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#but if it did i would 1) lose my mind 2) freak it
awfullyfrond · 1 year
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argon fanart has breached containment. #blessed
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flem17ng · 4 months
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Oblivious: Mapi Leon x reader
note: this is for the anon who asked for mapi leon fic! I hope it’s what you had in mind xx
Summary: Reader is absolutely infatuated with mapi and she has no idea. Luckily some friends decide to help out.
content: mild age gap but not really
word count: 1.4k
“do the drill y/n! you can drool over leon later!” Patri sighed as she watched you, yet again, get distracted by the older player. This had been happening more and more frequently: everyday it seemed you were found gazing at Mapi from across the field. today was no different as you watched her sprint forward, tap the ball with her toe into the air and volley it across the field. 
clàudia slapped your arm with a grin. 
“one of these days she’s going to notice how in love with her you are hermana” 
“shut up” you grumbled, turning back to the drill. It was true that you made it pretty obvious. It seemed like the whole team knew about your crush on mapi except mapi. It’s not like you had a chance anyway! she was older than you, more experienced and probably the single most attractive woman you had ever seen. So yeah, you didn’t think you really stood a chance. 
“don’t be silly Pina, we both know Mapi wouldn’t recognise y/n’s crush if it slapped her in the face” Patri laughed with a shake of the head.
“can we change the conversation please” you whined suddenly finding the drill a lot more interesting than before
“change what conversation?” 
You whipped around only to find yourself face to face with the very girl you’d been looking at only seconds before. Mapi smiled at you (a sweet lopsided grin that made your heart speed up). 
“oh nothing! Just y/n and her big, ga-“
“my dead grandma” you almost shouted causing a few people to look at you in confusion. Mapi raised her eyebrows. 
“we where talking about my very dead grandma! that’s all!” you gave Patri a stern stare. 
“oh…” Mapi looked between you and the two other girls. “oh i’m sorry I didn’t know. um… well it’s water break now” Mapi backed away a few steps before turning and walking towards the drink bottles. 
“y/n what the fuck” Clàudia muttered. You looked at her, mortified. you needed to pull yourself together. 
***
It took you a whole 2 days to embarrass yourself even further. So maybe you weren’t able to pull yourself together like you told yourself you would. 
The game was a stunner. 9-1 to Barcelona. It was no secret that Mapi was the most valuable player on the pitch that day either. She was everywhere she needed to be. The final goal was something you knew you would never forget: Playing attacking mid, you raced into open space managing to lose your marker just as you neared the box, a second later you could see Mapi weave past the opposing striker and boot the ball towards you. Time slowed down as you jumped, letting the ball hit the top of your head, giving it the slight redirection it needed to skid into the top corner of the goal.  
You wasted no time turning at running towards the tattooed defender who’d assisted you. Her smile in the moment was better than the whole crowds cheering put together. When you crashed into her with a hug, you didn’t even think before kissing her cheek. 
“Mapi! I did it! I swear I could kiss yo-“ you cut yourself off when you saw Mapi’s eyes go wide. The awkward silence didn’t last long as the team descended on you both with loud cheers and slaps on the back. 
***
“you what!!” yelled Patri when you where safely in the car home.
“don’t make me say it again” you groaned, sinking further into your seat, covering your violently pink cheeks with your palms. 
“no i’m going to make you say that again! You said you could kiss her? Jesus y/n!”
Patri shook her head while Clàudia laughed from the backseat. 
“what did she do!” Pina laughed, clearly finding your embarrassment very amusing. 
“she just stared at me! god she’s going to think i’m a freak” you sighed. You could brush it off as heat of the moment, but you know it wasn’t. You could kiss her. Hell you wanted to, everyday you wanted too. 
“you guys are friends! she’s not going to think you’re a freak” Patri laughed
You just sunk further into the leather of the car seat, hoping it would swallow you up. 
***
Mapi was pacing the change-room the next day after training. The thought had been grating on her mind all day. Ever since you avoided her in the car park that morning. Usually you arrived at similar times, chatted about your morning, music, life, but that morning you had parked as close to the building as possible and practically ran inside at the sight of the older player. 
Mapi had shrugged it off but then during training you seemed to be making a visible effort to avoid her. It made her gut twist to think you were upset with her. hell, it made her feel sick to think you were upset at all but no one needed to know that. 
“god it’s just painful to watch at this point” Patri groaned to Alexia as she entered the change-room, only to stop short when she saw Mapi staring at her. 
“hey Mapi! I thought you would have gone home by now” Alexia smiled, much better at playing a poker face than Patri. 
“oh uh, no. I wanted to check on Y/n” she muttered. 
Patri smirked, “oh and whys that?” Alexia slapped her arm to be quiet. 
“she just seemed weird today. Like she avoiding me or something” Mapi groaned. It was weird seemed her like this, so unlike her usual bubbly self. 
“you really have no idea?” Alexia asked. Not teasing, but a genuine, gentle question 
“no idea about what?”
“she likes you Mapi! she has for a long time. If she’s acting weird around you maybe it’s because she’s losing hope.” Patri explained, watching mapis mouth fall open into a little ‘o’. 
“i didn’t realise” she whispered. Inside she could feel her heart speeding up like a kid. she smiled excitedly, “she really likes me?”
“oh god your oblivious sometimes leon” Alexia laughed. 
***
Anger couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when she told you. embarrassment, mortification, rage. You didn’t even have the energy to yell at her when you got the text from Patri telling you that she had told Mapi about your feelings. You simply sent a text to your coach telling him you were sick, locked your phone and cried. 
You knew people would try to get in touch with you, hell some even tried calling your landline but you ignored it all.
How could you show your face at training again?
after a day or so you unlocked your phone. 
4 missed calls from patri, 3 from alexia, a large paragraph from clàudia and-
one text from Mapi Leon. 
You tapped the notification. 
today, 10 mins ago. 
mapi 🦁:  I wanted to kiss you too. 
You almost dropped your phone when you read it. and then you re-read it. and then you really did drop your phone when a loud knock came from the front door. 
“please y/n. It’s me” you heard her voice float through the hallway. Her tone was pleading and you could picture her expression: soft but with a wrinkle in her brow that only appeared when she was worried or upset. 
When the door opened, she stepped inside without hesitation. 
“y/n” she said breathlessly. Her cheeks were pink as if she’d been running and, just as you had imagined, her brow was crinkled with worry. 
“mapi? how did you-“
she cut you off with her lips, cradling your cheek with her hand causing you to gasp. 
she pulled back, looking from your eyes to your lips for permission to kiss you again. 
“Mapi…”
“i’m sorry i didn’t realise sooner. I’m an idiot i know”
You smiled at her and shook your head, finally giving in and reaching up to smooth her worry lines. 
“just kiss me again león” you laughed. and she did just that. Pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply right there on your doorstep. 
Maybe you were an idiot, maybe she was oblivious, but hell she was a good kisser. 
shit, You needed to thank Patri.
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verysium · 5 months
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This is such crack brain fart idea 😶
What if some blue lock boys ask the reader what brand her shoes (or something dumb like that) over text and reader sent them a voice message on text and it’s just:
“Hi baby, okay so the brand is—- *insert car accident noises*”
Have you seen those TikToks???
If you do this request, it can be any blue lock boys you want
HELPPP i saw something similar on hinge, and i was hunched over the side of my bed laughing for like 20 minutes. in general, i don't think pranks with any of the bllk boys would go well (unless you wanted to be punted like a football, american-style) but i'm taking a risk today, so here you go:
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sae sees through your bullshit in a peloponnesian minute. he has morning practice, three interviews, and a daily nap to get to, so what makes you think he has time for you to fake a car accident? leaves you on read. (brutal, i know.)
rin is mildly concerned, but he's too smart to fall for whatever prank you have planned. he'd probably reply with a sarcastic, dry ass response or a deadpan emoji. refuses to talk to you for the rest of the day because what if you actually got into a car accident? he would lose all sanity. tbh he can't stand it when people make light of serious situations even if it's just a lighthearted joke.
kaiser is petty. he sends you an official funeral invite titled "in loving memory of y/n." he personally designed it in photoshop and even added those tacky glitter rose GIF animations on the front. coincidentally, everyone in your immediate circle also happened to receive the same mass email chain with those invites, so you had to explain to your family, friends, and co-workers that (1) you did not in fact die in a car accident and (2) your funeral is not set for the 15th. (you never played a prank on michael again.)
isagi freaks out. he's calling 911/119, whatever emergency service there is. immediately calls you and nearly breaks down in fear of losing you. when you tell him it was merely a prank, he laughs in relief but internally he's cursing you out with every colorful name in existence.
ness is isagi but even more high-strung. there is no time to call the ambulance in his mind. he's already thundering down the highway looking for the evidence of your car wreck. calls you and screams ballistically into the speaker: "WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU?" so yeah....don't ever play a prank on ness. it's for your sake, not his.
shidou takes you up one notch and sends a picture of himself in the emergency room with a cast on his leg and an IV drip. this spawn of satan took your message literally and decided to copy you and got into a real car accident. so now you have to take time off work and sign the hospital discharge papers because he listed you as his sole emergency contact.
nagi doesn't give a shit. he's already chronically online, and reo's played pranks on him before. probably texts you an "ok" and then tells you he's run out of toilet paper again, so you need to stop by the store to buy some.
reo matches your energy. he replies with: oh yeah, i've heard of that brand. it's the—*insert sound of trucks colliding and screeches across asphalt* you both had a good laugh after.
ok that's all i have for now. this is going to reach a very niche demographic, but you're welcome.
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igotanidea · 13 days
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Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
part 4: Stuck
A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3
Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)
***
He felt like a fool.
Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.
Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.
But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?
Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.
“Anthony!”
He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.
Not very gentlemanly of him.
“Anthony!”
He quickened his pace.
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.
Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.
“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.
“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.
“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.
“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “
“If you let me –"
“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "
"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered
"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”
“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”
“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”
“Mother!”
“Do not raise your voice on me son.”
“Apologies…”
“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”
Anthony mumbled something once more.
“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”
“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?
And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.
Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.
And he needed her back.
Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.
“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.
“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”
***
Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.
There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.
Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.
Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.
***
For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 
***
Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.
And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.
Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.
Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.
After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?
***
First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.
Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.
“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.
“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“
“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“
“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.
“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.
“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”
She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.
“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”
“Tha-thank you my lady…”
‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”
“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.
“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.
“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“
“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”
“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”
Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.
And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?
“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks
“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.
“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”
“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”
“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”
“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”
“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”
“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”
“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”
“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”
“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”
“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”
Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.
“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”
“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.
Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable – Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.
“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.
“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”
“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement
“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.
“He made a gesture!”
“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”
“Y/N!”
“Y/N?!”
“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”
“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”
***
Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.
No.
He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.
The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.
For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.
It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.
Too much.
Dear Lord.
Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.
Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.
It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.
He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.
And his family knew and accepted it.
She didn’t.
Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.
And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.
“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.
He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.
“I’m sorry my lord but-“
“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”
“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.
“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”
“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.
“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”
She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.
Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.
Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.
He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.
And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.
He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -
“Anthony.”
Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.
She came.
She truly came.
It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.
Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.
She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.
Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.
“Y/N….”
“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”
“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”
“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”
“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.
“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”
“In what aspect my lord?”
“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”
“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.
“Anthony I –“
“My love, I am sorry.”
“this is not—”
“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.
“Anthony-“
“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“
“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”
How he felt was not with words.
How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.
I love you.
By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.
I won’t ever let go of you.
By tender caress of her hair and back.
I will always cherish you.
By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.
I am sorry.
She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.
“My love. My beloved.”
She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.
“Am I too much now?” she whispered
“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”
This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?
“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.
“Thank God.”
“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”
“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.
(spoiler alert below)
I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3
@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall @bloommart @lorinevv @taylorswars @jessiegerl @glocuseguardian3rd @angiieguevara @laurasdrey @jholiday @smailaway @some-random-stranger-007 @beckahhope @bookishtheaterlover7 @eclecticcollectioncloud @thingfromlove @dutifullyannoyingfox @kitkat14sblog @dancingandreadingwithv @heyits-zedo @superhighschoollevelnerd-blog1 @ben-has-arrived @kindaslightlyacidic @espressopatronum454 @miluiel1 @powellssaturn @jess4rush @krismdavis @yourgirlypop
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
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Yuta finding out you've got severely injured at Shibuya and freaking out
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Pairing: Yuta x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: When the news of Shibuya begin to flood in, Yuta almost loses his mind over you. Without thinking twice he pays you, the secret love of his life, a visit.
Warnings: reader is depressed over her injury/disabilities so if that's not for you don't read it, Yuta is very confident in this one like he should, hurt/injury, comfort with my boy Yuta in the end
„Don’t tell me she was there too.”
Pictures flood Yuta’s mind uncontrollably. Your oh so gorgeous doe eyes, your breath-taking smile. You with your hair done the way you know he likes, you in that uniform that suits you so well.
You, lying on the floor covered in your own blood.
The news of what happened at Shibuya already pulled the ground underneath his feet. But given the fact that everyone was involved like Miguel said, you must have been there. They would be reckless to not rely on your powers.
You, a grade 2 sorcerer who would have become a grade 1 within the next few months. You, who promised him that you’ll stay safe.
“Hey, don’t worry about me, okay? This is a great opportunity to get a hold of your great powers, Yuta. I mean of course I’ll miss you terribly, but not enough to destroy this for you. Watch out.”
He had a bad feeling right from the start. After everything that happened just a few months ago, letting you go was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. But you were right with what you’ve said, to accompany Miguel and invest his time into training really was the wisest thing he could do back then.
Except for leaving you behind.
“You mean (y/n)? Both you and I know she definitely was.”
His heart drops in an instant, eyes widen in nothing but pure horror. Hearing that none other that Satoru Gojo got sealed, countless lives ended within only a couple of hours…
You can’t be dead, right? No, it’s simply impossible that you leave him alone like this.
“I hate the thought of dying during some pointless battle. This just doesn’t make sense to me, y’know? I’d rather die as a hero or not at all until I’m old and ugly.”
“But (y/n), you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. Many people just die on the battlefield without a special purpose.”
“I won’t, then.”
God, your wide smile back then. It really made him believe that you are the type to survive everything, that nothing and no one is able to bring you down.
But Shibuya managed to even get a hold of the strongest of them all. So what about you?
His lips begin to tremble uncontrollably, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood begins to spill.
“Tell me she’s alright. Tell me (y/n) made it without getting hurt.”
Miguel signs, the sheer power that radiates from Yuta’s shaking figure running shivers down his spine.
“As far as I know she managed to get out…Somehow.”
That means you’re alive, right? That means you were able to escape certain death. But…
At what cost?
“How is she, then? Tell me already”, Yuta barks at the man standing in front of him.
God, he can’t lose you. Not know. Not when he wasn’t even able to admit his feelings to you, to thank you for always standing by his side, before telling you how much he adores you with all his heart.
“I don’t know! Everything is pure chaos over there”, Miguel replies dryly.
“If that’s so, I will go and pay her a visit.”
“Now? Did you forget you’re here to get trained by me? You can’t just fly over there because of a girl-“
“She is more than just a girl”, Yuta interrupts him immediately.
“And I will go and look after her myself.”
-At Jujutsu High-
Urgh, how much you hate opening your eyes since that fateful day. Yes, you are very much alive and in proud possession of all your limbs. But that’s it, basically.
“Hey, how you’re doing?”
“Better than yesterday, still not fine I guess.”
It haunts you. The pictures of Shibuya plague your mind day in day out. Closing your eyes means seeing all of their faces before they die, opening them reminds you of the fact that you survived despite losing everything else. The sight of your left eye, the ability to move your arms freely, your capability to walk a straight line. The fucking special grade curses hit you hard, burned you to the ground, sliced you open like a fish.
And now you’re laying here as one of the few people that survived Shibuya. Right next to Shoko who cares for you every free minute.
“So glad you didn’t tell me you hate your life again, pessimism doesn’t suit you at all. What would that boy say if he could hear you blow misery?”
That boy named Yuta. It seems like everyone except himself knows about the huge crush you have on him. Well, not very surprising considering the fact that you talk about him day in and out, asking whenever he’s doing fine in that foreign land before even saying hallo.
“Haven’t heard from him since that shit happened. My phone got kinda destroyed and well, most of the time I laid here passed out on the bed”, you reply briefly, staring at the ceiling with no aim.
Oh, how much you long for him, how much you miss to hear his comforting words in the middle of the night. But you know it wouldn’t be wise to tell him what happened. As far as you can tell, Yuta would take the next flight to Tokyo and stay by your side day and night. And even though that sounds more than appealing to you, you just know this isn’t what he needs. He needs to stay where he is, safe and sound while sharpening his abilities. And you aren’t on that list.
“Well, someone definitely told him.”
You squint your functioning eye, staring at the unbothered woman in front of you in confusion. What the hell is she talking about?
“Why are you saying that?”
“(y/n)!?”
Your heart stops, eyes widen. That voice. That oh so familiar voice you heard over the phone for these past months. The voice you dreamed of day and night. Can it really be…
“Yuta?” you breathe out, eye searching for his familiar figure.
Yes, is really is him, standing in the middle of the room with his familiar white uniform. He looks so…different. The dark circles under his eyes are completely gone by now, his dark blue eyes glooming in the dim light. He definitely is a few inches taller than last time, features more mature than before. And his hair…it seems like he finally began to style it a little.
Without hesitation he storms towards you, glistening orbs scanning what’s left of your crippled body.
Yuta feels like dying. You’ve been through so much; your usual bright eyes show nothing but emptiness and agony. What did they do to you? Why does it have to be you? You, the most precious human being walking on this earth. You, the girl he’s secretly in love with since that horrible fight over a year ago. He can’t stop the tears from taking his sight, hands desperately grabbing yours.
“I’m so sorry (y/n). I should have been by your side. I shouldn’t have left you here alone, I-“
“Shut up, Yuta”, you interrupt him before hearing another word.
“You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t expect our first meeting to be when I…look like this…”, you mumble, gaze avoiding him at any cost.
“What are you talking about, (y/n)?”
His heart hammers against his chest, hands on their way to gently caress your cheek when you just turn away.
“All this time I had the chance to tell you that I love you and now…Look at me. Shoko said I might be never able to see again, countless scars will be visible on my body for the rest of my life. My leg got completely destroyed, to the point where even she might not be able to fix it. I’m not the (y/n) you know anymore. I’m a shadow of myself”, you bark at him.
Fuck, don’t cry, don’t let feelings overwhelm you. After all, Nanami-san told you how well you fought.
Just before dying in front of your very own eyes.
Your hands begin to tremble uncontrollably again when pictured of all the death and misery flood your mind. Why can’t you just turn it off? Why aren’t you strong enough to outstand all of this? Desperately you hold your own head, squinting your eyes shut. Please, just let it stop. Let it all go away.
Yuta doesn’t think twice. Gently, he places his hands on top of yours while pressing your head against his chest. It’s just not fair. When he left, you wore your smile so effortlessly, your joyful personality radiating to the outside for everyone to see. But now…you look so broken it kills him from the inside.
“I love you too, (y/n). Just the way you are. No matter how injured, no matter how bad you feel. I will always see the striking (y/n) with the most breath-taking smile and the worst humour of all times in you. We’ll get through this together, okay? I won’t leave your side.”
You crumble against his chest, letting everything out your hid so well within these last couple of hours. Oh, how much you fucking missed him, how much you longed for his touch all this time. Is it really possible that he doesn’t care about your state? Could it really be that…
Yuta Okkotsu loves you the way you are?
“You don’t care about how miserable I am?”, you whimper, taking in his delicious scent that hasn’t change even after all this time.
“Not the slightest. But I will kill everyone who did this to you without blinking”, he remarks in all seriousness.
You gaze up at him. The unsure boy in him seems to be vanished in thin air, eyes filled with confidence while he balls his fists behind your head.
Yuta Okkotsu might have changed, but the tenderness he holds in his gaze when his eyes meet yours is still the same.
“I swear that nothing like this will ever happen again. I’ll stay here with your and will make sure you’re safe.”
Your glossy eyes widen, mind trying to process his words.
“But you…you weren’t even supposed to be here. You still have to train-“
“No training in the world is more important than you. I love you, (y/n). And even though I wasn’t able to admit it back then, I want to stay by your side.”
 And then is lips meet yours. Before he losing the courage to finally do what he dreamed of countless nights, to make sure you understand how much you mean to him. He will make them pay for what they did to you, he will move heaven and earth to make sure they get the punishment they deserve.
But for now, he gently strokes your hair while kissing you with all the desire he hit over the past months, will all the love he holds for you.
“I’ll be there for you, okay? And I will kill every single one of them with my own hands.”
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi
there you have it @lees-chaotic-brain I really hope you like it <3 I know this isn't your request yet but I thought you'll enjoy some Yuta content still @belovedvamp
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blueteller · 3 months
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TCF Theory: What If God of Death Had a Reason for Kidnapping Minors?
(Hey, @murasaki-cha, I might have a theory that could sorta maybe redeem your pathetic little meow meow! 😂)
[Also: SPOILER WARNING for... basically everything in TCF?]
