#“if i want to go out with a bang during my last week of school i should go for it” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hughesyodaddy43 · 2 months

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Pizza solves everything ⎸ L.H

pairings: bf! Luke x fem!reader. Platonic!Ethan Edwards and Mark Estapa x reader Genre: fluff warnings: angst?,mentions of cheating, stressed reader, exam season synopsis: Lukes girlfriend gets worked up over finals. Ethan and Mark attempt to make her feel better. requested?: yes word count: 3.1k authors note: I am not from America so i don't know how exams and schooling work over there, i hope this still makes sense. i gave reader a nickname, 'missy' and will probably use that name for future Luke fics.

You groan as you type on your computer, sitting at your desk with mindless tv playing in the background. You currently live in a tiny apartment with your best friend, Ethan. It's a two bedroom and can only really house two people before feeling cramped. However it is right next to Umich and is far more convenient than living in the dorms.

You only started living with Ethan last year, after your previous roommate moved out and you needed someone to share utilities with. Seeming as though Luke was leaving for New Jersey and Ethan never left your house anyway - it seemed only logical that he started paying rent.

Having a boyfriend in the NHL is both a blessing and a curse, the blessing being the fact that your hot boyfriend is in the NHL and the curse being that everyone else thinks he is hot too.

You never were the jealous type, or at least not before you saw all the girls that crowded Luke when he went to parties. Something in you cringed when you saw how awkward he got when denying girls, it was common that you'd have to step in otherwise that man would have just stood there like a statue the entire encounter. It wasn't like he would ever cheat on you, you were confident that he wouldn't. However when your hair is fitted to a much darker shade then the girls he interacts with, it's hard to not think about him wanting a more ‘conventional’ Hockey Girlfriend.

Luke is always first to tell you he doesn't care about that stuff and you believe him, but when you haven't called him in days, sometimes weeks, it gets less easy to control the unsettling feelings.

Everytime you call with Luke, it's always cut short, whether it’s Ethan banging on your door at 11 o’clock for a ‘late night snack’ or Jack barging in to argue with Luke about something, you never get to talk about what you're really feeling.

Because of the distance and lack of communication, the relationship has been a bit strained, it's not like you could tell if luke felt the same since he's too busy sleeping or playing hockey to communicate that with you. You were so proud of Luke, no doubt about it, however something in you boiled when he only ever mentioned hockey during the ten minute phone calls.

Since the last phone call you had with him, you've only really exchanged small text messages every couple hours. It was upsetting that you couldn't talk to your boyfriend about everything going on but it was also a nice way to get away so you can finish up and focus on all the upcoming exams.

You had your next one tomorrow and really needed to knuckle down and get studying for it. You've managed to get what you needed done for tonight so you thought you'd call Luke for a final call before bed.

After wriggling comfortably against your pillows, you lean against your head board. bringing your phone up close to your ear, you press the dial on luke's contact listening closely to the ringing sound on the other end.

Ring

You breathe hitches as you hear Lukes voice on the other end, only this time it was his voicemail. You take one last deep breath before shutting your phone off and sinking into your pillows.

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand and you view a message from your best friend and biggest hater, Ethan.

House rat: the team got too much pizza, if you're still up I can bring you some?

House rat : Silence speaks volumes missy

Pissy missy : no. i'm just asleep

Pissy missy : You're disturbing my slumber

House rat: oh well pizza is good for your soul. Mark is coming too ;)

Pissy missy: Fuck.

You sigh and put your phone back down, wiping your eyes, you sit up against the headboard once again and pull your computer onto your lap, Resuming your place in your essay.

“MISSY COME HERE GIRL” Ethan calls out from the front door, walking towards your room in long strides. He bursts through the door with a box of pizza in his hand and makes his way to sit at the end of your bed, Mark slowly entering behind him. Mark moves to sit further on the bed, next to Ethan, pulling out a piece of pizza from the box.

“How are you?” Mark asks as he stuffs his face with the crust.

You sigh, reaching to rip a piece of pizza from the rest, bringing it up close to your lips

“Been okay, I guess” you take a bite, avoiding eye contact with the two boys in front of you “are you sure? You've seemed a bit distant'' Mark asks “im fine.” you say, taking another big bite of the saucy crust “are you sur-” “I'm fine so quit asking” you yell, adding an edge of venom to your words. Taking the boys by surprise “wow, someones a bit extra pissy tonight” Ethan adds.

That's when something in your throat tightens, you feel yourself bubbling over. You don't understand why, your whole nickname stems from the fact that you get pissy from time to time but it feels like that was the last straw.

Tears begin filling your eyes, vision goes blurry as you feel your cheeks burn up. Sniffles are heard as the boys go silent before you. Tears drip onto the final bite of your pizza.

“Im-sorry-i-just-so-stressed-and-upset-and-luke-hasnt-been-talking-to-me-and-i-miss-him-and-i-think-hes-gonna-breakup-with-me-and-im-just-so-sad-and-i-dont-mean-to-be-mean-but-im-just-so-angry” you hurry through muffled sobs as your eyes go red and your sinuses block up.

“Woah hey hey, Missy i didn't mean to make you upset.” Ethan says , leaning forward to meet your eyes

“Yeah, talk to us..but a bit slower please” Mark says softly, careful to not make you cry again.

You take a deep breath, lifting your head up to see the two young hockey boys worried faces, your lip quivers slightly as you breathe in and out, ready to spill out what has been hurting you.

“I don't know, I'm just so stressed with these exams and I think I'm gonna do fine but I'm just scared.” you start, trying to get one problem out at a time

“I know for a fact that you'll do fine in your exams and assignments” Ethan comforts “yeah! you're like the smartest person i know!”

“Thanks.. It's not just that tho” you say, sniffling a bit as tears continue down your face and onto your swollen lips, the taste of salt sinks into your mouth. The Hockey players stay silent, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Luke and I haven't really been talking and I think he wants to break up.”

The boys share a knowing glance but say nothing.

“And you know i've seen all the girls jack brings home, the pretty blonde girls i mean what if luke met one of them and they fell in love” you say, growing more and more hysterical as each thought processes through your head.

Logically you new Luke would never cheat but with your emotions running high you couldnt help but think that Luke had fucked the entire female poplutation of new jersey ranging from 18-25 by now.

“And all he every talks about when we do call is stupid fucking hockey” you rise your voice slightly before looking at the boys

“no offence” you add, placing your hands in your lap and finishing your pizza

“ he didn't even answer my call tonight” you finish, the last sentence being muffled as you swallow your food.

To your surprise the boys stay silent and stare at each other with Ethan looking down at his phone then back up at mark then sharing a look back to you.

“OMG SO HE IS GONNA BREAK UP WITH ME” you scream, tears streaming down your face harder

“WHAT NO NO NO” the boys choir, eyes wide.

“Then why are you looking at eachother like that? And who the fuck are you messaging at 12o’clock at night???” you yell pointing towards ethan.

“No-no one” ethan adds, throwing his phone away to the end of the bed.

Mark moves to sit next to you, throwing an awkward arm around you in a comforting embrace

“missy, he's probably not gonna break up with you'' Mark adds

“PROBABLY??” you cry

“NONO he means he is NOT going to break up with you” Ethan interjects, throwing a pointed look at Mark “oh yeah sorry that's what i meant” Mark stuttered

You groan loudly as your head flys back onto your pillows, you bury yourself into your blanket

“Okayyy so you're tired so we're gonna get outta here” Ethan says, dragging the pizza off your bed with Mark sliding off behind him.

“Good night, Missy'' Mark says, patting your head, peeking out slightly

“Good night!!” Ethan yells from the kitchen with a mouthful of pizza.

You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, you look at your phone that reads ‘7 am’ and still you have no response from Luke. You sigh and remove yourself from your bed, making your way towards the shared bathroom you have with Ethan.

You walk down the hall and pass Mark who is sleeping soundly on the couch, you continue walking and stop by Ethan's room, you peer in to see him sprawled out on his bed, keeping note that you should keep quiet as you get ready so you don't wake the two up prematurely.

You take time in your shower to clear your mind, enjoying the warm hug as the water runs down your back and soothes your sore neck. You recite in your head that everything will be okay and to just focus on your exam first, then worry about whatever bullshit Luke is pulling.you finish your shower and get dressed in warm attire. You pair your favourite long sleeve shirt with your fav baggy sweats and continue on with your hair and makeup. Finishing up, you leave the bathroom and are met with the inviting smell of fresh breakfast.

Walking down the hallway you are met with Mark and Ethan who have both woken up and are now stuffing their faces with every breakfast food you own.

“Good morning” you say, giggling slightly

“Morning” Mark says, eyes still drawn to the tv

“Heyy, do you want a bagel?” Ethan asks, walking over towards you “you're gonna need some brain food” he adds

“Maybe not, i'm too nervous to eat right now” you say

“Hmm, are you sure? What about I make you one for later?” he asks

“Maybe next time” you say as you turn on your heels back to your room, rummaging through your cupboard you find a comfy hoodie to throw over your body to keep you warm and toasty throughout your exam. You pack up your bag and walk back out into the kitchen. You return back to your room, retrieving your charging phone.

“Missy, do you need a ride?” Ethan asks

“Nah, the walk will be nice for me, good way to clear my head” you add, walking back out of your room.

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulders

“Thank you by the way, for last night” you add looking back towards Ethan and Mark

“No problemo, i'm sure you'll feel better soon” Mark says, turning his head to give you a cheeky wink

You giggle a bit as You look back at ethan confusion still evident in your face

“Don't listen to him, he's weird” Ethan adds as he walks towards you to give you a pat on the back “you'll do great”

“Thank you” you say as you move out the door and towards school.

The timer blares through the room as everyone stands , making their way towards the teachers desk to send off their papers. You sit there for a minute, staring down at your paper, revising everything you wrote down. The girl beside you nudges you out of your trance as she waits for you to stand up and hand you paper i with her. All you can do is quietly walk your way down the daring stares that lead to the front of the class. You hand in your work with a deep breath and make your way back to your previous seat, ready to go home and eat your feelings.

“How do you think you went?” the girl beside you asks as you both walk out of the room,

“Um i think i did okay, passable i hope” you responde

“I'm sure you did great, you wrote a lot more than i did”

“Hmm how do you think you went?” you ask

“Good.. i hope”

“You did good, i know it”

“Thanks, missy. I was gonna ask before but how's everything going with Luke? Are you gonna see him soon?” she asks

“Maybe, idk. We haven't been talking too much recently”

“Aww thats a shame well i hope all goes well”

“Yeah, thanks”

“Bye missy” she exits the conversation, making her way over to her next class

“Bye” you add, thankful that this was the only class you had scheduled for the day.

The walk home was calming , the cold breeze blowing on your face created a refreshing cooling to your hot body as you walked through the campus, passing a couple friends and saying hi briefly before separating.

You make your way to your apartment, trudging up the stairs in a final burst of energy. Unlocking the door you walk into your heated apartment, looking down as you remove your bag, take off your hoodie and hang your keys up, not making note of the tall figure sitting on the bar stools next to your kitchen.

You turn around and are met with Luke - your boyfriend. The man who you love. The man who's been ignoring you.

“Hey baby” he says, standing up to walk towards you

You take a step back, anger and confusion plastered on your face

“Well at least you have the courtesy to do it in person” you say, crossing your arms over your body, sliding your sleeves over your knuckles.

Luke looms over at you, he stares in confusion, trying to read your emotions.

“What are you talking about?”

Your gaze leaves the floor and meets his, anger bubbling inside your stomach

“You wanna break up?” you say bluntly, mono toned and unnatural

“What?? No ??Why would you think that?” Luke argues, voice becoming higher and his breath itching slightly at the information that his girlfriend thinks he drove 9 and a half hours just to break up with her.

“Are you serious? No call? no text? no nothing, not even a stupid instagram reel and you think my mind wouldn’t wander to that?” you say, stepping forward at each word, announcing your words with a spit of fury.

“I did call and I did text” Luke defends, hands slapping against his sides.

“Barely, Luke we only called for ten minutes a week and all you talked about was stupid hockey and I love hockey but that's all you would talk about. And not to mention the dry messages I mean we barely even talked like normal people, just robots with no love for each other.” you rant on, eyes feeling heavy as tears glistened in your sockets, afraid to let them fall you do your best to blink them away before luke notices.

“Missy” Luke whispers, snaking his hands to your forearms

“I was only trying to give you space, I knew you would get stressed with your upcoming finals so I wanted to give you as much time as you needed to study. I didn't mean to be dry and unloving towards you” his voice was soothing and calm, his fingers brushing lightly on your clothed arms.

“Well it was a dumb decision” you argue, earning a snicker from luke

“yeah , it was and I'm sorry.” he agrees

“So why are you here then? If you aren't gonna break up with me?”

“I was planning to come down after your finals were finished, I was originally driving in tomorrow but Ethan messaged me last night telling me to come early”

“Oh. so that's why they were acting weird” you say, reciting the events of last night in your head.

“Yeah, Do you know why he said that?”

“Well i was a bit emotional last night, i was crying while stuffing my face with pizza” you laugh looking back up at luke.

“Oh my, so is that why Ethan sent me 43 messages at midnight?” Luke adds, smiling to himself before pulling up his phone to show you the absurdly concerning amount of texts from the boy.

“I'll take it that Ethan and Mark were not very good at comforting you?” he says, sitting back down on the bar stool and pulling you to stand in between his legs

“They weren't too bad , maybe not the best tho” you say, giggling slightly at the situation

Silence fills the room for a bit before luke speaks up

“I'm sorry I caused you so much stress, I love you and I wouldn't trade you for the world. Maybe I should try and talk to you more and not just about hockey, hm?” he speaks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear

“Yes please” you smile before leaning in to give him a deep kiss. You both pull away before going back in for a warm and comforting hug, swaying slightly.

“I don't know about you but i'm starving, do you wanna go get some food?” Luke asks, speaking into the crook of your neck

“mhm, exams make me hungry and that breakfast bar Ethan snuck into my bag wasn't very filling” you add, moving so you can look at Luke once more, placing a delicate kiss on his lips

“About Ethan, should I talk to him about how pizza doesn't solve every problem?”

You giggle at his comment, staring softly into his muddy blue eyes before being interrupted by Ethan opening his door

“PIZZA SOLVES EVERYTHING” he shouts just before slamming his bedroom door closed.

“He's been home this whole time?” I ask Luke

“Who do you think let me in?” Luke chimes, smirking down at you.

wriggling out of his arms its not long till you're pulled back by a gentle hand on your wrist

“Wait, I gotta ask how your exam went” Luke asks, hands sneaking around my waist and resting on my lower back.

“It went okay, i didn't give up so that's good” i say, shrugging.

“Mhm good, never give up” he says, finishing his comment by patting my head.

Silence is left between us once again, eyes frowning as he tries to read my expression

“I missed you, Lukey. Don't pull that shit again”

“I missed you too, and judging by how angry you were when you came home i definitely won't” he says as we both make our way out the door and down the stairs.

#nhl hockey #nhl imagine #ethan edwards #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagine #mark estapa #Lh43

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powderblueblood · 6 months

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HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER SEVEN — WELCOME to the REAL WORLD, JACKASS

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summary: christmastime in hawkins brings a bunch of cherry bombs in the boy's bathroom, a trip down memory lane via seven minutes in heaven avenue, and the least likely trio this town has ever seen. content warnings: MINORS DNI i'm going to fuck you up and santa isn't real so we've got, smut including references to and descriptions of male and female masturbation, smoking, swearing, a pregnancy scare, era-typical misogyny and ANGST in the form of a flashback!!! word count: 12.5k. merry christmas babies

Dear reader, it takes you less than five weeks to become incapable of imagining your life without Eddie Munson.

Which, given his propensity for being an absolute neanderthal, is concerning.

Eddie Munson talks with his mouth full and plays his music too loud. He never closes a cabinet all the way. He walks through anywhere, literally anywhere, be it a store or the library or Ronnie’s trailer–leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He talks during movies and puts his feet up on the seats at the Hawk. He makes fun of the books you read, but always grabs them away from you to stare at the blurb on the back. He never finishes a cigarette all the way before lighting another one, which is just wasteful. He pretends to be good at holding his liquor, but he’s not.

He stands too close to you in places where he’s got plenty of room to move. He makes you laugh, even when you don’t want to. He holds the door for you in school, at the bookstore, getting out of the van, even though you’re more than capable of doing that yourself. He takes advantage of you when you’re in a good mood, like making you scratch his head as if he were a cat.

Sometimes he calls you ‘baby’, as if you don’t have a nickname already. As if you two are…

You lean toward the only mirror in the girls’ room with decent light, reapplying the red lip stain you’d taken to wearing– it was coming on Christmas, for god’s sake, and despite everything, you’re feeling festive. Quick. Lighter on your feet than you have been in a long time.

“Hey girl, could I borrow that?” an out-of-tune simper rings right next to your ear and you almost jump out of your skin, lipstick clattering into the sink.

“Jesus!” you say, and Eddie Munson cackles. You knock him back with a one-handed shove, face setting into that funny little grimace you’ve taken to wearing when he acts up– and he’s always acting up. You’re gonna get wrinkles if he doesn’t cut it out. “What the hell are you doing in here? Hair in your eyes make you miss the sign that says girl’s room?”

You know that’s not true, because you were the one that just about tied him to a chair in Ronnie Ecker’s trailer so you could trim his bangs last week.

This is a fuckin’ violation of my human rights, Lacy!

Every time I’m seen with you, people think I’m out walking a goddamn Briard. Hold still!

“So, hot off the press, newspaper girl,” Eddie says, leaning against the yellow porcelain, “One, I am literate, much to everyone’s shock and awe. And two, someone threw a bunch of cherry bombs down the john in the boy’s bathroom and the place is fucking Hiroshima, but wet and kinda shitty smelling. So we all got told to use this…” He gestures around at the clean-ish tile. “...salon of iniquity.”

“Was it you?” you ask, plucking a cigarette from the soft pack he’s offering you.

“Huh?” He scrunches his brows, leaning with a lighter ready. He’s taken to doing that; cigarette at the ready, lighter at the ready, low-grade explosives at the ready, probably.

“The cherry bombs, was it you?” you say through a reel of blue smoke.

“For once, no,” Eddie sighs, head slumping forward like a Peanuts character, “Some other gorgeous, anarchistic genius got the jump on me.”

“Oh, god,” a frown sets in; you pick up your dropped lipstick and in its wake, ash into the sink, “There’s no other bathrooms on campus you animals could use?”

“Nuh-uh. Unisexuality, baby, it’s the way of the future,” Eddie tells you, fanning out his hands like P.T. Barnum.

A beat. You think. This bathroom, the unofficially allocated senior bathroom, the one you and the rest of the Hawkins in-crowd had been using since sophomore year, got crowded at the best of times. The fumes of Aquanet were a definite health risk, but that’s an occupational hazard when it comes to being a girl. You add boys into the mix, nay, couples into the mix–

Damn.

“We’re about to witness the conception of so many toilet babies.”

Realization dawns on Eddie, his brown eyes flaring. “Oh shiiiit. I never thought of that.”

“The band geeks alone, Eddie,” you whisper, head tilting toward him all scandalized-like, “We’re gonna show up at our fifteen year reunion and every single one of these suckers is gonna have their own little freshman clones.”

“Spare a thought for Heather Holloway.” Eddie’s face, a mask of mock concern, makes you roll your eyes.

“Why?” you scoff, not a fan, “She doesn’t inspire many.”

“Objection. Her implants do.”

You turn to face him fully. “J’excuse?”

“Swear to god,” and his palms are up, “Just saw her in Chemistry.”

“Good? Bad?”

“Conical. Jayne Mansfield.” Aaand his hands are gesturing, animatedly. Crassly. Pervily. “Take your goddamn eye out.”

“Wow. Christmas came early.”

“Christmas ain’t the only thing that’s gonna be coming early…”

“Ew.”

Eddie smirks and flicks his cigarette into the sink, hitting the faucet to wash it away– there were at least three good drags left in that, you think.

“Heather H, first one to get knocked up in the Great Bathroom Insemination Project of 1984. Mark my words.”

“And you think you’re in with a shot?” Your tone is dripping in sneer.

Eddie regards you for a moment, so you know something deeply annoying is about to happen. His voice goes all serious, barely above a whisper, as he closes space between you like he’s trying to beat a draft.

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Lacy baby.” His hands brace either side of the sink you’re standing at, trapping you against him. See? No respect for boundaries. But– Hm. Not… that annoying. “Oversexed teenagers sharing the same bathroom– at Christmas, with all that mistletoe around and shit.” His eyes, searching you with a glint that’s s’posed to be provocative. You, elbow propped up by your folded arm, puff a plume of smoke into his face. He doesn’t even blink. Smirk pursing his lips up. The two of you have established a rhythm. “Anything could happen.”

“Ew, what the hell are you doing in here? This is the girl’s room.” Enter some upstart underclassman, and Eddie’s peeling away from you.

“You didn’t see the biblical flood on the second floor, Pippi Longstocking?” His voice is big and booming and bouncing off the tile, making the underclassman cringe. “Forcible takeover. This is my house now.”

“God, shut up, freak.” She shuffles by the two of you to a vacant stall with a look you recognize– she’s so telling her friends about those two trailer park abnormos just about copulating in the bathroom later.

“Great choice!” Eddie exclaims, door of the stall slamming, “I warmed the seat for ya!”

—

“Watch where you’re going, you almost milled down that stroller!”

“I wouldn’t need to go so fast if you two, freakin’ Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Priss Ass, didn’t insist on getting to this place before it closed!”

“We wouldn’t need to rush if you hadn’t spent all freakin’ afternoon at goddamn Lipton landing getting all– all–”

“All?”

“--toked up and shit!”

“Market research, Ecker! And, I’m gonna remember you said that! Later! When you want to get all toked up and shit– woah!”

Listening to Ronnie Ecker and Eddie Munson bicker in the front seat while you balance on a drum stool in the back of his van, clutching onto Ronnie’s passenger seat for dear life– no better way to get into the spirit of the season. You’d be joining in the milieu if you weren’t currently suffering from major motion sickness.

Eddie takes a harsh pull into a parking spot outside of Family Video and–“Go, go, go!”--you three load out like soldiers, locked on the target. He takes the lead, swinging the door open for the two of you ladies, but a voice calls out from the counter before Ronnie can even get a toe over the threshold.

“Oh, no– no way, no way!” Steve Harrington’s yelling from the helm of the ship, waving his hands. “We are– fifteen goddamn minutes away from close, I can’t do this tonight!”

“Highly unwise of you to turn away paying customers, Harrington!” Eddie gasps, Ronnie ducking under his arm.

“You guys come in here and spend honest-to-god hours talking shit in the aisles and– and you never even rent anything!”

“Well, your luck’s about to change!” Ronnie says, and Steve regards her with a mask of total confusion because, well, it’s likely he’s never heard her speak directly to anyone other than Eddie before.

That’s when you roll in the door under Eddie’s arm-arch, color rising in your cheeks that’s not from the cold.

“I am deeply reconsidering my association with you guys.”

“Tough shit.” “Find another trailer park.” “You love it. You love us. You’re obsessed.”

You pinch both of your hands towards them, the universal action to encourage zipping it, and cast a glance towards Steve. His shoulders relax. His vest is green and garish and a terrible color on him and… he’s wearing elf ears. And he’s Steve Harrington. And your stomach clenches, though it’s more muscle memory than anything else.

“Hey, Steve,” you smile, soft and small and not really all that there.

“Lacy. Hi.” He does smile at you, after a beat. “You responsible for these assholes?”

You hadn’t seen him since the night of his party, that grand inferno that had landed you here, standing between Eddie and Ronnie and feeling not entirely awful about it. Well, you hadn’t exactly seen him then either, except for a flash when Eddie was dragging you out of his house.

So, y’know, the blush is entirely justified.

“She’s bankrolling us,” Eddie says, closing the door to keep the heat in and speaking just to break the tension. True, too– you’d scored a part time gig at The Bookstore after a confrontation with the eagle-eyed Ivana regarding certain missing copies of Little Women, The Woman Destroyed and Fear and Trembling. You assumed you were working off the thievery, which you never directly admitted to and she never directly accused you of– but then, she paid you.

Ivana, it turns out, is incredibly pro-workers rights and even more incredibly anti-Hawkins gossip mill. Which works out a treat for you. The bookstore’s become more of a haven than it had been before.

“Can you scatter already?” you direct two thirds of your threesome towards the stacks. “Let’s make this breezy, I feel a wave of mortification rising.”

“No. I was promised in-store bickering,” Eddie says, rooting himself to the spot. You catch a weird flash of– something in his eyes. Ronnie, with her unlikely band geek strength, groans and yanks him toward the horror section. “It’s my favorite part! It’s like the pre-show!”

You take to the counter, gingerly, shyly. Why are you shy? Why, all of a sudden, after showing your ass in such a spectacular bruise-garnering fashion, are you shy to speak to Steve Harrington? Is it because Nancy’s dropped a tidbit here and there that he’s not exactly great boyfriend material? Is it because you sometimes secretly think, good, I hope you two are having a terrible time, even if you and Wheeler are making baby steps towards a friendship?

Is it because you never forget the first person that called you Lacy?

Fuck knows. Some of that.

“So you’re… what, hanging out now?” Steve asks, gesturing to the twin dipshits. There’s a bite in his voice from a former incarnation of Steve Harrington, one with (somehow) bigger hair and an unchecked ego. It doesn’t all shed at once, you figure. He’s sloughing it off and there’s still some left over, judging by the way he’s staring at Ronnie and Eddie.

You look over your shoulder to them. It would be so easy to deride it, right– only due to my unfortunate proximity to them, yes or girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do for a ride these days or it’s community service, I swear.

But you don’t. You turn back to him with a pinchy little smile. “I’m this close to getting them to let me play tambourine in their band. Can you even deal?”

Steve, after a beat and a brow furrow, sort of half nods. “Think I kind of… get that.”

You’re about to answer when another body comes barrelling in through the back.

“Just wanted to let you know, dingus, that I just got off the phone with Keith–you remember Keith, right, our manager who is currently in a war of words with our boss trying to keep this place open–and your little stock-take fuckup has cost us, like, weeks of manhours in work and–” Robin Buckley, complete with a light-up Santa hat, stops dead. Counts every person in the room. Shakes her head like she’s in a dream. “What is…”

“H–hi Robin!” Ronnie calls, her voice all squeaky– due to the scuffling headlock that Eddie has somehow managed to put her in without you and Steve even noticing. “Don’t worry, we– we’ll be out of your hair in a second!”

And Robin– wait, is Robin kind of… blushing? She backs down immediately, putting her Family Video branded binder flat on the counter. “Yeah, no… that’s totally okay, take your time!”

You look at Steve. Steve looks at you. You quirk an eyebrow like– is that, is she… And Steve shrugs like, don’t ask me, sister. Pleading the fifth. Saving Robin’s dignity.

