Cynthia

@chaoticgirl04​ - Harry Potter account I say you're asking me to follow you into Mordor. +18, she/her

[lizzie-boo]

Whispers in the Shadows: Part 1

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 671

Masterlist

A/N: I'm not sure how many chapters this will be but I have the next two written and they will be posted every few days. After that updates might slow down a bit but I have fun ideas for where this is gonna go so I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!

As the months passed the feeling of unease was relentless. I could never place exactly what made me feel on edge but it was always something. Sometimes it felt like I wasn’t alone when I knew I was, or that the shadows hid secrets just out of reach, and more often than not the silence that filled my house was too much. 

I often found that hanging out with my new friends helped to ease the torrent of nerves. Yet, I never knew if it was because the fear I felt was all in my mind and they helped bring me back to reality or if I was just too preoccupied to notice the monsters lurking. All I knew was that I was grateful to have friends to keep me company when it all got too much. 

I pull open the door to Family Video, ready to return the movies I had rented last week. Movies were becoming my new crutch. When the silence got too loud and the shadows seemed to grow bigger I would throw on a movie and lose myself in the fictional world. 

“Welcome,” I hear a familiar voice greet me as I step in. Looking toward the counter I notice Robin and Steve wearing their matching vests. 

“Hey guys,” I greet as I place my movies down in front of them. 

“Another night home alone?” Steve asks as he checks my selections back into the system. 

“Yeah, my parents are out of town for another conference.” I let out a sigh and Robin catches my gaze. 

“Are they ever home? I swear you’re always renting movies or hanging with us so you don’t have to be alone,” Robin grumbles. 

I chew on my bottom lip for a second trying to figure out how to respond. Where they always away for work, yes, but it wasn’t their fault their adult daughter was still scared of the dark. My silly fears shouldn’t hold them back from their dream careers. 

“They just really love their jobs and they’re good at it so they are the first pick for conferences. It’s really not a big deal,” I reassure. 

Robin taps her nails against the counter before grinning up at me. “I think that once I graduate this year we should get an apartment together, then you won’t need to worry about your parents being away all the time.” 

“That might be the best idea you’ve had,” I joke before turning to browse the new movies next to the counter. 

Steve rounds the counter coming to stand next to me. He plucks the movie out of my hand before replacing it with his choice. I bump my shoulder into his before putting the movie back on the rack. 

“I was thinking that if your parents are still out of town we could hang out tonight if you want,” Steve tells me while adjusting his vest. 

“As fun as that sounds I already have plans with Nancy, we are having a girls night.” I then turn to Robin, smile widening. “You should totally come too!” 

She grins at Steve, mouthing something that I can’t quite figure out before telling me, “That sounds great.”

I finally settle on a movie for us to watch tonight and place it on the counter. I quirk a brow in Steve’s direction when he silently checks out the movie and doesn’t make a single joke about the cheesy movie I picked. 

Grabbing the movie I make my way toward the door and call out, “I’ll pick you up after your shift.” 

Robin waves to me before turning to Steve, “Should I add another tally mark to the you suck side?” The door swings shut behind me and I never get to hear Steve’s response. I add the quip to my mental list of things I need to ask Nancy about later. The never ending list of inside jokes and stories that I want to understand so I can feel like I’ve fully become part of the group.

[lizzie-boo]

Whispers In The Shadows Masterlist

Summary: Being new to town you befriend Steve and the gang. Close friendships are formed but you can't help but feel like there are secrets they are keeping from you. Could this have anything to do with the uneasy feeling you've had since you moved? The feeling that something is lurking in the shadows watching your every move.

Prologue

Chapter 1

[lizzie-boo]

Baby, You're My Type

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Words: 804

Summary: When someone unexpected asks you on a date it brings some new information to light. And long-overdue conversations are had.

A/N: Slowly getting back into writing, I'm very rusty so please bear with me. Hope you enjoy it. I should have a few more small fics coming out in the next few days while I still have some time off.

The Hellfire club was just finishing up a section of their campaign when you burst through the door, eager to share your news. You throw yourself into an open seat, leg bouncing as you wait for Eddie to stop talking. You lean over the table, fingers tapping as you stare at your best friend. 

As soon as he closes his mouth the words were spilling out, “The funniest thing ever just happened.” 

Everyone begins packing their things and Eddie quirks a brow in your direction. When all you do is stare at him with a wide grin he gestures for you to continue. 

“Jason just asked me on a date,” you laugh as the rest of the room goes quiet. The older members of the group are quick to rush out the door not wanting to see where this conversation goes. Dustin on the other hand stops shoving papers into his backpack and settles in, ready to watch the drama. 

Lucas and Mike tug at his arms, not wanting to stick around longer than necessary. “Let’s go,” Mike hisses. His eyes darting between you and Eddie.  

"Now," Lucas urges.

“I want to see how this plays out,” Dustin whines, catching your attention. Your laughing dies as you take in the worried look of the younger group members and realize that maybe your news wasn’t as funny as you thought. 

“You should go out with him.” You whip around, eyes wide. The click of the door behind you is all you need to let you know that only you and Eddie are left to finish this conversation. 

You open and close your mouth, trying to figure out the right combination of words. Something that will get through to Eddie and let him know just how ridiculous he is being. Before you can find the words Eddie continues, “I mean you do seem excited about it.” 

Finally you stand up and make your way toward him, leaning on the table just in front of his chair.  Your fingers wrap around the edge of the table, gripping it tight. 

“I was only excited to share the news because it’s crazy and I found it funny.” 

“I don’t see what would be that funny about it.” He leans forward in his seat. The small gap between you grows smaller but neither of you back down. The smell of his cheap cologne floods your senses and for a moment you forget what you are talking about. 

“He’s not my type, not even close to my type. Everyone knows that, so it’s funny that he thought he would ever have a chance.” The way you lips quirk up at the end of your sentence is not missed by Eddie. His eyes practically glued to your lips as you speak. 

“Are you sure, he seems like he would be your type.” There’s an edge to his voice that has you gripping the table harder. How can he still think that you would be into someone like Jason when you have always made it clear that you would never be caught dead with someone that arrogant. 

You chew on your lip, contemplating if you really want to say what you’re about to. Taking a deep breath you tell Eddie, “My type is metalheads, with crazy hair, tattoos, and a love for nerdy things like dungeons and dragons.” 

He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair, pretending to think about your revelation. You scan the room, trying to find anything to hold your attention so you can avoid looking at Eddie. 

“I thought you said everyone knew your type, but I never knew that’s what you’re into.” He stands from his chair inching ever closer. His warm breath hits your face and finally you turn your gaze back to him. 

Your heart flutters as you take him in up close. Mustering all the courage in you, you tell him, “I made it painfully obvious for so long, but in case you still can’t see it this should help.” 

He quirks a brow at your cryptic words and you bunch your hands in his shirt pulling him closer. Pressing your lips into his you let out all the pent up emotion you have been holding in. His arm slips around your waist pulling you closer as his other slides up to cup your cheek. 

When you pull back, you can’t help but to smile. “In case it still wasn’t clear, you’re my type Eddie, just you.” 

“Hmm, I never would’ve guessed,” he jokes. “That’s good though, ‘cause baby, you're my type too.” 

Lifting you slightly he sets you fully on the table intent on making up for lost time. As your lips find his you wrap your legs around his waist and get lost in the happiness of finally being with Eddie.

[lizzie-boo]

Whispers in the Shadows Prologue

Pairing: Steve x Reader eventually

Summary: Being new to town you befriend Steve and the gang. Close friendships are formed but you can't help but feel like there are secrets they are keeping from you. Could this have anything to do with the uneasy feeling you've had since you moved? The feeling that something is lurking in the shadows watching your every move.

Word Count: 743

A/N: New series alert, hope you enjoy!

I don’t know how I got here. Standing in front of my neighbors house praying that someone will be home. All I know is that I can’t be alone any longer. The silence is getting to me, every creak of the house sets me more on edge. Every passing shadow seems to be someone lurking in the distance. 

Ever since moving to Hawkins it has felt like someone was watching me. Not so much when my parents are home but when I’m alone it is overwhelming. The feeling has gotten to be too much. Which is exactly why I raise a shaky hand and gently knock on the door of the house that looks identical to mine. As I wait for someone to hopefully answer the door I take deep breaths, attempting to calm the nerves. 

Glancing over my shoulder I watch a shadow slink away and wonder again if something really is out there. My parents had always told me I had an active imagination, but wasn’t that something I was supposed to grow out of? Why would I still be imaging people hiding in the shadows at this age? 

Finally the door swings open and I jump. Standing in the doorway is a guy who looks to be about my age. He leans on the door while scratching the back of his neck. 

“Sorry for scaring you,” he says. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve always been jumpy,” I joke, hoping to ease a bit of the tension. My words ring in my ears, have I always been jumpy? Or was this a new development since moving here? 

He watches me for another second before someone in the house shouts, “Who’s at the door?” 

Glancing over his shoulder he shouts back, “The neighbor, now shut up and watch your damn movie.” 

I chew on my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing at his obvious attempt at acting annoyed. Just in the few moments I’ve spent in his presence I can already feel the tension easing. As if I no longer need to constantly look over my shoulder for who could be watching and waiting. 

“Hurry up dingus or we aren’t saving you any snacks,” another voice yells from somewhere inside. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes before yelling over his shoulder, “I’m trying to have a conversation, stop interrupting.” 

Raking a hand through his hair, he gives me a weak smile. I toe the pavement under my feet, suddenly feeling unsure if this was the best idea. Maybe it would have been better to stay at home and push through my fears. I mean there isn’t actually anything watching me from the shadows, so why am I being so paranoid? It’s just the unease of being in a new space. I’ll get over it in a few months. 

“Sorry to bother you. You seem busy, I should go.” I turn, stepping off the porch when his hand wraps around my wrist. 

Meeting his gaze he asks, “Is everything okay?”  

I quickly nod, hoping he’ll deem it good enough and let me leave. I glance over my shoulder once more as the unsettling feeling of being watched sinks in again. Catching a glimpse of a strangely shaped shadow, my body tenses. 

“We are watching Ghostbusters, why don’t you come join us?” I break eye contact with the shadow and let my eyes fall to the hand wrapped around my wrist. 

“I don’t want to intrude.” 

“Trust me, you won’t be. I’m Steve by the way.” The way he casually introduces himself has my nerves calming once more. His lack of concern for what might be lurking just down the street helps me convince myself that there isn’t anything to worry about. Which is why I make the decision to follow him into the house. 

He leads me into a living room filled with teens and a couple of others who seem to be around my age. I introduce myself quickly before Steve rattles off the names of everyone else. With my mind spinning from the countless introductions I glance around looking for an open seat. One of the girls, Robin I think she said her name was, scoots over on the couch and pats the spot next to her. 

“Thanks,” I whisper as I settle in. 

“So you’re Harrington’s new neighbor, huh?” 

“Yeah, I just moved in a few days ago.” 

“Nice, well welcome to hell,” she jokes before returning her attention to the movie.

[parkerslatte]

Through Thick and Thin

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

Summary: After Eddie is accused of murdering Chrissy, he goes to the one person he knows can help him calm down - Y/N.

***

It was nearing the end of the school day and Y/N headed over to her car, books clutched in her arms. She was more than grateful to leave school after a very non-eventful day of learning. Y/N regretted coming to school as soon as her first class started, she wished she skipped the day instead. Her parents were away for the next two weeks so she had the whole house to herself and her parents would never know that she skipped one day. 

As soon as Y/N was standing next to her car, she placed her books on the hood before rummaging in her bag to find her keys. She pushed everything around in search of them. Normally they would be in the bottom of her bag but the more she rummaged, the more she panicked as they were nowhere to be seen. 

Keep reading

[parkerslatte]

Long Time Coming

Steve Harrington x Fem!Sinclair!Reader

Word Count: 8.5k

Summary: For as long as he knew what love was, Steve Harrington loved Y/N Sinclair. However, Y/N Sinclair takes a little longer to realise her feelings for the Harrington boy. 

Warnings: mention of injury, mention of blood, cheating(?)

MASTERLIST

***

For as long as he could remember, Steve had been in love with Y/N Sinclair. Until they were partnered for a class project, the two had only spoken a couple of times - and both of those were initiated by Steve himself. Despite not talking or interacting much at all, Steve would sometimes find himself gazing across the cafeteria to Y/N as she talked and laughed with her friends. He thought she had the most beautiful smile in the world. 

Y/N, however, thought Steve was an arrogant douchebag. The couple of times they did talk before they were partnered up, Y/N couldn’t wait for the conversation to be over. He would approach her like they were friends - to which they most definitely were not. However, Y/N soon came to learn that she severely misjudged Steve’s character. 

***

November 1982

Keep reading

[heliads]

promise me - cato hadley

Cato promises you he won't volunteer for the Hunger Games, and then he does. When Plutarch Heavensbee offers you a chance to get back at the Capitol for taking your boyfriend away, of course you're going to say yes.

masterlist

Cato is dying. So they say. You haven’t been watching. 

It sounds bad. It is bad. But you had made your boyfriend promise that he would stay as far from the Games as he could, and you’d actually believed him when he said he would, that he’d live to old age with you. Cato has been wanting the Games as long as he’s been alive, but you’ve been wanting him to stay with you for about that long, anyway. It took forever to wear him down enough for him to say he’d give up his dream of being a Victor, and just when you felt sure of yourself, he’d gone and volunteered.

It was stunning how quickly everything fell apart. You’d heard the representative from the Capitol read out the name of the male tribute, and when you didn’t hear your boyfriend’s name, you thought you were safe, you were fine. Another year guaranteed. Before you could even take another breath, though, a familiar voice rang through the town square. In your nightmares, you’d seen Cato volunteer a hundred times over. It was fitting, somehow, that when he volunteered in real life, it was exactly like every other time you’d seen it.

He’d looked at you from the stage, tried to find you in the crowd. You weren’t smiling. And, when they’d asked for the last visitors to see the tributes before they were shipped off the Capitol to die in glorious combat, you’d never even had the chance to talk to him. You’d tried to go to him, but the small holding room was swamped with adoring fans. You know Cato saw you over the heads of all the people saying how proud they were, how they were so sure he’d win. He saw you, and he saw you shake your head at all the people cheering for his imminent demise, and he saw you go.

