had plans, goals for the first time in a long time. You had college lined up in Indianapolis in August, you and Eddie were going to move out of your hellhole of a small town and actually start your lives. He was going to graduate, find a job at a record store in the city and keep making music with Corroded Coffin. He’d make it someday, you could tell from the tapes you’d been passing around at your college tours–people really liked them.

“I love you,” you whispered in the dark, looking up at Eddie with adoration written clearly over your expression.

A sweet kiss to your nose followed, making you scrunch it up. “I love you too,” he murmured, leaning in further so his frizzy, curly hair blocked your view of the rest of the dark hallway. “Eighty-six is our year, right?”

There was a hint of nervousness, you could see the seedling of fear in him that you would disagree. You didn’t understand how Eddie could think that you’d ever doubt him, not when you looked at him like he had single-handedly hung the moon and the stars.

You nodded instantly. “Of course, nothing’s gonna stop us.”

Everyone was counting down, voices shouting and the shuffling of feet as people figured out who they were going to be with when 1985 morphed into 1986. This was the first year since you were a little kid that you didn’t have to scramble to figure something out, content as you and Eddie blended into each other in the shadows of the upstairs hall.

Your voices were hushed, whispering numbers to one another in a way that was so sappy and soppy that you thought it couldn’t possibly be real. He couldn’t possibly be yours.

Eddie kissed you at midnight, so eager that your noses mashed together and your teeth collided. You were smiling into it, holding him as close as you could as your mouth melded to his. You’d kissed him often, dozens of times a day, but it always felt just as electric as the first time he’d kissed you.

And that was how your New Year’s kiss felt, giddy and eager and had your heart swelling in a way that made you think it would explode. He pulled away first, smiling down at you for another moment. “Eighty-six, baby!” he whooped, so loud that it pulled a startled laugh from you.

“Eddie!” you squeaked, your fingers pressing over your mouth. “You gotta be quiet.” You were never serious when you asked him to hush, he always knew that.

“Eighty-six is gonna be our year,” he said again, albeit much softer as he stooped down to pull you into another kiss.

It was March when you learned that Eddie thought he was a coward.

A fist pounding on your front door pulled you from the clutches of sleep. You had a long day and had passed out early, the bright red numbers on your alarm clock informing you that it was only a few minutes after ten.

It was hard to get out of bed, your mind still swirling with the confusion of waking up abruptly as you sat up and rubbed your eyes with your palms. The knocking didn’t stop, if anything it had increased in tempo. Another moment later your feet were shoved into slippers and you were blinking sleep out of your eyes as you made your way across the tiny apartment.

Your movements were slow and languid until you looked through the peephole: you’d never seen Eddie look so terrified in his life. His eyes were wide, every speck of color drained from his face and his expression gaunt.

It only took you a second to wrench open your door after panic made you fumble with the lock, Eddie’s arms immediately wrapping around you as he nearly knocked you onto the floor.

“Eddie, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice raspy from sleep as you managed to catch yourself. The majority of his weight was leaning on you, his face tucked into your neck as he pulled in labored breaths. You ran your fingers up and down his sides, your arms trapped against your body as he clung to you.

It was Hellfire night, the end of his big campaign. He’d been talking about it for weeks, ranting and raving about Vecna and how hard it would be for the Hellfire boys to beat him. You couldn’t think of anything that would make him react like this.

“Chr-Chrissy Cunningham,” he finally muttered against your neck, pitching you even further into the deep end of the pool. Your brows drew together as you nodded in an attempt to get him to talk more. He’d told you about the weird request she had for something stronger than weed, how he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to sell to her. The two of you had met up after he got out of school, sitting in the back of his van as you shared a bag of chips before you had to work. You’d just shrugged, telling him to go with his gut.

“Did something happen, Ed?” you asked, your voice soft. Worry took root in the pit of your stomach as you whirred through scenarios. It could’ve been anything, really. She could’ve taken too much, or could’ve had an accident or ratted him out. Or said something to him, she was a cheerleader after all and Eddie was sensitive beneath his carefully constructed exoskeleton.

The thought that something else could have happened spiked through you, the recesses of your mind reminding you that Chrissy Cunningham had always been a cute, sweet girl whenever she checked out books at the library. She had stunning eyes, and always asked you about yourself. That could be something Eddie wanted, a girl much sweeter than you. You pushed the thought away.

You swallowed thickly, reminding yourself of the situation at hand. He still held you close, your front door wide open and revealing the clear night outside. “Eddie, you gotta talk to me,” you whispered again, squirming in his tight grip.

He shook his head, a pathetic whimper pulling from his throat in a way that broke your heart. There was desperation in the way he pulled you closer, crushing you into his chest. You didn’t protest, letting him work through his thoughts. A breeze floated through your door, carrying in the chilly March air and making you shiver in your flimsy pajamas.

“She’s dead,” he said, and the floodgate opened as your heart stopped. “I don’t know what happened. I was in my room getting the ketamine and I came out and she was, like, in this trance. And I know it sounds crazy and you won’t believe me but she literally lifted off the ground and her eyes rolled back and–oh fuck–her bones started breaking like it was a horror movie and she fell on the ground and her eyes were sucked out of her head. Idon’tknowwhathappened.”

He didn’t breathe once as he rambled. All the air sucked out of the room as you processed what he was saying. Dead. The kind, sweet cheerleader was dead. Poor girl, cut down her senior year just before life opened up to a whole world outside of Hawkins. She was the town sweetheart, known by all and loved almost as much.

And the last person that saw her was Eddie.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. “We need to go,” you finally said, snapping back to yourself. Normally Eddie was the one who took charge, he figured out the plans or solved the problems caused by your neuroticism. But in his time of need you found yourself naturally taking up the mantle.

“What?” he whispered, seemingly caught off guard as he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. His huge hands were on your shoulders, you could feel him trembling. “What do you mean?”

You gently placed a hand on his face, watching how Eddie flinched before he leaned into your touch. It made you want to bring him to your room and bundle him up in your quilt to protect him from the world. “Did this happen in the trailer?” you asked, your thumb stroking on his cheekbone.

He nodded, not quite grasping what you were saying. “Then we need to go, whoever finds that body is gonna think you did it.” His eyes widened in a way that told you he hadn’t considered that. “We need to get out of here.” There was urgency in your tone as you slipped from his hold, moving in a blur.

You were dressed with a backpack in hand in minutes, working Eddie’s keys from his pocket as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him after you. He was in shock, clumsy and slow as he followed you. There was the soft whisper of him talking to himself under his breath as you charged down the stairs to your second-story apartment. There was no argument as you got into the driver’s seat of the van, peeling out of the spot as soon as Eddie buckled into the passenger side.