But you’re still you and you’ve been bugging Ronnie about her situation for weeks so you hold up a finger.

“What are you two idiots arguing about?”

“Black Christmas–” “Silent Night, Bloody– ow, Ronnie, don’t pull hair, you girl!”

A swivel back to Robin, who is totally pink-cheeked. “We need a professional to settle this.”

Her mind seems to stutter like a badly wound tape. Oh, she’s suckered. “Uh– uh, Black Christmas, for sure. Not exactly the coziest thing to watch, but–”

“We’re not cozy people!” Eddie yells, Ronnie coming at him with arms like weed whackers.

“--but Margot Kidder, right?” you poke, goddamn Jimmy Page and John Bonham for the Midwest set slamming into the counter on either side of you.

“Olivia Hussey,” Ronnie says breathlessly. Eddie seems to have winded her somehow. “That’s– she’s cool–I heard she was in this–”

“Exactly!” Robin lights up, excited, “She– she played Juliet in Romeo and Juliet–”

“Wait, don’t you see her boobs in that movie?” Eddie jerks in.

“Yes,” Robin and Steve chime in unison. And glance at each other. Telling.

Ol’ Munson there snaps his fingers. “Sold.”

“But not in Black Christmas,” you say, almost gently, so as not to… let him down?

Eddie rolls his eyes and tilts his head toward your shoulder. “I’m a man with an imagination, ain’t I?” he rasps. You pretend-shudder.

“Okay, let’s do Black Christmas and– you got a copy of The Thin Man?”

Blink-blink goes Robin, like a cartoon. It’s nearly audible. “... like, the William Powell, Myrna Loy Thin Man?”

Your turn to roll your eyes. God, you guys love to roll your eyes, huh? “Is there any other?”

“Like the black and white movie. You’re sure? I just didn’t think it’d be your–”

But Eddie cuts right through that assumption that’s making an ass out of you and Robin, because he knows. He knows because you’ve made him sit through Double Indemnity at the Hawk, scolding him for putting his feet up (god forbid, right!) and you’ve even threatened to drag him to some Buster Keaton retrospective that’s playing there after the holidays. He keeps thinking, man, if Wayne Munson ever comes across this girl, he’s a goner, and then he remembers why that won’t be happening any time soon.

“She’s a freak.”

You regard him with a tight smile. Kind of a thanks, kind of a fuck you. Kind of your thing.

“I’ll watch it when these bozos pass out.”

—

Something’s gotten into Eddie.

You three are absolutely basking in the glory of your one night of freedom– see, Granny Ecker’s away on a weekend hotel stay in Indianapolis with one of her special friends from the Hawkins Senior Center. Which, on the one hand, gross, Eddie never ever wants to think about Granny Ecker getting lucky no matter how happy for her he is. But on the other, in the words of her beloved granddaughter–

“God bless the Indiana Sweepstakes!”

Eddie has stolen Granny’s usual spot, the kick-out recliner that seems to sag more with every movement. You and Ronnie are bunched onto the little two-seater together, with Ronnie shyly suggesting that you paint her nails (black, how totally hardcore)– now, Eddie knows this move. This is so she can distract herself from the bonafide creepiness of Black Christmas because while she tries to put on a brave face, Ronnie’s eyes for horror movies are way bigger than her stomach. She’s all nerves. It’s why she’s such a good drummer.

As you’d predicted, by the time the movie ends and you all clear the six pack that Eddie had procured, Ronnie’s nodding off– but Eddie is determined to stay wide awake. You make a move off the couch and she grumbles, having narrowly avoided propping her head on your shoulder. You move to arrange her in such a way that she’s sleeping Nosferatu style, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because I spent an awful lot of time on that polish and I won’t see it ruined, not on your account,” you chide, real quiet. Ronnie’s not listening, she’s pretend honk-shooing. Eddie, on the other hand, is.

He likes you like this. You’re sweet to Ronnie, in your prickly little way– making her flustered with your misdirected flirting, bonding with her about things so far out of the realm of his male understanding. Being a girl with her. It’s occurred to him that Ronnie, in her testosterone-soaked world of current comrades, might actually need that. Like, she’s friendly enough with Jeannie and that Vickie girl from band, but they’re not people she’d go out of her way to make a case for so’s that Granny Ecker will let them stay for dinner.

Which she’s done for you. Once or twice now. Which you’ve nervously accepted and even ruined your manicure for, by insisting on washing up the dishes. Eddie dried, because of course he did, because the Ecker trailer is the only place close to home that the two of you can hang out.

You’re, like– friends.

Which is horrible.

Eddie tosses you a cold can of soda from the fridge. You catch it, hands basketing above your head.

“Power forward.”

“Cheerleader.”

You lean over to the TV to swap the tapes out, insistent on watching your dumb little black and white movie. As you do it, your skirt lifts a little bit and–

Eddie’s gotta break eye contact. Stare at the floor for a second. Cock jumping like the fucking mole from whack-a-mole.

He almost hits it.

You bitch, are you wearing thigh highs?

“You need to pull trig, Munson?” he hears you from the kitchenette, clicking the video player’s play button. “You only had two beers.”

God, maybe. Was the room spinning? “Smoked a lotta weed today.”

“Right. Lipton landing,” you smirk. Ronnie’s derisive little nickname for Reefer Rick’s place. “Are you gonna get over here and snore through my movie or not?”

I do not snore, or some muttering of a similar fashion comes out but he’s doing exactly what you tell him to do. He can’t help it. Brain function gone all freaky from that flash of flesh squeezed out the top of your– yeah.

Eddie lands on the floor next to you with a little groan. Your eyes flick between him and the now-empty recliner.

“What are you doing down here?”

Oh. Busted. “I’m a gentleman, Lacy. Take the damn seat.”

Your face screws up in that silly way it does whenever he talks sense to you but you don’t wanna hear it. Brat. “No. I like to sit right up near when it’s something I really want to watch.”

A shrug of your little shoulder as you wrap your arms around your knees like a kid. Face illuminated by the greyscale on the television. Skirt rucking back against the carpet. Fuck.

Eddie lets out an unsteady breath, crawling forward to lie on his tummy. Closer to you. “You’re gonna get square eyes if you keep doin’ that, dorko.”

“Who died and made you my optometrist…” but you say it in this half-hearted, distracted way, eyes on the screen.

“Y’know, if you–” Eddie starts, eyes on the lace top of your–yes indeedy–stockings.

“Shut up,” and you tap him on the shoulder. “I love this part.”

Your hand stays there as some fancily dressed chick totally eats shit in the bar of some hotel or something. Christmas presents flying everywhere as she falls.

Women and children first, boys.

Say, what is the score anyway?

Oh, so it’s you he was after.

Hello, sugar.

Your hand stays there as you’re totally mouthing every single word, you true-blue nerd. Eddie, completely at a loss of how to react to this other than gaze, gaze, gaze at you, snaps his teeth at your hand.

You, so completely embroiled in Nick and Nora’s white hot banter, gasp at the near-bite and swipe at his head. Eddie dodges the blow by rolling onto his back, hair fanning out on the Eckers’ rug. He grins up at you, and all of a sudden the rise and fall of his chest in that worn-out Alice Cooper shirt is very distracting.

Pretty girl.

Yeah, she’s a very nice type.

You got types?

Only you, darling–

“--lanky brunettes with wicked jaws,” you say, beat-for-beat with William Powell.

“Talkin’ about me?” Eddie says, lips peeling back, eyebrows quirking.

“Not in your wettest, wildest dreams, Eddie Munson.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know what happens in those dreams. It’s filthy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s twisted. It’s disgusting.”

“I bet.”

His hand is absent-mindedly stroking his chest, shifting the hem of that t-shirt up a little bit. Brushstrokes. You remember that? Eddie Munson has a happy trail like–

“You’re so nice to me. It’s so fffffucking hot.”

“How wildly out-of-character,” you scoff, and he laughs, and you shift in your spot the teensiest bit. Eyes back on the screen, back to safety.

From here, where he’s lying, Eddie has a fully illustrated view of the flash of skin up your skirt. Now that you’re not looking at him, he’s looking at it. Swallowing back saliva. Ignoring Nick and Nora.

It’d be simple as pie to walk his fingertips along the rug and brush up against you there–oops–by accident or design. Feel how soft that skin is. Feel that heat radiating from your–

“It’s alright,” he hums, eyes flicking to the ceiling. Otherwise, all the blood’s gonna drain away from his head and he’s going to fucking die. “I know I’m not your type anyway.”

Your head lolls to your other shoulder, exposing a flash of your neck. It’s sorely missing a tongue running along it, he thinks, breath shuddering a touch.

“You wouldn’t know my type if it hit you with an eighteen wheeler.”

“Can Steve Harrington drive an eighteen wheeler?”

Lolling your head back in the most exaggerated form of exasperation, you groan. “God. The way you talk about Harrington, I’m willing to put money on the fact that you have a crush on him.”

Eddie shrugs, hand resting on his sternum. You had your hand there once, you recall.

“I got prescribed one on the first day of freshman year, just like everybody else. But it wore off.”

“Sure about that?” Your eyes narrow.

“Sure as I am that I saw you makin’ googly eyes at him at the Family Video tonight.” Eddie crosses his own peepers for effect. Your attention darts back to the screen.

“I was not–”

“You can just say it, Lace.” His face is a twisty little smirk, if you’d care to look. “Regardless of how utterly pedestrian it might be.” That was a dig at you, by the way. That was an almost eerie impression of you.

“The things I felt in seventh grade don’t really have a lot of gravitational pull on me anymore,” you shrug, not giving. Because, when you think about it, you don’t have to give. It was a baseless kind of thrill, seeing Harrington tonight. One hit wonder. “He’s a cute boy. Reminded me I have a pulse. Nothing wrong with that.”

Eddie’s quiet for a few seconds, flicks his eyes up to watch the TV from upside down. Nick places an ice pack on a drunken Nora’s head.

Hmm… what hit me?

The last martini.

He smiles as you smile, and he wonders if you’re thinking of the same thing he’s thinking of.

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Funny you mention seventh grade…” Eddie trails off, tugging at the rug underneath him.

“Funny ha-ha or funny peculiar?” Your voice is distant again.

“Little bit of both.”

“Why?”

Well, he thought you might be fucking with him, but– “... God, you really don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?” He sees your brow pinch, he’s getting to ya.

“Not a fucking clue.” No give, no glory, eyes on the peeling ceiling.

“Remember what?” You’ve snapped your neck and are looking down at him now, thirsty for him to fucking spill it already.

“Total–” he blows a raspberry, “--blackout before freshman year, right?”

“Eddie.”

His name makes him sit up. Pavlovian, sure, and he’s trying to deny the fact that he’ll do just about anything you say when you call him Eddie in that slightly-tinged sour way and not Munson like you’re writing him off. He’s trying to deny that. He swears.

“Nancy Wheeler’s thirteenth birthday party.”

You two are shoulder to shoulder, him facing the couch, you facing the screen, his breath warming the bare skin of your off-the-shoulder top which is an insane thing to be wearing in the dead of fucking winter, but praise Jesus hallelujah you’re wearing it. Your expression is unimpressed.

“... yeah?”

“We played Seven Minutes in Heaven.” He lays that out a little too plain for your liking. Playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at a thirteen year old’s birthday party is like the non-denominational Hora for pseudo-white bread Christian teenagers, at least in Hawkins. Everybody does that shit. But hold on.

“... you were there?”

“Fucking obviously, dimwit, that’s the setup to the whole story.” He sighs in a puff, and he’s very close to you. Chin almost on your shoulder like that night at the Quarry. “Tommy Hagan ripped into me for like, fifteen full minutes because my spin of the bottle landed on you.”

Confusion is a disease and you’re terminal. “That was… not you.”

Insistence is a disease and Eddie’s fatal. “Yes. It so was.”

“That was John Hudson-Wasserman.”

“That was not–,” Eddie full on splutters, like slapstick splutters, reeling his head away from you, “you’re gonna get me confused with John Hudson-Wasserman? The guy who was like, pathologically obsessed with the Kennedy assassination? The guy who moved to Des Moines like, two weeks after that party?”

Then you’re spluttering back all of a sudden. Everything you two are doing is contagious. “His parents named him after John F., can you blame him? –actually, I can totally blame him, that was bizarre.”

“Lacy.” Well, the way he says that straightens your spine. “Use that pretty little brain to think for a second, huh? There’s one unmistakeable detail I bet I can get to jog your memory.”

But you’re already there. Activated. Like a sleeper cell.

“Your hair was all buzzed off. You had that bandage on your head.”

“I did. And you asked me what was under it, and I said–”

A hole. They cut out a part of my brain so I’d be– The Wheeler’s linen closet was tiny and you were breathing in lavender detergent from all angles.

The boy in front of you, scrawny and angry, had an aura around him like a firework. You knew it was dangerous, but you wanted to look closer.

–less of a freak? you finished. Such was the accusation du jour for this kid.

Less of a danger to society, he said, chest puffed. They let me keep it in a jar. Just in case shit gets really real and I need to shove it back in.

You don’t quite know what to do with that. Like. He is so weird, and his hair is unevenly shaved and he’s got little cuts and scratches and scabs all over him. Like he’s been running through brambles. He looks like a kid someone found in the wild.

Did you name it? you ask, finger drawing circles on a nearby towel. Your jar brain.

Eddie Junior, he told you, crossing his arms.

Aren’t you already Junior? Shouldn’t it be Junior Junior?

His jaw hardened. No. I’m Eddie.

You nudged forward on your toes to get a better look at the bandage– he was taller than you. It lumped out of his head, unmissable. Nothing to be done about it.

He seemed to cringe away from you.

Don’t try anything, skank.

You bounce back onto your heels.

I wasn’t, asshole. We don’t have to do anything– just… like… did it hurt?

He paused for a full ten seconds (you counted) and swallowed real hard. Eyes wide as hubcaps, and dark, and frightened. He craned his neck toward you a little.

Then the door swung open, Tina Burton standing there hand-in-hand with an irritated-looking Steve Harrington. Time’s up, losers!

Al hadn’t asked if it hurt, when he beat the crap out of him for doing something so stupid. Wayne hadn’t even asked if it hurt, when Eddie came back from the hospital like a dog with its tail between its legs.

You were the first, and you were the last, and it was before everything. Before you were even Lacy.

“What happened, anyway?” you ask. Soft. Like that last time.

Now, in retrospect, Eddie sees the error of his ways.

“I lit all my hair on fire with a butane torch.”

“You what?!”

“It’s not– entirely my fault! I think I saw someone with hair on fire in an X-Men comic and I thought, y’know, that’s an achievable look.” That’s a severe understatement. It was Johnny Storm from The Fantastic Four and Eddie believed that he could be like Johnny Storm only more badass and maybe with like a sick motorbike. What, you’re telling me you didn’t go through a pre-teen-to-mid-teen phase where you were secretly convinced you had superpowers? Smarten up.

“And how high–”

“Yeah, okay, I was also hitting a Reddi-Wip can like crazy.” The nitrous oxide did not help these delusions.

“Why the big bandage?”

“Eh, I got some, like, bitsy little burn. Total overreaction.”

“Do you have a scar?” Before he can answer, you’re parting his hair, right near the place you remember that bandage being. Eddie freezes, your frigid fingertips searching his scalp. You are… very close.

“Uh– no, I don’t.” He gulps, avoiding looking at you directly in your bright, curious little face. “Can I tell you something truly fucking dumb?”

“Wouldn’t be out-of-character for you, that’s for sure.”

Deep, deep breath. Fucking shit fucking goddammit fuck. Balls. “I regret it.”

“The hair thing? Yeah, you’d think–”

“No. Not kissing you.”

“Oh.” Your hands drop from his skull but don’t exactly leave his hair. Just kind of wound in there, hovering, the way you feel like you’re hovering now.

“You asked me if it hurt, and then I was gonna– but then, fucking Tina–” Eddie says, eyes dashing to you in these minute little glances. Away, back, away, back.

“Fuckin’ Tina,” you breathe.

“--and Harrington.”

“Ah.” You shut your eyes. He didn’t notice you were wearing green eyeshadow until right now. “The square root of the problem.”

“Huh?” Barely heard it. Too busy looking at the glitter on your eyelids. The way your eyeballs shift around underneath.

“You’re totally lemon sour bitter with Harrington because you think he made you blow your shot with me.” You open your eyes with a squint.

“That is so not–” Break a spell, why dontcha! But then, Eddie takes a bite. “Actually, if you pop-psychology that, there might be somethin’ there, but… I regret it because I didn’t just–”

You cut in. “Go for it.”

“Shoot.” He confirms.

“Power. Forward.” You emphasize, lips curling.

“Cheer. Leader.” Eddie says, gravel in his voice.

Do you know that your hand is still in his hair? Like, are you physically aware of it? (Answer: no.)

Nick. Nicky?

What.

You asleep?

Yes.

Good. I wanna talk to you.

Your head swivels back from the screen. He watched you look away, dart your tongue out onto your lip, look back at him.

“Eddie.” There’s fizz in your voice.

“Yes, Lacy.” He wonders what flavor.

“I think…” and you finally extract your hand to lay it in your lap. Withdrawing, willing to be shot down, but you’re you and you know that you won’t be. “We could make a case for making up for lost time.”

Eddie’s mouth has become very dry. “... meaning that…”

“Eddie, I think that you should kiss me like a seventh grader– eighth grader? So weird, why did Wheeler have eight graders at her bir–”

“Lacy. Back on track, please,” which is another horrendously pin point perfect impression of you. And he needs to be sure that you just said what you just said and that isn’t the ghosts of Lipton landing talking.

“We should try it out. An honest-to-god, never-been-done-before Seven Minutes in Heaven kiss. I happen to think it’d fix something in you.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs.

“No, I’m serious!” And it is kind of fizzing out of you, and you might not be entirely just talking about him for this next part, “I think you’re holding onto a lot of pent up energy that may have just gotten even more pent since we became, y’know–”

“Zoo animals with parallel enclosures?” Eddie says with an arching eyebrow.

“Wow,” you swallow a breath. “That really sounded like me.”

“I’m afflicted with a Lacyism from time to time.”

“Is that like astigmatism? Because you should get that looked at.”

“Who died and made you my optometrist?”

“Eddie.” Your voice, coming from your face, which is all dappled in the unserene technicolor glow of the Eckers’ Christmas lights, highlighted by the blaze of the black and white on TV. You make it look like stained glass. He would walk into oncoming traffic– “You trust me, right?” He would go and play on the freeway if you asked him to.

Eddie, Christ, he’s got to gather himself. Like the sweat gathering on his palms, he thinks, great work ethic, I need some of that. He gets a bright idea, brighter than those twinkling lights. “I think I need full authenticity in order to make this experience worth it.”

“What?”

“We need to find a closet.”

It’s pretty much a hard no on whether or not the Eckers have a linen closet (you’re a long way from Maple Lane now, babe), so it’s agreed that you’ll give Granny Ecker’s wardrobe a shot. You follow Eddie in there with tentative steps, like you can almost feel her watching all the way from the Best Western in Indianapolis she’s no doubt staying in. Trespassing is bad, yadda yadda, but it’s also exciting.

It’s exciting, being in here with him.

He glances back at you, eyes a glimmer in the darkened bedroom. “After you,” and he flourishes a hand toward the open closet.

You two are so not seventh graders anymore– heads bang against hangers, you’re kind of melting into a lot of denim and fleece and you… you don’t have much breathing room. No lavender detergent, just the beer-and-old-weed-sweet smell of Eddie Munson pushed close to flush against your chest. The scent of that shampoo you both use caught somewhere in the middle.

Your breathing is so shallow, you feel like you might be having an asthma attack. You don’t have asthma.

“Tight,” he says, and knits his brows, “I mean–”

“Cozy,” you correct, unsure of where to put your hands.

“We’re not cozy people.”

“So let’s do this,” you attempt to smooth your face into something resembling nonchalance, “Kiss me like a seventh-or-eighth grader, Eddie Munson.”

He clears his throat, shaking his head. A smile keeps flicking and dying on his lips. Heart about to burst out of his chest because of how weird this is, because of how weird you are, because of how– how–

Eddie knits his fingers behind his back in an imitation of you, your girlish pose, and leans forward. About ninety percent, just in case you decide this was a stupid idea, or you don’t like the look of his face up close, or– or–

You close that perfect ten. Your lips feel like flower petals. Light. Baby-soft. Crushable.

It’s so chaste and it’s so innocent. It’s so the diametric opposite of the two of you, brash and harsh in your diverging, abstracting ways– waving only to meet in the middle. It’s pretty, like you are, and Thumper-from-Bambi-thumping-his-foot nervous like he gets around you.

You pull away a fraction, and Eddie swallows a sound. To save face, he is about to say something– I give it a six or that’s what I’ve been missing out on this whole time or you flap that mouth an awful lot for someone who doesn’t know how to use it, something equally goading. Something that would make this… normal.

Until you take his bottom lip between yours. And it’s wet there. And it’s warm. And your lips are so, so crushable–

Eddie’s fingers unweave and find your arms, find your waist. Slow, slow, he takes it slow because he could scare you and he doesn’t want to scare you. You’re curving into him, lips slicking against his, and then his tongue licking it’s way into your mouth which you just fucking open for him and it’s so good–

–and he tastes like salt and smoke and he holds you like he’s anchoring himself against you. Your hands wind on up, up, up his chest, catching on his t-shirt where his chest is (duh duh duh you fucking idiot), where his heart is thrumming under that smatter of a tattoo you got caught staring at that night in his trailer. It’s all you’ve got in you not to tug it up and off him, but Christ, no, because you need to keep kissing him. It’s so nice, it feels so nice, kissing him, when was the last time something felt as nice, that’s all you can think with sensation seeping through your body like a sugar rush. Hands move to either side of his neck and he makes a noise.

Your fingers, fishing hooks in his hair, pulling him closer and closer to you.

The heat. Of his body. Matched only by the heat gathering in the cherry pit that lives in your stomach.

And he needs, god, Eddie needs it fucking bad. It is a lot of things. It includes your tongue so far inside his mouth that you can taste the Tab on his uvula this time. It includes more of your tits pressed against him, so he can feel if your nipples have hardened under his touch. It includes this moment, just this moment, just kissing you as your body winds around him–

But then you pull back. Before he can whisper the little, “No…” that’s coming like a reflex, you cover his mouth with your hand. The mouth that’s all slick from kissing– you.

Jesus Christ. You had really done that. The stupid, idiot both of you.

“Guys?”

Eddie, dizzy and down-the-rabbit-hole tipsy Eddie, gets the impulse to lick your hand, to take your fingers in his mouth and just start sucking, but he doesn’t do it. Because he has now snapped to the fact that that’s Ronnie Ecker calling out for you.

The two of you, twisted around each other like snakes in her grandmother’s closet.

“Go,” you hiss– no, you breathe. He was just expecting you to hiss. But you’re breathy and unsure about the command you’re giving. Still, you jerk your head.

Well, Eddie’s pretty hard up about telling you this, but, “Can’t. Need a sec–” Like, can’t you feel that?

Eddie’s standing more than half to attention, pressing in between the both of you.

You let out a jagged breath that sounds like oh, fuck, and it’s not the kind of oh, fuck he was hoping to hear and his heartbeat stutters.

And then you’re gone.

Eddie stands there, hands held aloft around the ghost of you that was there, that was right there and kissing him. Like you meant it, like it wasn’t an experiment or a joke or a dare or anything other than what you wanted. You wanted him. You wanted him. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” he breathes into his hands, dragging them down his face, his lips, the smell of you still lingering around him. “Oh… I am so fucked.”

Kentucky fried fucked.

You make your way back to the living room on trembly legs, reaching for every steadying surface, attempting to destroy the evidence of a swollen mouth and Munson-finger ruffled hair. You find Ronnie sitting upright on the couch. Nick and Nora have nearly solved the case. You don’t give yourself enough time to make a mask of your face that could easily lie to her.

“Munson had to pull trig,” you say, and it’s not steady enough for Ronnie to not call bullshit.

But she doesn’t. Not outright anyway.

“He okay?” she asks, nearly wary.

“I don’t know. Could be comin’ out of both ends, I don’t know,” you start scrambling around for your bag and your shoes and your coat and not your right mind because you left that back in the closet, somewhere between Eddie’s teeth and tongue. “Look, I hate to ditch on you, but my mom–”

“She’ll be on your ass,” Ronnie says, measured like a cup. “Sure. Go on. I’ll think about calling 911 if he chokes.”

Breathing out some piss-poor rendition of a thanks, you dip out of Ronnie’s and past his van and all the way back the lot towards home.

It’s freezing. You’re not. For once.

When Eddie finally reappears from the closet, Ronnie is sitting in the exact same position. Except this time she looks somewhat judgier– maybe because it’s easier to be judgier toward Eddie than it is toward you. Some kind of girl politico he doesn’t understand.

“You feel better?”

“Huh?” Eddie says. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Do you feel better. Lacy told me you had to barf.”

“I… I guess.” Eddie has already cashed in his once-in-a-lifetime lie convincingly to Ronnie Ecker voucher.

“She also told me you maybe shit yourself?”

Alright, well, that was unnecessary. “Alright, well, that was unnecessary.”

“I guess I was just hoping that…” she sighs, crossing her arms, “... that you weren’t puking and shitting yourself…” she sits back against the couch, “... when you were making out with her. In my… bathroom?”

He really does consider leaving out this detail. “Granny’s closet.”

“Oh, you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“She’ll know. She’ll kill me.”

“Oh, she’ll kill ya,” Ronnie mutters, “And then I’ll go to work on ya.”

—

You two have got to stop fucking each other over like this.

Fucking each other over, conceptually, actually, is interesting. Because Eddie’s done a whole lot of fucking you over in his mind since that closet. Sliding your panties aside and fucking you with his tongue, polyester lace of your stockings creating static against his hair, sparks snapping off your inner thighs as you rub against his nose.

Following you back to your trailer and fucking you with his fingers against the cold, metal exterior, your nails digging into his neck and your voice stabbing his name into his eardrums.

Pulling you into his lap in the driver’s seat and tearing through the cotton of your underwear with sheer animalistic fervor, making you lean back against the steering wheel as he sucks your tightened nipples, cock safe and warm in the slick, deep wet of you.

Somethin’ like that. He didn’t sleep much this weekend.

Mind stuck on the one track, your lips smacking against his. Now in fabulous 3D!

In every single one of these fantasies, too, his idiot sap ass is whining your name fifty billion times more than you’re whining his– so much so that it breaks the fantasy barrier and he’s crying, “Fuck, Lacy-yy–,” into his limp pancake of a pillow, cum careening down a fist that should have nerve damage by now.

He is exhausted. And to make it worse, he hasn’t seen you.

He hasn’t even been avoiding you this time. So that’s all on you, you bitch.

“You bitch…” he mumbles, head resting against the cold brick of the newly-unisex senior bathroom, which has become a hellhole in no time. First period on a Monday is usually an okay time to get a bit of peace and fucking quiet, though, because everyone else is at least making an attempt at starting the week off on the right foot.