So, here's the thing:
It's no secret I always had… issues with the God of Death for kidnapping the Chois.
Let me clarify a bit.
What he did to Kim Rok Soo, aka. Cale, was not okay either – however! I can see it justified somewhat by circumstances: he was cursed, his life was generally depressing and terrible, and there was a world in need of saving. Honestly, the deal with the Original Cale Henituse to switch the two of them was best for all parties involved. (I'm still angry he did not ask Cale himself for permission, though! All the God of Death needed to do was tell him: "Look, this is the world where your BFF Lee Soo Hyuk reincarnated into. And the world is going to be destroyed in about 20 years if nothing is done about it. Would you mind cleaning that up for me?" You bet your butt Cale would have agreed fair and square, even if he were EXTREMELY miffed about the deal. But it's so much easier to simply hide your involvement in the transmigration, so that Cale doesn't have a personal vendetta against you once he gets OP, right…? Not that it succeeded, lol. Cale still ended up cursing the God of Death a lot)
However – all of what I just said? NONE of it applied for the Choi family member.
First, we have Choi Jung Gun, aka. Nelan Barrow. Let me remind you, the kid was FIFTEEN. Freaking 15!!!! The God of Death kidnapped a literal CHILD with no combat experience, and dropped him in the middle of an active war zone! Sure, technically Super Rock was there and presumably took care of him – but still, that was an objectively a terrible thing to do, God of Death! Bad boy!! 🧹🧹🧹
Then we have Choi Han, and ohhh boy, he had even worse somehow! Even though he was 2 years older than Choi Jung Gun when he got transported, he still ended up in the freaking FOREST OF DARKNESS. Weaponless, isolated, under constant threat of death. It's a miracle Choi Han did not die or completely lose his mind – and in a sense he did – but he was still able to retain a piece of himself, NO THANKS TO YOU GOD OF DEATH. My goodness! What a way to treat your "chosen hero ", mister!
...as you can probably tell, I was pissed enough at the God of Death for kidnapping poor Choi Jung Gun, but I am NEVER forgiving him for what Choi Han went thought. Should have given him something! A letter, a sword, or at the very least – A FREAKING MAP!!!
Aaaand finally we have Choi Jung Soo. Which was a bizarre case in comparison to the previous two. Even the God of Death remarked how unusual it was.
First of all, consent was asked – WHAT A TWIST! 🤣
Secondly, Choi Jung Soo was already an adult, and experienced fighter. He'd have a much better time in Nameless 1 world than any of his predecessors (excluding the fact that he'd have a TERRIBLE time trying to fight the White Star; who may I remind you possessed Kim Rok Soo's face... Also, did he even get to read "The Birth of a Hero"...?). He was also on the verge of death. AND he allowed to say no!! It was much more fair than what happened to the other two.
...But why though? Why the special treatment, God of Death? Why not kidnap Choi Jung Soo as a kid as well? The timing was kind of strange.
So here my theory comes in.
What if, it wasn't the God of Death who determined the timing of the transportation? What if there was an outside factor involved? Just because there seemingly wasn't a strict pattern to WHEN the Chois got transported, that doesn't mean there couldn't be one.
An outside factor like, let's say.... the Hunters? 🤔
From his behaviour in the Sloth Test, we know that Choi Jung Gun absolutely hates the Hunters. And it seemed very personal too. Even if we take it for granted that the Hunters were responsible for the existence of the Original White Star and the war and all that... It was still VERY personal. Like, "I will tear you to bloody pieces with my bare hands and chew on them with my teeth" level of personal. So, what gives?
Then it hit me.
The Five Colored Bloods Hunters are Wanderers who can freely travel across dimensions. They targeted young Kim Rok Soo, because he had a "mark" of the God of Death on. They assumed it could be a sign of a Single Lifer, and it did not matter to them if it necessary to kill him just to "check". The only reason why Kim Rok Soo survived was because Choi Jung Gun was there (even though I have issues about his execution – using a minor as BAIT?! Not cool man! Almost as bad as the God of Death!). Without him, young Kim Rok Soo absolutely would have been killed. And the way Choi Jung Gun was acting in the Sloth Test made it seem like it wasn't the first time something like this happened either.
Meaning: the Hunters were already on Earth 1. They have been there.
So, what if... the Hunters had already targeted the Chois in the past? Including Choi Jung Gun himself?
Think about it. If the Hunters had any clue that this particular lineage could produce Single Lifers... they'd certainly keep an eye on the Choi family, right? There would be no need to directly interfere. Just, watching them from the sidelines and let them produce next generations. Spying on their kids – like the total creeps they are.
And perhaps, there was a particular sign of a potential Single Lifer to watch out for, that could manifest around adolescence? What if Choi Jung Gun showed such a sign at the age of 15?
Instead of simply using him as a weapon to save another world... was the God of Death actually trying to save Choi Jung Gun? By transporting him into another dimension??
It would... kinda make sense, right? By transporting Choi Jung Gun, his "Single Lifer power" activated. His lifespan became much longer, he developed an Ancient Power too. He was initially weak, but he grew stronger overtime. Strong enough to stand up to the Hunters and protect himself; and also taking him away from their immediate reach.
...What if the same happened with Choi Han? What if Choi Han became a target at the age of 17? And the only way to save him was to transport him as well? I mean it worked with Choi Jung Gun, why not try it a second time? If the first one became a powerful ally who could fight the Hunters, the God of Death would certainly like another one on his payroll, right?
And then there's Choi Jung Soo, of course. Maybe he escaped the scrutiny of the Hunters? Or maybe because he developed powers which made him a harder target? Why would the Hunters bother with difficult opponents when they can always play dirty and go after literal children, instead? There is also the issue of the Monster Apocalypse, as Cale suspects the Hunters were behind it as well. Maybe the Hunters had a different plan for Earth 1, and so they had to stop using it as hunting grounds for Single Lifers?
If I'm right about this, then the God of Death's actions became a liiiiitle bit more understandable.
I will forever criticize the man for not asking at least three of his victims (and don't try to give me some bull about him being "unable to", God of Death used various means to communicate through the story; Choi Jung Gun even freaking wrote "The Birth of a Hero" books for the sole purpose of giving necessary exposition to a transmigrator – more than that, if he had enough space to simp for Whales and provide Harol's backstory for no reason! He could have included ANY type of message in there, to ANYONE!), but if Choi Jung Gun were to literally die if he did not get kidnapped and transported into a war-torn dimension in need of saving... Well? Saving someone's life via transmigration might be unconventional, but I've seen it happen a lot in many isekai. I can roll with this.
...But seriously tho, I hope Choi Jung Gun makes that broom beating a regular thing. The God of Death certainly can use it. You know – for emotional intelligence improvement! 😏
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yuriririn · 5 months
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Is it love?
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A/N: It’s literally 1:51 in the morning and I’m supposed to be studying my last few topics on Tax Law. I really should be focusing, but sometimes don’t you hate it when you have this idea in your head that you just need to let out otherwise you’ll go insane? Yup. So that’s today for me.
PAIRING | Park Jongseong (Jay) x reader
WC | 2.8k (wth Alice?!)
GENRE | angst, fluff
WARNINGS | mentions of drinking, explicit language, mentions of sex and pre-marital cohabitation 
SYNOPSIS | When you first met, he didn’t believe it was love. When you fight for the first time though, that’s when it hit him.
Maybe it was the alcohol that’s making your head throb so incredibly hard right now but you were sure that it wasn’t this painful when you came in here. You were having the worst week of your law school life because of upcoming midterm examinations, terrifying judges as professors, and mock trials so you actually allowed your friends to pull you out of your dorm, go to a bar, and loosen up. 
At least, that was the plan. 
“Why are you being so uptight even until now?” your best friend asks before sipping on her drink which mind you, was the exact same drink that made your head ache so bad tonight. God has it been a while since you went out. 
Trying not to throw up you say, “How are you guys holding your alcohol so well? We’ve been here for three hours.” 
“You just haven’t been drinking that’s all.” 
“I shouldn’t even be drinking tonight anyway. I’m swamped with things I’ve yet to read.”
She scoffed, ordered another drink for you, and left to go to the dance floor with some unknown guy you’ve seen around campus. 
Leaning onto the bar, you stared at your drink, hoping it would finish itself. 
“It’s not going to finish itself.” Did you just hear your thoughts out loud? You looked up to search for the unfamiliar voice.
And there he was. Tall, slender, platinum hair that’s carefully pushed back further accentuating his jawline that’s sure to be able to cut through paper with how freaking sharp it was. His features were extremely strong. He had fierce eyes, tall nose bridge, and a smirk that carefully crossed his thinly-lined lips. 
He sat next to you without making eye contact and gestured to the bar tender indicating that he was probably a regular around here.
Realizing that you were seconds too late in replying, you shook your head and muttered, “I’m not rushing. I’m here with my friends.”
“I take it you didn’t want to come in the first place.”
“Is it that obvious?”
He let out a small laugh at your response and you could have sworn that it was the most handsome laugh you have ever heard in your life. 
“I’m Jay.” he offered his hand, which you shook, of course. You weren’t a fan of talking to strangers but he was just that inviting. No bias, but he was so gorgeous you just couldn’t ignore him! You wanted to be careful, but you’re not crazy.
“I’m Y/N. You from campus?”
“Yeah. I’m taking the 2-year MBA program,” he took a sip, “and you studying fashion or…?” 
“God no. I could never.” you nearly spat your drink hearing his assumption, but flattered nonetheless, “second year, JD.” 
“Yikes, there’s no wonder you looked like you didn’t want to be here.” 
You scoffed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, of course, I didn’t first think you were in law. You look way too pretty to be someone who’s swarmed with school work.” 
“Is that your way of talking into picking girls up at bars?” 
He put his drink down to face you. This time, the smugness on his face disappeared and was replaced with a slight pink on his cheeks. He was flustered, and you made him lose his cool. Even you surprised yourself. You just didn’t know you had it in you to flirt tonight.
“Believe it or not, I don’t normally talk to girls around here.” 
It was your turn to laugh, “Is that so?” 
“Yeah. I’m not like other guys.”
“That is such an other guy thing to say!” 
The conversation went on for about an hour and you didn’t even notice how many drinks you were both having. The topics went on from school, to work, to friends, and to plans after school, and finally came to the part where he asked you out. You were hesitant at first (or at least you pretended to be hesitant), and thought that maybe this was just going to be a one time thing. He was kind and smart, but he did look like your typical college fuckboy after all. However, it’s been a while since you actually went out on a proper date and he seemed like there was more to him than just his appearance. 
“Sure.” you say, offering your last cheers for the night. 
“You said you were having a study group session, not a one-on-one with someone you obviously know has the hots for you.”
You can’t believe you were having this conversation just five months after meeting your boyfriend at the bar. Fighting was never a common thing between you two because you rarely even had the time to argue about anything. Jay was patient, loving, caring, and often just supported you and your decision to work and study. He offered to have you quit your job and just move in with him but you always thought that it was way too early into your relationship to accept the idea of living together. However, you did sleep over a lot considering he lived alone. 
Tonight you were scheduled to sleep over once again because it was just convenient. He lived much closer to campus and had a car. His program wasn’t as heavy as yours so he had the time to pick you up and send you to work and school. Everything was just peachy until this happened. 
Taking a deep breath you responded, “Jake is just a classmate, and we got partnered up to form a legal opinion together. It takes a lot of time Jay, and I didn’t know that the others would finish up much earlier than us. It’s no big deal, it was only a few hours.”
“I bet he purposely slowed things down to spend more time with you that’s all.” 
“What do you want from me? I can’t just avoid him just because he makes you feel uncomfortable.”
He scoffed, “Does he even know you have a boyfriend?” 
“Jay, I don’t need to tell him that I have a boyfriend. Everyone knows you’ve been picking me up to and from school.”
“Yeah, but it’s different when you actually tell them.” 
Finally arriving in his dorm, you put your bag down on the couch and stormed into the bathroom. He placed your laptop on the coffee table and tossed his car keys on the kitchen counter. You can sense his anger because you could hear him slamming the fridge shut from across the room. You just cannot believe him right now.
Ignoring his tantrum, you washed your face, brushed your teeth, and tied your hair up. 
“What do you want to eat?” he asked from the other side of the door.
“I’m not hungry.” You stepped out of the bathroom and went straight to your bag to bring out some of the books you were scheduled to read tonight. There was just so much to do and you can’t be wasting your time dealing with Jay right now. 
He on the other hand was just laying on the couch mindlessly scrolling through Netflix. The silent treatment from him would have been fine for you but the TV was being awfully loud you just can’t get yourself to study. 
“Are you doing this on purpose?” you finally spoke. 
“Doing what on purpose?”
“Jay, you’re being ridiculous right now.”
“I’m not doing anything.” 
You slammed your book shut, heavy enough to be intensely audible. He jumped a bit from the vibration as you gave him the most piercing look you have ever given him your entire relationship. He was being difficult the entire time on the way here despite knowing how much you seriously did not need it tonight. He knows that you had a lot to study for tomorrow and yet he was still being a brat about practically nothing.  
You packed up your books and rushed to the bedroom to change. “I’m leaving. I can’t study here.” 
“Fine.” He still never made eye contact. 
And with that, you left. 
Jay got up from the couch with what felt like forever. He knew you couldn’t have gone too far since your dorm was just a short bus ride away, but still, it was 7pm, dark, and cold outside. He didn’t mean to sound harsh, nor did he mean to piss you off. He typically did try his best to be the most understanding boyfriend for you knowing how much you cared about your studies. 
He unlocked his phone to see no new notifications. No messages from you whatsoever. 
Alright. If she needs time off from me to study, then fine. He thought. 
But what if you weren’t fine? What if you didn’t get to your dorm safely? What if the entire time you were walking home you entertained thoughts about breaking up with him? 
Jay shook his head to snap out of his own thoughts. He had been so emotional about you getting way too close to this classmate of yours. It wasn’t like him to act so jealous, but lately he has been noticing that you’ve been hanging out with that guy a little too much for his liking. He tossed and turned from the couch thinking about how he would make this up to you or how he would respond if you did try to reach out to him after tonight. He was losing his cool because of you again but this time it was a mixture of jealousy, worry, and frustration. 
He stood up feeling a slight blood rush from all the shuffling. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he has never been so worked up for some girl before. His past relationships consisted of summer flings and college hookups that didn’t last more than a month. He never really believed in love just yet because he was so careful in saving it for someone he would actually want to devote all his time and heart to. However with you, it’s been more than three months, but is it too soon to categorize this as love? Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Was it always coupled with an impending fear of losing someone you barely spent an entire year with?
It was his turn to use the bathroom this time. He stepped onto what he expected to be a cold floor but to his surprise, the tiles never sent a sudden chill at all. He looked down to see a small carpet carefully placed on the bathroom floor. It was probably your doing because you always said that it was dangerous to keep the bathroom free of any rugs. The lack of friction might cause a slip and you wanted to rid yourselves away from any accidents. 
He sighed at the thought of you being so concerned about him. Looking around the bathroom, it was always clean these days ever since you semi-moved in with him. The towels were always newly replaced, the mirror was spotless, and the drug cabinet was always stocked up with medicines Jay never thought he ever needed. All of this he could have done all on his own but with you being on top of everything all the time despite your busyness, he just couldn’t shake the thought of wifing you up. He never thought he needed anyone until he found you. 
There was one thing that really tugged his heartstrings though. Your toothbrush was carefully placed in a cup near the sink just close to his.
“Do you even ever change your toothbrush?! You’re such a slob!” 
“I do too change my toothbrush every month!” 
“That’s fucking gross Jay, do it at least every three weeks.”
Jay watched you as you threw his old toothbrush away and opened a fresh new box with two toothbrushes this time. You placed the pink and blue ones in the cup near the sink and turned to him with the most satisfied smile. 
That was three months in your relationship. 
Feeling a rush of adrenaline, he grabbed his phone from the couch and started texting you asking where you are. He ran to the coat rack, grabbed a jacket, and exited his apartment within minutes. 
You were on case 12 out of 30 for your assigned cases to read tonight and thankfully you had the entire dorm to yourself because this was practically cramming since these cases were set for tomorrow’s recitation. Even if you’ve already been studying all day, it felt like you still had loads to cover before you were done with tonight. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking of Jay the entire time but the fight wasn’t really worth pausing and you really couldn’t afford to lose momentum. 
Knock knock. The sound of the door interrupted your concentration. 
“Y/N, it’s me.” you heard him from the other side.
Well of course who else would it be?
“Jay I—“ you couldn’t even open the door fully and finish your sentence because he barged right in and surrounded you in the tightest embrace. He was panting, caressing your hair, digging his face in the crook of your neck. 
You can feel his heart thump against your body. He was so cold from the outside weather, but his breath was hot, and he was shaking. 
“Oh my god, is everything okay?!” you hugged him back, “are you hurt? did something happen?!”
“Why are you like this? I was picking a fight, left you alone to go home by yourself, was a total brat, and still you’re asking me if I’m okay??” he was exasperated, but continued to wrap his arms around you like his life depended on it. 
“Are you crazy? I’m not the one who’s barging into his girlfriend’s dorm acting like he didn’t see her just a few hours ago!”
He loosened his grip and faced you. You were probably just tired but was he crying?
“So you’re still my girlfriend?” he squeaked. He was so cute and so not himself right now if it weren’t such a worrisome atmosphere, you would have laughed. 
Okay, so maybe you did laugh a little bit. 
“Of course, I am!” you chuckled, “why did you ever think that I wasn’t?!” 
“Because we fought,” he sniffed, “I thought I was going to lose you.” 
You were full on laughing at him right now. His eyebrows furrowed and gave the cutest, tiniest pout. 
“Jay,” you finally managed to say, “I was mad, and yes we did fight. But I’m not breaking up with you. I’m sorry if you felt that I was going to.” 
He hugged you again, but this time tackling you onto the couch putting his entire weight on top of your smaller frame. 
“Jay—“ you choked, “’Jay, if you don’t get off of me right now I might actually break up with you.”
“That’s not funny!” he backed away in an instant, “You can’t just sprinkle all this domesticity onto my life and just walk away.” He continued to rub his eyes, sniffling, and struggling to sit next to you on the couch. You caressed his back and waited for him to calm the eff down. 
“I’m not sure what your idea of romance is babe, but that’s how relationships are supposed to be,” you comforted him as he turned to face you, “we will fight, butt heads, disagree, get jealous, and even walk out on each other but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”
He sat up straight hearing the word and you notice his ears turn cherry red. 
“—and yes, I do love you, Jay.” 
“You love me?” he sounded like the word was so foreign, so uncommon, and so alien that the slight hesitation made you feel like you trespassed in some unfamiliar territory. 
With that, you just nodded. 
He buried his face into his hands. Is he going to say it? Is this finally the day he’s going to say it? He pictured that the first time he would ever say it to anyone would be special. He imagined it being on a hill, or by the ocean, or on top of the city lights, or somewhere more beautiful and deserving than this. But come to think of it, he never would have thought about saying it before, not to just anyone at least. 
He only really imagined saying it to you. 
There were nights where you two would just be eating, watching TV, brushing your teeth, he would watch you get up to study right after you just had sex, just doing the most mundane things, and he would just have this strong urge to tell you something. Something he has never ever felt with anyone else before. 
He tensed up, took a deep breath, and said:
“I love you.” 
He looked at you so intensely.
“I love you, so much.”
And you knew. He didn’t need to say it, but you knew. 
182 notes · View notes
genderfluid-insomniac · 6 months
Note
sun wukong and sixed eared mihou realizing their crushes [where theyre in a "courting" type stage of their relationship] mortality? like they knew they were mortal before sure but they get a close call where their crush is Fine but it kinda puts things to perspective for them ykwim [smth like having to pull them away from a car that nearly hits them, nearly falling off a mountain ledge, just barely dodging an attack, etc]
idk im curious to see how theyd react and if theyd grow distant or clingy or try to Make them immortal
Sun Wukong + Six-Eared Macaque x fatally injured!mortal!s/o
Sun Wukong
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He knows all too well about being close to someone who’s mortal and doesn’t want to go through it again but would rather become mortal with you than force you to become immortal. So when you get fatally injured during an attack against the city he freaks out and thinks that’s it, Wukong isolates himself into you or one of his friends physically goes into his hut where his brother and sisters surround him all worried and concerned for their king.
You repeatedly tell him that this was his life worked sadly, and people got injured but that doesn’t mean he’s going to lose you until he shouts out, “THATS THE THING! JUST LIKE THE OTHERS, YOU LEAVE ME AND DIE WHILE I SUFFER FROM STAYING IMMORTAL. I DON’T WANNA LOSE YOU!” He turns to face you and tears are streaming down his face, his nose is running and he’s hyperventilating, you realize all these past weeks why he’s been so protective and worried because of this. The relationship between you two was still new so at first you didn’t know how to respond and then you followed what your heart wanted to do, ignoring every awkward warning in your mind.