“Reefer Rick’s out of town,” Eddie mumbled after a few minutes of driving, looking out the windshield in the dark. You didn’t know he could seem so empty, like someone had cracked him open and spilled all of his joy out. It made you feel helpless. You nodded, driving toward Lover’s Lake like you had stolen the van, cutting corners and running lights the further you got from town.

The description of Chrissy’s body was stuck with you, her limbs akimbo as she cooled on the carpeted floor of the trailer. You thought about what Eddie said, your brow furrowing as you tried to piece it all together to make a picture that felt like reality. It made no sense, sounding like something out of a Stephen King novel. But you believed that he didn’t do it.

There was no way your Eddie could do something like that. He cried when he accidentally ran over a squirrel that crossed the street at the wrong time, he wasn’t a killer.

The two of you left the van parked a ways into the woods, hiking the rest of the distance to Reefer Rick’s in silence. Eddie startled every time a stick cracked under your feet, nearly jumping out of his skin as you reached out and slotted your fingers between his. You could tell his nerves were frayed as he barely held it together, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you gently guided him forward.

The house was locked, leading the two of you to the boathouse for shelter. Eddie tested to see if the door was unlocked as you looked anxiously over your shoulders as though the police had followed you there. There was no way they could have, the only people who knew Chrissy was dead were you and Eddie… you kept repeating it in your head. Wayne would find her in the morning when he got home from work, you would have until then to figure something out.

The door swung open and Eddie stepped out of the way to let you in. The boathouse was full of crap, boxes and small boats strewn about, tarps thrown over various items and disguising their shapes.

“We’ll figure out what to do next,” you breathed with a sigh as Eddie shut the door. You realized that you were trying to soothe yourself more than him as you pulled on the chain for an overhead bulb, setting your backpack down as you looked around.

“I didn’t do it.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, he nervously stood in front of you. His rings flashed as he wrung his hands together, brown eyes wide as he settled his gaze on a boat. You traced the silhouette of his throat and Adam’s apple, his pale skin standing out against his dark hair as you looked at his profile.

You walked over to him, pulling him into a soft embrace. “I know you didn’t, Ed,” you whispered, guiding his head into the curve of your neck. “Never thought you did, I promise.”

The sob he let out was devastating, he took big lumbering steps that moved the two of you to one of the boats that had been discarded. He guided you back onto it, crushed beneath his weight as he started to cry into your neck. The tears were hot against your skin, rolling over your throat and soaking into the collar of your sweatshirt as you held him.

You shushed him softly, running your fingers through his curly hair as you tried to soothe Eddie. “I-I didn’t do it, I swear,” he pleaded against your neck, his voice loud enough to make you nervous as you looked out the windows dotting the living room walls.

“I know, I know,” you murmured, pressing your lips to the side of his head. “You gotta keep it down, we don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”

He huffed, nodding against you as he pulled you even closer. “I just ran away like a coward,” he sighed, voice cracking as he started to hiccup. “How… how could I do that? Just leave her there? I should’ve done something, should’ve called the cops.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “Ed, anyone would’ve been scared. It’s not like something normal happened.” You didn’t know what else to say, there was nothing you could tell him that would make it better. No matter what, there was still a dead girl on the floor of his trailer. “There wasn’t anything you could do.”

There wasn’t a moment of silence until Eddie fell asleep, you whispered platitudes to him in the dim light. The rough wood of the dinghy dug into your back, but you didn’t dare move a muscle as you felt Eddie start to relax and fall asleep in your arms.

It was only a few days later when your whole world fell apart.

Buying more time.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you burst from the Upside Down version of the Munson trailer, a sickening crunch and Dustin’s scream echoing behind you. The sound of the poor kid getting hurt almost made you stop and turn around. Almost.

But you couldn’t, you could only keep going as you thought about your sweet idiot of a boyfriend. How dare he risk himself like that? Didn’t he know that you couldn’t make it, that you couldn’t live without him? If he did, he didn’t seem to take it into account when he cut the rope connecting the Upside Down and Hawkins, running off into battle.

You screamed as the column of bats took Eddie to the ground by his neck. They were pulling at his limbs, scratching and biting him. What did he think that fucking trashcan lid and broom spear would do? Your legs were moving now, sprinting faster than you ever even knew you could. The ground was rocky and uneven, but you somehow kept planting one foot in front of the other. Some distant part of your brain heard Dustin behind you, his shouts matching your own.

Eddie was screaming so loud.

It was the ugliest noise you had ever heard in your life, each one cutting through your heart.

Then the bats fell, the sudden swarm dropping out of the sky like pathetic rubber toys as you reached where Eddie was sprawled on the ground. You stepped on their carcasses in an effort to get to him faster, almost slipping as their thin bones crunched beneath your feet. Blood covered his face and neck, soaking into the white fabric on his Hellfire shirt as you fell to your knees next to him.

“Eddie!” Your voice was too loud, too tight in your throat. Tears were already leaking from your eyes as you knelt over him, your hands vibrating in the air as you hesitated to touch him. It was like everything was frozen as you took in the sheer amount of crimson. There was so much blood, it pooled in every nook and cranny of his body as he slowly looked up at you.

Dustin was soon to follow, limping as he fell on Eddie’s other side. Eddie’s brown eyes rolled in his skull a little as he looked at Dustin, the teen’s face crumpled in anguish. “Bad, huh?” Eddie asked, films of blood bubbling at his pink lips as he spoke.

Yeah. The worst.

Dustin vehemently denied it, speaking where you couldn’t. There were promises of a hospital thrown out there along with the idea that Eddie would get better. He helped you hoist Eddie up, your arms cradling his torso as you pulled him into your lap. You knew it was over when Eddie cried out for a second, but you nodded, your free hand falling to his cheek as you looked down at him.

God, why did he have to be so selfless?

It only took Eddie a moment to smile as he looked up at you. But you could see the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, the way they slid down his temples and into the frizzy mess of his hair. “I didn’t run away this time, right?” his voice was tight and strangled, the sound of it so foreign coming out of Eddie’s mouth. Rowdy, boisterous Eddie, reduced to raspy whispers.

“No, you didn’t,” you managed to gasp, your voice wobbly as you found your breath. It came in harsh inhales, like you were about to drown. “You didn’t run.”

“You gotta do everything we said we would,” Eddie said, watching as you started to cry. It was still stoic enough, a few tears running down your cheeks. “You gotta go to college and live in Indianapolis and become a writer.”

It was impossible to even imagine your dreams, Eddie was there in every single one. You shook your head, your throat closing as you pressed your lips together in a stubborn line. “I can’t,” you sounded so pathetic, “I can’t without you, Ed.”

Thunder cracked over your head, red lightning illuminating the roiling, stormy sky. It sounded like Eddie was choking with each breath, blood bubbling in his throat. Dustin reached out to you, his hand clasping your shoulder as your heads bowed together, temples knocking as you both tried to keep your misery at bay. At least for now.