But not Eddie. Not worn out, prick-tired Eddie.

And not whoever is doing a horrible job of hyperventilating in the stall next to him.

“Excuse me?” a breathless voice says. He thinks he kinda recognizes it but–

Then, ew! Some gagging, some violent coughing, a little ugh, Jesus, please not again–

Eddie slides out of his stall and knocks on the next door– and it swings open with ease.

She’s crouched over the cistern–gross, fucking gross–and tears are streaming down her peachy cheeks, catching on her pointed chin.

“Christ, Wheeler. S’matter, you pregnant?”

Nancy Wheeler’s eyes flash in a flare of rage, a choked scoff spitting out of her. She’s about to fucking cuss Eddie out, it looks like, which he kind of wants to see, but then whatever straw that’s holding that together snaps and she lets out this wild sob of total incredulity.

Ohhh, as much as he would love to bolt out the door like it’s not his problem, Eddie realizes that this has now, somehow, somewhat become kind of his problem.

—

“I gotta talk to you.”

Ronnie Ecker appears like a lightning flash, knocking you clean out of your reverie of slowly crawling fingers and lips and teeth and guilt that had been plaguing you all weekend.

You had spent most of the last forty eight hours staring into the middle distance, ready to glue upright nails into your shoes and walk on them for penance. You fucking stupid slut. Kiss me like a seventh-eighth grader, Eddie Munson. You unbelievable fucking cowshit. See, because, okay, do you know what you’ve done?

You’ve taken the first real friendship you’ve possibly ever had in your life (save for Phoebe, God rest her soul that moved to Saskatoon) and completely entirely fucked it sideways, and sure, you’ve also spent a lot of the weekend thinking about other things getting fucked sideways, like you since you’re now cursed with the knowledge of the vague suggestion of the outline of Eddie Munson’s dick but moreso, foremostly and mainly you want to fucking take a swandive off the edge of Sattler’s Quarry.

Addendum– there’s too many quarries in this fucking county.

A ping-ponging of guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-orgasm-to-guilt-to-slinking your way to first period the long way that’s only now broken by Ronnie Ecker coming down on you like an Acme anvil.

Meep meep.

She knows. Of course she knows.

“Ronnie,” you whisper, eyes following her as she lands herself into the aforementioned Munson’s seat behind you, “I can explain…”

“Don’t!” There is this vigor, this knife’s edge in Ronnie’s voice that is terrifying and kind of thrilling but mostly scary and having been in the presence of Granny Ecker even those few times, you knew she always had it in her.

You recoil. A little.

“If Eddie wants to be a fucking moron about you, please can we just let him, and not–” Ronnie’s mouth clamps closed like a Muppet’s might. Like she’s physically trying to calm herself down. “Look. I really like being your friend.”

Oh, Christ, your heart. “I r– I–”

“You’re dogshit with the emotional stuff, I get that, but I’ve been friends with that asshole so long that wearing my heart on my sleeve is like, second fucking nature so I’m not and I’m pissed off, frankly, that there’s a chance of him coming between, like… us.”

You and Ronnie. You, and your friend Ronnie. “Oh, it’s–”

“Because technically, by absolute technicality, I was your friend first, okay? We were lab partners first and I thought we had a vibe goin’ in Biology and I was the first person you wanted to talk to at the Hellfire table even if it was a thinly veiled ploy but you’re so good at ploys and you’re such a piece of work and you’re so funny and I wouldn’t know what Ponds cold cream actually does if it wasn’t for you. Fuck.”

“Granny’s a soap and water girl.” There’s a fluttering in your chest and a thickening in your throat. You swallow big, and you think you might actually start– “This doesn’t mean I’m gonna try fencing, Ron.”

“But it’s fucking cool, even if we do it with sticks.”

You take her in, baseball cap shoved over her coiled hair, darned-all-to-hell sweater sagging out under her overalls and you really feel like something is about to bust out of your chest. Your honest-to-god friend, Ronnie Ecker.

“Miss Ecker, last time I checked, that’s not your assigned seat.” God, Kaminsky’s such a relentless dickwad.

“I’m having a conversation,” Ronnie says, with the kind of as-yet-unheard volume from her that makes the rest of the class go ooooh!

Jesus fucking Christ, have you turned Ronnie Ecker into a bad girl?

“I don’t give a shit!” rumpled Kaminsky says, slapping that dusty chalkboard duster full of dust, “Have it in detention.”

“Hey! That’s–”

But if you can do one thing for Ronnie. “No can doozy, Mr K, Miss Ecker has a prior commitment.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, not you again,” he mumbles not-quite-under his breath. “And what is that? Lacy?”

Before you can even say the words peer tutoring, none other than Eddie Munson is barrelling through the door. He stops comically short at the top of the classroom, gesturing to Ronnie in his seat like what the fuck?

“Lacy!” he eventually says, and he’s breathless and flustered and just like you imagined him in–

“Munson, what in the name of the goddamn Father Almighty–”

“Weekly Streak–” and guy is just snapping his fingers, blinking wildly at you, “–thing!”

You stare on in a state of confusion until you spy Nancy Wheeler right in your eyeline, right through the open classroom door. Her little face streaked with tears, and god, she looks like shit, and she’s beckoning to you with a flutter and a fury.

“No, of course!” a little murmuring, uh, shit, and you hurry to the top of the classroom, slamming the homework that Kaminsky’s obviously going to ask for on his desk with a rattle.

“Kaminsk, my man, the future of print media is forever in your debt!” Eddie calls, ushering you out the door and into the echoey hallway.

“What is going on?”

Both Eddie and Nancy shuffle you down the hallway, avoiding the monitors (rat finks!), dipping under the east stairwell. A great stairwell. So much illicit shit has happened in this stairwell and you have an itemized list of it all, somewhere in your brain. The kind of person people tell things to.

Nancy’s just full tilt gulping like a fish out of water, and Eddie’s all, “Wait, shit, are you gonna barf again?” and you’re all, “Answers, please, tout suite!”

“I’m late.” Nancy’s voice doesn’t even tremble. She’s that scared.

“Fuck.”

“Very?”

“Extremely.”

“You’re sure?” you press, and suddenly you’re the kind of person that grabs Nancy Wheeler’s shoulders.

Her lip trembles. “I mean, I haven’t–”

“Well, we gotta. Right now.” And it occurs to you that Eddie is just standing there, a polite enough distance away that he’s involved but kind of not involved, but respecting the space that you two need. How does he know how to do that? How does he always know the right… “Eddie.”

He snaps to attention, mouth all serious and eyes all eager. You want to kiss him again, but this shit is not about you.

“We need a ride to the drugstore.”

The three of you pile into Eddie’s van, him insisting on doing the honors of opening the passenger door for you again, and Nancy quietly requesting that you share the passenger seat with her. You two are squished together, her spindly thighs overlapping yours. Denim versus dark suede. There is a very tense silence in place the entire van ride there, Nancy digging her nails into her palm and Eddie nervously thrumming against the steering wheel. The tape deck plays resumes mid-play– Metallica’s Ride the Lightning.

For your part, you experience a harsh zoom-out moment– Nancy, who you’ve learned is almost as strong-headed as you, just on a better moral track (lawful good versus chaotic neutral, you think Eddie once framed it), is stranded. She’s the eldest sibling to that little shitstain Michael and Holly, who’s a baby so to you has no discernible personality, and her mother is kind of an airhead and her father… you don’t know shit about, but it’s Hawkins, so dads. The responsibility of everything seems to fall on her all the time, and you can only be so resourceful as a teenage girl in a town like this. Especially when the other teenage girls seem to, at best, keep you at arm’s length, or at worst, ostracize you.

And Nancy had lost Barbara Holland. Who, when she mentions her, is talked about with such a glow that’s followed by such a wave of sadness that it nearly takes you under too.

She misses her so much. She misses her best friend so much.

Barb should be the one dealing with this. Not you. Which sounds like you’re shirking responsibility. But really, it’s because you don’t know if you fully deserve the privilege of helping Nancy.

Truth is, Nancy would probably be okay, handling this on her own. Sure, it’d be another inch of depth added to the chasm of loneliness building in that poor girl’s psyche, but she’d do it, because she’s Nancy and she handles things.

Just like you’re Lacy and you handle things.

But however Eddie Munson ended up as part of this situation… he brought her to you. Because he knew you’d know what to do. So she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

Because Eddie doesn’t want people to do things alone.

You only really have that impulse if you know how terrible it feels.

And if you don’t see kindness as a weakness.

Which Nancy doesn’t. And Eddie doesn’t. And you… don’t want to, anymore.

You reach and peel Nancy’s fingernails from the grooves they’re digging into her flesh. You don’t even look at the half-moon marks they’ve made. You just glue her palm to your palm and web your fingers. And over the frizz of Nancy’s perm–the nice kind, salon kind, the kind that doesn’t stink of egg–you look at Eddie, just as he glances at you.

He smiles, small and unsure and wavering. You bite your lips between your teeth and try the same.

“Shit, I don’t think I can go in here.”

The van has skidded into an inconspicuous (but not entirely, because have you seen that fucking vehicle) place near the drugstore.

“Why?”

“People– the pharmacist knows my mom and everything,” Nancy shudders, “There’s no way that people won’t have something to– fucking say.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and you give him a look like, welcome to the Nancy Wheeler Actually Swears Club. Care for a canape?

And y’know, you could argue so what. So what if people have something to say. You’re young, mistakes happen, the world keeps turning. But one skip in a perfect twelve-inch record of reputation like Nancy’s can make her life a living hell. You know that.

Shit, she knows that– you weren’t not aware of that stroke of creative genius vandalism that went up on the Hawk marquee that one time.

And it would shatter Nancy’s mom’s heart. And while you don’t have the same time of day for her, Nancy really loves her mom.

Once you’ve ruined your reputation, you can live quite freely.

That moveable feast motherfucker was onto something.

Click, and Eddie’s glovebox pops open in a clatter of tapes and a one-hitter and other ephemera. You reach in, retrieving sunglasses you’d left in here a little bit ago.

“So let’s give ‘em something to talk about,” you say, sliding on the shades.

Nancy clutches your arm, eyes wide and searching. “Lacy.”

You shrug, like it’s nothing. Except nerves have started nibbling at you. “Spot me a ten. What am I, a goddamn Rockefeller?”

“Not anymore,” Eddie Munson grins at you. Sun breaking through the bleak midwinter. The nerves cease their nibbling.

—

The tension doesn’t exactly ease when you make a beeline for the drugstore (particularly because you’ve just accepted a goddamn miniature hero’s quest and he’s a little… well, he’s not not watching your ass as you walk away, let’s put it that way).

Eddie and Nancy Wheeler are still absolutely enormous universes apart. Not even the same species. He doesn’t mind keeping it that way. This right here is just, like… the right thing to do.

He moves to turn the radio down, figuring that the thrum of Fade to Black might be a little much for her right now. “Sorry. Didn’t mean for–”

“No, it’s okay.” Wheeler smiles that flat, priss smile reserved for the barest of polite gestures.

Eddie nods, propping his elbow against the window, cupping his face in his hand. He keeps kind of sneaking sidelong glances toward Wheeler, because– well, had you told her anything? About… Seven Minutes in Heaven? Does she even remember that, from her birthday party all that time ago? He knew that you two weren’t exactly tight, but were well on your way to getting tight, but not as tight as you are with Ronnie and certainly not as tight as you are–or were–with him and Jesus Christ almighty, he’s got to find a synonym for the word tight.

“You… play Dungeons and Dragons, right?” Wheeler asks all of a sudden.

Eddie glances down– he is in fact wearing his Hellfire shirt. She’s a sharp one, that Nancy.

“I dabble,” he says, a derisive little chuckle that’s not all-the-way mean spirited.

Wheeler bobs her head. “My brother, Mike,” she says, and he sees now that it’s an effort to keep her nerves steady, “he loves it. Like, he’s totally obsessed. Him, and his friends, they’ve got their own little party going. Majorly long campaigns, very involved.”

“Campaigns, parties. Using terminology like that, I’d say you’re something of a dabbler, Wheeler.”

Nancy chuckles. “I– may have dressed up as an elf for one. Or two. When I was way, way younger, though.”

“Well, your brother– Mike?” Eddie checks and Nancy nods, “Once he gets to high school, why dontcha tell him to look up Hellfire. Could be the best-worst decision he’ll make for the next four years of his life.”

“Right, because you’ll be passing the torch,” she says, grinning.

“And possibly to a Wheeler. Oh my stars and garters,” Eddie gasps, clutching his chest in mock-shock.

Wheeler laughs and, okay, maybe she’s not so bad.

“Shoot, we have movement.” And out you come, holding the Advance pregnancy test over your head, gleaming and victorious– but Eddie and Nancy flap their hands, willing you to put that fucking thing away! We’re being subtle!

Climbing back in the van, you announce, “Alright, so the good news– no doctoral interference, obviously. The wonders of modern medicine, everybody give thanks to Johnson and Johnson, et cetera. The bad news– who knows of somewhere we can steal–” you glance back at the box, “--thirty glorious uninterrupted minutes of time?”

“Lacy, I can just–” Nancy starts, but you stop her short with a tap to the head.

“And have you sitting in class all day with your guts churning because you don’t know what’s up or down that spout? I think the fuck not. We’re doing this now.” This is out of the goodness of your heart, you swear it is.

But there might be a fraction, just a generous sliver, that still loves the drama.

Like Steve Harrington, it’s not an immediate shed of the ego. It’s a slough.

“Well, my place is a no-go,” Nancy tells you, shrugging into herself. “My mom will definitely be home.”

“Ditto,” and your mother is the only person you know that loves gossip more than you do. Besides Eddie, of course.

After a beat or two of wondering silence, Eddie raises a hand. “I may… have someplace… we can go.”

—

How many cherry bombs does it take to make a boy’s bathroom look like the bombing of Dresden?

“So fuuun fact, turned out that some nerd swiped a hunk of sodium from the Chemistry lab and just blew this mother to shit,” Eddie brightly informs you and Nancy as the two of you pour over the instructions for the pregnancy test kit.

“While everyone was distracted by Heather Holloway’s implants, you mean?” you murmur, scanning over the small-sheet size booklet.

“Streets are saying she was an accomplice.”

Holy fuck, these instructions were involved. Nancy stands clutching the little rectangular tray that her pee is supposed to go in, nailing Eddie with a look beyond normal categorical nerves. “You’re sure no one’s gonna come in here?”

He shakes his head. There might as well be police tape all over the door of this bathroom, that’s how off limits it is. “It’s cold, it’s broken, it smells gross. Maybe some people are using this place to huff paint, but I can guarantee, Wheeler–” and he bends a little to meet her earnest eyes, “--I will bark like a fucking rabid dog to clear ‘em away if I need to.”

Nancy nods shortly. Jerk, jerk. She disappears into the least dilapidated stall with her pee rectangle.

“God, she is so scared,” Eddie murmurs to you, crossing his arms.

You’re still studying the instructions. This shit has droppers and test tubes and color changing strips, oh my. “Pissing shouldn’t be a problem, then.”

Wrong.

“Guys.”

“Yes?” “Yeah, Wheeler?”

“I’m a little, ahem–” Bladder shy. Perfect. Awesome. Not that you guys aren’t going to be shacked up here for thirty minutes anyway, but that’s only after Nancy Wheeler goes number one and you, like, mix up the pregnancy oracle potion.

Shit. “We’ve gotta do something to like, make her chill out–” Eddie half-mouths at you.

“Yeah, but she’s so high strung, that’s like–” a spark hits you. “Wait, have you got anything on you?”

“Fresh out. Waiting on a shipment from Lipton landing.”

You smack him, not even thinking, and he winces. “And all that shit you were smoking the other day, that was–” “That was market research, babe, and I told you that–”

Nancy clears her throat from inside the stall. “Please, don’t quit bickering on my account. I’m only trying to figure out whether or not I need to start rehearsing lullabies.”

Damn Nancy, Eddie mouths and you almost laugh. Wait.

“Nance, what’s your favorite song?”

“Huh?”

You shake your hands. “Like, the song you absolutely cannot go without hearing? The one that makes you feel, just–”

“Ticklish?” Eddie suggests, the paragon of knowledge, the pinnacle of your annoyance. You thump him again. “I need a safe word.”

“Um– uh…”

“C’mon, Wheeler, the song that makes you feel just… awesome and chill and on top of the fucking world, c’mon!” Eddie encourages, kicking detritus around the bathroom floor.

Nancy eventually, eventually mumbles something.

You pivoting around on your heel by the sink. “Louder, Wheeler, I wasn’t born with sonar.”

“It’s– it’s ‘Just What I Needed’.”

What? Eddie mouths to you, arms binding across his chest.

“What, like– The Cars, ‘Just What I Needed’?”

A pause from Nancy’s end. “... yeah.”

You know this song. You know that song, right, it’s like duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-DEW-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-DEW… Shaking yourself out, you brace up like a boxer heading into the ring.

“Gimme a lead in, Nancy.” Holy fucking shit, you’re really doing this. Nancy hesitates, probably because she can’t believe any of you are really doing this.

A mumble… “I don’t mind you comin’ here…”

“--and wastin’ all my time!” you jump in, “”cause when you’re standin’ oh so near, I kinda lose my mind…”

Visions of a plush lilac bedroom, yours, and a mountain of clothes and makeup and drained wine cooler bottles on the floor. You, standing on your bed in your socks and shorts, vamping– Tina and Carol singing hairbrush backup, Nicole on air guitar and Cass smoking out the window. There were flashes of this, you know, when it wasn’t all boiling vitriol and subtle shivving and one-up-manship. When you and those girls that you wished you weren’t near but knew you needed actually felt like friends.

A memory like that makes you feel empty.

“It’s not the perfume that you wear,” oh my god, “It’s not the ribbons–in–your–hair,” is he really, “And I don’t mind you comin’ here– and wastin’ all my time!”

Why the fuck does Eddie Munson know this song?! Your jaw drops open, your eyes go wide and your feet stamp against the tile like a goddamn kid. Yes! Yes! Amazing! You’re both so fucking out of tune, like there is absolutely a reason he does not sing a single note in Corroded Coffin but by god alive, you’re giving it everything you got in that fucked up boy’s bathroom.

Eddie’s so much better at it than you are, pouring every bit of obnoxious showmanship into it that he possibly can– complete with pulling you in for a fully nonsensical dance number. You spin into him, crashing into his chest with a clumsiness you never thought possible, laughing so hysterically that you can barely get the words out. He’s holding the reins, and holding that falsetto so badly you think the mirrors will shatter.

Your skin is buzzing, your heart is hammering and Eddie is pressed against your back and you are both scream-singing to the door of Nancy’s cubicle– “I guess you’re just what I needed! Just what I needed! I needed someone to feed– I guess you’re just what I needed! Just what I needed I needed someone to–”

“Pee! Pee, you guys, I’m peeing!” Nancy’s voice, bright and high from actually laughing, rings from the busted toilet.

You and Eddie erupt into a triumphant yell, him shaking you like a rag doll against him. The laughter peels away and then it’s just kind of him, looking at you from over your shoulder. His arms wrapped tight around your waist. His lips, a little cracked. Breath a little labored. Lashes still so long. You nearly–

The door flings open and he jumps away from you first. Nancy heads toward the sink and you resume the position, helping her figure out the Chemistry play set that holds the answer to how the rest of her life pans out. Thirty whole minutes, they’ve got to wait.

Nancy notes the time on her watch.

She even suggests that you guys can go at one point, but Eddie reminds her that a) he’s keeping an eye out for paint huffers and b) “... y’know, maybe it’s not so great to…” “Do this on your own,” you finish for him. Nancy nods, silent and grateful and so fucking nervous.

At about the seventeen minute mark, when you and Eddie have smoked four cigarettes each and Nancy has tried a puff of one (“Nope,” she hacks, “still totally vile…”), Eddie tosses this stink bomb between you two. Nancy has excused herself to stand with her head against the cubicle door. Something about calming her nerves. Coming up with a plan. Something to tell Steve, no doubt.

So it’s just you and Eddie, you sitting on the edge of the sink and Eddie rhythmically kicking the wall.

“You ever wanna be a mom?”

“Jesus, what a time to land that one on me.” You almost make a joke like you haven’t even stuck it in me yet, but that’s in bad taste. And implies a yet.

Eddie smiles over his shoulder, fluttering his eyelashes. Stupid. Stupid eyelashes. “Grounds of relevance.”

You pinch your lips between your teeth. “... fine. But, I fully reserve the right to change my answer given the fact that we are eight-shitting-teen years old.”

He points to the cubicle and mutters, “Well, she’s seventeen.”

You, wide-eyed at his dumbassery, mouth I know!

“Okay. Sorry. Go.”

“Fuuuuuck no. No babies pour moi, merci, c’est bon, au revoir!”

Eddie turns to lean against the wall, propping one leg up. God, but he does lean great.

“Why?”

“Genetic fate.”

“Huh?”

A sigh flutters out of you, shoulders slumping forward. “A certain… how do you say, thread of assholery runs through my family, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

Eddie nods sagely and you kind of want to punch him for it. “Daddy issues. Right.”

“Uh!” A hand flies up in your defense. “Let who among us here without them cast the first stone.”

From the cubicle, Nancy calls, “Not me.”

Surrendering, Eddie grumbles, “Yeah, not me either.”

“Glad we agree.”

There’s another tick and tock of silence, and you get the distinct feeling of something being pried open in the atmosphere.

“... whatever happened with your dad, anyway?”

Ah. The million dollar question. Whatever happened with your dad, so-called upstanding member of the Hawkins community, poor little poor boy done rich, scaling his way up the ladder of property management in this delightful little Midwestern enclave?

“Not a big fan of the news, are we, Munson?”

He seems to grimace at you tugging on his surname. “Print’s too small.”

“Taking offense to that,” Nancy chimes.

“It was the big ‘E’,” you say, kind of not into bantering about it.

“‘E’... ‘E’... ‘E’...” Eddie kicks the wall on each utterance. Possibly forgetting that he could also be the big ‘E’, if he wanted. You wonder if, just in terms of size…

“Embezzlement, Eddie,” you cut that thought off cold.

His eyes widen, eyebrows shooting under his shaggy bangs. “Shooooot.”

“Score.”

“What all did he, like… embezzle?”

The raising of the hackles is not entirely intentional. “Y’know who’d be able to answer that question, Eddie?”

But he sees it. He calms it. In unison, you both shrug, “Al Munson.”

Boom! Cubicle door flies open again. You’re starting to think that Nancy might just love making an entrance. Lot of flourishing happening here. Not entirely unlike Eddie in that way.

“It’s time.”

Each and every one of you beeline to where the test is set up on one of the sinks. Nancy gingerly plucks the offending strip from the test tube and Eddie, a man with money on his mind, asks another million dollar question. “So how do you know…”

You grab the instruction leaflet that you’d been tearing corners off of, making it look nearly moth-bitten. “Wait, it’s white, right?”

“It’s white,” Nancy whispers.

“It’s not, like… off blue, or…”

“No, that is white,” she’s trembling. “Is white– is that good, or– I can’t remember.”

“Nancy Wheeler…” you breathe, peeking over the paper, “Congratulations. You are nobody’s mother!”

She emits a shriek like nothing you’ve ever heard and barrels straight into you, near knocking you off your feet with a strength you didn’t know this little waif was capable of possessing. Her arms wrap boa constrictor tight around you, her words bubbling over like a shook up can of pop. “Jesus Christ, I’m so relieved, I just– I–!”

“You’re relieved?!” Eddie yells, ringed hands tearing down his face, “I’m way too young to be an uncle! Fuck! Thank god!”

Nancy chokes out a laugh through her tears, tears of relief, thank god and– and you don’t know if it’s selfish and you don’t know if it’s possible but you hope… you hope that’s helped close the chasm. Just a little bit. That she didn’t have to do this all alone in a shithouse bathroom that smells like sulfur and piss.

Breaking away from you (damn, you wish you knew how to hug), Nancy straightens herself up. Not that she needs to. She’s a pretty crier, that bitch.

“Just one more thing, you guys.”

“Anything,” you say before you even know you’ve said it.

“This is… between us, okay?” her eyes dart from you to Eddie, and you both take a step closer to her. Ceremoniously, Nancy holds out her two pinkie fingers. You link. Eddie links. His finger looks comically large compared to hers– and yours, when he reaches and hooks it around your unsuspecting baby finger.

“No one can know. No one needs to know.” There’s that headstrong Wheeler reserve you’d been missing.

“Cross my heart,” you proclaim.

“Hope to d– well, I don’t hope to die, that’s a little dramatic–”

“Eddie!” you both bark, varying degrees of amusement. Yours is on the lower end. “Swear on something real,” you push.

He hesitates a moment, then gives Nancy a look. “Alright. Swear on Hellfire.”

“Swear on Hellfire,” Nancy grins all tight, and kisses her right hand, hooked into Eddie’s finger. “Lacy?”

“Swear on Hellfire…” You mumble, rolling your eyes and kissing your Nancy’d hand. You need to swallow, first, before you tug your hand that’s hooked into Eddie’s toward your mouth.

And he does the worst thing. He leans down to meet your gaze, suckering you right in as his lips pout. They’re hungry. You’ve met those lips. “Swea-aar,” he sing-songs.

“--on Hellfire, okay,” you scoff, half-laughing into the little kiss.

“Ha!” Eddie barks, so fucking loud that it jumps off the walls. “Trick! You just made a deal with the devil, ladies, so I hope you enjoy eternal damnation at the hands of yours truly!”

