#I’m going out of town next week and I’m gonna miss them so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonsgemini · 6 months

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you’re on your own kid

summary: rafe cameron has loved his best friend through every season, but through the seasons of their senior year things start to get complicated.

warning: she/her, smoking, alcohol, angst, fluff, kissing, cheating ???, drugs, mutual pining, (let me know if I missed any)

wc: 4.7k

an: HIII! I’m really excited for these taylor swift fics bc her songs give me so many ideas. This took a while for me to finish & idk if I like the ending or honestly if I like it at all. I promise seeking arrangements is next on my list to post <3 Hope you guys enjoy !!!

rafe's version masterlist - masterlist

I wait patiently

he’s gonna notice me

it’s okay we’re the best of friends

summer

Of course when he walks in the party instantly feels like an actual party. It hadn’t been much of a party to her especially not with him around. These things got boring fast if he wasn’t by her side making her laugh and talking about anything and everything. Not having to worry about sleazy guys coming up to her or putting something in her drink because he always by her side. Always looking out.

Everybody loves him anyways. The way he carried himself charmed everyone, made them always want to have his attention. Sunglasses perched on his nose, even though it’s eleven at night, that big smile on his face. He’s bobbing his head to the music and greeting everyone, she can tell he’s in a good mood tonight. It puts her in a good mood, her fingers itching to greet him already.

When he finally reaches where she’s standing with a few of her friends he smiles even wider at her. Greeting everyone but always just looking at her. Moving to push his glasses up onto his head. She couldn’t help the smile that tuged at her lips as he side hugs her friends knowing that’s not what she’s going to get.

And she’s right, once he gets to her it’s all outstretched arms and gentle rocking as he hugs her tightly. She’s been away at her grandparents house in florida for the last week of summer. They had missed each other. Face times and text messages just didn’t feel like enough.

“You’re finally back,” He said once they pulled away.

She rolled her eyes playfully a teasing smile on her lips, “Were you counting down the days Cameron?”

He shrugged, “Maybe, I know you were.” That grin never leaving his lips.

“Now come on,” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders beginning to lead her to the kitchen of whoever’s house this was, “I need a drink and you need to tell me about Florida.”

“I already told you everything every day Rafe. Just sat out by the pool or on the beach,” She motioned towards her body, “got some new clothes.”

He raised his eyebrows eyeing her body, “Some very tiny clothes,” His eyes took in her mini skirt and tank top all the exposed skin doing something to him, “Any guys out there?” He didn’t look at her as he asked. Instead he grabbed a beer out of the fridge, cracking it open with his back to her.

She scoffed, “Florida boys? No thanks.”

He turned around smirking, “So just North Carolina boys for you?”

There was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. Every now and then he’d give it to her and her mind would spiral on what he could be thinking. She always hoped it was the same thing she was, “Mhmm only North Carolina boys.”

I hear it in your voice

You're smoking with your boys

I touch my phone as if it's your face

I didn't choose this town

I dream of getting out

There's just one who could make me stay

fall

Everything had felt boring lately. After the summer and after the start of senior year she felt like the parties in outer banks were a waste of time. It was always the same people doing the same things. Kids too young to know what’s good for them and too young to care about the consequences of their actions. Not a care in the world knowing mommy or daddy would get you out of whatever stupid decision you made.

She’d spent most of her high school career pretending to like parties and drinking. Even tried coke once but it made her feel like her brain was rotting so never again. When in reality she’d rather be home smoking on her balcony reading a good book or hanging out with her close friends around a bonfire. It was exhausting always having to put up a front that she was this social party girl.

It took her a long time to come to the realization that she didn’t have to be what people thought of her. On figure eight it felt like everyone knew your business and everyone thought they knew you. They start seeing you at parties talking to Rafe Cameron and all of a sudden you’re some party girl with a drug problem. Once people found out Rafe quit doing coke and dealing she just became the party girl. Kook prince and kook princess always stuck to each others sides, of course she was going go gain a reputation.

Once she realized that people are going to talk regardless what she did so she stopped caring. Started staying home more. Rafe kind of hated it. Because she wasn’t there anymore. But he made it work with their busy senior schedules. Always saying he can make time for his best friend. That’s what she was. His best friend.

best friend.

Even saying it in her head made her cringe. If only he knew that she wanted something more so badly. At first she didn’t even see him that way, he truly was a great friend. He listened to all her rants about music, school, books. Rafe paid attention, he was soft with her. She didn’t understand why people always said bad things about him because he never showed those sides to her.

She sighed thinking about him, sitting on her balcony. The thought of him was brought on by everyone’s instagram stories of the party currently happening. She had opted for one of those smoke on the balcony with a good show or book nights.

As she scrolled through her phone more it began to vibrate. Rafe’s contact popping up on the top of the screen. A warm feeling spread through her stomach, maybe it was just because of the weed. She pressed the green button and brought the phone up to her ear. Admiring the little picture of him first, it was one she took right before she had left for florida. He was holding up their friends dog with a big smile on his face.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” A raspy voice said on the other line. Immediately she knew he had been smoking as well, probably with all the guys outside. He could even still be passing the joint around. He could also be smoking a cigarette outside after he’s gotten a buzz, it was his favorite thing to do after a few beers.

She put the laptop that was resting on her to the side, bringing her knees up to her chest. Leaning her head to the side on her knees she smiled softly, “Hi Rafe, you rang?”

He can hear her smile. Rafe knows her like the back of his hand.

“I did, what are you up to?” He knows exactly what she’s doing tonight even though she didn’t even tell him.

The wide grin on her lips dulling slightly, “Uh just looking at some schools in california, also watching new girl.”

“Still wanna leave this place huh?”

She let out a breathy laugh picking at the thread on her bench, “You know me too well.”

“Of course I do. I’m coming over,” She could hear him walking on gravel.

“My parents are asleep Rafe,” It was almost one in the morning and her parents had some golf charity event early in the morning.

He laughed amused, “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean you have to climb up to my room on the second floor or stay at that party,” Her tone was stern not wanting him to get her in trouble but also praying he’ll come and not wake them.

“Hey I gotta convince you to stay close to me after high school so you brought this on yourself,” He was walking to her house. She didn’t live too far from where this party was and he didn’t want to drive after smoking and drinking. At his words her hand tightened around her phone closing her eyes for a second imagining he was there saying that to her but in a different context.

Rafe didn’t have to do anything to convince her. He was the only one who kept her here. It was why she was still mulling over the idea of leaving the outer banks.

“You better at least be bringing a joint for us,” She sighed feeling giddy about him coming over. He always made her feel like a school girl with a big crush on the cutest boy in school.

“Already had one with your name on it babe,” He always threw that word around like it meant nothing. It meant everything to her.

They bid their goodbyes as Rafe was a few houses away. Less than ten minutes later she heard rustling under her. Rafe was climbing the tree by her room. He stepped onto the ledge before getting hoping down.

“Rafe,” She shushed him harshly hoping her dad didn’t hear. His heavy feet landing with a thud.

He looked at her with a smirk, “oops.” He shrugged not really caring if he was loud. Grabbing her legs that were laid out on the bench and sat down placing them on top. One hand on her shin and the other right above her knee.

He leaned his head back looking at her. That contagious grin on his face his eyes hooded and a bit red from his night out, “So ms. I wanna run away. What’s this thing you’re trying to escape,”

She sighed leaning back, “Dunno. I guess everything. I want to start somewhere new, it’s hard when people think they know everything about you.”

He let out a short laugh, “Yeah tell me about it. Maybe we should escape together, I think you’re the only person who doesn’t see a douche bag when they look at me.”

Her heart burst. If they were in a cartoon there’d be hearts swirling around her head and violins playing.

She shook her head smiling, “No one sees you as a douche bag,” She smirked, “anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter because the family company will be mine after college and people will see that I’m more than just a pretty face with a bad attitude,” He smirked.

“You are a pretty face with a bad attitude,” She agreed before holding her hand out, “Also you have something for me no?”

He patted her legs, “How could I ever think you forgot.”

They smoked and talked all night. She put on a movie on her laptop but it was more of background noise. At almost four in the morning she started to drift off to sleep and soon she was asleep on Rafe’s lap. She just felt so comfortable and warm with his hand rubbing circles on her shoulder.

He carried her to her bed and tucked her in because he knew she got cold easily. He sat next to her on the bed and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. A small smile on his face, these were the nights he cherished with her. When the world felt so quiet that it seemed like they were the only people existing. No interruptions from their friends or their parents.

Just him and his girl.

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

winter

She pushed through the crowd of people while scanning the room for the 6’2 man she was meeting. It was the first party she had come to since summer and she was only there because he had begged her to come. It was a christmas sweater party so she had on a red sweater with kittens playing with presents. She had gotten it with Rafe a week ago at a vintage store, it was the whole reason he even brought up this party. Telling her it’d be the perfect place to wear it to.

Spotting her friend Emma she went up to her, “Hey have you seen Rafe? he hasn’t been answering me.”

“I swear I saw him going to the bathroom like a few minutes ago,” She pointed towards the hallway.

“Thanks,” She waved and walked towards the hall.

It was much quieter in this part of the house. She’d never been here before so she didn’t know where the bathroom was. There was a door on her right and left and one straight ahead. She decided to check them all. She opened the door on the left and it was just a closet with towels. The door on her right was the bathroom. She was confused because wasn’t he supposed to be there.

She turned towards the last door and saw some light coming from under. She had a gut feeling this wasn’t going to be good. Slowly she walked towards the door and opened it just like ripping a band aid off and

ouch.

Rafe on top of Taylor Thompson. His hand under her sweater and his lips on her. Taylor’s hands in his hair. At the sound of the door opening Rafe turned around and the girl under him sat up to look.

“Shit,” He muttered feeling his heart sink.

She stood there in complete shock for a second before speaking, “Sorry to interrupt.” She slammed the door closed. Holding back her tears until she was in her car alone. Her feet knowing where to take her as her mind was elsewhere. Why would he do that? The last few months had felt different to her. It felt like there was a possibility of something more.

It felt like he literally ripped her heart out and shoved out down Taylor Thompson’s throat. That blonde bi-

“Y/n! Wait!” Rafe called as he chased after her.

She ignored him not really wanting to see him until she got her emotions in order. Now it was clear he wanted nothing to do with her and never cared about her, at least not in the say way. She didn’t want him to see her cry over him, it felt pathetic. They were outside now she had finally reached her car. Clicking the buttons to unlock it furiously.

“Stop!” Rafe said as he jogged to push her car door closed before she opened it all the way.

“What!” She yelled turning around to him. A look of anger in her eyes.

He took a step back seeing how upset she actually was, “I-It’s not what it looks like.”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care Rafe.” Crossing her arms defensively.

He furrowed his brows, “Then why are you leaving?”

“Because I can.”

“Y/n-“

“Rafe! I don’t want to third wheel all night so go fuck Taylor Thompson like you want, I don’t give a shit.” She seethed, tears pricking at her eyes.

He shook his head, “I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Then why were you kissing her?”

“I thought you didn’t care,” Now he was getting mad for some reason.

“Fuck you Rafe.”

He laughed bitterly, “Tell me why it bothered you so much.”

She scoffed confused, “What?”

“Why did me kissing her bother you?”

“Because it didn’t bother you. You just didn’t care,”

“About what?” He took a step closer. He was trying to get her to say it. To say that she cared because she liked him.

He knows he fucked up but after her reaction he realized that he had convinced himself she didn’t care when she did. Then he may have taken a few shots and gone into the guest room to breathe and call her. But then Taylor Thompson came in right when the tequila was kicking in and things got blurry. She was on him and he didn’t stop it and she tugged him on the bed and he just couldn’t move or stop. He also couldn’t stop thinking about y/n as it was all happening, wishing it was her.

“About me,” She sighed looking down voice so small.

“I care about you.”

She looked up at him with a frown. She sighed frustrated being able to hold her tears anymore as a few slipped down her cheeks, “No you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t have kissed her.”

She turned around quickly opening her car door and getting in. Rafe got what he wanted, to hear her say it. But maybe he fucked up so bad he can’t fix it. He steps back as her car starts and watches her drive away.

She can barely see between her tears as she drives home. She felt dumb. She felt like he was using her to make his ego bigger. Why did he have to ruin it? The one person who kept her tied to where she is had betrayed her the most. She knew he didn’t owe her any loyalty but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

I picked the petals, he loves me not

Something different bloomed

Writing in my room

spring

Three and a half months.

It’d been three and a half months of Rafe and her not talking.

After she left the party she promised herself she would never speak to him again. He hurt her and she couldn’t believe she’d let it happen. Feeling dumb for feeling the way she does towards him. How could she have let herself fall for him so much?

He had called and texted her relentlessly at first. Even tried to go up to her in school but she’d quickly turn and walk away from him. After a month of trying to get her to talk to him he gave up. He fucked it up more than he thought. Rafe gave her the space she wanted but he’d always be there in the background if she needs him.

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t take him always looking at her with those eyes. Couldn’t take all the time she was spending alone. She thought she liked being alone and spending time alone but she also liked all the time she spent with him. He made her feel so care free and light. The anxiety that was constantly bubbling in her stomach would diminish around him because she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she’s not.

But enough was enough.

Ever since middle school she had kept a diary. A few stacks of books tucked away in the back of her closet hid her deepest feelings and every detail about her life. The current one she had been filling was almost full and the last quarter of the notebook was all Rafe. Well to be honest he was in all of them, and not in a weird way. He was just always there, they were always together.

But now that they didn’t spend time together her pages consisted of rants of her boring school days and writing different scenarios she had wished happened that night instead of what did. She had ranted about how he made her feel and how she felt seeing him on some other girl. A girl that wasn’t her. It should have been her.

After everything they had done together how could he not see her in the way she sees him? Maybe he did live up to his cold hearted reputation. Even though he had never done anything wrong before. She actually can’t remember the last time she saw him hook up with anyone. Not since the beginning of junior year and back then he was fully in his coke addiction. She remembers that night like it was yesterday.

They had become friends around that time the year before. Summer before sophomore year they met at midsummers when she caught him and his friends in the storage closet drinking from a bottle of vodka. Y/n told them she wouldn’t say anything if they let her have some. Rafe immediately liked her, she knew what she wanted and she got it.

Now it was a year later and he can feel her eyes on him as he kissed some rich touron. He was high out of his mind and he just wanted to make y/n jealous. But it didn’t work, the look he had caught from her as he trailed behind the redhead he just met was one more of disappointment. He felt his heart clench at the feeling. After that night he decided to get clean and stop the hard drugs because he hated that look.

She couldn’t take it anymore, keeping all of her feelings on sheets of paper. She needed to find him and yell at or just do something. He has confused her for years now and she was sick of it. Especially now that Rafe and her were closer than ever. All her pent of feelings seeped through as she sighed exasperatedly, putting her pen that had been furiously writing down. Slamming it on the desk as she harshly pushed herself up from her desk.

With anger she had stormed out of the house and driven to his. Her sneakers stomping on the ground as she marched towards him. Every one of their memories together flashing through her head.

She had spotted him on the dock and was b lining towards him. Rafe’s head turned as he heard her stomping towards him. His stomach flipped when his eyes landed on y/n, he had really missed seeing her around. Especially at his house. He propped his sunglasses up on his head and hopped back onto the dock. He had been getting the boat ready for a solo boat day to clear his head.

“Y/n?” He asked in disbelief.

“You!” She pointed at him and stopping once her finger was poking his chest, “Why are you the way you are!” Her finger jabbing into his chest with every word.

He watched as her chest rose and fell quickly. He had never really seen her mad before, something he always admired. But now seeing her with furrowed brows and steam practically coming out of her ears, he kind of liked it. Rafe knows he shouldn’t be thinking about how cute she looks and instead be getting on his knees begging for forgiveness.

He had really missed seeing her up close. Missed how dark her lashes were and how glossy her plump lips always were. He counted all her freckles to make sure she didn’t get any new ones while they were away from each other. Her hair was in a style he hadn’t seen on her before.

“Well hi to you too,” He smirked. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help use the charm he knew she loved.

She placed her palms on his chest and shoved him, barely making him move. Y/n began ranting, “For the last fucking four years you have been my best friend and you’ve been so confusing! Everything was fine at first but-but then you were always there for me whenever. And you always fucking listened to me. And you’re so funny. I started to feel different and then I saw you at that fucking party,” She glared at him, the image of him on that girl making her nauseous, “And then you changed. You don’t hook up with anyone and you don’t leave my side at parties,” she laughed sarcastically, “You even fucking call me babe sometimes. So I though oh maybe he feels different too then again I saw you on some fucking girl. And you chase after me so Rafe what the fuck do you want from me? Has this all just been bullshit to you? Am I just some fucking girl you get to flirt with to get your weird little fix until you find someone you actually want to be with?”

He rolled his eyes almost offended, “You know you’re not just some girl.”

She scoffed with wide eyes, “That’s all you took away from that. What else am I supposed to think? You make me feel special for years and I just wait and wait. Then when I think things are finally happening you go and kiss some girl.”

“Y/n-“

“Who fucking knows what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in.”

“Can I-“

“I know you would have fucked her and then came home to me to talk about your problems like I’m some wife in the 50s.”

“You-“

“You kill me Rafe.”

“Stop!” He practically shouted as he placed his hands on her shoulders. She closed her mouth and stared at him intensely.

“I was afraid you didn’t feel the same so I kept my feelings down. I’ve liked you since the moment I met you. But I was fucked up then so I didn’t act like it until I saw how much I hurt you. I changed for you and-and then I just got scared. You are someone so beyond me, you are like the nicest smartest most beautiful person. Why the fuck would you want me?” He laughed like it was obvious, “And we’re such good friends it was terrifying to think about how if I fucked it up I wouldn’t have you at all. No one’s ever actually tried to get to know me the way you have. And then I did fuck it up again,” he sighed scratching the back of his neck, “I shouldn’t have let her kiss me that night. I should have found you and told you what I’ve been feeling since I met you. That I love you so much it actually hurts. And it’s hurt me knowing I made you upset.”