“You’re gonna, you’re gonna do it all for me,” Eddie argued, his breaths shortening. “You never needed me for any of it, anyways. You were always too smart for me.”

You whined, hardly even able to breathe. “Shut up,” you mumbled, your trembling fingers tightening on Eddie’s jacket in some desperate attempt to keep him with you for longer. “I need you, I need you with me. I don’t know…” You couldn’t even finish what you were saying.

“Dustin, you promise me you’re gonna take care of everyone, the little sheepies.” There was an unspoken promise that Dustin would be taking care of you as well. He denied Eddie the same way you did, mumbling that he wouldn’t have to because Eddie would be there to do it himself. But, Eddie was just as smart as he was stubborn, forcing a promise out of the teenager.

“I love you,” Eddie said, his gaze shifting back to yours. He was starting to look hazy, his brown eyes having trouble focusing on your face. His vibrancy was slipping away.

“I love you so much, baby,” you whispered, molars digging into your cheek as you tried to keep the tears stinging at your eyes from falling. The iron taste of your blood filled your mouth. “I love you more than anything in the world.” Your bottom lip wouldn’t stop trembling, your entire life falling out from under you as your blood-streaked fingers smoothed the hair curling out from under Eddie’s bandana.

Eddie’s breath turned into choking, Dustin saying his name over and over again. You watched his eyes slip from yours, the furrow in his brow smoothing out. The awful choking sound continued, his throat struggling for hair as his head turned to match the slope of your thigh. “Eddie…” you sobbed as you let the knot in your throat release, watching the last glimmer of light disappear from him, the sound of his labored breath fading to nothing.

You’d never heard a silence so deafening.

He was so quiet, so still. Eddie had never done anything quietly in his life. Everything about him was vibrant and genuine, he spent every moment pouring himself out into the world for greedy people like you to gobble up. There was never a moment Eddie wasn’t trying to make someone laugh, bending over backwards for just a smile. He spent hours dreaming up songs for his band, writing down stories he would then perform for his friends over the Dungeons and Dragons table. Hell, he even talked in his sleep.

It had always been you who told him to quiet down, but you never meant it. A world without Eddie was a world devoid of color, of life.

Now that you knew his silence, you regretted every second you’d ever asked him to be quiet.

Dustin was crying, the noise bringing you back into the present. You didn’t realize that you had been speaking, begging Eddie to come back to you, to say something. It felt like you were falling, tumbling end over end as your whole life was ripped from your fingers.

Did you ever stop falling? Was there ever Wonderland at the end of the tunnel, or did it just go on forever?

You clutched Eddie’s still-warm body as close as you could, rocking back and forth as you screamed your throat raw. You didn’t know that anything could hurt so much, almost convinced that the gaping hole in your chest was real. Dustin was right there with you, an arm across your back as he sobbed into your shoulder.

You wished it was you instead, that Eddie was cradling your dead body on his lap. He would be able to recover, to move on. In your fantasy you could see him becoming a huge rockstar that wrote sad ballads about his past lover. Time would heal his wounds.

But for you? Time felt like it had stopped, the entire world paused to mourn the death of one of its best and brightest alongside you. There wasn’t even thunder overhead, just the sound of you and Dustin.

There was no way to tell how long had passed when Steve pulled you off of Eddie, shouting that you needed to go. Nancy and Robin had already yanked Dustin to his feet, Eddie’s guitar pick necklace dangling from his fist as the teen struggled against them.

“Just… just let me…” you mumbled, flinching away from Steve’s arms as you plucked Eddie’s gaudy costume rings from his cooling fingers and hastily shoved them in the pockets of your jeans. You lifted him just enough to slip his vest from his shoulders, easing his limp arms through the holes where the sleeves had once been as gently as you could. It was bloody, there were rips in the fabric.

You could see where he’d stitched your name beneath the flap in the collar, the embroidery haphazard and clumsy and so genuine that it hurt. Another scream ripped from you, your arms curling around Eddie’s shoulders on instinct as you pulled his limp form back to you.

Maybe if you held him long enough he would come back, laughing about how it was a misunderstanding of some elaborate prank he’d decided to pull. He would promise you that he was okay, making you taste the costume blood just to assure you that it was fake. Then he would grab your face between his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips, and you’d make him swear to never do something like that ever again because it felt like a part of you had died with him.

But he didn’t do any of those things.

It took Steve forcing you off of him, arms locked around your waist and hauling you up from the ground. You thrashed and screamed and kicked, fighting him every step of the way as he dragged you back to the trailer. He was talking to you, but you couldn’t understand a word he said over your cries.

Even as Steve forced you back through the gate to Hawkins, you could only think about how you’d never seen Eddie so quiet.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #reader insert #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #this one hurt #cried while writing it #stranger things season 4 #joseph quinn #st s4 #eddie munson fic

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kieiswrite · 2 days

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Here’s why I love convex:

They’re friends.

And yes, yes, the weird goofy disturbing nonsensical storylines from seasons five and six of possession and pranks and corporate domination compel me to this day, and after that they’ve been members of mayoral office and king’s court, allies and adversaries and roommates, but friendship is what ties it all together.

The extent of it is not always obvious on videos, because both of them tend to cut out much of the more casual interactions, but every time one of them streams, the other will be there. Scar will try (and fail) to murder Cub by spleef and they’ll start talking of anything and everything. They’ll go threaten Joe or sneak to the forbidden areas in Decked Out 2 and all the while there is an ease to every interaction; taking each other for granted in a good way. Scar compliments Cub’s genius and Cub leaves a sweet little message at the top of Scar’s castle. Always the first to comment on each other’s tweets, getting along in person swimmingly as well, these guys have been friends for years and years and it shows.

There are many wonderful friendships on Hermitcraft, of course - a lot of different flavors, and many that I enjoy. There’s a couple reasons why I especially like watching Scar and Cub together. One of those reasons is, weird enough, how understated their relationship is from the content creation standpoint. They hardly ever call attention to it; it’s just there. (Though to be fair, Cub does appear to be plenty obsessed with HotGuy.) They are always willing to run with each other’s bits, a great quality common on the server. I also very much enjoy how between them, there’s an assumption of competence (or at least no stated assumption of incompetence) - even if it might be unwarranted! Scar is prone to silliness but Cub rarely makes fun of him for it, and rarely calls attention to any mispronunciations or the like. Now, hermits making fun of each other is funny and never ill-intended, and I wouldn’t want every relationship to be like this, but the convex way of utmost mutual respect until suddenly an attempted murder is much to my taste.

Okay. Okay Kie we get it, they are friends. So why ship it?