Dumb as he is, Eddie might be right. If the way you’re looking at him is anything to go by.

author's notes: MERRY CHRISTMAS MOTHERFUCKERS. WE GOT IT WE DID IT WE MADE THEM KISS WE MADE THEM REALIZE SOMETHINGS NOT ALL THE THINGS SURELY BUT IT'S. IT'S SOMETHING. IT'S A START! on to the fun bits, like the jokes in the christmas crackers - absolutely obsessed with the mental image of eddie munson's bangs grown too long and he looking like this - cherry bombs down the john is a reference to the classic prank but mostly to american graffiti my beloved. later in the chapter, eddie says that some kid just threw some sodium down there which is something i read about on this reddit thread when researching cherry bombs. domestic terrorism at hawkins high! - p.t. barnum is that mfer that the greatest showman is based on. horrible man! not a fan! - heather holloway's jayne mansfield titties got me thinking about the jayne mansfield-sophia loren photo which has its own wikipedia page??? anyway, lacy coded! - black christmas is a stunning christmas horror film from 1974, which is loosely in part based on a bunch of murders that happened in the westmount neighborhood in montreal, quebec. fun fact, i just moved back from mtl after living there for a year. anyway black christmas kicks ASS - lipton landing is 100% a juno reference. big up my king elliot page - the thin man is one in a series of fantastic lil films from the 1930s all about nick and nora charles, a married couple that get drunk and SOLVE CRIMES. i'm not doing it justice by describing it that way but myrna loy and william powell are the royals of married banter and i model everything i write after their rhythm, more or less. - you're trying to tell me eddie munson didn't do whippets as a kid fucking wise up - one of my personal precious favourite recurring jokes in this series is 'who died and made you my x' and baby. i love a recurring joke - ronnie saying "oh she'll kill ya. then i'll go to work on ya," is a special reference because a) it's from my favourite film of all time, ocean's eleven and b) ayo edebiri, who i've fancast as ronnie ecker, has an ocean's eleven tattoo. we are sisters and also wives! - meep meep! - all i could think about when writing about how guilty lacy was - another metallica needle drop!!!! - pregnancy tests in the 80s really were that insane and involved! there's a great scene in glow (rest in fucking PEACE! gone but never forgotten) of alison brie's character using one, and here's more of the history - maybe the best needle drop of this whole series imo - finally peeped into those daddy issues. look forward to more of that and with that my hellcats, i wish you the merriest of holiday seasons wherever you find yourself and whatever you're doing. i will be back after the christmas break because i have to fully wreck my bank account and see every single person i have ever known and drink every espresso martini on dry land. sorry if there's typos in this, i have been labouring over it for... ever. reblogs, comments, likes and asks are always appreciated and i love you so much it's bordering on criminal! thank you!!!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #published by powder

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bitchinbarzal · 10 months

Text

growing gigi | dad!luca au

week 13 — june 2023

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Luca calls out from the hotel room as you vomit once again in the toilet.

“Lu, I’m fine please just go see Adam and I’ll be down when-“ you cut yourself off throwing up into the toilet again “When I’m done”

“Babe I really don’t want to leave you, we should take you to a doctor”

You sighed, standing up and flushing away the remnants of your lunch before grabbing your toothbrush and headed out to face your very worried boyfriend.

“This is Adam’s draft, we’re not going to the doctor! C’mon let’s get down there” as you went to grab your clutch you knocked your suitcase by accident and tampons fell out onto the floor.

As you crouched down to pick them up you paused, gasping lightly.

“What is it?” Luca asks, looking at himself in the mirror.

“I think I might be pregnant?” You say, standing up with a tampon in hand. He’s wide eyed and looking at you but before either of you can say anything Adam is banging on the door calling you both out.

You spent the night of the draft with the question pondering in your mind

were you pregnant?

That thought however had to be pushed to the back of your mind when Adam’s name got called out on the stage.

After the pictures, the interviews and party you finally made it back to your hotel room. You threw yourself onto the bed almost immediately and heard the door shut firmly behind you.

“We have to talk about this” Luca says and you sit up.

“Lu I’m tired please-“

“You might be pregnant y/n how can you sleep?”

You groan “because it’s been a long night Luca, if I’m pregnant I’ll still be pregnant in the morning”

He conceded and got into bed, the silence didn’t last very long when in the darkness of your room he mumbles “there’s a gas station-“

“Let go then” you whine, giving in and pulling on his hoodie to leave the hotel.

The two of you looked out of place at the gas station in your pyjamas but the cashier who you’re sure was younger than you didn’t seem to care much.

With the test in hand you went immediately into the bathroom when you got back to your room.

Luca stood outside listening for any indication of an answer from inside the bathroom. When you finally stepped out with the test in hand he asked

“So?”

“I’m pregnant”

week 18 — july 2023

“Did you feel that?” Luca asks from his position on your belly.

“What?”

“That!” He points at your belly again “The baby is moving!”

Before you can correct him you feel it and stop

“Oh my god!” You can’t see it but you can feel it and it’s such a strange out of body experience.

After the fun had calmed you both resumed your spots to watch the movie and Luca mumbled “It’s so weird to think there’s a person in there… our person”

You hummed “Our baby, Lu”

week 20 — august 2023

You’d returned back to Ann Arbor for school. The car ride from Toronto wasn’t your finest moment with the limited stopping places on the 401 and you now being half way through pregnancy.

They weren’t a good mix.

Back in Michigan now you had gone to see your doctor, having to pass over all of your paperwork from your doctor in Toronto.

During the appointment your doctor sent you over to the place you would be having your appointments from now on to meet with your OBGYN.

At the appointment your doctor suggested an ultrasound just to make sure everything was ok. It felt weird doing this alone but it was always nice to see the baby.

“Babygirl is doing just fine in there, all measuring up to scale”

You stutter “I’m sorry did you just say girl?”

The doctors eyes go wide “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know you didn’t know!”

“No, it’s ok I’m just… wow”

Back home somehow your house had become the social gathering spot as you fought your way in through the bodies of the team to find Luca.

“y/n!” Johnny pulled you into a hug from the side “I’ve missed you!”

You chuckle “Yeah, missed you too J. You seen Luca?”

“Yeah he’s upstairs moving boxes in, we offered to help but he said we couldn’t… think it’s your lady stuff”

You laugh “never change drus! Can you guys move our couch in from the van out front?”

A collective agreement came as they trudged out of the house. As soon as the coast was clear you took your jacket off, feeling a little too hot.

“Luca?” You called out, walking through the hallway.

“In here!” He shouts back from the spare room.

When you walk in you find him sitting on the floor with the moving box open, filled with clothes his mom had bought you guys for the baby.

“They think you’re up here with my lady stuff because you wouldn’t let them help” you chuckle and he shrugs “I didn’t want them to see before we told them, Johnny’s still pissed we won’t let him move into Adam’s old room”

The room in question was the room you were currently standing in, the one that soon enough would be filled with stuffed animals and little hockey memorabilia you were sure Luca would want her to have.

“How was the appointment?” He asks, still raking through the box.

You smile “Good, um they told me something while I was there”

He looks alerted “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing wrong” You crouch down and put your hand on his chest “They told me, it’s a girl”

“Oh my god!” He screams, and you try a shush him but you’re too late you can hear footsteps barging up the stairs before the door whips open.

“What’s wrong?! Why are you shouting?” You turn to face the boys in the doorway and laugh

“Well this isn’t how we wanted to tell you but we’re having a baby!” You announce, showing off your bump.

They begin piling in to congratulate and hug you before Luca shouts

“And it’s a girl!”

week 31 — october 2023

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Babe I’m good, go! Have fun! Me and babygirl will be here for you when you get home”

You lay on the couch, accompanied by a family size bag of candy and Netflix. Luca was attending a Halloween party on campus and you were just so big and so exhausted to even pretend you were happy at a party.

“I can stay-“ “Luca go! You won’t be out partying when she gets here so use your time wisely”

He nods and pulls his jacket on, leaning down to kiss you

“I love you”

then he kisses the bump

“I love you also, he good for mom”

You laugh at him in ‘dad mode’

“Your girls love you back, now go!”

Throughout the night you checked social media, looking closely in the stories for Luca to see if he really was having a good time.

You spotted him in the back of some stories, mainly looking at his phone which you assumed was all the times he had called you to check in.

By the time he’s stumbled back through the door of your house you’d fallen asleep on the couch watching re-runs of some show.

He came in confused why the light was still on and when his eyes landed on you, he softened “oh babe”

You’d been having a hard time sleeping lately and he knew that so he opted not to wake you but instead make you more comfortable, bringing in a blanket and a pillow before changing and situating himself next to you.

His hand rubbed over the bump soothingly and he mumbled “Hi babygirl, were you good for mommy?”

week 37 — december 2023

Your house was currently looking like a bombsite after you were packing for winter break and realised you’d be coming back with a baby and said baby had no bedroom.

So you enlisted the help of every member of the team to help put together baby girls nursery.

Half of them were painting and the other half were attempting to assemble furniture.

You’d been instructed to go and get lunch, that was all. So you went out and bought the boys all some lunch.

When you got back you heard them all arguing upstairs and waddled up to investigate.

Everyone was standing in the middle of the nursery, now painted and the crib was assembled. They were all holding up story books

“No this one is better are you insane? Humpty Dumpty do you want her traumatised?”

You looked at your boyfriend “What’s going on?”

He chuckled “they all brought babygirl books, for her story corner and now they’re arguing which is best”

Now they saw you were home, Dylan and Seamus ran over to you

“y/n which is she going to like more Goodnight moon or i might be little?”

You bit your lip to suppress your laugh “She’s one spoilt little girl”

week 40 — december 2023

Adam was in town playing the leafs so you guys headed downtown to watch the game.

Adam had asked you come down pre-game and when asking why he fist bumped your belly and said “me and my bestie have to do our pre-game” as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

After the game, Adam and some of the boys home town friends had asked Luca if they could take him out for his birthday in the morning to which you said

“I’m opting out of this one, I’m going to bed but you enjoy!”

Luca stared at you worriedly before you said “It’s your twenty-first birthday, go celebrate! I love you, I’ll see you in the morning”

They’d gotten a booth in the club and Luca was living it up. So much so, he’d abandoned his phone on the table and missed the numerous missed calls from you, your mom, his mom and his dad.

When it came time for the club closing Adam picked up Luca’s phone and his heart dropped, he called his mom back while looking for his brother.

“Adam where is he?!”

“Mom he’s- what’s going on?”

“The baby is coming”

“We’ll be there”

Adam finally found Luca outside the bar waiting for their Uber he passed him his phone

“We gotta go”

“Where?”

“The hospital, y/n’s in the hospital”

It says if those words alone sobered him up “She’s? The baby? What?”

Adam didn’t explain, just pushing Luca into the Uber and instructing them of the change in destination.

At the hospital you were stressing “He’s coming right?”

Your mom stroked your hair “He’ll be here baby, he wouldn’t let you down”

You whined, not believing her words the longer this went on.

Then finally he barges into the room “I’m here! Is she here?”

“You’re late!” You shout, mid contraction

“I know, I’m sorry I’m so sorry”

Your families left you be, hand in hand waiting for the nurse to come in and check you.

“This is really happening, eh?” He asks and you smile through the pain

“She’s really coming, our baby” Luca could sense the unease in your voice, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Hey, look at me” he instructs and you do, eyes filled with tears “Your gonna be the best mom ever ok? Our little girl is so lucky you’ve been ready for this since we were teenagers, I’m the one who should be scared! I don’t know how to be a dad but I know with you by my side there’s nothing we can’t do”

“Gigi’s so lucky”

You smirked softly “Gigi, huh?”

You’d been arguing about names for months. Luca stood firm on Carson but you liked Giada.

He nods “Gigi, our girl”

She arrived a little after six, kicking and screaming until she was lay on your chest then she went silent.

You were both sobbing just at the sight of her “Hi Gigi, hi baby”

After a nap and breakfast you sat up in bed watching your two favourite people just staring at one another

“Happy Birthday, Lu… your gift is back at the house”

He shakes his head “I got my best gift right here, happy birthday Gigi”

1 year — december 2024

“…happy birthday to gigi, happy birthday to you!” Everyone sang and the one year old giggled as they finished and you help her blow out her candles.

Both you and Luca press a kiss to each cheek “Happy Birthday G”

Luca looks over at you with a smile “Best year of our lives”

#Gigi’s world

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blouisparadise · 3 months

Text

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of February. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) A Little Bit Of You | Teen & Up | 2,301 words

Louis is a cute omega who loves autumn and baking cupcakes. However, when he goes to the supermarket to get the last ingredient for his recipe, strawberry jam, he meets Harry, a grumpy alpha who is unwilling to hand over the last jar.

2) I'm Gonna Love You Forever And Ever | Mature | 3,059 words

Louis is independent, he is a free omega, except when he is with his alpha, then he just wants to be held and taken care of.

3) Can't Get My Fill, So I'll Take Yours | Explicit | 2,558 words

Harry's grip remains tight despite Louis’s scrabbling attempts to get him to release his oversensitive, twitching dick. Cum drips between their fingers, making it slick, and impossible to dislodge Harry, who has pinned Louis’ right hand to the pillow. When he can no longer fight, Louis collapses back against the mattress, hand dropping to his side in defeat. He’s still hard from the constant stimulation, but he’s so sensitive. Once he stops fighting, Harry slows his pace, guiding Louis' limp, free hand up until he can pin his wrists to the pillow with one hand. It’s so much, and he forces his eyes open, looking down to see drops of cum dripping out of his cock, forced out of him by Harry’s unforgiving dick and hand. “Harry, I can’t take it, it’s too much.” “You can take it, and I’m gonna fuck you until I feel like stopping.” Louis moans, going limp again rather than resisting this time. “Good boy. Letting me fuck you like a toy for my own pleasure while I see how many times I can make you cum before you pass out.

4) Started Off With Some Birthday Sex | Explicit | 3,669 words

When Harry gets woken up at the exact moment he turns thirty, Louis makes sure to start off his birthday with a bang.

5) The Prints Of Your Hands Are Still On My Canvas | Not Rated | 4,563 words

Harry and Louis broke up not long ago. Everything was fine until then, problems started with Louis’ heat just around the corner, an important presentation that he could not miss, and a very visible (or more like invisible) alpha that could help him go through his heat. And then Harry shows up. (Again.)

6) Be Brave With Me | Mature | 4,834 words

Harry is out as gay and has been out for a while, and his best friend Louis has always supported him. The green-eyed man knew that Louis was closeted and was scared to come out, of course, Louis doesn't know that Harry knows who he truly wants to be. It's the middle of June and Harry convinces Louis to go to a pride parade, what happens when Louis and Harry get separated and Louis find himself surrounded by homophobic protesters?

7) Home (You'll Never Feel Like You're Alone I'll Make This Feel Like Home) | Explicit | 4,937 words

Louis has been busy all of February and so has Harry. Harry's teaching not just his own, but also his colleague's year one class after her fall. It's been two weeks and the school is yet to find a substitute teacher for her class. Harry's worked to the bone, stressed out of his mind, and on top of it all Louis was also barely home. The only respite for Harry is winter half-term starting Friday February 14th 2025. And of course Louis coming home early to surprise Harry with dinner and a bath.

8) Everywhere, Everything | Explicit | 6,924 words

"Uhm- so I was wondering if maybe…maybe you could braid my hair?”

9) Your Love Was Handmade (For Somebody Like Me) | Explicit | 12,608 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry looked up from his phone when he heard the clicking of heels stop at the table. He smiled kindly at the hostess and then his eyes travelled to the man behind her. His smile faltered at the sight of Louis in front of him. “Yeah, not gonna happen,” Harry said and started to get out of the booth. “Harry, please. Don’t go,” Louis pleaded and stood so Harry couldn’t get out. “I’m not going to be made a fool again, Louis. You had your fun, now let’s forget it ever happened.”

10) The Unsuccessful Promise | Teen & Up | 15,204 words

At the end of the previous school year, Louis swore to everyone that he would return in the fall as an alpha. He made this promise especially to his arch-nemesis Harry Styles, who has already presented as an alpha himself. Unfortunately over summer break, the worst thing possible happens: Louis presents as an omega. Now school is back in session and he has to return and face the consequences of pre-determining his status. Featuring Liam and Zayn as Louis' doting and exasperated parents.

11) The Royalty’s Game | General Audiences | 19,390 words

“There is no ritual other than the King Harry Styles having a Family line.” “I promised my dead wife to love her until I stop breathing.” Harry spit angrily. “This is the only way to stop the Night storm.” The Avatar of Khonsu said worriedly.

12) Gemini Rising | Explicit | 23,389 words

Louis might as well give it a shot. Maybe - just maybe - if he starts crossing boundaries in the same reckless way Harry does, that lunatic will get the message. So he starts invading Harry's space any way he can think of. He bites on his toast while Harry is speaking, he tears his morning tea out of his hold and he only hands him back the mug when it's empty, he steals half of his boxer briefs, he walks into the bathroom while Harry is peeing, he even uses his toothbrush right in front of him. When Harry's phone buzzes, Louis dives his hand into his pocket and he reads his texts out loud. When Harry's sleeping, Louis shoves his door open and asks him if he wants a snack. Louis is really trying. Like, really, really trying. Too bad it's not working.

13) Drop And Draws - What A Feeling | Mature | 50,020 words

Ever since he presented as an Alpha, Harry can't stop drawing the same person over again. Louis, since long before he presented as an Omega, has always had behavioural problems... When Niall sees one of Harry's drawings, it becomes clear that these two must meet, and quickly. Everything should be easy, shouldn't it? Except, perhaps, Louis is on the other side of the Atlantic, firmly attached to Ricky…

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry fics #fic recs #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs

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lilsmv1 · 2 months

Text

august - MV1 (1/?)

- you're on your own kid [pt1]

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Juliette Durand

This is a story for the Max (and Taylor Swift) girlies.

masterlist

Summary: They were doomed from the start. Two completely different worlds colliding, there was no way this could work. But what happens when they keep running into each other, as if gravity was pulling them together.

Trope: slow-burn af

(*dialogues in italic are meant to be in French, I’m just too lazy sksksks)

Word count: 1,1k

A/N: This is the first chapter guys! I'd love some feedback :) Enjoy !

Having recently graduated meant finding a job and getting your life together.

But Juliette was only 25, how was she supposed to know for sure what she wanted at this point in her life?

Juliette was completely lost. She wanted to do everything and nothing at the same time. Everyone expected her to know everything, especially her parents.

Instead of facing their incessant questions on the matter, she ran away, in hopes of overcoming her current situation.

Hence why Juliette booked her tickets for Italy, and found herself wandering the streets of Orta San Giulio.

Juliette felt at peace here, the sound of the water banging against the boats, the cool breeze gently brushing her cheek, the smell of sea water. She didn't know anyone, and no one knew her. No one to expect her to be anything.

She was strolling through a bookshop, her fingers brushing the edges of the books as she went. Her eyes lit up as her hand touched her favorite book. She couldn't even tell how many times she'd read it, but it always had the same gut-wrenching effect on her. She took one last glance at the book before leaving, Martin Eden, by Jack London, a fan favorite, or at least hers.

As she left the store, Juliette’s phone rang. It was Pierre.

“Ju?”

“Yes Pierre?”

“Did you arrive safely? You were supposed to text me once you get there.”

“Sorry dad!” She laughed. Pierre was her best friend and he could be a tad bit overprotective sometimes.

“You know I worry about you. How are you feeling?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine, I just need time to figure things out for myself” Juliette was lying. She wasn’t fine. Her anxiety was really getting the best of her lately.

“I know, and you’ll figure it out. You’re the clever one, you’ll find your path” Replied Pierre, trying to reassure her.

“Easy for you to say, “Mister I always wanted to be a Formula One Driver”” .

Juliette and Pierre met when she was in middle school. They actually met in detention. Pierre was there after talking back to a teacher and Juliette was there after throwing her eraser on a friend. He was three years older than her and immediately saw her as the sister he never had. Since then, she has been cheering for him throughout his entire career, being there for each milestone. She was very proud of him.

“What can I say, I have always dreamt big” laughed Pierre “By the way” he added “Kika is coming to spend a couple days with my family next week, will you be there?” Pierre asked.

“Of course! I can’t wait to see her again!” Juliette was so happy to see Kika again, she was a real sweetheart. She was glad Pierre had found her.

“Well I gotta go Pierre, I’ll call you back during the week, alright?”

“Ok, take care Ju, love ya!”

"Love you, see you soon!" replied Juliette.

Juliette cherished her friendship with Pierre more than anything. They couldn't see each other often due to his intense schedule, but he was always there for her and vice versa. To her, he wasn't Pierre Gasly, he was just Pierre, her best friend from middle school. She felt really lucky to have such a friend by her side.

Juliette kept exploring the city for a couple hours. As the evening went on, she decided to grab a bite in the nearest restaurant. Once she settled, she pulled out her film camera, snapping candid shots of the people surrounding her.

That camera was always in her hand, having thousands of film rolls at home, each capturing snippets of her life.

She watched the people through her lens throughout the whole dinner, until her gaze fell on a pair of piercing bright blue eyes already staring back at her. She slowly lowered her camera, and looked away shyly, embarrassed that she'd been caught red-handed.

She looked back up and that’s when it hit her. She knew those dashing blue eyes. They belonged to none other than Max Verstappen, one of Pierre’s fellow drivers. Except for Charles, she had never met any of them, trying to stay away for the spotlight as much as possible.

Juliette was completely mortified, and to make matters worse, he was headed in her direction.

“Ciao” he said when he reached her, cringing at his own attempt to speak Italian.

It was all it took to make Juliette burst out laughing, a mixture of surprise and nervousness.

After seeing Max’s defeated look, Juliette pulled herself together.

“I’m sorry”, she said “It’s just, I wasn’t expecting you to speak Italian”.

This made Max smile.

“You speak English… then, made a fool out of myself here, didn’t I?” he asked, chuckling.

“Kind of, but it was entertaining” she softly replied with a grin. Realising he had been standing there for five minutes, she invited him to sit with her, which he did.

"I'm Juliette by the way"

"Nice to meet you Juliette, I'm Max"

“So,” he kept going, “did you take any nice pictures, hopefully some with me in them” he said smirking.

“So you did see... Well, I would’ve but I got a little interrupted” said Juliette.

"Don't worry, I'm flattered" he replied laughing.

"Don't go feeling too special, I take many candid shots of strangers... Although it might sound weird like that" she laughed. "I just find it beautiful to capture snippets of life".

"Well you definitely make it sound beautiful" he replied with a warm smile, making her blush.

They stayed like this for a while, chatting about this and that, although Max failed to mention that he was an F1 driver and Juliette, on her part, failed to mention that she knew who he was and that Pierre was her best friend. They both did not want to make this conversation weird, knowing that were never going to see each other again anyway.

"Well, Max, it was lovely to meet you, but I think I'm gonna head out" said Juliette after a while.

"Yeah me too, have a good night Juliette" replied Max with a smile.

"Good night Max" said Juliette softly before leaving.

They each went their own way, a smile on their face as they though about this one-off encounter.

But after all, Orta San Giulio isn't a big town. Who knows, they might run into each other again.

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katz-chow · 7 months

Note

This is so Phillip Graves coded....thoughts? Also love your work♡^^

bang bang

a/n: STOP NO I LOVE THIS SONG. you're so right babyboo this is so graves coded. how much of life passed by him because of how much time he dedicated to his work. let me show you. angst, good ending, gn! reader, not how i normally write graves, him being an ass, slight suicidal themes, one religious bit, ignoring mw3

Phillip hadn't meant to leave you all alone all those years ago. Memories of weeping willows and tall grass in the scorching summer heat before school started to flood his mind as he drove through sun-bleached roads in the Hill Country. He was finally going home, back to the place where he could finally retire. Sure, he hasn't been back here in 5 years, but he was working and doing important missions within the military, you knew that.

He made sure you knew that when he left for the cold plains of Colorado to start up the Shadow Company. "It's dangerous work, Sweetheart." He said as he held your hand close to his chest. You were crying, begging to come with him, the shiny new ring on her your finger gleamed in the airport lighting.

"No. it's too dangerous, I don't want them coming after you..." He said when you called him a few weeks later after he informed you that he was going overseas. Again, you begged to be able to call him, to have any grasp of him and who he belonged to. And again, he denied it.

You suggested letters on a call a few months later, after he had gotten back from that first mission. He seemed more on edge, hardened...not your Phillip. He cursed and groaned, "When will you understand how dangerous everything is?! Use your brain and think will you? If I send back letters, they'll know where to find you. If you send back letters, they'll know where to find me. Hell, they can probably trace this call right back to you at this very moment and I can't do shit about that!"

You ended the call, frustrated tears rolling down your cheeks. You threw the sheets off of you and screamed into the pillows. You missed him and, of course, he just wanted you to be safe.

Soon, his signal got weaker and weaker. Letters were out of the option except for a rare one-pager or a post card sent from him. Mexico...seemed like a nice place to be, while you're stuck here in Texas, without your husband.

One month turned into two, and then 4 years, and then...he was dead. One of his old military buddies showed up to your door along with a shadow you've never seen before, a flag in hand.

You didn't cry during the funeral, there was no body. You didn't cry when you were handed the flag. You didn't cry on the drive home. You didn't cry until the sun went down and the normally empty house seemed colder, the last smoldering coal cooling down. That was when you couldn't take it anymore. Your knees sank down and hit the hardwood in your living room, framed pictures of the two of you hiking in California glimmered with the faint kitchen light that seemed so, so far away.

You felt the surge of guilt roll over you he was right, he was only keeping you safe from the mess of the world while you got to stay at home. But instead of admiring him and his care, you screamed and cursed and kicked and...cried. You cried out to him and he had no choice but to swallow the stinging in his chest whenever you asked when he was coming home. You couldn't see it at the time. Funny how these things work, it takes death to make you see it.

“If God teaches in this way, by weakening you into a vulnerable thing in order to beg for mercy, he is not a kind god. If this is the case, kill me too. If it’s cowardly than I accept being a coward, if it means I can be with him again.”

His death wrecks you. You don’t come out of the house anymore, not even to get groceries. You order things at your doorstep. You only open the door for people to send their condolences, but never allow them to go in nor do you want to go out. The house is no longer pristine and ready for him to come home at any minute anymore, because you know he won’t.

So imagine the sound of an engine cutting off in front of your house. Then the sound of a large car door closing. And then the keys turning the lock open. You don’t move from your nest of a bed, you figure you had forgotten to eat and the hallucinations are coming in. So you stare at the window blinds, bright sun outside causing a slight glow in your bedroom. You sigh. A lovely day gone to waste again, shame…

“Honey? I know you’re here, your car’s parked out…” His voice chirps as you hear heavy footsteps make its way around the small house. Then the sound of the door opening, your back facing it. You keep your eyes ahead, preparing for the part where everything fades to black and you fall asleep. You start to see the familiar figure in your peripheral and then his face knelt down to meet yours on the bed. You look at him, tiredly and sadden, dismissing the vision as you closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Baby…” His knuckles brush against your cheekbones and your eyes dart open and wide, looking up at him.

“Phillip…?”

His hand caress your face as yours reach out to him, fingers pinching and pulling at his face. He smiled softly. “It’s just me, again…Hi..”

Tears formed in your eyes as you sat up in bed, scrambling into his arms as you both sit on the floor. You screamed and sobbed and hit him as he held you close. “I thought you were fucking dead for almost a year, a whole fucking year, you asshole!”

Phillip didn’t seem fazed with your words nor your fists weakly hitting his back as you buried your face into him. “I know I’m sorry…I’m here now. I’m real, it’s okay, we’re okay.”

Your Phillip was home, safe and in your arms. He knew you would react in some way, but somehow he didn’t know it equate to you physically hitting him. He held you as tight in his arms as you would let him as you cried and screamed.

You succeeded in pulling away from him, tears turning into sniffles and a furrowed brown.

"I miss you."

A harsh pain whipped onto the side of his face, hard enough to pull his gaze from you to the bookshelf in the back against the wall.

"Don't do that again." You stared at him, tears silently rolling down your flushed cheeks as sniffled, lip quivering.

"I'll be here."

#katzwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #fanfic #phillip graves x gn!reader #phillip graves hc #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you #cod graves #graves x reader #philip graves x reader #philip reader #phillip graves cod

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hyukabean · 2 years

Text

enemies to lovers trope w/ idol!skz

req — none!!

nana’s notes — my fav trope! way too long as always (5k rip). i struggled to find a reason for some of the boys, especially chan lol feedback is always welcome ^^

warning(s) — cursing? (does that count??) a lil suggestive at times! ps. tried keeping it gender neutral!! i am still used to writing fem!reader, so if i ever slip up, (since this is still unedited), lmk!

definitely unedited.

bang chan

you’re hannah’s bestfriend and are currently interning at jyp; chan doesn’t exactly know how to feel about you being so close to his baby sister, and he, unintentionally, makes for a lot of awkward interactions between you three

you just graduated high school and now, boom everyone just excepts you know what you wanna do?? what are you a fortune teller? a genie??

but!! you and hannah became online friends by coincidence a while back and y’all are besties now!!

after venting to her for a while, she was like “bro, wanna do an internship to figure out your life a bit?”

and you were like “aight bet”

so here you are now, doing a summer internship at jyp of all places! and tbh you were having so much fun!

until you met chan, who ironically enough was your bias

out of respect for your bestie, you never really brought skz up, eventhough she knew you were a fan ofc

you’d never want her to feel taken advantage of:<

chan on the other hand, didn’t really ask enough questions?

he thought is was kinda sus how hannah’s bestie was a stay and got an internship at jyp (once again, lacking info massively-)

so he’d try to be super friendly but it just be awkward?

big bro things ig-

“hey! i got you iced matcha since i’m on break, wanna go sit outside? weather’s nice!”

and hannah’s like:D yes!!

but then chan’s is like?? what if they kill her????

“so y/n! what’s your favorite song on I AM: who?”

you blink at him

“h-huh?”

hannah face palms, apologizing on his behalf quietly, “shut up chan…”

“uhm… ‘voices’ probably? though awkward silence is probably more fitting……”, you mutter the last part

it happens again and again so you ask hannah about it

and she’s like: “he’sreallyprotectiveandthinksyoureusingme? ahahahaha…”

and you go: “oh… </3”

because you put some much effort in to make sure that’s not the case yk???? plus he was your bias-

eventually you “resign” 2 weeks early and just spend the rest of the time going around korean with hannah!

and chan felt super bad… not only because you were his sister’s best friend and he was hella awkward, but also cause you’re cute?

he knew it was wrong, but the more he thought back to it, the more he realized how intuitive? understanding? helpful you were?? always assisting everyone perfectly

hannah does eventually catch on and she is a bit pissed cause like, seriously? my best friend, chan?? 🤨

“as long as i don’t have to watch you two way each other’s faces…”

her thought process was, ‘if they get married, no in-law drama’

she loves her bro so she gives him your number

he hits you up and eventually, after apologizing, he does ask to meet up and get to know you a bit better

you ofc can’t just be like, yea!! before asking hannah

she ofc agrees and appreciates you asking:)

and now, months in the future after you’ve gotten your uni business sorted out, you’re sitting on his lap, listening to him edit some track:3

hannah still gags everytime you two make eye contact but hey, we love a supportive tsundere bestie <3

lee minho

since jyp’s wifi and electricity are always going out, you, an engineering major, do chan a favor and fix it while your in the building (;)), this means, someone is constantly messing with the lights while minho is trying to practice

as a fan who’s also one of chan’s closest friends, you could positively say, chris was equally as annoyed with the wifi situation as stay are

you happen to be studying engineering and learning about electricity, smoldering, and such, is kinda part of the skill set;

soooo, you, bless your soul, sit with chan during his lives, and whenever he sends you a text or drops any hints, you fix the wifi for him

the whole lights going out business was kinda new, but hey, it’s jypapi what else is to be excepted

and so, whenever you go to fix it, you’ve got to mess with the lights for like a solid 10 minutes!! super tiring but anything to see chan go from :( —> :D right?

wrong. (well no ofc not but yk-) minho fucking hates those 10 minutes with a passion !!

“who’s the little bitch that’s messing with the lights again, huh>:( i thought the among us hype was over”

“i got the imposter!” “hyunjin sHUT UP”

istg this boy would rather dance in darkness smh

he’s complained to hyunjin and jisung about it plenty of times

but never to chan, come on, the man’s stressed enough already!! (awww caring minho everyone:))) )

i luv sungie and jinnie w/ all my heart ofc but….

they didn’t exactly give him the best advice?

perspective thing ig-

either way, it ended with minho lurking in one of the supply closets, waiting for the culprit you to show up

“AHA you little fucker”, “e-excuse me?…”, “….aren’t you chan’s friend?”, “aren’t you skz’s minho?….”

awkward to say the least ^^;;

“so let me get this straight, you’re the one who’s been playing irl among us? to help chan?? you’re the one who’s not letting me dance in peace???”

“i-, yes? no? how does one answer this correctly?”

n e wayysss, chan came to look for you cause it’s been like 20 minutes at this point lol

your korean is pretty good, but minho doesn’t know that >:)

“형... 그 친구가 정말 예뻐요” // (“hyung… your friend is really pretty”

chan: o-o —> ;)

you: o-o —> :o —> :>

minho: -^-?? —> ಠ_ಠ —> (@_@)

“thank you~” “fuck-”

suddenly minho doesn’t mind irl among us

he definitely doesn’t take you to am meet his cats as an apology. psshh who’d do that hahaha…

o-o

anyways! y’all chill now

and dating sksjksja-

seo changbin

you and jeongin have been friends for a while now; you needed to improve your korean, and he felt too shy to practice his english with his hyung’s. changbin and you have never really clicked, but when push comes to shove and he breaks chan’s laptop, he desperately needs you to fix it for him

“y/n… why don’t you like hyung? he’s super goofy once you get to know him! have you seen him and felix hyung do aegyo?”

*sigh*

it’s not that you ‘hated’ changbin per se, you two just…. don’t mesh well?

you had immense respective for changbin, though. you liked him a lot as a stay, before you met jeongin; of course now you still thought his talents were incredible, but as a friend? yikes…

bin shared your sentiments; he too thought it was crazy how you could study two such a difficult majors at the same time, in a foreign country, AND befriend jeongin, (he was lowkey jealous since you guys became friends faster than he did)

and yet still, something was off?

he knew deep down, he had not been trying nearly hard enough, but after you had given up, he didn’t see a point in trying either

jeongin, bless his little soul, really does try to make it work!

but it usually just ends with either of you leaving or avoiding each other and hanging out with other members that were present

you’ve contemplated pretending to be friends for i.n’s sake, but you felt it would be disingenuous:((

one fine afternoon, while you were translating and helping jeongin pronounce some of the lines he wanted to say during their upcoming concert:

“oh thank god, y/n! i need your help, please!”

jeongin ofc is like ^^ “psst y/n! he’s asking you for help! go bond!!” (spolier alert: i.n knew you found him kinda cute, and bby does not know how to whisper:D)

you smiled awkwardly and were like?? ‘changbin never looks this disheveled’ :((

“you okay? you seem kinda off”, you were mostly just confused

until he pulls out a 7/11 plastic bag, with want looked to be chan’s laptop

“yep, that’ll do it…”

jeongin gasps, “hyung!!! he’s gonna kill you if be finds out!”

“exactly, so unless you want me dead, and skz to be a 7 member group, please don’t tell him”, he murmurs out, (bby’s just a lil embarrassed)

you nod, understand; “i’m not even gonna ask, but you’re pretty lucky i double major, and i know how to do this…”

“i’ll treat you to literally anything, just please, save my head”

you grinned, it was cute getting to see this side of him for once:))

“no worries changbin, i’ve got this”

*cue jeongin and changbin starting at you, and occasionally leaning over in fear*

after a solid 4 hours, and two coffee breaks, you had successfully fixed his laptop!

“try running it first”, you chucked at his cheers

“his password is ‘bang-chris’ and his date of birth”, changbin sighed playfully, wiping away the tears

“and to think he’s technically still gen-z”, you played along, entering

he took you out for dinner, and an evening walk after that as a thank you, definitely no other reasons

he uh certainly didn’t think it was cute how a stubborn strand if your hair would continuously fall into your face, or how you’d puff your cheeks in frustration every once in a while, ahem.

jeongin, in typical maknae fashion, teases the crap out of you two 24/7

but you two are good now! and pinning after each other, but yk!

also, chan never found out? like?? sir there’s a massive dent on the bottom but okay?

“hyung’s getting old, he needs glasses now…” “jeongin, what-”, “it’s best you don’t know”

hwang hyunjin

you a felix are the best of friends! you and hyunjin on the other hand, just don’t get along, plain and simple. y’all can’t be a room together for more than 5 minutes before breaking out into a cat fight, and honestly, the members are tired of it

it’s really not all that deep; you and hyunjin just don’t like each other

whenever you go to see lix, it’s become normal to hear some sort of passing snarky remark, some statement about what you’re wearing or your personality, anything really

felix was at a loss, after all, hyunjin usually just dips when he doesn’t like someone, so why was he like this with you?

jisung and chan were almost certain he liked you

“oh come on, look at the way he’s looking at them! besides, hyunjin hating you is actually scary…”, jisung shivers, thinking back to their pre-debut days

felix agrees, “y/n’s probably just giving back the same energy… muhahaha my time to play cupid”

grins for like an entire day looking like —> >:]

the reason was he was acting like this towards someone he clearly liked, was unclear to them

but boy, were they dead set on finding und out!

and so, here you are, stuck in a closet, listening to a smug changbin twirl the keys, the threat of keeping you locked in there until you spoke to each other on his lips

not only that, but there’s like… no room there

so you’re basically laying side to side and on top of each other-

ten minutes in, you stop trying to shuffle around (thank god cause jinnie was strUGGLING), and felix, who was obviously tired of the silence:

“oh my god play 20 questions or something, jeez!”, minho chimed in happily, “we came for the tea, so give us some already!!!!!”

hyunjin got tired of the whining, “so uh… what do you do in your free time?”

you raised an eyebrow, “i… i like listening to music i guess?”, you gave a generic answer, not really wanting to open up to him like this

“seriously? i can’t think of anything duller…”, hyunjin rolled his eyes

on the inside he was dy!! ing!! his fingers itched to show you the playlist he has made you a few weeks back, but a) he was wayyy too shy for that, and b) moving was not a good idea right now

you huffed, rolling your eyes back, not that he could see, “i can…”

felix roared in laughter, clapping his hands a bit, “they got you there jinnie”

hyunjin suppressed a grin, he always liked how much of a smart ass you were

“tch… whatever…”, he leans in, breath hot on your ears, “let’s talk outside, hmm?”

DEFINITELY KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING KSSKSHSJ-

after getting your agreement, he spoke up, “guys, we’ll talk, promise. just let us talk in a… less cramped space”

you guys end up talking all night in his room, and you realize he’s no too bad

after, the two of you do hang out separately from the boys a few times before he confesses (shows you the playlist) and asks you out

“and i thought minho hyung was a tsundere….”, seungmin shook his head

“ew, i miss when my bestie didn’t have their tongue down their my other besties throat”, felix sighs

definitely a cute couple; unexpected, but cute for sure <3

han jisung

getting an intern position at jyp was fantastic; not only have you gotten to meet and close to one of your favorite groups, but you guys even hang out privately now. jisung has always been skeptical of your intentions, especially after finding out you’re a stay. when hate posts start to spread on social media, containing only information a staff member would know, he suspects you

“i wanna grab take out before going home, join us? or are you still feeling sick?”, felix asked, side hugging changbin

jisung rolled his eyes at this

why were they asking you this? aren’t you a little too close to the guys for just being a simple college student intern?

sure, he was impressed at the fact that you managed to put up with chan’s insomnia ridden schedule

and of course being able to run to three separate locations to get the boy’s coffee could not go unmentioned

that being said, he still felt it was unprofessional of you to hang out with them separately

part of him hope you weren’t ill intentioned; that and you’re super attractive, like super super attractive and exactly his type sooooo

but another felt as though you were abusing your close contact to them for personal gain;

ofc he couldn’t be sure, and so he tried not to judge you preemptively

did that work??? not really.

but a+ for effort right:)

last week had been great! you went out with felix and changbin to eat, chan had shown you a small preview of their new title track, and even hyunjin had offered to teach you a choreo you’d been shying away from for years

all was well, and you with school giving you a little break, you’d rarely felt better!

when you came in on monday, chaos was high at jyp

apparently someone had leaked private videos of the boy

nothing crazy, thank god, like them changing, but it was clear the boys had not consented to them

along with the images and footage, dates of upcoming events and two of the manager’s numbers were leaked

chan was furious to say the least, and he immediately called you to help him analyze the images/videos, hoping you’d catch something he and the other staff hadn’t

“why did you call them? it was probably their fault this leaked”, jisung huffed at chan, upset the lyrics he’d worked so hard on were captured on video

chan’s eyes widened, “oi, han jisung, aren’t you going a bit far?”, he pulls up a portion of the footage, “y/n was sick that day, remember? this was the photo shoot they missed. plus, they’ve never spoken to manager kim or cho. you’re way out of line here”.

jisung followed the leader’s gaze, noting that indeed, the day he had been forced to cosplay as a red highlighter, you were missing

(secretly he was thankful, he was kind of embarrassed at the fish nets top)

“s-shit… y/n, look-”

rolling your eyes you cut him off, “this isn’t where you guys normally get your make up done, no?”

chan nods, not quite following

“see the balloons in the back? maybe if we zoom in, we can at least get a glimpse of the person. and if i remember correctly, this room was going to be used for itzy; in that hallway there should be cctv footage available on both ends”, you spoke, pulling up the map you had initially made on your ipad not to get lost, but eventually just developed as a pass time.

he grinned, high-fiving you, “you’re a godsend y/n!”

to make a long story short; one of the external staff members had recorded and leaked the footage, so you were, obviously, in the clear.

legal charges would be pressed for multiple contractual violations but you had gotten praised and thanked for your quick thinking

“the police would’ve probably never gotten to actually taking a look at the footage”, one of the managers laughed, “but now i have an excuse to buy a new phone without my wife being too upset”

things were going well!

jisung on the other hand felt like shit:(

acting out like that was so unlike him; hyunjin even joked about not having seen him talk like that since their pre-debut days, to which han just :< —> :(((

with the help of chan, he eventually gets you alone and apologizes sincerely

he had come to the conclusion that part of his “hatred” towards you was fumed by genuine fear for skz’s wellbeing,

but the other part was the fear that he had of being rejected by you

“why didn’t you just so?”, you had accepted his apology, but you did want to get him back just a bit

“i don’t know jisung, you’re kinda asking a lot of me right now. a date? hmmm”

he just, @-@, “okay, i understand…”

after laughing at him you eventually do agree to go out together with him:))) and he just goes full anime blush you jaksjsk-

lee felix

felix has always been a super affectionate and cuddly person, especially with chan; but lately, he’s been spending an awful lot of time with you, and felix can’t help but resent you for it just a tiny bit

felix is not a bad person, he never wishes harm on anyone, you included

and as angel-like as he may look, he’s still a person like everyone else, and prone to jealousy at times

“sorry lix, looks like we’ll have to watch that movie another time!”, “aww sorry felix, hannah, y/n, and i are going to a concert”, “my bad lixie, i already have a hang out planned with y/n tonight, and i might sleep over… but we can talk tomorrow!”

chan, his honorary older brother, had been dipping on him a little (lot) more than usual

but he couldn’t blame him! he hadn’t seen you in a while

felix had been introduced to you, and he thought you were amazing in every conceivable way!!

he almost disliked you for it, or so it seemed to you when he avoided you religiously

felix’s jealousy stemmed from his own insecurities; he felt as though chan and you were both incredible!

you could make him laugh so easily! shouldn’t he be the one doing that? after spending so many years with chan???

these days his insecurities often get the best of him, especially since he already wasn’t feeling the best

was he really that unlovable? ‘of course, channie deserves someone better…’

lix would never want to make you someone, especially chan, feel bad for having friends and being close to them; his jealousy made him want to curl up into a ball and hide, so he did

even you could tell something was up with him

chris was running late, so, as per usual, you waited in his studio

“hyung! have you see-, oh… sorry…”, felix backs out slowly, voice lower than usual

you’re like:(( why you no like me sir ㄱ(-^-)

“wait! uh i know it’s not really my place to ask but… are you okay?”

after a lil bit of pushing, he eventually sits down with you and admits to feeling just a littttle jealous

“sorry if i made you feel weird, not cool…”

you shake your head, “no worries. would you uhm like to hang out with us today maybe?”

now it’s chan who doesn’t get to see lix and you any more dkshsk-

you both got super close!! as time passed, he found himself glancing at your lips a lil too long

or watching the reflection of light in your eyes with a bit too much fondness for it to be considered platonic

you end up asking him on a date after getting a chris style pep talk, and boom

two cuties are now going out together:)))

kim seungmin

seungmin has always been observant, and he can’t help but feel that you’re bubbly nature was a bit too unprofessional as a staff member; on the other hand, his “rudeness” and disinterest in most things, made you feel uneasy. the lack of communication seems to act as a catalyst for plenty of arguments…

“would it kill you to shut up?”, he huffed

“would it kill to take that stick out of your ass?”, you whispered back, “and i thought retail was bad…”

you and seungmin always argue

it’s like;;;; a natural law almost

a^2 + b^2 = c^2

stoichiometry is ass (lowkey kinda fun though-)

n you and puppy boy can’t get off each other’s backs

chan would always laughed about it

he knew that although this job was only part time for you, you were meticulous

you go y/n!!

seungmin on the other hand saw you as some sort of free loader with way too much mouth

TLDR: you two couldn’t be kept in the same room without arguing

“good morning! anything i can help with?”

“could you ask her to leave please?”

the other staff awkwardly glanced at you

“have your self a wonderful day, yeah kim?

instead, you’d try to work with other members, grab them their coffee, find the right tools for the stylists, just listening to them

but of course not without the back track that is kim seungmin in the buildingggg

the bitch was indeed present and you were tired of hearing it

literally anything you’d do was too loud or spontaneous

“hey i might actually take my 15 later”

cuts off the staff, “and inconvenience everyone? how unprofessional, you’re a real piece of work y/n”

eventually, you stopped having fun at work, not wanting to argue on days where college work already piled up

“not talking today? what, cat got your tongue?”

“no, i’m doing what evolution did”

“huh?”

“ignore you”

chan frowned, it seemed like you had genuinely taken his words to heart:((

everyone knew seungmin didn’t actually care about professionalism or volume, (i mean have you met han?)

but he wanted a reason to talk to you, even if he didn’t know it himself

during their next break, chan gently guided minnie, not having deemed it necessary until now

he basically said, ‘hey lil bro we all know you think y/n is cute. maybe actually try talking to them instead of just… you know, insulting them??’

“hey uh, i got you a drink?”

“is it poisoned??”

“no?”

“you’d be doing me a favor either way… thanks i guess”

over time, you two started genuinely bonding and hanging out 1-1

eventually it just lips out that he likes you

and you’re like: :o

he’s like: :0

and when you’re like: :3

and know you two are holding hands and chan regrets ever opening his mouth:)

yang jeongin

beomgyu and you had met by coincidence, but you had clicked and kept in contact. recently, he had introduced you to his other 01z friends, among them jeongin, who wasn’t thrilled. seeing one of his fans being friends with his best friend, he can’t help but assume the worst.

beomgyu and met in a convenience store by pure coincidence

he heard you talking on the phone about not being able to find a certain snack, and boom, he hands it over to you at the speed of light

(choi beomgyu everyone <3)

it was obvious you were a moa by the keychain on your bag, but you didn’t recognize him at first

you thanked him, and offered to pay for his soda can

long story short, y’all end up getting pretty close!!

you tried not to rub being a fan of him and his friends into his face, so you only brought it up, when he did

sooner rather than later, he found you not only stan skz, but also bias i.n., aka his bestie

and because you couldn’t attend their concert, and were kinda :< about it

he plans a meeting with you, him, and the three other boys!

you refuse, not wanting to ever make gyu think that’s the reason you’re friends with him

but he decided to just not tell you and invite you over after that!

master mind beomgyu strikes again;)

and you’d think nothing could go wrong, right?

afterall, you guys are at HYBE, behind closed doors, there’s plenty of food, and the boys arr chill, riiiight?

EHHHHN WRONG

see, jeongin wasn’t taking well to the whole idea

to be fair, gyu did tell him, but he forgot they wouldn’t be alone

he watched as you spoke to gyu, how you guys had inside jokes, or how he knew just what type of snacks you liked

you were, without a doubt cute, but, what were your true intention?

“i don’t know beomgyu, isn’t they’re a bit… too nice?”, “jeongin, what-”

he frowns at you the entire night, ignoring any and all of your attempts to have small talk or pleasantries

shrugging him off, you focus on having a good time with your friend

later, after coming back to the bathroom, you over hear jeongin talking to gyu again:

“can’t you see they’re just using you beomgyu? it’s obvious they wants in on this-, this lifestyle, whatever you want to call him”

you huff, shaking your head at him: “shouldn’t you trust your friend’s judgement just a little more?”

he’s kinda stunned, but doesn’t relent, “no, i’m just being careful”

he was right somehow, but still, you scoffed, “be careful all you want then, i’m not sticking around”

and you leave &-&

you being the good friend you are, send a message to gyu on your way home, thanking him and apologizing for how the night ended, eventhough it wasn’t exactly your fault

gyu shows jeongin the texts he had where you told him you didn’t want to meet

jeongin is like:< “b-but i thought-, was i mean?… oh no:((((”

so, he asks gyu for your number to apologize

‘this is yang jeongin’

‘i was wanted to apologize for yesterday, i was out of line…’

‘could i treat you to something as an apology?’

that’s how you guys end up in the jyp cafeteria, (away from the eyes of dispatch lmfao), with iced matcha and a piece of cake!!

“so, i heard i’m your bias”, “jeongin, shUT THE-”

all’s well that ends well!!

jeongin does take you out a few times after that, as… ‘friends’

but after a few months he does eventually ask you out on a date:D he was a lil shy but yk~

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wheels-of-despair · 1 year

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The Case of the Missing Eddie Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie disappears, and you freak the hell out. Contains: Panic, unhealthy coping mechanisms, murderous thoughts, Uncle Wayne, comfort, cheeseburgers. Word Count: 1.7k-ish Notes: Takes place near the end of the 1984-85 school year. Reader is a junior, Eddie is in Senior Year: Take 2. This was originally written for an event by newlips, but I picked at it for two weeks and still didn't like it enough to submit it, so now it's just a random entry in my Evil Woman universe. (As with all of those, can be read as a standalone.)

This features the prompt "If I believe in anything, it's you." from the 'A Quiet Love' list by soulprompts.

Eddie Munson was nowhere to be found.

You knew he had an appointment with Miss Kelley during 4th period that he'd pretended not to be nervous about. When the bell rang at the end of the day, you'd gone to meet him in the parking lot and find out how it went, but his van was gone. Did he go home sick? Did they find out what he did to the boys' locker room? Had the contents of his lunchbox been discovered? Your mind went wild with worry.

He probably just had errands to run, Gareth had said. It was Friday night, he'd definitely be back in time for Hellfire, Jeff had assured you. And yet, he was not. After waiting half an hour for their Dungeon Master to appear, the Hellfire Club finally packed up and went home.

You went to Eddie's.

Lights off, door locked, no van in sight.

Wedging a note that read "EDWARD. CALL ME." into the crack of the trailer door, you went home and continued worrying.

The next morning, when you knew Wayne would be getting home, you called.

"H'lo?"

"Hey, Wayne. Is Eddie there?"

"Hang on, I just walked in." You heard him put the phone down, walk away, and come back a few seconds later. "He's not here, darlin."

"Do you know if he came home at all last night?"

"Nope… anything I should know?"

"I haven't seen him since lunch yesterday... he was nervous about a meeting with Miss Kelley during 4th period."

"Aw, hell," Wayne grumbled. "If he shows up, I'll get him to call you."

"Thanks, Wayne."

He hummed in acknowledgment and hung up.

You hung up your own phone and banged your head against the wall next to it. What the hell, Eddie?

You waited.

And you waited.

And then you started cleaning.

The kind of cleaning that only happens when you're trying to take your mind off something that's worrying you.

Or someone you're going to kill for causing all this worry.

You hardly slept that night. You hadn't slept the night before either. You'd left your bedroom window cracked, even though it wasn't exactly sleeping-with-the-windows-open weather, hoping that it would summon him.

It did not.

On Sunday morning, approximately 30 seconds after you'd finally drifted off, the phone began to ring.

You leaped out of bed and tried to grab it, but you were so jittery and sleep-deprived, you fumbled it. When you finally got it to your ear, you heard Wayne.

"You alright, darlin'?"

"Yeah, just dropped the phone. Did you find him?"

"He's here, but it looks like he's sleepin' one off. I'd give him a while. Just wanted you to quit worryin'."

You breathed a sigh of relief, still feeling shaky.

"Thanks, Wayne. Can I come by and murder him in a few hours?"

He chuckled. "Go easy, sweetheart. Last time he disappeared like this was when he found out he'd failed."

Shit.

"Alright, Wayne. I'll spare him this time. Thanks again for calling."

"Sure thing. I'll leave the door unlocked for you." Wayne hung up.

Well, he's alive. For now, you think bitterly.

You managed to wait until 11:27 before heading out. You stopped by the only drive-thru in town and ordered Eddie's favorite burger combo, and one for Wayne too. Eddie's was to be used for either bribery or comfort. Wayne's was a thank-you.

You pulled into your usual spot and turned off the car, taking a moment to compose yourself. Breathe. You're not here to kill him for worrying you to death. You're here to find out what's wrong, and show him that you love him. There will be no murder today.

You entered quietly. Wayne, as promised, had left the door unlocked for you. At least one Munson Man can be counted on, said the devil on one shoulder. Go easy on him, he's having a hard time, said the angel on the other. Both of you need to shut the hell up, the annoyed brain in the middle thought. Wayne was sleeping, so you left the food on the table and approached Eddie's room cautiously.

Slipping in and easing the door shut behind you, you take a minute just to watch him breathe. He's alive. He's okay. He's face-down and sprawled out in nothing but his boxers, and you can smell the sweat and booze from the door.

You tiptoe through the mess of dirty clothes on the floor and sit on the edge of the bed. You rub a hand across his back, just grateful to be close to him again. Even if he does smell like a farm animal.

He begins to stir, turning his head in your direction and inching closer to your warmth. All of your anger begins to dissipate. Damn your soft spot for Sleepy Eddie. You reach up and gently brush his hair out of his face. He slowly opens his eyes, and smiles when he sees you.

And then he scrunches his eyes shut again, reaching for his head with a groan, and buries his face in the pillow. You smile, at his adorableness and not his misery, and exit the room. You return a minute later with a tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. Shaking out two pills into your palm as quietly as you can, you hold them out to him. You say his name softly, and once he realizes what you want, he sits up and pops them in his mouth, then drains the glass and hands it back to you.