You regret it half the time he’s been gone, leaving so early. It wasn’t like you would have been able to talk to him anyway; by the time you were turning around, the Peacekeepers were already starting to usher people out, and Cato, breaking another promise, hadn’t kept a space clear for you to find him. But, at the end of the day, you didn’t just leave because it was impossible to get to him. You left because you couldn’t stand to hear everybody praising him for going to his death, and you couldn’t stand to hear one more word about how his betrayal would make him a better man.

At the end of the day, you almost saw it coming. Winning the Hunger Games is Cato’s big dream, and it has been since you were kids. Even when you were small, you remember him staying late to train. He was proficient in the sword before most kids got their first kiss. You had always hoped that he would love life enough to stay away from that arena of death, but the last of your hopes were gone when he volunteered.

You don’t watch a second of his Games, you can’t stomach it. You try to picture watching your boyfriend die live on camera, your own falling face broadcasted live to the Capitol. Would your neighbors approve of your reaction when the love of your life was run through or shot or poisoned? It makes you want to throw up, so you stay at home and try to stay away from the screens, but nothing works. Even clamping your hands tight over your ears doesn’t stop you from hearing the roars of the crowds outside when something happens. 

You have to assume Cato is doing well, but recently, people have been saying it looks bad. When Clove died, the mood shifted in the entire district, and that sense of jubilation over a seemingly guaranteed District Two victory has never returned. They say Cato is hurt, maybe. They say Katniss and Peeta are going to kill him.

Night falls when someone gets you, tells you that you have to head to the square, now. You get there just in time to see Cato on top of the cornucopia in the dark, trapping Peeta with the baying hounds below him. Katniss shoots. He falls. The cannon rings, and you’re dead along with him.

You’re numb for days. You don’t even remember the laments around you, strangers you’ve seen on the street telling you how sorry they are as if that does a damn thing when they pushed him to this. You get home, apparently. You get to bed. Somehow, you live when he doesn’t. You wouldn’t know how it happens. You don’t know a thing at all.

You stop leaving your room. You don’t want to see anyone, or have to witness the awkward guilt when they recognize who you are and why you look like the whole world has burned to ash around you, because to you, it has. Your parents try to bring you food, and you eat it, tasting nothing. You drink water and wonder why you bother when it just lets you cry again hours later.

When someone knocks on the door, you don’t bother answering, assuming it’s your family. The knock sounds again a few seconds later, smart and unavoidable. It doesn’t really sound like the tentative rap of your parents, so against your better judgment, you rise and answer.

There’s a man looking back at you, one you’ve never met before. He’s in his forties, maybe, his hair an early white. He looks Capitol, but you can’t fathom why he’d be here. He invites himself in, taking a seat at your desk and looking back at you once he’s settled himself.

“You should close that,” he says, gesturing to the door.

You’re not really energized enough to start arguing, so you do as told and sit down on your bed, hands clasping at nothing in your lap.

“Who are you?” You ask, voice scratchy from tears and lack of use.

The man glances once at the windows, once again at the door, and finally a quick scan of the room before he speaks quietly. “My name is Plutarch Heavensbee. I’m going to be the new Head Gamemaker.”

You eye him dolefully. “I didn’t realize the Head Gamemakers did personal apology tours for the dead tributes.”

He chuckles dryly. “We don’t. To speak plainly, I’m here because I need something.”

His honesty, however brutal, is a relief after all the saccharine half-meant apologies from the rest of Two. “What could I possibly give you?”

Plutarch steeples his fingers together, thoughtful. “Your unwavering loyalty.”

You laugh, now. It’s a far colder sound than his. “You and your Games killed Cato. Why would I ever follow you again?”

Plutarch’s eyes lock onto yours. “I may make the Games, Y/N, but I do not believe in them.” It’s a radical statement, and he lets it hang in the air for a few seconds before he continues. “We have a possibility of taking a stand against the Capitol. I’m looking for inside sources. You’re the perfect fit.”

You arch a brow. “I have no connection to the Games. How could I possibly help you?”

“Your lack of connection is the exact reason we need you,” Plutarch argues. “You’re not on the Capitol’s radar as anything more than a grieving ex-lover. Two is valuable to us.”

You lean back, considering this. “You want me to be a spy so I can get revenge on the Capitol for killing Cato. That’s it?”

“That’s it?” Plutarch scoffs. “You have no idea of the risk we all suffer just by meeting. Let me be clear, Y/N, what I am about to ask of you is dangerous to you and everyone you have ever known. The Capitol will butcher you and display your rotting body as a lesson. This is not something you pick up to pass the time. This will become your life, or you do not join. I want you here because you want to get back at the Capitol as much as the rest of us, but I will not permit you to be near us if I suspect you are not fully committed to the cause.”

His voice is steely, and it cuts through the haze of your grief like one of Cato’s knives. Briefly, the anguish gives way to fierce, bitter pain. You miss Cato with everything you have. There were a thousand things you were supposed to do, places you were meant to visit together, people you were supposed to become. You have been robbed of everything in the world. This is your chance to get the Capitol back, and you– you are going to take it.

“I’m in,” you say before you can stop yourself. “I want Snow gone.”

Plutarch’s thin lips curl into a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He stands, but pauses before he gets to the door. “We’ll be in contact. Keep your eyes open, and stay safe. Spies don’t have a long life expectancy. We’d hate to lose you before you even start.”

You nod grimly. “You as well.”

He almost smiles, then sweeps from the room. You can hear the distant sounds of him thanking your parents for the visit, and expressing his sincere sympathy for the loss of Two’s tributes this year. Then he’s gone, and you’re left wondering what you’ve done to yourself.

Your parents are thrilled when you get a job offer from the Gamemakers later that week. You’re able to pass off Plutarch’s visit as a last interview/congratulations before your new position begins. You’ll work in Two, mostly, deep within the district government, but you’ll have weekly meetings in the Capitol to update the Gamemakers on your progress.

In reality, you’ll be gathering everything you can and checking in with Plutarch once a week. The first time you take the train to the Capitol to meet him, you can’t help but wonder if this is how Cato felt, too, watching home rush away from him, knowing that success or death would await him in the Capitol. Your throat burns by the time you get there, torn raw with unshed tears.

Plutarch is careful, always careful, but as the weeks wear on, he trusts you little by little. He confesses eventually that having a spy in Two was crucial to his future endeavors. He won’t mention what those future endeavors are, not completely, but you understand why. It’s too risky to spill everything to someone he’s only just met.

You don’t know that Plutarch is truly certain of your loyalty, though, for another three months. By now, you’ve had several close run-ins with curious Peacekeepers, and transmitted enough information to feed Plutarch’s flames for years. As a reward, he takes you down to a secret room in the hidden headquarters of the rebellion, and in those cool, dimly lit rooms, he says something that transforms your life completely.

“We have Cato.”

At first, you think they mean the coffin. He was buried in the Capitol, they all were. There’s a broadcasted ceremony every year for all the tributes. That one, you watched. They wouldn’t let you or his family come. No one was by his side when he entered the earth. You sobbed for hours.

Plutarch shakes his head, though. “He’s still alive.”

You have to lean against the wall to steady yourself. “Impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Plutarch says. “We grabbed his body before rigor mortis set in. He’s been in a medically induced coma for months while our medical staff stitches him back together. It’ll be a while before he’s even conscious, and longer before he can walk and talk, but he’ll be back.”

You feel dizzy, head rushing from loss of blood. “They would have noticed,” you fight to say. “He was dead, Katniss shot him. The Capitol would never let him go.”

“They don’t care about the dead,” Plutarch says. “Not yours, not mine. I collected him.”

You glance up sharply. “You wanted him as a bargaining chip, didn’t you? If I didn’t agree so easily, you would have told me that you had my boyfriend.”

Plutarch nods, paying no mind to the storm in your heart. “I would have done anything to secure a spy in Two. You know that. I would go to any lengths to do it. Even, yes, hold Cato over you. That was the whole point.”

Of course it was. Clever, plotting Plutarch, would always have a second option. If he had doubted your loyalty back in your house in Two, he would have ensured he had a safety net to stop you from going to the Peacekeepers the second he left. You hadn’t needed it, so he’d kept his ace up his sleeve until now.

“Why tell me, then?” You croak. “You don’t care what happens to Cato. What do you want from me now? I’ve given you everything.”

“Not everything,” Plutarch muses thoughtfully. “Not your life, not yet. The time may come. But you’re right, Y/N, I do want more. You’ve been with us a long time. Long enough to grow complacent. I want to ensure that you will remain just as sharp as ever. As we draw closer to the Quarter Quell, our plans will accelerate. I need to know that you will guarantee our success.”

“I would have done that without you threatening to kill Cato a second time,” you spit.

Plutarch just sighs. “I can’t guarantee that.”

You can’t stop staring around the room, trying to find a curl of blond hair, a wicked smile, any sign of the boy you’ve loved for so long. “Where is he? I want to see him.”

Plutarch nods, gesturing for you to follow him. “I wouldn’t expect you to just take my word for it.”

He leads you through a series of locked doors to a small care unit. There’s a body encased in a blue cell, the encircling glass walls just large enough to thread the limbs and chest with tubes pumping some sort of liquid throughout. Through the misty aqua glow, you can make out a face.

You stumble. You’d know Cato anywhere, even almost dead, even almost back to life. You stare at him, eyes wide, and a tear falls from your face and drips onto the glass. You didn’t even realize you were crying again. You didn’t think you could, anymore, but this hope– it brings you back to life along with him.

“When will he be awake?” You ask, breath harsh in your chest.

Plutarch straightens up from where he’s been glancing at a nearby readout. “A month or two, perhaps. He’ll be functional by the time of the next Games, which is good. If all goes well, we will need to run.”

You look up at him. “Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. Anything.”

His lips curve up into a smile. In the ghostly blue light of Cato’s healing cell, he looks like a phantom. The ghost of Games gone by, perhaps. The ghost of the tributes to come. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

With that, you let the rebellion consume you. Not a day goes by that you aren’t traveling between districts, gathering information, and spreading contraband from rebel group to rebel group. Plutarch keeps you busy. Most nights, you don’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time, any rest caught in brief snatches between train rides. If you ever had a home, it’s no more than a memory now. You don’t stay in any place long enough to remember it. You’re certain Peacekeepers have been following you for days now, but maybe you just can’t tell the difference between the white-armored soldiers in every district.

You’re stopping by the rebel headquarters in the Capitol to bring news of the developments in Thirteen when Plutarch asks you to stay a while longer. You assume he wants you to take on another project, but instead he tells you that Cato has woken up. He couldn’t risk mentioning it through the usual comms, but he remembers his promise just as you’ve remembered yours.

You fly down the stairs to the med center, flying around the corners until you’re back in the care unit. The blue glass cell is gone, replaced by a hospital bed. A patient is sitting up and arguing with one of the doctors. You notice he’s been cuffed to the rail of the bed, and can’t help a small smile. That’s your Cato, isn’t it? Always a fighter.

He falls silent when you enter, eyes wide. For a moment, you wonder if the healing damaged his brain, if he might not remember you, if anything would ever be the same, and then a tentative hope enters his voice as he says, “Y/N?”

You’re across the room in a moment, and then you’re in his arms again, and maybe everything will be okay again. His free hand, the one that isn’t cuffed to the bed, is pressed against your back, drawing you ever closer to him.

“Y/N,” he says in a choked whisper, “Y/N, I died.”

“No,” you murmur, drawing back so you can see his face. It’s the same face, somehow. Still him. Still Cato. “They brought you back. You’re going to be okay.”

“How is that possible?” Cato asks, raising his free hand to touch your face lightly as if he can’t believe it’s you.

“Don’t ask me,” you chuckle weakly. “All I know is that you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Cato glances warily at the doctors, then returns his gaze to you. He looks more carefully now, taking in the hollows under your eyes, the scars and scrapes on your arms. “What have you done, Y/N? What did they make you do?”

You choke on a laugh before you can stop yourself. “The star tribute is asking me what I did? I haven’t been in the Games, Cato. I’m not the one who signed themselves up to die.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he says. “You’ve got– you look like us now.”

Dully, you realize what he means. There’s a sort of innocence in the faces of people who haven’t had to take a life. Even the hardiest of the careers still have it if they haven’t been in the Games. Cato sees it now in you. The last year has destroyed you.

You let out a slow breath, taking his hand in yours. “Losing you destroyed me, Cato. I had to do what I could.”

Cato looks around the room again, his hunter’s eyes taking in the details of the workers, the sparse decoration of the room. “We’re not with the Capitol anymore, are we?”

“No,” you admit, “we’re not.”

Something savage twists his face. “Good.”

You weren’t sure how he would take the news that you were working with the rebels, but surprisingly, Cato is in favor. He’s mad about what they did to secure Katniss’ victory. The whole point of the Games was that the strongest would win, he says, but they interfered. All that hard work to get to the Games, and then the Makers cheated him out of it.

What Cato doesn’t realize is how deeply entrenched you are in the workings of the Rebels. Cato isn’t allowed to go back to normal, obviously, Panem thinks he’s dead, but he hadn’t counted on you joining him in that fate. They find Cato a place in Thirteen where he can help train the soldiers; it’s good for him to stay busy, and he tries to work his body to the limits so exhaustion will fight off the nightmares of dying for him, but Cato wants you there with him.

Only, that isn’t the case. Plutarch didn’t give you Cato back so you could stop working with the rebellion. If anything, it makes you work even harder. Now that you have Cato, you finally have the brief, glimmering hope of a better life, but you won’t get it if the Capitol still exists.

By now, you’ve been clued in to Plutarch’s master plan for the Games. The rules for the Quarter Quell were announced a few days ago. The dominoes have started to fall. All that’s left to do is make sure the ruin runs where you want it.

Cato doesn’t see it that way. Every time you’re at Thirteen, you make time to see your boyfriend, but it’s never enough. It never will be, not until the Capitol is gone, not until the war is over. For Cato, though, he’s already died. He wants to stop running.

You’re with him now, tucked into his arms on his bunk with your back up against his chest, pretending that you won’t have to leave again in just a few hours. He’s tracing absentminded circles on your forearms, and when he speaks, his breath buzzes against the top of your head.

“Stay with me,” he says. “They’re going to kill you if you keep this up. Stay here.”

“You know I can’t,” you sigh. “Not until it’s done.”

Cato blows out sharply, annoyed. “Let them die, not you. You’re better than that.”

“All our deaths are the same,” you contradict. “Might as well be me.”

Cato’s grip around you tightens possessively. “I’d let all of them die before you.”