Right. So this is a real friendship between real life people. My interest does not lie in RPF - and even though HC sometimes skirts the line, especially with Convex there are many, many explicitly character bits. They may not have called it roleplay -

(Forgive the side note but, bless these ccs the mcyt as a whole has a very muddled idea of what roleplaying even is. Here’s Iskall85 on stream talking about his planned murder mystery game saying he hates roleplay because these scripted scenes don’t interest him but if there’s just a character he could embody, and pretend to be, without a script then he might enjoy that... Sir, acting out scripted scenes is called acting, what you describe is roleplay. Okay side not done)

So what they did on s5, they may not have called it roleplay but they wore vex heads and did voices and had a whirly transition to when the vex take them over, so I have a very easy time thinking of them as characters. And the friendship the players have happens to be the basis for how the characters act with each other. So I imagine characters Scar and Cub having this implicit respect, closeness and shared understanding. And clearly they like each other.

So let’s turn closeness to commitment to, if we want, devotion.

Why I make it romantic is simply because I like fictional romance and for me, the building blocks for friendship or romance are not much at all different. They’re repeatedly (business) partners, they live together, that’s enough for me. My own relationships have started from close friendships and I’d be hard pressed to explain what the “romance” component even is, so that surely colors my view.

Also. Minecraft men are known for flirting with each other and they do it too - but that is not the main draw for me. I don’t need that, though I enjoy it when it happens.

Also! All this talk about friendship doesn’t mean I’d mainly write them friends to lovers, or in a kind of relationship that I would want. I am a great enjoyer of the more messed up parts of their stories, Convex as villains, as corrupted, as possessed. Mutual respect and care can be twisted or taken to an unhealthy extreme. But the dynamic between them is what drew me to them and what keeps me enjoying them together.

You’ve slept in the drafts for months. Now go, my rant, roam the world. Be free!

#convex #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #hermitshipping #i need to study so naturally i'm writing essays on tumblr

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happy74827 · 1 day

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The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you"

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley"

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

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rendy-a · 3 days

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Reverse Trope Writing Prompt Summaries

I've seen these reverse trope prompts going around and they seem so funny, I've decided to write one. I'll list a bunch of little summaries and then do a poll to vote on one.

Too many beds! When Deuce gets the opportunity to visit Clock Town with his friends, he excitedly tells his mother all his friends will be joining him. He later discovers that only his wild pal the Prefect will join him. Too embarrassed to admit to his mother that the large hotel rooms she rented was for nothing, they decide to have such a wild party that no one will ever guess that there were too many beds!

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss. You've just discovered that the animal shelter in your town is being closed so that a local restaurant run by a shady (rumored to be mafia) boss can open a branch location. You've seen a teal-haired menacing man going into the place with his timid looking secretary. On impulse, you decide to grab the secretary and use his life for leverage to get the mafia to give up their plan. Little do you realize the bashful gentleman you've kidnapped is actually the famous Don Azul himself.

Real nice guy who hates only you. There was a time when you remember actually wanting to be Silver's friend. That was before you got to know the residents of Diasomnia better. Now, it seems like every sleepover or breakfast date you have with your new bestie Lilia only makes the gentle Silver strike out at you in a ball of jealous rage. Just what is his problem with you?

Academic rivals except it's two teachers who compete to have the best class. Crowley brags about how he is clearly the best teacher on campus. Why, when he teaches class, the students never fail to gain a perfect score! Ha, he is so magnificent! Perhaps he should just take over teaching full time and let Crewel do the annual government audit instead, ha ha! To which Crewel replies, Hell no. The competition to prove themselves most worthy teacher (and avoid the audit) is on!

Divorce of Convenience. Marriage to Ruggie was everything you thought it would be; a tough life but it had its perks. Your hubby Ruggie always had an ear out to opportunity for his small family. That's why, when he told you about the new low income housing for unmarried residents he found, you couldn't rule it out. One quicky divorce later, you are now on the road to financial security...that is if you can convince the straight-laced inspector Jack that you truly are nothing more than the roommates you pretend to be.

True hate's kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse). You've become the assistant to Vil in order to make extra cash. One day, in a series of mishaps, Vil ends up drinking a cup of tea cursed with his Unique Magic that caused him to lose his voice. With an important interview coming up, it up to you to convince the proud Vil to travel to Royal Sword and ask his eternal rival Neige for a kiss to break the spell.

Dating your enemy's sibling. After a huge fight, your former pal Ace is now your worst enemy. You can't stop thinking about that fight and how you (maybe) didn't quite win it. The whole thing just makes you hungry for revenge. You spent a lot of time thinking of the perfect way to get under Ace's skin when you see a post on Magicam of Ace's older brother working his theme park job. Suddenly, you have the wildest idea on who you want to bring to the campus dance.

Love Triangle where the two love interests get together instead. No one was more invested in being a fan of Vil Schoenheit then you, the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm. Unless, it was your rival fan Rook. Vil is thoroughly fed up with you both. He announces that, from tomorrow onward, only one of you will be allowed to accompany him to class and help him at lunch. You now have one night to prove to Rook that your admiration of Vil surpasses his own. As the night goes on, you discover the allure of being totally in sync with another super fan. Can your love for Vil survive his ultimate fan?

Too hot to cuddle. There is a heatwave happening at NRC and the air conditioning magic is broke all over campus. It wouldn't be much of an issue except your dating notorious cuddler Leona Kingscholar. You've turned him down for a nap in the sweltering botanical gardens and denied him from resting his head on your sweaty lap in Savanahclaw. Will your clever boyfriend find a solution or be driven mad by the frustration?

#Reverse tropes #poll game

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zorosprincess · 3 days

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Hypothetically Speaking

PAIRING - Tendou Satori x Reader WC - 2.4K GENRE - Fluff, Suggestive What You Missed - After confessing your interest in a certain red-head to your best friend, he took it upon himself to let his aforementioned teammate in on your possible interest.

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and your heart seemed to freeze. He couldn't truly be talking to you so soon. You'd thought maybe Eita had been pulling your leg. But low and behold, his name lit up your screen as you pulled it out.

3:15pm from Miracle Boy: y/nnn 3:15pm from Miracle Boy: so semi semi told me something interesting.

You groaned, half a mind to lock your phone and pretend you'd never seen the message. Unfortunately, you knew that your read receipts had probably given you away already. Bite the bullet.

3:17pm from Y/N: 'semi semi' needs mental help, don't listen to him 3:18pm from Miracle Boy: why not? he giving out bad advice? ;)

Why did he have to respond so quickly? You sighed and typed on.

3:19pm from Y/N: no idea what you're speaking of 3:21pm from Miracle Boy: y/n... -_- 3:22pm from Y/N: what? why that face?? 3:22pm from Miracle Boy: bc i think you know exactly what i'm talking about 3:24pm from Y/N: hm i like pretending that i don't know what anyone talks about. makes things fun

You watched the bubbles bounce in the bottom of the screen as you shifted in your seat nervously. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. You played with the idea of tacking on an extra 'lol' to the end to ease the pressure but before you could pick up your phone again, his message popped up.