“Rafe,” She sighed as her eyes softened. This was not going at all how she expected things to go.

“I get I fucked it up, so if you still never want to see me again that’s fine. But please give me a chance,” He was actually contemplating getting on his knees to beg.

“You’re such a big dumby. You’ve always had a chance. You mean so much to me. Rafe the only reason I haven’t applied to out of state schools is because I want to be with you. Even if it was just as friends,” She sighed feeling like a weight had been lifter off of her shoulders. A part of her still wanted to punch him.

He took a step closer lifting his hand and softly brushing his fingers across her cheek as he cupped her face, “Will you please go out with me? Because I am so in love with you.”

She leaned up towards him. Their noses now brushing, “I love you,”

He smiled as he pulled her towards him, their lips meeting. The kiss felt like every taylor swift love song playing at once. All the yearning felt worth it in that moments. Their lips moved against each other languidly, like they’ve always been doing this. Rafe’s hands moved to her waist, gripping in all the right places.

Y/n’s hand ran through his hair tugging when his hands reached lower giving her butt a squeeze.Rafe melted at her soft sighs and quiet moans as he trailed kisses down to her neck. Kissing behind her ear. He kissed her cheek as he faced her again. Her hazy eyes and swollen lips made his blood flow to a certain lower part of his body.

“Rafe, this doesn’t mean I’m not still kinda mad at you. You have a lot of making up to do,” She smiled innocently at him.

“Baby I’ll give you whatever you want. In fact, let’s go shopping now for our date tonight,” He kissed her one more time before moving to hold her hand dragging her towards his car.

She laughed as she trailed behind him knowing that one shopping trip wasn’t going to make it better. He owed her big time.

“It also doesn’t mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend because you haven’t asked me,” She smiled smugly at him as he opened the door to his truck for her.

“I guess I have my work cut out for me then,” He said leaning against the frame of door once she had sat down.

“you do.”

He leaned up and kissed her softly, “Anything for you baby.”

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thetriumphantpanda · 6 months

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it's new, the shape of your body | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Five

Chapter Summary | A dead end following a lead at work leaves you tense, with Javi only too happy to help you destress.

Chapter Warnings | Mention of drugs, drug related violence and the drugs trade. Zero knowledge of how journalists find information in the 90s but we ride with it. Explicit smut, these two do some stuff in public that the lord wouldn't approve, fingering, Javi is a dirty talking menace.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.5K

Authors Note | So, as well as being a sexy little dbf!Javi fic, this also has another overarching plot that I'm starting to introduce in this chapter - I really hope you like the addition of this other part of the story, as well as these two finally getting it on! Another huge shoutout to @undercoverpena who has been such a rock with this chapter, helping me smooth out the kinks to get it to where I wanted it to be. Thank you for the support so far. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

There’s a spring in your step when you walk into work on Monday. You’d spent all of Sunday is some sort of daze, thinking about what had happened with Javi and all the things that he’d promised you over the phone. You let your hand wander a little on Sunday night, bringing yourself off to his promise of showing you exactly what you’d been missing, so much so that the lack of sleep from keeping yourself awake didn’t bother you as you sat down at your desk, taking out your notes to start working on the piece for the newspaper about the drugs bust in town last week.

“You seem more chipper this morning,” Your boss muses, setting down a mug of coffee next to you like she always does each morning, “You sleeping better?”

The answer is no, not really, just that you’re awake for a far better reason that pining for your dad’s buddy, now you’re awake because he wants you just as much as you want him and those daydreams and the visions that come to you in your dreams are far nicer to deal with than the wondering of if you were going to make a fool out of yourself in front of him.

“Yeah, much better, thanks,” You smile, picking up the mug to take a sip, “I’m gonna start working on the bust story today, hopefully it’ll be ready by the end of the day.”

She places a hand on your shoulder and gives you a squeeze, “Nice work,” She smiles back at you, “Your stories have been really well received recently.”

She leaves you to it, letting you open your notebook, you rip the old pages out, lie them out on the desk in front of you, picking up a pen, putting it to the fresh page to start formulating the bare bones of the story.

It’s easy to start with the facts.

1. There’s a house in town had been involved in a police raid.

2. A large amount of both cocaine and marijuana had been seized.

3. The house had been empty.

4. The police had spoken to the neighbours.

You circle the last point on your notepad: no-one could figure out who would be responsible for storing that amount of drugs at the address. Staring at it, seeing it in a new order, your brain begins to think, wondering about how you might be able to dig deeper.

Something, the instinct that made all of this possible, tells you to start with who owns the house. Fingers typing, suddenly remembering that you’d overheard your dad talking with your mom a few days ago about how they’d tried that avenue and come up at a loss down at the station, but not why.

Opening the webpage for the public records for the county, your fingers drill in the address, clicking on the search result that pops up. Leaning forward in your chair, chin propped on your palm, you scan the information in front of you. There’s a list of everyone who had ever owned the address since it was built, starting from the first all the way down to the last, which is where you realise what the dead end is. The last owner was dead. Had been for almost a year, and the property was waiting to go up for sale again, which meant whoever had been storing the drugs in the house was squatting.

You let out a frustrated sigh, because if the police can’t figure it out from here then what makes you think you can. Except, when you sit there, tapping your fingers against the desk in frustration and realise you’d been there. You’d been in that house a few months ago with Liv, who had dragged you to some kind of party.

Almost automatically you’re reaching for the phone and dialing the number you’ve got memorized for her. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, this is Laredo insurance, you’re speaking to Liv, how can I help?”

You bite back a giggle at her customer service voice, it’s so unlike the girl you really know, “Hello bestie,” You greet, which has her gasping down the phone.

“Oh my god have I forgotten a lunch date?” She asks.

“No, it’s okay, don’t panic,” You say, “It’s a really random question, but you know that party we went to a few months ago, do you know who hosted it?”

You can hear her clicking her tongue in the background as she thinks, “I can’t even remember who invited us,” She sighs, as do you, “I think I just heard about it from someone, who’d heard about it from someone else.”

“God damn it.” You mumble, head in your hand.

“Is it important?”

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly, “It was the place that got busted last week, and I’m just trying to do some digging, but it’s okay, I’m sure if it’s meant to be I’ll figure it out.”

“I have every faith in you,” You can tell she’s smiling on the other end, “Listen, I gotta bounce, but how about we do drinks later on this week?”

“Sounds good, phone me later and we can sort it out.”

“Alright, bye bestie!”

You laugh and wish her a goodbye, deciding you’ve gone as far as you can with this for today. You save what you have of the story, thinking you could send it to your boss for approval as is, but deep down you know there’s something here you can pull on, something bigger than just busting a house full of drugs and taking them off the streets to be dealt, so you keep it to yourself for the rest of the day.

“I’m heading out,” Your boss speaks as she walks past your desk on the way out, “Did you get the story finished?”

A smile thrown her way in response, trying to cover the fact that you want more time, “Almost,” You speak, “Just a few more tweaks and a couple of things I want to check, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.”

She nods, seemingly pleased that you’re wanting to make it as perfect as possible, “No rush, we can hold it for a few days until you’re happy with it.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Well, you have yourself a good evening and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wish her the same, watching as she heads out, leaving you in the office alone. You sigh, annoyed that there’s nothing further you can really do. You save the document, gathering your things and deciding you can worry about what to do next tomorrow.

When you emerge from the front door of the office and look across the parking lot to your car, you’re taken aback to find Javier’s truck parked in the space right next to it. He’s leaning against the driver’s side of the truck, casual as anything, with his ankles crossed over each other and his arms crossed over his chest. He notices you stood still, motions you with his head to come over.

Your feet carry you across the parking lot, shoulders heavy with stress and that niggling feeling that you’ve been missing something all day, the one thing that’s going to make you realise what’s going on, but seeing Javi slip his aviators off his face and tuck them into his shirt, shooting a smile your way, you feel a little better.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, in that cool, casual way that he always does, “Wanted to see you,” He reaches out, taking your hand in his to pull you closer, but does so whilst looking around, making sure no-one either of you know can see you, “Wanted to do this.”

Then he leans down, presses his lips to yours, one hand cradling your cheek. It’s different to the kiss at the ranch, it’s not rushed. He keeps his lips pressed against your own for a while, pulling away, but planting one right on your forehead as he leans back against the car.

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth, smiling a little as you feel the temperature rise across your face, “How did you know what time I finished?”

“Lucky guess,” He shrugs, “Thought if you didn’t come out within an hour I’d have just gone home, tried again tomorrow.”

“You would have waited for me for an hour?” You chuckle, leaning against your own car behind you.

“Yeah,” He nods with a smile, “Would wait a lot longer but you know how it is, things to do.”

You settle your back against the passenger side of your car, rubbing a hand up one of your arms, “You seem tense,” Javi observes, “What’s up?”

You consider telling him the whole story, but there’s something niggling in the back of your mind that this is something you should keep to yourself for a while, just until you can try digging for more information first. If you keep drawing up blanks then you can ask him, see if his expertise can offer any ideas, but for now, you keep it vague.

“It’s just work,” You shrug, “Deadlines and stuff, but I’ll be okay.”

You watch him look at you, those beautiful brown eyes looking directly into your own, his mouth pulled into a smirk, “You wanna take a drive?” He asks, head tilting to his truck, “Let me help with some of that stress.”

That familiar pool of arousal is settling in your tummy, excitement thrumming through your veins at what he means. He wants to touch you, and God do you want to touch him right back. But it’s getting late, and you know you’re parents are going to wonder where you are soon enough. There’s not enough time to go driving around, but you think there’s just enough time for something else.

You grin back at him, reaching to grasp his wrist in your hand, somewhat aware of how big he is when you can’t fit your fingers all the way round it. You drag him back across the parking lot, and down the side of the your office building. It’s a small alley, definitely not the most romantic spot, but at least it doesn’t smell, and unless someone is coming looking, you’re not going to be disturbed, most people having gone home from the offices on either side of you.

You go down just far enough that you’re in the shadows, far enough that even if someone did wander past, you’re going to be hidden as much as possible. You drop his hand as you lean back against the brick wall, staring at him as he takes a step closer to you, hands settling on your waist.

“You want me here?” He speaks lowly, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you could reach up on your toes and kiss him, but you want to see if he breaks first.

You nod your head, tipping it back against the brick, shoving your hips off the wall as some kind of hint to him, “What do you want, hermosa?”

“Want you to touch me, Javi.” You breathe, leaning up just a touch so he can feel the breath from your lips across his.

“But I already am.” He smirks, eyes flitting to where his hands are resting on your hips.

With a roll of your eyes, you reach your own hand down your body, coming to rest of the waistband of your work trousers. You motion your head a little, dragging Javi’s eyes down to where your hand is resting on the button of your trousers, making sure he’s watching when you pop it open, dragging the zip down and then leaving it like that.

His own hand trails from your right hip, warm fingers brushing the skin you’ve revealed, but he doesn’t move them further, just lets his fingers rest on the skin as he brings his lips to your jaw, kissing softly from your chin, all the way up to the delicate skin behind your ear, “Want me to touch you here?” He all but growls into your ear as his hand sinks beneath your trousers, wide palm cupping you through your underwear, bringing a gasp from your throat, “Yeah, sounds like you do baby.”

You bring your hands up to rest on his shoulders – something to grip onto as his fingers trace along the seam of your pussy through the thin cotton of your panties. His touch is gentle, but the way his mouth is pressing hot and wet to the skin across your neck is anything but. It’s searing, and exciting, and wrong but in all the right ways.

“If I dip my fingers under here,” He asks, fingers toying with the elastic of your panties, “You gonna be wet for me, querida?”

“W-why don’t you find out?” You choke out, feeling him smile against the skin of your neck as his fingers dip just below the waistband of your panties, fingers dragging over the curls on your mound, down lower, until they’re so close to where you want them.

He dips his fingers through your folds, slipping them into you so easily. Your mouth drops open, his own so close to yours that you could feel his lips on yours as you moan, his fingers dragging out of you and up to your clit, where he starts gently circling.

“What’s got you all worked up, eh?” He asks, his other hand coming to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him, your mouth dropped open as he works his fingers across your clit, “Can’t just be from me right here,” He muses, “You been sat at your desk thinking about me?”

He presses his fingers more firmly across your clit, it feels so good, the way he’s working you, “T-think about you a-all the time.” You croak out from your throat, hips starting to move with his hand, needing something more.

“Naughty little thing,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nibbling lightly at your earlobe as his fingers drag from your clit back down to where you’re so slick for him, his fingers slipping back inside you, but curling up, finding a spot inside you that no-one had even shown you existed until now, “Feel good?” He asks, “You tell me what works, okay?”

You nod, two of his fingers working in and out of you. It feels good, but it’s nothing compared to the way he made you feel before, when his fingers trailed over your clit in little circles. You grip his wrist, “Outside,” You say simple, “Like how you were doing it before.”

He presses his lips to yours, dragging his fingers back up through your folds, using his middle finger to draw light circles over your swollen bundle of nerves, “Like this?” He asks, which is punctuated with a moan from your lips. It’s loud enough this time that his free hand is flying to cover your mouth with his palm, shushing you as he presses his body against yours, pinning you in place, his own excitement no longer hidden from you. You can feel the bulge of his cock through his jeans, pressing into your side as the movement of his fingers speeds up, just a touch.

Whilst it’s a familiar feeling – it’s the way you’re used to bringing yourself off, more often than not to the thought of the very man in front of you – there’s something so different about Javi being the one to have you dangling over the edge, teetering on the edge of pleasure just with his fingers.

“Tell me, bebita,” He coos into your ear, “Has anyone else ever made you come?”

His palm is still covering your mouth, so you can’t speak, so all you do is shake your head in response, watching as his eyes darken and he sticks his bottom lip out a little in a pout, “Poor girl,” He says, his middle finger speeding up just a touch again, pressing harder, “Shall we fix that?” He asks, which has you nodding your head so ferociously that it should be embarrassing, “Go on then,” He coaxes, “I know you’re close, just let go for me.”

If someone had told you months ago, before he’d reappeared in town, that Javier Peña would be the first man to make you cum, pressed against the brick wall of your office, with his hand clamped around your mouth to stop you from crying out, you’d have told them to get lost.

Your entire body shakes as your orgasm starts to ripple through you. White hot pleasure explodes across your lower body, your fingers dig into Javi’s shoulders, fisting the material of his shirt as he finally drops his hand from your mouth, gripping at your waist to keep your upright when the shaking of your legs threatens to topple you to the ground. His fingers are moving across you more slowly, but are adding just enough pressure to work you through those aftershocks, until it becomes too much.

Your forehead hits his shoulder, your hands wrapping around the breadth of his broadness as he drags his hand from your trousers, slipping both around your back to drag you into his body, “Did so good for me, querida.” He praises, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your spine through your shirt.

“Felt good.” You manage to mumble into the material covering his shoulder, pushing yourself back up and off him, hand trailing down his chest to try and touch him, return the favour, but he’s gripping your wrist to stop you.

“Not tonight,” He says, “Just wanted to make you feel good.”

“But-” You try to protest, but his grip on your wrist is strong and you can’t move it.

“I promise I’ll let you return the favour, but not tonight, okay?”

You nod your head. Javi brings his hands to your trousers, zipping them back up and pushing the button through the buttonhole. He tugs the hem of your shirt back into place, before he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. He glances at the watch on his wrist, clocking the time, “It’s late, querida,” He sighs, “We better get you on the road.”

And it’s a strange feeling, that this tiny little bubble is bursting so soon. You know it’s important to keep this under wraps, you’re sure no-one would be pleased to find out that Javier Peña, your dad’s friend, had been pinning you to a wall and coaxing an orgasm from you with his fingers, and there’s something about the secrecy of it all that makes it more exciting, but as you walk back to your respective vehicles, Javi so far away that you can’t reach out to touch him, it stings a little. Stings a little that you’re not going to get to be normal with him, that for now, your relationship, whatever that might be, is going to be kept secret, clandestine meetings and stolen glances wherever possible, when all you really want to do is grasp his hand in yours and shout to everyone that he belongs to you.

“We going to make this a habit?” You ask, unlocking your door and sliding into the drivers seat.

Javi keeps a hang on the top of the door, keeping it open for a while, “What?” He smirks, “Pressing you up against brick walls?”

“Pressing each other against brick walls,” You correct, “It’s your turn next time.”

He runs a ringer over his bottom lip, a habit you’ve known for years is something he does when he’s nervous or stressed, “I need you to know if I didn’t have to keep you a secret, I wouldn’t, okay?” You smile up at him, nodding your head, “I promise it won’t always have to be like this, but just for now, okay?”

“Okay,” You nod, “Now give me a kiss goodbye and let me go home.”

He does just that, leans down and gives you a kiss, one that you would class as proper this time, where he opens his mouth against yours, licks into your mouth, the coarse hair above his lip scratching lightly at your skin. He pulls away just a touch, pecking you on the lips once, then twice, then a final time, when you grip the collar of his shirt to keep him there just a little moment more.

“Go home, Javi.” You giggle when you finally let him go, “I’ll see you soon.”

He gives you a final chaste kiss to your lips then shuts your door for you, walking around your car to get in his truck. You wonder for a while if there’s going to a weird stand-off between the two of you, but he turns the key in his ignition and drives off with a final wave, leaving you to do the same.

When you pull up outside your home, you pull the mirror down, make sure nothing on your face gives away what you’d just been up to, smoothing down your hair. You take a second to take a few deep breaths, before you step out, going back to being the innocent daughter your parents still believe you to be.