You shift slightly so you can look up at him. He’s frustrated again, jaw tight as he tries to control himself. “I have to do this. All of our work depends on the Games going in our favor. If we give up now, it was all for nothing. I can’t let that happen.”

Cato shakes his head tersely. “Promise me you won’t get hurt. Promise me you won’t die for them.”

The twisting guilt of deja vu curls around your stomach. You can’t help but remember a similar moment, a similar promise, almost a year ago exactly. You had said almost the same thing to Cato when he was talking about volunteering. At the time, it had seemed so easy. All Cato had to do was stay with you, and he would have been safe. But Cato had to go, it would have killed him not to go. And it’ll kill you to stay. Both of you know this. It doesn’t make it any easier.

You kiss him once, twice. For past and present. “I’ll see you soon.”

You won’t. You’ll be in the Capitol until after the Games at least, and although Plutarch has promised he’ll get you out with the rest, there’s always the small chance that it won’t work out.

Cato pulls you up in his arms so you’re eye to eye. “Soon,” he says.

“Soon,” you repeat. This close to him, you’re sure he can feel your pulse thundering in your veins, carrying with it the weight of this lie. He would know how to sense it, too. All that time in the arena, he’d know how to tell when someone was about to die.

Cato doesn’t want to let you go, but he has to, piece by piece, second by second, letting you go in the bed just to crawl off and hold you by the door, then walk you to the jet, then hold you again one last time before you’re taken away. You watch through the window as he shrinks away to nothingness, one arm still raised. You’ll see him again, or never at all.

Plutarch is waiting for you in the Capitol. “It’s time to play,” he says.

“It’s time to win,” you return. 

He smiles without meaning it and turns back to his screens. There’s a lot of data to get through. Some of the tributes you weren’t expecting, but you have who you need. Finnick knows, Johanna knows, but you can keep Katniss and Peeta in the dark for as long as possible.

Thus, the Games begin, and, electrifying as an arrow in the night, they end. You watch Katniss looking down her bow at Finnick, then turning her weapon towards the sky. Plutarch slips away from Snow long enough to get you, and the two of you hurry towards a transport that will take you back to Thirteen in the dead of night. Voices are hushed. The tributes get out, but not all of them. Peeta, you think, was left behind. Johanna too. Still, it’s a better collection than you’d hoped.

And, when the jet docks in Thirteen, there’s someone waiting for you in the hangar, your golden boy. Cato comes running over before the landing gear is even fully tucked away. He waits, impatient as a coiled spring, while the doors open, and then he’s rushing inside and pulling you into his arms.

“No more separation,” he says against your temple. “We fight together now.”

“Together,” you whisper back, and you mean it, too. 

Whatever happens after this, the cards are all on the table. Cato can come back to the public eye. You’ll fight in the war side by side. If you die before the rebellion wins, you’ll do it together. Some would call that tragic, but all of this is a tragedy. At least you’ll have him. Two is gone to you, so too is any dream of normalcy, but Cato– Cato, you will always have. That, at least, is your victory.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife, @supervoldejaygent

[imaginestuffs]

Love Letter Confessions- Eddie Munson x Reader

word count:6,068

warnings: just fluff, she/her pronouns are used. language.

Summary: Robin and Steve finally convince the reader to reveal her feelings for Eddie after months of them pushing her. She decides the best way for her to confess is through a letter, and see if he can figure out who it's from.

(gif not mine!)

Robin Buckley was your best friend, and honestly, that wasn’t always a great thing. Especially when she would nag you about telling Eddie that you loved him. Today was no different as you sat on the counter of Family Video, none of you wanting to be there but needing the money. It didn’t help that Steve was there to accompany her pushing. “You need to tell him, (y/n),” Robin said from the Romance section. You rolled your eyes. “Robin, I’ve already told you that I can’t,” you said. “And why is that again?” you heard Steve ask from behind you. “Because he wouldn’t reciprocate those feelings. I just know it. I mean we’re practically polar opposites,” you told them. “That’s why you would work so well,” Robin said and poked her head around the corner. “Not gonna lie here, I think you and Munson would be good together,” Steve said and you turned to look at him. “First of all, that’s crazy, and second I don’t understand why you guys want me to be too embarrassed to ever show my face again,” you said and hopped off of the counter. “Do you even realize how he acts around you? He’s sickeningly sweet around you. It makes me want to vomit,” You heard Robin say. “He’s just being nice like any normal person would be,” you said and walked behind the counter to shove Steve away from the computer so you could do inventory. He threw his hands in the air and sighed. “You know, I was doing that,” he said and you nodded. “I’m well aware, but you mess up most of the time and then Keith gets upset so I have to fix it,” you told him, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“You’re trying to change the subject, and it won’t work,” Robin called again and you pinched the bridge of your nose. You had begun to have enough of her giving you crap about this for months and so you decided to make it stop. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it, but I’ll do it my way. Now will you please shut the fuck up?” you huffed. Robin walked out of the section she was organizing with a victorious grin. “I knew it’d work,” she said and you shook your head. “Hey, you’ll be fine, and if something happens we’re here for you ok,” Steve said and laid a hand on your shoulder. You turned back to look at him with a small smile. “Thanks, Steve,” you said. “Of course,” He said and quickly kissed your head. When the inventory was finished it was just about your time to clock out. You sighed in relief, “Thank God,” you muttered as you clocked out and went to grab your things from the back. “You leaving already?” Robin asked. “Yup, I’ll see you tomorrow ok,” you said and walked past her but not without kissing her cheek. You passed by Steve on the way out and kissed his cheek as well. “Love you guys,” you tossed at them and they both just chuckled. “Love you too,” they called. 

“Do you think she’s gonna tell him?” Steve asked. “I have a good feeling,” Robin answered with a smile on her face. “Now c’mon let’s bore ourselves to death with mundane tasks,” She said and Steve sighed. 

The whole drive home was filled with you rattling off random ways to tell Eddie that you loved him. “This is so fucked up,” you said and sighed as you pulled into your driveway. 

You quickly walked into your home and greeted your parents before heading to your room. You walked in and set your bag down before flopping onto the bed with a groan. “Why does this have to be so difficult?” you asked yourself. 

“It’s just confessing your love to the cutest, coolest, and honestly the sweetest person you’d ever met. No reason to be scared at all, that wouldn’t ruin the friendship you have with him,” your voice was muffled by your pillow. You lifted yourself up into a sitting position on your bed and just felt like you couldn’t move. Your eyes caught sight of your notebook on your desk and it sparked an idea. You moved from your spot and sat at your desk, the yellow glow from the lamp illuminated the journal in front of you. You grabbed a pen and sighed heavily as you stared at the page. “Ok, ok, just spill it. You get this one chance, just do it,” you tried to motivate yourself. 

Before you knew it your hand began to move as your words floated across the page. It all seemed to happen in a blur. When you finished you tore out the page and placed it in an envelope with his name on it, daring to place a small heart next to it. You smiled triumphantly as you looked down at the small letter in your hands, now all you had to do was slip it into his locker. Which would be an easy feat seeing as he usually showed up late so you could do it before classes started. 

You went to sleep that night feeling nervous but nonetheless a little bit excited. When you woke up you saw that you had a bit more time than usual so you slipped the letter from the envelope before you fully sealed it. You wanted to make sure you were happy with it. You read it over and over again and tried to decide whether to leave just your initials or your full name. You decided to leave your initials so that even if he didn’t figure out it was you he would at least know. 

You heard a horn honk from outside and grabbed your bag before heading out the door. You opened the back door to Steve’s BMW and greeted your friends. “Hey guys,” you said and shut the door. “So, are you nervous?” was the first thing that came out of Robin’s mouth. “Are you kidding me? That’s the first thing you say?” you asked with a sigh. “Well, are you?” Steve asked this time. “Ok, fine, just a little bit. I told you I’m gonna do it my way so that makes it a little less nerve-wracking,” you told them. “Oh, and what is your way?” Robin asked and turned to you with a raised brow. You waved the letter in front of her. “Aw that’s so cute, a love letter,” Robin said, and you rolled your eyes. “You wrote Munson a love letter?!” Steve asked in shock. “It’s not a love letter ok. I just told him how I felt, that’s all,” you said and stuffed the letter back in your bag. “That’s definitely classified as a love letter,” He said. “Oh, shut up,” you said and tugged a tendril of his hair. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t touch,” he said. You and Robin laughed as he scowled at you. 

You arrived at the school and swiftly made your way out of the car. “Bye, Stevie, see you later,” you said and playfully blew him a kiss. He rolled his eyes. “Bye guys,” he said before driving away. “When are you going to give it to him?” Robin asked like an excited puppy. “You’ll just have to wait,” you said and nudged her playfully. She sighed, “You’re really not gonna tell me?” she asked exasperatedly. “Nope,” you said and split off from her to go to your locker. She went to hers, and while you had the chance you snuck over to Eddie’s to slip the letter into it. You felt your heart pound and your stomach turn as you quickly made your way to class. 

Your heart felt like it was going to give out as you sat down next to Nancy whom you shared your first class with. Your hands were shaking as you got out your pencil and flipped to the right page in your notebook. “Are you ok?” You heard Nancy ask and you turned to look at her. You nodded your head, “Yeah, I’ll tell you what happened later,” you told her and she looked at you in curiosity. “Is it bad?” she asked. “Depends on what the outcome will be,” you said and tried to give her your best smile. She raised her brow and just before she could ask another question the teacher walked in. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and did your best to pay attention. 

All you could think about was how things would end. It could end in bliss or utter tragedy, and you were doing your best to cling to the former. Though you didn’t want to get your hopes up, plus you knew he might not know it was you. Although he’s most definitely smart enough to figure it out, and that was what you were scared of. 

The class ended and you gathered your things before walking out with Nancy. “So are you gonna tell me?” she asked with a smile. “Ok, c’mere,” you said just as Robin walked over to you. You sighed heavily as she followed you to the bathroom. You locked the door behind you, “What’s going on?” Nancy asked. “She’s telling Eddie how she feels today,” Robin blurted out and you placed your head in your hands. “Robin,” you scolded. “Sorry,” she said. Nancy looked at you with a sly smile. “Finally, when are you gonna do it?” She asked. “I wrote a note and I slipped it into his locker before class,” you said as your cheeks burned. You shut your eyes and shook your head, realizing how silly it sounded. “You’re kidding me! You cop out!” Robin exclaimed. “Shut up Robin,” Nancy said and smacked her shoulder. “I didn’t know how else to do it, I got scared last night so I decided to do it that way,” you said and wrung your hands nervously. 

“It’s not a cop-out, at least I’m telling him,” you shot back at Robin. “How did you sign it?” Nancy asked. “I might’ve just put my initials,” you said and screwed your eyes shut. “(y/n), what? He might not even know it’s you,” Nancy said in shock. “I know, I know, but he’s smart enough to figure it out I’m sure,” you tried to rationalize it. “Are you sure?” Robin asked. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yes, Robin. I’m sure, he’s much smarter than you may think,” you said and sighed. “Whatever you say, but I’m giving him hints,” she said and your eyes widened. “No, no you’re not,” you said eagerly. “C’mon we can drop small hints here and there,” Nancy said, trying to convince you that it was ok. “Whatever, I know I can’t stop you. So, fine, do what you want just don't outright say it ok?” you asked tiredly. “Deal,” They both said. 

You unlocked the door and walked out. Just across the hall was Eddie’s locker and there he stood with your letter in hand. You stopped in your tracks, and the girls looked at you strangely. They looked in the direction you were looking and smirked. 

“I have to go,” you said and tried to move away but Robin kept you in place. “We have to see his reaction to it,” She said quietly. “You can do that by yourselves,” you said and went to walk away again. “Fine, but we’re telling you all about it at lunch,” Nancy said and you sighed before practically jogging away. 

“He looks confused,” Robin said and Nancy chuckled. “Yeah, he kind of does,” she said as they tried to inconspicuously watch him. As soon as the confusion came it went and was replaced by a small smile. He let out a soft laugh before slipping the note into his pocket. “Oh my gosh, he’s keeping it,” Robin said excitedly as she grabbed Nancy's arm. “Do you think he’ll figure it out?” Robin asked Nancy, “I don’t have a doubt honestly,” Nancy replied. “Really?” Robin asked as they walked down the hall to their next class. “He’ll figure it out quick, especially with how she’ll act around him,” She said and Robin nodded. “True,” she agreed. “I can’t wait to tell her he kept it,” Robin said before they both entered the classroom. 

----

Eddie walked into school that day no later than usual. And as usual, he looked forward to seeing you in the few classes you shared. See he had had a crush on you for about a year and was just too scared to tell you how he felt. He thought you were too good for him, and honestly believed you’d never see him that way. 

He got to his locker as students began to flood the halls after the first period. He sighed as he opened his locker already ready to see you and ditch. He knew he couldn’t though especially since he needed to graduate this year. 

He noticed a piece of paper flutter out of the locker and onto the floor. His brows furrowed in confusion as he picked it up. His confusion furthered as he saw his name on the envelope accompanied by a heart. “What the hell is this?” he muttered to himself as he turned it over to open it. 

The envelope was finally unsealed and he reached for its contents. He pulled the letter out and unfolded it. Your neat handwriting was splayed across the page. 

“Dear Eddie,

I know this is a bit weird, but I think you’re so cute and cool by the way. You’ve always been so sweet to me, and I’ve kind of loved you for forever. I’m not sure when it happened, but one day I looked at you and it felt like everything fell into place. You’re not a freak, you just stand out in the best way possible and I just thought you should know that I think you’re really special and you should too. See you around,

Love, (f/i) (l/i).” 

His eyes brightened as he read your words, and he felt his chest grow warm at the sweet confession. 

He glanced around the halls trying to find a glimpse of who wrote it. He had no idea where you were and it honestly made him giddy. He couldn’t wait to find you, of course, he read your initials and was mentally ticking people off his list of who he knew. 

He reread the note over again and let out a soft laugh before shaking his head and slipping the paper into his pocket.

He thought the handwriting looked familiar but he couldn’t place the name. Little did he know, he had a handful of the notes you wrote for him from your English Lit class that he tended to ditch more often than not. 

---

You walked into the cafeteria, your eyes falling on Eddie and a blush blossomed on your cheeks.

Eddie felt eyes on him and looked over to see your soft gaze on him. He smiled and waved at you, your eyes widened and you smiled back before sending him a wave too. 