He needed comfort. Your lover who risked his life and gave his heart to you needed reassurance and comfort from you. You ran over to him and hugged him as tightly as you could with your injury, wiping his tears and kissing him sweetly. Some of the monkeys climbed next to you to watch you guide Sun through a breathing exercise. “In…1….2…3….4….out…2…3…4.. That’s it.”
You reassured him that you did indeed want to spend the rest of your life with him, there was no doubt in your mind. “Sun Wukong, I don’t wanna leave you one day and I love you so much. Even if it’s still early in our relationship, I would give my life in exchange for having eternity by your side.” The king is shocked and stops crying slowly, sniffling and looking right into your eyes. He could see it, you weren’t lying and it was the same devotion and strength that drew him towards you in the first place.
You helped him up and waved the crowd of monkeys to follow you to the side cavern that had holes for the sun to peek in and a waterfall flowing into a small underwater cave system and river. There long ago the Great Sage had taken the seeds from the immortal peaches and planted them in the grass there, originally it just for him but now it had grown into a place of comfort for him, holding such a strong and powerful gift. Jumping to grab a peach and having some help from one of his siblings, you took it in your hands and felt the soft fuzz.
“I want to stay with you.” You gathered his hands in yours so both of you were holding the fruit and lifted up to your mouth, taking a bite and chewing it as you relished the soft taste. Wukong smiled so lovingly at your actions and did the same, biting the opposite side of the peach and humming at the familiar but sweet taste. All the monkeys around you slowly came towards and hugged you, some let out whoops of joy, and others ran outside (if you had to guess to inform others that their royal older brother had taken a mate for life).
Six Eared Macaque
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…….so…….the topic of death for him is a very difficult subject to breach in the first place and getting him to open up, reassuring him you do truly love him and aren’t going to leave or betray him took a while. Macaque is already very protective of you and there have been several close calls where you’ve been close to dying every time his anxiety spikes, the dark voices in his mind whisper how some day you’ll leave this mortal plane leaving him alone again, and death tormenting him in the worst way.
One day he goes to visit you and when you don’t answer he knocks again….and again, after two or three minutes he invites himself in and calls out your name. If not for his hearing he wouldn’t have heard you faintly whisper his name and the sound of your heart beating slowly, your body sounded wrong and badly damaged but you hadn’t been injured in a battle so what was wrong? Macaque got his answer when he stepped into your room and you brightly flushed with the covers pulled up to your chin, a trash full of used tissues by your bedside table alongside a bucket he could guess for vomiting.
“What happened? Lotus you were fine a couple of days ago-“ You held your hand out and he sat on your bed, cradling your head in his lap and giving you water before you spoke. “Meningitis.” A cough spilled from your lips and you held your head in pain, groaning and blindly reaching for pain pills. Your boyfriend used his tail to grab them and help you swallow them, rubbing comforting circles on your hand. “My brain is swelling which is causing me to be sick and my prescribed medications aren’t stopping it. It suddenly came on and if I don’t get the right help or get better then I’ll die.”
You didn’t mean to freak him out but hiding it would make it worse and you held Macaque’s hand as he tried to suppress his panic attack, trembling and murmuring pleas to anyone or anything to not take you away from him all as you could only hold his hand. Too weak to stand for longer than two minutes. With tears streaming down his face he cupped your face and took a deep breath, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and now is certainly not the “right” time but I can’t live in a world without you. I love you too much to live the rest of my immortality without you and I would rather die a second time, so….”
“Yes.” He stopped and met your gaze, you nodded and reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting tears roll down your cheeks. “Macaque from the moment I met you I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life and if it means being immortal with you then I gladly accept. Do whatever you need to do.” He nodded and borrowed your laptop to search for myths of immortality elixirs or artifacts that would help you become immortal, the entire day your lover spent caring for you while also finding something for eternal life.
That’s when he found the ingredients to make an elixir of immortality, entrusting your care to MK and Sandy before heading off into the forest. After days of search, he finally found it, he almost got his arm chopped off but it was worth it for you, Macaque rushed back to you and peppered you full of kisses. Soon enough he came back into your room with a cup full of herbal tea with Blood-red cinnabar and gleaming gold; fickle mercury and fiery sulfur mixed in and sat you up to drink it, “Take it slow, lotus. You’re still sick.” You slowly drank the cup until it was empty and both of you waited with baited breath until you could take a deep breath, already sounding so much better according to his six ears.
267 notes · View notes
proxima-writes · 1 year
Text
change your mind
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Word Count: 6,575
Read on AO3
Summary:
Five times Eddie Munson asks you to marry him, and the one time you say yes.
Author’s Note: This is meant to be read after “nothing else matters”, but can be read as a stand alone.
Additional tags: rockstar Eddie Munson, high school sweethearts, marriage proposal, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names, semi-public sex, idiots in love
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— 1 —
It’s the summer of 1984 when you first really meet Eddie Munson.
Sure, you’ve seen him around school. You’ve heard his cafeteria monologues. You’ve even seen him and his band perform at the talent show. But he’s always been just beyond your orbit. The crowd you hang out with the most in school, while not the most popular kids by any means, didn’t typically leave much opportunity for getting to know the leather wearing metal head.
You’re in your backyard, reading a book under the porch light. After a long, hot day at the pool working as a lifeguard, the mild chill of the summer evening is a welcome reprieve. When you look out over the yard, dots of light come and go as fireflies flit about the grass.
It’s perfect.
That is, until you hear a scrambling noise near your fence line, followed by a loud thump and a pained groan. Startled, you jump from your seat and tug open the screen door to the house, reaching in and grabbing the shotgun your dad keeps there.
Gun held in both hands, just like your dad taught you, you tiptoe out into the yard to investigate.
You spot the source of the noise quickly. A lump in the grass, barely illuminated by the light of the moon and your distant porch lights. The lump shifts, rolling over and you catch a glimpse of curly brown hair and pale skin.
When he finally opens his eyes and notices you standing there, gun aimed at him, he scrambles to his knees and holds his hands up, brown eyes wide in panic as he says, “Hey, hey, hey, let’s put the gun down, yeah?”
You roll your eyes, flicking the safety back on and setting it down. “Care to explain why you’re in my yard, then? You gave me a heart attack, Eddie!”
“Hopper caught me spray painting the old mill down the road. Had to lose him somehow.” He stands, brushing the grass off of his black jeans. He eyes you curiously. “You know my name?”
“We go to school together. Of course I know your name.”
“Ah, my infamy precedes me.”
“It’s not infamy, it's your loud mouth in the cafeteria yelling about how ABBA is an affront to music.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Dancing Queen is a good song.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, princess, did I personally offend you?” He asks, voice teasing. “Bet if you listened to the lyrical mastermind that is Ozzy, you would forget all about ABBA.”
“I think Paranoid was better than Master of Reality, ” you reply.
“Marry me,” he says, making you laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles at you, and not for the first time, you think, Huh, Eddie Munson is kinda cute.
“Not a chance, Munson.”
— 2 —
In the fall of 1984, you began your junior year. It had started out just the same as any other year - new classes, same faces. But one face in the crowd caught your eye more regularly.
And you caught his right back.
Sometimes, when you were spacing out during lunch listening to your friends talk about their weekend plans, your eyes would seek out that head of messy curls. And sometimes, you would find that he was already staring back at you.
And that distraction is what leads to him standing from his table without looking and slamming straight into Jason Carver, his lunch tray spilling the Wednesday Spaghetti special all over his precious letterman jacket.
“Watch where you’re going, freak,” Jason shouts, shoving Eddie by the shoulders.
Eddie, being the little shit that he is, just smiles. “Oh, my sincerest apologies, King Jason,” he replies with a sarcastic little bow. “Baking soda should take care of those stains.”
You can practically see the steam coming out of Jason’s ears. Eddie turns to leave, eyes finding yours again, but Jason reaches out and grabs his shoulder, turning him back to face him and throwing a fist right into his jaw.
You’re out of your seat before you can even think about it. Kids crowd around the two boys, chanting their encouragement to fight. Eddie stands back up, ducking another punch from Jason.
You shove your way through the crowd, planting yourself in front of Eddie just as Jason throws another swing that narrowly misses you. “Cut it out,” you shout above the noise.
“Move,” Jason demands, an angry gaze still fixed on Eddie. “What, you need a girl to defend you, Munson?”
And that comment pisses you off. Your dad didn’t spend hours every weekend when you were a young girl teaching you how to throw a punch for no reason. Your arm winds back, fingers curled tight in a fist that you let fly right into his nose. He stumbles back, hands flying to his face and coming away covered in blood.
“Holy shit,” Eddie says behind you. “That was awesome.”
Principal Higgins charges through the crowd. He takes in Jason’s bloody face, and turns to you and Eddie. “Detention. This afternoon.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off with a hand and a sigh of your name. “I will deal with you two later. Mr. Carver needs to see the nurse.” With that, he leads the school golden boy out of the cafeteria by the arm.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie says. You turn to face him as the students disperse back to their seats. You can feel their uncertain glances bouncing off your back.
“Yeah, well. Jason’s a dick,” you mutter. You don’t give him a chance to reply, heading back to your table to grab your backpack and head to class before the bell rings.
___
After an hour of staring at a chalkboard in silence, Mr. Clark, the hefty P.E. teacher with the shiny bald spot, finally dismisses you and Eddie from the classroom.
You’re out of your seat like a rocket and halfway down the hall before you hear Eddie’s voice call out behind you.
When you turn to face him, he’s grinning ear to ear. You can’t imagine why - you’d just spent an hour being tortured by silence. He holds a hand out, and you look down at the twisted piece of straw wrapper pinched between his fingers in confusion.
“Marry me?” Eddie asks, reminding you of the night that he’d fallen into your backyard and asked the same question.
With a laugh, you take the ring and slip it onto your ring finger. “Not a chance, Munson,” you say with a wink, turning on your heel to leave.
“I’ll change your mind!” He calls out after you.
— 3 —
It’s February in 1985 when Eddie Munson first asks you out.
He’s been leaving you notes in your locker every week for the last few months. Sometimes it's an actual note, his messy handwriting detailing some crazy story he’d come up with for his Dungeons and Dragons club, or asking you a series of questions that you’d reply to with a note of your own, slipped into his locker in between classes.
Other times, it's a drawing. While his handwriting leaves a lot to be desired, his artistry is impressive. One such drawing was a vase of sunflowers, which you had off-handedly mentioned as your favorite. You’d stuck that one to your locker door with a matching magnet the same day.
One day, however, you approach your locker at the end of the day to find a crumpled brown paper bag stuck to the metal door with duct tape. Opening it, you find a cassette tape in a plastic cover, the track list scribbled in familiar handwriting.
It takes you all of three seconds to realize most of the songs are off of Black Sabbath’s Paranoid album, which makes you smile like a fool.
Later, in the privacy of your room, you play the songs on a low enough volume to not wake your dad, sitting near your speaker to catch the lyrics. It’s a little after 11 p.m. when you hear a tap at your window.
You push the curtain aside and jump slightly in surprise when Eddie’s grinning face stares back from the other side of the glass. You lift the window open to whisper, “What are you doing here?”
“Come on, I got something to show you,” he says, his whole body moving with barely contained excitement. “But we gotta go, like, now.”
“Eddie, it’s almost midnight,” you say by way of protest.
“Exactly, come on, we don’t have a lot of time.” He leans through your open window, looking you head to toe. “Put on a sweater and get your shoes on.”
Confused, but intrigued, you do as he says. He helps you through the window before you slowly close it, careful not to make too much noise. You follow him to his van that he’s parked a little ways down from your house.
“Where are we going?” You ask, stepping quickly to keep up with his longer strides. He opens the passenger door for you, shutting it as you sit in the seat without responding. His van smells like weed and cigarette smoke, but not overwhelmingly. It’s almost comforting.
He turns the van on, pulling away from the curb and heading north, towards the dense woods surrounding Hawkins. He’s got the radio turned low, a Metallica sound filling the silence around you. His fingers tap to the beat on the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say anything.
You drive like that for a while, heading further out from Hawkins to where the town gives way to dense forest and the inky black sky lights up with more stars than you get to see back at home. Eddie pulls off to the side of the road, near a field that borders the roadway before it disappears into towering pine.
He hops out of the van and runs around the hood to open your door, holding a hand out to you. It’s so dark you can barely see anything as you drop down from the passenger seat, clinging to his hand. He brings you to the back and opens the van doors, revealing a pile of blankets that you hadn’t noticed during the drive.
He turns to you, a hand running through his hair as he says, “There’s a meteor shower tonight. It starts in-,” he checks his watch, “-thirty minutes. I thought, maybe, we could…watch it. I got us some Red Vines, too.”
You blink rapidly, your brain trying to catch up. “A meteor shower?”
“Yeah. Heard about it on the radio. This should be a pretty clear place to watch it,” he says. “You said your favorite book is The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because you like the idea of traveling through space. I don’t have a starship, so the meteor shower is the compromise.”
“I can’t believe you remember I said that,” you tell him. You’d mentioned it off-handedly in one of your replies to his notes.
“I remember everything you tell me,” he replies easily, shrugging like it's no big deal.
“This is….so sweet, Eddie,” you tell him honestly. He lets out a breath, like he’d been nervous about how you would respond. You can’t imagine why.
Doesn’t he know you’ve been halfway in love with him since pointing a shotgun at him for interrupting your reading?
He grins, bright and happy before hopping up into the pile of blankets and situating himself. He pulls out the aforementioned bag of Red Vines and pats the space beside him. You clamber up into the spot, sitting cross legged with your knee touching his and sending sparks across your skin at the contact.
He holds a bright red rope out to you and you take it happily, munching on it as you stare up at the sky. A streak of lights moves in your periphery and you jump in excitement. “I think I saw one!”
Your eyes are glued to the sky as the intermittent streaks of meteors slash through the darkness, but Eddie watches you instead.
He pulls another Red Vine from the pack, tying it in a knot with a small loop at the end.
“Marry me?” He asks, holding the makeshift ring out to you.
“Not a chance, Munson,” you reply, making him laugh. You bite the candy from his fingers with a grin.
“I’ll change your mind,” he promises for the second time.
— 4 —
It’s the summer of 1986. You’ve graduated high school and Eddie finally has as well, by the skin of his teeth and maybe with a little help from you on his homework.
College wasn’t really in your cards financially, so you’re working at The Hideout as a bartender on the weekends and at a record store throughout the week. Eddie, on the other hand, has been focusing on making music for Corroded Coffin between shifts at the factory where his Uncle Wayne also works. You still live with your dad, but you don’t mind it. He gives you enough privacy and is often away on construction jobs around the state for long periods of time.
On one such occasion, blessed with an empty house, you ask Eddie to come stay with you.
You’ve been dating since he took you to watch the meteor shower. It’s your first relationship, your first boyfriend, your first everything, really. Eddie is sweet, attentive, caring, and hasn’t once pressured you into anything you’re not yet ready for.
But tonight, you’re ready. You are so, so ready.
The pizza has already been delivered. You’ve rented Back to the Future for the third time, which means neither of you would be missing out if you happened to be busy with…other activities. You’ve got a box of condoms stashed in the couch cushions, just in case.
There’s a knock at your door and you swipe your sweaty palms on the fabric of your dress, the cute red sundress that’s been known to make Eddie’s brain short circuit.
You pull the door open to Eddie’s smiling face. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. I got that wine you like. Don’t know how it’s going to pair with pizza.” He leans forward to kiss you, a soft peck to your lips in greeting that already lights up your nerves.
“Thanks,” you say, taking the bottle from him. You move aside to let him in, shutting the door behind you. He turns, slipping an arm around your waist and tugging you until you're pressed tightly to him.
“This dress,” he murmurs, running his nose along your neck, nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “This dress drives me crazy.”
You hold back the whimper of need lodged in your throat as he peppers you with little kisses, fingers curling against your ribs. He pulls away before it gets too far, just as he always does, and you mourn the loss.
You follow him to the kitchen and set the wine next to the pizza box. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Your dad got any beer?” He asks, taking a seat at the table and flipping the box open. “Oh, pineapple!”
You grab a beer from the fridge for him and a glass for the wine. As you’re walking past, Eddie grabs your hand and gives it a little tug, guiding you until you’re sitting on his lap.
“You okay?” He asks, one hand on your back and the other just above your knee, his calloused fingers lightly gripping the bare skin of your thigh.
“Huh?”
“I asked if you’re okay. You’re acting a little funny.” His brow furrows in concern as he searches your face. “Do you not want me to stay over anymore?”
“No! I mean, yes! Yes, I want you to stay.” You take a breath. “Do you want to eat the pizza in the living room? We can start the movie.”
He regards you for a moment longer before shrugging and saying, “Sure. Lead the way.”
He grabs the pizza box while you get plates. In the living room, you press play on the VCR before taking a seat beside Eddie, leaving a few inches between your bodies out of nervousness, hoping he doesn’t notice.
But he does.
He frowns at the space before glancing at you, while you resolutely stare into the pizza box like it holds all the answers in the universe.
Look, the fact of the matter is, Eddie is more experienced than you and the knowledge of that leaves you torn. On one hand, you’re glad to (hopefully) be going into this with someone who knows what he’s doing so that you’re not just fumbling in the dark.
On the other hand, you’re scared to death he’s going to think you’re some boring virgin. You don’t think he would. It would be wildly out of character for him to be cruel like that. But there’s still a tiny part of your stupid brain telling you otherwise.
And you know he’s into some heavy stuff. You’ve snooped through his room before, found the copies of Heavy Metal magazine that featured women bound, gagged, blindfolded. Bent over with red hand prints blooming on their asses. Knelt on the ground in front of some faceless man, doe eyed expressions tilted up in submission. Seeing all of it had made you squirm, skin going hot at the thought of Eddie doing any number of those things to you.
Until you remembered that you’ve never even had sex yet and can’t possibly live up to that sort of expectation. You stare blankly at the TV as you have your internal struggle, the images of Doc and Matt McFly on their wacky adventure not even registering as you bite into your pizza.
“Alright,” Eddie says, snatching the pizza out of your hands and tossing it back into the box sitting on the coffee table.
“Hey!” You protest, gaping at him. He lifts you by the waist until you’re in his lap for the second time that night, legs spread on either side of him. It’s not an unfamiliar position - you’ve had plenty of heated make out sessions sitting just like this. The edges of his belt buckle press into your belly as he grips your hips.
“Come on, spill it. What’s the matter?” He asks, face serious as his brown eyes search yours. His fingers inch up, digging into your ribs, making you giggle and squirm over him. “What’s got you so tense, baby?”
Rather than answer, you grip his face in your palms and tug his lips to yours. He’s soft at first, tentative like he’s unsure this is the right course of action to take when he’d been trying to get to the bottom of why you were acting weird. But he’s only human, after all, and when your lips part to allow his tongue to tangle with yours, his reservations fly out the window.
You’ve kissed boys before, but it’s never been like this. Never been all consuming, like you can feel him with every cell of your being. You shift in his lap, pressing as close as possible. Eddie’s hands land on your hips, stilling your movement as he pants against you.
“Christ, you gotta slow down,” he bites out, teeth gritted. His eyes are dark and half-lidded with lust, a look you’ve seen only in flashes before one of you pulled back for a breath.
“I don’t want to slow down anymore,” you whisper.
His eyes go comically wide. “Are you sure?”
In response, you grip the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head and dropping it to the floor behind you. You fight the urge to cover yourself, feeling more exposed than you ever have as his gaze roams your body, taking in your breasts in a simple cotton bra and the high cut panties to match.
“Ed—“
Your voice cuts off in a yelp as Eddie flips you onto your back on the couch cushions, his body wedged between your thighs as he looks down on you with a smirk. He licks his lips as he trails a hand from your neck, between the valley of your chest, over your tummy. Your muscles clench and you feel the pinch of goosebumps in the wake of his fingers.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, voice deeper than you’ve ever heard. He plants a kiss to the spot near your ear that’s extra sensitive. “How’d I get so lucky, huh? Pretty thing,” he coos. Your eyes go wide and your mouth goes dry at his words, and you try to lift your hips for some friction to relieve the pressure building between your legs.
He continues to plant kisses down your neck, nipping the thin skin with his teeth. The pain makes you bite out a labored curse that makes him chuckle.
“Tell me what you want, princess,” he says. “I’ll give you everything your sweet little brain can come up with.”
“I want…I want you to touch me.”
“I'm already doing that. Try again.” One of his hands slides under your back, nimble fingers popping the hook of your bra. “And be very specific.”
Your cheeks burn as he gazes at you expectantly. “I want you…to touch me down there.”
“Oh? Here?” He runs his thumb over your clit, the sudden sensation making you cry out. “You want me to touch your pretty pussy?”
You feel like you’re in danger of spontaneously combusting with how hot you feel all over. All you can do is nod vigorously as Eddie curls his hands into the waist of your panties and tugs them down and off your legs.
“Hold your legs up for me,” Eddie says, grabbing your hands and positioning them beneath your knees. “Let me get a good look at you.”
He leans back, down exactly that, staring down at your exposed body with reverence. You try to close your legs, but his hands on your thighs stop you as he makes a disapproving noise with his tongue.