"Another?" He shakes his head, and you place the glass on his bedside table. You want to give him time, and to tell him you love him, and to take it easy on him like Wayne asked you to. However, what comes out of your mouth is:

"What the fuck, Eddie?"

He looks at you quizzically, and his face clouds over when realizes what you're talking about. He sinks back down into the bed, flops onto his stomach, and hides his face in the pillow again. Maybe try a softer approach?

"I'm glad you're okay. But you scared the shit out of me. What the hell happened?"

He mumbles something that you can't quite make out.

"Wanna try that again?" you ask, raising an eyebrow that he can't see.

He turns his head in away from you and speaks to the wall.

"I failed," he croaks, "AGAIN."

As usual, Wayne was right. You wish you'd spent a little less time cleaning and a little more time figuring out how to handle this potential scenario. You take a deep breath.

"Go ahead and leave me, we both know it's coming."

"What?" you ask with an incredulous chuckle.

"You can do better than the dumb-ass Super Senior. Everybody knows it."

"Okay. So I should leave you because you suck at chemistry?"

"I suck at everything."

"Eddie, I say this with love… but shut the fuck up."

For once in his life, he does.

"You are good at so many things. It's not your fault that they're not things you get graded on." He doesn't respond, so you continue. "It's high school. It's not the end of the world."

"I'm gonna be the oldest fucking senior in the history of Indiana."

"Think they'll give you a trophy?"

He scoffs. Too soon, noted.

"You'll get there next year."

"Why bother? I'll just drop out like my old man did, let the cycle continue, everyone expects it anyway."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'll beat your ass if you drop out, and then Wayne will probably want a turn, and if there's anything left of you, maybe we'll let Hellfire have a go."

You see his body twitch like he's fighting back either a sob or a chuckle, but he doesn't make a sound.

"Plus, you'll have an advantage next year that you didn't have this time."

"What?" he asks miserably.

"Me, doofus. I'll be a senior too. And I'm going to bully Miss Kelley into putting us in the same classes, so I can ride your ass and make sure you pass this time."

"All I heard was ride my ass."

You give the aforementioned ass a sharp smack, and he jumps from the impact.

"You're gonna get there next year. You're gonna walk that stage, flip Higgins the bird, and be free of Hawkins High forever."

"You seriously believe that?"

"If I believe in anything, it's you."

He's silent for a moment, then heaves a sigh and turns over to face you.

"That was extremely cheesy."

"So's the burger I brought you," you tease through the blush rising in your cheeks. It may have been a cheesy line, but it got the job done. "Get your ass up, wash this dead animal stench off, and maybe I'll let you eat it."

He smiles and extends a hand, as if he's going to let you pull him up. You stand up and reach for him, and he pulls you down. Into the bed. Where it smells like a drunk pig has been wallowing. Then he crawls on top of you. Rubbing his stupid face all over you. Spreading his stench with a wicked grin on his face. And you can't even yell at him, because you'll wake Wayne. He knows this. The rotten bastard.

"You're lucky I love you," you hiss through gritted teeth. He stills.

"I know," he says softly, looking up at you with those big sad eyes of his. You feel your heart break a little, and lean in for a kiss.

"Jesus Christ, can you get secondhand drunk? Is that a thing?" You wipe your mouth and shove him off you, and he laughs. You roll out of his bed and start pulling clean clothes out of the dresser, throwing them at him one garment at a time. A t-shirt hits him in the face before he realizes what you're doing, and he catches the rest. He gathers his clothes and heads for the door, stopping in front of you.

"Thank you," he whispers with a lingering kiss to your forehead. You pull back and look up at him with pure adoration in your eyes. And then that mischievous twinkle returns to his. "Jesus, you smell like you've been dumpster diving. When's the last time you bathed? You should probably come get in the shower with me." You laugh and give his smart ass a shove toward the bathroom.

God, you love him.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #don't mind me just snarking my way out of every situation known to man

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yoditopascal · 1 month

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holy shit.. someone who writes shizuo x reader... i never thought i'd see the day...

aaanyways... may i request something that involves the reader being VERY into shizuo but also kinda scared to approach him given his reputation, but he ends up catching on and realizes he probably has to make the first move...? thank you!!

RIGHT?! Like idk why more people don’t write for him he’s my stankalank 😔

Also SORRY this took so long I couldn’t figure out how to end it to save my life 💀

Trust me

You had known Shizuo since grade school. The two of you being in the same classes all throughout middle and high school. It was natural for you two to gravitate toward each other.

During high school you two would walk to and from school together, when it rained he always bought an extra umbrella because he just knew you’d forget yours like always, at lunch you’d both sit on the roof or outside in the courtyard and eat together. When Izaya came along you were the one who’d patch up his wounds and when he was upset you were one of the very few people who could calm him down.

To say you had developed a small crush on the man during the time you had gotten to know him had been a huge understatement, but anytime you even thought about confessing, your shyness got the better of you.

“Just tell him already!” Shinra’s slurred hushed voice was immediately silenced by you.

You were both at Russia sushi, celebrating Celty and Shinra’s anniversary week. Shinra had ordered some sake for the table which soon turned into two and then three, Celty cut him off after the fourth. That’s when he started ordering shots.

“I can’t!” You slurred, throwing your head down on the table with bang.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Shinra giggled, as he leaned his whole body across the table to ruffle your head. “it’s not that hard just go up to him and profess your love!”

“Keep it down, I don't want the whole city to know!” You squeaked cheeks impossibly warm and completely flushed from both the alcohol and embarrassment.

“Trust me, the whole city already knows.” He deadpanned.

‘I don’t get it, you like him right? Why not just ask him out?’ Celty typed out on her phone, tilting her helmet to the side.

“I caaaaan’t it’s too embarrassing Celty!” You whined pressing your cheek back down to the cool table

“Come oooonn! What’s the worst that could happen?” Shinra waved you off.

“You don’t get it! He’s so cool and strong and handsome and strong and just…him!”

‘It’s just Shizuo. He won’t hurt you.’ Celty typed

“I know that. It’s just that as he’s so-so-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence.

‘I get it, he can be pretty intimidating at times’

It wasn’t that you wasn’t that you were scared of him but what if you pissed him off by confessing to him? Being on your friend’s bad side was the last thing you wanted.

But then again what if you never confessed? You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life swallowing down your feelings. What if Shizuo found someone else while you were being too chicken shit? The idea of him with someone else made your stomach roll, you couldn’t stand the thought of it!

“…maybe… you guys are right.” You admitted from the table.

“That’s the spirit!” Shinra cheered, pouring you another shot.

The three of you drank and talked some more and before you knew it Russia Sushi was closing and Simon was ushering you, Shinra and Celty out of the door so he could clean up.

‘You sure you can get home on your own? You’re pretty wasted.’ Celty typed as she balanced Shinra in one arm and her phone in the other. The pair had opted to walk as Celty didn’t want Shinra falling off her bike.

You waved her off as you started drifting in the direction of your home.

“I’ll be fine, I'm just around the corner.”

So was Shizuo. You thought to yourself,

“See ya around!” Shinra called out to you as he drunkenly waved, stumbling over Celty as he did so.

You waved back as you rounded the corner leaving their line of eyesight, just as you made your way to walk to your apartment you paused for a moment, thinking, before making another turn in the opposite direction. Home could wait, you had something important you had to do first.

When you reached the apartment door you started at it for a solid five minutes before leaning up to knock with a shaky hand.

“The hell are you doing here?” A sleepy voice asked as the door opened. Shizuo stood before you in boxers and a t-shirt sleepily scratching his stomach as he yawned.

“I came to see you!” You slurred, it was well past midnight and you were being far too loud for his liking.

“Go home you’re drunk.” He shushed you stepping out of his apartment in his slippers as he went to lead you back towards where you came from.

“But I missed you.” You said this time a little quieter just now aware of how loud you were being.

“I just saw you a few hours ago.” He sighed as he leaned on his door frame, he could tell you weren’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon, thank god he didn’t have work in the morning.

“Hang on I gotta- I came over to tell you something.” You stuttered, starting to lose your confidence.

“What is it?” He said crossing his arms, all this would have been amusing had it not almost been 3 in the morning.

“I-I” you opened and closed your mouth trying but failing to find the right words to use as you started at h intensely.

Shizuo sighed heavily. “Look it’s late why don’t you-“ he started but you interrupted him.

“You’re so pretty Shizuo.”

He blinked down at you once then twice a pink tinge rising to his cheeks. In all the time he’s known you he’s never heard you be so bold.

“I-is that what you wanted to tell me?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, starting to feel a little nervous, it was a foreign feeling to him.

“No but I thought that you should know.” You stumble forward a bit and Shizuo catches you.

“How much have you had to drink?” He asks as he steadies you on your feet, hand lingering on your forearms as if to help balance you.

“Only a little, Shinra had way more!” You tried to play it off, cheeks heating up at Shizuo’s close proximity.

“That shitty four eyed bastard.” He said through gritted teeth, of course Shinra was involved.

“You should smile more y’know? You have a really nice smile.” You smile up at him, cheeks completely flushed as you stared at his face again leaning a little bit closer this time.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? You’re way too wasted to be out on your own.” Shizuo backed away as he finally let you go, he went to open his apartment door and let you inside.

“I can take care of myself!” You said following his lead “And stop distractin me, I'm trynna to tell you something!” You cried as he closed the door behind you two.

“I’m sure you can.” He chuckled at you as you stomped your foot childishly.

“And I’m happy to let you.” Shizuo raised a finger and flicked your forehead. “After you sober up.”

You deflate and start to pout. This isn’t what you came here for at all. You better hurry and tell him before you lose your nerve.

“But I lo-!”

“Tell me later. Let’s get you to bed.” He said, leading you by the shoulders to his bedroom.

“You can have my bed for the night, I’ll take the couch.”

“I don’t wanna put you out Shizuo, I can-“

Before you could finish your sentence Shizuo shoved some clothes into your arms and ushered you into the bathroom to go change.

After what seemed like forever you finally reemerged from the bathroom in an old pair of boxers and a t-shirt Shizuo had let you borrow.

A blush rose to his cheeks at the sight of you in his clothes. Bust he shook his head and brushed the thought aside as he noticed you fidgeting with your hands nervously.

“Care to tell me why you came to crash here in the first place? Your place isn’t that far from Russia Sushi.” He asked as he led you to the bedroom again.

“I don’t know! Me and Shinra got really drunk and I was super anxious and just thinking too much.” You began to ramble as you sat on the edge of the bed “ I didn’t want to go home and didn’t really know where to go and just well… I trust you Shizuo.”

You trusted him.

No one had ever told him that before.

“I think I knew you’d take care of me is all.” You said looking down at your feet.

Shizuo didn’t know what to say. Here you were pouring your heart out to him and he was just- what?

What was he doing? What did he want to do?

Silently he forces you to lay down in bed and tucks you in.

It didn’t matter what he wanted to do about it right now. All that mattered was that you were vulnerable and you needed him.

As he turns out the light and goes to leave the room you call out to him one last time.

“You’d be such a good boyfriend, you know?” You yawn with closed eyes.

Shizuo choked on the air in his lungs.

“G-get some rest.” He stutters as he carries himself to the living room and plops down on the couch.

For the rest of the night sleep eluded him.

Was that what you came over to tell him? That he was pretty and you trusted him?

What about that whole boyfriend thing?

Shizuo pushed a closed fist to his forehead and closed his eyes, trying to sleep. He had a lot to talk to you about in the morning.

The next morning you felt like absolute dog shit.

“My head….” You whined as you slowly sit up.

The action makes your stomach turn and you find yourself rushing to the bathroom.

“Morning” a voice grumbled from behind you. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and stand up from the toilet to be greeted by Shizuo, dressed in his usual bartender attire, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly in the bathroom doorway.

“I’d ask how you’re feeling but I can tell you probably feel like shit.”

“Worse than shit.” You corrected scooting past him to sit on the bed. Just as you were about to lay back down you realized…. Wait a minute. What was Shizuo doing in your house?

“Sh-Shizuo?” You ask quirking your head to the side

“Yeah?”

“Not that I mind but what are you doing in my apartment?”

“You mean what are you doing in mine? I was wondering the same thing.” He said crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned on the door frame.

Memories of the night before come flooding back to you in an instant.

Oh shit. So it wasn’t all a dream after all.

You damn near fall out of bed as you jump up to your feet.

“Ahhh I’m so sorry Shizuo I don’t know what I was thinking!” You cried.

“It’s fine, better you come here than anywhere else.” He sighed, going to sit on the edge of the bed. He patted a spot next to him for you to sit which you obliged nervously.

“Why’d you drink so much anyways?” He asked curiously

“I don’t know! It was Shinra and Celty’s anniversary and he kinda just talked me into it!”

An awkward silence enveloped you two as he gritted his teeth irately before he broke the silence

“… next time I’m going with you.”

“Huh?”

“Can’t trust that asshat as far as I can throw him.” He grumbled as he closed his eyes and nodded his head set on his resolve.

Your cheeks flushed at Shizuo just casually inviting himself along with you the next time but you nodded your head anyways

“O-ok…thanks Shizuo.” You said shakily

“About what you wanted to tell me last night…” he started

Your cheeks flushed again.

“I-I have no idea what you're talking about.” You said looking away, liquid courage had long since left your system.

Shizuo saw your expression and your aversion to his hard gaze and instantly knew, no matter how hard he pressed you, you’d probably never tell him the truth.

It was up to him to tell you instead it seemed.

“Listen…” he swallowed hard. “I-I think you're pretty too.”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. No way was this happening right now.

“Wha-“ you started but was cut off.

“Ahh I’m not really good at this shit.“ he interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shizuo?”

It was now or never he thought.

“Uhh,” he hesitates for a second, clearing his throat into his fist. “did you maybe…wanna go out some time?”

“I- what”

“You don’t have too if you don’t wanna, I just thought-“

“No!” It was your turn to interrupt him. “I-I mean I’d love too Shizuo!”

“You sure?” He asks raising an eyebrow at you, he didn’t want to force you into anything if it made you uncomfortable.

“There’s nothing else I’d want more, trust me.” You finally smile closed eyed up at him.

#yodito speaks #shizuo heiwajima #drrr shizuo #durarara #durarara x reader #drrr x reader #shizuo heiwajima x reader #shizuo x reader

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chansbabygirlsstuff · 8 months

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Just a bet.... Chapter 1

Boring, that's how I describe math class, the teacher shits on us for not remembering the formula for x or whatever she is blabbering about.

let me explain how college works for me, There are always groups of everything and clubs for anything, for example, the soccer majors, you know the leaders there are amazingly fit and all, all the girls there want them for their own, but that's not how it works in here then you have the dance majors who are incredibly sexy because the way they move is so ugh.....and music majors hot af, science majors they are actually the funniest and smartest of all the uni, theater majors, dramatic af, psychology majors they only read your mind and always so nosy in whatever is going around because they are 'trying to understand whats going on in their heads so they can solve it ', law majors super gossips, and more, you know at the end it's a university and there is lots of stuff to study.

My name is Y/n and I'm a law major currently in my 2nd year here, but I really don't have friends, just being around so many people is not a good influence all the time but people talk to me sometimes ( when they need something from you) some girls in my major are amiable and cute so maybe they are not a bad influence.

"Y/n" Yuna screamed my name from across the class making people look at her and then at me, as she walked towards me with her friend group: Tzuyu, Mina, and Lia.

"hey girl you still up for studying in the library?" "Sure" you answered remembering that they invited you to study yesterday for a group project. you stand up and follow them out of the class to change your path to go to your locker, as you put your stuff away you hear loud laughs and teasing between a group of boys passing through the hallways behind you, the sassy, fun, amiable guys at the school, the popular Boys they are pretty chill but of course, they have there bad shit like hookups during the week with different girls and then leaving them heartbroken after

Seugmin is a baseball major he pretty cool ngl, then there is Lee Know a dance major, Felix in computer science major, Han, Chanbing, and Bang Chan are Music majors but they also studying something else Han is in a Scientific major and Chanbing is in Economics Chan is in Business and then there's I.N who also studies law and Hyunjin who is in soccer major and Accounting.

"Y/nnnnnnn" Hyunjin comes running toward me with a cute smile and a wobbly run and grabs me from my shoulders moving me side to side as I almost lose balance "What do you want Hwang?" I said annoyed because he only talks to me to annoy me or ask me for something, like last time...

Flashback*

"Y/nnnnnn," he says screaming from the end of the hallway as I turn to him and say, "What Hwang?" I looked dead into his eyes "Oh don't be mean to me you love me" he said dramatically" " I just wanted to borrow 20 bucks please" he begged "For what?" he stayed silent and said "Well I bet Han that he couldn't fit his whole hand in his mouth and he did it but now it's stuck so Lee know is taking to the hospital, but now I owe that dumb fuck 20 bucks and I didn't bring cash with me, so please have mercy with this beautiful soul in front of you"he pouted his lips and gave the puppy eys as he almost kneeled down "fine! you better give them back tomorrow or you dead meat" I warned him as he left smiling and blowing a kiss at me jokingly

End of Flashback*

"So... I bet I.N to do karaoke night yesterday at his house and I would've done his statistics homework but now I'm too tired to do it and it has Law examples, you and he study that so can I please copy yours for him" he pouted his lips as I sighed and open my locker to give him my notebook "thank you so much I owe you so much girl," he said screaming and running towards his next class as I got to mine.

12:05 pm

it was lunchtime time so I went out to a cafe to get myself caffeine for the rest of the day and a chicken sandwich "That will be 14.99" the cashier said to me as I opened my wallet to get my card "I'll pay for that" a man next to me swiped his card for my order before I could even say anything "ok perfect please wait on the line and your stuff will be here soon" the girl said with a smile and left.

the man looked at me and smiled "Chan?" I asked confused as to why he was there and why he paid for my order "Hey, what up?" he said casually as he leaned against the table "Can I get the same please?" he said to the cashier as he paid his stuff, "umm why did you pay for my things? I was going to do it" I told him while he smiled and told me "You Hyujins friend right? Y/n?"

I looked at him suspiciously and said "Yes and no I'm not giving homework for free" "Technically is not free, I just paid for your meal, but I'm not here for any favours no worries" He said as we took a seat in one of the tables, I ate my food feeling weird cause wtf do he want now? " so is there anything you need?" I said and he looked taken back at my comment that yeah... it was kinda rude.

"no nothing I just saw you were a good friend of Hyunjin's and you seem like a fun friend to have around, so I wanted to be friends with you too," he says smiling at me as I looked confused at him "Plus you're cute," he says with a little smirk appearing in his face "No seriously what do you need?" I said a bit annoyed by his comment and he just chuckled "Nothing relax I just want to be friends, as I said you look like a fun girl" he said as we continued eating, and then before I was finished someone entered the cafe "Chan my man" they fist bombed as the other male sits " hi in Han, your Hyujins friend right?" "OK, what does Hyunjin need now? cause this is weird"

"what do you mean? can we just talk to you?" Han said as he looked offended by my feistiness, I put my head down in shame but you can't trust these guys, they are always up to no good, as I tried to finish my food and just replied to their questions and small talk I got up and picked my stuff "ok I need to go, class is going to start soon, it was nice meeting you all" "let me take you to class" Chan said as he got up to accompany me but I stopped him before anything else "oh you don't have to don't worry I have to go to the library to study anyways" "I was heading there, lets study together" he said keeping up with me as I walked " I have a project with the girls so you will be stuck listening to us, so if your planning to pay attention to what your studying then I recommend to study in another table, they can be loud sometimes" " no worries I would like to learn what you know" he smiles as he follows me, why is he acting as he knew me since forever? doesn't he know that he looks like a creep who is about to kidnap a 23 female or what?.

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bimrwolf · 2 years

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Next Time?

steve harrington x afab!reader words: 6,810 warnings: smut ! 18+ (minors dni) ; IMPLIED UNDERAGED SEX BUT NOT GRAPHIC ; porn with little to no plot summary: Three instances where Steve and reader find themselves in intimate situations. a/n: this is the fic that i really tried to make a plot out of it but reader and steve had different ideas. i am not sorry

The March rain drummed against the window, rolling down the foggy window built of condensation from chilly air that was still leftover from winter. She kept wiping the glass with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, watching the water droplets from the sky patter on the street. It looked like small crystals beating against the road from the rain being illuminated by the glow of the street lamps.

She chewed on her bottom lip, heart racing anytime a car passed by, eyes flickering over the clock on her nightstand which still hadn’t changed from 7:02 the last time she checked. A defeated sigh blew out of her nose. Of course he wasn’t coming.

Why would he?

He was Steve Harrington and she was just… her.

He was probably with Tommy Hagan laughing their asses off at her advances. Laughing about how she left the note in his locker to meet her under the bleachers in the gymnasium during lunch.

She was surprised he had shown up, hair a little disheveled like he had been running his fingers through it, wearing a green and egg-white polo shirt tucked into his denim jeans. His brows were creased when he saw her.

“You came.” She had a smile of relief.

There was a flicker of uneasiness that crossed his face, clearly uncertain why a girl he’s never talked to before had placed a note in his locker to meet up. “Yeah.”

There was an awkward beat.

“Will you have sex with me?” She blurted, instantly regretting it when Steve’s eyes widened, blinking rapidly.

“‘Scuse me?” He didn’t say it in a rude tone or anything. He was just unsure if he had heard her right.

It felt stupid to repeat it. In fact, she felt stupid asking at all. Steve Harrington was undoubtedly the most popular boy in her grade, declared as “the King” of Hawkins High. He shouldn’t even be talking to her right now.

She stepped closer to him, grateful he didn’t flinch or back away. “I want you to have sex with me.”

“I heard you the first time, Y/n.”

He knew who she was.

The tension in her shoulders relaxed.

He crossed his arms across his chest, tilting his head. “Why do you want to? I mean, why do you want to have sex with me?”

It was embarrassing. “I’ve never…” She made a face.

“Never what?” He made her want to bang her head against the concrete walls.

“I’ve never done it before!” She exclaimed.

“Oh.”

This was already a huge mistake. He was going to laugh in her face and she would have to transfer schools and change her name and–

“You want me to be your first?” Did he just smile?

“Uh… yeah. It’s just there’s this boy I’m talking to and I really like him and my friends keep telling me he wants to do it, but like I said I haven’t. I don’t want to be bad or anything and then my friends told me I need to find someone that knows what they’re doing so I can get it over with. So then I thought, hey, Steve Harrington looks like he knows what he’s doing.” Her hands flew to her face, shaking her head. “God, I don’t know why I told you all of that.”

Steve looked her up and down, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth. “My parents are home this week.”

“Oh okay.” That was his way of rejecting her. She turned on her heels to leave.

“Woah, wait.” He grabbed her arm gently. She looked as his hand gripped around her flesh. Looking back up at him, she felt at ease again. His eyes were soft, the corner of his mouth upturned. “I just meant we can’t at my house.”

“My parents have a thing tonight.” Her eyes shimmered with courage but her tone was laced with innocence, probably getting way too over her head.

He let go of her. “I’ll be over at seven.”

She wondered if he was planning on coming at all. Maybe he had realized if anyone had found out about them, his social status at school would plummet into the ground. She wasn’t worth risking his popularity.

When she was about to give up and get ready for bed, she noticed a figure walking up her driveway, jumping when the doorbell rang. She hurried out of her room and to the front door, looking through the peephole, a breath hitched in her throat. Steve Harrington was standing on her porch, hunched over with his hands in his pockets, dripping wet. She quickly opened the door and let him inside.

“Hi.” She greeted.

“Hi.” He took off his drenched tennis shoes, placing them neatly by the door.

“I could put your socks in the dryer.” She offered, looking down at his feet. His tube socks were so wet theysoaked the carpet.

He shifted uncomfortably. “Sure, thanks.”

She couldn’t deny the awkward silence as they ventured to her laundry room, flooded with her parents’ clothes, spilling out of white baskets, stained of wine and tomato sauce. She watched Steve bend over, tugging the socks off, slugging some water on her ankles, throwing them into the dryer. “You wanna go to your room?” He asked her.

It felt weird to have a boy inside her bedroom, especially the boy being Steve Harrington, seeing a part of her no one did at school. She spent the entire afternoon after school cleaning it but had forgotten to hide anything that was embarrassing, she still had dolls decorated on her shelf, bed covered in plush stuffed animals. She was fully clothed but now she felt bare and vulnerable as he examined the contents, picking up a picture of her as a kid.

He wandered over to her bed, sitting down, running a hand through his damp chestnut locks.

She had never really looked at him before. She wasn’t obtuse. Steve was attractive but she had never taken the time to see how there were a few freckles scattered on his face, or how his eyes captured light.

She felt self-conscious, pulling her sweatshirt down over her thighs; nevertheless, she joined him on the bed, ignoring the heart palpitations in her chest. “How was basketball practice?”

“Uh… good.”

She nodded. “The game last week was good. Especially that three-pointer.”

Steve smiled. “Didn’t take you for a basketball fan.”

“Just a little.” She admitted, putting her pointer finger and thumb up with a gap in between.

Steve laughed. It was the surprising element she needed to diffuse the tension in the room. His soft, smooth like silk chuckle and awkward smile made her feel at ease.

She examined his face, wondering what he was thinking, if he thought this was crazy they were about to have sex. She gulped when his tongue rolled against his bottom lip, eyes flickering to hers. She knew exactly what that meant, having seen way too many romance movies. He was ready to kiss her. “You’re really pretty.” He said, swallowing, his Adam's bobbing, face inching closer to hers.

“Thanks.” Her words got lost when he pressed his lips gently against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut when his hand rested on her waist.

She had heard rumors that Steve was a good kisser, never believing it until his lush lips moved against hers. Instinctively, she followed, parting her lips, putting her hand on his neck, shivering when his cold fingers slipped under the hem of shirt and brushed her skin.

It was bumping their noses and clanking teeth when Steve deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue against her bottom lip, moaning when her warm tongue grazed his.

When his hand slid up, thumbing the bottom of her bra, she broke the kiss. “Are you thirsty?”

“‘M good.” Steve didn’t even open his eyes back up, kissing her neck and for a second she melted into the feeling.

Then his hand squeezed her boob, her eyes snapped back open. “Are you sure? We have Coke.” She asked him.

There was a long breath of air that blew on her neck, then she felt cold, his hands were in his lap, looking up at the ceiling. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to. I just… I dunno. Were you nervous your first time?” She adjusted herself on the bed, sitting criss cross, facing him.

He thought for a moment, not looking at her. “Yeah.”

“I know I’m just another hook-up to you but… I dunno. I still want to be good.” It felt pathetic to admit something like that.

Steve chuckled to himself, twisting his body to mirror her. She furrowed her brows at his half-hearted smile. “Do you trust me?”

His question baffled her, tripping on a series of words until he tilted his head, his big brown honeyed irises coating her in a thick feeling she had never felt before. She tentatively nodded, taking his hands in hers, moving them slowly to her chest.