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stevie-petey · 4 months

Text

episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him. “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual. It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this english essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

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powderblueblood · 4 months

Text

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

CHAPTER SEVEN — WELCOME to the REAL WORLD, JACKASS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

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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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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Baby Blue - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

Joel loses a bet to Ellie and is forced to chaperone a dance in Jackson. He might not mind it as much when he sees that their pretty neighbor is also chaperoning.

warnings | 18+ light on the angst, heavy on fluff, SMUT

a/n | this can be read as a standalone or as a continuation of Sweetness, it's just fun either way :)

..................

Joel lost a bet. He had taken Ellie out to practice her shooting, lining up old cans as targets. She was getting a little too cocky about her aim, so he had upped the ante, moving the still-standing cans a few more yards away, stacking them in a pyramid.

“If you’re so good, kid, I’d like to see you hit just that top can there.” He pointed out to the can on top of the stack. Ellie scoffed.

“Easy. You don’t think I can do it, old man?” He just shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, crossing his arms over his chest. Ellie was grinning.

“Do you bet I can’t do it?” She had caught him that day in a half-decent mood, so for once, he was game to play along.

“What’s your wager, kid?” She thought for a moment, before her eyes lit up wildly and she fixed him with a grin. Joel was suddenly a lot less interested in playing along.

“If I hit that can, you gotta sign up to chaperone the dance they’re throwing next week.” Joel actually groaned at that. When he had heard from Maria about their plan to host a makeshift prom for all the high-school-aged kids in the town, Joel had thought to himself that there might not be anything he missed less than the concept of a bunch of hormonal teenagers nervously fucking around in a humid gymnasium for a whole night. He had chaperoned one dance before, Sarah’s first and only homecoming, and his heart seized at the memory of how he almost blew a gasket watching Matthew Brown getting a little too handsy with his daughter. Needless to say, when they had asked at the next town meeting for adults to volunteer to chaperone, Joel had not offered his services up.

“Ellie, there’s gotta be something else. I’m not going anywhere near that dance.”

“Well if you’re so sure I’m gonna miss, what’s it matter anyways?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“And if you miss, what do I get?”

“If I miss, I’ll stop bugging you about your very obvious crush on our neighbor.” Ellie hadn’t let up about the young woman next door, not since Joel’s fake birthday when she had helped Ellie bake that cake for him. What the girl didn’t know was that the pair had shared a kiss that night, but since then, Joel had been hopeless. He’d greet her whenever he saw her around, and they’d exchange a few nice words, but everytime he talked to her his brain went fuzzy with the memory of that night, and he’d yet to “make a move” as Ellie had been goading him to do ever since.

“Alright, kid. Let’s see what you got I guess.” They shook on it. Joel wasn’t really worried about it. Hell, he didn’t even think he could make that shot, and if it meant getting Ellie off his back about their pretty neighbor, he was game.

He had sorely underestimated the kid, which was why he found himself in the old Jackson rec center gymnasium on a Saturday night, watching a bunch of puberty-ridden children of the apocalypse dance with each other to old cassette tapes from the eighties. This certainly hadn’t been on his end-of-the-world bingo sheet.

He leaned back against the cement wall, his eyes scanning the crowd for Ellie until he found her awkwardly dancing with Dina. At least he didn’t have to worry about Matthew Brown tonight. It was mostly other women chaperoning, and they had all given him weird looks when he came to volunteer. He had thought to himself that next time, he’d move the cans a lot further away.

But then he saw her on the other side of the gym, his lovely neighbor in an equally lovely light blue dress. The dress itself wasn’t anything special, a short-sleeved thing that fell at her shins, but on her, Joel reckoned it was still the prettiest thing he’d seen in at least the last twenty years. Her eyes met his from across the gym and she smiled brightly, already walking over towards him as Joel’s brain began to blare the oh shit alarm. She sidled up next to him, bumping her shoulder into his.

“Joel Miller, can’t say I was expecting to see you here. You lose a bet or something?” His eyes went wide as he looked at her. She just laughed.

“Sorry, I had to. Ellie told me.” He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“That kid is gonna be the death of me.” She shrugged, offering him a grin.

“She’s certainly a spitfire, that one. You know, she always asks me if I’ve talked to you lately, always telling me that you’d like to see me.” Joel felt absolutely mortified, his eyes sweeping anywhere but towards her to hide his embarrassment. He caught Ellie’s gaze out of the crowd, and the girl looked so smug he’d like to dissolve into nothing on the spot. That damn kid. He shook his head, turning his attention back to his neighbor and trying to pull himself together. He cleared his throat.

“You, um, you look real nice.” Her smile started to ease the panicky feeling in his chest. She lightly swayed the skirt of her dress.

“Traded some of the tomatoes I’ve been growing this summer for it. Certainly not the same as what I wore to my own prom, but I guess it works for a chaperone.” He offered her a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck and watching her smooth her hands down the skirt of her dress.

“Do you remember much of your own prom?” She laughed.

“Oh yeah. I wore this awful shiny purple dress and had matching butterfly clips in my hair. My date’s cufflink actually got stuck in one when he tried to pull a move in the back of the limo we rented, nearly scalped me he yanked so hard.” Joel couldn’t help the laugh that came out at that.

“Sounds memorable. I take it your date didn’t get too far in, uh, making his move?” She just let out a low whistle, shaking her head and swaying into his side again.

“What about you? Do you remember your prom?” He sighed, altogether liking the feeling of her shoulder continuing to brush into his too much.

“Hmm, I think mine was a little before your time. To be honest I don’t think we even made it to the dance, just ended up, uh, parking.” He blushed furiously as he got the words out, instantly regretting it. She just hummed.

“Wow, didn’t take you to be that kinda guy, Miller. I’m scandalized.” He could see by the smile threatening to creep onto her face that she was kidding.

“Did you at least wear a suit?” He scoffed.

“Of course. Gotta wear a suit to prom. I wasn’t that much of a heathen.” She quirked her brow at him.

“What color?”

“Blue.” “Navy?”

“Uh, not quite.”

“Like a royal blue then?” Joel just sighed, his shoes suddenly very interesting to him.

“No. You’re not telling me you wore a baby blue suit to prom are you?” He huffed.

“It was the 80s, alright? Everyone was wearing them, thought it was cool.” Her laugh was big and bubbling, eyes crinkling up as she looked at him in disbelief. She finally caught herself, resting her hand on his bicep and giving it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I just– never in a million years would I have pictured you in a baby blue suit and now I’m probably gonna be imagining it until the day I die.” He shook his head, not able to fight the smile breaking out at her delight in teasing him. He willed her to keep her hand on his arm, and she did, curling her fingers lightly and letting out a sigh.

“Laugh all you want, but my date thought I looked good that night.” She hummed, tilting her head up at him.

“I’ll buy that. But you look pretty good tonight too.” He choked on an inhale. He knew her flirting was entirely gratuitous, all he had on was a button down and jeans, the same thing he wore everyday. She leaned into his side.

“Whaddaya say, Miller. Will you be my prom date?” He let out a breathy laugh, feeling the blush creeping up his neck again. Maybe it was the sound of “the Cure” fizzing in the background, or the dizzy feeling he was getting watching the swish of the hem of her dress around her bare legs, but Joel finally decided to go for it. He tilted his head down to catch her gaze, a wry smile cracking across his face.

“I’m flattered, darlin. Thought you’d never ask.” The grin she gave him was her brightest yet, and Joel felt like he was melting on the spot.

They spent a while like that, leaning into each other against the back wall and snickering about nothing, lobbing flirtations back and forth. One of the other chaperones stopped by and slipped her a flask that they started passing between them, warmth quickly settling into both their features. Joel hadn’t felt this at ease in a long time, with her arm slung around his shoulders like they were the only two people in the room. She sighed resting her cheek on his arm as he glanced down at her.

“You know, even after he yanked my hair, my date still tried to make another move.” Joel scoffed but she just nodded.

“Mmhmm, he dragged me into the men’s bathroom, tried to get me to give him a handjob, pfft. I smacked him in the face and left right then and there, had to call my mom to come get me.” She laughed, but Joel wasn’t finding anything funny about it. Even though it had been at least two decades ago, and whoever this punk was had probably long been turned into a walking mushroom, Joel still briefly felt a twinge in his chest that he’d like to knock the guy’s lights out. He felt ridiculous, instead drawing his attention back to her and tentatively letting his hand wrap around her waist.

“That’s a really shitty prom memory.” And then, his tongue loosened by whatever they had been swigging from that flask, he said something way too bold.

“You wanna make a better one?” Her fingers stilled where they had been lightly playing with his shirt collar. She was just as shocked as him at his words, but she quickly caught herself, melting back into a smile.

“Well, depends who I’m making it with.” Joel was already slipping his hand into hers and turning heel to tug her along behind him out of the gym and into the hallway. Her breathy laugh of his name made his heart kick inside his chest. He was startled however, once they got out into the empty hall as she pulled him back towards her, tripping over his feet until they crashed together in a kiss. His hands quickly found purchase on her waist as she tugged him down by the hair at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help the low groan that thrummed through his throat when she licked into his mouth. She pulled back with a wet click of spit, taking a big gasp of air. Joel’s knees felt weak at the sight of her, lips swollen and parted, chest heaving in her pretty blue dress.

They were interrupted however, by the sound of chatter spilling out of the gym and into the hall. Joel’s eyes landed on another door, pulling her behind him and into what must have once been a supply closet. Luckily, when he flipped the lightswitch it worked, and they were back on each other in an instant, a tangle of tongues that was admittedly taking him right back to his highschool years. He walked her back until she was pressed up against the door, their hips slotting together, seeking more however they could get it. Her hands were grazing up and down his chest, sliding along the waist of his jeans in a way that was making him feel dizzy. His palms started to wander as well, from her waist down to the swell of her thighs, making her gasp when he squeezed the softness there before dipping around to her ass and he thought to himself that she was perfect in his hands.

He was snapped out of the swimming reverie that was kissing her when he felt her fingers starting to work at his belt buckle. He was quick to take both her wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the door. She huffed at him and he could only breathily laugh at her frustrated expression

“Nuh-uh, darlin. This one’s gonna be all you, alright?” She smiled, her head lolled to one shoulder.

“We gonna go parking after this, prom date?” Joel grinned, already kneeling down in front of her.

“Something like that.” While he may have felt like he was back in highschool, he still had his very-much-not-teenaged knees and back to deal with and he was feeling it as he got down on the floor in front of her. He figured the pain would be worth it.

His palms gently curled around her ankles, skimming up along her calves and the backs of her thighs as he rucked up her dress along with him. Her breath hitched when his hands squeezed at her hips, not taking her eyes away from his as he thumbed at the band of her underwear.

“Is this ok?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. He gave her hips a harsh squeeze that made her gasp.

“Need you to tell me, darlin, please.” She drew one of her hands to card through his hair, tugging lightly at the scalp to get him to tilt his head up towards her. Her eyes were blown wide, and she squirmed in his grip. Joel felt like his head was going to explode just looking at her.

“It’s good, Joel. I want it, want you, please.” It was all he needed to hear, laying an open-mouthed kiss to the top of one of her thighs before sliding her underwear down her legs and helping her step out of them on wobbly feet. He drew the hem of her dress back up and she seemed to get the hint, bunching it up in one fist to keep it out of the way for him. He let his mouth wander up the plush inside of her thigh, breath grazing over her cunt in a way that made her shiver in his grasp. When he dipped away, however, trailing down her other leg, she breathed out a long whine. At that, he let his teeth graze her skin, nipping just a bit unkindly at the softness.

“Patience, prom queen, I’m getting there.” She scoffed.

“Oh, I’m prom queen now?” She went to say something smart, but was cut off with a broken gasp when he finally dragged his tongue through her folds.

“I’d sure give you the crown, darlin.” With that, he dipped back into her heat, drawing his tongue up from her fluttering entrance to her clit and swiping over the bundle of nerves there. He could feel her thighs shaking where his rough palms were splayed, and he drew her one leg by the back of her knee over his shoulder to open her up even more to him. She keened into his mouth, sighing out soft curses mixed with his name as he worked her over. It wasn’t lost on Joel that it had been a long time since he had done anything like this, but judging from the way she was tugging on his hair and canting her hips into him he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Fuck, Joel– want m-more– please– need more.” He rested his cheek on the swell of her thigh, bringing a hand up and slipping two of his fingers into her tight heat. The moan she let out was more of a cry at that, and Joel’s head went swimmy again at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

“Want you to come for me, darlin. I know you can. You wanna come for me?” She nodded frantically at his goading words, and Joel dipped his face back between her legs to lick harsh stripes against her clit as his fingers continued to steadily pump her. He came up for air for a moment, watching her face scrunched in pleasure above him, the sight made his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Please, baby, come for me. Just let go, pretty.” It was all it took to send her over the edge, her hips jerking in his grip and her cunt pulsing around his fingers as he fucked her through it. She let out a few warbly gasps of his name, tugging his hair to get him to stop working her over through the sensitivity. He finally pulled away and she hissed as he helped her get her foot back on the ground, slumping back against the door and gazing down at him with a hazy smile, her dress fluttering back down around her legs. Joel stood with a groan, his knees screaming in protest but he was quickly distracted by her pulling him in by his collar for a stomach-churning kiss. She pulled away with a gasp, eyes searching his.

“Joel, wanna feel you please. Want you to fuck me.” He groaned at that, dipping his forehead to rest on her shoulder and shaking his head lightly. She stilled in his grasp, and when he looked up at her again, a worried look had settled over her face. He couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh that rumbled in his chest, that this woman standing before him actually wanted him that much. The furrow between her brow deepened, but he was quick to lay a kiss there, stroking the arc of her cheek with his thumb.

“I want you too– believe me. But I’ll be damned if the first time I have you is in a fucking supply closet.” She let out a wild laugh at that, her eyes crinkling up as she looked at him and a warmth melted through Joel’s chest at the sound.

“You know, I thought you were kidding about the whole parking thing.” Joel grunted, stealing another kiss from her before guiding her out of the closet.

“Fuck parking, I’m gonna take you home, darlin, if that’s alright with you?” They were already walking out of the gym but she still squeezed his hand and shot him a wicked grin.

“Sounds good, prom date, lead the way.”

When one of the chaperones checked the door that had been left ajar, they were only slightly horrified to find a pair of panties strewn on the supply closet floor.

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

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abibliophobiaa · 6 months

Text

right where you left me:

chapter two preview:

steve harrington x inexperienced!f!reader || best friends to lovers, mutual pining, second chance romance with the town handyman who lives in a cabin in the woods.

a/n: since the poll was a tie when i said i would call it, here’s a section of each of the two words you voted for. because i am generous. and because i have been writing this one for a few weeks and making you wait for it.

JEALOUSY:

Lucy leans her elbow against the counter, and you can’t help but admire the cream colored chunky knit sweater she’s wearing with a flowing skirt to finish off the look. It looks effortless on her.

“What can I get you today?”

“A hot coffee, cream two sugars please,” you tell her, and she gets to work behind the counter.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Steve’s truck he uses for work, the back full of leftover lumber.

“Oh, Steve’s here?” Lucy says, sounding a little faraway. Contrast to the ball of excitement she’s been since you walked in. “You know, he’s a confusing one, that guy.”

“Is he?” You laugh, watching as he rummages around his front passenger seat.

“Ever since the earthquake, he’s been giving up so much of himself. Charity, taking up the basketball team at the high school, helping out around town. Did you know he helped my parents build a shed last summer? By hand?” Her voice trails off, and that smile of hers grows once more, like she’s stuck in a far off memory. “And he’s handsome. Single. Yet he doesn’t date. Not really. It’s so…strange? But whoever he marries — they’re gonna be a lucky one.”

“Yeah…” Your brows furrow at her words.

Steve, your Steve, is something of a hero to these people. He’s your hero too, but it twinges in your chest hearing it from someone else. For so long he’d been yours, but now, it seems, he’s needed around here. Admired. Loved. And you’ve missed so much of it in running away. Time you’ll never get back.

He’s changed. You just never realized how much. An ache builds in your heart, wondering if maybe you’re too different now from who you both were years ago.

The man in question hops out of the vehicle, fingers carding through his hair as he gazes into the coffee shop, immediately lighting up when he sees you.

“Do you know him?” Lucy asks, voice raising in pitch as she hands you your coffee and you toss your bills onto the counter.

“Yeah,” you say, sipping at the coffee, “he’s been my best friend for years. I’m staying with him for the time being, actually.”

“Oh!” Lucy perks up, chewing her bottom lip. “So you’re the one he’s so —”

As your mouth opens to ask what Lucy means, Steve walks in. He immediately commands the attention of the shop, both yours and Lucy’s stares drawn to him as he slides an arm around your waist and tugs you against his side, oblivious to what he’s interrupted.

“I was going to grab you some coffee,” he says, fingers squeezing a bit at your side. He notices Lucy then. “Hey, Luce.”

Luce.

Familiar.

Jealousy burns. You try to tamper it down, to pretend the unspoken words between them don’t matter to you. But there are a thousand new questions that burn in your mind, with no words or standing to ask them.

Lucy waves in greeting, those pretty green eyes of hers glimmering in the moonlight spilling in through the front windows of the shop. “Always good to see you, Steve.”

“You too,” he agrees, head lowering closer to yours as he then asks, “Ready to head out?”

He’s leading you to the door, and you spare a glance over your shoulder to the woman you’ve just met moments ago. There’s a look you can’t quite place on her features, a furrow of her brows, a slight downturn to her softly parted lips.

You wave your goodbye, and try to push all of whatever that might have been into the depths of your mind.

TENSION:

Now you sit beside him on the floor, admiring the freshly painted wall, taking a moment to breathe before starting the next one. You’re wearing a pair of overalls, a ratty old tee shirt tied up beneath, revealing the curve of your side, a patch of skin that Steve’s been trying to not stare at for the past few hours.