He thought you looked adorable. 

You wore a green and blue striped turtle neck, your light wash jeans that you had painted flowers on the back pockets of and your favorite pair of converse. You had your signature butterfly necklace on and your grandmother’s ring she had given you on your first day of high school. You wore it every day since then and now you were a senior. 

He watched you turn away and smiled at the flowers on your back pockets, before he could stop himself he spoke up. “Hey, (y/n)!” he called loud enough for you to hear. Your head whipped around and you noticed him waving you over. You turned to look at Nancy and Robin in a panic. They smiled and waved you off excitedly. 

You quietly made your way through the crowds and finally approached the table. “Hi, guys,” you said softly. Eddie smiled at you and patted the seat next to him. “You wanna sit?” he asked. “Um, yeah sure,” you said nervously and seated yourself next to him. “How is the lovely lady today?” He asked with a big grin. You blushed and looked away. “I’m just fine, how are you?” you asked and looked up at him. “I’m doing great right now, thanks for asking Sweetheart,” he said happily. “You seem extra happy today,” you said silently hoping it was because of your letter. “Well, I found a lovely note in my locker this morning, and I am dying to figure out who it’s from,” he admitted to you. “Oh really, that’s cool, I hope you find out who wrote it,” you said and drew patterns on the tabletop. “You ok?” he asked and reached a hand up to brush the hair away from your face. You felt your heart stop and your breath hitch in your throat. “Yeah-yeah, no I’m-I’m fine,” you stuttered over your words. “You can talk to me,” he said and you could see the earnestness in his brown eyes. “I’m ok, I promise,” you said with a small smile. 

“Do you want to see it? Maybe you can help me figure out who it is?” he asked and you felt your stomach turn. “Oh, um, ok,” you agreed and sat up a bit. He grinned widely and took the note from his pocket and handed it over to you. You unfolded it and reread what you had written. You fought the urge to cringe at what you had written. Though you saw it this morning it seemed a little more cringy now that he had seen it. “See the initials, I’m still trying to work through people I know,” he said as he watched your expression closely. You let out a soft laugh, well whoever it is definitely likes you don’t they?” you asked nervously. “Apparently so,” he said and shrugged a bit. 

He looked at you and suddenly something clicked in his mind. Was he really that dense? He looked at the initials and looked back at you. You, of course, had the same initials. “Can you think of anyone?” he asked, curious as to if you would admit it was you. He knew that handwriting. It was yours, he remembered how you interchanged cursive and print. 

“I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head right now, but if I think of someone I’ll let you know,” you said and handed the letter back,” he sighed slightly. “Alright, well thanks,” he said and you smiled softly and gave him a nod. “Huh, you have the same first initial,” he said, trying to coax it out of you. He noticed you freeze up a bit and he tried to bite back a smile. Before anything could be said the bell rang. He saw you let out a sigh as you grabbed your things. “Hey, wait up. We can walk to class together,” he said and stood up with you. “Oh-oh, ok,” you said nervously and he smiled brightly at you. You couldn’t help but smile back, his joy just seemed to be contagious and that was one of the many things you loved about him. 

 Before you could pick up your bag he had it in his hand. “I’ll carry this for you,” he said. “You really don’t have to,” you said, a blush still ever-present on your cheeks. “I want to,” he said and tossed an arm around your shoulder. You felt a heat pool in your chest as the weight of his arm draped around your shoulders. It was a comforting weight, and you couldn’t help but lean into it. He noticed you relaxed and smiled down at you. “Thank you,” you said and looked up at him with a small grateful smile on your face. 

“Do you need a ride home today?” he asked and you felt your heart hammer against your chest. “You don’t have to, I can just catch a ride with Robin and Nancy,” you said. “Doesn’t Robin have to go to work, and Nancy usually stays for the paper right?” he asked and you cursed in your mind. “Right yeah, slipped my mind,” you said and tried to laugh it off. “No pressure ok,” he said and you just nodded. You thought of what Nancy and Robin would say and you decided that you were just gonna do it. “I would appreciate it,” you said and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Then it’s settled, I promise I’ll get you home safe and sound,” he said and you shook your head with a small laugh. “I didn’t have a doubt that you would,” you said and felt him squeeze your shoulders. You were just lucky that you had the day off.

You walked into the classroom and went to take your seats in the back as usual. “Don’t think I’ve been this early to this class,” he admitted and you laughed. “Well there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?” you asked and looked over at him to see he was already looking at you. “Yeah, I guess there is,” he said. 

The class had begun and you would whisper to each other now and then. He would make quiet jokes and you would have to hide a giggle behind your hand. In some weird way, you felt closer to him that day. You didn’t know if it was because you finally confessed or because he was making even more of an effort to get you out of your shell. 

Suddenly a note was slid onto your desk and you smiled when you saw the messy script. 

“Are you bored?” it asked and you smiled in amusement. “In this class? Always,” you wrote back and sent it over to him. He looked at the note and looked at your handwriting and immediately it was confirmed for him. The note was from you. 

He chuckled softly. “What’s your favorite flower?” he wrote down. You almost let out a laugh at the question he already knew the answer to. “It’s (y/f/f). I thought you knew that?” you wrote back. He smiled. “Oh, I did. Just thought I’d make sure,” he said and mentally cheered that his memory was correct. He made sure to store that away for later. He had an idea, and would it take him ditching a class or two? Yes, but for you, it was worth it.

The class ended and you gathered your things. Once again Eddie took your bag for you and tossed his arm around your shoulders. “You almost made me laugh way too loud, you know that right? I could’ve gotten in trouble,” you said and playfully smacked his chest. He laughed and tossed his head back. 

You admired him and it seemed that a never ceasing smile had made its way to your face. “I just love your laugh so much,” he said and you blushed brightly. “C’mon, don’t joke around,” you said with a small smile. “I’m not joking. I could listen to it for the rest of my life,” he said and you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

“Don’t seem so surprised, you have a nice laugh,” he said and you just leaned into him. He rubbed his hand up and down your arm. 

You got to your English Lit class and he handed your bag over to you. “I’m ditching the last 2 classes you wanna come?” he asked with a mischievous grin. You shook your head and laughed. “I think I’ll stay Eds, I’ll take notes for you though ok?” you said and smiled at him. “Thanks, you really are the best,” he said and you chuckled again. “I try,” you said and he laughed. “I’ll see you after school ok,” he said and you nodded. Feeling emboldened by your time with him you wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He was startled for a few seconds before reciprocating. He could smell your perfume, and your shampoo smelled of Eucalyptus and spearmint. He held you for a few more seconds before you let go. “Bye, Eds,” you said and waved before walking into the classroom. 

He stood outside the classroom for a few more seconds with a big grin and soft blush on his cheeks. He never thought he would get to experience this, but it was happening and he was damn sure he was gonna make it permanent. 

He made his way out the doors and to his van as quickly as possible. The destination he set was for Bradley’s Big Buy. He remembered that they sold flowers there and he was determined to find your favorite flower. He would go anywhere to find it before school let out. 

He scrambled out of the car and into the store immediately making his way to the flowers. He looked everywhere for them, even asked for help but they weren’t there. He sighed and dragged a hand down his face in frustration. 

“You could probably find them at the flower shop around the corner honey,”  the kind older woman told him. He looked at her with hope in his eyes. “Really?” he asked. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said with a smile. “Thank you so much,” he said in a rush as he headed for the exit. 

Making his way to the van he checked his watch to see that he had about 20 minutes until he had to be back at the school. “Shit, this better be quick,” he mumbled as he put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. He did as he was told and went around the corner, keeping his eye out for the little shop. He saw the sign and quickly parked. 

He entered the shop and was immediately hit with the scent of all things floral. Roses, tulips, chrysanthemums, and lilies. Everywhere he looked there were bunches and bouquets of flowers. He sighed heavily before deciding it was best to ask the woman at the counter. 

He stood out in the midst of all the flowers, and it was almost funny. The woman looked at him and smiled, “Hi, may I help you?” she asked. “Um, Yeah. I was-uh-I was wondering if you guys have (y/f/f)’s?” He asked a bit awkwardly. She smiled under the impression he was, of course, asking for a girl. 

“We do, they’re right over here. Would you like help choosing?” she asked nicely, maneuvering around the counter to guide him. 

“That would be great honestly,” he answered and she let out a soft laugh. 

She walked him through all of the different selections and arrangements. There on the second shelf was a small bouquet with a perfect ratio of (y/f/f) and other ones he didn’t know the names of. The woman saw him staring at it and smiled brightly. “Do you want that one?” she asked and picked it up. “It’s perfect, for her,” he mumbles under his breath, and the woman swears she felt her heart melt. She remembered what it felt like when she was first with her husband. 

She could see the look in his eyes and it reminded her of how she looked at her husband even now after all these years. 

“You can have them,” she said with a large smile on her face. “What?” he asked in surprise. “You can have them. Free of charge. I remember what it’s like to fall in love. I’m sure she’ll love them,” she said and he looked at her with wide eyes. A grateful smile graced his lips, “Thank you so much, really. I appreciate it,” he said and she waved him off. “No need to thank me, no why don’t you go give them to her,” she said and handed them over to him. He took them and admired them for a few seconds. He looked at his watch and saw that he had about 5 minutes to get back to the school. He waved at the woman and thanked her once again before rushing out of the shop. 

Eddie scrambled to his locker to find a piece of paper. He found a barely used notebook and grabbed a pen. He quickly scribbled what he wanted to say on the paper before slipping it into your locker and going to wait out in the parking lot for you. 

You stepped out of the classroom, letting out a sigh of relief at the fact that it was the end of the day. You walked to your locker and put in the combination. The door swung open and out slipped a piece of paper. Your eyes followed it as it fell to the floor and you swiftly bent down to pick it up. It was folded up and had your name on the front with a messily drawn heart next to it. Your breath hitched in your throat as you came to the realization that Eddie must have figured it out. You felt your heart hammer against your chest as you unfolded the lined paper. 

“Dear (y/n),

I’m not great with words, but I thought that if we’re confessing right now, then I might as well write a letter too. I think that you’re beautiful and so smart. You, Sweetheart, have captured this heart and honestly, I can’t remember a time that I didn’t love you. And if it’s ok with you, I’d like to love for as long as you’ll let me. 

I’ll see you after class,

-Eddie”

You read the note with a big smile on your face You chuckled and shook your head, he really was the sweetest. You never could understand why he underestimated himself because he was one of the smartest people you’d ever met. And contrary to his belief he was better with words than you’d ever be.

 A giddiness built up in your chest at the thought of him returning your feelings. Grabbing what you needed from your locker you closed it up again and took a deep breath before heading to the exit. The letter sat in your flower-covered pocket. Robin and Nancy walked over to you. “We haven’t seen you all day, what’s going on?” Robin asked. “I’ll tell you guys later tonight, I’ve got to go,” you said and gave them a wave and a big smile as you walked out the doors. They looked at each other and nodded both agreeing that they needed to see what was going on. They followed you to the doors and mingled amongst the fleeting crowds of students. They watched as you quickly made your way across the parking lot. Eddie leaned against his van with a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. “Oh my god,” Robin breathed out. “It worked,” Nancy said with a smile growing on her face. “I can’t wait to tell Steve,” Robin said and let out a chuckle. 

Your head was down, trying to hide the blush on your aching cheeks, hurting from smiling so much. You looked up to see him smiling at you, he could tell you were blushing and it made him smile more. You stopped in front of him and he could tell how happy you were, and it warmed his heart that he could make you feel that way. 

“Hey Sweetheart,” he said, “Hey Eds,” you said and he chuckled at how shy you were being. “I got these for you, I know you like (y/f/f) so I thought you might want some,” he said and you laughed softly. “I love them, thank you,” you said and took them from him holding them close to your heart. “When did you figure it out?” you asked slowly becoming more comfortable than shy. “Lunch, plus I remembered your handwriting switching from print to cursive in the middle of words,” he said and you shut your eyes and shook your head. “I have got to get that under control,” you said to yourself and he laughed. “I don’t know, I think it’s pretty cute,” he said and you giggled. “It’s really special,” he spoke again and you smiled. You remembered what you had written. “Yeah, well, as you know I think you’re pretty special,” you said and tapped him on the chest with flowers. “Just so you know, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who thinks I’m cool,” he told you and you shook your head. “No way, the boys think you’re the coolest person alive, I swear,” you said and chuckled. “Sure,” he said sarcastically and looked away fighting a grin. 

“I’m very sure,” you said and tilted your head and raised a brow. “Very sure?” he asked and took a step closer to you. “Very, very sure,” you said softly and looked up at him. “Well, I’m very very sure that you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” he said and reached his hand up to push your hair away from your face. He took the flowers from your hand and set them on the hood. Turning back to you he tentatively placed his hands on your waist, giving you space to pull away. 

You did the exact opposite and stepped forward and softly placed your hands on his face. He smiled down at you and held you tighter. Leaning down he stopped just before letting his lips touch yours. “I love you by the way,” he whispered before placing his lips on yours. You smiled into the kiss before completely melting into it. You let your hand move from his face to the back of his neck lightly pulling him closer. You could feel his arms wind around you and his curls softly tickled your cheeks. He pulled away slightly and smiled down at you, “If you couldn’t tell. I love you too,” you breathed out and he let out a breathless chuckle. “I think I may need one more kiss to believe you,” he smirked at you and you rolled your eyes before bringing him back into a short-lived but oh-so-sweet kiss. He gently lifted you off of your feet, you let out a surprised yelp and held onto him tightly. You chuckled when he set you down and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“I think we have stalkers,” he whispered to you and your brows furrowed. He pointed behind you and you turned around to see Robin and Nancy staring. They realized they had been caught and tried to look away but it was too late. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “of course, it’s them. They’re so nosey,” you shook your head. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.  “I think they just care,” he said and you smiled over at him. “Sometimes they go a bit overboard, but I love them,” you said and rested your forehead against his temple. You glanced to the side and noticed the boys looking too. “Looks like we’ve got some stalkers,” you joked and he turned to see the boys looking. He flipped them off and you chuckled. “You love them,” you said and kissed his cheek. “They can’t know that,” he joked and you chuckled. “But they definitely do,” you teased and he poked your side. You jumped and he laughed. “You’re probably right, but not as much as I love you,” he said and you smiled brightly. “I love you too Eds,” you said and he kissed your head. “How about we go and watch some movies at my place?” he asked and you nodded. “That sounds great,” you said and you grabbed the flowers before he opened the door for you. “Can we kiss at stoplights?” he asked with a sly grin. “If you put on your seatbelt, then yes, yes we can,” you said and he sighed. “Alright, I’ll obey the law. Just for you,” he said and buckled his seatbelt. You laughed and he admired you with your eyes closed and your head was thrown back. “Every stoplight?” he asked and you chuckled again. “Every stoplight,” you confirmed and picked up his hand to kiss it. 