She wasn’t sure how to feel once they were bare, him laying her down on the bed, hovering over her, his damp hair sticking to her forehead as he positioned himself, his lips brushing her cheek, repeatedly whispering, “So pretty.”

Every single one of her friends had talked how it felt during sex. Euphoric, like that first drop on the rollercoaster. But none of them told her the aftermath. Sweaty and sticky, standing awkwardly in front of a dryer, watching the dial move agonizingly slow. If she had known it would only last five minutes, she would have asked to play a board game before they did anything.

She knew it was just as awful for him, practically running out of her house after he asked her if she had finished and she replied, “I don’t know.” His jaw clenched, embarrassed, claiming she would know if it had happened.

Maybe he regretted not accepting that Coke.

He didn’t even put his shoes back on, hurrying out of the front door, feet splashing in the puddles of water. He had mentioned his car was parked a block away to not give her neighbors any suspicions if he had pulled up.

She set her forehead on the door, letting out an exasperated sigh. Alone again with the pitter-patter of rain. When she went to move her spoiled sheets from the washer to the dryer, she nearly laughed, his tube socks were still in there.

Neither of them spoke or acknowledged each other as days, weeks and months rolled by. She had come to terms that he saw her as another girl on his checklist, and before long, Steve had become only another classmate to her. She only had a pair of faded socks to testify it had ever happened.

–

Becky’s house was packed. Full of freshly graduated seniors, holding onto the last amount of freedom they had before being thrown out to the dogs. Which meant enough booze to risk the chance of alcohol poisoning, sticky fluids exchanged between horny teenagers that never had the chance to do it before, because why the fuck not? High school was over. None of it mattered.

Music pulsated around the house. Bodies bumping into one another, stench of weed filtering from the backyard. Y/n took a sip of the mixed drink she got earlier from a large glass bowl, her sticky lip gloss making a shiny mark on her cup, absentmindedly listening to two of her friends discuss their summer plans working at the new Starcourt mall. She, of course, was stuck working at the mini-mart right in town.

Someone announced that Billy was about to do a keg stand, most of the party-goers swarmed outside, allowing her to finally breathe. Her friends giggled, looking at her for permission to join the crowd. She rolled her eyes, motioning her head to the back door, smiling when they rushed out. Tired of her drink she shot the rest of it to the back of her throat, placing the empty cup on a table nearby. The sudden urge to pee washed over her.

Upstairs was much quieter than downstairs. She could still hear the bumping music and the loud chanting from outside but it was much more pleasant that she could hear her thoughts. Becky had made a sign for the bathroom. Y/n couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want guests snooping around in her room either.

When she opened the door to the bathroom she froze in her place. Her eyes immediately locked with a sea of champagne clouded with a dark hazy crowd. Steve Harrington sat on the counter, a blunt in his hand and a frazzled look on his face. His hair was mussed, a strand hugging his forehead.

“Pretty sure Becky said no smoking in the house.” She said, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled. “Pretty sure it’s bathroom etiquette to knock.” His voice was smooth and warm. He then held the blunt out closer in her direction. “Want some?”

Her need to pee immediately went away, a smirk creeped on her face. She never turned down a free chance to smoke. As long as he didn’t bill her later.

She could feel him watch her close the door, clicking the lock in place, not wanting to make the same mistake he did. You know, in case an unwanted guest walked in on them breaking the rules.

The walk from the door to the sink felt daunting under Steve’s scrutiny. He wouldn’t look away when she grabbed the blunt from his fingers or even when she inhaled the smoke. She smiled to herself, hopping on the counter next to him. Their shoulders brushed each other as she adjusted herself. “Surprised to see you here.” She told him.

“Yeah, guess I wanted to soak it all up before it was too late.” Steve said.

“What? Was prom king not enough for you?”

He laughed but didn’t answer, looking at the gray shag bath mat in front of the bathtub. “You ever wonder how an ant feels when it tries to walk on carpet.” He took a drag, smoke puffed from his parted lips. “Don’t you think they get confused and shit? It would be like walking through a maze.”

She thought for a moment, taking another hit herself. “Ants are smart. They’ll crawl on top not through. Like this.” She moved her hand up and down like a wave. The two of them cracking up at the silly thought. His shoulder bumped into hers. She briefly looked at it when he didn’t bother to move it away.

“You’re funny. Wonder why we never really talked after…” His voice trailed off, filling the silence by putting the blunt back between his lips.

“After we had the worst sex ever?” She gave him a pointed look.

“I wouldn’t say the worst…” Steve mumbled.

She hummed in response, sniggering when he frowned. “It’s okay, Harrington. Practice makes perfect, right?” She patted him on the shoulder.

“Well, considering it was my first time too, I suppose you’re right.” Her eyes widened, choking on the smoke she had just inhaled. She nearly didn’t believe him. But by the way he ducked his head, trying to cover his pink flushed cheeks, she realized he wasn’t lying. Her curious mind scrambled the many reasons why he had never told her the truth. Why he had really accepted her offer under the gymnasium bleachers. Maybe his friends had been pressuring for him to do it and when the opportunity fell in his lap, he took it.

There was a moment of silence. Her senses seemed to be heightened because she could hear the water move through the pipes and the drops of water coming from the shower. She could smell Steve’s cologne, vanilla and gentle woods. It felt like her head was full of the ocean, rolling in soft waves crashing against her skull. She began to giggle at an absurd thought that crossed her mind.

Steve’s brows creased, looking at how she was hunched over, shoulders moving up and down, a quiet snort slipping out. He looked at her hand. There was nothing left of the blunt. The remains had fallen to the ground. “What?”

She waved her hand at him. “Oh, nothing… I just… I was just wondering something.”

“What’s that?”

“What does a blowjob feel like for you?”

Steve looked dumbfounded. “Pardon?”

“You heard me. I’ve always wondered if I had a penis what a blowjob would feel like.” She sighed, face cracked open in a smile.

He still seemed to be in disbelief. Her outlandish question had made him at a loss for words. “Uh… I dunno. I guess like sex but more wet?” He ran his fingers through his hair. She glanced at how the sleeve of his striped polo hugged his bicep. “It’s warm and really intense. Sometimes I have to hold on to something because it feels so good my knees get weak or I feel like I’m floating in the air.”

Her stomach twisted into a knot hearing him talk about how it felt to have someone’s mouth around him. She swallowed, clenching her legs to relieve the growing pressure. “Oh.”

“I imagine it’s sort of the same feeling you get when someone… you know. Does it to you.” Steve’s eyes were dark. But she was positive it was because of the weed and the weed only. Not because of the suffocating heat that had enveloped them in the bathroom.

“Wouldn’t know.” She answered him, biting her lip.

“Oh.” His gaze flickered down to her legs. How the skirt she wore rode up her thighs, exposing just the right amount of skin. He took his pointer finger, brushing it over the soft flesh. “A shame.”

Her heart beating against her chest was almost deafening. “Why’s that?”

He leaned his head closer, mouth ghosting her ear. “You have no clue what sweet sounds you would make.”

Her jaw slacked, slowly turning her face towards him. His Adam’s apple bobbed, licking his lips. “I locked the door.” Her voice betrayed her, cracking in her throat.

He smirked, glancing at her lips then back up. She didn’t hesitate, tangling her fingers in his hair, mouth attacking his. It was sloppy and open mouthed. His knuckles turned white, gripping her thigh like he was afraid she’d hop off the counter and leave. But in fact, she felt like she was being glued to the granite, the edge cutting into the back of her thighs, her body weighing down with each kiss.

Steve broke away, panting. He slid off the counter, gripping her hips, pushing his body between her legs, moaning when she wrapped around him, pulling him closer against her. Her crotch pressing right above his waistline. He couldn’t help but jerk her tighter against him, soaking up the warmth hiding between the soft cotton of her underwear. His mouth found hers again, swallowing her soft gasps. “I want to show you what it feels like. Then I want you to tell me.”

A breath hitched in her throat, chest heaving. How did they even end up here? She went perfectly alright without thinking about him since sophomore year. I mean there was the occasional reminder when she snuck a boy into her room. However, not once did his name cross her mind when boys trailed their hands up her body or when she was alone in her room.

“Do you want me to show you?” His words fell into her neck, melting on the tender spot, sending a shiver down her spine. She nodded.

“Words.” The demand was short, lifting her chin up, a smug look on his face as she whined under his touch.

“Please, show me.”

Steve smiled, sinking down, sprawling his hands from her hips to the outside of her thighs. He placed a kiss on her knee and on the other one, his mouth trailing up until his head was fully under her skirt, the tinge of his lips over the thin cotton. His hands joined underneath, fingers running under the waistband of her underwear, letting it go with a snap. “Steve,” she hissed.

He chuckled, sliding them down her legs. She was the impatient one, kicking them somewhere across the bathroom. “Look how gorgeous you are.” His thumb grazed her, sticky and begging for attention.

She hated that she couldn’t see what he was doing or his facial expressions.

He kissed her again, sending a spark from her pelvis to her toes. His tongue slid inside, groaning at her sweet taste. She gripped the edge of the counter with one hand, the other in his mop of hair. He then found it, the one spot forcing her toes to curl in her white tennis shoes. “S- so good.” Feels His tongue lapped around, circling and sucking. Her head fell back against the mirror behind her, arching her back. A loud moan filled the heavy hot bathroom, adding gasoline to the fire burning around her, Steve working faster. It was intoxicating and made her dizzy, more drunk and high than cheap vodka and a rolled blunt could ever make her feel. Her chest swelled. “Steve… I think–”

A loud bang from the bathroom door interrupted her thoughts.

Steve detached from her. “Just a minute!” He turned back and continued.

But whoever was at the door must have not heard him, more banging, door rattling.

Steve groaned in frustration. “Can you wait one more minute, goddamn.”

Whoever was on the other side of the door answered. “I gotta piss man.”

The Harrington boy let out an exasperated sigh, looking at her apologetically, knowing whatever moment she had was lost into the bathroom air, slipping between the vents.

He helped her off the counter, her chest flushed against his. She smiled innocently, taking her thumb to wipe his lips from her sticky lipgloss and the sinful wetness from between her legs. “Don’t worry about it. When I go home and finish myself off, I’ll be thinking of you.�� She patted his chest, straightening the collar of his polo, a smug smile on her face when she noticed how he squirmed, adjusting himself in his jeans before she unlocked the bathroom door.

–

She regretted not applying to college outside of fucking Hawkins, Indiana. If she had to ring up one more sleazy drunk, telling her to smile or ask if she was doing anything after work, she would bang her head between the freezer doors. She almost had a job lined up at Starcourt mall. Until it burned down three days before her interview. Least to say, she was not thrilled when she had to come to work and throw out overstocked expired products the next day after bragging for weeks to her co-workers she was finally getting out of there.

She was stuck watching teenagers roll in, using their fake IDs to buy cheap liquor for boat rides on Lover’s Lake, sun kissed, grinning ear-to-ear because they were young and no one cared what they did, because they weren’t working in the goddamn mini-mart.

She and two others were on closing duty one night during a summer shower, cracking thunder, vibrating the entire store, glass jars clanking, rain hammering the metal roof. It was agonizingly slow. Only a few people walked in, buying ice cream and microwavable popcorn for a lazy night in with friends, lovers. She was hunched over, skimming through a tabloid, popping her pink bubble gum. Her attention was grabbed when she heard someone mutter ‘shit’ and shoes squeaking against the epoxy white floor. She looked up, smirking as the boy with overgrown dark locks, a green polo and his denim jeans was walking in the opposite direction. Do they get tighter every time she sees him? “Where you going, Harrington? No other registers open besides mine.”

He stopped, shoulders rising and falling in a deep sigh. She watched him look around for a potential escape before finally turning around rushing over, picking out a random bar of candy from the rack, placing it on top of another item in his hand. She felt irritated that he had set them all the way at the end of the conveyor, having to wait agonizingly for them to reach her. Steve stood in front, an awkward tightlipped smile, hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his feet. She couldn’t help but notice the large bruise under his eye, a bandaid at the corner of his eyebrow, and a cut that had scabbed over on his chin. “Still getting in fights I see.”

He self-consciously touched the violet bump under his eye. “Y-yeah.”

She picked up the candy bar, scanning it quickly. “Need a bag?”

“Uh… no.” He coughed, nervously glancing at the floor.

She furrowed her brows but shook it off, placing the candy on the bar. She picked up the other item, not paying full attention until she scanned it. Her brows raised and had to fight off the urge to laugh. It was in her training not to address the purchases of customers but she couldn’t help it. “Fun night planned?”

Steve poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, closing his eyes. “Can you just tell me how much I owe?”

The shit-eating grin on her face made him duck his head. His arms crossed his chest, her eyes glanced towards his arms hugging against the fabric of the shirt, the fluorescent light above spotlighting the freckles laying on his neck, calling out for her to kiss them. He gave her a look, forcing her to pull down from reality and look at the monitor, snorting. “This is just so easy,” she whispered to herself. “Sixty-nine cents.”

If he was trying not to react, he was failing miserably, hands clumsily rummaging through his pockets, placing the change down in her outstretched one, fingers lingering longer than they should. “I’m guessing you and your girlfriend are pretty serious, then?” She had noticed him hanging out a lot with his co-worker from the ice cream parlor at the mall. She was pretty, tall, slender, and covered in freckles.

He seemed confused. “Girlfriend? Wait… you think me and Robin are together? No! We’re not dating or anything. Just friends. Nothing more.”

She chuckled. “Woah, lover boy. Didn’t mean to strike a chord.” Her eyes flickered back to the box of Trojans, imagining him going back into his car where a girl was probably waiting inside.

“Can I level with you?”

She looked up at him, wishing he’d just take the items and get out of the store, even praying for one of the drunks to show up to creep him out so he’d leave. “Hm?”

He leaned forward, dropping his voice into a whisper even though he was the only customer in line. “It’s so embarrassing. I’m only buying these because the ones I did have are expired.”

“Doesn’t it take like years for condoms to expire?”

Steve laughed, shrugging. “Yeah. I told you it was embarrassing.”

A half-hearted smile tugged on her lips. “It’s not embarrassing.”

They shared a moment, looking at each other, not-so-secretly checking each other out. She blew a bubble, popping it slowly, licking and dragging her teeth against the sticky strings stuck to her bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. Not even when a group of kids came in or one of her co-workers walked by with a bucket because there was a leak on aisle nine. When she did break eye contact, she took her pen, scribbling something on the magazine, ignoring the fact she didn’t buy it when she tore a piece off. She picked up the items he bought, holding it out for him to take, handing him the piece of paper as well.

“What’s this?”

She smirked. “My number. For whenever those are about to expire.”

His jaw went slack, a dark cloud flooded his buttered chocolate irises. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “You know, my other ones. They don’t expire until tomorrow.”

Never in her life did she sludge soapy water against the floor so fast once the last customer walked out, practically pushing them out, locking the door behind them. Her eyes glimmered when she noticed the shiny maroon BMW, wipers sloshing rain off the window as it waited patiently. Her co-workers gave her a suspicious look when she denied a ride from Jan, watching her jog over to the vehicle they’ve never seen before. She knocked on the window, opening the door when she heard the lock click. The inside of his car smelled like expensive smoky leather, clean except for an empty candy wrapper on the floorboard.

There was no waste of time. Steve barely grabbed the clutch when her hand fell on his thigh, squeezing gently. It was just like the bathroom. It was hungry kisses, bumping their noses, clanking teeth, giggling because they always found themselves in this position. Never talking, until an unusual circumstance brought them together in dirty open-mouthed kisses and filthy touching.

Steve swore he was dreaming when she took off her pants, crawling over the middle console, straddling his lap. His hands on her ass, pulling her into him since she was dangerously close to the horn. He tried to say something, but she quickly shushed him by rolling her hips, drawing a moan from his red swollen lips into her mouth. She bucked her hips again. His hands crept under her shirt which had soaked up raindrops, splaying his rough hands on her back, finding the lace of her bra. She reached behind, grabbing his wrists, resting them on her ribs. “Please touch me.”

“I’m kind of thirsty actually.” He murmured on her throat, smiling at the memory that flashed his mind.

“I’ll get you a Coke once you touch me.” She found her hand at the nape of his neck, running them up his dark locks, tugging– maybe a little too hard. Nevertheless, he took a handful of her breast over her bra. She felt him jump underneath his jeans as he messaged them, closing his eyes when he caught her biting her lip from the pleasure. Impatient, waiting and thinking about him since the bathroom a few months ago, leaving her unfinished, craving him some nights when she touched herself. She unbuckled his belt. He removed one of his hands from underneath her shirt, pulling the lever of his seat, the back crashing down and hitting the backseat. They worked together to shimmy his jeans and underwear to his thighs, his heat slapping his stomach.

She stroked him, biting his neck, asking him where the condoms were. While stealing another kiss, he reached to the middle console, pulling out the box he had bought in the store, fumbling to open it. “What about the old ones?”

“Oh, I lied. They expired like a week ago. I really didn’t want to wait three years.” He admitted, pulling out the square shaped wrapper.

“You could have asked me on a date. That’s what most guys do as an excuse to sleep with me.” She said, watching him tear the wrapper with his teeth.

“If we were still in school I could’ve put an ambiguous note in your locker to meet up.” He chuckled, rolling the rubber on his length. Resting his hands on her hips.

“That’s creepy. I would have never shown up.” She dragged a digit across his jaw, feeling the cut under his lip. “Don’t you know Hawkins is cursed? I’d be afraid of ending up in a ditch somewhere.” She took note how his expression changed, pursed lips, ticked jaw, and eyes flickered elsewhere. She furrowed her brows, turning his face so he’d look at her again, swallowing the question if the bruise under his eye meant more than just another stupid fight. “Hey, I was kidding.”

The corner of his mouth twitched and his face fell softer, bringing the girl into a tender kiss.

She hovered over him and he used his thumb to push her underwear to the side so she could sink down. They both gasped. She stayed still a moment, reveling in the feeling of him inside of her. Her hands used his chest for support to start bouncing. Slow at first, savoring the warmth and tight pressure, picking up a steady rhythm once she got familiar with his length. Steve’s fingers clawing crescents into the flesh of her hips. Then, like a lightning bolt, unexpected and fiery, she lifted herself almost completely out of him, before submerging back down. “Jesus,” he groaned, grabbing her ass for mental support— also he really wanted to. She wrapped her hand around his throat, meeting him in a dangerously sultry kiss, smirking at how utterly gone he looked. If he had his neck leaned back any further it would break. His eyes were closed, lips parted, honey covered moans released from the back of his throat.

She went faster, deeper, noticing how he thrusted his hips upwards to meet her rhythm, chasing the bubbling heat at the base of her stomach. “You make me feel so good.” She coed.

“Yeah?” He was almost breathless, chest heaving.

“Yeah,” she mewled. “You turn me on so much. It took a lot of power in me not to get on my knees in the store.”

Steve made a noise at the back of his throat, squeezing her ass a little tighter. “Can’t stop thinking about the party. Can’t stop thinking about you.”

She shifted forward, both of them crying out mixed with the rolls of thunder and the creaking of the car. Water droplets rolled down the fog covered windows, casting a warm blue tone of light across Steve’s face. “You feel amazing. Fuck, you’re so… beautiful.” He muttered, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip.

She ducked her head, wondering how being in her work uniform made her beautiful. “I’m not even shirtless.”

“Doesn’t matter.” It was nonchalant, no tone of flirting or trying to be charming. For a moment she believed him to be earnest. “I’m close.” His words were lodged in the back of his throat. His hooded eyes were hazy.

“Me too.” Her words stuck to the sticky flesh of his neck, latching it with her teeth, sucking and licking, painting a rosy bloom. She sat back, raking a sharp breath of air, jolts of electricity pulsing through her legs and toes as his tip kissed her most sensitive area. The fabric of his polo bunched up in her hands as he clung to the flesh of her hips, bringing her harder and deeper against him. “Oh my god.”

“Jesus, sweetheart. I could just listen to those pretty sounds you make and cum.”

“Then do it.” She challenged him, brushing the hair sticking to his forehead. “Please come with me.”

That seemed to send the boy right over the edge. His pace quickened, she followed suit soon after. The air felt filthy and hot, making her wish she had taken off her shirt but they were too far gone in one another. Her walls grabbed onto him tighter with each unrelentless plunge. He sat up slightly, chasing her lips, drowning himself in the agonizing and pleading cries she made. She stuttered a flood of curses as the shockwaves rippled her entire body.

Steve’s eyes rolled back, choking out her name, twitching inside her, hips lazily thrusting upward, finally falling apart.

She hoisted herself out of him but didn’t leave his lap, panting, running the back of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Steve chuckled, setting the seat back to its normal position. Their chests flushed against each other. She could hear Steve’s racing heartbeat. Her mouth opened to say something, but was cut off by a sharp knock on his window. She jumped at the intrusion, her ass hitting the horn. “Shit!” She scrambled over the console, quickly putting her jeans back on. Steve took the condom off, tossing it in the back, buckling his jeans.

“Harrington, I know you’re in there.” Although the voice was unfamiliar to her, the way Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed made her believe he knew exactly who it was.

He turned on the car, rolling down the window enough so the rain wouldn’t pour inside, revealing a tall shaggy haired man in a blue police uniform. “Officer Callahan,” he greeted.

Callahan peered inside, narrowing his eyes at Steve and then at the girl who had her head ducked. Callahan scratched the mustache on his top lip, looking at his watch. “The mini-mart closed forty-five minutes ago. There a reason we’re still parked out here?”

“Sorry, I was just taking her home.” Steve told him, cracking a smile.

Callahan coughed awkwardly, the smell wafting from the cracked window told him all too well the boy was lying. “I thought parking lot rendezvous were in the past, Harrington?”

Steve didn’t answer, looking like a kid who had just been scolded. “I had forgotten my bag, officer. I was about to go in and get it.”

Callahan and Steve looked at her, two very different expressions on their faces. There was a moment of silence filled with panicked looks and interogratting eyes. Finally, Callahan sighed, running a hand over his drenched face. “I don’t get paid enough for this.” He walked away, leaving them alone.

Steve rolled up the window, staring at a basket skidding through the parking lot.

They both busted out in a fit of laughter, she hit his chest. “It’s not funny.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

She looked away from him, shaking her head, pretending not to smile, failing miserably. The corners of her eyes crinkled, and a snort slipped out. She turned to face him. His head was tilted and even though he wasn’t laughing anymore, he was grinning. “What?”

“It’s cute when you do that.” He pointed. “That snort.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She swatted at his finger.

“No, I’m serious. It’s adorable.”

She looked at her hands then back up at him. “Why did you have sex with me?”

His brows creased.

“Sorry, I meant why did you have sex with me sophomore year? I guess what I’m really asking, why did you lie about not being a virgin?” She wasn’t sure what prompted her to ask. The question had been burning in the back of her mind since graduation night. Sitting there, coming down from the buzzing heat flushing her body, trying to refocus her mind from the whirlwind of thoughts, it had just slipped out without another thought.

“I never said I wasn’t a virgin. You just assumed.” He told her.

“Yeah, but you could have corrected me. You could have said you weren’t the right person for the job. I didn’t exactly learn a lot from you because you withheld information.” The end was supposed to be an innocent jab but she could tell it embarrassed him. His cheeks flushed, jaw clenched, looking out his window.

“Well, it seems like you’ve done fine without me.”

She side-eyed him. “Just fine?”

He chuckled, putting a hand against his face, peeking at her through his pointer and middle finger. “Well, no. More than just fine.”

“You were more than just fine too.”

The pair shared a bashful smile.

“You know, I still have your socks that you left at my house that night.” She told him once he began driving her home.

Steve shot her an amused look. “You kept them all these years?”

“A little memento I guess.”

He hummed. “That’s funny.”

“Not creepy?”

“Just a little,” he teased, pointing to the dashboard. “Open the compartment.”

She was hesitant, but listened nevertheless, laughing in disbelief. She picked up a pair of cotton underwear that she immediately recognized as hers. It took her a second to remember about losing the pair on graduation night, thinking it was forever lost in Becky’s bathroom. “You’re sick.”

“It’s a little memento.” He mocked her, laughing when she hit his shoulder playfully.

She smirked, placing the garment back into the compartment and closing it.

“Don’t want them back?” His smug look was attractive, how part of his mouth upturned and his warm eyes twinkled mischievously.

She bit her bottom lip, chewing it lightly. “Thought I could just get it back next time.”

Bemused, Steve chuckled. “Next time?”

“Yeah, you know… if you want there to be a next time?”

She looked at him again, watching the shadows of the night dancing on his face. His hooded eyes lost in thought, soft, trapping the moonlight in the thick, hazy, caramel rings. The rosy bloom on his neck now turned lavender and sweet. His mouth turned into a grin from ear to ear, teeth glimmering, glancing over at her, giving her a look.

Yeah, there was going to be a next time.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagine #blaize writes #stranger things smut #steve fic

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man11c · 2 years

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Xavier x Reader - Maybe a few more lessons. Pt 3.

Plot - During second term, you join Nevermore academy. One of the first things you do is join the archery club, and from there you get to know Xavier Thorpe. At first he seems head over heels for Wednesday, but maybe at some point he'll see something in you? In school, you go through many dilemmas which you need to solve.

Part 3

───♡───

Just as you thought, an assignment. It was only the start of the second week of the second term and alresdy an assignment hit you across the face. You dreaded the thought so you slouched in the seat and hid away from everyone around you. You were in your own world, thinking of other things that had nothing to do with the class. In the background, your teacher was blabbering on about things no one had real interest in.

"Students, for this assignment I've paired you up as this is a shared project. Both parties In the group have to show their effort in this. So I'll call out the names." And there she went, calling out pairs she had made up. Some people were pleased, other not so much. You were still day dreaming, losing yourself in a train of thought until your heard your name being called. "(Y/n)....(y/n)!" The teacher raised her voice to snap you back to reality. You slightly jumped before looked at her and muttered your apologies under your breath. "Now that I have your attention, you'll be paired with Xavier Thorpe for this project." Well that wasn't bad was it. You nodded to the teacher and then looked over at xavier who sat a few seats infront of you. You were slightly startled to see he was already looking at you with that sly grin of his. The two of you exchanged smiles. For the remainder of the class, the teacher further explained on the assignment. Expectations and specific things. That was really all the lesson consisted of today. The end of lesson swung around fast, and you were packing up your things. In your head you were trying to plan out how to approach Xavier about this. You liked to be organised so you tried to plan it all out in these few moments.