His heart clenches as your head tips over your shoulder, a little splatter of olive colored paint across your cheek. Reaching out, he cups your cheek and wipes it away, warming as you lean a bit into his touch.

Neither of you dares to acknowledge the tension burning in the room. The way it feels like time seems to slow to a halt when you’re there, shuffling up onto your feet, moving over to the next wall. Steve only talks. Begins prattling on about anything and everything, trying to keep himself distracted from the feeling swirling in his gut — the desire that has only grown every day to see what might happen if he just dared to try. To close the gap between your lips and put to bed all the questions.

But he doesn’t. Instead he gazes ahead, mouth dropping open when he asks about what your relationship with Clark was like — in what feels like an attempt to torture himself — and you utter that you’d never really done anything with him.

“Or anyone…for that matter,” you add slowly, your bottom lip pushing between your teeth, voice a little quiet.

“Like…?”

“I’m not a virgin, Steve,” you bark out, eyes rolling a bit in your skull. “But I’ve really only been with one guy. And it wasn’t even good or anything.”

“You’re joking.”

“Steve.”

“I’m not making fun. I’m just…”

“Shocked at how pathetic I am?” you drawl, taking a step backward. Away from him.

“No — I just —”

“It’s not like the movies either. All of the explosions and fireworks.” You frown, and Steve grimaces at your words. At the sadness lining your features. “I just — I don’t know. It wasn’t like how you’d always talked about it. We barely even kissed during it and I didn’t…”

“Honey…” he sighs, taking a step forward. “Clearly, he wasn’t the right guy. The right guy would have made it extra special, because you’re special, and definitely would have made sure you finished before he did. And I’m sorry but he didn’t deserve you, because you deserve all the explosions and fireworks.”

“Yeah?” You sound so hopeful, eyes a little narrowed, mouth parting softly.

“I mean…hypothetically…” he steps a little closer.

He catches your slow swallow. The way your chest heaves on a breath, eyes trailing his form. Heat burns in the atmosphere as your eyes narrow a bit, staring at him like you had in the woods. Appreciatively, and not at all like a friend. How long had he missed those looks? How long had he not noticed the slow simmering desire beneath the surface? Suddenly he’s back in that closet and a teenager again, only now instead of your jean shorts, his finger curls into the pocket of your overalls, chest brushing yours. Cornered, your back bumps against the presently dry wall behind you.

“If it were me —” he stops. Thinks better of it.

“N-no,” you splutter out, voice a rasp, breath puffing, “go on. Hypothetically, obviously.”

“Well, for starters, I’d start by getting down on my kne —”

“Hey, kids!” Mr. Jones calls into the room, and you both jump like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t be. “Could one of you help me sort through some boxes? I don’t want to be a bother, but my back just isn’t what it was, you know?”

You throw a hand up in the air. “I’ve got it.”

Steve inwardly groans, his jeans suddenly a little too tight at what he’d been imagining doing to you only moments before — what he’d been imagining doing to you for years, if he was being honest.

You glance away, rushing over to Gerry, embarrassment rolling off your form.

And you’re gone, following the older man from where he came.

Conversation…over.

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#lunalovessteve #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fanfiction

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storiesofsvu · 6 months

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Good Little Pet

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut, kitten kink/very minor pet play, more mentions of it, strap sucking, daddy!emily, lots of dirty talk. Welp, we made it, the last halloween fic on November 8th. nbd lol. who knows if it's any good. Bare with me as I continue to try and get some one shots out for y'all!

To be completely honest, Emily was pretty exhausted, drained from a day of questioning sleazebag after sleazebag in an attempt to move forward on a case, the only saving grace was that it was local to D.C, no jets, no hotels and most importantly, she could come home to you at the end of the day. She’d already missed dinner, the sun gone from the sky when she finally trudged out to the parking lot, the car springing to life so the clock could tell her it was nearing ten thirty p.m. already. Plugging her dead phone in she let out a sigh and shifted the car into drive, by the time she hit the freeway her phone began to buzz with a couple of texts from you that she waited until she was at a standstill to check.

‘Guessing you’re trapped at work, I’m heading out around seven. Dinner’s in the fridge, lmk if you’re gonna swing by the party, you know the address.’ With a little smiley face and heart at the end. The next one was time stamped two hours later.

‘Ngl, I’m a little drunk. This Halloween punch is no joke. Would it be wildly inappropriate to say I want you to rail me into next week? God I hope you’re not on the jet rn galivanting off across the country because my hands just will not cut it.’

Emily barked out a laugh, shaking her head at your brashness before she swiftly typed out a reply, sly smile still on her cheeks.

‘It would only be wildly inappropriate if you weren’t my girlfriend. I’m on my way now, save me a drink.’

She signed it with a kiss and plugged the address into her GPS, taking note of the different exit she was going to have to take.

To be completely honest, you didn’t go out much, whether that was to the bar or to house parties, you especially felt like you’d outgrown the latter. You were much more focused on work and spending what free time you did have with your girlfriend considering she was out of town more often than not. So tonight was a special night where you were finally letting loose a little, indulging in punch, drinking games and catching up with friends you hadn’t seen in a while. The party was a mix of people, some you’d worked with in the past, their partners, friends, new coworkers, a full house including a handful of people you didn’t know.

You’d been catching up with April when one of those people you didn’t know sauntered up and introduced himself as Travis, his hand lingering in yours a little too long for comfort had you been sober. His intro line was funny enough to make you laugh and honestly he was pretty cute, if you were single and swung that way you wouldn’t have any complaints. He conveniently reached around you to grab a fresh beer out of the cooler, passing it off to his other hand so the first one could remain leaning on the counter, dangerously close to your body. You complimented his costume, earning a wide grin from him as he chuckled softly, paying both of you a compliment back before the three of you fell into an incredibly easy and comfortable conversation.

Emily managed to slip into the house unnoticed, though she wasn’t surprised, things were more than in full swing, people everywhere, lights low and music going. Crossing through the main living room there was a group of people half watching horror movies while shouting when to drink to each other while they talked over the rest of it. She caught eyes with a few people she recognized, giving them waves from across the room as she made her way through the space to the doorway of the kitchen where she heard you before she saw you. Your laugh always made her heart flutter, whether she was the one pulling them from you or not, her lips twitching up into a grin as her eyes searched through the darkened room.

Her eyes widened briefly when she saw you, dressed in a tight, sparkly black bodysuit with matching boy shorts over top, just enough of your chest peeking out over the top of the neckline. The tip of your nose was painted pink, whiskers drawn across your bright cheeks, a headband with cat ears on the top of your head and a fluffy tail pinned to the back of your shorts. She knew you hadn’t been planning anything extensive for your costume, not being one for dressing up but this was just the perfect amount to look good yet also drive her wild. As her gaze dragged up your body her head tilted, eyes narrowing at a hand resting on your hip that wasn’t yours, rather it was connected to the arm wrapped around your waist. The man beside you was laughing at something you said, leaning in to untangle a curl of your hair that had gotten wrapped around one of the cat ears.

She could tell that he wasn’t making you uncomfortable, the smile on your cheeks genuine and not just to appease him but that didn’t help the green eyed monster that was beginning to burn inside her gut. She wasn’t sure if it was an old friend or a stranger who was getting a little too cozy, but she certainly didn’t want him to stick around much longer. Slipping through the crowd she was finally able to approach you, a smirk breaking out on her lips when you spotted her, practically jumping away from the counter and your new friend.

“Baby!” You greeted, squeezing tightly at her hand as you popped toward her to steal a quick kiss.

“Hi babe.” She murmured back, smile on her cheeks before she was interrupted.

“Aw c’mon, you’re not even dressed up.” Travis interjected.

“Yeah?” Her hand found her hip, brushing back the front of her blazer revealing her Glock in the process.

“So what’re you supposed to be?” He asked again, smarmy grin on his cheeks.

“An FBI agent who’s pissed you’ve got your hands all over her girlfriend.” She replied with a stern gaze and he backed up with a laugh.

“You could at least let me hold your gun.”

“It’s not a prop.” Emily glared and he was across the kitchen without a second word, April disappearing to leave the two of you alone for a couple of minutes.

“He was harmless.” You giggled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I know.” She huffed a laugh, “doesn’t make intimidating him any less fun.”

“You’re ruthless.”

“And you make one hell of a seductive cat.”

“Yeah?” You asked with a grin, “that mean I get to sit on your lap?”

“You can do a lot more than sit on my lap.” She murmured; her fingers splayed across your jaw to tilt your head toward her as her thumb trailed down your neck. She’d been intending to pull you into a kiss but when her thumb hit leather her eyes directed further south, widening at the black choker around your neck. It only took a second for her to realize it wasn’t a necklace, but rather a collar, complete with a gemstone at the front of it, her head tilted in confusion. “That’s not your birthstone.”

“No.” You chuckled, “it’s yours. All kitties have to know who they belong to, don’t they?”

“Well you…” her thumb moved back up, rubbing at your jaw, “seem to have forgotten that part.” She leant down, leaving a kiss on the side of your neck, her next words husked into your ear, “I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.” Her teeth nipped at your earlobe as your breath caught in your throat, a tingle shooting through your entire body, “now kitten…who do you belong to?”

Your eyes widened, pulse quickening at the use of the new pet name, knowing no doubt it was brought on by the risqué costume you’d chosen for the night, completely unaware it was going to awaken something like this in Emily.

“You, daddy.” You whispered and she smiled, a hungry look in her eye as she leant in to peck you.

“Good girl.” Her hand slunk down your arm, fingers lacing with yours, “now, you promised you’d save me a drink.”

“Mmhmm…” Nodding, you took a breath to try and calm yourself before leading her to the drink table.

Emily’s hand didn’t leave your body for the rest of the night, lingering in the small of your back, resting across your shoulders, winding tightly around your waist whenever anyone got a little too friendly. Her lips would press into your neck, shoulder, cheek, temple, anywhere acceptable for PDA in a crowd like this, staying glued to your side to make sure it was known you were hers. At one point you leant over a table, tossing the beer pong ball back to someone and she caught Travis’ eyes looking directly down your shirt, lips forming a hungry grin that made her stomach churn. She grabbed your waist, swiftly turning you to her and catching you in a deep kiss, smiling at the way your arms instantly wound around her shoulders.

“It’s time to go.” She murmured and you let out a small giggle, whispering back.

“Whatever you say daddy.”

Emily’s tongue was down your throat, her hands pawing at your ass as she backed you down the hallway into the bedroom, nearly tripping over her own feet as she did. You let out a moan into the kiss, your hips rutting against hers as your arms wrapped tighter around her shoulders. Her teeth sank into your lower lip, pulling a groan from you as she reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, a fire in her eyes as she grinned at you.

“Can’t believe you dressed up like this just for me.” She said and you giggled.

“Well.. if it was just for you… it would’ve been sluttier.”

“How so?” She asked, a brow raised.

“No shorts, for starters.” Your fingers slipped into the waist band, shoving them down your legs leaving you in just the body suit, “probably more cleavage.” You tugged the fabric down further, exposing more of your chest and Emily chuckled.

“But now you’ve lost your tail, kitten.” Her finger curled under your chin, tilting your head to the side, nipping at you earlobe, “although we could get you a plug that has one.” Her lips brushed against your skin, “would you like that?”

“Mmhm…” You giggled, a gleam in your eyes as you looked up at her, “I didn’t expect you to be so into this?”

“What can I say?” Her fingers slipped between the collar and your neck, “I like it when everyone knows you belong to me.” Your breath hitched as she tugged on the leather, pulling you closer to her, a familiar need beginning to pulse between your legs, “now why don’t you show daddy what gorgeous lingerie you have on under this and get down on your knees like a good little pet?”

You nodded eagerly, quickly slipping the bodysuit off your body, letting it drop to the floor while Emily padded through the room, stripping her own clothing as she went. Her eyes stayed on you, a small smile on her lips as she admired your lingerie, lacy and black to fit the theme, hugging your curves perfectly.

“That looks like my new favourite.” She purred, opening the nightstand drawer to pull out the strap, “how about you get rid of the bra, let me see those gorgeous tits, kitten.”

While you were ridding yourself of accessories, she was adding to her own, a smirk on her lips as she approached you, cock heavy between her legs. Her fingers curled around your cheek, turning your face up to her as her eyes slipped down to admire your half naked frame.

“Just so beautiful.” She winked, the tip of her finger tapping the tip of your nose, “now why don’t you get daddy’s cock nice and wet so I can fuck you so good you forget your own name, hmm?”

“Yes daddy.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even think, sitting up on your knees to brace yourself on her thighs while your lips eagerly wrapped around the tip of the toy.

You bobbed down it, sinking it into the back of your throat in the way Emily absolutely loved, her hips rocking it an inch deeper as she let out a soft groan. Her hand collected your hair, gently wrapping it around her fist while you pulled off her cock, tongue sticking out of your mouth and she chuckled, using her free hand to hit the tip of her dick on your tongue.

“Good girl.”

At the praise you smiled up at her, licking a broad strip up the toy before sucking it back into your mouth, inching down it once again. Emily’s hand tightened in your hair, pushing you down further and setting a faster pace as she continued to fuck into your mouth. You could feel drool pooling in the corners of your mouth and a similar wetness collecting in your panties, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt for some relief. Your mouth sunk down to the base of the toy, pulling a gasp from Emily when the movement nudged it right against her clit. Pushing her cock deeper into your throat you slowly shook your head, shifting it back and fourth and she groaned softly, her hand tugging you off the toy by your hair.

“Are you really that needy tonight kitten?” She asked, a fire behind her eyes and you nodded, chest heaving as you panted for breath.

“Please daddy.”

“Well then get on the bed, hands and knees.” She tugged on your hair, letting it fall from her hands as you stood, watching hungrily as you presented yourself for her. “Always such a good pet, aren’t you.” You felt the bed dip behind you as she climbed onto it, her hands sliding up the back of your thighs, squeezing at the globe of your ass before a hand spanked you and you let out a gasp, feeling the tingle shift from where she’d hit you spark through your body before settling in your pussy. Emily let out a small chuckle, her hands toying with your panties, “yes… I do think you’d look rather spectacular with a tail plugging that pretty ass.” She spanked you again, “for next time I guess.”

“Please…” You whined, pressing your hips back toward her, letting out a moan as her thumb brushed over your tight hole, pressing ever so lightly.

“Don’t worry kitten, daddy will take care of you.”

Her fingers slipped into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside before she chuckled darkly, her eyes settling on the glistening between your legs. There was no doubt you’d been waiting for this all evening and were absolutely aching for her to fill you up, walls fluttering around nothing as you let out a little whimper. Her hands slid up the backs of your thighs once again, pulling your pussy lips apart so she could admire you, watching the way the soft light made your juices practically sparkle. You dropped down onto your elbows, back arching and she hummed in appreciation as the angle of her view changed to one where she could see more of you, her fingers coming up to toy with your cunt.

“My pretty girl.” She purred, her slicked fingers rubbing up your back before they curled under your collar, “shame we don’t have a leash for you. I know how much you like to be choked.”

“Oh god…” you moaned, your eyes practically rolling back into your head as she tugged at the leather, just imagining how much harder she could be pulling with the extra accessory.

“We’ll make a trip to the toy store this weekend.” Her hand moved to swat at your ass again, “get my pretty kitty whatever she wants.”

You let out a loud gasp when her body rocked forward, cock plunging into you until her hips were crashing into yours, your body shooting forward on the bed.

“Fuck!”

“You can take it.” She groaned, pulling her hips back to admire her cock slicked with your juices before it plunged back into your heat. “This’ll teach you, won’t it?” She set a fast and deep pace, each thrust of her hips driving you forward on the bed, the head of her cock brushing your g-spot, pulling louder and longer moans from you. “No more flirting with silly boys at parties.”

“N-no.” You moaned out, pussy clenching down around her as you began to claw at the bedspread, pleasure surging through your body, your skin already on fire as she continued to fuck you with ease.

“And who does my sweet kitten belong to?” She asked, giving a particularly hard thrust that drove you into the mattress.

“You daddy.”

“That’s my good pet.” Continuing to fuck deeper into you she leant over your body, leaving a handful of kisses across you bare skin. Your body shivered with each touch of her lips, thighs shaking as her hand found its way between them, gently pinching your clit before rubbing it in circles. “I know you’re close princess, you’ve been waiting too long for this. So good for daddy…”

“Fu-uck. Oh fuck!” Your eyes scrunched shut as you felt the coil getting tighter before, “harder!”

Your request was all Emily needed before her hips crashed into yours and you collapsed onto the bed, letting her fuck you into the mattress and her fingers rubbed harder at your throbbing nub. Only a minute later and the dam burst, cries of pleasure escaping your lips to bounce off the bedroom walls, the only accompanying sounds Emily’s pants and sopping sounds from your cunt as you reached your orgasm.

Emily’s thrusts slowed as your body shook beneath her, her hand disappearing from your clit, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your hips as she fucked you through your orgasm.

“That’s my good girl.” She cooed, “always so pretty for me when she comes.”

You let out a whimper in acknowledgement, barely nodding your head and she chuckled, giving you one last hard thrust that you gasped at before she gently pulled out, watching your juices dribble onto the bedspread. She tossed the strap to the side to be dealt with later, crawling over you as her hands soothed across your skin, lips leaving feather light kisses up your spine until she was fully over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple that you practically purred at while she untangled the cat ear headband from your hair, gently placing it on the nightstand. She shoved the covers down, rolling onto her back and tucking you into her side as you started to catch your breath, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin as she pulled the covers back up over the two of you.

Once your breathing was evened out you let out a soft sigh and she smiled, tilting your head up to kiss your lips before her fingers traced the pattern of the leather on your neck, the stone catching in the light.

“We are actually gonna go to the store, right?” You asked with a yawn burrowing deeper into her embrace and she laughed.