And as promised you kissed at every stoplight. 

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Hi darling. I would love to help you with inspiration and with a request if you feel like writing it. So could I please ask for a prompt with this “You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to be your boy/girl-friend to get your parents off you’re back.” and Harrington!Reader & Eddie Munson. I just chosea pairing from the poll that I feel would work perfectly. Especially if it's a family dinner and Steve is also looking for a fake date for it. Thank you

OMG YES! I love this so much! 😂 I also think it fits perfectly!

"Eddie, please!" you begged, giving him your best puppy eyes as you followed him down the hall.

"Nope! There's no way I'm doing this, Harrington!"

"But... you owe me!"

“I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off you’re back!” he chuckled once he finally stopped at his locker with you by his side.

"Come on, it's only for one night and you'll get a free dinner and there's free booze" you tried to convince him. You knew it was working when he raised his eyebrow and turned to look at you.

"Why?" he asked all of the sudden.

"Huh? W-why what?"

"Why me?" he asked, resting against his now-closed locker. "You could ask anyone else" he told you.

"Well... because you owe me $20-"

"Princess, we have been friends for a very long time now. I know when you're hiding something" he smirked. "Tell me why me and then I might just say yes" he offered and you sighed frustrated.

"Fine, I'll tell you but... you have to promise me you won't get mad" you told him.

"I'm your best friend, of course, I will get mad" he said, making you glare at him.

"Okay, well... you know that Steve and I don't really get along with our parents, right?" you started and Eddie nodded. "Well, since they're rarely here, whenever they are and they throw these stupid big dinner parties, Steve and I have a... bet" you said, looking away.

"A bet?"

"Yeah, we always bet who could get the date that would well, bother them the most" you said looking back at him. "Steve has beaten me every single time!"

"So... you think that I'll make you win?"

"Are you kidding? With your long hair, your tattoos, and the whole metal look? There is no way I lose this year!" you said, making him laugh and you smiled relieved.

"Anything else?"

"Well, if I'm being honest, you're probably the only person that would make the night tolerable" you said, feeling your cheeks burn a little and he smiled sweetly at you.

"So all of this is to win a bet against your brother?"

"Yeah" you nodded.

"And piss off your parents?"

"Y-yes" you smiled hopefully at him. Eddie's grin got wither as he offered you his hand.

"You've got yourself a deal, princess" he said as you gladly took it, smiling back at him.

[bookishgirl04]

Well, now I need the sequel where reader just admits that she only wanted him as a date because likes him and was afraid of getting friendzoned 🙈

[iwritefandomimagines]

FIRST AND LAST — PRINCE FRIEDRICH

masterlist

pairing: prince friedrich x reader

description: it has been tradition all season long that prince friedrich occupies your first and last dance of every evening. it is well known that his engagement is looming, so no man dares ask to take these dances from him. that is, until one clueless lord makes that awkward mistake.

warnings: pure fluff, tiny bit of jealousy from my sweet prince, but predominantly pure, tooth-rotting fluff !

“The season is almost over,” Daphne Bridgerton hummed, flitting her fan across her chest as you stood at the edge of the ballroom, “Do you think the prince might propose this evening?”

You laughed, watching as the prince eyed you from across the floor despite dancing with another young lady.

“I hope so,” you replied, pure happiness in your tone as you thought of the future you had discussed so extensively with the man who had won your heart with such ease, “Though he himself requested a long courtship. Oh, Daph, you should’ve heard him. He told me he was certain he was falling in love with me and wished to wed, but that he wanted to prolong our courtship to ensure I too was certain.”

“Gosh, Y/N, how romantic,” Daphne grinned.

“He is absolutely a dream,” you fanned yourself now too, growing flushed at the thought of just how deeply your feelings for the Prussian prince ran, “I of course told him I feel the same regardless, but he said that though he’d wed me in a heartbeat, it was fun to pretend we were still in the early stages of courting. And of course, I save every first and last dance for him and only him.”

Daphne was swooning at the prospect, and given her confusing situation regarding her ruse with the Duke, their sudden marriage, and how in love they quite clearly were, you were unsurprised that she was so excited to hear that your blossoming relationship was thriving so.

“Speaking of which, my dear friend,” she lifted your dance card from your wrist to see that as ever Prince Friedrich’s name graced the bottom of your card, “It appears you have danced with all others.”

As you looked away from her, you saw the prince smile in your direction, sending your heart into an absolute frenzy, “He appears to be on his way over!”

Before he could cross the floor, however, a gentleman you barely recognised obscured your view of the man you loved, stepping directly in front of you with a smile on his face.

“Lady Y/N,” the man bowed, “I am Lord Francis. I apologise for never making your acquaintance sooner, for my work and travels delayed my arrival in the Ton,” he took your hand to kiss its back, and as he leaned to do so you saw the prince behind him with a frown on his face, now mere meters away, “You are truly a diamond, and I should most certainly wish to know you more. You cannot imagine my relief upon seeing that you were yet unbetrothed. Might I have your next dance, my lady?”

You swallowed thickly, looking to Daphne for help but finding that she had slipped away amidst his little speech.

You were tempted to scoff at the man’s audacity to so abruptly ask of a dance at the end of the evening when he had chosen so late in the hall to introduce himself. And, of course, you were entirely uninterested.

Before you had the opportunity to respond, however, Prince Friedrich was at the man’s side.

“Ah, Lady Y/N,” he bowed, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it that lingered as he looked up at you and made you swoon, “Each time I see you in that necklace I am reminded why I selected it for you. It was made for you, to be sure.”

You giggled shyly, both feeling giddy around the man you loved and at the clear reason for his choice of words. He was here to assert his place, jealousy coursing through his royal blood.

“Oh your highness,” you curtsied, “Thank you again for the beautiful gift. I was wondering when you might return to share my last dance, as always. I do so look forward to it,” you flashed your dance card to the rather impertinent Lord Francis with a falsified frown, “I do apologise, my lord, but I have not yet shared my final dance with anyone but the Prince. And I do not wish to change that tradition.”

The gentleman scampered away without another word, leaving the prince to capture you in his arms and lead you to the dance floor.

“I am certainly glad to be rid of that fool,” he grumbled, and you reached up to run your thumb along his cheekbone soothingly, internally frustrated that the action would end up in Lady Whistledown’s writings the next day.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Oh my love, you needn’t worry. You know that if I could I would dance only with you the entire night.”

The prince was more than satisfied with this, a broad smile gracing his strong features as you continued the rhythm of the waltz you found yourself in.

“I am pleased to hear that, to be sure,” he beamed, “And once this dance is through, I hoped we might have a moment to talk. Perhaps on the balcony?”

You nodded softly, “Any moment with you, I could never deny myself.”

He smiled, and as the dance drew to a close you found yourself growing nervous.

Had this small moment of jealousy spurred on a proposal? Or perhaps he had always intended to propose tonight?

Perhaps it was not a proposal at all, and he just wished for some fresh air and a chance to chatter away from the eyes and ears of the ballroom?

You caught Daphne’s eye as you followed the prince outside, noticing her eyes widen in excitement as she too expected you to return to the ballroom engaged.

You bit your lip, allowing yourself to share her excitement for just a moment before nerves slipped into your mind again.

You reached the balcony after what felt like hours, with time seeming to progress in slow motion as you waited to hear what it was the prince wished to discuss.

“My dearest Lady Y/N,” he began, capturing both of your hands in his as his eyes twinkled down at you in the moonlight, “You must know that since we met, you have been the sun around which I revolve. You captured my heart the very moment I first saw you, and with every discussion of a future I have grown more certain that it is with you I wish to build a life, a home, a family,”

“Oh my dear prince,” you were certain you could taste blood, your heart pounding with anticipation as it truly sunk in just what was going on, “You must know that the feeling has always been entirely reciprocated. Every moment I have spent with you has been blissful, and I rather selfishly wish for an eternity of such moments.”

He shook his head, “It is not at all selfish, my dove. For it is what I wish for too. An eternity with the love of my life at my side, wherever we might find ourselves.”

You shared a brief moment of comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes as you could think about nothing but his gentle touch and romantic words.

He was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man, and now here he was professing that he too was enamoured by you.

Even though he had made it quite clear how he felt before, in this very second everything felt as though it fell perfectly into place.

The true love you always dreamed of finding but never expected to… He was right here, about to ask for your hand and sweep you off of your feet.

“It is for this very reason, my love,” he began again, keeping his hold of your left hand but dropping to his knee in a split second, “That I find myself desperate to ask — will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“My gosh!” you exclaimed, nodding excitedly as he slipped the most beautiful ring onto your finger and rose to his feet again, “I would love to. I can think of no future more exciting than one as your wife.”

He kissed your hand again, now peppering kisses around the ring he had just given you, sending sparks throughout your body at his delicate touch.

“I cannot wait to begin our life together properly, as man and wife,” he grinned, reaching to push a stray hair from your face as he spoke, “Free of meddlesome gentlemen who have no regard for one’s prior commitment.”

“My darling, you truly had no need to worry,” you giggled, lifting your free hand to your mouth to stifle it a little, “He could not hold a candle to you, and I would never have given up my dance with you for him. I wish always for my first and last dance to be with you… And every dance in between.”

He pulled you flush to his chest now, spinning you softly to the faint sound of the orchestral tune still playing in the ballroom.

“Then my every dance is yours, my love,” he hummed, discreetly pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he spun you around, “Always and forever.”

“I love you,” you were truly in a state of pure bliss as you danced, choosing to ignore that you were most certainly being watched, “More than I can ever express.”

“I love you as such also, my future princess,” he replied, pausing your dance just to look at you intently again for just a second before he spoke, “And I shall spend our whole life showing you.”

“I am so incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with you,” you shook your head in disbelief, still smiling up at him.

“It is I who is lucky,” he disagreed, looking up into the night sky littered with stars, “And the stars in the sky are lucky to every day be graced with your existence too.”

“You flatter me, my love.”

“And I intend to continue to remind you how wonderful you are, my dove,” he practically whispered, dipping his head lower so that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, though not close enough to induce any more scandal than your balcony dance might already have done.

“It’s a pleasure to be forever your first and last dance… And I can only hope to be your first and last love, if you would let me. For you most certainly shall be mine.”

“You shall be mine too, my love. I am certain of it.”

———

ok fluffy af because i am currently in looove with the prince and idk where it came from but i had to write this once i had the idea!!!

if you have any requests (right now preferably bridgerton, djats or criminal minds) then please feel free to send them in and i’ll make a start this week!

also pleaaase let me know in comments/reblogs what you think!

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[iwritefandomimagines]

MISUNDERSTANDING

masterlist

→ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

→ description: you and eddie munson have always hated eachother. but when the gang leave you in charge of watching over him while he hides out from the police, you learn that maybe all the tension had just been… misunderstood.

→ warnings: cursing, pg-13, alcohol consumption, sexual references, intense making out and sexual tension hehe!

“I can’t believe they’ve left me here babysitting you while they go off and do the important shit,” you huffed, arms crossed over your chest as you glared at Eddie Munson beside you, “Me!”

“Do you think I’m any more pleased about this situation than you are, princess?”

You groaned, “The smirk on your face would suggest that you enjoy torturing me with your presence, actually. And quit calling me that.”

The smirk on his face only grew as he took a swig of his beer, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as his eyes raked over your frame.

“The blush on your face every time I say it tells me you don’t actually want me to so no, princess, I’m not going to quit calling you that,” he beamed, his hot breath fanning on your face as he was closer to you now.

You scoffed, standing up to grab yourself another beer as he watched your every move.

“Oh, just how could you tell the effect you have on me?” your hand flew to your chest as sarcasm dripped from your words.

You leaned up over the counter to crack open your beer.

You turned around, lifting your drink to take a sip but instead being startled backwards as he had appeared right in front of you in the short time your back had been turned.

Your hand jolted, sending beer all over the two of you and the bottle smashing to the floor, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“Woah, woah,” Eddie stepped back, tugging your arm to pull you away from the shattered glass that had spread itself across the floor, “C’mere.”

You reluctantly followed him to the other side of the kitchen, “That was your fault, asshole. You scared the shit out of me!”

Eddie rolled his eyes as he picked up a discarded cloth, before eyeing up the wet spots on your t-shirt and holding out the cloth for you to dry it with, “Here.”

You looked down at your shirt — it was absolutely soaked through.

You could see Eddie still staring. Of course, your bra was basically on show and your shirt was a lost cause at this point.

He sighed, not another word spoken as he hoisted his shirt off his torso and threw it into your hands, “Just take mine til it dries, god,” he scoffed, clearly impatient at your irritated reaction to the minor inconvenience, “It’s dry. You just got beer all over my jeans.”

You contemplated his words for a moment, but as the scent of beer infiltrated your nostrils and the stickiness clung to your body, you groaned and accepted his offer.

He continued staring at you as you avoided looking at his bare torso, no matter how compelled you felt to look. Hey — you hated him, that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate that he was attractive.

“Well turn around then, moron!”

“Alright, alright!” he threw his hands up in defeat, turning around, but not without the same smirk painted on his face as he took in the crimson blush on your cheeks at him being half-naked.

You pulled your wet shirt off, mopping the beer from your tummy before pulling his shirt over your head quickly.

It was too big for you, and it stank of cheap cologne and cigarettes, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced and your legs clenched together at the fact all you could smell was him and he was stood in front of you completely shirtless.

“You know, if you took a picture, it might last longer, pretty girl.”

“Says you, staring at me in your shirt like you’re gonna… like you wanna fuck me in it.”

You had no idea where that boldness came from, but you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach as his eyes darkened at your words.

Besides, you weren’t wrong.

As soon as he’d turned and seen you in his shirt he was practically eye-fucking you.

He didn’t reply at first, stunned by your words as his shirt hung over the little shorts you were wearing so that it looked like you had nothing on underneath it.

“Now if you don’t mind, Munson, I’m going to get another beer. Y’know, since you made me spill mine all over myself.”