3:27pm from Miracle Boy: ohhhh i see now lol 3:27pm from Y/N: ??what 3:27pm from Y/N: what do you see? 3:28pm from Miracle Boy: just how playful you are and i like that :P 3:28pm from Miracle Boy: we could have a lot of fun together

Your face heated up and you had to set your phone face down on the desk for a moment while you breathed, taking in the implications.

3:32pm from Y/N: what kind of fun are we talking about here? 3:33pm from Miracle Boy: my favorite kind of fun ;)

You sighed and looked around the room nervously before responding.

3:37pm from Y/N: satori, can we play a game of hypothetical for a second? 3:38pm from Miracle Boy: i'd love to play with you 3:39pm from Y/N: okay everything is hypothetical here so i can't be held accountable for what i'm about to say here 3:41pm from Miracle Boy: of course yes, all hypothetical

Hypothetical. You could do hypothetical. If it didn't go how you planned, there was always just playing it off. Blaming it on the hypothetical.

3:43pm from Y/N: hypothetically... let's say semi was onto something... like me liking you a little bit... 3:43pm from Y/N: and hypothetically if i didn't know what to do... what would you hypothetically say? 3:44pm from Miracle Boy: hypothetically i'd just want some fun. but that''s only if you're comfortable with it. 3:44pm from Miracle Boy: hypothetically

You swallowed nervously. Fun. Right... You were snapped out of your thoughts by the rustling of your classmates. You followed along and pulled yourself out of your seat, phone burning in your pocket as you walked out. You waited until you were out of the lecture hall before pulling your phone out again.

3:47pm from Y/N: so if, hypothetically, i just wanted some fun too... 3:48pm from Miracle Boy: then i would say we would have some fantastic fun 3:49pm from Miracle Boy: is this still all hypothetical?

You stared at your screen, your feet traveling towards your dorm room by memory as you mulled over your options. You played the safe option.

3:51pm from Y/N: i'm not sure... you tell me 3:52pm from Miracle Boy: not one bit :) 3:53pm from Y/N: so... what does this mean for us? 3:55pm from Miracle Boy: it means we're gonna have lots of fun... if you want to

You pushed your key into your dorm door and slipped inside. Was this even a good ideas? Who knew. You had to be sure.

3:57pm from Y/N: just fun. no feelings? 3:59pm from Miracle Boy: if that's what you're looking for then yeah. just fun and no feelings

Was that what you wanted?

3:59pm from Y/N: that's what i want yeah 4:00pm from Miracle Boy: come by my dorm and hang out for a bit? 4:00pm from Y/N: be by in twenty?

You flopped on your bed, head hitting the pillow as you laid your phone on your chest. No way that you just did that. You were in disbelief of yourself. That wasn't you. You picked up your phone again and clicked out of Satori's messages, where he'd liked your last message, and opened the unopened message from your best friend.

4:00pm from Eita: sooo? 4:00pm from Eita: did you and tendou talk about it then? 4:01pm from Y/N: don't speak to me 4:01pm from Y/N: can't believe you talked to him 4:01pm from Eita: so then that's a yes 4:02pm from Eita: and how did it go? 4:03pm from Y/N: you're a fake friend 4:04pm from Eita: that wasn't information y/n. i was asking to be in the know 4:04pm from Y/N: i confided in you 4:04pm from Y/N: stabbed me in the back 4:05pm from Eita: dramatic much?

You double tapped the message and gave it a thumbs down, glaring as his dots reappeared in the corner.

4:05pm from Eita: can you just answer jeeeeez 4:06pm from Y/N: some friend you are. 4:06pm from Y/N: ykw. 4:06pm from Y/N: name privileges revoked

You tapped his contact photo at the top of your screen and clicked to edit it. You deleted 'Eita' from the name line and typed up your new name for him quickly, smiling as you hit save and Eita's photo popped up above the name 'Dead to Me'. You exited his contact to find another message from him waiting for you.

4:06pm from Eita: did you change my name then? 4:07pm from Y/N: yup. dead to me 4:07pm from Eita: done being dramatic then? 4:07pm from Y/N: perhaps 4:08pm from Eita: so it went like: 4:09pm from Y/N: we talked.... hypothetically 4:09pm from Y/N: and hypothetically came to an agreement 4:09pm from Eita: god... don't make me pry anymore just get to the point 4:10pm from Y/N: shut up. this is your fault yk 4:10pm from Y/N: but we agreed... no feelings just fun 4:11pm from Eita: right. cause that's always worked well in the history of... ever 4:11pm from Eita: totally won't end terribly for you 4:11pm from Y/N: ykw. i'm going over there now. don't need the negativity eita

You sighed and tossed your phone down in irritation. What did Eita know anyways? It was his fault. Had to open his mouth and loop Satori into the conversation that the two of you had discussed the day before.

It was only the second semester of college and you'd gone the whole first semester without getting laid at all. You'd blamed it on trying to get accustomed to a new lifestyle. A new location. Making new friends. Friends like Eita. To whom, just yesterday, you'd confessed to about your small attraction to a certain red headed boy.

You glanced off to the side of your room to look at yourself in the mirror. You were somewhat presentable, but after a long day of classes, you could have looked better. Oh god. It suddenly occurred to you that you should look better when you found your way to Satori's dorm for the first time.

You scrambled off the bed quickly, cursing yourself for giving yourself such a short time frame to get over to his place as you tugged off the sweats you had been wearing all day. Your underwear came next as you scoured through your drawers, not minding the mess ou were making as you looked for a matching set to pull onto your body.

You'd spent over ten minutes wasting time and texting Eita, trying to process the bold move you'd made agreeing to do this with Satori. You were struggling to pull your hair into a somewhat manageable ponytail, fighting with the tangles it had accrued from the day, as you jumped around on one leg trying to pull on some leggings. Something that actually showed that you had some sort of body under your clothes.

"Fuck, teeth." You mumbled it aloud, nearly skidding into the bathroom as you rushed toothpaste on your toothbrush. Your brushing skills resembled more like biting the bristles and pushing the brush around with your tongue as you dragged a light zip up over your shoulders. You groaned in annoyance again as you looked at your face in the mirror closer, makeup smudged and eyes slightly red.

You wrecked through your cabinet like a mini hurricane, searching for redness relief eye drops and wetting your eyes down and hoping it would kick in by the time you got to Satori's dorm room. You crudely wiped at the smudged makeup with a wet tissue, clearing up the smudges just enough that you wouldn't notice unless you were analyzing your face.