“I said, I’ll get you whatever you want kitten.”

“Good.” You grinned, eyes opening to look up at her, “not gonna lie, if I knew this was gonna awaken something in you I wouldn’t have waited until Halloween.”

Emily rolled her eyes, swatting at your ass through the blanket as you laughed, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Her fingers traced the choker, pinching at the gem, “you like wearing this?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded.

“Should get you something more dainty for everyday wear.”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” She pinched at your chin, “maybe that way you won’t forget whose pet you are again.”

“Definitely not.”

___________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem e @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @originalbrunettecharacter @elz-artzzz @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #halloween fic #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic

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lukeywritesstuff · 6 months

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this request might be a little confusing to type out but hear me out😭🤣 could u write something ab the reader having a kid and the devils having a event where the players get to train with the kids! the readers kid is one of the kids at the event and luke falls for the reader somehow through that! idk i have this vision in my head but idk how to type it out😭

Little League

Luke Hughes x mom!reader

Note: don’t worry! I totally understand what you’re saying. I read this and kinda had a social media/irl storyline come to my mind so I hope that’s alright! Also I kinda made them slightly know each other, but like acquaintances and they have like mutual friends kinda sorta.

Warnings: a shit ton of fluff. Literally it’s all fluff. Like I don’t even think this has cursing in it. And if so maybe once.

My name is Y/N, and when I was 15 I had a son. He is absolutely everything to me. I was young, and dumb, but if I was given the option to go back and never hook up with some senior at my school, I wouldn’t take the offer. I love my little man too much.

When he was 2 he fell in love with hockey, so at 3 I let him start learning how to skate and grasp the basics of playing hockey, even though for his age it was just floor. Now at 5 he’s playing fully on ice and his team was even invited to practice with the New Jersey Devils, as his team, and we, are based in Newark.

Once we got to Prudential Centre the boys were sent to the main locker room, their names were on tape right under their buddy for the day. I was looking around and right under ‘Luke Hughes’ in full capital letters read ‘Ethan Y/L/N’. I walked my son over to the stall where his name was (obviously avoiding the logo) and I helped him change into his pads, uniform and skates.

After all the kids were settled and ready, coach Ruff started explaining to the kids and the parents how this practice session basically works.

It’s a 4 week training camp, and it’s every Wednesday that the devils are in town. (So 4 Wednesdays, but sometimes there’s a week between the practices without one cuz they’re away) after everything was explained, the Devils were brought into the locker room to meet with their buddies for the program.

The second Ethan saw Luke the smile on his face grew by about 100%. He watched him on Michigan last season as my sister goes there and is friends with some of the older players on the team, and they’ve met before, so he’s excited to see his old friend.

“LUKEY! You’re my buddy! I’m so happy! I missed you! Are we gonna shoot pucks and score on everyone!?” My 5 year old said acting like I just fed him 3 coffees with a side of 10 pounds of sugar.

“Oh yeah we are! We’re gonna be the best group on the ice! With the best cheerleader! Right Y/N?” He said and I smiled at them giving a thumbs up.

After the rest of the kids got to know their buddy a little more the teams were ushered onto the ice, and parents were to stay along the sidelines and not interfere unless there was an emergency.

The team had several smaller nets put up along the boards to practice shooting, cones near centre ice to practice skating, and pucks EVERYWHERE. The kids were all having a blast, and so were the professionals.

By the end of the 2 hours all the kids looked ready to nap, and honestly so did most of the players. Everyone went into the locker room and the players helped the kids with their skates before they talked to the parents.

“So, how was Ethan out there?” I asked the curly headed man smiling at me.

“He’s great. Future NHL superstar I think. The next Gretzky! Forget about bedard!” He said.

“I’m glad my kids THAT GOOD.” I smiled.

“Yeah he is. How are you though? I haven’t seen you since you and Ethan visited Sarah?!” He said bringing up my sister.

“Everything’s great here actually! He’s loving kindergarten now and I got a raise which is why I put him into this. As a little treat for him.” I smiled.

“You’re such a good mom to him. You know, since we’re both in Jersey, I think we should finally exchange numbers, and maybe we can go out for lunch one day Eth’s in school and you’re off and I don’t have practice!” He said smiling.

“You know what, sure Hughes. Pass me your phone and we can text tonight about said lunch date.” I said before taking his phone.

Ynstagram

Had a great time with the @njdevils and @lhughes_06. Eth will never forget this. Thank you so much 🫶🫶

╔═══════════════════╗

The second week was 2 weeks later as the devils had their first road trip of the season. The kids were extra excited because the wait was longer than they expected it to be.

The second Ethan saw Luke he ran to the man and attached himself to him, it didn’t seem weird because quite a few of the kids did the same to their buddies.

Today on the ice they were doing more team oriented practices instead of just one on one. So Luke, Jack, Dawson, and Nico were working together with Ethan and 3 other kids. It wasn't too eventful, just 2 on 2 scrimmage and small drills that 5 year olds can handle.

But this time after helping Ethan change and it was time for Luke and I to talk about his progress, he asks me out for the next evening, I said yes because Ethan was already gonna be at my parents so I'll be home alone anyways, why not spent that evening with Luke!

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfic

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louloulemons-posts · 8 months

Text

Oil At The Coffee Shop I

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Moving to the small town of Hawkins you hoped your journey would be a smooth one, what we hope for doesn’t always happen.

Word Count : 1.7k

Warnings : introduction, not much eddie x reader interaction, very rambley, bestie steve, sweetheart uncle wayne, grumpy eddie.

Fic Masterlist

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Moving away was scary, but you couldn’t stay put any longer. You knew if you didn’t move now then you would never leave, and you needed to go.

“That’s the last of it,” you brother smiled, putting a final box in your car. “You sure you’ll be okay without me?” you asked.

“Oh Im planning on calling you every day,” he smiled, “Seriously though, this is something for you. Aunt Callie wouldn’t have left it to you if she didn’t think so.”

“Only if you’re sure-“

“I am, now,” he turned from you, “Kids come say goodbye to your auntie.” Two children came running out of the house, their mother following behind.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you said squeezing them tight. “We miss you too,” your 2 year old niece spoke. “Will you come and see us?” your nephew asked.

“Of course Bud, and you can come and see me, and we can call!” Giving them one last squeeze you hugged your sister in law. “It’s gonna be strange not having you around, you take care of yourself okay?” she said.

“I will, and you too. Don’t let him start slacking off or I’ll come back and get him,” you laughed. “I’ll never slack off, now come here and hug me,” you brother smiled, opening his arms.

“I’m gonna miss you Scottie,” wrapping your arms around him. “I’ll miss you too Kid.” Rubbing your wet eyes and pulling away you climbed into your car. “Call us when you get there okay?” you sister in law spoke.

“Will do May, I’ll see you all soon!”

Soon enough you were off, driving away from your hometown to a small place called Hawkins.

You’d spent a lot of Summers there, your Aunt Callie had lived there. You’d spent your time playing in the lake and exploring the forest. It had been so much fun.

She had passed away a few months back, and soon you were sent a letter about her old shop. She’d left it for you.

If you weren’t swimming or running around you were in there with her. Helping her run the place for 3 weeks of the year. It was your escape, something you and Scott always looked forward too.

Hawkins had undergone some hard times, a serious of earthquakes and a whole bunch of nasty rumours. Now it was being built back up, physically and its reputation.

Your aunts shop, well your shop would be the next thing on that list. It would take a while to get there, but you hoped it would be an uneventful journey.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It was not an uneventful journey, “I swear to god next time I see that mechanic I’m gonna beat his ass,” you ranted, your car had broke down, only half an hour away from where you had to be.

You knew there was something us with it, but the smarmy man had said no it’s all in your head. He was just too lazy to take a look. Groaning you dropped your head onto the wheel of your car.

A knock on your window caught you off guard, “You alright miss?” Looking up it was thankfully someone you recognised. “Chief Hopper!”

“My god, is that really you! I haven’t seen you in so long, how are you?”

“Great, I’m good. How are you?”

“Wonderful, what are you doing here?”

“I’m actually going to be running Callies old store. My car broke down though.”

“I see. Well I can ring a mechanic for you, stay with you until they get here.”

“Would you?”

“Course, Munsons are the best.”

“Old Wayne Munson?” You asked.

“That’s him.” He left to make a radio call from his car, giving them an idea of your location. “They’ll be here soon.”

“Thanks Hop, so how’s life treating you?”

“Life’s good right now, got a wife. Kids.”

“Finally had the guts to tell Joyce how you feel?” He nodded, chuckling. “And the kids?”

“Well her two boys, mine now. Jonathan and Will. Then we’ve got a daughter, El.”

“Callie mentioned, gosh I bet little Wills all grown up now.”

“He’s 19 in a few months.” You let out a sigh, “Man you’ve made me feel old.” Hop laughed at that.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The catch up continued for a while, laughter and shared memories. Hopper was baffled by the fact Scott had a wife and kids of his own.

Soon enough a tow truck came driving up towards you, loud music playing. “Here we go,” Hopper said, motioning to the vehicle.

A man climbed out of the truck, clad in overalls and a grease stained white tee. Curly hair pulled into a bun on his head, hands cover in rings and tattoos here and there.

“Eddie, thanks for coming,” Hopper spoke.

“No worries, this the car?” he asked.

“Yeah it’s mine,” you motioned to yourself, and he met your eyes.

Dark eyes that looked like melted chocolate held your gaze. A face with light stubble, maybe from 2 days of not shaving. Wrinkles by his mouth, smile lines clearly, but darkness under his eyes.

He was beautiful. “Eddie this is Miss Callies niece,” he introduced you.

“Right, Eddie Munson. What happened?” he asked. “Well it was fine, it’s been making weird noises and then it just stopped. I had it checked over a few weeks ago but the guy wasn’t the best.”

“Well I’ll tow you into town, and then we can sort everything out at the shop.” He walked to grab his gear from the back of the truck.

“Great. Thanks for staying with me Hop,” you smiled at the older man. “Sure thing, Eddie you alright to take her into town.”

“Sure, you can get in. I’ll be with you in a minute,” he spoke, he voice was dull. Almost like he was bored, or tired or both.

Saying goodbye to Hopper you climbed in the van, waiting for Eddie to connect your car to the van.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Here we are,” Eddie spoke as you pulled into a mechanics shop. This was the first time he’d said a word since you left Hopper. You’d tried to make conversations, only met with grunts and hums.

Climbing out you saw a few other guys around the shop. A older man walked over to you, “Hey Son, this the one Hop called in?”

“Yeah Wayne, says there’s been a strange sound. Had it checked a few weeks back but not thorough.”

“We’ll get it sorted for you,” the man, Wayne, smiled softly at you.

He had a kind face, old and worn, but you could tell he was a gentle soul. “Thank you so much, you don’t happen to have a phone I could use do you. It’s just I’m moving here today and all my stuff is in the car.”

“You got someone who can help?” Wayne asked. You nodded, “Right, okay come with me.” Wayne led you into an office space, a phone on the desk. “Take as long as you need, I’ll help Eddie check it over.”

Dialling a number in, you waited for it to ring. “Harrington.”

“Stevie,” you smiled, he spoke your name, “How are you?” he asked.

“I’m okay, I’m really sorry to ask though, can you help me out?”

“Sure, what do you need from me love?”

“Think you could come and get me and my stuff from Munsons Mechanics?”

“I’m on my way, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks Steve, you’re the best.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A maroon BMW pulled up. You’d met Steve good few summers ago, he’d been playing basketball with your brother. You’d become fast friends, he was a sweetheart, a flirt, but a sweetheart.

He spoke your name, smiling widely. “Steve!” you grinned, he wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Hello you, god I’ve missed you,” he said.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Course.”

“Hey Mister Munson, would I be okay to start moving my stuff?” you asked the older man. “Sure, I’ve got some paperwork for you to fill out too.”

“You go do that and I’ll start moving your stuff,” Steve said, squeezing your shoulder.

“Harrington.”

“Munson, how you doing?”

“I’m alright. What are you doing here?”

“Picking up my friend,” he nodded over to you, who was currently filling in paperwork. Chatting away to Wayne as she did.

“You know her?”

“Mhm, childhood friends, Callies niece.”

“I’ve heard, never seen her.”

“She used to come every summer with her brother, makes sense you didn’t see her, was when you just moved here.”

He hummed, as Steve went and moved boxes between cars. “Right that’s the paperwork sorted, we’ll give you a call when it’s all ready.”

“Great, do I need to pay a deposit, I’ve got my purse.”

“We don’t really do that ‘round here, small town and all.”

“Oh I insist,” you pulled out a 50 and passed it to the man, smiling at him softly. “At least for fuel money for you coming to get me.”

“That’s very kind. Did you want help with the boxes?”

“Oh no it’s okay, I haven’t got much.” Smiling again at the man, you walked over to help Steve move the last few boxes.

“Thank you for the help, it was nice meeting you,” you spoke to Wayne.

“Course, we’ll give you a call. Nodding you climbed in besides Steve, “Thank you too Eddie.” He gave a grunt of your welcome and you were on your way.

“God I can’t believe you’re staying! It’s so exciting,” Steve said happily.

“It is, I’ve got a lock of work to do though. I know those earthquakes did a lot of damage to the shop.”

“I’ll help you fix it up, sure the others can too. Does anyone else know you’re coming into town?”

“A couple people, I mean Hopper was the one who helped me out when my car broke down.”

“Ah right, well Wayne and Eddie will get it fixed up in no time.”

“Don’t think Eddie likes me all that much,” you huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry about him, he’s grumpy all the time.” Nodding you head, you couldn’t help smiling when the shop came into view.

Climbing out of the car Steve spoke, “You go open up and I’ll start grabbing stuff.” Walking towards the door, you used the code to unlock where the key was kept.

Pushing it open a wave of memories took over, some new ones were about to be made.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N: AHHHH! It is here, the first part of Oil At The Coffee Shop. I can’t wait for you guys to find out what’s to come I hope you like it 🤍

Thank you so much for reading 🤍

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angelst4re · 9 months

Note

Hi angel 💕 Could you write a counterfeit jamie smut where the reader used to be friends with benefits with him and he comes back to her town on tour and she ends up in his hotel room if you know what I mean 🤭I love you’re writing <3

hi lovely!! thank you so much!! im sooo sorry for making you wait so long THIS REQUEST IS LITERALLY FROM FEBRUARY??? i hope it's worth the wait :)

Addiction- Counterfeit!Jamie x Reader

warnings: NSFW!!! this contains smut so if that makes you feel uncomfortable then please don't read!! <3

notes: it's been a while... for the last month i've been so busy and when i haven't been busy i've been thinking about noah sebastian and/or cillian murphy (jamie i am sorry i'm in a hoe phase rn!!) but i also have a henry creel drabble to post tomorrow as well so keep an eye out for that :) ALSO I WANNA SAY A BIG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME!!!! (p.s. this isn't proof read and i wrote this over the span of three weeks so i apologise for any mistakes!!)

When you received the message from Jamie telling you he’s playing a show in your city, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were out for lunch with two of your friends, who were questioning the wide grin on your face.

“Oh, I just know she’s texting Matt again,” one of your friends smirked, eyeing you up, “are you ever going to meet up with him? You’ve been talking for almost 3 months?!”

“Oh, no, it’s Jamie. He’s playing here with his band next month, he wants me to come and see them. He’s sent two tickets, I could ask for an extra one if you wanted to come with me-”

“That’s perfect! You can ask Matt to come with you!” Your other friend suggested, although it came off as more of a demand.

“But what if he asks about how I know Jamie? I couldn’t really explain that on a first date.”

“Well, just tell him he’s a friend, maybe leave out the ‘with benefits’ part.”

“We stopped that a while ago, actually. I haven’t seen him for almost a year, we’re kinda just friends now.”

“Then that’s your story sorted then,” your friend grinned, picking your phone up from the table and placing it in your hand, “now tell Matt he’s got a concert to go to.”

You were surprised when Matt texted back, telling you he’s never heard of counterfeit before, but he’ll happily listen to them and come with you. You felt a little bad for lying to him, telling him you had no one else to come with you as your friends were working that weekend.

On the evening of the show, Matt came to pick you up. You would’ve usually dressed quite casual for a concert, specifically one of Jamie’s, but this was also a date. You stepped out of your house wearing a black dress, comfortable shoes and a cute handbag to match the outfit.

“You look amazing,” Matt said, unable to wipe the smile from his face, “let’s get going!”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“That guy right there,” Matt shouted through the noise, pointing at Jamie, “is your friend?” His mouth was open in disbelief as you nodded your head. He had already had four beers, and you had only been here just over an hour.

“Yeah, I met him at one of the restaurants I used to work at. It’s a funny story actually, some crazy fangirls were waiting outside for him to leave so I kinda helped him ‘escape’ through the back…” You trailed off as you noticed he wasn’t paying attention to anything you were saying, his attention was elsewhere.

“Cool, I’m gonna get another drink, do you want one?”

You shook your head and watched as he disappeared off into the crowd.

Your eyes were drawn to Jamie, reminiscing on the times you had spent together. The times your bodies were intertwined beneath the covers and the times you spent laughing together in the car. You missed him, it was truly like it was a ‘right person, wring time’ kind of situation.

Time passed and passed and you realised Matt hadn’t come back yet. Surely the line wasn’t that long? You just assumed he had gone to the bathroom, especially after drinking that much. But another 15 minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned, so you went to search for him. You assumed he wouldn’t have wandered far from the bar, so you were heading in that direction.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were pushed up against the hotel door, slamming it shut as his lips met yours. One of your hands found his hair whilst the other was grasping at his shirt, as if you were hanging on to him for your life. The familiar smell of his aftershave, mixed with cigarettes gave you a feeling of nostalgia, and it was as if you were experiencing deja vu.