“Good girls do as they’re told, princess. You wanna be a good girl for me right?” He asks, tone condescending in a way that makes a new wave of lust wash over you. With a whimper, you nod in reply. “Words,” he demands.
“Y-yeah. I wanna be a good girl,” you whisper.
“You wanna be my good girl,” he clarifies.
“I wanna be your good girl.”
“Christ.” He leans forward, grasping your face in his hand and kissing you senseless. He pulls away all too quickly, planting frantic kisses to your neck, shoving your bra out of the way to palm your tits, alternating between circling one hardened nipple with his thumb or his tongue. Your back arches and you squirm beneath him.
“You’re a little sensitive, aren’t you?” He asks, that mean tone back in his words.
He doesn’t wait for your reply as he moves on, those lips trailing down your tummy until they’re nipping and kissing at your inner thighs. He brings his thumbs to your wet heat, using them to spread you open before dragging his tongue through your folds.
“Eddie!”
“Fuck ,” he groans, tongue circling your clit in a maddening rhythm. He alternates between the sensitive nub and dipping the tip of his tongue into your entrance.
You’re pretty sure you’re having an out of body experience. His mouth feels so good, pulling every drop of pleasure possible from your body. All the blood rushes from your head and you writhe beneath him in desperation.
There’s a firm pressure at your slick hole and your eyes pop open, your head lifting from the couch to watch as he slides one finger into you until his ring is biting against your hot flesh. Your mouth drops open and his eyes lift to yours, his face damn near unrecognizable as he thrusts the digit in and out of you.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he bites out. “I’m going to add another finger, and you’re gonna come all over my hand and my face before I give you my cock.”
“Oh my god,” you say, the words breathless and needy as he slips another finger in, the stretch a slight burn that subsides quickly. His fingers curl and drag against something that makes you cry out. And when you do, he smirks, lowering his face to tongue your clit in tandem with the thrust of his hand.
You come with a shout, the noises of his hand lewd and wet as he works you through it. Your hands slip from your legs, unable to hold up the dead weight of them as you shake beneath him.
Eddie leans back, standing from the couch and scrambling out of his clothes in a way that would be comical if your brain wasn’t turned to mush. But as he tugs his pants down his thighs, your brain suddenly catches up with the program and you drink in the sight of him greedily.
The lines of compact muscle, the contrast of his tattoos against his pale skin, the light dusting of hair at the top of his chest and the matching trail that leads to…
Holy shit.
His cock is hard, an angry red at the head that looks almost painful. You have nothing to compare him to besides your own fingers but you know damn well that he’s thick and long enough to make you nervous.
He joins you on the couch, one knee planted to the cushions between your legs. He fists his length, giving it a leisurely pump as he stares down at your boneless body.
“There’s, uh, condoms. Behind the cushion,” you tell him, the words making you blush for what feels like the millionth time that evening.
“Oh? Did my sweet, innocent little princess prepare for this? Did my little slut want my cock so bad tonight?” He asks. Your eyes go wide and a moan claws up your throat. “Ah, she likes that, huh?”
You nod vigorously. He reaches a hand behind the back cushions, fishing for the box. He pulls a foil package out of the box and tears it open. “Eyes on me,” he says as he rolls the latex over his cock.
He plants a palm beside your head, his other hand gripping his cock and guiding it until the head is positioned at your weeping entrance. “This might hurt a little, baby. You gotta tell me if it’s too much.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
His eyes go soft. With a sweet kiss to your lips, a juxtaposition to the man who’d just called you a little slut. He presses forward, the blunt head of him slipping inside you with little resistance.
There’s a bite of pressure as he moves forward, your body giving way to the intrusion with a slight sting that subsides a delicious fullness. He pauses once his hips are flush to yours, a hand coming up to brush across your forehead, moving the sweat slick strands of hair from your face.
“You okay?” He asks. You nod, tilting your chin up for a kiss. He indulges you, smiling into it in a way that makes your heart flutter.
Eddie holds himself like that for a while, kissing you and letting you adjust. When the burn subsides and you’re just left with a slight ache and a new sensation of fullness, you shift your hips slightly under him.
He draws back slightly, the drag of his cock making you gasp and all the breath leaving your lungs as he drives back in. He sets a pace of short, hard thrusts that have you digging your nails into his back, dragging them down and leaving blooming red trails in the skin.
“That’s it, sweetheart, you mark me up however you want,” Eddie grunts. His thrusts become longer, deeper, more of a roll of his hips than a pound. A hand circles your throat, the grip gentle as his fingers press into the sides. “Sweet little angel, gripping my cock so tight.”
“Oh god,” you cry. Eddie leans back, the angle growing deeper. He brings his other hand to your lips, three of his fingers slipping inside your mouth. You run your tongue over the familiar calluses and he groans low in his throat.
Those spit slick fingers leave your mouth and he circles them over your clit roughly. “I want this little cunt to give me everything.”
With a whimper, the tightening of your belly releases in a wave, surprising you with its ferocity. The sensation is so unlike any of the times you’ve spent in the dark, your own hands exploring your body.
Eddie thrusts a few more times, his tempo stuttering as he chases his own release. He stills against you, hips pressed tightly to yours as he moans your name.
He pulls out of you, twisting to the side so that he’s lying sandwiched between your body and the couch so as not to crush you. He throws an arm over your waist, burying his head against your neck with a satisfied sigh.
“You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Munson,” you say. He laughs against your cooling skin.
“Would show you a good time for the rest of our lives if you’ll marry me,” he replies.
You huff out a little laugh before saying, “Not a chance.”
“I’ll change your mind.”
And not for the first time, you realize he’s right.
— 5 —
It’s the summer of 1990, and Corroded Coffin has a top hit on the radio and their first big gig out on the road tonight in Chicago.
You’re backstage at the venue, sitting in the green room and watching Eddie pace nervously. He looks especially fuckable, to the point you’re having trouble concentrating on his anxious monologue.
Denim battle vest, the same one that’s served him since high school, draped over his bare shoulders and exposing the muscle of his biceps and tantalizing peeks of his abs and chest. His hair is the longest it’s been but still the messy curls you love to run your hands through. He’s applied a smudge of eyeliner around his eyes, making his brown eyes larger and more hypnotizing.
Dear god, you’re going to combust.
“Are you even listening?” He asks, stopping dead in his tracks with his hands on his hips.
You smirk at him. “Not really. I already know you’re worrying about nothing. I’m just thinking about how fast I can make you come before you go on stage.”
His mouth drops open in surprise, but his eyes go dark. “Get in the bathroom. Now.”
You hop up from the ratty couch, sliding your hand over his stomach as you pass and throwing him a wink. He follows in behind you, shutting the door forcefully and flipping the lock.
His hand wraps around the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and pulling you into a bruising kiss. On a breath he murmurs, “I love you.”
“Love you more, Munson.”
“Now get on your fucking knees.”
You drop like a rock, the linoleum cold against your knees, the fabric of your fishnets uncomfortable ywhere it presses against your skin. Eddie unbuttons his fly, pulling his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans. He grips the bottom of your jaw in one hand and growls out, “Open your mouth.”
You do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out and waiting for him to slide his length into your waiting mouth. He taps the tip against your tongue, teasing you, before he slips it past your lips and into the wet heat.
“That’s it, baby,” Eddie whispers. “Just like that.”
You let Eddie set the pace he needs, both of his hands digging into your hair in a tight hold as he uses your mouth. You’ve got spit leaking out of the corners of your lips and your eyes are watering from the lack of air, but you just look up at him through your lashes and moan.
“Christ, you have no idea, no idea , what you do to me, princess,” he groans, his head dropping back, hips moving faster but more shallowly.
There’s a hard knock at the door and the band’s new manager, Steven, calls through the flimsy wood, “You better get your ass out here, Munson, you’re on in five.”
But Eddie just keeps going, ignoring the man that holds the power to make or break his career in his hands, growling out, “Eyes on me.”
Your lashes are sticky with tears and mascara as you look up and watch him unravel, the ecstasy running across his features making your core clench. His release hits the back of your throat and you swallow around him.
When he’s done, he pulls you up by the hair, gripping your chin and hauling you into a rough kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth even as it tastes of him.
He pulls away, his thumbs swiping beneath your eyes to clean up the black streaks left by your mascara. “Marry me?” Eddie asks, and you smile at him.
Another knock sounds at the door. “Alright, lovebirds. Two minutes.”
“You better get out there and knock ‘em dead, Eds,” you murmur, leaning your forehead against his.
“Just for you,” he tells you with a wink, pulling back to right himself in his pants. He flips the lock on the door and pulls it open, the dark bathroom flooding with light.
The rest of the guys are crowded in the green room and Steve looks at Eddie and rolls his eyes. “Finally. Alright, boys, let’s show ‘em what you’ve got.”
He leads them out of the room and to the stage and you trail behind, finding a spot stage right to watch from the wings. Your face hurts from smiling so hard, watching the same boys who used to play in a garage playing on a stage in front of a crowd screaming along with them, for them.
“You’ve been an amazing crowd, Chicago!” Eddie screams into the mic. The answering roar is deafening. “We’ve got one more song and it’s a brand new one.”
A melody you don’t recognize fills the concert hall. The intro is heavy on Eddie and Jeff’s guitars and as Eddie begins to sing, Frankie and Gareth join in.
I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy
I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need
I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do
I will be strong, I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on
A new beginnin'
A reason for livin'
A deeper meaning, yeah
Eddie’s face is tilted in your direction as he sings, eyes finding yours as he starts in on the chorus.
I wanna stand with you on a mountain
I wanna bathe with you in the sea
I wanna lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me
You smile at him, your eyes stinging at the emotion welling in them.
And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky
I'll make a wish, send it to heaven and make you want to cry
The tears of joy for all the pleasure and the certainty
That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection
Of the highest powers
In lonely hours
The tears devour you
And devour you they do.
— +1 —
Eddie’s got one hand on the wheel and the other in the pocket of his leather jacket, fingers running along the sharp corners of the box he's hidden away in there.
You’re beside him in the passenger seat, practically bouncing in excitement. It’s 1991, one year to the day of the release of Corroded Coffin’s first hit record. They’ve been on one tour already, but he’s home for a three month stretch and now that you’re both in a good place financially, you’re looking at houses to buy to get out of the little two bedroom apartment you’d been renting.
“This is so exciting,” you say for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, Eddie grins at you. “Our first house!”
“I feel like we did this backwards. Should we have bought a house before buying a dive bar? Is that the normal order?” You’d used a portion of your savings to buy The Hideout from Hank, who finally retired to Florida content in the knowledge that the bar was in the safe hands of the girl he’d begrudgingly hired fresh out of high school and couldn’t shake himself loose from.
You smack him in the arm. “Shut up. Who cares. You’ve always done things your own way. Why stop now?”
“You’re right.” He grabs your hand, planting a kiss to your knuckles.
“I hope this one is nice,” you comment, staring out the window. Eddie smiles to himself.
He’d picked this one to go see. In fact, he’s already been to it and immediately placed an offer on it. You think you’re meeting up with a realtor, but the keys dangle from his key ring already.
Eddie pulls up to the little three bedroom, two bathroom ranch situated about five miles north of The Hideout. The lots are large, the homes bordered in the back by thick woods. The one he’s purchased is a deep navy blue with a bright red door and he watches your eyes take it in.
“Oh, it’s adorable,” you say wistfully. You jump from the passenger seat, looking around. “Where’s the realtor? You told him noon, didn’t you?”
“Oh, we don’t need a realtor,” Eddie says. You tilt your head at him, brow furrowed. “I bought it.”
“You bought it?”
“Yep.”
“You bought a house?”
“Yep.”
“You bought this house?”
“Sure did.” He holds the key up to you. “Go ahead.”
You snatch it from his hand and run up the front walk, shouldering your way in. Eddie trails it behind you and watches as you run from room to room, your smile growing bigger and brighter with each pass.
“This closet!” He hears you shout from the master bedroom. “It’s bigger than our bedroom at the apartment!”
He chuckles as he goes to the living room and stands in the center, lowering himself to one knee and pulling the ring box from his pocket. He settles in to wait for you to find him.
It doesn’t take long. You tear into the room, speaking a mile a minute about how you want to decorate, but you stop short when you see him there.
Eddie swallows nervously. He’s asked you to marry him since the first time he’s met you, and you’d always told him, “Not a chance.”
Over time, the exchange became more synonymous with any other couple saying “I love you” and “I love you, too”, just with your own flair.
But now, he means it. And he lifts the lid of the box to show the plain silver band sitting in the velvet. “Hey, princess. You ready to change your mind?”
You rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and toppling the two of you to the ground in a heap. You grab his face, kissing him deeply.
“That a yes?” He asks when you break apart, breathless and panting.
“It’s most definitely a yes, Munson.” You grin at him as he lifts your left hand and slips the ring onto it.
Right where it belongs.
383 notes · View notes
jo-harrington · 1 year
Text
Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 5)
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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
Word Count: 14.1k
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)
Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.
Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.
Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, fluff, love, smut, mutual pining, Character development, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Hey Guess What) , Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping
Note: Ok guys, here we are. Only 4 hours late and with no PiV because I'm a lying bitch but I will write a oneshot if we want it. Holy shit, but can I say that this is the first "series" that I have finished writing. I talk a big fucking game about writing fics for so long, but man those were LONG FICS that I abandoned hundreds of thousands of words in, or they were all oneshots that now only live on my old computer. The ending, I hope, is not disappointing, but I literally didn't want it to be left up to interpretation. Thank you @ghost-proofbaby for tamping my insecurities down with this one. If I am the brains of this series, you for sure are the heart. And let's not forget @shiftingtherain once again for inspiring this whole thing to begin with.
This chapter is unedited...but I am tired and sweaty and happy. So have fun.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
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"You're lucky I don't have to--shit!" Robin's eyes went as Steve opened the door to the trailer and she got a view of his--Eddie's--face. She reached out, as if to touch the swollen bruising, but second guessed herself and her hands immediately found the straps of her backpack. "What happened to you?"
"Eddie happened," Steve grumbled miserably.
"Eddie?!" Robin shrieked and Steve immediately shushed her and swatted her into the trailer. He pointed to Wayne, who was--thankfully--dead asleep and snoring on the fold-out bed, then ushered her back towards Eddie's room.
He'd felt...somewhat guilty early on when he realized that Wayne slept out there on the uncomfortable fold-out while "Eddie" had a room and a bed, and had tried to offer to swap, but Wayne grumbled something along the lines of "if I told you once, I told you a thousand times."
"Eddie did this?" Robin asked once the bedroom door was shut behind her. "Did he lose his mind?! Why would he punch you? You two are supposed to be...seeing through one another's eyes and all that shit. Working together to get back into your own bodies."
Steve felt his stomach drop.
He had stewed on it all night Friday and all day Saturday as he hid in Eddie's room and wallowed in shame. The sick sort of triumph he felt when he got that response from Eddie--as impulsive and fueled by anger as his own words had been--had faded and as the mottled colors began stitching together and spreading across his skin, the realization of just what he had said had settled in. And with every moment that the ache in his face became more pronounced, his guilt grew.
"I...I might have...fucked up," he admitted. Robin's expression went from one of shock to one of annoyance, and Steve immediately launched into a recap of Friday night. Hell...of everything that he'd been keeping from her.
Because, truth be told, he had been.
Steve knew that Robin was more in touch with her emotions, or rather...acknowledged them at the very least instead of simply ignoring them. She was smart as a whip and when she made you face the truth, it stung just as badly. He had told her that he'd been getting tutoring sessions...just not from who. Every time he brought up Nancy...well...Robin wasn't her biggest fan. Really not because of anything that she had done...except break Steve's heart...but because he couldn't get over her no matter how hard he tried.
And if he was being honest with himself, he hadn't...really tried too hard.
Steve hoped Robin would see things from his perspective, though. Her expression remained stony as he explained everything, but her emotions shone through her eyes as he poured his heart out. As he admitted to all the mistakes he made.
"I don't...I don't really believe those things," Steve explained truthfully. "But when I get hurt? When I'm desperate and overwhelmed? I just...lash out. You know this. And there's so much I've had to keep inside and this whole experience.
"Rob...you've gotta believe me, it's been shit. Eddie's right, his life is hard...I really don't know how he does it but...damn my life sucks too alright? So I figured, if I could have one thing, just one thing, to make it all worth it...this might be it.
"But I don't know why...why he wouldn't just let me have this," he concluded and ran a hand over his face, wincing as he pressed into his black eye.
"Alright, you're not just a dingus, you're a real bonehead," Robin rolled her eyes. "You and Eddie both! This whole situation isn't some treat for either of you, it's supposed to be a lesson."
"I know that!" Steve threw his hands out to gesture at himself. "But I'm still Eddie and Eddie's still me. So what lesson? What is selfless love?"
"Because you haven't...you haven't..." Robin sighed and ran her hands through her bangs. "Maybe we're working backwards? We're trying to find...selfless love. But...but the spell said there was a prize reflected in each other's eyes. What about self love? Gotta love yourself before you love someone else right? Or whatever bullshit those self help people say on the Oprah show."
"That's bullshit Rob, I don't love myself," Steve grumbled. "In fact, I hate myself...a lot."
"Ok ok," she pointed at him. "See and you thought Eddie had it all, that he loved his life. You told me so yourself. You were jealous because he had it all."
"But he doesn't."
"And he thought you had it all? But now he's realizing you don't," she reasoned.
The more Robin talked and rambled, the more she made sense. She snapped her fingers and waved her hands around, as though willing the solution into her head.
"Ok," Steve sighed. "We've figured out that no...we don't actually like being one another...so what gives? Why haven't we switched back?"
Robin gasped and grabbed Steve by the shoulders to shake him.
"It's Nancy! You idiot!" she hissed.
"Nancy?" Steve frowned. "Nancy's not stuck in someone else's body, I am."
"No!" Robin groaned. "You were on the right track but you started thinking with your dick when you thought that you could get back with Nancy!"
Steve began to fidget.
Was it...could that have been the answer all along?
He refused to believe it.
"We loved each other!"
"But you loved her more than she loved you," Robin explained, mirroring words he had once confided in her right back to him. "And you refused to let her go. And now you would quite literally be someone else entirely to get her back."
"She doesn't love Steve," he signed. "But she might love Eddie."
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Robin stared at him, dumbfounded. "You are not Eddie Munson. You have to let her go. You have to accept yourself, and if that means letting Nancy go, then it's the right thing to do. You need to apologize to Eddie...and you need to fix this."
Steve's mind raced; he knew, deep down, it was all true but...he just couldn't accept that it was just that easy.
"Ok, ok, b-but there has to be another way," Steve attempted to deflect and Robin groaned and rolled her eyes. "No, wait, hear me out here. I...I could...help him get a job at the dealership--"
"Not gonna help when you are still Eddie and you don't know shit about cars," Robin reasoned.
Steve pushed past her and dug through the pile of notebooks and textbooks on Eddie's dresser.
"I could get him to graduate," Steve bargained.
"I think you need to give it up," Robin rolled her eyes. "You know what you need to do."
"No, I can do other selfless things, I can, I can..."
Steve and Robin went back and forth, verbally jousting with excuses and explanations, as he flipped through Eddie's school notebooks. He glanced over half-finished essay drafts and barely legible chemistry equations. As though there would be some great solution to this problem amongst the countless algebra equations and--
"Hang on," Steve held his hand out to silence Robin. He turned and showed her the notebook. "Look at this."
"What is it?" She took the notebook from him and they flipped through the notebook together.
Your name. Over and over. Your initials and Eddie's. Little heart drawings and daggers and--what Steve assumed to be--princesses and knights. And then towards the end...a bunch of pen scribbles obscuring the little fantasies with the oh-so-familiar sigil drawn beneath.
It had been a notebook that Steve had scooped into his arms along with piles of Eddie's laundry and other knick knacks in an attempt to tidy up the trailer a little bit for his own sanity Wayne. To clear away some of the clutter. Especially after he and Eddie had torn the trailer apart looking for the occult book that one night, something that felt like ages ago now.
Steve felt a kind of triumph at this. Justification.
What a fucking hypocrite.
So it wasn't just him that was holding up their inevitable switch back, it was Eddie too. Eddie had a crush on you, and now he had gotten exactly what he wanted by dating you for Steve.
Except...
Except Eddie sort of always seemed to be worried about you. Worried about you finding out the truth, wondered how upset you might be if you did.
"Shit..." Steve sighed.
"Ok so maybe Eddie is as much to blame here as you are," Robin rationalized. "I told him...he needed to tell her the truth, that she would be heartbroken. I didn't realize that he..."
"No...it's..." Steve struggled. "Shit...shit."
Because it all made sense. Steve hadn't thought about the details, really, but he knew how it felt to have feelings for someone who you couldn't have...who didn't like you back. And while he happily planned to try Nancy back...Eddie...and you...
"Shit!"
He had to talk to Eddie.