You were quick to grab your dorm keys, pulling on a pair of loose shoes before leaving your dorm room with a slam of the door.

You reentered your room almost immediately, muttering curses over and over through a mouth full of toothpaste. You rushed to spit out the toothpaste in your sink, quickly rinsing out your mouth and dropping your toothbrush where it should be and heading for the door again.

"God, fuck." You groaned again, just before you exited your room, rushing back to your bed to grab your phone off your bed. You patted your pockets again, making sure you had your keys still before you finally left your apartment.

Satori's dorm was only in the next building over but you were out of breath by the time you got there. 5 minutes later than you said you would. It wasn't that big of a deal but you took a moment to catch your breath, trying to smooth back your ponytail before knocking on his door.

You shook your hands out a bit, trying to steel your nerves as you bounced on your feet. "Alright, alright, alright. Relax. It's just Satori." You mumbled under your breath, shaking your head at yourself. "We've talked to him before. He's just Eita's teammate. No biggie." You took a shaky breath as you lifted your hand. "Not Serious."

4:12pm from Semi Semi: this is a terrible idea 4:13pm from Semi Semi: no feelings? 4:17pm from Semi Semi: hello?? are you stupid? 4:21pm from Satori: it'll be fine 4:22pm from Satori: it's not real feelings yet 4:23pm from Satori: i can drop them 4:26pm from Semi Semi: this is a recipe for disaster

Satori glared down at his phone and was tempted to go off on his teammate. He was already nervous that you were late and - His thoughts were interrupted by two sharp knocks on the door. He was almost embarrassed by how quickly he was at the door and opening it, his messaged with Semi abandoned on his desk.

Your hand was barely back down to your side before the dorm door was swinging open. You swallowed roughly as your eyes raked up Satori's form.

He was clad in just a pair of gray sweats, hanging loosely, lowly on his hips so that you could easily see the band of his boxers on display and the deep v that led to it. You trailed your eyes up the bare expanse of his torso, defined muscles flexing as he leaned on the top of the door frame. Your eyes finally flicked up to his face and your breath caught in your chest.

He had his head tilted to the side, lazy smirk stretched across his lips as he peered at you through messy red waves. You'd never seen him with his hair loose from his usual style and you had to say, you were not expecting him to look that good like that.

"Did you want another minute to stare in the hallway, or do you wanna come in here?"

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you cleared the lump out of your throat. "Ri-right. Sorry." You laughed awkwardly before stepping towards him.

He leaned out of your way so you could enter his room. You could feel his eyes burning into your figure as he walked in. You toed your shoes off by the door and looked around awkwardly as you wondered whether or not you should sit down at his desk or his-

"You can sit on the bed, you know." He laughed softly, a sound that seemed to shoot relaxation through you just like it had every time he'd spoken to you before. You chuckled softly, dropping yourself onto his bed and crossing your ankles, toes tapping the air in nervousness.

"Sorry, I am, uh," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, "I've never done something like this before." You made your confession quietly.

"We don't have to do-"

"No!" Your shout took both him and yourself off guard as you threw your hands out as if in surrender. Apologies fell from your lips with embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry, just... no. I want to do this. I'm just... nervous."

He chuckled softly and crossed the space in his room easily, nudging your ankles apart to stand between your legs. "That's okay, we can take it slow?" You nodded quietly as you were forced to look up at him, his body looming over yours. His hands brushed against the sides of your jaw, fingers finding the dip behind the bone. You could smell the mint on his breath as he leaned closer. "Can I kiss you then?"

"Please," you mumbled back, holding your breath.

a/n some of the situations and/or messages are based on real life experience with a boy who is no longer with us but i will always remember <3

TAGLIST - OPEN

#tendo x reader #tendo satori x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #tendo fanfiction #tendou fanfiction #𓇻 SE

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adoriels-tears-if · 3 days

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I love this wip and this is not a criticism to u as an author more a vent about the attitudes of the characters (even tho i completely understand why they have to behave the way they do around strangers, it's just frustrating from the pov of the mc) like, reading about a child whose own mother pretends not to be related to them in public is heartbreaking and I always have to act out and be a little brat when im playing as my mc bc like,, what kid wouldnt😭 it feels hypocritical for the MC's family to tell them that they have nothing to be ashamed of with regards to their heritage and then only ever act ashamed of them around strangers, and to then be surprised/confused when the MC has tantrums and meltdowns like jfc they are gonna grow up so traumatised😅 again, I understand its the society the characters live in and I think this is more a testament to ur ability to write complex nuanced characters than anything else. It just hurts my heart. I can't wait for the (even angstier) teen phase❤️

I totally understand what you're saying Anon! Don't you worry.

To be totally honest, it hurts my heart too. (Sometimes I get so depressed about Mc that I'm forced to let the story rest so I can feel better and come back to it. XD)

I only dream of one thing, that Mc can show how extraordinary half-bloods are. But there are still so many things Ash and Elianna have to plan before that, so many obstacles for Mc to overcome.

#Adoriel's Tears #Mc #half blood problems

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randomnameless · 2 days

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Something pretty interesting I missed in my earlier Supreme Bullshit reading.

When Supreme Leader is upset at Lonato, she wonders if going to help him would be feasible, which leads to this convo with Hubert :

You want to save the man, Your Majesty? If I may, we would march all that way for...what, exactly?

Hubert, imo, thinks Lonato as basically already done and dead, Supreme Leader earlier was pissed at Lonato not following their plans, he acted on personal enemity and will most likely have to fight both the KoS and the Kingdom so...

Imagine the consequences of leaving him to die.

Here we have an example of the Supreme Leader who made this route, so interesting : it's not Hubert who has all the dastardry in their duo, Supreme Leader too, participates.

When KT forgets that they gave her a sailor fuku to be "more free", they write her to be in a similar vein as the other red Emperors like Arvis, or, Gustadolph from TS.

It's not "we must save him" or "we can't let him die", but Supreme Leader directly evacuates all that pathos, and thinks, rationally, about the consequences of leaving Lonato reap what he sowed.

We need our vassals to believe the Empire will always come to their aid. Always.

It's PR!

Going to save Lonato is not about Lonato himself, she can't give a fig about the dude, but it's all about public relationships and keeping a façade for her war of conquest : her vassals need to believe the Empire will always come to their aid.

Whether they actually do, or not, is irrelevant - they need to believe Adrestia is "trustworthy enough" to come to their help when called.

And the sheer "we need them to believe" coming from Supreme Leader herself? It's really neat, she's lying/manipulating the events to build a perfect image for her vassals, or the ones who will become her vassals (by choice).

Compare this to the Kingdom/Church "we need to help the ones who need help!" and here, instead, we have "we need to make people believe we're going to help them".