His hands were on your thighs, pushing your dress up higher and higher, until his cold hands met your bare hips.

“Jamie,” you gasped, pulling back for air. As if he couldn’t take his mouth off you, his lips were now on your neck, kissing and nibbling the spot he knew would make your knees buckle.

The last thing you expected tonight was to leave the show with the singer. With Jamie. But after you went to look for Matt, you caught him with his tongue down another girl's throat. A part of you felt sick, betrayed, but another part of you felt relieved. However, you would never admit that’s how you felt, especially not to your friends.

Jamie had given you a backstage pass, and cleared it with security before the show. You knew how the night was going to end as soon as you received the text from him.

“Why does this always happen,” Jamie asked rhetorically, against the skin of your shoulder as he continued to pepper kisses, “always end up coming back to you.”

You smile at his words, it was true. The two of you just couldn’t seem to keep your hands off each other when you were together.

Before you could process what had happened, you were pushed against the table, and Jamie took your thighs, lifting you to sit on the edge of it as he got down to his knees.

His kisses began at your ankle, and he looked up at you as they got closer and closer. Your calves, your knees and eventually your upper thigh.

“I’ve missed you.” He confessed as he held your thighs open, one finger pushing your underwear to the side.

He dragged a finger through your slick folds, earning a sigh from you as he grazed your clit. You looked down to see a smirk plastered on his face. His eyes briefly met yours before he placed a kiss over your clit, the tip of his tongue nudging it as you dug your nails into the underneath of the wooden table you were sitting on. Jamie quickly noticed this, and the hand that was holding your legs open for him guided your hands back to his hair.

“Shit.” You gasped as you felt a finger gently press into your entrance, his lips now wrapped around your clit, sucking and nipping at it. “M-more…” You managed to whisper.

“That’s not how we ask for something, is it, darling?” Jamie teased, a devilish glint in his eyes as two of his fingers pressed into you, agonisingly slow.

“Please,” you whimpered, “I need… I want more, please, Jamie.”

Jamie chuckled, his thumb now replacing his mouth on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He stood back up, towering over you before leaning down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself as he did so.

“I’ve missed hearing you beg,” he whispered, “come on, sweetheart, let go for me. I know you're close.”

He was right. You swore he knew your body better than you did.

You could feel the knot in your belly tightening, getting ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re making such a mess, y’know that? My messy girl, can feel you dripping down my hand,” you could tell what he was doing, he was trying to push you to the edge, he knew what effect his words had on you, and he was taking advantage of that, “that’s it, angel. You can do it, cum for me.”

And that did it.

Your head was thrown back, your thighs trying to close around him as he continued to work you through your orgasm. The moans falling from your lips were muffled by his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

His fingers slipped out of you and he reached for your thighs, his slick coated fingers leaving your skin sticky as he pressed his body against yours, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you towards the bed.

As your back hit the mattress, he began to undress. You took off your ruined underwear before you reached for your dress, to slip it off, but he called out to stop you.

“Hey, leave it on. It looks so fucking sexy.” He growled, unbuckling his belt to let his trousers fall to the ground.

He kneeled on the bed and shuffled his way between your legs, holding them open for him as he leaned down to kiss you once again.

“Jamie, please.” You whined, lifting your hips to try and get him to do something.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold back, darling. It’s been a while since I’ve…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as you reach your hand between your bodies, palming his hard cock through his boxers.

He grabs your wrists, his fingers digging into the skin sure to leave bruises for you to look back on in the days to come.

“I didn’t tell you that you could touch, now, did I?” His eyes had darkened with need and lust, and the way his face twisted into a devilish smile made a whimper slip from your lips. “So desperate for me, aren’t you baby. I knew all those years ago I had ruined you for any other man, this just proves it, hm?”

With one hand pinning your arms above your head, the other one comes down to drag his thumb over your bottom lip, before you welcome him into your mouth, gently sucking on the tip of his thumb.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “keep your hands here, okay? I know you will, you’re my good girl, right?”

You nod your head and manage to say a muffled ‘yes’ as his thumb presses down on your tongue as he uses his now spare hand to push his boxers down, letting his cock free from its restraints.

He wastes no time, swiping his fingers over your slick, spreading it over his dick before pumping himself a couple times. His breathing is heavy as he lines himself up with you, your hips squirming as you wait for him to finally push in, but he takes his time teasing you beforehand. When the tip finally slips into you, you both let out a moan and his head falls forwards, buried where your neck meets your shoulder.

It’s clear that neither of you have had any action lately, as you both need to take a moment before Jamie begins to move. You dig your nails into the pillow as he begins to slowly move his hips.

His hand that was once over your mouth trails down and rests on your neck, applying a little pressure as your eyes fall shut. You feel how his cock slides into you, nudging spots inside you that made you shiver. He would pull back out until only the tip was left inside, before fucking back into you, getting progressively rougher.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” He said before leaning down to capture your lips with his.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping your hands planted above your head as you melted into the kiss. You took advantage of the use of your legs, if you couldn’t touch him with your hands.

One of Jamie’s hands slid between your bodies to find your clit again, using his thumb to try and bring you the edge, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. In the past, you and Jamie went maybe 2 or 3 rounds sometimes in one night. However, it was different tonight. You hadn't seen each other in a long time, let alone had sex.

His pace began to quicken, his thrusts getting rougher and rougher. He buried his face in your neck once more and you couldn’t help but tangle your fingers into his hair, gently tugging on the blonde locks.

“Shit,” he gasped, masked by a dark chuckle as he kissed your neck.

“J-Jamie…” Your mind was too clouded by everything to even think about forming a proper sentence, but Jamie knew you and your body better than you knew yourself, and vice versa.

You knew he was getting close by the way his cock twitched inside you. Your grasp on his hair tightened as you felt your high getting closer and closer.

“Inside.” Was the final word you managed to mutter into his ear before you came undone, your legs locking around him, making sure he wouldn’t pull out before you came down from your high.

As you were beginning to catch your breath, your muscles relaxing as you lay there blissed out, felt him twitch in you once more, cumming inside you with a moan, followed by your name. You rocked your hips as he stilled inside of you, milking his cock of every last drop.

“Fuck,” he groaned, follow by a chuckle as he smiled lazily down at you, “you don’t understand how much I’ve missed you.”

#jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie campbell bower smut #jamie bower x reader #jamie bower smut #jcb #counterfeit jamie <3 #jamie campbell bower x reader

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obsessedelusional · 1 year

Text

Oblivious

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x fem!reader

summary ✦ Bella and you have been friends for a few years now. Didn’t take long for them to a form a crush on you. While visiting after not seeing you for a while, they decide it’s time to come clean about their feeling. Too afraid, they keep dropping hints. What happens when Bella finally finds the courage to tell you?

word count ✦ 2,000ish

authors note ✦ THANKS for all the love <33

masterlist

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“So who’s your celebrity crush then?” Bella asks her best friend of years, intentionally after talking openly about their celebrity crush. You share a striking resemblance too, hoping maybe this information would spark something in you. Your too oblivious to connect the dots.

“Hmm…. Right now?” You pause in a attempt to shuffle through all the random celebrities you’ve found attractive.

“Probably Kristen Stewart.” Bella is surprised by you answer.

“Kristen Stewart?” They ask, slack jawed.

“Yeah I rewatched all the twilight movies last week. I used to be team Edward but now I think I’m team Bella. It’s actually absurd that we let those men get away with everything they did.” You explain, going off on a tangent about Twilight. Bella half listens, trying to understand if you said Kristen because you might be gay or because you liked twilight.

“She has a whole ass fiancé, I’m shit out of luck.” You sigh dramatically before going back to your phone. Bella forces a laugh, more confused than when they started this conversation.

“But doesn’t matter, I got my own Bella.” You tease with a wink unknowingly adding to Bella’s distress.

“Edward was a creep, a whole ass stalker. Imagine if she woke up when Edward broke in to bedroom to watch her sleep. If my boyfriend did that shit, he’d get kicked to the curb so quick.” Bella groans out loud on accident causing you to look up from your phone.

“Okay I know you don’t like him but-“ You speak quickly interrupted.

“Yeah cause he’s a dick. Way worse than Edward Cullen ever was.”

“First of all, you’ve never seen twilight. Second of all, I don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone I’ve ever dated.” You respond, your tone sassy. Bella doesn’t respond only because she cannot pretend why she’s never liked your new boyfriends. Your “love” for them never lasted long, moving onto the next one with ease. They wished desperately you’d forget about the male population as a whole.

“It’s because I like you.” Bella says, not entirely registering the words as they come out.

“I like care about you, you deserve someone better.” Nice save, Bella thinks. Internally screaming to themself you deserve them.

“Aww I like care about you,” you respond sarcasm heavy on your voice, eyes on your phone. Bella rolls her eyes in response. That’s one thing Bella loved so badly about you, you were just as sarcastic and could always banter with you. More often than not they couldn’t keep up with your attitude.

Bella was in town for a few weeks, break between their filming. She had missed you so much the l last few months, promising her self she was gonna do something about it this time. When it’s time for the two of you to part, Bella steals on you hoodies.

“Where the fuck are you going with that?” You ask mostly joking, when you notice.

“I want it,” Bella argues. Not wanting to admit that she’s been stealing from you on the low. Just taking little things, now and then. Nothing you’d ever miss but it means everything to Bella. To have a piece of you while she’s off on her job related adventures. Sometimes even using your shirt as a pillow case when they really miss you.

—

Bella had a plan to tell you how they felt the next day. Before you spring going to a party’s with you. Bella was older than you, you just graduated high school. Still caught up in the high school bullshit. Thankfully they were visiting during your summer vacation before you headed off to university.

“These are for you.” Bella barley whispers, handing you the bouquet of flowers. Your favorite ones. After you sprung the party on them, they decided they’d just do it before. Maybe it would be enough to convince you to stay in with them instead.

“Thanks bestie,” you respond. Bestie? Bella groans internally, discouraged by your friendly pet name. Chickening out on their original plans, mentally throwing out the monologue they had planned for you.

“I saw them and thought of you.” Bella admits.

Once in Bella’s car, they purposefully play Jenny by Studio Killers. Signing along passionately, hoping maybe you’d hear the lyrics and they’d resonate with you. The songs about a girl having a crush on her best friend. You just nod along, never commenting on the subject of it. Bella doesn’t show it but they irritation is growing. Wanting nothing more than to spill their feelings for you, always coming up short when it’s time to do so.

—

“Do we really have to go?” Bella whines only to stop when you grab their hand and pull them closer to the door. Once at the door, you face Bella your back to the door.

“It’s just a little kickback, maybe 20 people tops. You’ll be okay! I’ll be by your side the whole time. I promise.” You reassure Bella and they let out a defeated sigh. A small laugh leaves your mouth bringing a smile to Bellas. The door swings open, some dude from your school attempting to leave. He pushes past the two of you, not saying a single word.

“Rude.” You mutter under you breath, leading Bella inside. Finding some of your friends, introducing them to Bella. Bella’s wondering what the fuck she’s doing here? Oh yeah because you asked and that’s all it took. They couldn’t say no especially when you start pouting, eyes staring directly into Bella’s.

“Sorry I really thought it’d be smaller.” You apologize to Bella some time later, the two of you sat in a group of friends and strangers. Bella doesn’t drink so you don’t either, watching everyone get drunk without the two of you.

“We should do something. Play a game.” Someone suggests, everyone agrees.

“We should play spin the bottle.” Some suggests, most people agree. You look over to Bella who’s shaking their head no.

“I think I’ll sit this one out.” Bella says, standing up going to sit out of the group. Still close enough to be part of the conversation but not in the immediate circle.

“You playing?” Some drunk dude asks you. You look over to Bella who just gives you a smile.

“I guess so.” You say, thinking it’ll be a funny story to tell someday.

“Fuck yeah,” he responds. You sit and wait as one of your friends finds a bottle lays in the center of the group all while explains the rules. A player spins the bottle, and must kiss the person to whom the bottle points when it stops spinning. You watch as people take turns, watching as people kiss. Most kisses only last a few seconds. It’s almost your turn, the girl before you spins the bottle. Landing on the boy next to you, she giggles before reaching over you to kiss him. Their kiss is more aggressive than the others, lasting much longer. People cheering them on as they continue.

“I don’t think I’m gonna live up to that performance.” You joke, as they pull away from each other. Nervously you spin the bottle, following it with your eyes as it spins in a circle. It lands on a girl, you barley know. Before you can say anything people are chanting for y’all to just do it.

“I mean if she’s down I’m down.” The girl shrugs her shoulders, looking at you for a response.

“Sure?” you say and for whatever reason it comes out as a question. She starts crawling towards you, when she’s only a few inches away from your face a voice interrupts the moment.

“What about your boyfriend?” It’s Bella speaking. She didn’t care about your boyfriend, using that as an excuse to make you not want to participate in this game anymore.

“What about him? Like you said he’s a dick.” You respond, looking back at the girl sat in front of you waiting for a kiss. Cheering resumes as you two get closer.

“Absolutely not.” Bella speaks over the loud noises, pulling you from the floor with a strength you didn’t know existed. Dragging you through the crowd, straight out the front door. Sounds of booing is all you can hear as you leave.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, once Bella lets go of you hand. Bella paces back and forth, it’s obvious they want to say something but can’t get it out.

“You’re my best friend. I couldn’t let you do that.” Bella speaks, pacing coming to a stop to face you.

“Actually I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” Bella says, breaking your heart.

“All because I was going to kiss that girl?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

“Oh my fucking god. Do you listen like ever? How much more obvious do I have to be?” They ask, louder than before.

“What-“ Your cut off by Bella’s hands cupping your face in swift motion affectionately placing their lips on yours, you move your lips with theirs. Letting your arms fall to your sides. You’re the one to pull away, overwhelmed by all the feelings that came out in that moment.

“I understand if you’re mad at me. But I would of rather died than watch you have your first kiss with a woman not be me.” Bella says before you can fully process what just happened.

“I ruined our friendship.” They say, attempting to read your reaction but your speechless unable to comprehend.

“No you didn’t,” you respond.

“I want to ruin our friendship. I like you.” Bella speaks.

“I like you too.”

“No I like like like you.” Bella says, emphasizing on the last two likes.

“Do you listen like ever?” You ask, mocking their tone when they said that you moments ago.

“I like you.” You say again, emphasis on like. Bella’s eyes narrow on you, looking you in your eyes.

“So if I kissed you again? You wouldn’t stop?” They smirk.

“I don’t know, try me.” You tease, chewing on your lip. They do exactly that, pulling you into their embrace before kissing you for the second time.

—

After a heavy make out session, in the front lawn of that party you guys head back to Bella’s car. This time they open your door, something Bella has never done before. Stealing a kiss in the process then making their way to the drivers side. Once in there’s a silence between you two, sinking in what just happened. They make the drive home, no words are exchanged. Half way there, their hand rests on your thigh giving it a squeeze before going back to driving. You don’t even realize until it’s too late to turn back but Bella’s pulling into their apartment. This was not the original plan but plans change. Parking in their normal parking space.

“How long have you had feelings?” You ask as soon as the car shuts off.

“Oof,” they think out loud.

“Since forever basically.” They admit.

“Same.” You admit causing Bella’s jaw to drop.

“There’s absolutely no way that is possible.” Bella says, not believing you in the slightest.

“We met right before your career really started to take off. I didn’t think it was right to throw that on you while you were out there living your best life.” You explain.

“My best life would of been you by my side, I can’t believe we wasted so many years.” Bella sighs, frustrated.

“We’ll I guess we’re just gonna have to make up for lost time,” You smile, intertwining your fingers with theirs. Playing with the rings they always wore, something you loved about them.

“We better get started, only have two weeks and six days to make up for three years.” Bella grins before instructing you to get out of the car. You do so and Bella meets you outside of the passenger door. Pushing you softly into the side of the car, kissing you in the process. Hands waisting no time explore your body, taking you by surprise. You had never imagined Bella being so forward.

“Where’s this boldness coming from?” You ask when you pull away to breath.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said, we need to make up for all those lost years.” They grin, leading you towards their front door. Your excitement grows as they lead you toward their bedroom, ready to let Bella do whatever they want.

#bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey pov #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey #bella ramsey oneshot #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey imagine

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alisonwritesimagines · 2 years

Text

Sad Endings, New Beginnings ~Batfamily Imagine~

Summary: Bruce, Alfred, and Dick comfort you after losing Jason to Joker.

Author’s Note: Angsty imagine because I'm in an angsty mood.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: mentions of character death, depression, angst, lots of angst, happy ending

BatFamily Masterlist

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

You sat in Jason’s room as you stared blankly at the wall. Your hands clutched onto Jason’s favorite hoodie in your hands as you sat on his bed. Bruce stood by the door frame with Alfred as the two watched you. This was the fifth day in the row that they found you sitting in Jason's old room, staring at nothing. But waiting for him to come back.

“How is she?” Dick asked as he walked over to the two. Bruce called Dick when he noticed that you weren't getting better.

Ever since Bruce told you about Jason’s death, you haven’t been the same. You stayed quiet and coped up in Jason’s room ever since the news. You cried every night, hoping for some kind of miracle that would bring him back to you.

“Not so well. Why don’t you go talk to her?” Bruce tells him. Dick nodded before walking inside the room.

“Hey mom. It’s me. Dick.”

You looked over at your oldest before wrapping your arms around his neck. You sobbed silently in his shoulder as he hugged you back.

“Stay for a while, Dick. Please,” you asked.

“Of course mom. Are you hungry? Alfred's making your favorite food. I'll sit next to you if you'd like at dinner," Dick offered.

"Okay," you whispered softly.

Bruce sat across the table as he watched Dick talk to you. You stayed quiet but at least you were finally eating a full meal. Alfred had joined them as well to make sure you ate.