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"Hey Steve. Uhh..." You twirled the phone cord around your finger as you stammered into the receiver; the speech that you had practiced in your head was completely forgotten as you got the Harrington's answering machine.
"Listen, you left pretty quickly last night and I was just wondering if everything was alright? Or...or maybe I did something to upset you? B-because...we are having a good day, I just...if I did something...I'm sorry. Anyway...uhm...I'll try calling back later...or I'll...yeah...bye."
You slammed the phone as you hung up and covered your face with a groan.
You were up all night--heartbroken and embarrassed.
Steve left...he ran out of your house. One minute...he was...well he was...
You'd had a wonderful date and you had been...so focused, so in the moment as he...gave you the most intense pleasure you'd ever felt...and he just left.
You had been shocked. Barely clothed, legs made of jelly--whole body made of jelly--stunned into silence as he pushed himself away from you and pulled his clothes back on. When you called his name, he looked sick to his stomach.
His eyes clamped shut, shook his head, and then ran.
You'd pushed yourself out of bed, stumbled after him while calling his name, but he was gone. You could practically hear the tires screeching as he tore down the street.
Something happened. You must have done something. It was the only explanation that made sense. Everything had been going great and then it wasn't, and he looked so...disgusted.
So it must have been you. You wracked your brain for some idea...
Did you...did you make a weird noise? Did you...moan too loud or something?
...until a sense of dread overcame you.
Had you said Eddie's name? And not Steve's?
No...no...you couldn't have. Because as much as Eddie kept popping up in your thoughts...you knew that you were with Steve. Your entire head and heart were filled with Steve Harrington.
So why did something still feel wrong when you thought about it now?
Your mom got home late and had trudged off to bed; she barely glanced into your room to make sure you were asleep, and you had half the urge to stop her before she scuttled off. But you knew she would grill you if she saw the tear tracks reflecting the streetlight outside of your room.
You couldn't tell her about this.
And of course, you didn't tell your mom everything but...you really could have used a little bit of comfort. Her occasional words of wisdom that seemed to make everything better.
It was as you lay in your bed that you thought about the other times you'd gone to her, the times you'd cry after a mishap that your child brain couldn't quite comprehend. All the hurt in the world because of a doll that wasn't shared, or some painful words that were thrown around haphazardly.
"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding," she always said. "You can talk in the morning, and it'll all be ok."
Except it wasn't ok. And Steve hadn't picked up. And you felt...sick.
You would have gone over to the Harrington's house or Family Video if you didn't have to get to work...to apologize in person and...
And what? What if he never wants to see you again? What if this just pushes him right back into the arms of Nancy Wheeler?
You knew that the insidious little voice in your head was just...just praying on your insecurities. It was irrational, but a fear was a fear. And you didn't want to lose someone you loved as wonderful as Steve.
You took a calming breath and made a plan...you had work today and class all day tomorrow, which meant if Steve didn't call back by the time you got out of work...you might not even going to see him until Tuesday night at the earliest if he was going to hang out with Eddie and the--
Eddie.
Your stomach lurched with nerves.
He and Eddie were friends, it was a fact that you were trying to move past. And as much as it anguished you to see Eddie...you couldn't lose Steve. So maybe...just maybe if Eddie didn't already know what happened and refused to look at you, he would know how to fix this.
You couldn't wait for Tuesday night.
You needed to fix this today.
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"There you go sweetie," Mary cooed as she placed a mug of chicken soup on the bedside table and then brushed the hair out of "Steve's" face. "And I ran out and got crackers and ginger ale if you're not feeling up to soup."
"Uh-huh. Great. Thanks mom," Eddie muttered and stared numbly at the plaid-papered walls. If he didn't look at her, if he focused on the tense whooshing sound in his ears instead of her voice, he could pretend that it was his mom taking care of him.
Truthfully, he didn't want to be here, pretending to be sick. After he'd made his escape from your house, he realized he had nowhere to go where he could ground himself in...well...in himself. The one place he wanted--his stupid, ramshackle trailer in Forest Hills...home--was still inaccessible to him. So was his other home, you, as he had just...left you. Ran. Like a coward.
While he didn't want to be stuck in the Harrington's house with Mary up his ass for hours, he knew it was the only place he could really let himself become numb without interference from the outside world. So Eddie resigned himself to another day of being Steve Harrington and allowed Steve's mother to coddle him. The cold reception he had been receiving from Mary was immediately replaced with gentle care that made Eddie feel like a kid again, in those carefree days between his father's incarceration and his mother's death.
Knowing how deceitful she was, though...how willing she was to manipulate her son...well, needless to say that Eddie wasn't really buying the sincerity of Mary's behavior. He wished that it was genuine--for Steve's sake, even though he was still pissed at Steve--but in the case that it wasn't, he was not letting up on his demands.
Chicken soup from the deli, snacks from the grocery store, and some time in the house alone so he could smoke a joint in peace and let the high calm his troubles for a little while.
"You know," Mary sat down on the edge of the bed and Eddie groaned, which immediately got her to change her mind and remain standing. "I called the video store to let them know you were having a sick day, and that manager. Kevin? Keith? He was incredibly rude."
"Yeah," Eddie responded as Mary continued, disinterested in making a conversation now that he had started to come down from his high.
"And speaking of rude," she scoffed. "There's this...rude girl who's called twice this morning already while I was out; she left messages. Is this the girl who you've been going out with Stevie?"
Eddie's interest piqued and his spirits lifted just the slightest, then fell again, when he realized it must have been you.
Now, after the panic had subsided, he knew that he had messed up. That he shouldn't have run. Fuck...he couldn't finish what he started but at the very least he could have...stayed and told you the truth. Told you everything. But hindsight was 20-20, or so they said, and in the heat of the moment...running from the reality that he wasn't himself and that you would never love him seemed like the only thing he could do.
Eddie didn't quite know how to feel about the fact that you were calling him now. It wasn't that he didn't want to see you. No, he...he only wanted to fix what he had messed up. But...he just couldn't stand to see you look at Steve with that look in your eyes. Hear you say his name, when all Eddie wanted was for you to want him.
"...sounded so unsure of herself. That's not the kind of girl you want to attach yourself to; you need someone who knows what they want and will go after it. Not to mention that she apologized. Said she hurt your feelings. Is this why you're sick? What did she do? I'll have a talk with her mother and make sure she never calls you aga--"
Mary's heated speech was interrupted by the rapid ringing of the doorbell. She tried to ignore it but it kept ringing.
"My God, if we're not answering it means we're busy," she groused under her breath and turned on her heel. "Will some people never learn patience."
Eddie said a quick thank you to whatever deities he could think of for getting Mary away from him, and he closed his eyes.
Back to the rest, back to his wallowing. Back to the...sound of rocks hitting the window, what the hell?
Eddie's eyes shot open and he rolled over to stare at the window, and sure enough, tiny rocks kept hitting the glass. Over and over.
Eddie pushed himself out of bed and crossed the distance. He briefly wondered if you might be out there, if you had tried calling with no answer. But he had negotiated with Benny to give you a day off yesterday, so he knew there was no way you weren't at work today.
He opened the window and leaned out, only to find the surprise of his life when he "Eddie" himself...or rather...the real Steve was standing in the backyard, staring up at him.
Eddie felt a strange sense of satisfaction seeing the swollen black eye on his own face. Much more than the memory of him giving it to himself conjured. That he gave to Steve?
Fuck this wasn't getting any easier to sort out in his head. And there was no way that it was gonna be fixed any time soon.
"What do you want?" Eddie called down to Steve. "Come to rub it in my face that you have a real date with Nancy tomorrow night and that I was wrong?"
"I came to apologize," Steve called back. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No, I'm serious. I fucked up. I said some nasty things and I regret it. I shouldn't have said them. I was angry."
"A lot of true things are said in anger," Eddie sneered at him. "And that wasn't the first time you said some shit like that."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Steve sighed. "You don't have to forgive me, but...fuck I have to make this right because--"
"Save your breath," Eddie rolled his eyes. "I don't wanna hear it."
He could only imagine what happened that would get Steve to change his tune so quickly.
He tried to make a move on Nancy and she told him to get lost because she had a boyfriend already, regardless of what Harrington Charm Steve thought he possessed.
Or she just laughed in his face because who in the world would ever want to date Eddie Munson.
He winced, knowing it was a little too harsh, but his insecurities would win for another day or two. As eager as he was to get back into his own body, to go home, Steve could stand to deal with the fallout of whatever mess he made. Eddie would just stay in bed until Steve was as tired of this shit as he was. Then maybe they can try to work together and fix this again.
He was about to tell Steve to fuck off, when the patio door opened and Mary's voice echoed across the yard.
"Excuse me, this is trespassing!"
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Steve was frozen, like a deer in the headlights, at the appearance of his mother.
Steve loved his mom, don't get him wrong, but sometimes...
Sometimes he just didn't understand how she could be sweet and loving one moment, and then an absolute misery the next.
It had been a recent discovery, this sharpness to her. In fact, for the longest time, he never considered that she was anything other than a happy and loving PTA mom, well-respected by friends and neighbors.
Growing up, she did everything Steve thought moms were happy to do. Go to PTA meetings, plan summer barbecues, come to all of the games for the sports he played, and cook elaborate dinners for the whole family to enjoy. But as his dad stayed later and later at the dealership, he was less present at family dinners or available for family outings on the weekends, creating Mommy and Stevie time. And as Steve got older, he preferred to hang out with his friends and run around Hawkins then stay at home alone with his mom.
He saw the light start to disappear in her eyes and he just...thought nothing about it. Didn't realize that he was also one to contribute to it.
Tommy H. had made a joke once about his dad having an affair, and Steve just...figured that must be the case for his dad too. He must have been, which is why...why he and mom didn't smile at each other much any more, why birthday gifts had become more elaborate and expensive, why both of his parents traveled together when his dad had conventions and auto shows.
And Steve defended her, always. She was an active member of the community, she went out with friends, and volunteered at the church. She did her best to take care of anything and everything the family needed. Protected them.
Until she didn't.
Until the one afternoon that the strip mall had lost power and Family Video closed early, and Steve came home to find his mom and Mayor Kline together.
All of the care and the sweetness and the motherly love vanished. Steve had suggested she talk to dad, if she was so unhappy...so lonely...but she had spat and swore and cursed his father, claimed that he was the one who ruined things. Ruined her happiness. Ruined their family. But once she saw the hurt expression on Steve's face, she begged him to let it go, to forget about what he saw. Promised that she would do better, she would talk to dad and fix it. For him.
But it happened again, and again. Steve hadn't seen the mayor in their house but he saw the evidence of him. The tie pin left in the bowl that they dropped their car keys in, an extra wine glass next to his mother's on the coffee table. Everything she did felt...forced. Every time he would notice something off, the evidence of all the things she did around the house, for him, for the family, became more noticable. As though she tried to buy his forgiveness rather than actually fix the problems with their family.
He tried to confront her about it again, ask if she had talked to dad. She had yelled and complained and blamed him for wanting to hurt the family. And that was when she offered to give him his allowance back.
Blood Money. Judas. The words echoed in his head, some remnant of some Sunday school lesson that had faded over the years, as he tucked the stack of bills into his wallet.
He didn't know who it was that he betrayed by making this deal...his father, himself, maybe even his mother...but he knew it wasn't right.
So he kept it all inside. Ignored it and let it fester. Kept his mouth shut.
Until now.
Steve looked around the yard, at the big house and the pool, at "Steve" leant out of the window with his good looks and expensive pajamas. He thought about his dad at the dealership, working hard to give this all to them. And finally looked at his mother, who made sure everything looked pristine, only for it all to be festering and rotten just below the surface.
He might have towered over her but couldn't feel any smaller as she glared at him. Glared at "Eddie."
"I, uh," Steve cleared his throat and held his hands out to show that he wasn't doing any harm. "I just came by to talk to Ed--Steve! To talk to Steve."
"So you ding dong ditch and then you trespass into my yard?" Her brow raised in disbelief.
"It's cuz I knew you weren't gonna let me in," he explained.
"If I won't let you in, that means you shouldn't be on my property. Period." his mom sneered at him. "I know you, Eddie Munson; you spray painted my car a few months ago."
Steve glanced up at Eddie, and Eddie simply shrugged as though he hadn't been the one to do it. Which was funny, because in actuality...it had been Steve who maybe had gotten a bit too creative after one too many beers at Heather Holloway's Back to School kegger.
"So what if I did!" Steve shrugged, technically owning up to it.
"That's enough for me to call Chief Hopper right now!" she shrieked, and Steve could see her practically vibrating.
Steve knew that calling the police was sort of his mom's MO. But he wasn't phased.
Probably because he was in Eddie's body and not his own. But maybe it was because he was in Eddie's body that he also felt a bit of courage building.
"You're really going to call the cops on your son's friend?" Steve laughed at her.
"My son wouldn't hang around someone like you."
"Oh yeah? Tell her about Hellfire Club, Stevie! Or how you've been coming to Corroded Coffin shows!" Steve called up to Eddie, whose eyes went wide as he was put on the spot.
"Steven!" his mother turned and glared at Eddie now. "Is this true?"
Eddie stammered and glared at Steve, who didn't give him the chance to respond.
"What? You're surprised that your precious son would want to spend time with a drug dealing, no good, piece of trailer trash?" He practically quoted his mother word for word, having recalled the few times she had encountered Eddie out in Hawkins.
His mom spun around to face him, but he continued.
"Come on, Mare, you don't think that I could be a worse influence on him than you are. With your lying and canoodling with Larry." His voice went falsetto. "Oh Larry, you know how to make a girl feel like she's 20 again. Barf."
"How do you know about that?"
"You're bribing and manipulating your son, you're ruining your family, and on top of that, you're a huge bitch."
Steve felt the weight on his shoulders get lighter with each word that escaped his mouth. He also saw his mother's anger start manifesting physically. She was turning red, shaking, breathing heavily. He knew that he needed to make his escape before she really did call the cops. Or hit him with a shovel or something.
"Wayne's sick," Steve called up to Eddie and Eddie's eyes went wide.
"Who's Wayne? Is that another one of your little drug dealer friends? Get out of my yard. Get off my property!"
As Steve ran from his parents' backyard and away from his screaming mother, his mind raced. He knew he shouldn't lie to Eddie but...desperate times called for desperate measures. He needed to get Eddie alone so they could talk, reconcile what happened. So he could convince him that this...that this was exactly what they needed.
He knew that he needed to rally the troops if he was going to fix what he broke.
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It took hours for Eddie to get out of the house.
As soon as Wayne's name had left Steve's mouth, he felt like he was doused in ice water. Every nerve was on fire, his body itched to leave and it was unfair that he had to be subjected to Mary's tirade as soon as Steve had run and Mary returned to the house.
All he wanted was to get into the car and race to Forest Hills to see his uncle, but instead, he had to listen to her speech about dangerous criminals and vandals and making better life choices. She even tried to lecture him about taking classes at the community college to get away from the deadbeats who hung around Family Video.
Jesus Christ, lady, way to kick a man while he's down.
Once she was done with her lecture, she marched him straight back to bed so he could get the rest he needed.
Eddie knew he'd have to make a miraculous escape and he waited and waited for Mary to settle in the living room or get on the phone or something. His mind raced in the meantime as he thought of all the ways that Wayne might be sick.
Was he sick sick? He'd been sick a grand total of once in Eddie's life, in 79, when a nasty flu bug swept through the whole town. He remembered wishing that he knew how to make soup other than from the can, but when he'd brought Wayne the bowl of microwaved Campbell's, the look of pride on his uncle's face was enough to relieve him of his guilt.
Maybe he'd gotten hurt at the plant? He always made fun of his uncle's age, calling him old timer and geezer and whatnot, but he was getting older and he needed better glasses than the readers he got off the little revolving rack in Melvalds. Maybe he cut himself...or needed stitches. Or threw his back out?
Eddie thought back to his initial idea of getting him a job at the Harrington's dealership, something he never acted on and suddenly felt dread that whatever fate had befallen Wayne had only happened because he hadn't acted fast enough.
Hours passed by and he waited. Mary had brought him a grilled cheese with the crusts cut off, she'd done several loads of laundry, and even ushered him into the bathroom to take a shower. But before he knew it, she had ducked her head into his room.
"Stevie, are you feeling ok?" she asked gently. "I need to run out for a little while. Run a few errands."
Eddie glanced out the window, at the way the sky darkened, and then back at Mary who was dressed a little too nicely for errands.
Nice to know she's going to knock boots with Mayor Douchebag while her son is sick.
"Ok mom," Eddie forced a smile. "Be...safe."
"There's more soup in the fridge, if you want any more while I'm gone."
"Sure."
She turned and left without so much as an I love you, and as soon as Eddie heard her car peel out of the driveway, he was on his feet. He threw on a pair of jeans and one of the t-shirts he had gotten with you the day before, and then ran down the stairs.
"Fuck, she took my keys?" he groaned as he noticed the little bowl on the table in the hallway was conspicuously empty. "Well, bad news that her son is actually a criminal drug dealer deadbeat vandal who knows how to Hotwire a car."
Eddie found tools in the dusty toolbox in the garage, and then strolled out to Steve's BMW. It was a shame that he would cause damage to the vehicle--it had been a nice change from his van, even though he missed the van immensely--but desperate times. He struggled for a moment, the imported car a little trickier than the clunkier Chevys and Fords his dad had taught him on, but he got it in the end.
For the first time in his life, he was a little thankful to his father for giving him some kind of skill, as unsavory as it might have been. Because if he didn't have it, there would be no way for him to see Wayne right now.
Maybe being Eddie Munson wasn't such a bad thing after all.
He pulled into the trailer park and the car skidded to a stop beside the van. Even Wayne's car wasn't here, which meant that Steve probably had to pick Wayne up from the plant.
Or the hospital.
He jogged up the steps and threw open the door...
"What the fuck?" Eddie exclaimed.
...only to find Steve, Robin, Lucas, Dustin, and Will sitting around the living room with notebooks and homework and DnD mini figs. The TV was on, the volume down low, with a stack of videos piled in front of it, and there were cans of soda on every available surface.
"Took you long enough," Dustin announced and rolled his eyes. The other kids started chiming in.
"We started working on homework when you didn't show up right away."
"And Mike's birthday campaign."
"It's been hours!" Robin exclaimed. "Keith is gonna have my ass too, I called off, and you called off too. Which means he's working open to close. And you know how he hates that. Er...um...well one of you knows." Robin glanced back and forth between Eddie and Steve.
Eddie looked around again. The trailer was cleaned, he could hear a load of laundry clunking around in the washing machine, there was a stack of frozen pizzas laid out on the counter in the kitchen, one in the oven making the trailer smell enticing.
But no Wayne.
They tricked him.
"Alright, what the fuck is going on here?" Eddie asked, then zeroed in on Steve. "You lied to me. You used my uncle as bait and you lied to me."
"I'm sorry, I had to," Steve got to his feet and sighed. "You weren't listening to me...and then my mom..."
"You lied to me to get me to come over for some kind of pizza party? I didn't know you were that desperate for friends, Harrington," Eddie asked incredulously.
"No!" Robin interjected. "He lied because the two of you need to settle this once and for all. You haven't been entirely truthful about this whole situation either, Eddie."
"What do you mean? I've told you everything."
"Not everything." Steve pulled a spiral notebook off the coffee table and threw it at him. Eddie's stomach dropped as he realized what he caught. "Open it."
"I don't have to do shit," Eddie feigned anger and threw the notebook over his shoulder.
"No, because you already know what's in it," Steve jeered. "You have a crush on my girlfriend and you've been using this to your advantage this whole time. Don't look at the kids, they already know. I told them." Eddie had glanced at Dustin, Lucas, and Will, half expecting to see betrayal or deception in their eyes, but they looked sympathetic.
"Listen," Steve went on. "I know how it feels to have a crush on someone and think that you don't stand a chance with them. We all do." He gestured at the others, and they all nodded.
Eddie felt uncomfortable under their heavy stares, and it sent his skin crawling.
He knew that he wasn't alone in having a crush on someone; unrequited love had a definition for a reason. He didn't understand why they wanted him here? Why were they confronting him like this? Did they blame him for the spell? He already knew it was his fault.
"So what? Why am I here, Harrington?" Eddie finally asked.
"To work it out once and for all!" Will explained. "There's only two options here."
"There was more to the riddle," Lucas elaborated. "More than just the translation."
"You both want to be with someone that...otherwise wouldn't want to be with you," Robin continued. "The real you."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better about myself, Buckley?" Eddie sneered at her.
"Leave Robin alone," Steve sighed. "She's the one who figured this all out. The prize...reflected in another's eyes...when I saw that notebook I thought that it was...something tangible. Popularity, or...or...friends...or a girl. But the real thing is love."
"Yeah, Selfless Love," Eddie shrugged. "Selfless love will change you back. What about it?"
"But in order to love selflessly, you have to love yourself first. And even if you find it hard to believe, both you and Steve...struggled with that. You thought...you couldn't be loved by the person you wanted the most. You didn't have the kind of life the other had. The love you thought the other had," Robin offered.