You turned around, adrenaline-filled and still craving another beer as you padded carefully towards to the fridge and went to open it, hand lingering on the fridge door for a moment as you felt Eddie creeping up behind you again.

He stopped right behind you, placing one hand atop yours on the fridge and using the other to push your hair back from your neck, “You can’t say that and just walk away from me, Y/N.”

Goosebumps prickled at your skin as his breath ghosted over the skin of your neck.

You turned around, now chest-to-chest with a smirking Eddie Munson.

“Can’t I?”

“No,” he clicked his tongue, dipping his head so that he was closer to your face, “Not when you’re in my shirt, looking like that, and you quite clearly know what it’s doing to me.”

You bit your lip, eyes flickering between his lips and the intense stare from his twinkling eyes.

“I thought you hated me,” you teased, trying to fight off the way your heart was racing and you were desperate to kiss him.

He shook his head with a chuckle, “You infuriate me, sure. But you’ve got to admit that the tension between us has always been at least a little bit sexual.”

You knew he was right; lingering stares and brief touches had told you that glaringly enough. Well, it had told everyone else, but you had both refused to admit it until now.

You stayed silent as his hand pressed against the fridge above your head, trapping you pressed against it, “Princess Y/N and the freak, huh?”

“Don’t call yourself that,” you sighed.

“Why? Everyone else does.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, but I’m not letting you call yourself a freak,” you pouted, and god did he want to kiss that little pout of your pretty face, “Besides, sort of ruining the moment.”

With that, his free hand reached up to cup your face and draw it completely to his, pressing his lips firmly against yours as you relaxed into his touch and wrapped your arms around him.

He moved his hands to scoop you up, placing you on the kitchen counter as you continued making out.

Eddie pulled back for a moment, panting as he looked at you, and you bit your lip.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that right?”

“It’s just because I’m in your shirt, Ed,” you poked your tongue out, before grabbing his chin and pulling him back into a kiss. But he ripped himself away to grunt in disagreement, “No. You’ve always been irresistible but… The shirt was the final straw.”

You moaned at his words, kissing him forcefully again as your hands roamed each other’s bodies desperately.

You knew that this was a risk — anyone could walk in on you both, particularly since he was literally hiding from the police right now. But right now all you could think about was each other.

“Fuck,” he’d bit your lip, and you leaned even further into his touch as he did so.

“I’ve never really hated you,” you mumbled, the way he made you feel forcing honest truths from your mouth, “I just— I don’t know.”

He laughed, the smirk on his face making your legs tighten around his waist, “I never hated you either, princess. It’s just fun pissing you off. But I’ve gotta say, I wish we’d done this sooner. Like, before I was at risk of death or jail.”

“Tell me about it,” you grumbled, placing both hands on his soft cheeks and pulling him so that his nose was pressed against yours.

Suddenly, you heard the front door to the house swing open.

“Jesus, man! We could’ve been the police!” Dustin yelled, as your eyes snapped up to find him stood with the rest of the group, gawking at you, “You didn’t even think to leave the house and go back to hiding in the boat house to start… Whatever’s going on here?”

You blushed crimson as Eddie peeled himself away from you, “We—this— Yeah man I don’t know what to say.”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the counter and taking his hand but hiding your intertwined fingers behind his back, “I still hate him.”

“Yeah, sure you do.”

——————

i feel like this was lowkey bad and rushed so i’m sorry but eddie munson is 24/7 on my brain at the moment so i had to get something out about him. please feel free to send in some requests about him or other stranger things characters now i have time and motivation to write! here’s a prompt list & here is my masterlist for other writings!

thanks again for reading <3

[iwritefandomimagines]

A LOT TO LEARN

masterlist

→ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

→ description: as top of eddie’s english class, a class he’s abysmally failing, you’ve somehow been roped into tutoring him so that he can finally pass. what you’re unaware of, however, is the crush he’s been harbouring on you for a long time. it seems you both have a lot to learn.

→ warnings: cursing, reader takes control lol, popular reader, nervous but still flirty eddie ! making out as usual in my fics

“You’re a lot more intelligent than you give yourself credit for, Munson.”

He seemed taken aback by your words as he chewed at the lid of his pen which sat between his lips. He quirked his brow, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm as you shook your head at him.

“I think the credit should be given to you for making studying English less fuckin’ miserable, Y/N,” Eddie smirked, looking up at you and sending your heart into overdrive, “You’re a good teacher.”

You rolled your eyes, watching how closely his eyes were trained on you, “Not true.”

He placed his notebook down and pushed it aside, shuffling a little closer to you as you blushed under his gaze.

“Well, I’ll admit that it’s less your tutoring that has motivated me, sure,” he grinned, looking down into his lap nervously for a moment as you cocked your head in confusion.

You tucked a strand of your hair out of your face, “What are you implying, Munson?”

“Maybe that I’ve had a massive crush on you for as long as I can remember,” he admitted, looking almost embarrassed but plastering a cocky smile on his face regardless, “So I used my terrible grades as an excuse.”

You were silent, unable to process what he’d just said. What did he mean? Was he really saying what you were hearing?

“The freak never had a chance with the Queen of Hawkins now, did he?” he laughed, his hands waving around exaggeratively as they so often did, “I figured I at least could be given the time of day if you were helping my god-awful lack of intelligence.”

You scoffed, “I’d have given you the time of day without you asking me to tutor you, Eddie.”

He scoffed right back in return now, “You might be the school’s sweetheart, but I highly doubt you’d have agreed to hang out with me if I’d just asked.”

“Your assumptions are misjudged, Munson,” you crossed your arms over your chest, irritated that he assumed you’d dismiss him.

You’d always thought Eddie was cute.

Sure, you ran in entirely different circles. And sure, your friends would’ve mocked you for spending time with him — they’d mocked you enough for agreeing to tutor him.

But you didn’t care what others thought. You’d have been more than happy to entertain his desire to spend time with you, regardless of his reason.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he shrugged, leaning a little closer to you as his intense gaze fixed on you, his eyes glimmering in the light of your room.

“Well then you really do have a lot to learn,” you shrugged, “Because your crush hasn’t gone unreciprocated, Eddie.”

His eyes flashed with almost panic as he processed what you had said, unbelieving that you could possibly like him back, even slightly.

“Why do you think I agreed to fucking tutor you in the first place, huh?” you smirked, enjoying the power as he stared at you in awe.

He blinked back his surprise, hands finding your knees as you sat cross-legged in front of him. He pushed your school books off your lap and leaned in only closer.

“You’re not fucking with me, right?”

“Eddie, I agreed to tutor you when I never say yes to tutoring. I asked you to come to my house and study in my room. I’m wearing this,” you gestured to the little black dress you’d selected in hopes he’d like it, “And you still think I agreed to tutor you for what… the thrill of bloody poetry analysis?”

Now that you’d said that, he did feel rather stupid.

“It just comes as a surprise, that’s all,” he mumbled, baffled by the concept of you — the gorgeous, sought after ‘queen of the school’ — liking him back.

“Y/N?”

But before he could ask to kiss you, like you knew he was about to do, you uncurled your legs and kneeled up to cup his face in your palms.

“I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me since you made yourself at home on my bed the minute you entered the room, Eddie,” you whispered, practically in his lap as you dipped your head so that your noses touched, “So please. Kiss me.”

He obliged immediately.

His lips found yours in a ferocious kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as yours tangled in his.

You clambered into his lap, legs curling around his waist as the kiss continued to deepen.

You’d never expected to be in this position, but god were you glad that he’d pulled you aside after class and asked you to tutor him.

He’d seemed so sure of himself when he did — claiming he really couldn’t fail this semester so was in dire need of your help — and seeing the nervous boy before you moments ago fuelled a fire in your belly.

You loved the power you seemed fo hold over him, though you hated that he viewed himself as beneath you.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he bit your lip, manoeuvring to throw you down onto your pillow so that he was hovering above you as he pulled away for a moment.

“I can’t believe I’m here, making out with Y/N Y/L/N… In her bedroom… And I’m not dreaming,” he rambled, twinkling eyes darting from yours to around your bedroom.

“You’re such a dork, Munson,” you giggled, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose, “It’s cute. I like this side of you.”

He laughed, reaching to rub the pad of his thumb over your delicate cheekbones as he admired you, “If only the rest of Hawkins High could see, huh? The princess here, underneath the freak.”

“You’re not a freak, Eddie,” you pouted, kissing his nose again as you’d very quickly taken a shine to this action and could tell he enjoyed it too, “They’re all just judgemental morons. You’re amazing.”

You couldn’t help your heart swelling at the sight of the light blush dusting his cheeks, but he shook his head gently, “You’re an angel, you know that Y/N? A real life angel.”

“Not at all,” you bit your lip, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth as his usual smirk broke out on his face again, “I just don’t want you thinking I’m out of your league when you are, by far, the hottest guy in school. Not to mention that you’re literally in a band which in itself is hot as fuck, and you’re a sweetheart even if you don’t want people to know it.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You’re really feeding the big bad Eddie’s ego here, princess,” he kissed you quickly again, “But I love it. Can I let you in on a secret, pretty girl?”

You nodded curiously.

“You’re going to be a little disappointed in me.”

You drew in a deep breath, confused but still curious all the same, “…What is it?”

“Well when you called me more intelligent than I give myself credit for because I’ve been sat ‘analysing a poem’ for ten minutes so we could compare notes…” he began, stifling a laugh as he leaned back from you to grab at his notebook again and open it, lifting it up for you to see.

Your eyes rested on a drawing of yourself, a quick sketch that bared brilliant resemblance to you even if he’d dashed it out so quickly and discreetly.

“Well you just looked pretty sat there concentrating on your own notes, so,” he bit his lip, almost shy for a moment as you beamed across at him.

“Who’d have though the ‘big bad’ Eddie Munson was such a sap, eh?” you teased, placing your hand on his chest as he dropped the notebook to pull you close to him again and roll you both onto your sides facing each other.

He shook his head, “What can I say, sweetheart? You bring it out in me. But in all seriousness, I’m glad tonight has panned out the way it did. I seriously thought I’d go home tonight with study notes I didn’t care about and an even bigger unrequited crush on you.”

“Well you don’t have to go home tonight at all,” you suggested, silently praying that he’d agree to stay with you, “If—If you want.”

His hands rested on your waist like they were meant to be there, and you almost felt as though things had been like this with Eddie forever.

It was crazy to think that just hours ago he was a guy at school who you’d fancied from afar but simply agreed to tutor to nurture in order the crush him as you assumed you would never get close to him.

“I’d love that, if you’ll have me,” he grinned, a gorgeous shit-eating, teeth-baring grin that sent your heart into overdrive, “Not have me, but have me stay. Well, I’d also like that way but not now, no pressure, I—,”

“Shut up and kiss me, Munson.”

His confidence seemed almost immediately to return as his grip on you tightened and his body inched somehow even closer as he pressed his chest to yours.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

—————

thanks for reading guys, i hope you enjoyed! i love the idea of eddie and a girl who is more in control even though i hate the whole eddie not thinking he’s good enough thing… so i hope this was okay! don’t worry, not every eddie imagine will involve a popular girl it’s just i finished these last two quickest!

let me know what you think — and if you’d like to request any imagines please go ahead. here’s my masterlist, and here’s a prompt list if you want to request but are stuck for ideas!

[iwritefandomimagines]

NO LONGER IN DENIAL

masterlist

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader, bestfriend!benedict bridgerton x reader

description: anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

warnings: angst, jealous!anthony cos i’m a sucker for him hehe, benedict being a shit stirrer who i adore, fluffiness at the end <3

“Lady Y/N is joining us for dinner this evening, I believe,” Benedict hummed, a small smirk gracing his face as the eldest Bridgerton’s head snapped up, “Mother told me she hopes to, anyway.”

Anthony watched as his sisters fussed excitedly over seeing you, for it had been at least a week since you had graced Aubrey Hall with your presence and they missed you dearly.

Anthony had too, of course, though he’d never admit it was for any reason beyond how highly regarded you were in his family and how much he enjoyed your friendship.

“I very much look forward to seeing her,” Benedict continued, still smirking devilishly, “Though I did have the pleasure of bumping into her as she left Modiste yesterday.”

Anthony furrowed his eyebrows at his brother, “You didn’t tell me that, brother.”

“Must I share every occasion I see Lady Y/N with you, Anthony?” he quipped in reply, crossing his arms over his chest as Colin stifled a laugh, well aware of what was going on, “One might think you jealous.”

“Jealous? You jest, brother. She is my closest friend, I am simply surprised you would not mention even in passing that you saw her,” Anthony spoke through gritted teeth, “Regardless, I look forward to seeing her.”

“Ah, perfect timing!” Francesca grinned as Lady Y/N’s arrival was announced moments later, and in you walked with a gloriously bright smile on your face, though this faltered as you saw the bitter look on Anthony’s face.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?” you asked shyly, taking a few steps towards Anthony, whose expression softened at this, “Have we chosen a bad day to visit? If so I apologise—,”

Suddenly Benedict was at your side now, “It’s quite alright, my dear Lady Y/N. We are all pleased to see you. Might we take a turn about the room? We have some things to discuss!”

“No fair! You saw her yesterday, I want to show her my embroidery,” Hyacinth pouted, though Benedict raised his brow at her and flickered his eyes in Anthony’s direction as if to explain his actions.

Everyone in the family was well aware of the affection shared between you and Anthony, even if he dared not admit how he felt because of his apparent desire not to marry.

Benedict believed he just needed a push to see that you had myriad other options, and that he could only push away his feelings for so long.

“I’m sure Benedict has something important to share, my dear Hyacinth, but I would love to see your embroidery promptly after,” your voice was like honey to the eldest Bridgerton, who fought off the desire to make his own request for a moment of your time, “There is enough of me to go around! My brother will be arriving shortly, also.”

Benedict began whispering almost as soon as you had crossed the room, endeavouring to make you well aware of his plan so as not to cause any discomfort to you.

He didn’t wish for you to be confused by his sudden flirtation, so immediately indulged you with the details of his concocted plan to induce jealousy in his older brother that might finally allow him to be honest about his feelings.

With some hesitation, you accepted his plan.

Benedict was well aware of your feelings for his brother, and you knew this — after all, you had confessed it to him yourself because you trusted him dearly. Much to Anthony’s dismay, nowadays Benedict was your closest friend of all.