"I need to go patrolling but we can have a mother and son day soon if you like," Dick offered.

"That sounds nice," you nodded.

That night, you fell asleep on Jason’s bed. Bruce walked into the room before picking you up from the bed. You woke up quickly in a panic as you looked around.

“Jason!?” You called out.

“Darling, it’s me. It’s me,” Bruce tells you. You looked around at the dark room before crying again.

“I miss him so much,” you cried.

“I know. I know,” Bruce said as he carried you back to your room.

You cuddled close to Jason’s hoodie as you lay in bed. Bruce lay next to you, holding you in his arms. You had fallen back to sleep quickly due to your crying.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Bruce said as he held you tighter.

For the next few weeks, Dick and Alfred were doing their best to help distract you from the pain again. Alfred had made you a healthy breakfast while Dick talked to you about the plans he had today with you.

“We’re gonna have fun together mom. I promise,” Dick tells you.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you tell him.

Dick took you over to a carnival that was in town. After going on a few rides and having some junk food, Dick decided to try to win you a stuffed toy that was on a game booth.

“I enjoyed this. Thank you Dick,” you smiled softly at your son.

“You know I’m here for you mom. I’ll come visit more. I promise,” Dick tells you.

“Thank you sweetie. Let’s go home now. I’m feeling tired,” you tell him.

“Okay. Yeah. Let’s go.”

When the two of you got home, you found Bruce over in the Batcave. You walked over to him as he stared at Jason’s Robin costume.

“Did you have a good time with Dick?” Bruce asked, not looking over at you.

Bruce knew that Jason's death was his fault. If he had been more careful, more protective, Jason's death would have never happened.

“I did. Bruce, I can’t handle any more heartbreak. Can you promise me something?” You asked him. Bruce looked over at you as you got closer.

“Of course.”

“Please protect any other child we may have with everything you have. I can’t bare to lose another one,” you tell him.

“I promise,” Bruce said as he kissed your head. He wrapped his arms around you before holding you closer to him.

“I’ll do better for not only us but for any more children we may have,” Bruce tells you.

"It hurts so much," you sobbed a little.

"I know. I know."

---

It had been a couple of months but you were slowly getting back to your normal self. Your smile came back a little more but you still missed your son's presence around.

"Miss Y/n. Master Bruce has come back. He is requesting to see you," Alfred said as he found you in the living room.

"Okay."

You headed down to the Batcave where you saw Bruce with a young tween standing next to him. You looked over at the tween before looking over at your husband.

"Who's this?" You asked.

"You're Y/n Wayne! Or formally, Y/n L/n. You're Bruce's wife huh? You're prettier in person you know," the tween said happily.

"This is Tim Drake. He wants to become the new Robin," Bruce explained to you. You looked down at Tim with a small smile.

"Are you sure you want to become Robin?"

"Yeah. Bruce looks like he needs the help," Tim tells you. You let out a small laugh before nodding in agreement.

"He needs the help doesn't he?" You agreed. Bruce smiled softly at you.

"Why don't you help show Tim around the manor and I'll join you both for dinner soon?" Bruce offered.

"Okay. Come on Tim. Tell me about yourself," you tell him as you walked him out of the Batcave.

#batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batmom #batmom imagine #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #tim drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #dc #dc imagine

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lunajay33 · 10 days

Text

New World🍂Part.12

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?

Warnings: This chapter contains light sh if you’re not comfortable don’t interact

Part.11

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since I was shot and things have been off with Daryl and I, I could tell he felt nervous around me and we’ve barely talked but even though it hurt when he left he came back and that counts……..right? Plus I missed how he’d cuddle me at night and call me those sweet names

I got out of bed and went out to see Daryl working on his bike, I sat down on the bike as he looked up at me from the engine

“Hey” I said nervous

“Hey”

“Can we talk?”

He put his tools and rag down and looked up at me with squinted eyes from the sun beating down on us

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant or if I was mean, it just really hurt when you left Daryl, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you how much I love you, what you mean to me, I can’t lose you”

“Ya ain’t got nothin ta be sorry for, I shoulda never left the moment I left and it settled I knew I shoulda gone with ya, and when I got back seein ya shot again I couldn’t stop blaming myself, I’ll never leave again i mean it” he said running his hands up and down my thighs

“I love you Daryl but……Don’t blame yourself for me getting hurt, you know I hate it when you put those burdens on yourself”

“Maybe not the gunshot but……..ya hurt herself cause of me, that’s my fault” my heart sank at that

“You……..you saw”

“Course, me and Hershel cleaned em”

“Sorry” I said looking down ashamed

“Ya gotta swear ya ain’t gonna do that again”

I nodded as he stood pulling me into his chest holding me tight, it felt so good to be in his arms again, I wrapped my arms around his waist breathing in the smoky smell that comforted me

Daryl helped me get over my depression as best he could, showing me that I could trust him and he wouldn’t leave again over the next few days

But now Merle was back with us and it made things tense with the group but I always made sure Daryl didn’t get caught in the middle knowing how hard that was on him

Things escalated over the week they’ve been back Merle told us we should leave and then him and Michonne go missing

“Where the hell are they?” Daryl groaned as we looked all over the prison for them

“Why would they be together?” I asked confused

“He’s gonna take her back to the governor, as a peace offerin……damn it” he started running out to his bike and I was quick to follow

“Where are you going?” I asked as he started up the bike

“I gotta get to em before they get there”

“I’ll come with you”

“I can’t risk ya out there”

“You promised Daryl, I’m coming with you”

“Fine then we’re goin on foot to not attract anythin” he said grabbing my hand and we were off

Running through neighbourhood sand forests we found Michonne alone telling us Merle let her go, we got to an industrial area filled with cyloes and rusty old machinery

“Do you think he might be here?” I asked looking around but only seeing walkers

He shrugged his shoulders continuing to lead me through the abandoned equipment until we came across a walker feasting on a clearly freshly killed person but that’s when we noticed

It’s Merle……..he’s dead, I heard the whimpers from Daryl as he swayed back and worth dropping his bow

Merle noticed us coming over to try and finish us off too until Daryl shoved him back, crying realizing his brother was dead when he just got him back, I placed my hand on Daryl’s shoulder pulling him back

“I’ve got it D” I said taking out my knife not wanting Daryl to have to kill his brother, I pushed Merle down to the ground, pushing my knife into the back of his head ceasing his movement, he was gone now fully gone

I ran over to Daryl where he was curled up on the ground crying, it hurt me to see him cry especially since he never does, I pulled him against me so he could let it all out

“I’m so sorry baby” I said feeling the tears well up in my own eyes

He didn’t say anything but continued to cry for an hour until he settled still gripping my shirt

“What do you want me to do for you D?” I asked as he looked up at me from my lap

“Wanna go home” that was enough for me to find a car, got wire it and drive us back home

The drive back was silent, I didn’t expect him to talk, I know he needs his time and being silent is his way of coping, when we got back he went up to a watch tower and the others gave me a look

“Just……..leave him alone for today” and they all let him be, going back to working around the courtyard

I went inside our block to get some water and a snack for him knowing he neglects necessities when he’s going through something, I went up in the watch tower sitting next to him leaning on the railing so our legs dangled over the edge

“Here i brought you something” I said placing the food and water down next to him

He looked at it and looked back out over the courtyard “thanks”

I sat there all night long with him until he moved so his head was resting in my lap so I could play with his hair hoping it was helping

“Peach?” He finally spoke

“Yeah D?”

“I wanna have that baby” my heart stopped

“Are you sure? I thought…..you said it was too risky”

“Life’s too short, I wanna experience what I can with ya, I want that family we’ve dreamed ‘bout”

“I’m ready whenever you’re ready Daryl but I want you to just relax for now, get some sleep my love”

It’s been a few months and lots have changed, the governor abandoned his people at Woodbury and we took the rest in creating space for them, I was wary of them since they weren’t my family and I didn’t know if I could trust them so I kept my distance, Daryl did too for the most part

“Hey, wanna get some food?” Daryl asked as I was tending to our garden

“Sure!” I said as he took my hand helping me up

“How lil asskicker doin?” He asked as he placed a protective hand over my belly

“They’re doing fine, I can’t wait to meet them” we didn’t know if it was a boy or girl but I knew Daryl was secretly hoping for a little girl

“Me too sunshine”

Everything felt like it was falling into place, I just hope nothing ruins this

Part.13

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moonlustav · 27 days

Text

-The Gardenerೀ��｡🌷

Dino x Mingyu

(Reposted from Ao3)

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, Gay sex, Shower sex, semi-public sex, Rimming, Fingering, Anal sex, Unprotected sex, Creampie

———

The floral scent of the countryside wafted through the air, casting a sweet aroma that filled Chan’s nose as acres of lush green fields zoomed by. He held his hand out the car window, enjoying the summer breeze blowing through his fingers, the sky perfectly blue and the sun beating down.

“You missed home?” his father asked, seated in the driver's seat next to him.

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s nice to be out of the city,” Chan replied with a smile.

“Well it’s definitely nice to have you here for the summer.”

“I’m glad to be back. Has the place changed much since last year?”

“Nope it’s just as you left it. Although the garden has improved a lot since the new gardener started working.”

“Oh, what happened to Mr. Kim?”

“He retired, his grandson now looks after the yard. He’s around your age actually. Maybe you two will get along.”

“Dad, just because we’re similar in age doesn’t mean we’re gonna be besties.”

“Alright, alright. But you better be friendly with him cause you're gonna be seeing him quite a bit. He’s staying in the guest house out back.”

“What, why?”

“The nearest town is an hour and half commute. It just makes the most sense for him to stay at the house since he’s tending the garden five days a week.”

Chan groaned in response. It’ll be so awkward having some stranger around the house the whole summer. The idea of having to make uncomfortable small talk and not being able to fully relax stressed him out.

“Come on, it’s not a big deal. He’s a nice kid. We’ll still have a good time.”

“I know, I know.” Chan smiled back softly.

They soon pulled into the stone paved driveway of the quaint country cabin painted blue. There wasn’t another house for at least a mile, so all that surrounded the home was endless fields of grass. The garden did look beautiful. The cottage was surrounded in a veil of plants and flowers that were neatly taken care of. Shades of green, pink, purple, yellow and white were scattered all around, some growing taller than Chan’s height.

“Home sweet home,” his father said as he parked the car in the driveway and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Chan grabbed his backpack from the backseat and hopped out of the car, popping open the trunk and grabbing his suitcase from inside. As he shut the trunk and began to head to the house, the sight of someone caught his eye.

Shrouded in the bushes up on the small hill to the right of the house was a tall, young man clipping away at the weeds. His muscular upper body was bare, his skin a golden tan and dripping in sweat. He was wearing only a pair of low rise blue jeans that hung just below his waist. His pecs were firm and juicy, and his biceps were strong and thick, his abs impossibly ripped with a sharp v-cut near his hips. He was beautiful. Truly gorgeous. The way the sun shined down on him giving him an angelic, heavenly appearance. It practically took Chan’s breath away. He was frozen in place, mesmerized by the sight of the stunning stranger. Was he the new gardener? Was he the one who would be staying with them for the whole summer? How was he going to be able to control himself around someone who looked like that? He watched as the young man stood up straight, taking a breath and running his fingers through his light brown hair.

“Chan!” His father called out from the front door of the house, pulling him out of his infatuated state.

“Oh, coming!” he responded back, taking one last look at the handsome stranger. The man glanced down at him and gave him a smile as he began walking to the house. But Chan was too flustered to smile back, whipping his gaze to the ground and pretending not to have seen him.

“Was that the gardener?” Chan asked his father once inside.

“Oh, did you see Mingyu?”

“Yeah I think so.”

“He should be just finishing up his work on the garden. I’ll introduce you two later.” Chan nodded as he slid off his shoes.

The home had a soft, cozy feel to it, the living room and kitchen connected in one open space with a small corridor in the back that led to the two bedrooms on either side, and out to the back patio. The couch was a light tan with a stripped tapestry laying over the back and a wooden coffee table in front of it. There were several photos hung on the walls, some of baby Chan and an assortment of pretty landscapes and sunsets.

He headed down the corridor to his bedroom, setting his suitcase by his desk and his backpack on his bed. The room was exactly the same as it was when he was a kid, stuffed animals sitting on the window sill, drawings he drew in primary school plastered all over the wall, his moon shaped night light sitting on his side table. It made him a little emotional reminiscing on the carefree, innocent times he had in this room.

He was taken out of this state when he heard the creaky back door open and the sound of heavy boots begin walking along the hardwood floor. “Alright, Mr. Lee, I think I’m done for the day,” Chan heard a voice say, catching a glimpse of Mingyu strolling past his bedroom.

“Okay, thanks Mingyu, appreciate your hard work,” he heard his father reply as he cautiously stepped out of his room and down the corridor.

“Oh Mingyu, this is my son Chan,” his father said, gesturing towards him. Chan gave him a soft smile as he stepped into the living room.

Mingyu now adorned a tight white tank top on his upper body, the thin fabric dampened with sweat making his nipples and the outline of his chest visible for the eye to see. His hair looked moist and disheveled, but in a kinda sexy movie star way that left Chan breathless. Mingyu stepped towards him with a bright smile, reaching out for a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh uh- thanks, it’s nice to meet you too,” Chan stuttered, barely keeping eye contact as he took the other boy’s hand. Mingyu’s grasp was strong and firm, Chan’s whole arm shaking as he shook his hand.

“Chan just got back from his University in Seoul,” his father said.

“Oh cool. How do you feel about being in the countryside for a while?” Mingyu asked, placing his hands on his hips.

“Umm it’ll be nice I guess,” Chan replied awkwardly.

“Ahh come on, we’ll have a blast,” Mingyu said, playfully slapping Chan’s shoulder. “Alright, well I should probably shower and get in some fresh clothes. Will you need any help with the dinner Mr. Lee?”

“Oh no that’s okay Mingyu. Thanks for offering,” Mr. Lee responded. Mingyu nodded, giving Chan a smile as he stepped around and sauntered out towards the back door

“He’s eating dinner with us?” Chan asked his father in an annoyed whisper once he left.

“Of course he is. You think I’m gonna let him eat all alone in that tiny guest house?” His father responded. “Come on Chan he’s a good kid, there’s no reason you can't be friendly.”

Chan huffed, lifeless flopping himself down on the couch beside him.

***

“I’ll just be gone till Monday,” Chan’s father had said to him.

“Do you really have to go? It’s gonna be awkward here with just me and Mingyu.”

“Son, you two will be fine. I just have to finish up some stuff at work before I can take the rest of the summer off. It’s just two days, you have nothing to worry about.”

But it turns out he did have something to worry about. It was uncomfortably hot this time of year, and of course the A/C had stopped working the day after his dad had left. It was a restless night, the heat making it impossible to lay comfortably, even after discarding the sheets and stripping completely naked. He groaned as he rolled over onto his stomach, his eyes half shut as he looked out the window beside his bed, gazing out at the back patio and the quaint guest house veiled in the morning sunlight. There was an abundant array of flowers planted all throughout the yard, tulips in the window sill, lilies in pots near the guest house, rose bushes wildly growing throughout the space. An oak tree stood tall to the left of the house and stone tiles laid on the ground creating a path between the two houses.

He wondered what Mingyu was doing, if he was still asleep or already up gardening away, if he was dressed in that sexy white singlet of his or if he chose not to bare a shirt at all. He began to imagine what it would be like snuggled in Mingyu’s strong arms, being held tightly in the heat of grasp, his warm skin pressed against his. A man who looked as good as Mingyu must be good in bed. He probably had an endless stamina and a cock as thick as a soda can. He instinctively began to roll his hips as his thoughts became dirtier, grinding his morning wood against the soft sheets and taking in the arousing stimulation of the friction. He moaned softly as he rocked his body harder, picturing Mingyu all sweaty on top of him, grinding and breathing hot against his skin, fucking him until his knees gave out. His cock was already leaking, sandwiched between his stomach and the mattress. His bed creaked with his movements, arching his back and thrusting his hips at an increasingly vigorous pace.

He was distracted when he heard the sound of the guest house door opening, sitting up and watching as Mingyu stepped outside. He clearly had just woken, his hair was in a fluffy mess on his head and his eyes were squinting in agony as the sunlight shined down on him. Still though, his face looked just as ethereal as it always did, his soft plump lips, his razor sharp jaw, his impossibly clear complexion. But it was the boy's lower body that had Chan practically gasping for breath. He wore nothing but a pair of tight white briefs that left almost nothing to the imagination, a towel draped over his right shoulder and a pair of Adidas slides on his feet. His physique was unreal, his upper body toned and glossy and his thighs thick and creamy. His underwear hung low around his waist, the top of his pubes peeking out of the hem and his firm morning wood pushing against the fabric, creating a large tent in his briefs.

Chan was right. Mingyu was big, like really big. He watched with awe as the boy walked along the stone tile path over to the outdoor shower on the left of the guest house. He was almost vibrating at the thought of seeing Mingyu shower, picturing his naked body all wet and soapy, his hands running up and down his silky skin. He watched as the tall boy opened the wooden door to the shower stall and stepped inside, sliding off his slides and hanging his towel on the hook. With his back to Chan, Mingyu turned on the shower and slipped his fingers in the hem of his briefs, stripping them down to his ankles.

Chan’s breath hitched once Mingyu’s tight muscle butt was revealed to the world, his ass cheeks a juicy golden tan, looking so deliciously creamy. He felt his cock throb at the sight of the boy’s naked backside, praying and hoping he would turn around and give him a good look at the front. To his disappointment, Mingyu quickly shut the wooden door and latched it closed, his body becoming hidden from Chan’s view. All he could see was the boy’s bare feet from beneath the door and the shower water trickling down.