"So...there's really only two ways about this." She continued. "We all work together to help you two to learn to love yourselves. It's gonna take some time, because you clearly still hate yourself Eddie, and Steve...yeah he's not gonna admit to it because he's shallow--sorry Steve--but...he struggles to love himself because everyone else leaves him. Shut up Steve, you know I'm right.
"Or... you suck it up and deal with it. Steve stays Eddie, and he shoots his shot with Nancy. And you stay Steve, and you get to keep your honey. And honestly, this needs to be the outcome if we can't get you to change back with the self love thing.
"But it means that the two of you need to work together," Robin concluded. "Because it isn't gonna be easy."
"I'm willing to try if you are." Steve held out his hand to shake. "I mean...it's a win win no matter how you slice it."
Eddie stared at Steve's offered hand and then at all the others' open faces.
He was...touched that they were all here and willing to help. He truly was. And he knew that it was a gesture of good faith from Steve, trying to work together. They'd almost become friends the past few weeks, trying to solve this situation...what he had told Mary earlier had been true. Hell...Eddie was almost proud of Steve for standing up to her the way he did.
But to accept that offer meant that there was nothing to lose. And Eddie had already lost himself.
"Fuck you," he swatted Steve's hand away with his own. "I'm not shaking to that."
There was a collective commotion of "what's" and "why's" from everyone and Steve looked lost.
"What's your deal?" Steve asked.
"What's my deal? What's your deal?" Eddie laughed. "You think I'm gonna believe that you want to help me love myself, when just the other night you listed off every reason under the sun that I'm not worthy of love or friends, and that I would live and die alone. Yeah, real great act there, Harrington."
Steve crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Eddie.
"So you don't want to be me and you don't want to be you, then who do you want to be?"
"I didn't say I didn't want to be me, I just said you're fooling yourself if you think I'm gonna let you help me want to be me. Besides, don't you think it's still a little too convenient that it's only a win-win for you?"
"How is it not also a win for you?" Steve questioned. "You either get your life back or you get the girl of your dreams. Same for me."
"What if I want both."
"Then I say you're the one being selfish here."
"Come on guys," Dustin sighed. "Fighting isn't going to solve anything. You need to come to an agreement and--"
"No, th-th-there's...there's nothing to agree on!" Eddie stammered. "Except the only thing there is to agree on. You can't always get what you want, right? Isn't that the way the song goes? Rolling Stones? We're trying to make a deal to find a way to make the best of either situation, but neither of us is gonna be fully happy in any scenario. I learn to love myself and what? The girl I love doesn't love me either, so what's the point? You get the girl you want, but you need to live with the fact that she doesn't love you.
"But could you live with yourself day in and day out if she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were? If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve? Could you live with Nancy Wheeler screaming out my name as you make love to her?"
Robin and the kids all started groaning and making gagging noises at the last sentence, but Eddie knew he hit a nerve in Steve as he had the decency to look a little sad.
"Don't you see I love her, but she doesn't love me. And she never will. So if I had to choose, no...I don't want to be Steve Harrington anymore, I want to be Eddie Munson again, because even if she never loved me, I wouldn't have to be face to face with the fact that she loved someone else, every day, for the rest of my life."
Eddie finished his shouting and his shoulders heaved with his labored breath, and as he realized what he just said, he turned on his heel to get to the door.
He didn't want to run away from this, but he felt like he had no choice but to run. This had been a mistake. He should have left as soon as he realized that Wayne wasn't sick. Back to the Harrington's where he could suffer in silence until he was ready to face the reality of being stuck in Steve's body.
"Eddie, wait!" Steve shouted and jumped across the living room to stop him, as Eddie's hand turned the knob. "You can't just lea--"
Eddie was about to turn and start yelling at Steve--he couldn't tell him what he could and couldn't do--but as the door to the trailer swung open, both he and Steve realized that someone was there.
You were standing on the other side and they didn't know how much you had heard.
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It really was the longest Sunday at work that you had ever faced. Each minute was an eternity, and each break that you had went by too fast. You sat by the kitchen door to call home, and Benny would watch you with a critical eye as you asked your mother if there were any messages for you--there weren't.
Your mom knew there was something wrong by the tone of your voice...but she knew your breaks were precious and not to take them up with her questions.
"I'll be home a little late tonight," you warned her.
"You ok?" she asked.
"Yeah...just...going over by Steve's for a little, I think."
"Ok Honey. Have fun. Tell him I said hi."
But you wouldn't...at least...you thought you wouldn't as you drove your car towards Forest Hills Trailer park after work so you could talk to Eddie.
Imagine your surprise as you pulled up to the trailer with the obvious green and white van out front...only to also find Steve's burgundy BMW parked next to it.
Fear gripped you, and you debated...well, you debated just leaving. Cut your losses and run, because they had to be in there...obviously talking about you.
But looking further past the two vehicles you saw a handful of bicycles leant against the side of the trailer.
So maybe it would be safe...if they were having a Hellfire meeting or something.
You parked your car and slapped your face, gave yourself the pep talk of the century.
He's in there and Eddie's also in there and their friends. And you're gonna walk up there and act completely normal, say that you came by to see Eddie but...oh, Steve what a surprise, you were trying to call him but he must have been here all day.
Yeah that was it. Perfect. You just had to get out of the car and say it.
The air was thick with the sludge of your nervousness, and its viscosity grabbed and pulled at you with each step toward the door you took.
You could hear the voices even before you got to the door, the variations in the timber of Steve and Eddie's voices vibrated through the wooden walls and vinyl siding. And it wasn't until you pulled open the storm door to knock that you really heard what they said.
"The girl I love doesn't love me either, so what's the point? You get the girl you want, but you need to live with the fact that she doesn't love you." The sound of Steve's voice made your heart plummet.
Nancy. They had to be talking about Nancy. He still loved her.
No wonder he was so quick to run when you said his name. He pretended you were Nancy all the way up until then.
"But could you live with yourself day in and day out," Steve continued. "If she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were? If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve?"
Wait...Steve? But...but that was Steve who was talking. What...what was happening.
You kept listening and as Steve kept talking, as you heard other voices chime in to try and stop him, and as he got louder and closer, you got more and more confused,
"So if I had to choose, no...I don't want to be Steve Harrington anymore, I want to be Eddie Munson again." Again. "Because even if she never loved me, I wouldn't have to be face to face with the fact that she loved someone else, every day, for the rest of my life."
"Eddie, wait!" And that was Eddie's voice.
Eddie called Steve...Eddie, just like he did that day way back when...the day he showed up at Family Video. The day that you had that date with Steve, when he changed your mind about breaking up with him.
And Steve was claiming...that he didn't want to be Steve anymore...that he wanted to be Eddie again. But if he wanted to be Eddie again...that meant he had to be Eddie at some point in the past...right?
Time slowed down and you got dizzy as you tried to make heads or tails of it all.
The dates and the kisses and the cologne and the chewing gum.
All of the times that you wished you knew what it was like to be with Eddie, when you were held so tenderly in Steve's arms.
The music and the declarations and the...the Nancy of it all.
You had thought vaguely last night that it almost seemed like they had traded places...but that was impossible.
"You're not...what I expected Steve Harrington to be like," you muttered. "You're so much better."
"Of course I'm better, it's because I'm..." He faltered for a moment.
It's because Steve was Ed--
The door to the trailer swung open and you stood in wide-eyed shock as you came face to face with Steve and Eddie.
Or...Eddie and Steve.
"Honey," they muttered simultaneously and you couldn't help the step you took back, the way your foot faltered on the steps of the small porch. You tumbled down the few steps and caught yourself on your hands, only for them and your knees to get ripped up by the gravel of the drive.
"Shit!"
"Is she ok?"
Two sets of footsteps came thundering down the porch steps and hands grasped at your arms to get you back to your feet.
"Honey, look at me, are you ok?" Steve--Eddie--cupped your face in his hands and turned you to him. He looked down at your hands and winced at the scratches. "Shit, we need to clean you up."
Meanwhile Eddie--Steve--talked over him.
"What did you hear? How much? You can't say anything, you can't tell anybody. They wouldn't believe you. They'd think you're nuts."
"Good job Harrington, can't you see she's hurt."
"She heard everything, Munson. God. We need to be proactive about this."
"Guys!" A voice came from the trailer door and you looked over to see Robin and a bunch of Steve's...Eddie's...someone's freshman friends standing behind her. Both of the boys continued bickering back and forth until Robin yelled again. "Shut the fuck up!"
Everything went silent except for the ringing in your ears.
You did the only thing you could do...
Your thoughts went a mile a minute as you revisited the epiphany you just had. And you couldn't believe how much sense it made. That it was Steve who touched you and kissed you and loved you. But underneath it all was Eddie.
...you turned on your heel and ran.
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Eddie's heart clenched as you pushed his hands away from you, and you ran.
Well...ran was a generous term. You hobbled and skipped, the deep scratches and cuts on your skinned knees prevented you from gaining the speed you probably wanted. And it was all he could do not to go after you.
You heard. How much of it? Everything? How long had you been out there? You had to know now. You'd never look at him again.
It hurt, cut him so deep that it practically stopped his heart in his chest.
He knew that this was inevitable, had come to this conclusion that he would lose you...shit before he even had you. Everything in between then and now would just be a beautiful memory that he could take with him for the rest of his days.
"Well aren't you gonna go after her?" Robin called from her place at the door.
Eddie looked over at Steve, who looked right back at him.
"She means you," they said in tandem.
"Me?" Steve exclaimed. "Why me?"
"That's your girlfriend," Eddie said, as though it was the most obvious thing on earth.
"No," Steve laughed. "That's your girlfriend. And on top of that, you love her, so you need to fix this."
Eddie was speechless as Steve went and sat on one of the steps. He fished a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his vest and lit one up. Eddie rolled his eyes and looked back up at Robin and the kids.
"Go!" They all yelled at him. Eddie scrambled and started in the direction you ran, shaking his head softly as he heard them all turn on Steve with an "are you an idiot?"
He knew the way you ran. This was his home turf, even if he hadn't been here for a few weeks. He would always know this worn, dirt footpath that led to the gazebo out beyond the last trailer in the park. There used to be a jungle gym and swings out there...he had sat on those swings for hours after he heard news of his mom's death.
It was a good place to cry.
And Eddie half-expected you to be there crying, especially as he saw you, perched up on the bench with your face in your hands.
"Honey?" Your shoulders went rigid as he spoke, and he stopped in his tracks. "Hey it's me. Are you...ok? Can we talk?"
"Me who?" you asked softly, the fragility in your tone enough to make him pause. "Please...I need an answer, who am I talking to? Steve? Or Eddie?"
"Eddie," he said, clearly and confidently, knowing that this was it.
Your shoulders started shaking and he could hear vague whimpers coming from you. He couldn't hold himself back, he shuffled over to you, stood directly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders as you cried.
"I'm sorry," he began. The words flooded his mind: apologies, excuses, declarations of his emotions. He could barely contain one leak before another sprung. "I'm sorry I lied to you, I'm sorry I kept it a secret. It's just that it was so...unbelievable, so impossible, that I knew there was no way I could tell you without you thinking I was crazy.
"And before I knew it, it was too late, and we were dating. I was dating you for Steve but I was also...I was dating you for me because I've...I've had this stupid crush on you for years. Can you believe it? Years! And I never...I never thought I was good enough for you. But I was so...so angry because Steve wasn't good enough for you either. He's an idiot. Imagine my surprise, my luck the day I woke up and I was Steve...and I got to take you out on some date and finally...finally get to show you how much I cared. How I felt...
"But it wasn't right to have lied to you. To...to touch you and kiss you when you didn't know it was me. We all kept it a secret. Me, Steve, the kids, Robin. We all could have come clean at any time, but we figured we could fix it before then and now...now we might be stuck this way forever so please, please, I need...
"I don't need anything actually. There's nothing I can do to make this right. I can't ask anything of you, except to listen to me and believe that I never meant to hurt you throughout any of this. There were no tricks, no...well I guess there were lies. But I never pretended to care for you. Everything I said and did...it was real. And I don't blame you if you hate me, or if you never want to see me again, I just need to know...I need to know that you're alright.
"So please Honey," he ran his thumbs soothingly back and forth over your shoulders. "Please look at me and tell me...tell me you're at least ok and if you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave you alone forever. Just please. I need to know you're ok."
Your shoulders kept shaking and although Eddie's heart practically disintegrated in his chest, he felt...lighter. Something had shifted. Everything was out there, the truth. He didn't have to hide from you anymore, pretend that he was something he wasn't. All that was left was for you to tell him to fuck off...
When you peeled your hands away from your face and looked at him, though, you had tears of laughter in your eyes and a manic smile on your face.
"You..." you hiccuped through a giggle. "You're...you're Eddie Munson and you love me?"
"What?" he asked in disbelief, not entirely sure that he heard you right.
"You...you're Eddie Munson," you poked a finger into his chest. "In Steve Harrington's body."
"Yes."
"And you, Eddie Munson, love me?" you questioned. Eddie froze and you continued. "Don't act like I didn't hear....everything you said. You said...you said...you loved me but I would never love you back. But..."
You grabbed onto the front of his shirt and shook him, wincing as the rough fabric scraped against your torn up palms.
"I told Eddie...I told Steve...that I had a crush on you, Eddie Munson," you shook him and looked up into his eyes with a smile. You had...a crush on him and you told...Steve? "And he just said--"
"When?" Eddie interrupted you.
"In High school."
"No, when did you tell Steve?"
"Uh...last week? I don't...the...the night you came in with Corroded Coffin," you closed your eyes and shook your head. "And Steve...you...I'm sorry, it's really confusing."
"I know, imagine how I feel," Eddie chuckled.
"I told 'Eddie' that I had a crush on him in high school," you explained. "I told him and he acted like it wasn't anything to blink at. Like he didn't even remember I existed. And I felt so crazy, so hurt, that I went home and I tore up my diary because I never even thought you...that he...that..."
You rambled about thinking about him and smelling his cologne, noticing his chewing gum, and thinking about him when you kissed Steve--when you kissed him--and Eddie felt all the pain that he had, all the insecurity he had for the past 24 hours, melt away.
All the light in the universe--the burning of an infinity of stars--couldn't compare to the way his heart was shining right at that moment.
You didn't want Steve. You wanted Eddie.
"...and you ran away and I thought...but you..."
Eddie didn't let you finish your thoughts, he smashed his lips to yours and kissed you with bruising intensity.
The way he felt outdid any high he'd ever had.
He kissed you until you both needed air, then dropped little pecks around your face until you directed him back to your lips.
"You love me," you muttered against his lips.
"I love you," he nodded.
And then you said the one thing that he had wished to hear come from your lips for weeks, months, years.
"I love you too."
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As soon as Eddie was out of sight, Robin and the kids were on top of Steve, yelling at him and swatting at him.
"Are you kidding me?" Robin shrieked.
"What?" Steve howled.
"You need to go after them too," Dustin tried to reason with him. "She's hurt and she's crying. This entire thing is a disaster."
"She's not my girlfriend! OW!" Robin had slugged him hard in the shoulder. First a black eye now a bruised shoulder. Great. "Ok, why do I need to go?"
"Because whether or not she's your girlfriend, you and Eddie both dragged her into this mess. So you both need to explain it to her," Will explained.
Steve sighed.
"Fine," he grumbled and threw the cigarette to the ground.
As he followed after you and Eddie, he sighed and wondered how this was all gonna play out. Why you hadn't just gotten into your car and driven away if you knew the truth. If you thought they were insane.
You could have made a fortune, told the newspaper.
If you told the newspaper though...that meant Nancy would find out eventually.
Nancy...
Steve reflected on everything that Eddie had said. He knew, now, that it was all in the context of you. That Eddie loved you...
So then why didn't he say anything? Steve...would have understood...or tried to at the very least. Right? And what Eddie had said made some sense to Steve.
"Could you live with yourself day in and day out if she looked at you with love in her eyes and didn't see you for who you truly were?"
But who was he? He was just...Steve. He could talk about his parents and his time at Hawkins High...all the sports he played and friends he made. Nancy hadn't wanted Steve anymore, hadn't wanted that life.
But was that even his life anymore? He had less now than he had before. His parents were broken, their family in shambles. His friends had left him and laughed at him. Hell, even the admissions essay Nancy had helped him write once upon a time hadn't gotten him into a college; he just...worked at family video.
What could he offer her as Steve? Shit, did he even have anything to offer himself?
"If she believed you were someone else. Could you live with that Steve?"
What did Eddie have though? He had a band and friends and carefree fun.
But Steve learned over the last few weeks that it wasn't as carefree as he thought.
Shit, even Eddie living his life wasn't as carefree as one would assume. What could Eddie give to Nancy? What could Steve as Eddie give to Nancy? Yeah he enjoyed nights out with Corroded Coffin but...he didn't even play his own guitar. Eddie did. And he was enjoying Hellfire Club but...well, the kids and Eddie really helped him with the DM role. Maybe he would like it better if he was one of the players instead of the leader of the whole show.
What the hell was Steve? But no one? Would anyone even care if he was gone?
But he loved Robin, she was his best friend. And he loved the kids as though they were his own siblings. They all had done so much for Eddie...and for him the last few weeks. They put themselves at risk of being accused of...witchcraft and hysteria...they subjected themselves to his and Eddie's anger when they were at each other's throats.
They had plenty of opportunity to leave them both behind--to leave Steve behind--but they didn't.
"Could you live with Nancy Wheeler screaming out my name as you make love to her?"
Make Love. Love. That was really all Steve had to give Nancy anymore. And all he really wanted in return. Could he be happy knowing that she loved someone else and not him? Not Steve Harrington?
Fuck, she was doing that now with Jonathan Byers.
Steve saw you and Eddie huddled together at the gazebo, and as he got closer he heard what Eddie said to you. He felt those desperate words floating in the air.
"...But I never pretended to care for you. Everything I said and did...it was real. And I don't blame you if you hate me, or if you never want to see me again, I just need to know...I need to know that you're alright. So please Honey. Please look at me and tell me...tell me you're at least ok and if you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave you alone forever. Just please. I need to know."
Steve...froze in his tracks, and it was like a lightbulb switched on.
For as much as Eddie had just declared his love for you back at the trailer. He was willing to let it all go, let you go, as long as you were alright.
Eddie had done all of this, had caused this entire fiasco...because...because he thought that nobody loved him--because you didn't love him--just like Steve struggled to find people in his life who loved him. And Eddie was willing to walk away without love, so long as you were ok.
Steve thought about Nancy and Jonathan. About how happy they were...how they were alright, and making plans for the future together. More than Steve had ever really done with Nancy. He had his plans and she hers. He had his father's expectation to live up to and she had...ambition.
As much as it hurt...Steve knew...weedled and pushed deep down inside of his being that Nancy would never have been happy with him as she was with Jonathan. And sure...it hurt to see them together but...her smile. Her happiness. It still warmed his heart.
Because he loved her. He always would.
Steve watched as the two of you rambled and laughed and verbally tousled back and forth and he felt...lighter somehow. More awake and aware than he had been for weeks.
He didn't feel so stuck.
Selfless love.
Huh...so that's what it was.
Steve would have gotten closer, would have helped explain the situation to Eddie, but he knew Eddie had it under control.
Because despite their troubles and differences, despite all the shit that they had been through...something new was forming between Eddie and Steve. Friendship was a kind of love, and Steve wouldn't go and stick his foot in it to save his own face.
Steve turned on his heel and walked back to the trailer. Maybe not with...a new head on his shoulders, but definitely a new perspective.
Selfless love.
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Steve woke up feeling...like he was sleeping on a cloud...although there was a heavy weight on his chest and his arm felt numb.
Was this Heaven? Was he dead? Had the stress of the past few weeks finally killed him?
He had returned to the trailer, to Robin and the kids, the night before, and shortly after, you and Eddie had trailed in after them looking...happier than you had been when you'd run off. Steve had been glad, if a little confused.
He'd put two and two together when he caught a glimpse of a soft kiss Eddie had pecked on your lips when you left...and he felt...embarassed for a second. To think that Eddie would have kept you warm for him for as long as you were in each other's bodies.
Man, maybe I am a douchebag.
The group of you had gone over plans to help Steve and Eddie achieve some self love, to help them get back in their bodies.
But now...well, if Steve was dead there was really no way that he was going to be able to enact those plans were there?
He briefly wondered, as he opened his eyes to a brilliant bright light, if Eddie would be able to get back into his body if he had died. Or if he would be stuck as Steve Harrington forever.
Steve blinked the cobwebs out of his eyes and frowned at the sight before him.
Plaid-papered walls and matching curtains that were thrown open and letting in all the early morning sunlight. A too soft bed that he had missed and you tucked into his side with the weight of you numbing his shoulder and his arm.
Huh? This didn't make any sense.
You groaned beside him and nuzzled your face into his shoulder. You muttered a quiet "guh morning Eddie" and scrunched up your face as you opened one bleary eye.
"Eddie?" he asked. And then it hit him. "Eddie!"