Lonato doesn't act following the plan ? It doesn't matter, Supreme Leader will seize this new opportunity to advance her own goals : aka, making people believe the Empire is "trustworthy" and "reliable".

Good. Now make our plans known to the others. I'm counting on you, Hubert.

What plans? The "we must rescue Lonato because he is our ally" or the true "we must pretend to rescue Lonato to make other nobles join our cause and believe in us"?

And what is intereting is how this exchange, of course, only happens when she is alone with Hubert.

In the following event, where Barney is here and they talk about their powers :

Ah, you should see the look on your face! Did Hubert threaten you? Don't let it get to you. Yes, he's quite good at that kind of thing, but it comes from a place of caution.

Hm... Sure. It's Hubert's way of caring I guess.

But then comes the manifesto :

I want to transform the world into a place where no one has to feel trapped by where they came from.

What's that about the place they come from? Aren't we later in this route trashtalking Annette and the Kingdom peeps because they believe in outdated values like chivalry and sacrifices to protect their loved ones?

When I am done, it won't matter where you are born, whose blood you have, or what powers course through you—everyone will be treated as equals.

When she means equals, she means people will "believe" everyone will be treated as equals, just like Lonato was supposed to "believe" Adrestia was coming to back him up and not just, play minimal part to guarantee their PR but not much more?

That's what we're fighting for, and that is what this war is going to achieve.

But Hubert said this war is a war of conquest ?

So believe me when I say this—I don't care who you are.

And yet Barney is still a nobody commoner, even if pal with the Emperor, when Linhardt is a general?

I only care about what you have done and what you have yet to do.

And what Barney can do with that power you said you don't give a crap about right? But what if Barney's abilities are basically the result of their weird powers, can we still say their power/abilities are irrelevant ?

And, hm, maybe someone can translate this for me ?

人の力に拠る未来を創るため、すべての犠牲を私は負って立つ！

She says this when she defeats 1k peons, and Googl'd it gives... "To create a future based on the power of people, I will bear all the sacrifices!" - so what this line about not giving figs about "what powers course through you everyone will be treated as an equal"? Could Amelie the lady from Mittelfrank who couldn't end up as a diva be treated like Leopold, or what?

Supreme Leader's words being treated as gospel is always imo hilarious, because Supreme Leader has some instances where, when KT's not busy dressing her up with some "Scarlet Blaze Power! Make Up!", she plays the role Arvis already played before her, the dastardly red emperor who manipulates and seizes every opportunity to reach her goals.

In Tru Piss we got the Javelins - but in Nopes? We get those "heart to heart" moments with Hubert that lampshade even more how much of an unreliable narrator Supreme Leader is - she still maintains care to have a level of PR and only confides to trusted people (yay Hubert!) or, in FE16, when, curiously, she has her mask on (Flamey doesn't need PR).

That's why we still have so many pretzels over Rhea's fate in Tru Piss, yes, Supreme Leader claims she wants to spare her when she adresses her in Firdhiad, in front of her allies and the people she has to lie to about her War.

But when she was with Billy? Nah, she can safely tell them that path lead to the death of Rhea and her people, something she rejoices about in their S support.

Too bad Nopes doubled down on "Sailor Adrestia" instead of giving us more of that "Arvis with a skirt" they teased us with (seriously that power move of betraying Rhea in the third chapter was just, that awesome from her part).

#3 nopes #it's upsetting because Fodlan is a treasure trove of missed opportunities #Supreme Leader is one of them #just imagine a game where the world isn't full of pretzels or doesn't end after a S convo if a FB #and Supreme Leader has to use her skills to deceive and manipulate people #instead of them being gullible idiot who suddenly develop amnesia about Flamey in FE16 #or are drunk on 'imperialism yay' kool aid #wait wait wait #I had the wildest AU nonsensical shit right now about Sailor Adrestia #dimitri being Sailor Faerghus #and Lorenz is Sailor Leicester #and twist! the real moon people are lizards and agarthans #some humans inherited their powers through nefarious means #or less than nefarious ones #and rhea was the original sailor adrestia #fuck i'm doomed

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legitalicat · 1 day

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Appalachian Trailer Park!Sihtric - dating (SFW)

AN: This was supposed to be headcanons but now it's just turned into ramblings oops. This is not necessarily meant to be a universal Appalachian experience portrayal, but it is basically very close to mine and most people I grew up with. 😅

Masterlist here!

CW: Some sad moments, character death, AFAB!reader, talks of murder, talks of violence, blood a little, FLUFF (like tooth rotting kinda vibes)

Pairings: Sihtric Kjartansson x You

Word count: I'm guessing between 1 and 1.5k but I'm not real sure 😬 I kinda went crazy I will admit

You had lived in the same trailer park in the foothills of Appalachia your entire life. Despite anything that might lead someone to believe different, you liked it here. True, part of you longed for more. But how could one find more when their heart belonged to the mountains?

And maybe the cute guy who lived in the trailer across from yours had part of the reason to do that.

See, Sihtric moved in with his grandma, across from you, when you were both just entering high school. Your momma found out that Miss Ethel's daughter had been killed by her husband, and she had to take in her grandson because of it.

Miss Ethel was a lovely woman. She always volunteered to watch everyone's kids, during the summer she'd help provide the lemonade and the jar for catching lightning bugs. If anyone needed anything, from a cup of sugar to knowledge on hiding a body, Miss Ethel was there.

So, your little community welcomed the boy without a doubt. He didn't really cause any trouble, for the most part. Mostly just cussing in front of the little ones without thinking or throwing something in a fit of anger and making a loud noise.

Surely, wasn't a punishable crime.

Though it helped that you, the girl who helped tutor anyone who asked and baked cookies for the miners to have after their shifts, was sweet on him.

And boy, was he sweet on you.

He was working on his dirt bike in the driveway and you stepped onto your porch. Immediately, he fumbled around and dropped his wrench and cussed like a sailor.

Your cheeks heated up and you would debate to yourself on whether to go back inside or pretend like he wasn't there.

But your eyes connected. You waved. He waved. And it was the easiest thing in the world.

You started dating that same night, after he offered to teach you about his dirt bike and it ended with him kissing you.

Despite the doubts, you and Sihtric stayed together through it all.

Every year in high school began and ended with you walking through doors of the school hand in hand.

You both graduated, though him only by a thread.

He was there as you started college two towns over, close enough to commute daily so were still together.

You watched as he started working for the local garage.

When you were both twenty, Miss Ethel passed.

It felt sudden, especially for Sihtric, but you found out she had been sick for a while and just hid it from everyone. Including her grandson.

If anyone asked him, you were his rock.

You explained the situation to your college professors, and if you could make sure to keep up with your assignments according to the syllabus, they would find a way to make it work.

So you all but moved in with him officially in the weeks following. You had originally planned on waiting until you got your degree.