But it was only a few seconds later that the water had stopped, the shower door opening and Mingyu stepping back out with his towel loosely draped around his waist. Chan watched as he scurried along the stone tile path towards the main house, hearing the creaky backdoor open up down the hall. What was he doing? Why was he coming in here?

“Hey Chan? Sorry to bother you.” Mingyu’s muffled voice said moments later from behind his bedroom door.

Chan jumped up off his bed with a fright. “Oh- coming.” he said in a phony polite voice. He got down on the floor to search for something to cover him up, regrettably deciding on a pair of tight black briefs that barely concealed anything.

“Chan, are you awake?” Mingyu continued as Chan pulled up his underwear.

“Yeah, yeah one second,” he yelled out, scurrying to the door. He opened up to a half naked Mingyu, his hair and skin still damp from the shower and his towel hanging low around his hips. It was hard to keep his gaze from traveling downward, but almost harder to keep eye contact with someone who had a face like Mingyu’s.

“Hey sorry did I wake you?” he asked in a low voice.

“No it’s fine I was already up,” Chan responded in a groggy voice, trying his best to not sound flustered. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to see if I could borrow a bar of soap, cause there isn’t any in the outdoor shower.”

“Oh yeah- sure. I’ll go grab one.” He stuttered as he awkwardly stepped around Mingyu on his way to the bathroom. It wasn’t until the side of his chest brushed up against the other boy’s arm that he realized how little of himself was covered, his morning wood still firm and bouncing in his underwear with each step. Chan flipped on the light as he walked into the bathroom, opening up the cabinet next to the sink.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, I really appreciate it.” Mingyu said, leaning against the side of the doorway with his arms crossed.

“It’s fine,” Chan responded as he restlessly searched for a bar of soap. He could sense Mingyu’s presence looming next to him. It was uncomfortably awkward. His anxiety was telling him to get out as soon as possible. But he also wanted to savor every moment he could as he didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance to be this close to Mingyu almost naked.

“Do you workout Chan?” Mingyu asked abruptly.

“What- uh, a little bit.”

“It looks like you do, you have a great physique.”

“Really?” Chan asked with an awkward scoff as he bent down and began rummaging through the cabinet under the sink.

“Seriously, your arms and chest are built great,” Mingyu commented looking down at him. “And your thighs and ass too. You’re thick as hell.”

Chan’s breath hitched as he heard those words leave Mingyu’s mouth, his skin burning and sweating more than it already was. He could sense Mingyu’s eyes leering at his backside, making him feel even more self conscious. His briefs rode up his thighs higher as he dug deeper into the cabinet, more of skin becoming revealed. The thought of Mingyu staring at his ass made his dick throb. It was humiliating, so perverted. But a part of him liked it. A part of him wanted the other boy to keep looking, stepping in closer and ripping his underwear down past his-

“Ah here- found it,” he cheered, grabbing an unwrapped bar of soap from the back of the cabinet, standing up and handing it out to Mingyu. The other boy stared back at him boldly, lips curled in a devilish smirk, pausing before taking the soap from his hand.

“It looks like there are other parts of your body that are thick as well,” Mingyu purred, looking down at the tent in Chan’s briefs. His cheeks turned red at the realization of how obvious his boner was, embarrassment washing over him.

“Oh my god!” He threw his hands over his crotch in shame. He wanted to run and hide and never come out. But he couldn’t move, his body frozen in place and shaking with fear.

Mingyu chuckled, stepping in closer and biting down on his lip. “Don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s hot.”

“You, what?” Chan’s breath hitched, keeping his gaze down at his chest.

Mingyu gestured to the boy’s groin. “Can I?”

“Can you…what?”

“Touch it, will you let me touch it Channie?” Mingyu’s voice was soft and breathy, pressing his forehead to Chan’s and lifting the boy’s chin so their eyes made contact. Their lips were so close, their bodies only inches apart, chests heaving and sweat dripping. Mingyu placed his other hand on the boy’s wrist, causing Chan to instinctively move his hands away and allow him access.

“Okay,” Chan whispered back, a soft moan leaving his lips when Mingyu grasped his bulge and gave it a squeeze. His touch was just right, so tight and warm against him, sending a shiver up his spine. He felt Mingyu’s breath brush against his face and his manly scent fill his nose. His eyes were shut tight, his body tense and stiff as a statue.

“Relaxe Chan?” Mingyu purred, tracing his fingers along the entirety of his cock and wrapping his arm around his waist. Chan melted into his grasp, easing his muscles and letting Mingyu explore his body.

“Mhmm, f-feels good,” Chan hummed, getting lost in the stimulation as Mingyu’s movements increased.

“Hm, I bet it does.” He swirled his finger around the sensitive head, feeling the fabric dampen with pre-cum. “I lied by the way.”

“About what?” Chan breathed out, distracted by the way Mingyu caressed his bulge.

“About the soap. I didn’t need to borrow any,” he whispered in Chan’s ear, his fingers traveling up to the hem of his briefs, slowly and carefully slipping them inside.

“Nnng, wait,” Chan blurted out, pushing Mingyu’s hand away.

“Too fast?” Mingyu lifted his hand off his waist, taking a step back.

“No it’s just… I don't think this is a good idea. I mean you work for my dad and everything.”

Mingyu exhaled, placing his hands to his side. “Hmm, okay okay. I understand.” They stood awkwardly for a moment before Mingyu turned to walk away. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he stood in the doorway looking back at him with a mischievous expression. His towel became undone as he walked down the hall towards the back door, his delicious backside becoming revealed to Chan’s eyes.

Chan bit his lip. “Mingyu,” he called out.

And only seconds later they found themselves beneath the outdoor shower raining down, bodies pressed together, Chan’s bottom lip sucked between Mingyu’s lips. The water felt cool against their naked skin, moaning into each other’s mouths, tongues sloppily rubbing together. Mingyu was the one who took charge, holding Chan like a doll in his arms. He was hungry for stimulation, grinding their hard cocks together as the kiss became deeper. It was sizzling, being up against Mingyu’s naked body like this, his tongue furiously exploring his mouth, his hands squeezing the jiggly flesh of his ass. Chan was completely lost in the moment, hypnotized by Mingyu’s lips and the way his hands traveled up and down his body.

He was startled when Mingyu boldly pushed him up against the wooden shower wall, skillfully sucking down on his bottom lip and rolling his hips so the tip of their cocks teasingly rubbed together. He hadn't gotten a good look at Mingyu’s length, but he could feel how big he was as it stroked against his abdomen, grinding against it so he could feel every inch of his glorious dick. He was overwhelmed. Mingyu was even better than he imagined, like he already knew all the perfect spots to feel him, his mind melting into his touch. He ran his fingers through Mingyu’s wet hair, then down his broad shoulders, tracing every edge and curve of his muscular physique. He was built like a Greek god, strong and thick, tan and glossy, sculpted so perfectly. Mingyu’s lips made their way down to his neck, sucking down on the sensitive area, a high pitched whine escaping his lips.

“Nnnng, that’s good Mingyu,” he breathed out with his eyes rolling back, digging his nails into the flesh of his shoulder. His moans encouraged the boy to suck harder, teeth digging into his flesh, tongue gliding along the surface. Chan was gasping for breath, rocking against his body and clawing at his back. He was tingling, cock throbbing and shivers running up his spine. He felt Mingyu travel down further, nibbling on his collar bone then down to his chest, sliding his tongue over his perked up nipples, an especially sensitive spot for Chan.

“Oh g-god,” he winced as Mingyu sucked down. He was at the mercy of his dominance; all he could do was moan out and take it, Mingyu’s hands gripping his shoulders, feasting on his chest with such yearning, grinding their hips together. It was almost too much, feeling like he could cum right then and there, his aching dick stroking up against Mingyu’s chiseled abs.

Mingyu licked up his neck, looking up at the boy with his wide brown eyes. “You taste good,” he whispered, his lips just inches away from his, lifting the boy's chin so their eyes made contact. “I wanna taste even more of you.” Chan moaned at his words, going in to press their lips back together.

But before he got the chance, Mingyu flipped him over, pushing his stomach against the wall. He laid his body against his, sucking down on the back of his neck and pressing his cock against his backside. Chan was squeezed between Mingyu and the wall, the pressure so good and tight, bodies so hot and wet. He gasped when he felt Mingyu’s length slide between his butt cheeks and grazed against his rim. He pushed back against him, making sure every inch of his thick cock stroked against his hole.

“You like that baby?” Mingyu whispered, lips pressed to his ear, rolling his hips and grinding harder against his ass.

“Hmm, s-so good,” Chan hummed, eyes shut tight as he enjoyed the ride. He felt Mingyu make his way down his back, leaving trails of kisses along his spine, dropping down to his knees with his face now leveled with his ass. He stared at the boy’s bouncy round butt cheeks with hunger in his eyes, not hesitating to begin needing the soft flesh with his fingers. Chan arched back into his touch, rolling his hips and pressing his cheek against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re ass is nice,” Mingyu hissed, each of his hands gripping his cheeks in a tight squeeze. The water trickled down Chan’s back through the crack of his ass, the cool air brushing against his entrance as Mingyu spread his cheeks apart. He winced as he felt his hole stretch, the teasing sensation driving him crazy, shivering when Mingyu gently ran a finger down his rim.

“Hmmm, so tight,” Mingyu hummed, circling his finger around his clenching hole.

“P-please” Chan whimpered, looking over his shoulder down at him, desperate to feel some stimulation.

“Please what?” Mingyu teased, pressing his finger harder against Chan’s entrance.

“Please go inside,” he begged, pushing his ass back against him. Mingyu gave him what he wanted, sliding the digit inside his clenched entrance. Chan slammed his hand against the wall and let out a high pitched moan. It stung, but in the best way possible.

“Open up now Chanie,” Mingyu murmured, one hand on the boy’s hip, circling his finger around the tight muscle causing Chan’s knees to tremble. He tried his best to do as Mingyu said, pushing out to allow access to his ass, feeling the digit get sucked up inside. Mingyu smiled as he plunged into the warmth of his hole, all squishy and moist inside, enjoying the way Chan whined and fidgeted at just the slightest movement of his finger. It wasn’t long before he was adding a second finger inside, and then a third, scissoring him open and watching his hole flutter and stretch around the digits.

It was perfect, the way Mingyu grazed against his slicked up walls, his hole puckering open as he thrusted in and out at such a delicious pace. He prodded him in places he’d never been touched before, the sensitivity sending shockwaves through his body, desperately sobbing up against the wall. A whiney moan escaped his lips when Mingyu gripped his dripping cock with his free hand, giving it a tight squeeze as he continued to finger him open.

“Nnnng, Mingyu,” Chan whimpered, both palms pressed against the wall, head hanging down, and ass pushed back.

“You like that baby,?” Mingyu purred, pausing his thrusts deep inside and teasingly pressing against his prostate.

“Yes, n-need cock,” Chan begged looking back at him.

“Mhmm, so desperate aren’t you,” Mingyu hummed, his lips curled in a smile, expertly swirling his fingers around inside him. “Don’t worry we’ll get there soon enough.”

A whine fell from Chan’s lips as the digits slid out, his hole clenching around nothing. But he was rewarded with a warm wetness gliding up his rim, biting down on his lip and arching back into the sensation. He looked over his shoulder to see Mingyu’s face buried between his butt cheeks, hungrily feasting on his hole with immense enthusiasm. He felt his moist tongue penetrate his puckered entrance, Mingyu sucking and licking all around his tasty hole, his hand squeezing his throbbing cock and rubbing the sensitive head. It was sensational, each flick of his tongue sending a shiver through his body. He couldn’t help but moan, fucking himself back on Mingyu’s tongue and rolling his hips to increase the stimulation and depth he penetrated.

Mingyu buried himself as deep as he could inside his ass, Chan’s dripping wet butt cheeks rubbing up against his face, taking in the salty rich flavor of his hole. He gripped Chan’s hip to keep him still, not letting him escape the torturous pleasure of him eating him out. He gave his rim one last lick before coming up for air, skin flushed and hands spreading the boy’s cheeks apart, staring gleefully at the spit-covered entrance winking back at him.

“Mhmm, so tasty,” Mingyu moaned in a sweet voice, re-filling the boy’s hole with two of his fingers. Chan let out a high pitched whine at the feeling of the stretch, his mouth laid open and his knees giving out. Mingyu held his waist steadily, keeping the boy still as he fingered him hard.

“Fuck, you really love getting your hole played with don’t you,” Mingyu hissed, standing up on his feet and pressing his body against Chan’s, keeping his fingers deep in his ass.

“Fuck me please.” Chan pleaded, Mingyu’s breath hot against his cheek, his wet hair tickling the back of his neck.

“You think you deserve my dick? You think you can handle it?” Mingyu pressed his fingers in deeper, relishing in the way Chan fell apart with just two fingers inside him.

“Nnnng, yes, I need it” Chan breathed out, turning his head desperately trying to steal a kiss. He was gratefully rewarded, Mingyu’s warm lips pressing against his, his wet tongue slipping in his mouth. It was rough and savage, hands on his face, Mingyu sucking hard on his tongue. Chan whined when Mingyu broke away, his fingers slipping out of his ass as he stepped back. Chan looked over his shoulder at the boy basking underneath the shower raining down. It was the first moment he was able to clearly see Mingyu in all his glory, watching him stroke his strong cock jutting out towards him. He was truly massive, just the sight of it was enough to have Chan feeling light headed, wiggling his hips in order to entice the other boy. Mingyu stepped in closer, spreading Chan’s cheeks and pressing the fat head of his dick against his entrance.

“Tell me Chan, do you like it rough?” Chan’s hole twitched and his eyes rolled back.

“Yes, give it to me hard,” Chan whispered breathlessly, arching his ass back against his cock. Mingyu scoffed, holding the boy’s hips and steadily pushing himself inside. Chan let out a whine as the tip slipped past his rim, balling his fists against the wall, trying to handle the intensity of the stretch. His delicate walls spread open around Mingyu’s cock, moaning out as his ass was filled to the brim with hard, thick meat. Mingyu hummed in his ear, taking in the warm tightness of Chan’s hole, running his fingers along the boy’s upper body to give him some comfort.

“You’re so, b-big,” Chan whimpered, almost tearing up, hands pressed against the wall, eyes and mouth laid open wide. Mingyu took a moment to let the boy adjust to his girth. But he couldn’t help himself from beginning to slide back out, Chan’s velvety walls stroking against his dick in the most deliciously, pleasurable way.

“Mhmm, so good,” he whispered as he pulled his cock out, leaving just the tip buried inside. He hesitated before slamming himself back inside, Chan crying out in pleasure, thighs shaking and back arching as he collapsed against the wall. Mingyu kept up the slow, deep pace of his strokes, holding Chan’s slender waist to keep him still, staring down at his cock running in and out of his tight hole. Chan gasped each time his hole was re-filled, biting his lip as he looked back at Mingyu, bodies so wet and slippery, grinding deeper and harder against each other. Mingyu’s hips began to clap against Chan’s ass as his thrusts became rougher, the sound growing harsher, their moans becoming louder.

“F-fuck” Chan whimpered, wrapping his arm around of the back of Mingyu’s head and pulling him in closer, bouncing his ass back to deepen the penetration. His butt cheeks jiggled with each thrust, the shower water splashing between their bodies, his hole pulsing and clenching around the girthy meat. He was fucking him so good, his cock stretching him open and stabbing his prostate over and over again, shockwaves of stimulation surging through his body. Mingyu paused his thrusts for a moment to capture him in a heated kiss, rolling his hips and grinding his dick deep inside.

“Do you like my dick baby?” Mingyu growled with arms around Chan’s chest.

“Nnnng, it’s so good, you’re gonna make me c-cum,” Chan moaned as Mingyu wrapped his fingers back around his aching dick, pumping him hard. He continued to fuck into him at a brutal pace, his strokes getting sloppy and reckless as his climax began to rise. He felt the boy clench and try to run away. But he wasn’t gonna let him, keeping a tight hold on his torso and making sure he took every inch inside his tight little hole. He could feel him shaking against his body, listening to the sweet, desperate moans he sang as his prostate was stabbed relentlessly, using every ounce of energy he had left to rail into him hard.

“You gonna cum for me Channie?” Mingyu hummed in a high pitched breathy voice, his cock twitching and throbbing as his orgasm grew closer.

“Yes, yes, yes…” A pulsing stimulation erupted through Chan’s body, ropes of cum firing out of his cock as Mingyu stroked him to completion. His head hung low and his hands pressed to the wall, his body bent over as his prostate continued to get railed. He was seeing stars, vibrating with arousal, moaning uncontrollably as he was fucked through his orgasm. Mingyu grinned in amusement at the sight of the poor boy falling apart, overcome with stimulation.

“Mhmm, so good baby,” Mingyu purred, pressing kisses to his cheek, holding him up on his feet. “You ready for me to fill you up?” Chan just moaned in response, the post orgasm exhausting washing over him.

Mingyu continued to buck his hips hard, panting breathlessly as he mindlessly chased his orgasm. His vision was becoming blurry, clenching every muscle in his body as his cock began to throb. He cried out when he came, squeezing Chan’s chest and making one last powerful thrust before burying his hot load deep in his ass. Chan could feel his insides begin to fill up with Mingyu’s seed, his hole clenching around the thick pulsing cock as the other boy groaned loud in his ear. Mingyu continued to grind his dick inside him, letting the cum ooze out of Chan’s entrance and drip down his thighs. They stayed in this position for several minutes, letting the aching pleasure fade and shower rain down on them.

“That was- that was s-so good,” Mingyu hummed, laying his head on Chan's shoulder and squeezing his body tightly.

“It sure was,” Chan hummed groggily, looking back at him.

Maybe this summer won't be so bad after all.

#svt fanfic #seventeen #lee chan #kim mingyu #svt smut #gay smut #mxm #Mingyu x dino #18+ content #kpop smut

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