Steve jumped and pushed you off of him. He got to his feet and started running his hands over his body. Fluffy hair, toned chest, stubbly arms--ok so Eddie hadn't been shaving like he promised.
"What's wrong?" you asked, confused. "Is everything ok?"
"It's...it's me, I'm back!" Steve exclaimed. "I'm back!"
"Back?"
"It's me, it's Steve," he cheered and knelt on the bed. He grabbed your hand and pressed it into his hair, as though touching it would convince you somehow.
"What do you mean? I..." Recognition sparked in your eyes and you pushed him away from you. "If you're...does that mean he..." You scrambled to your feet, shoved your shoes on, and ran out of his bedroom.
Steve could hear a commotion outside the room between you and his mom, then the front door of the house squeaked open and slammed shut. Before long, his mom poked her head inside his room and tutted disapprovingly.
"Did that girl stay here all night Steven?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not the girl from the answering machine is it? I can't believe you--"
"Mom!" Steve stopped her and crossed the space between them. He looked down at her, truly for the first time in his life, and spoke clearly for the first time too. "You're so full of shit."
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Eddie stirred awake and felt at peace.
Truly everything was working out in his favor.
He had a plan to get back in his own body, he had you, he had...something sharp digging into his shoulder, what the fuck?
He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, his fingers dug into his eyes and as he pulled them back...strands of hair came away with them. Long, tangled strands...unfamiliar...but familiar all the same.
But Steve didn't have...
Eddie really looked at his hands then, at the ring-clad fingers and the tattooed skin. His familiar bats and his puppet master that he had gotten last summer. He turned his head and saw the glowing red lights of his shitty K-mart alarm clock.
6:45
The screech of tires and a spray of gravel outside really made him aware of the world around him. The room was still somewhat dark... but bright sunlight shone in from the makeshift curtain. He stared at band posters and the Corroded Coffin banner he made back in 9th grade, and slowly the recognition set in.
He was home.
He was home, he was home, he was home. He pushed the hair out of his face and looked at his arms, his body, his bed. He pulled the half-worn copy of Lord of the Rings out from under his pillow where it was sort of jutting into his shoulder and he kissed it.
"I'm Eddie Munson," he spoke out loud in his voice. He tried to lower the register, achieve his DM voice. "Eddie Munson."
There was a knock on a frantic door somewhere.
Wayne. No wait, it was still too early to be Wayne. He wouldn't be home until 8 when Eddie was already at school.
More recognition hit him.
"Fuck I have to go to scho--"
"Eddie I swear to god, if you don't open this door right now," your voice was faint, shouted from somewhere outside.
You. Your voice. He had fallen asleep beside you in Steve's bed...and now he was in his bed, in his body, and you were outside his door.
He kicked the blankets off of him, wincing as he saw that he was only in his boxers--thank fuck he was getting sick of tighty whiteys--and ran out to the door.
He stared at the living room, at the remnants of everyone being here the night before. Tidier than he would have left it, but Steve had promised to clean up. He vaguely wondered what else Steve had cleaned during his stay at Casa Munson.
"Eddie!"
"Shit," Eddie cursed and threw the door open, fully intent on being suave with his greeting, since he was back in his body. This would be his first chance to charm you as himself, after all. But as soon as you had your eyes on him, you threw your arms around his neck and planted a kiss right on his lips.
It was an entirely different sensation, kissing you as himself and not as Steve. You tasted...pretty much the same...maybe a little different. Tangier. Maybe a little...earthy but it wasn't even 7am yet and he doubted you brushed your teeth at Steve's.
Shit he hadn't brushed his teeth yet either.
But his nerves were immediately alight in a way that they never really got when he was Steve. And his blood rushed to mutually desired places much faster than it had in Steve's body too.
That was going to be weird, going through life comparing things to Steve again...in a different way. But...
"You're too busy thinking," you pulled away and smiled. "And not busy kissing me."
"Sorry Sweetheart," he chuckled. "Mystical body swapping does a whole lot on the mind. I got distracted."
"I'll forgive you," you pecked down his cheek to his neck and bit playfully. "Just this once."
"Your teeth feel sharper like this," Eddie noted aloud.
"It's because I'm biting you harder," you grinned against his skin. "Because I know you like me now so I'm not afraid to mess up."
"Not distracted thinking of someone else now either," he offered and felt you tense in his arms. The confidence in him faltered. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean--"
"No it's..." you pulled back from him and looked into his eyes. There was a glee there, one he hadn't expected to see. "I don't know. I guess it's all been wild and unexpected and 24 hours ago...I thought I was gonna lose...you forever...and now I have you."
"You have me," Eddie promised. "For as long as you want me."
"Never gonna stop."
"No?" he asked in a tease. "Not even if I...swapped bodies with old Ted Wheeler or something."
"Uh..." you wrinkled your nose and glared at him. "Eddie I don't know if you're intentionally killing the mood here but...I mean if you're trying to ask me if I would fuck Mr. Wheeler even if he was actually you, the answer is a hard no."
"But you'd fuck me?" he asked smugly.
"I'm sincerely trying to," you laughed. "I don't think you were this chatty as Steve."
"I am pretty talkative. Don't worry, I have other uses for my mouth, but first things first, I need your clothes off Honey."
He ushered you back to his room and his fingers pinched and plucked at your work uniform as you went. You still had it on from your shift the day before, and it was now wrinkled from sleep, and Eddie vaguely wondered how comfortable it was, but you eagerly pulled it off you as you set foot into his room and he slammed the door shut behind him.
"Not sure how clean the sheets are," he stepped close to you and cupped your face in his hands.
"It's ok."
"But I'm gonna take care of you Honey."
"As long as you don't run away again."
"I won't. I promise." He took your hand in his and pressed it against the bulge in his boxers, groaning at the spark of tension and pleasure. This was what he had been missing, the pleasure he felt in his own body, so familar and long-since-felt. "Feel how hard I am for you? Feel how much I love you?"
"You love me?" You asked.
"Are you always gonna ask if I love you?"
"I just gotta check. Make sure you didn't change your mind...or that...I don't know...that Steve didn't jump back into your body or something."
"Oh," he pushed you down onto his mattress and slid between your legs. He ground himself against you, the friction of your underwear making you both hiss in want. "I'll make you forget all about Steve Harrington by the time I'm done with you. You'll only remember my name."
He didn't play games, didn't waste time luxuriating in the details of you, when all he wanted was to take you to paradise again and again, and follow you, as quickly as possible.
Also because even if he did skip class with you today, his uncle would be home soon and he did not want this to be the way the two of you met.
He kissed down the length of your body and rid you of your underwear. He inhaled the heady scent of you, put his tongue on you the way he had on Saturday, and noted again that the taste of you was different. Better.
He could feel you holding back and he looked up at you smugly, resting his chin on the crest of your sex.
"What did I tell you? I want to hear you," he teased, and inched his fingers along the inside of your thighs. "You're beautiful you know...your pussy's so pretty. I didn't get to tell you that the other day. All of you, you're so...gorgeous and I can't believe you're all mine."
"Yeah?"
"You're all mine right?" He asked, kissing back down as his fingers spread your lips and he teased your clit with his middle finger. You whined. "Louder honey, you're all mine right."
"Yes." He sunk his fingers into you and he laved at you, lapping up whatever you gave him. The complex, sweet taste exploded on his tongue, and he pressed in further, further, crooked his fingers till you were panting. "Eddie."
He smirked and backed away slightly, looked up at you with hooded eyes. "Say it again. Give me what I want and I'll give you what you want."
"E-Eddie," you keened.
"Again," he sped up and started shifting against the bed, as he chased his own pleasure. "One more. I'll get you there sweetheart. I'll get you there you just have to ask."
"Eddie please!" He stroked with skilled fingers and used his thumb to rub your clit firmly. He watched as you came. Awed in the beauty of you as you twitched and leaked, luxuriated in the flutter of your cunt around his fingers, and basked in the crescendo of your moans.
All while he rutted quickly and wildly against the bed. He wasn't gonna last--he'd barely touched himself in Steve's body, and he knew Steve wasn't doing any routine upkeep in his--and before long his release spilled as he grunted and groaned. He couldn't help himself, he bit into the plush of your thigh, enough to earn another high pitched whine from you.
You both panted and came down from your highs. He'd kissed back up your body to your mouth, letting you take the affection that you needed with your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers threaded through his hair. He felt a tingle in his spine as your nails scratched against his scalp, and he knew it was a promise of more to come later, but he knew he needed to clean you up now.
He whispered sweet apologies as he left your side to get a washcloth from the bathroom, and then he cleaned you up first--paying close attention to the scrapes on your hands and knees, then the mix of his spit and your release between your legs. Then he took care of himself, slightly embarrassed as he rid himself of his stained boxers and revealed his rapidly softening cock to your curious gaze.
"Shit," he laughed and looked down himself and then back up into your eyes, so filled with affection. "You know something?"
"What?" you grinned at him, clearly feeding off his joy.
"Steve definitely has a weirder dick than me." You covered your face in your hands and cackled.
"I hate you!" you shouted, voice muffled.
"Noooo," he quickly flopped on the bed and pulled you to him. He peeled your hands back from your face and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You love me.
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June 1986
This was it.
Eddie had never been so nervous in his life. Not the first time he performed with Corroded Coffin, or the first time he was the DM for Hellfire, not even the first time he kissed you.
This was the minute that his future would finally begin.
"Edward Munson," Principal Higgins' voice echoed across the football field. Eddie climbed the makeshift stage accompanied by a mix of cheers and applause (and boos from the douchebag jocks who had made his life miserable for the past 6 years).
He shook Higgins' hand and took his diploma, smiling nicely for the photographer that had set up right at the edge of the stage, and when he got a mischievous look on his face, Higgins sighed.
"I wouldn't do that if I was you Eddie," he warned.
"Come on, it's not like you can fail me now!" Eddie snarked and tucked the diploma under his arm, before flashing double birds at the older man. The sounds of the crowd grew louder--parents outraged, students amused--and as Eddie turned to extend the gesture to the crowd, he saw his little audience get to their feet and cheer harder.
Wayne who shook his head, forever amused at his boy's antics. Rick who, quite frankly, looked high as a kite. Gareth and Dave and Jeff's parents, who were there for him and Jeff. Steve and Dustin and Lucas--who had cheered for Robin, Jonathan, now for Eddie, and soon enough for Nancy. Will and Mike were with their families, but Eddie could still see them clapping enthusiastically.
And front and center, next to Wayne with the brightest smile and the loudest cheers, was you.
It was still weird, even after months of getting to be with you as Eddie instead of as Steve. Not bad weird. Better weird.
This was a moment he never imagined he would get to experience. Graduating high school, getting to know you and love you the way you did.
It still felt surreal, but as he ran off the stage amidst hooting and hollering of his classmates and the audience, he knew it was where he was meant to be.
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Hours later, Eddie was surrounded by friends, family, and classmates in the Wheeler's backyard, celebrating the momentous occasion of high school graduation.
Wayne chatted with Ted Wheeler and Thomas Harrington, who had in fact offered Wayne a job at the dealership. Their kids newfound and unexpected friendship was a chance to actually talk with one another and Tom quickly realized that his new acquaintance was actually a skilled mechanic. While it took a little convincing on Eddie's part for Wayne to actually take the job, Wayne was actually grateful that it paid a little more and offered better hours than the plant.
Eddie's eyes narrowed as he watched Tom rub his ring finger nervously, the missing wedding ring obvious and awkward, especially amongst a big crowd like this. But no one dared say anything about the divorce or the fact that Mary had been seen around town with Mayor Kline. They didn't even ask Steve how his mother was doing. Everyone welcomed the Harringtons, glad they could make it to the celebration.
Guests milled about, the kids all chased each other around with water balloons, and too many overcooked hamburgers and hot dogs were consumed.
Eddie had his arm around you as you chatted with Nancy and Jonathan about plans for the future. You and Nancy had become fast friends, especially after Eddie returned back to his body and actually took advantage of Nancy's tutoring sessions.
There had been a moment, early on after the swap back into their own bodies, that Nancy had commented on the fact that you were dating Eddie...when she thought you had just been seeing Steve for weeks.
"I'm just worried about him," she confided in Eddie. "We didn't break up on the best terms. He'll always be my friend."
"I think he'll be ok," Eddie assured her. "The two of them are just friends. He doesn't have that many of those in Hawkins. You know, she convinced him to sign up for classes at the Tri County College in the fall?"
"No way," Nancy exclaimed. "I thought he was just gonna be stuck at Family Video for the rest of his life."
Eddie chuckled in recollection, remembering Nancy's disgusted face.
No, Steve wouldn't be stuck in Family Video forever, because Eddie had recently take a job there as an assistant manager to kill the extra time he had now that school was over and supplement that money from the additional gigs Corroded Coffin had earned over the summer.
It wasn't a record deal or a tour...just some local carnivals and fests...but it was a start.
And of course, there was you. With your unending affection and support and bright, shining personality. The you he got to know between high school and his...foray into Steve Harrington-ness only bloomed further under the gentle attentions of him and his love.
You told him things that you had never told him as Steve. You confided in him about your worries for the future, about your struggle balancing school and work, about your ideas and insecurities. And he did the same with you. It was a mutually fulfilling relationship, and one that was full of trust.
And the sex was one of the highpoint of his entire life so far. Not even his Warlock ranked quite as high on the list.
"Hey Eddie!" Dustin called to him and Eddie turned only to get hit in the face and doused with water from a rogue water balloon. He ran a hand over his eyes and did a dog-like shake to get the water from his hair. He glared at Dustin and Steve, who had thrown the precision shot and laughed heartily at his expense.
Douchebag.
Eddie sighed and looked around the party, at friends and family, at the kids, and you, and finally at Steve, who nodded in amicable understanding.
If he never saw Steve Harrington again...what would Eddie do? They'd experienced one of the...weirdest of things they'd ever experience in their lives. And it was something that inexplicably tied them together.
They were friends now.
Who'd have thought.
But, Stranger Things could've happened.
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Thank you for reading. <3
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batmanego · 1 year
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SO YOU'RE TIRED OF BATMAN: AN INTRODUCTORY GUIDE TO DC SUPERHEROES
one of the most common things i hear when trying to get people to read comics is that they're just not that into batman. which boggles my mind! not because i'm a huge batman fan -- which i am, but i can understand why people might not be interested in his comics -- but because it's insane to me that batman (or superman, or wonder woman, or any other dc superhero they've made a movie about) is people's default perception of dc superheroes.
there's a whole world out there! and if you're intimidated by the big superheroes, or uninterested in their stories, or even if you like them but you're looking for something different, this is the guide for you. without further ado, i present:
DC MINUS THE BIG THREE: A FIELD GUIDE FOR THE DISENCHANTED AND DISINTERESTED
DOOM PATROL (1987)
to nobody's surprise, doom patrol is first on my list of recommendations. it's a comic book about a group of disabled people who have been labeled freaks, weirdos, or otherwise undesirable by society, coming together to save a world that doesn't care about them because there has to be beauty in it somewhere.
good for: well, i'll let the introduction quote do the talking. “remember when all the other kids on the block had superman and batman as positive role modes? well, if you could only identify with a human brain in a metal body or a guy wrapped up in bandages, and if you grew up weird, welcome home. you’re among friends now.”
read doom patrol here. trigger warnings for: ableism, child sexual abuse, medical abuse, transphobia.
2. HELLBLAZER (1988) BUT ONLY THE FIRST 41 ISSUES OK?
hellblazer is a 300 issue long comic book, mostly comprised of dogshit stories by dogshit writers. i am recommending it because i genuinely think the first 41 issues are art. please do not do as i did and read all of hellblazer. you won't survive the experience. ok? ok.
hellblazer is a comic about aging punk magician/occultist john constantine trying desperately to sort out his life in late 80s london while constantly being beset by poor life choices, poverty, and also lots and lots and lots and lots of demons.
good for: punks, anarchists, fans of the occult, enemies of aleister crowley, anyone who has a personal vendetta against margaret thatcher.
read hellblazer here, BUT STOP READING AFTER THE FIRST 41 ISSUES OK? trigger warnings for: literally almost everything you can imagine, but specifically discussions of child sexual abuse are prominent in the original sins run. also, it was written by a white man in the 80s, so it suffers from "white man in the 80s" syndrome.
3. WILDCATS (1999)
"FERRIS", some of you comic book knowers cry, "WILDCATS IS WILDSTORM NOT DC". to that i say Shut the fuck up DC acquired the rights to the wildstorm universe it's close e-fucking-nough.
wildcats 1999 is about cole cash (a conman and ex-special ops man), hadrian 7 (an alien robot posing as a human named jack marlowe), and noir (a bisexual ex-arms dealer from france who talks in the third person) picking up the pieces of the OLD wildcats team after they all found out they were soldiers in a war that ended before most of them were born and nobody bothered to tell them, and trying to 1) run a company and 2) save the world.
good for: people who hate the military, tacky sci-fi fans, anyone who wishes guys would suck more, anyone interested in the horrors of war.
read wildcats 1999 here.
4. SLEEPER
"ferris i want to leave wildstorm" too fucking bad. we're talking about sleeper right now.
sleeper is about holden carver, an undercover agent in the world's largest underground crime organization/network, who gets stuck undercover when his handler (the only guy who knows he's undercover and not just a traitor) gets shot and put in a coma. it is about grappling with your own morality, losing faith in your ideals, and (like most wildstorm properties), how war is a pointless exercise in horror.
good for: fans of spy thrillers, evil women enjoyers, evil men enjoyers, anyone who has ever thought they could make someone worse, people who want bad things to happen to people in power.
read sleeper season 1 here, and then sleeper season 2 here. trigger warnings for pedophilia (the pedophile gets beat to death in issue 2), homophobia, and child abuse.
5. THE AUTHORITY (1999)
stop crying we're almost done with wildstorm. the authority is a comic book about 6 super-people (who are very loose parodies of the justice league) forming a self-described "anarchist cell" to operate against the wishes and outside the influence of earth's governments to defend the planet against extraterrestrial threats and handle human rights violations.
good for: political science fans, good sci-fi enjoyers, people who think batman and superman should have kissed instead of making a million movies, people in polyamorous six-ples.
read the authority here. trigger warning for "this writer probably shouldn't have written this asian nation like this", homophobia, sexual abuse.
6. SUICIDE SQUAD (1987)
hey, remember how i was talking about wildcats? imagine the same sort of themes of wildcats (the horrors of war, the effects of being in the military, american imperialism, what it means to be a hero or even a good person), and then apply them to the worst group of people you've ever had the displeasure of being in the same room as, and they all fucking hate each other. suicide squad is about a bunch of incarcerated villains being "recruited" (forced) into working hero-missions for the government, because nobody will miss them if they die.
good for: villain apologists, people who (in the immortal words of hack/slash) think "there just aren't enough big mean women in comics", and this guy:
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[ID: a comment on read comics online by “the king of anime” reading, “I want to give this a try would it be worth it”. end ID.]
read suicide squad here. trigger warning for, again "white man in the 80s syndrome", along with... probably pretty much everything else imaginable (it's been a while since i read this!)
7. STARMAN (1994)
starman is a story told with the drama of a theater production about jack knight, a late-20s to early-30s punk antiques dealer who gets the mantle of starman (a well-known superhero from the golden age) thrust upon him suddenly. it is a story about legacy, family duties, identity, and most importantly about being kind of a loser who gets shot at all the fucking time.
good for: sci-fi fans who are too proud to admit they also like fantasy, rock opera listeners, family disappointments, single fathers.
read starman here. trigger warning for sexual assault.
8. ARKHAM CITY: THE ORDER OF THE WORLD (2021)
"ferris you said no batman" i did. i did not say no batman villains.
arkham city: the order of the world focuses on some of batman's lesser-known foes, and the fallout of arkham asylum collapsing. i can't really explain it more than that, but it is good and legitimately unnerving at times.
good for: horror fans, enemies of the psychiatric system, villain enjoyers, people who live in new york city.
read arkham city: the order of the world here.
9. THE SHADE (1997) and THE SHADE (2012)
hey, remember starman? want a series about the old immortal victorian man with an "ambiguous sexuality" from it? okay. the shade (1997) follows his origins: specifically, his long-standing beef with one specific family. the shade (2012) is a sort of cross-country whodunnit as the shade tries to track down who is trying (and failing) to murder him.
good for: bisexual enjoyers, dramatic theater kids, vampire fans, goths, people who would have fucked lord byron given the opportunity.
read the shade (1997) here, and the shade (2012) here.
10. METAL MEN (2007)
lastly (but not least), a comic featuring will magnus from doom patrol. metal men (2007) is... a complicated story. it's about robots? it's about being mentally ill. it's about a guy who is so divorced forever. it's about being a little loser guy. it's about time travel, and terrible relationships with your brother. it's hard to describe. but it's fun.
good for: bad sci-fi enjoyers, people who can understand the timeline of looper, robot fans, anyone who has ever been consumed by a desire to create.
read metal men (2007) here.
BONUS:
not included in this list because batman is there, i encourage everyone to have a look at the original justice league international series. it is a superhero comedy. it is silly and stupid and i love it.