Before you could finish thinking, you were interrupted. "(Y/n)!" Xavier called to you. You noticed how Binaca scurried away the moment he got close. She really wasn't a fan of him. Turning your attention to a hazeled eye man, you looked at him as if asking what he wanted. "Will you swing by my dorm after archery...I doubt Bianca wants me in her dorm." The last part Xavier mumbled to himself, avoiding looking at you for a moment. "Its for the project of course." He added trying to make it less awkward for the two of you. "Yeah, that sounds fine. It's good to get a head start on these things." You told him with a calm smile that curved up in your lips. Relived, Xavier ran his hand through his hair. It fell back into place. He had it down today. "Then I'll see you later (y/n)" Xavier spoke to you softly as he began to walk off out of the class. You did the same and said bye to the teacher on your way out. Already you started to think through the project and executing it in your mind even before you got to it. You cleared your mind, that was for later after all.

5:29. You already stood at the archery court, picking out your equipment. Xavier already got used to you showing up early. So he made sure he came bang on time. "Hey you weren't late for once." You spoke to the footsteps approaching you. Xavier scoffed and shook his head. "I'm literally never late. You are just too early." He said dramatically as he alresdy went to grab a bow and a few arrows. "Uhuh." You joked on as you aimed your bow. In the few lessons you've had with Xavier - you definitely improved. You wouldn't tell him that however. "Fix your shoulders." Xavier said sternly as he leaned againts a post and watched over you. Obliging, you fixed your shoulders, ruffing them up before they fell into the right place. "Like this Mr Thorpe?" You mocked him as you rolled your eyes. Catching onto the blatant mocking, Xavier straighted out his back. "Actually... no, push your right shoulder back a bit... and fix your posture. Also your hand should be lower." Well he was petty now. All his criticism followed with a short laugh, which made you laugh in turn slightly. "Right right." You said as you fixed yourself up and tried to please the bossy man next to you. "Now that's a lot better (y/n)." Xavier mused to you. "This arrow is about to go through your skull Xavier." You threatened him, not with seriousness. Not yet at least. Xavier put his arms up in defence and backed up a bit from you. "Sorry sorry." Xavier said.

Focusing for a few moments, you looked at the target and took a deep breath in before letting the arrow go. Again it missed your desired target, but at least it hit. Your arms dropped as you graoned in frustration slightly. Not getting something first try really bothered you. Maybe you were too much for a perfectionist. "You'll get better eventually, especially with my help." Xavier took that moment to boost his ego and give him sly comments. You shot him a peeved joking glare. "I think, I'm failing because of you." Xavier looked slightly offended by that comment and went ahead to pick up his own bow. "Yeah, whatever you want to think. (Y/n)" of couse his cocky ass had to one up you and hit the bullseye perfectly. It only annoyed you more to see how proud and smug he was.

The two of you continued for a longer, a lot of was Xavier really picking at you and making sure you perfected it. And you moaning about it because it bothered you. But atlast it wad wrapped up. Xavier took the gratitude to clean it all up as you stood there watching him. "You know, sure like to boss around." You spoke up to which he replied with a laugh. "Well yeah that's me." He jumped back upto his feet, and he stood taller than you once again. "Okay, now let's head off. Because we have that assignment to discuss." You don't even reply, you just follow behind him to his dorm.

It was what you'd expect an angsty boys dorm to look like. But it seems like he had no dorm mate. "You don't have a dorm mate?" You ask him while you take a quick glance around the room and some of the things inside of it. Xavier went ahead to his desk and sat some of his thing down. "No, not anymore. Something happned with his last semester." Xavier said casually, not seeming to be bothered by the absence. You go ahead and welcom yourself in and walk deeper into the room, shutting the door behind you as you walk in. For a few moments you just stood awkwardly waiting for him to say something. But Xavier was busy grabbing his note pad and a few pens to get the project started. "Oh you can sit down." He motioned to the bed with his head. You just sat down and stayed silent as you waited.

Seeing as he was getting organised, so did you. Laying out your notepad and a pen which you fiddled with in your hand. Twirling it around your fingers. "I already have a few ideas we could go over, I noted them down so I don't forget." You said showing your notes to Xavier. He leaned over and looked at them. Pondering as he did so. His hair falling forward, but he tucking it behind his ears as he continued on reading. He hummed to himself as he thought. "Hmm." Xavier paused before parting his lips to talk again. "I quite like the sound of this one. So let's do something with that?" You nodded and smiled at you.

For the hour or two spent in his room, you two began to map out a few things and establish who did what. He sat next to you on the bed, his legs crossed over with his notepad resting on his knees. You looked at your phone to see the time. Thankfully it wasn't too late so you could stay for longer. Xavier looked at you and tilted his head to the side. "I think we did quite good, do you wanna wrap up here?" To that you nodded, you were tired out now. Standing up from the bed, you starched out and heard a few joints cracking. "I'll go now. Since you have my number...from god knows where. You can text me when you want to do this next." You looked at him raising your brow, still having queries on where he got your phone number. "I'll walk you to your dorm, its dark now." Xavier too stood up and let his stuff just lay on the bed. That was for later. "Do you think I'm defenseless Xavier Thorpe?" You pressed the question onto him as you alresdy made your way to the door, which he followed you shaking his head. "No. But weird shit happens at this school...so I wanna be cautious. Plus your knew." Xavier told you as he peered down at you with his calm gaze. You didn't make a fuss and instead let him walk with you.

The halls were now lit with dim lights that set a nice mood. It was still cold though. They were mainly empty with a few stay students lingering around. Xavier knew excalty where to go, so there was no need to lead him. He walked close to your side, occasionally glancing at you to see if you were looking at him. A soft perky smile on his lips. When you got there, you looked at him and gave him a greatful smile. "Well, thank you for walking me. I'll see you later Xavier." Opening the door to your room, Bianca was inside and she definitely heard you say his name. "Yeah, I'll see you later (y/n). Night." And for a moment he caught the eyes of Bianca who looked displeased. But quickly shutting the door, leaving Xavier to his own. Bianca said nothing... just looked at you with something in her eyes. You should have thought this through better.

You said nothing either, instead you got into your bed and straight onto your phone to see a text from no other but Xavier : Xavier - 'good work today. We'll ace this.' You smile at the nice text and tuck your phone away. Today was another successful day. Now you got to enjoy the rest by sleeping.

───────────────────────

Ending on a slightly bitter note with some Bianca and Xavier beef... but we are all here for it. Also... its like 4am so I'm sorry if there's a shit tone of spelling mistakes

Part 4 out now ❗️

Word count : 1767

#Spotify #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x y/n #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #x reader #fanfic #percy hynes white

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douevenbleachbro · 2 months

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I was excited for Rukia week as I always am, but the brain is dry and shriveled after the IR Big Bang, so this is all I could write for my Queen.

Rukia week 2024 Day 2: ❆ Fashion Brand

Title: By Desing (WIP) Rated T

“You are the spitting image of your sister! Hisana would be proud!”

Rukia gave them a small smile, bowing her head. She was the perfect picture of gratefulness and humility. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her late sister's legacy, after all.

Except it had been Rukia the one that was obsessed with design and fashion and photography. It had been her stealing her mother's magazines and cutting out the beautiful models for her super secret scrapbook. She had been the one to take photography classes and sewing classes and beat out that pretentious Ishida Uryuu for the top spot at Tokyo International School of Design (a rivalry that eventually blossomed into a partnership when she started walking his Fashion Week shows).

But Hisana was the one with the looks. The soft eyes and small lips, long legs, and beatific smile made for the perfect model. It was like the sun chased her. Everyone just naturally wanted to be around her. She hated it though. She hated having her picture taken and being the center of attention in that way. Unfortunately, a few bad financial decisions and subsequent death of their parents at the hands of a drunk driver, left the sisters in ruins and forced them to find jobs wherever they could get them. So Rukia took the pictures whilst Hisana modeled, until an agency got a hold of her and made her into a star. Hisana’s stardom was bright but ephemeral. The president of the agency, Byakuya Kuchiki, fell for her head over heels and gave her his name after less than a year of dating. Their wedding was elegant and grand. Rukia designed Hisana’s dress and cleaned it in silence when Hisana coughed blood onto it. Six months later Hisana died, taking the sun with her.

Whatever veil that covered Rukia seemed to have lifted after Hisana’s passing. Everyone had eyes for her as they desperately tried to get back some of Hisana Kuchiki’s magic. But Rukia had none of that. She was not warm and calm like the ocean waters during the rising sun. She was cold and tempestuous like the water during a full moon. Her eyes were dark and hard, her voice too deep. The designers and photographers would overlook Rukia searching for Hisana where they could, and she allowed it. A part of her still yearned for the childhood dreams of high-fashion and runways, so she took the gigs and walked the shows as Hisana’s little sister. She even took Byakuya’s last name as his sister in his life-long quest to give Hisana everything she ever asked for. Now she walked as Rukia Kuchiki, Hisana’s shadow.

During the height of Fashion Week in Paris, Rukia had once again caught the attention of the fashion world as she walked Uryuu Ishida’s show once more. This time he had brought on a new photographer – an up and coming prodigy named Ichigo Kurosaki. Dark eyes and bright hair, his leather wearing, cigarette smoking bad boy reputation preceded him. He was quick with his camera, capturing the perfect moment in an instant. Apparently he and Uryuu went to school together, which he brought up as he introduced Ichigo to Rukia. She couldn’t help but bristle under his intense stare. His eyes moved with her, following her every step. It would’ve bothered her a lot more if she wasn’t so used to being stared at. Although he didn’t just stare. He observed her. His eyes were on her whenever they were close, making the hairs on her nape stand. He rarely smiled but was never mean or cold. He maneuvered her like priceless marble, like glass. When she modeled for him, he barely even directed her. She would just stand before him and the flashes would go off, his smoky whisky eyes following her. Ichigo’s large hands cupped her chin gently, moving her face slightly from side to side, studying her profile. His fingers moved her hair away from her face, fingertips ghosting the length of her neck. If he wasn’t so close she would’ve gasped, instead she swallowed, trying to keep as steady as possible as Ichigo worked. Finally turning to look directly into her already dilated eyes, Ichigo grinned.

“I’d hate to lose those eyes behind hair.”

Heat blanketed her face, rendering her speechless until he returned to his initial position and continued taking pictures. Rukia took a deep, calming breath and smiled, her voice taking the saccharine note it usually did during these things.

“Of course. I do have my sister's eyes after all.”

“You look nothing like your sister,” Ichigo scoffed, not a note of humor in his tone. Rukia felt the blood rush from her face, leaving her cold and shaking. What did he mean by that? Everyone said she looked like her sister, that’s why she was always getting booked. Did he see something wrong with her? Could he see what others didn’t - that she was indeed not her sister - not as soft, not as bright, not as beautiful. Was that why he looked at her like that? The boning of her dress constricted her lungs, the lights were suddenly too bright. Her breath was coming up ragged and harsh, making her feel lightheaded. A warm hand grabbed onto her elbow, grounding her. Ichigo was in front of her again, this time his eyes filled with concern. He directed everyone to take five and to dim the lights, then guided her away from prying eyes into her dressing room. Once inside, Rukia immediately loosened her dress, allowing air to fill her lungs freely. Ichigo pressed a cold bottle of water into her hand, startling her to his presence. She was very used to getting dressed in the open and in public places, but today modesty decided to show its face. She gathered the front of her dress to her chest.

“Are you okay?” Ichigo asked softly, his voice low. Chugging the water, Rukia nodded, gasping at the feeling of the cool water refreshing her heated body. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there with only the sound of her breathing filling the room. Her head was swimming with thoughts, all negative, about her past and her sister and all the things that could’ve been and weren’t. Hot tears threatened to spill over, but she fought them back, unwilling to allow this man to see her cry. But there he stood, not taking his eyes off of her, apparent worry radiating out of him and not a drip of annoyance or judgment. That alone almost made her break.

After what felt like hours (it had been more like 5 minutes. The crew decided to take their lunch break), Ichigo shifted, moving closer. His hands hovered close, as if they wanted desperately to touch her.

“Rukia,” the sound of her name in his voice gave her goosebumps and brought her out of her thoughts. She took a steading breath.

“I’m sorry I don’t look like her,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Ichigo frowned.

“What a dumb thing to apologize for,” he replied, head tilted. The frown was still there, now accompanied by a small grin. Now Rukia was frowning.

“I don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand? I don’t think you look like your sister, is all. I mean, yeah she was beautiful but you…you’re…”

Weaker? Shorter? Colder?

“Stronger.”

“Huh?” Was all she could muster, too taken aback by his response, “What do you mean?”

Sighing, Ichigo got closer, taking her chin in his hands. Rukia didn’t think her eyes could get any wider as he moved her face slowly from side to side, studying her profile just like earlier.

“Your profile is much stronger. You have rounder cheeks which makes you look more youthful. Your lips are fuller,” his eyes dropped to her lips, which she couldn’t help making into a pout. The look in his eyes was making her nervous, “and your eyes.”

“Everyone says we have the same eyes,” she muttered. Ichigo scoffed.

“Everyone is stupid. Anyone with working eyes can tell they’re very different. I like yours better,” he grinned at her again, making her blush. She blew air out her mouth in frustration.

“Do you always say what’s on your mind?”

“Yes. Do you want to know what I’m thinking right now?” He tilted her head closer, the distance between them shorter. Rukia shook her head.

“Show me.”

Without hesitation, Ichigo closed the gap between them with a searing kiss, leaving her breathless. Her heart had never felt this light and for the first time, she saw herself, her true self, in the eyes of the man who loved her for her and her alone.

#Rukia week 2024 #IchiRuki #I'm gonna prep for IR week #All my fics are IR anyways so...#Which is why I didn't even finish this one #cause it didn't really feel like a fic for Rukia week

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impishtubist · 1 year

Note

miss imp!! can u knock up sirius for older prongsfoot next pls 🥺🥺🥺 obsessed with omegaverse and there’s not nearly enough j/s out there

Me: Oh sure this will be just a quick drabble!

2500 words later............. 😬

So I really didn't mean for this to be a full-fledged fic and it absolutely could have been three times as long, but I had to cut myself off. Rated M for some spice!

----

Sirius finally lifted his head from Headmistress McGonagall’s bin, cast a wandless mouth-cleaning charm on himself, and sat back in his chair with a groan.

“Say nothing,” he murmured.

“I’m afraid I must say something, Professor Black.” She conjured up a glass of water for him. “Drink that.”

Twenty-eight years since he’d last been her student, and still Sirius hopped to immediately. He drained the glass.

“Does Professor Potter know?”

“Yes.”

“What about Harry?”

That had been a fun conversation. Their moody fifteen-year-old had stomped around the house for two days before James, fed up with his attitude, had sent him off to the Burrow. He’d come back in a marginally better mood and his apology had almost been genuine. He was slowly coming around to the idea, but still wasn’t thrilled about the baby.

“Yeah.”

McGonagall nodded. “We’ll set up accommodations for you as the pregnancy progresses, and--”

“Don’t you dare.” Sirius stood. “I don’t need accommodations, I am fine.”

“Professor Black, we need to talk about how we will handle it when you are out on leave--”

“No, we don’t!” Sirius called, banging his way out of her office.

***

Sirius had intended to hide the pregnancy for as long as his teaching robes would allow, but his son couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and it was all over the school by the second day of classes.

“When are you due?” a third-year Hufflepuff asked during their first class.

“April,” Sirius said.

“Before NEWTs, then,” a seventh-year Ravenclaw commented during one of their classes. “Will you be back by exam time?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course he won’t!”

“I promise that you will be prepared for your NEWTs,” Sirius said, before any further bickering could break out.

“Who’s the other father? Is it Professor Potter?” a wide-eyed first-year Slytherin asked.

“Is the other father my husband of twenty-five years?” Sirius asked, bemused. “Yes, of course.”

“Oh, good.”

***

Sirius lay back on the bed, arms at his sides, hands curled into the thin hospital sheet beneath him. He tensed as Madam Pomfrey scanned him with her wand, and James lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Every bloody week,” he muttered. “Nothing’s changed, has it? I’m the same every week, and yet you insist on poking and prodding me--”

“Geriatric pregnancies do carry more risk, Professor Black,” Madam Pomfrey said calmly. “We have to monitor you closely.”

“Uh-oh,” James muttered.

“Geriatric?” Sirius sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Who are you calling geriatric?”

“Well, you are forty-five, Professor,” Madam Pomfrey said, either not noticing or ignoring the note of danger in Sirius’s voice. “Not even middle aged yet as far as wizards go, but biologically, you are at the later end of your child rearing years. We want to keep a close eye on you to make sure you and the baby stay safe and healthy.”

She consulted Sirius’s file, and then said, “Oh! Your birthday was last week. Forty-six, then.”

Grumbling under his breath, Sirius hopped off the bed and swept out of the hospital wing. James gave Madam Pomfrey a helpless look.

“Hormones,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t suppose I could conduct some of these scans myself in our quarters each week and send you the results? It might make him…calmer.”

***

Sirius crept down to the kitchens after midnight one night, and was startled to find his son already down there.

Harry gave him a sheepish look. “Hi, Papa.”

“Harry,” Sirius sighed. “Really?”

“I was hungry! And I used the cloak, don’t worry. No one saw me.”

Sirius knew he should lecture his kid about being out of bed after curfew and sneaking into the kitchens, where students definitely weren’t allowed…but honestly, all he could think about right now were pickles and peanut butter. Preferably pickles dipped in peanut butter.

“You get a pass this time,” he said finally, and Harry beamed. “But only because your baby sibling is giving me the worst cravings and I don’t care about anything else right now. Misty!”

***

James was grading papers in his office when Sirius came barreling into the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and then Sirius was climbing into his lap.

“Sirius, w--what are you doing?”

“Need your knot.” Sirius rocked his hips, and James groaned. “Need your knot, Jamie, please.”

“Okay, sweetheart, okay,” James said, fumbling to get their robes out of the way while Sirius writhed on his lap. He finally grabbed his wand and simply Vanished all their clothes, then shot a locking charm at the office door. Sirius sank down on him in one fluid motion, letting out a small sigh. “Better?”

“Getting there,” Sirius grunted as he lifted himself up, then slammed back down on James’s cock. “But if you don’t fuck me properly in the next thirty seconds--”

James grabbed his hips and swiftly took control, setting a punishing pace that drove the most delicious sounds out of Sirius.

“How about now?” he panted in Sirius’s ear later, his swollen knot buried deep inside his husband. Sirius had collapsed against him, boneless and sated.

“Mm, perfect,” he murmured, sounding drunk. “Wish I could have your knot in me all day, Jamie.”

“We could make that happen,” James said, thinking of the knotting toys buried at the bottom of the trunk in their room. “On weekends, when no one else is going to be around. We can stay in our rooms all day and I’ll knot you as often as I can, and whenever I can’t, we’ll put a knotting plug inside you. How does that sound, love?”

Sirius shivered, and James kissed his sweaty forehead. “Sounds heavenly, Jem. Love being so full…”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” James stroked a hand down Sirius’s spine. “I know.”

***

Sirius was showing by the holidays, despite his billowing teacher’s robes, and he was more miserable than ever. His feet and ankles were swollen, he was still getting morning sickness, and he hated feeling like a goddamn whale. His cravings were ridiculous, and he couldn’t even sleep on his back anymore.

“Was it this bad with Harry?” he mumbled one night while James rubbed his feet.

“No, love,” James said. “You hated it, sure, but that was fifteen years ago and your body handled it better.”

Sirius, who was eating grapes drenched in hot sauce, chucked one at James’s head. James caught it, ate it, and then took the bowl out of Sirius’s hands so he could lean over and kiss him.

“Sirius,” he said gently, “it’s okay to acknowledge that we’re older, and this is harder because of it. We didn’t plan on having another kid in our mid-forties! It’s different now, but it’s going to be okay.”

“I’m going to be fifty-seven when they start Hogwarts,” Sirius mumbled. “That’s ancient.”

“It isn’t,” James said. “Ancient is Nicolas Flamel. You’re as handsome now as the day we married.”

Sirius snorted. “Sure. I was a beached whale on our wedding day.”

“You were beautiful on our wedding day, but you’re even more gorgeous to me right now, like this.” James kissed him again, deeper this time, leaving him aching and breathless. “How about I show you?”

***

In March, there was a knock on Sirius’s office door, and he glowered at the man who stepped inside.

“So you’re my replacement.”

Remus held up his hands. “I’m not replacing you, I’m just here to assist with your classes.”

“I don’t need an assistant.”

“Sirius, you can’t control your magic.”

“I’m not five.”

“No, you’re pregnant,” Remus said patiently. “Your magic did this with Harry, too. You sent two students to the hospital wing yesterday! You need help with your lessons, and Headmistress McGonagall--”

“I don’t need your help.”

The teacup on his desk shattered, spilling cold tea all over the essays he hadn’t graded yet. Remus gave him an unimpressed look.

“Yes, because you’re doing so well on your own.”

“Get out, Remus!”

“No,” Remus said. “Sirius, I know you hate being pregnant. You hated it with Harry, and it must be so much harder now, given--”

“If you say given my age, they’re never going to find your body, Lupin.”

“Given that Harry was planned and this one wasn’t,” Remus said quickly.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him but lowered his wand.

“I’m still leading all my classes,” he said.

“Of course,” Remus said. “I’m just here to demonstrate the actual spells, and I’ll be covering for you when you go on leave--”

The desk next to him caught fire, and he jumped out of the way.

“Er, right,” Remus said. “My mistake, you’re not going on leave at all. You’ll return to teaching immediately after giving birth, and carry the little one around in a sling while you do so. Happy?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him.

“Better,” he said finally. He grabbed a thick binder off his desk and shoved it at Remus. “My lesson plans and class timetables for the month. Study them.”

“Yes, Professor.”

***

Sirius found Harry in his office one Saturday afternoon, curled up in a chair by his desk and looking miserable.

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

“I presented,” Harry blurted, and Sirius stared at him.

“What? When?”

“Last August,” Harry said miserably, and Sirius’s jaw dropped. How could Harry have been able to hide this from him? From all of them?

“Harry--”

“I’m an alpha!” Harry burst out, looking on the verge of tears. “And…and so is Cedric, so it’s never gonna work.”

“Oh, Hazza.” Sirius opened his arms. “Come here.”

Harry dove into his arms, and Sirius held him close.

“You know that’s not true. Plenty of alphas fall in love and make it work.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“What, did you think that Moony and Kingsley share a flat because they don’t have enough money to live on their own? Kingsley is the Minister.”

“...Oh.” Harry lifted his head from Sirius’s shoulder. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Because you’re as oblivious as your dad,” Sirius said fondly. “How did you hide this from us? Wait, does Dad know?”

“No,” Harry said, fidgeting. “I, uh. Got some suppressants from some seventh years.”

“Well, that is stopping immediately,” Sirius said firmly. “Merlin knows what’s in those suppressants or where they came from, and it’s not healthy to suppress your biology continuously like that.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, alright.”

“It’s going to be okay, Hazza.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “Cedric isn’t going anywhere, I promise.”

***

James lay with his head resting on the swell of Sirius’s stomach while their little one kicked under his cheek. Sirius ran his fingers through James’s hair.

“They’re going to be a Beater,” he said confidently. Sirius snorted.

“They might not like Quidditch at all, love.”

James lifted his head and gave Sirius an affronted look. “Hold your tongue!”

He settled back down again. The baby was restless tonight--they always were after dinner--and James started to sing quietly. Soon, the baby calmed down, and stopped using Sirius’s insides as a punching bag. Sirius huffed.

“That never worked for Harry.”

“I know,” James said fondly. “He kicked ‘round the clock. Thought he was going to kick his way out of you.”

“Yeah,” Sirius whispered, and then suddenly James’s hands were on his cheeks, brushing away the tears.

“Hey,” James whispered, “what’s wrong?”

“I miss it,” Sirius croaked. He rubbed a hand over his belly. “I hated it, yeah, but I miss it, too. I miss having him right here, where I could protect him. I miss him kicking me, I miss you telling my stomach ridiculous stories, I miss having him close. I miss feeling him inside me, and carrying him everywhere. And soon the baby will be here, and I’m going to miss them, too.”

“Shh.” James crawled up the bed and wrapped Sirius in his arms, kissing the bridge of his nose. “Our kids aren’t going anywhere, okay? Sure, they’re going to grow up and have their own homes and families but they will always, always be in our lives. And we’re going to protect them, if they’re five or fifty.”

“I know,” Sirius said softly, his hands cradling his belly. “But I’m never going to have this again, and I’m--I’m sad about it.”

James held him close, Sirius’s stomach pressed between them. “It’s okay to feel sad about it, love.”

***

Remus was demonstrating the shattering curse for the Ravenclaw sixth years while Sirius leaned against his desk, trying to find a comfortable position that took some of the pressure off his aching back and feet.

“Expulso!” Remus cried, and the chair he had been using as a target exploded.

Sirius’s water broke.

***

Everything that happened after that was a blur. Remus dismissed the class and then sent a Patronus to James, who helped Remus get Sirius to the hospital wing. White-hot, relentless pain consumed him for hours, despite the potions Madam Pomfrey gave him. He paced the hospital wing with James hovering at his side, did his breathing exercises, perched on an inflatable ball, was finally guided to a bed where he pushed and pushed and pushed, and then--

And then there she was. Tiny, pink, crying, and perfect.

Sirius held her on his bare chest while James cut the cord and Madam Pomfrey cleaned them both up. At some point, she was taken away to be measured, weighed, and swaddled, and eventually she was tucked into a bassinet next to his bed.

He fell asleep.

When he woke up, James was feeding the baby. He cradled her close, his eyes fixed on her tiny face while she drank a bottle. Pure adoration emanated from him. He finished feeding her, burped her, and then settled her back in his arms.

“Hi, princess,” he whispered. “We’ve got to get you a proper name, but your papa passed out before we could decide on one, so you’re just Princess for now. You were a bit of a surprise, you know, but we love you so much. We’re so excited to be your dads. And you’ve got a big brother, Harry, who will be by to meet you soon. And your godfathers are a werewolf and the Minister of Magic, so I think you’ll be okay.”

He kissed her gently on the forehead, and then her rosy cheeks, and then her tiny nose. Once she fell asleep, he set her carefully in the bassinet.

“Adhara,” Sirius whispered, and James jumped.

“I didn’t realize you were awake.” James brushed the hair off his forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got trampled by a Thestral. Adhara.”

“That’s a pretty name.” James nodded. “I like it. Adhara Potter-Black has a nice ring to it.”

“Harry?”

“In his common room, probably. You went into labor sixteen hours ago, but I wanted to wait to tell him until you were ready.”

“In the morning.” Sirius worked an arm out from under the pile of blankets and held it out to James. “Come here.”

James crawled carefully into the bed and curled around Sirius.

“I love you,” he whispered, nuzzling Sirius’s cheek, the comforting alpha scent of him easing some of Sirius’s pain.

“Love you, too, Jamie.” Sirius sank into the warmth of his husband’s arms, and gazed at his baby girl until he fell asleep.

#prongsfoot #sirius black #james potter #imp is writing #ugh this is so rough sorry!!!!#i just needed it out of my head so i could move on to write cursed sirius/bellatrix #cw pregnancy #omegaverse #also don't worry harry absolutely falls in love with the baby #he's just being grumpy like his papa

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