But you felt the need to take care of him. And at first he was just angry, angry at everything and the world and the gods and even God who he didn't believe in. He was going to work and coming home and going straight to bed. He wasn't eating, wasn't talking to you.

So, like any good girlfriend, you told him either he let you help him or you would beat him with a broom.

For the first time in weeks he laughed. You started staying with him that night and you just never left.

Before you knew it, you had graduated college, gotten a job in your field, and Sihtric was being poised to take over as shop foreman in the next few years.

And yet, you stayed where you were.

The trailer was nice. It would be fine until you got enough money saved up to buy a house big enough for the brood that Sihtric seemed to want.

For now? For now you had everything you needed. Sure the windows leaked sometimes if the rain rolled down the metal wrong way. Sure, Sihtric would sometimes have to spend a few days working on something else that broke.

But you had him. And that was enough.

The weeks may have been dedicated to work, but the weekends were for you.

Yes, you both always went to bed together. You always were affectionate (the man was a hugging machine after all).

But Saturdays he would wake you up by running a bubble bath for the both of you, using your favorite scent.

Then you would go get breakfast, usually going to Tudor's Biscuit World so he could get a bacon egg and cheese biscuit bigger than your face. You would get, as you called it, a deconstructed pot pie that you joked with him you would leave him for. He would tell you that would give him more money to work on his car.

But he would get you a pot pie at least once a week just because it made you smile. And you would get in the way help him at the fourteen million car parts stores he would go to just because you loved seeing him do what he loved.

Sometimes you'd go to the mall. It was slowly dying, all the family friendly fun stores quickly leaving. But there were still some good parts.

Like Rural King where you could get free popcorn and look at turkeys, chickens, and rabbits (plus any dog that people brought with them).

You would inevitably get sad when you were reminded you couldn't bring home the animals. Like, tears in your eyes, heart aching sad because you just wanted them to have a home.

Which would be forgotten, until you came back at least, when Sihtric promised you he would buy you a milkshake and a stuffed animal or a book of your choice.

Sihtric watched as you practically skipped to the bookstore. You spent an hour there, talking about books you wanted to read but couldn't buy because you couldn't buy the whole series and you were not doing that to yourself right now.

So, after getting your milkshake, you would go find a stuffed animal that spoke to your soul.

He would carry around the contenders for you, because it was those specific ones that spoke to you and you couldn't risk putting them back until you were certain.

And when, inevitably, you came to two that you couldn't pick between, he would tell you get both.

He spoiled you, truly.

Sometimes you would go to a local bar. Not because you personally drank, but mostly because watching drunk people do karaoke tickled something inside your brain.

It also meant Sihtric would wear his white tank top, which showed off his arms in the perfect way. And maybe you would be jealous over the way women looked at him. But how could you be when his arms were wrapped around you all night.

The man was not at all subtle about showing you off.

And if a drunken idiot got too bold with his words about you, Sihtric would suddenly be in protective mode. His voice firm and commanding when he gave the warning to the idiot, making your face a little hot (which you swore had everything to do with embarrassment and definitely not how his voice affected you).

If that wasn't enough to deter someone, and they dared touch you, that was it.

See the only reason you and Sihtric had not been banned from this bar was because Sihtric played just inside the rules.

No fighting in the bar. Fine. Sihtric wouldn't.

He would just gently move away from you before grabbing whoever touched you and throwing them out the door and into the dirt.

He would spend a few minutes wailing on the idiot, getting hit a time or two himself since he had had a few drinks.

But he would come back, knuckles busted, some blood on his shirt or spattered along his face, a bloody lip.

He would settle back in his spot as a waitress brought y'all an ice bucket and the first aid kit (which they regularly replenished now because of Sihtric).

You would get him just cleaned up enough, his hands in the ice for a few minutes at best, when he declared he was done and tired and just wanted to be with you.

So you would drive home, with a tipsy Sihtric singing loudly whatever love song played on the radio cause you would need further proof of his love.

You would settle into bed, being held close to him as you read to him until he fell asleep, and you followed him soon after.

Sundays would depend on you.

Sihtric practiced Norse paganism. You parents were very active in their Methodist church. It caused some conflict, especially when Sihtric started talking about your future children.

If you wanted to go to church with them, Sihtric would kiss you before you left to go and be in the parking lot to pick you up afterwards. There would always be flowers waiting for you. Sometimes it would be dandelions, as you insisted they were beautiful even if they were weeds, sometimes butter cups, and sometimes you got lucky and he had seen tiger lilies.

He would smile at you and kiss you while he handed them to you, ask if the service was good, and then take you somewhere to get lunch.

If you didn't really partake in their church, you both would stay in bed until noon. When you would wake up, you'd crawl out of bed and cooked some breakfast foods that would wake Sihtric up. He would sleepily stumble in the kitchen, grabbing the coffee you set out for him.

Sunday was a lazy day. You guys lounged around the house. Sometimes you both would play video games, sometimes you would watch a show.

There were times when Sihtric's friends from work, Uhtred, Finan, and Osferth, would come over on Sundays. You liked those guys a lot, if you were honest. They were all respectful of you, and kind, and Osferth cleaned up after them so you wouldn't have to. And mostly, they made Sihtric happy.

Sihtric and you would walk over to your parents' for Sunday dinner around 5pm.

Despite the differences in beliefs, and the way your dad not so subtly didn't really like him, Sihtric was respectful and kind to them.

He was the one who insisted you come, telling you he would give anything to have dinner with his family one more time, even if he didn't remember his dad fondly. Family was important to him, even if yours didn't like him, and he wanted you to have that

He would stay quiet, even taking his hat off when your dad would say grace.

He would make polite conversation, always eagerly bragging about you whenever he got the chance.

Sihtric would compliment your momma's cooking. She liked him, but since your dad didn't she tried to act like she didn't.

But she always managed to get him a little extra food to take home, would put his favorite cobbler in the dessert rotation, and make sure his favorite drink was always somewhere to be found.

Your dad was polite. That was about all he could manage. And that was fine, according to Sihtric, because he knew your dad couldn't bitch him out for making you happy.

Sunday nights would end back in your home. You would listen to his talkings of your life together. The promises he made.

He insisted once he became foreman, he would buy you a big house with a dishwasher and enough room for all the animals you could ask for.

You two would be able to have a family of your own, ideally with four children or more, and he would give you everything.

You assured him you knew he would keep the promises he made you. But you always thought to yourself how you would be perfectly content with him, here, forever.

You had a roof over your head, food in your kitchen, electricity and water on demand, and a whole lotta love. You had Sihtric.

It was a simple life. But it was yours.

Side note I could not find the original source of this picture if someone knows please let me know.

Taglist: @foxyanon

#sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #appalachian life #appalachian sihtric #the last kingdom #headcanon #fic

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