Anthony had once filled that role, but as each year passed and your youth slipped away, you had fallen far too in love with him to be so satisfied with a friendship as you were with Benedict.

Benedict was your best friend — Anthony was the love of your life.

Though he did not admit it, you were the love of his too. This is why Benedict’s interference was so necessary as far as the second Bridgerton son was concerned.

It was unfair for you to believe your love unrequited when it was merely his stubborn refusal to see beyond his ‘duty’ as Viscount and head of the household that prevented him from giving in to his feelings.

The plan seemed already to be working by the time you were seated for dinner, far closer to Benedict than to Anthony who sat at the other side of the table.

He scowled as he watched his brother gossiping with you, still irritated by both his earlier remark about seeing you yesterday and his persistence with being the only person in the room to maintain your attention.

“It is working, my dear friend,” Benedict beamed across at you, leaning forward to both better execute his plan and so that you could hear him better, “If looks could kill, my brother would have seen me long since dead and buried.”

You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding the giggle that escaped as you waited to calm before looking across at Anthony, “Benedict!”

You drew in a deep breath, composing yourself before glancing across at the Viscount and catching his eye immediately. His glare was suddenly no more, his lips curling up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You mouthed a small “Hello,” to him, blushing crimson at the intensity of his stare. Despite the conversation going on around him, all he could do was look at you.

The staring contest you seemed to find yourself in was swiftly broken by Benedict’s voice calling your name again, returning you to conversation with him.

The rest of dinner passed much the same — small conversations here and there with the other Bridgertons, longing stares from an increasingly restless Anthony, and teasing comments from Benedict, who was certain that Anthony would be confronting you tonight.

“We should probably call for our carriage, I suppose,” you smiled sadly, disappointed with both how quickly the night had passed by and the fact you’d hardly spoken to Anthony throughout, “I’ve had such a lovely evening. I only wish I could stay longer!”

“You could!” Anthony exclaimed, an unusual outburst for the eldest sibling but one that made all at the table laugh as he rose to his feet, “We could have a room put up for you. It is late, and Wellsbury Hall is quite the distance.”

You bit your lip, smiling at him as he sat back down again, “Oh we couldn’t trouble you with that, my lord.”

“Perhaps my dear friend is right,” your brother disagreed, “It is getting late, and if it is no trouble we would be incredibly grateful. And I hope we might repay you with an invitation to Wellsbury in the near future? I hope to host a ball before the season ends so that my darling sister might finally find a husband.”

His eyes flickered between Benedict and Anthony for a moment and you realised that he must have been in on Benedict’s little plan.

You looked around the room cautiously at every smiling face, before settling your gaze on Anthony with a nod, “Very well then. I’d be delighted. The many childhoods spent staying here overnight are often much missed.”

Lady Bridgerton grinned, “Fantastic. Then it is settled,” she turned to the maids stood by the door, “Please prepare two rooms for our guests as quickly as possible. It is, after all, late, and I’m sure they will soon wish to rest.”

The way Anthony watched you for the rest of dinner made you impossibly nervous.

When the maids told you which rooms were readied, you stood to retire to bed, but not before Benedict offered to show you to the room as it was in his opinion the best decorated.

“Brother, I don’t believe it’s appropriate for you to show Lady Y/N to her room,” Anthony huffed, having had enough now of him being stuck to you like heavy-duty glue, “Perhaps you should allow one of our maids to kindly do so.”

“It is quite alright, Anthony. We are in the comfort of our own home, and I know Y/N quite well enough,” Benedict sing-songed, “Unless you would prefer to show her? The maids are quite busy clearing up.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched at his brother’s comment about knowing you ‘quite well enough’ and so he found himself at your side quickly.

“In fact yes, perhaps I should,” he agreed, a sternness in his tone you’d become used to again today. He was so much gentler with you, but today with you so seemingly far from him he has grown stoic again, “After all, I am the head of this household and you have not let me spend a minute with my closest friend, hm?”

Colin interjected now, aware of all eyes on the conversation, “Perhaps Lady Y/N can make the decision herself?”

“I—,”

“Fine, I concede,” Benedict raised his hands in surrender, “I suppose I’ve not let her leave my side this evening, though you cannot fault me for that. I will bid you goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight brothers.”

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips for just the gentlest of kisses to the back of it, before he bowed and quickly left the room.

With Anthony facing the other way, towards you, Benedict turned to shoot you a wink before leaving, and nerves bubbled in your gut at the unknown of what was to come.

The kiss to your hand was the final straw for Anthony, who linked his arm with yours and lead you out of the room without another word to anyone else.

You were silent for the walk, but once you stopped still outside of the room you were to sleep in Anthony turned to stand in front of you, his breathing jagged as his eyes searched your face for clues to why he was feeling so furious at your friendship with Benedict.

“Is my brother courting you?” he came right out and asked it, his chest heaving and yours doing so now too as you shook your head.

“Not at all, my lord,” you bit your lip again, before looking down at the ground to avoid his gaze.

He brought his index finger to your chin, lifting your face so that you were forced to look at him again, “And do you wish him to be?”

Again you shook your head, but his finger never left your skin for a moment.

“I was so sure—,”

“Forgive me, my lord, I have just been finding comfort in his friendship of late as I see him regularly about town,” you frowned, suddenly even more conscious of how little time you spent with Anthony in recent weeks.

He leaned ever so slightly closer, “Finding comfort in his friendship? And what of ours?”

“Our friendship, my lord? I—,”

“I apologise, Y/N, but I do not like to see you so close with my brother. Not least because of the fear of a scandal if others saw his behaviour,” he gritted his teeth, “He touches you too often. Leans too close to speak with you and it… it is misleading.”

You gulped, “Why would you be so infuriated by the notion of him courting me, my dear Anthony? He is your brother, and he cares for me. Even if it is not him I wish did so.”

He cocked his head in confusion now, before his eyes widened in realisation of his brother’s scheming. And in considering that, he realised that it had worked.

He’d never wanted to marry, and especially never for love.

But with you stood right there at his finger tips, smiling up at him nervously with a twinkle in your eyes, he threw caution to the wind and realised that you had changed that in him.

He could no longer deny his desire to hold you, to have you entirely as his, to make you his Viscountess.

“Who do you wish to treat you as such, my lady?”

“Surely you can see the answer for yourself, Anthony.”

“I simply wish to hear you say it. But if I must do so first, as a consequence of my foolishness in not seeing it sooner, then so be it. I dislike your closeness to my brother because I miss your attention being mine. I wish to have you at my side always, to laugh with you and dance with you and just talk with you all evening. I do not wish to see Benedict court you because I wish to do so myself.”

“Anthony—,”

“Please, my love, let me finish. I have most probably been in love with you for as long as I have known you, and yet chosen not to see it out of my own stubbornness. If not for my scheming devil of a brother, I might still be in denial. But I love you most ardently, Y/N. And if you feel at all the same then I should like to make you my wife. My viscountess.”

You were speechless, perhaps for one of the first times since meeting Anthony.

You had always told him everything, always saved your last dance for him at balls, always rooted for him in every game of Pall Mall even as his competitor.

And now here he was, the famously anti-marriage Viscount asking if you too wished to wed him.

“Anthony, I had hoped it was clear as day that I too have been unfathomably in love with you for longer than I can explain,” you blushed crimson again under his gaze as a smile spread across his face, “To marry you, well, would be the only way I might find joy in marriage. I know you’ve never sought a match, let alone a love match, but I love you most dearly, my dear Anthony.”

He captured your lips with his as soon as you stopped speaking, knowing that he shouldn’t do so but hoping nobody was around.

Besides, he would soon make you his wife, and he couldn’t contain the excitement.

“I know I’ve previously had my reservations but I am no longer in denial, and I’m sorry for taking my liberties with you by kissing you before we are wed but I could not help myself. And I wish to spend a lifetime kissing you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” he looked shy all of a sudden, which you had never seen before, and you grabbed both of his hands in yours to kiss them.

“Of course, my dear, there is nothing I would like more!”

His smile became impossibly wide, and once more he kissed you out of sheer excitement.

“I’m sorry that this was so abrupt, and I have yet no ring. But my mother will be ecstatic and I plan to give you her betrothal ring because— you are the only woman worthy. And I shall spend our whole life ensuring that I make up for taking so long to do this,” he was vulnerable now, still shy under your careful gaze,

“I had no desire to marry because I had no desire to put the woman I love through the pain of losing me like my mother did my father. She was distraught but— I see now that it is no good wasting time with this fear. However long I might live, I wish to spend those years loving you and making you happy, so that any pain might be worthwhile.”

You kissed him now, tearing your gloves from your hands and reaching up to cup his face and kiss him, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. Always. And I cannot wait to be your wife. It will be the greatest honour.”

You were both hot and flustered, and it was taking everything in him not to push open your bedroom door and sweep you off your feet.

But for you, he was a gentleman, and so he settled for one final kiss atop your head and a sweet goodnight.

“We shall tell the others as we break fast tomorrow, perhaps?” you could see the dizzy joy in Anthony’s eyes as he asked this of you, and you nodded profusely.

“I cannot wait, my dear.”

“Then I will bid you good night, my love. I will dream of you, and look forward to seeing you in the morning. Sleep well, my future viscountess.”

“Sleep well, my love.”

As you went to part, you heard a rustle a little way down the corridor, both looking up to see a smug Benedict smirking, leaning on the wall just down the hallway.

“Even I underestimated my own plan. Congratulations, brother. You finally saw sense.”

———

hello! i know this is completely random as i’ve been writing for djats lately but i has this idea and felt the neeeeed to write it. feel free to request more bridgerton fics, as i’m inspired at the moment and rewatching it.

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOT FOR HIM — BENEDICT BRIDGERTON

masterlist

pairing: benedict bridgerton x reader [plus platonic anthony x reader where he’s being a matchmaker/shitstirrer]

description: you may not have been the season’s diamond, but your debut had caused quite the stir in many a man’s heart — your childhood best friend benedict bridgerton included. however, given that the viscount had decided that he would marry this season, benedict cannot see why you would choose him over his brother.

warnings: kinda tiny bit of angst (if you squint) into tooth-rotting fluff !!! tiny bit of suggestive benedict at the very end but it’s not much !

author’s note: this is basically like a reverse to the anthony one i wrote because i have a big ol’ soft spot for benedict too after my latest rewatch. enjoy !!! [edited, but not thoroughly — will be returning to do so asap]

“You look astonishing, Y/N,” Benedict’s eyes were wide when he saw you, “Absolutely astonishing.”

You blushed crimson under the intensity of his gaze, “You don’t look too bad yourself this evening, Lord Bridgerton.”

You never called him that — you’d known him far too long to consistently comply with formalities — but considering that it was one of your very first balls of your very first season, you had to be the picture of manners.

“It is so strange to hear you call me Lord Bridgerton,” Benedict screwed his face up, “Even if it does give me some small hope that you might consider me too as one of your many suitors.”

You shook your head gently with a laugh, “Oh, Benedict, as if you would wish to court me.”

Before he had a chance to retaliate with stern disagreement at your idea that it was such a preposterous notion, your eyes snapped up to see his brother entering the ballroom.

“Ah,” you grinned, noticing that he had spotted you both immediately and was on his way over to you, “It appears your brother has finally arrived!”

You didn’t look at Benedict for long enough to see the frown on his face at your apparent excitement.

For years, everyone around you had speculated about the closeness of your relationship with Benedict.

Granted, you were close with the whole family, but the tenderness with which Benedict treated you had always teetered on blatant romance even if neither of you had seen it before.

Of course he was aware of it now — he’d realised he was in love with you long ago as silly young teenagers, and now that you were finally out in society (emphasis on finally, as you had delayed doing so as much as possible) he had hoped to make that clear.

But of course your eyes were fixed on his brother, the Viscount, who had finally decided he wished to marry and therefore seemingly snatched all of your attention away from him.

“Good evening, my lord,” you curtsied, and Anthony laughed, “Such formality! How are you enjoying your first ball, Y/N? I trust my brother has not let you leave his side?”

You giggled, and as much as Benedict adored the sound of your laughter he couldn’t help the clenching of his jaw at his brother’s remark and your evident amusement.

“He has taken great care of me, undoubtedly,” you smiled, hands resting on Benedict’s upper arm for a moment as you leaned into him, “How do you feel about your first ball on the hunt for a wife?”

Anthony scoffed, “Consumed with dread, as expected,” he joked, “Brother, would you mind if I stole Y/N away for one dance? Only so that I might enjoy one last moment of vague freedom before I endure the onslaught of mamas I see staring me down?”

Benedict swallowed thickly, because yes he very much did mind you being stolen away to dance with a man who could provide for you so much better than he could.

He had always been second best to his brother, but never with you.

And now he felt rather ridiculous as he nodded meekly and watched you saunter away at the side of his own brother, who would never love you like he did nor treat you as more than a friend and a commodity necessary to the life of an important man.

“Of course.”

You smiled shyly over at Benedict as you followed Anthony away, and made a mental note to confront him about the sad look gracing his features as you did so.

“My brother is staring daggers into my skull already,” Anthony chuckled as you took your positions to dance, “I rather wonder why he was not dancing with you if he is so bothered by my doing so.”

You bit your lip, “We have danced together twice already, Anthony. In fact, I’ve danced only with him so far tonight. I feel… safe with Benedict. This is all so terrifying.”

As Anthony beamed down at you knowingly, you realised quite what he had initially said, “Whatever do you mean by him staring daggers? Why would he be doing that?”

“Oh, my dear Y/N, you must see that my poor fool of a brother is overcome with jealousy at our interaction,” he laughed as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Particularly now that I plan to marry. He quite clearly thinks that it is you I wish to do so with.”

You looked down at your feet for a moment, suddenly feeling shy.

When you remembered that you were talking to a man you knew like he was part of your own family, however, your head snapped back up — a smirk gracing your face.

“Oh, am I not to become Viscountess? I so had my hopes up!” you feigned a gasp, “In all seriousness, Anthony, why on earth would Benedict think we might marry and more so why on earth would he care so much?”

Anthony heaved out a deep sigh at that as you danced, almost irritated by your blatant ignorance to what was so clear.

“I don’t believe I should tell you the answer to that if you are somehow quite unaware of it yourself,” he shook his head, briefly meeting the eyes of his brother as he spun you, and smiled almost teasingly at him, “I hope that after stealing you from him for this dance he might finally discuss it with you himself.”

You rolled your eyes, “You jest, Anthony, because if you are trying to imply that he has affections towards me I’m sure you are sorely mistaken.”

Anthony stopped abruptly, quirking his eyebrow at you, “You truly are oblivious?”

You looked at him curiously, doe eyed and inquisitive as you waited for him to continue — or to resume dancing so you didn’t continue to feel all eyes on your frozen frames.

“Right, very well. I am going to walk away now, all smiles,” he informed you, plastering a smile on his face and nodding at the onlookers as he kissed the back of your hand to show no ill-will had halted your dance, “I would suggest that you get some fresh air, perhaps? My brother might… Come to check on you.”

You forced a smile as he silently moved away from you and towards the buffet table at the other side of the hall.

With a sharp breath you took his advice, despite your confusion, and lifted your skirt a little to busy your hands as you traipsed out of the ballroom and onto the balcony.

Like clockwork, Benedict Bridgerton found himself at your side in mere moments.

“Are you waiting here for my brother?”

The tension in the air was palpable, his voice low as he failed to hide the disappointment at his suspicions.

“Not for him, no.”

“Then for another?”

“I suppose so.”

“Apologies, then. I’ll leave you to it.”

You spun on your heel now as he turned to leave, touching his shoulder, “No, Benedict, I was waiting— for you.”

“For me?”

The incredulous smile on his face made your heart swell with hope — perhaps Anthony was right.

Maybe what you had spent all these years perceiving as friendship truly was reciprocated love all this time.

“Anthony claimed he believed you jealous, and that you thought we were attached,” you giggled, and he swore his heart melted at the sound of your gentle laughter, “And I was utterly unsure as to why you would believe that, let alone be jealous of it. But then he told me to get some fresh air and that you might find me here and I became hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Yes. Hopeful that perhaps the feelings that have steadily grown on my part throughout the time I have known you might be returned. That perhaps you were not joking when you said you hoped I might consider you a suitor this season,” you blushed crimson as you served him your honest feelings on a silver platter.

He cocked his head to the side curiously, not quite believing you entirely though you were evidently being sincere, “Do you not wish to marry my brother?”

You scoffed, quickly covering your mouth with your hand at the outburst, but then sighed as you looked deeply into his eyes, “Of course not, Benedict.”

“But he is a Viscount — he could offer you so much more than I, and he seemed taken with you.”

“He was taken with making you jealous enough to confront me, my dear Benedict. He spent our dance essentially telling me to wise up and talk to you,” you bit your lip nervously, “Because he knows that I have long loved you, and believes that you feel the same.”

The curious smile on his face grew now into a beaming grin, his hands flying to take yours within them and bring them to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“I—, Y/N, I cannot— I cannot even begin to express the joy that those words have brought me,” the words tumbled from his lips like he couldn’t think fast enough to convey his feelings, “I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I settled for cherishing mere friendship because I feared I would not be… I would not be the man for you beyond that.”

You shook your head, “Benedict, surely you know how dear you are to me? I— at the very least in my heart, you are the man for me. I’ve been certain of it for so long and that is why I feared entering society so much. I didn’t want to marry for the sake of marriage and have to have the man I truly love as a mere friend. You are more than enough for me, Benedict, I feel safe with you — you are home to me.”

“And you are home to me, Y/N,” he was trying so very hard not to kiss you, his words soft and delicate as his breath fanned over your face due to your newfound close proximity, “If you would allow me to… I would like to court you. In fact, I would propose to you now if I was to allow my selfishness to take control. But I want you to be sure it is me you want, even if it hurts to see you dance and converse with others.”

“You’re all I could ever want, Benedict,” you spoke like it was utterly obvious, “And when you do propose, you can be certain of my acceptance. For now I am happy to share every dance with you and pretend we need to get to know each other to form an engagement. We have all of the time in the world.”

“We do.”

You were both breathing heavily, eyes glossy with the sheer emotion of the confessions you had just shared.

“I wish so badly that I could kiss you right now, but I fear I may not be able to control myself in future once I do,” his voice was barely above a whisper as you licked your lips, swallowing thickly.

“I wish— I wish you might kiss me too,” your reply was hardly even coherent, too love drunk to properly formulate your words, “More than anything.”

He was still holding onto your hands, and so he brought them up to ghost another kiss over them again, settling for this as he fought his urge to press his lips to yours instead.

“As you said, my love, we have all the time in the world,” there was a subtle undertone of what you might describe as lust in his tone now, intertwined with the love struck lilt he had been speaking with.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his lips ghosted up your forearm briefly before he brought them back down to your hands.

“And I cannot wait.”

———

horny benedict at the end to satiate my own need for that despite the intention for this to just be fluffy hahaha. hope you enjoyed !!!

feel free to keep requesting — and in the mean time here is my masterlist.

[stevebabey]

nine facts, one lie

summary: It didn’t matter that your best friend Robin claims he’s changed, you do not like Steve Harrington. He used to be egotistical, a player, an asshole — and you’re not in any hurry to believe he’s changed his ways.

Never mind that he seems terribly kind now, compliments here and there, or even that he’ll pick you up from a date gone horribly wrong… [16.5k]

[one sided enemies to lovers — you hate steve and by god, does he want to change that] dedicated to my dearest kenny

Fact #1: You did not, under any circumstance, like Steve Harrington. 

It doesn’t matter what Dustin says nor the smug roll of Robin’s eyes, you knew it yourself even if no one else believed it; you did not like Steve Harrington. 

From everything you’ve ever heard about the guy, it was a surprise that he still had any friends — especially with the likes of your friends, a fact that makes you gag when Robin brings it up.

Robin, lovely best friend Robin, who completely betrayed you by associating herself willingly with Steve.

Since the beginning of high school, the two of you had been thick as thieves. Gossip was spilled between the two of you frequently, juicy enough to make even Carol Perkins’ head spin — you talked often enough that it got you split up during class time constantly, giggles too loud to be contained. 

Being at the bottom of the social food-chain —or maybe worse, completely unseen to your peers— there was nothing like sharing snarky remarks between you and Robin about the dunderheads who ‘ruled’ the school through idiotic popularity. 

Robin had a particular dislike for Tina Burgess ever since she’d started the rumour that girls in band were freaks in the sheets and would put out to anyone who would ask. You weren’t sure what had been worse: the obvious dig that Robin wasn’t getting any or the slimy guys who believed it and had the guts to ask. 

You, however, distinctly despised the likes of King Steve.

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[back-home-to-camelot]

Where do you think you’re going?

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x gn!reader

Summary: After what you think is just a one-night stand with Ketterdam’s best sharpshooter, you attempt to sneak away and save yourself the embarrassment of the morning after. Jesper has other ideas.

Warnings: implied smut, nudity

Word count: 1.6K

Masterlist here

You didn’t usually do this.

Waking up in strangers’ beds. Tumbling into strangers’ beds in the first place. The Barrel was perilous enough without the added risk entailed by following home people you barely knew, regardless of how attractive or polite they seemed when they flirted with you and bought you drinks. If you wanted intimacy, it had to be with someone you trusted. It had to mean something.

Yet here you were, opening your eyes to the morning light on the cozy little pillow that was Jesper Fahey’s bare chest.

To be completely fair, Jesper wasn’t a total stranger. His reputation, at the very least, had reached your ears long before you ever laid eyes on him. The best sharpshooter in all of Ketterdam, never once having missed even the most impossible shots. A notorious gambler, more often than not buried in debt. An absolute charmer who could flirt his way into most any man or woman’s bed as easily as he forgot their faces in the morning.

You had been well aware of all that. Which begs the question: what in the Saints’ names had you been thinking?

You hadn’t been. And you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol. The one and only glass you’d had could hardly account for the haze in your mind as Jesper had sat beside you, oozing charisma. It was impossible not to want to stay by his side, drawn in by every playful remark and dizzying smile. It was like he knew every single thing to say to make you laugh and heat rise into your cheeks. The conversation flowed easily, like you’d known each other for years and Saints, it didn’t hurt that he was handsome as hell - and he damn well knew it, which only made him even more attractive.

In the end, you hadn’t stood a chance, really. You could have gotten up and left at any time. You could have told him to leave you alone. You could have done anything but follow him out of the crowded room into a secluded hallway, let him press you against the wall and kiss you senselessly. But you’d been wondering what his lips felt like all night, and when you’d finally had them on yours, curled into a proud little smirk as you tugged at his clothing to pull him closer, you hadn’t really stopped to consider any other options for how the rest of the night might go.

Even then, you could have left it at that. Instead, you had followed Jesper to his room and let him kiss you some more. Until kissing had turned to wandering hands, which turned to discarded clothing, which turned to everything else.

Turns out his hands were skilled at more than just pulling triggers.

You were reminded of that at the sight of his right one resting casually on his stomach, mere inches from your face. The rings on his fingers glinted in the light pouring through the window, and Saints, how they had felt against your skin.

You resisted the urge to groan at the memory and squirm further into him. His heartbeat was a soothing rhythm in your ear, beckoning you to close your eyes and simply relax into it.

But as nice and cozy as it was to lay in his arms, the thought of waking him up made you uneasy.

Because as far as you knew, this was the part where one of you left. And since this was his room, it seemed like the one had to be you. Your heart sank at the thought of leaving without saying goodbye, especially when you’d genuinely seemed to hit it off. But now that the thrill of the seduction game had passed, would he still act like he had last night? Make you feel so at ease? You doubted he would be cruel, but would he find a way to subtly hint at the fact that you had overstayed your welcome?

If the rumours were anything to go by, this was about as far as your ‘acquaintance’ would go. Best to quit while you were still ahead.

You mourned the loss of warmth as you carefully extracted yourself from Jesper and from under the sheet, barely daring to breathe as you watched his face to make sure he was still asleep. He made a little groan and his head shifted a bit on the pillow, but his eyes remained closed.

Good. It didn’t feel that way, but it was for the best.

You shifted your weight so you were sitting on the edge of the mattress, and cringed as it creaked. You remembered being vaguely aware of the sound the night before - though it hadn’t been quite as loud as you.

For Saints’ sake, get it together.

As silently as you possibly could, you got out of bed and began to gather the clothes you had discarded the night before, strewn across the floor in whatever places Jesper had seen fit to toss them away. You tried your best not to think about how enthusiastic he’d been to peel them off you as you put them back on.

When you were decent once again, you hesitated. You were standing next to the bed, the door ahead of you and a sleeping Jesper behind you. The urge to take one last look at him was overwhelming - as if you hadn’t already stolen peeks all throughout getting dressed. How could you not? The sheet only covered him up to his waist, leaving his lean torso on a display of glowing skin in the morning light. He looked like a priceless painting.

No, looking was a bad idea. If you did, you might just cave in and crawl right back into bed next to him.

You took the first step towards the door.

“And just where exactly do you think you’re going?”

You froze as still as if he were holding a gun to your head. Even that might make you less light-headed than the sound of his voice in the morning - rough with sleep, as teasing as the little amused smile on his lips because damn it, you were certainly looking now. Lazily, he tucked his forearm under his head, shifting beneath the sheet in a way that made it slide just that little bit lower... one inch further and you would be able to see exactly what lay at the end of the trail of dark hair beneath his navel.

Again.

“Lost your voice, love?” he broke the silence you hadn’t realized was stretching. Your eyes snapped back up to his.

“No!” you scrambled for words, cheeks burning. “No, I...”

“A shame. Means I could have done better.”

He winked. As if the bastard needed you to moan yourself hoarse to know just how well he had done.

“Saints,” you sighed, failing to suppress a small laugh. “You have no shame.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he grinned, pleased that you were more like yourself. He shot up into a sitting position in a burst of more energy than you could ever imagine having in the morning, and you quickly averted your eyes before the sheet could slip too far off. “So? Where...” he took your hand, playfully tugging at your fingers, “were you going?”

The perfectly innocent skin on skin contact made your heart stutter, and you looked at Jesper without thinking. He had made sure that the sheet still covered his modesty - for your sake, rather than his - and he wasn’t pulling on your hand hard enough to make you fall back on the bed, but the invitation was clear and oh-so-enticing. He was so damn pretty, looking up at you with those stray curls falling over his eyes.

“Well, I just... I didn’t think you’d want me to stay,” you confessed, eyes dropping to your hand in his. “At least, that’s what I heard.”

“Heard?” he frowned.

“From others. Who were... left. Instead of leaving first.”

“Oh,” he made in realization. The easy air between you shifted, and he released your hand to lean back on the mattress. You tried to ignore the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Well, you didn’t hear... entirely wrong,” he admitted. “But that’s not always the case. Not now.”

You blinked at him, taken aback. He seemed... sincere, instead of teasing. It wasn’t something you’d seen the night before, and you were a bit skeptical about whether you should believe it.

“What do you want now?” you asked anyway.

Jesper shrugged. “Breakfast. Another round. Not necessarily in that order.”

The playfulness was back, but the fact remained - Jesper Fahey was saying he wanted you to stay.

“Look, last night was fun,” he went on when you simply stood there, at a loss for words. “You were fun. We clicked. In every way,” he smirked suggestively. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, but... it doesn’t have to mean nothing, either. I’m willing to find out if you are.”

That didn’t sound half bad. In fact, it sounded wonderful - too much so to be true. This was still Jesper Fahey, who people said was as unreliable a lover as he was a loyal friend to his crew. Always chasing a high, moving at a faster pace than you could probably keep up with.

But maybe it was time you stopped listening to ‘people’. After all, he was here with you now, waiting. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want more of him.

“Breakfast and another round sounds good,” you finally said, putting a grin on Jesper’s lips. And now you definitely weren’t going to suppress the urge to kiss them again. “Just not in that order.”

You did exactly what you’d been craving to earlier, climbing back on the bed and into Jesper’s waiting arms as you straddled his lap. His smile was all mischief.

“Why not both at once?”

This time, you pulled the sheet aside yourself, and your clothes ended up right back on the floor where they belonged. Breakfast or not, Jesper kept his mouth quite busy for a good while.

~~~~~~~

If you enjoyed, please comment and/or reblog!

[storiesforallfandoms]

soft side ~ billy hargrove;stranger things

word count: 2517

request?: yes!

“Could you by any chance write a Billy Hargrove fluff?? You know before he died. Like maybe he’s really sweet to the reader and she’s the only one he lets see his soft side.”

description: in which the big bad bully falls for the quiet girl and shows her a side of him that no one has ever seen before

pairing: billy hargrove x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse

masterlist (one, two)

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