OKAY, THAT'S ALL! THANKS FOR READING!
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zaptrap · 4 months
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Seeing that you've been here since 2012 is INSANE like you've witnessed it all huh. You've seen probably SO many weird and crazy things in this fandom like man that's so cool for you I feel...
ive def seen and participated in a lot of dumbass bullshit over the years LMAO. although notsomuch during the skybound-to-seabound era cuz i'd lost interest for a bit
Random shit I remember off the top of my head (plz feel free to fact-check):
deviantart era: (2012-2013)
that bright green ninjago ask meme
like, literally everybody making self-insert purple ninjas (sometimes orange, teal, or rainbow) and shipping them with their fav ninja
everyone making their own genderbends of the ninja. cole was almost always called nicole or colette lmao
people also naming their accounts (name)-the-ninja (or "teh-ninja", since this was 2012)
there's a non-zero probability that if you were in the fandom during the season 1 era, you're a furry now
naruto crossovers
half-snake ninja aus.........wonder who uh......who could've done that.....heheh (me) (that was my whole deal pre-nindroid!jay lmfao)
everyone posting like, doll-maker things they made of ninjago? especially dragon ones
(me) posting leaked screenshots of season 2 eps that i found on the lego wiki or smth lmao. this is also how i found out zane was a robot. i think i kept posting leaks when i moved to tumblr
legends of chima releasing and i thiiink it was supposed to be a ninjago replacement? like, legitimately? though a lot of people weren't happy about it. "furry gang drug wars" was a phrase used a lot lmfao.
tumblr era (2013-2016 for me) (may overlap with dA era)
everyone losing their minds over the shirtless ninja in ns2 lmfao
that one video of kirby marrow (rest in peace) saying cole was 14
that other vid of like, behind the scenes and it was the ninja's actors but like in-universe? it's where "cole bucket" comes from
also some behind the scenes vid with the actual voice actors lol
thinking back on this, im like 100% sure it was bullshit but when the end of rebooted aired, there was a rumor going around about fans being so upset over zane's death that they carved a snowflake on their stomachs. lots of people were freaking out lmfao
the rise and fall of "fucknoshittyninjagoOCs" (ashamed to say i heavily participated in harassing this blog even if i rlly didnt like the premise.........)
maypong
lots of tension with instagram cuz of all the art reposts. like. tons of reposts. i remember someone blocked me when i said to take something down but then unblocked me the same evening and apologized LOL so
roleplay twitter accounts (twitter was kinda not-as-a lot at the time)
nindroid!jay of course. its so old there was an update that was made in flash lmfao...
absolute fucking shitloads of AUs and headcanons. i dont think this has changed much but like. there were so many lmfao. entire threads
actually there's too many fucking AUs. im scrolling through my main blog and i cant fuckin find anything cuz ITS ALL THESE STUPID AU THREADS THEY AREN'T EVEN LIKE DEEP LMAO
ask-all-the-ninjagians
the absurd screenshot redraws i did. like they were super stupid lmfao. icr which blog they're on but they're on my comp still at least
ninjagians just. being a term used at all lmao
the ninjago fan-tournament during ns4. people would draw/write about their ocs doing whatever prompt was posted and then everyone came together to defeat a big bad snake man
tbh i started naturally losing interest during ns5, and then VERY QUICKLY dropped the show (and therefore fandom) when skybound came out lmao............... so i dont really remember a lot from this era and everything after
and now im back :D
i hope this is insightful! xD
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tbmunson · 10 months
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Escape - Gareth Emerson x Reader pt.3
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Summary: Your spot on the cheer team is threatened by the fast spreading news of your new relationship. Some people aren't as accepting as others.
Warnings: 18+ smut, oral, mentions of parent passing away, fluff.
Word Count: 5,527
Notes: I thank you guys again for your patience. Between normal life and unexpected events, it's a little harder to find time to sit down and write. Thank you all for continuing to support this story.
Taglist: First and foremost, my number one support, @ashes-writing. Thank you so much for everything. @depressedacidtest @nana90azevedo @alanamarie @lizzziekatt @m3ndacious @nighttwingg
You and Gareth had finished a decent portion of the paintings, not quite half, but more than a quarter, when the doorbell rang.
“Who’s that?” Gareth asked, looking up at you from the canvas.
You shrugged and sat your brush down. “No idea. Could be the guys if they tried to find us at your place.” You answered, stepping towards the door.
Gareth followed quickly, hugging you from behind as you stopped at the door, which made you laugh.
You pulled the door open as you looked up at him only to be met with a high pitched and disgusted “Ugh!”
You rolled your eyes and leaned back against Gareth. “What, Tiffany?” Your tone was flat, unwelcoming.
“Natalie called me to tell me about that little scene in the slum garage and I needed to talk to you about it, but in your house? Really?” Her face was scrunched, making her look more like a witch than she usually did.
“My boyfriend isn’t allowed to hug me?” You fake pouted, resting your hand on his arm. You raised your eyebrows and tilted your head, waiting for her response.
“Boyfriend! Boyfriend? Are you kidding me?” She was screaming, hands clenched into fists that were shaking by her side.
You nodded in dramatically. “Yeah, boyfriend.”
“Absolutely not! Cheerleaders don’t date freaks!” She shrieked, making you roll your eyes
“Then I’ll turn in my uniform Monday morning, unless you’d like me to go grab it right now.” You offered, pointing to the stairs.
“I- uh- wait.” She held up her pointer finger and thought for a moment. You were the best at stunts on the team, and one of the three that could do serious acro that were left. The team couldn’t afford to lose you. “No. You can stay on the team. Just don’t sit with the freak brigade on game days.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Obviously you can’t afford to kick me off the team or you would have, so I think I’ll sit where I’d like, when I’d like, wearing what I’d like.”
Tiffany’s chest rose and fell with deep, harsh breaths as she glared holes through your head. “You’re fucking lucky you’re talented because if you were anyone else you would be gone.”
“You’re fucking lucky I actually like cheering because if I didn’t you’d be shit out of luck. Now. If you don’t mind, get off of my porch and don’t come back.” You were ready to pounce and show her exactly how you felt about her after all these years, but you knew better.
Gareth’s hands fell to your hips where they had rested most of the day and he soothed you, rubbing his thumbs over your skin to calm you. “That was so fucking hot.” He mumbled into your ear as Tiffany stomped away towards her car.
The guys turned on the street and saw Tiffany’s car in your driveway before seeing her yank the door open with the most sour look.
“Wonder what happened?” Grant asked before seeing what was happening at the front door.
You had turned yourself around and pulled Gareth down for a kiss, tongue licking over his bottom lip while he backed you up against the doorframe.
“No fucking way!” Jeff yelled before making a quick turn into your driveway.
The guys piled out, clad in all black, which pissed Tiffany off even more. “Fucking freaks!” She yelled out of the window as she started her car and slammed it into reverse.
Jeff flipped her off as they ran up to the door. “It’s about time!” He called out, breaking the kiss.
“When I’m right, I’m right.” Eddie smirked, making you roll your eyes.
“Fuck off, Eddie.” You laughed, letting an arm drop from around Gareth. “You don’t get credit for this.”
“Yeah, Greely does, actually.” Grant said, holding up a bag for you. “We all got you something, by the way.”
Gareth raised his eyebrow as you took the bag.
“You guys didn’t need to get me anything.” You said, opening the bag.
“Shut up and take it out, Princess.” Eddie urged, watching you closely.
You pulled the heap of black fabric from the bag and unfolded it. “Oh, my god!”
“Dude! That’s sick!” Gareth added, looking at the white lettering.
“You’re our biggest fan. And you’re really cool. It’s the least we could do.” Jeff smiled as you took in the new Corroded Coffin t-shirt.
“You guys are the best!” You squealed, taking a turn to hug each of the boys. “Thank you, again, for not writing me off with people like Tiffany and the bitch brigade. You guys are the best.”
The boys couldn’t help but smile. “It was Grant’s idea. The shirt.” Jeff stated, nodding his head to the bassist.
“Yeah, but we all went in on it so I can’t take all the credit.” The boy blushed lightly as being called out by his friend.
“Well it was a very sweet idea. Thank you, again. Why don’t you guys come on in? It’s warm out here.” You waved the boys inside and made sure to close the door behind them.
“This is a nice place.” Eddie said as he looked around at the pristine white walls and light wooden floors.
“It’s okay. It doesn’t feel very homey to me. My parents aren’t into the whole displaying memories thing.” You replied, leading them into the sitting room. “I’ll go clean up the studio real quick. I’ll be right back.” You headed towards the stairs and Gareth followed, grabbing your hand as he walked up with you.
“They adore you, you know.” He smiled, squeezing your hand as you topped the stairs.
You grinned and looked back down at the three guys who made themselves at home on the couches that hadn’t been sat on in who knows how long. It felt more like home than it ever had. “I adore them too, but not as much as I adore you.” You replied, standing on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.
He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He watched you move with nothing but happiness on his face and that was enough for you.
Once the two of you cleaned up the mess and stopped the stereo you grabbed the tray you’d brought up earlier and returned downstairs. “I made sandwiches earlier, which you guys are welcome to.” You announced before setting it down on the coffee table.
The boys reached for the food and Eddie asked “So what exactly was that bitch here about?” In reference to Tiffany.
You explained the situation, including the fact that they needed you and didn’t have a say in a single thing you did anymore.
“I will never understand how people like her work. What makes her think she can control someone’s personal life?” Jeff asked, laying back against the couch with a couple of the grapes from the tray.
“Everyone rolls over to her because they’re scared of her. I’m done with that shit, you know? I’m tired of being what everyone else wants me to be. If that makes me a freak, then I’m proud of that.” You sighed, relaxing into Gareth’s side.
“Welcome to the Freak Brigade, Princess.” Eddie smirked as he snatched the last sandwich. He filed the name away, deciding that would be a good name for the Corroded Coffin fan base.
“It’s a pleasure to have you.” Grant added, peeling the cover off of the sleeve of Oreos.
Gareth kissed your cheek and smiled down at you. “You could have joined us at any time.”
“Gross.” Eddie mumbled, hiding his laugh behind the sandwich.
You rolled your eyes and rested your head against the back of the chair. “Jealousy is ugly, Eddie.”
The boys all laughed and fell into conversation about the campaign that was set to kick off the following Thursday, the last one for most of the club.
You mindlessly played with Gareth’s hair as you listened to them talk animatedly, more enthusiastic than any of the other people you’d hung around talked about anything.
“Do you know how to play, Princess?” Eddie asked, drawing you out of your own head.
You shook your head and chuckled. “Dustin gave me a rundown yesterday at lunch, but I don’t think I could compete with you guys.”
Gareth squeezed your thigh, noticing how your body reacted to him for the first time. “I’ll teach you, help you out if you wanna join in on the campaign.” He smiled, digging his fingers in a little deeper as he watched you.
“Yeah, that would be great.” You were biting back any noises that wanted to bubble up your throat and swallowing them back down.
“Great, Dustin and Will can help you with a character sheet. Those two are little geniuses when it comes to… just about anything actually.” Eddie laughed, noticing but ignoring the tension between you and Gareth.
“Great. I’ll draw their, uh, their characters as payment.” You replied in an attempt to clear your brain as Gareth’s hand gently slipped up and down your skin, driving you crazy in the best way.
“Great.” Eddie replied, laughing a little.
“Oh, Gareth, I was supposed to show the girls some acro. We should probably head down in a few, hm?” You knew if you were to sit here for another five minutes you’d just jump his bones in front of everyone.
“Right, right. Why don’t you go get changed and me and the boys will wait for you here?” He offered, not wanting to seem like he was dying to get into your room.
You nodded and kissed his cheek before getting up to run up the stairs.
“Gareth, you just teased the fuck out of her.” Eddie stated, moving to stand.
“Yeah, I thought she was going to take you right here.” Jeff added, grabbing the now empty tray to take into the kitchen for you.
Gareth chuckled and looked towards the stairs. “Can you blame me? I’ve only wanted her for the last fourteen years of my life.”
“I overheard Tiffany the other day saying how she hasn’t, you know. So don’t push too hard. Might scare her off.” Grant said in a whisper, making sure you wouldn’t be able to hear him.
Gareth nodded, wondering if you’d been waiting for him. He waited for you for so long, until last year he just couldn’t take it anymore and he convinced himself you’d never give him the light of day. He ended up messing around and hooking up with the senior girl in Hellfire that year, which he kind of regretted and was kind of happy about. He knew what he was doing and he’d be able to please you, but on the other hand, he would have loved for you to be his first.
You came back down in a pair of practice shorts and a tighter t-shirt with your hair in a ponytail. “Ready?” You asked, slipping your sneakers on at the foot of the stairs.
“Yeah.” Gareth smiled, reaching out for your hand, which you gladly let him take.
The sight was a little funny, four guys dressed in all black walking you down the street wearing a pale pink top and white bottoms. It definitely caught the attention of some of your neighbors who gave you a strange look.
Gareth restrained himself from touching all over you as you walked. The outfit left very little to his imagination and he was definitely imagining the rest. At least until he heard his sisters all your names and start running towards you.
“Are you gonna show us tricks now?” Clara asked, reaching up and taking your hand as Lori tried her best to climb into Eddie’s arms to tell him about her competition.
You nodded and bent down to pick her up. “I sure am, lil bit. How about I show you a back handspring?”
“Mrs. Amy is supposed to teach my class that soon!” Lori said, turning in Eddie’s arms.
“I can show you how and you can impress Mrs. Any next time you go to class.” You winked, earning a squeal from the girl.
“Alright, so I’ll show you first and then I’ll break it down for you and help you. I don’t want you to try it by yourself just yet because we don’t have a mat and I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” You emphasized as you handed Clara off to her favorite bandmade, Grant.
The girls nodded and watched you closely, cheering you on with the boys.
“How many can you do in a row?” Lori asked as you walked back over.
“I can do five.”
“I wanna do five!” Clara yelled excitedly, making you and the boys laugh.
“Let’s start with getting one down, then we can work on multiples.” You replied with a smile. “You guys ready to try that?”
“Yeah!” The girls wiggled themselves out of the arms holding them and followed you.
You looked up at the boys and nodded to the garage. “You guys can go hang out. I think us girls have it under control out here, right?” You really just didn’t want them to get bored, standing around watching a couple of letting girls jump around.
“Yeah! Us girls got it out here.” Lori said sassily, making everyone laugh again.
“Alright, Princesses. We’ll get out of your way.” Eddie bowed dramatically before walking towards the garage.
Gareth stepped over to you and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Let me know if they get to be too much, Doll.” He squeezed your hip and watched the blush that spread across your face.
“They’ll be fine. We’re not going to do too much.” You rested your hand on his arm and gave him one more kiss before letting him follow the boys.
“I thought you said you weren’t his girlfriend.” Lori pouted, feeling like she may have been lied to.
You dropped down to your knees in the grass. “He wasn’t last night. He just asked me today. You know what that means, don’t you?” You asked, brushing some hair out of her face.
“What?” She asked, still pouting.
“That means that I get to come over and play with you guys all the time.
Clara gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with her hands. “Promise?”
“Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky for each girl to take the turn.
“Yay!”
After about half an hour the sun began to set and you had both girls doing back handsprings, with you spotting them of course. You were getting ready to call it quits when Gareth’s mom walked outside.
“Would you girls like some lemonade after that practice?” She asked from her spot on the porch.
“Mommy! Y/N is the best girlfriend Gareth ever had!” Lori yelled, making your face flush, which wasn’t that noticeable considering you were already red faced from the work and heat.
“Girlfriend?” She asked curiously, like she hadn’t seen her son kiss you earlier from her spot at the kitchen window.
“Yes ma’am. As of today.” You replied, walking with the girls up to the porch.
“Please, call me Gwen.” She smiled, handing you a cold glass full of lemonade. “He’s had a thing for you for a while, you know.”
“I’ve had one for him too. Probably since we were Lori’s age.” You admitted, taking a seat in one of the rocking chairs, which appeared to be an open invitation for the girls to crawl into your lap.
“Trust me honey, I used to catch the two of you looking at each other from down the street. I think you two were the only ones who didn’t know.” She chuckled before scolding the girls for climbing all over you.
“Oh, no, they’re fine. I had to tell Gareth that a hundred times in the last two days.” You laughed as Clara yawned, evidence that she hadn’t taken a nap today.
“They talked about you all day today, telling me how you were the funnest person ever and how nice you were to them.” Gwen said, then added, “Thank you for teaching them a new skill and spending time with them. That last girl Gareth had hanging around wasn’t… gifted when it came to kids. That was one of the reasons they broke things off. He never left her alone with them.”
You couldn’t stop the bitter chuckle that came out of you. “She wasn’t my biggest fan either. I think she wrote me off with the rest of them.” You hugged the girls a little closer as sleep began to take hold of them.
“I didn’t like her.” Lori mumbled with her eyes closed, making both you and Gwen laugh.
“I don’t think Gareth did either, much.” Gwen sighed, standing to grab Clara. “It’s bedtime my sweet angel. I’ll come back and get Lori.”
“I’ll take her up. I did it last night.” You said, standing with the girl on your hip.
“Gareth made you take her up?” Gwen questioned, eyebrow ticking up like she was ready to tell her son off.
“Gareth won't make me do anything I don’t want to do, I promise.” You assured her as you followed her in.
Gwen laughed and nodded. “Good. You tell me if he starts and I promise you it won’t last long.” She nodded with a look that was sweet but also serious. That’s when you knew that you loved her.
“I promise you I will.” You smiled, following her up the stairs. “Goodnight lil bit.” You cooed to Clara before walking through the open door across the hall. “And goodnight to you too, baby doll.”
“Goodnight my other angel.” Gwen said softly from the door.
“Night mama, night Doll.” Lori mumbled, making you laugh a little as you pulled the blanket up.
“Doll?” Gwen asked as you closed the door behind yourself.
“I guess she heard Gareth call me that earlier.” You chuckled, following the woman down the stairs.
Gwen smiled and her eyes watered a little. “That’s what Gareth’s father called me before he passed away.”
Your stomach turned, realizing the weight the simple name carried. “Oh.” You weren’t sure what to say.
“He doesn't call anyone that, so you’re special.” She took your hand in hers and gave it a gentile squeeze.
You smiled and squeezed hers back. “He’s special to me too. Now that I have him I’m scared to lose him.” You weren’t sure why you were admitting that to his mother, but it felt right. Safe. More than you could say for your own mother.
“You’re welcome here anytime, Honey. I know your parents are gone a lot so if you need to be around people, don’t be shy.” She patted your hand, a silent assurance that you won’t lose her son.
“Thank you.”
Gareth opened the door and looked at the scene, smiling a bit. “Trying to embarrass me, mom?” He asked with a chuckle.
“Not at all. Don’t accuse your mother of things.” You answered, walking over and hugging him. “Lori spilled the beans about us, by the way.” You smiled up at him as his arms fell around you.
“Well, at least that part is over with.” He kissed your forehead as glanced at his mom who nodded back at him. “Lets go to the garage with the guys, hm?”
You nodded and turned back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gwen.” You smiled at the woman before walking out of the door with Gareth.
“What did you guys talk about?” He asked, keeping you as close to his body as possible.
“Nothing.” You replied with a sly smile. You leaned up and kissed him as he opened his mouth to argue. “Don’t worry about it. I promise it was nothing you need to be concerned with, okay?” 
“If I pretend I’m still worried about it will you kiss me some more?” He smirked, stopping you next to the garage.
“If you want a kiss, just ask for it.” You ran your hands up over his chest, one coming to rest on his shoulder and the other resting on the side of his neck.
“That’s all it takes?” He asked, holding your hips and squeezing them.
You nodded as his face came closer to yours.
“Can I kiss you, Doll?”
You nodded again and pulled him into you.
His lips moved with yours and his hands dipped lower to rest on your ass before squeezing, eliciting a moan which he swallowed before pulling back. “Is that too much?” He asked, remembering what Grant mentioned earlier.
You shook your head and pulled him back down. “We could do more.” You whispered against his lips.
Gareth tensed a bit but kept going. “Have you done more?” He asked after a moment.
“No. I didn’t want to give it up to any of those meatheads. Greg begged for it, but I wouldn’t touch him with a fifty foot pole.” You replied, twisting some of his hair in your fingers. “But I want you to have it.”
Gareth groaned and grabbed your ass again. “Shit, baby. Of course I want it. I just don’t wanna rush you.”
“I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t sure.” You kissed the corner of his mouth and then his lips. “My house is still empty.” You whispered, lips ghosting over his.
He groaned again and pulled you off of the side of the garage. “Hey boys, uh, we’ll be back later.”
“Should I ask?” Eddie quirked a brow, looking between the two of you.
“Nope.” You answered as Gareth gently pulled you towards your house.
“Oh, they’re about to fuck.” Eddie stated as he plopped the joint between his lips to light.
“Should we leave them some?” Jeff asked, grabbing one of the other joints.
Grant shrugged and watched Gareth grab your ass as you walked. “I don’t think they’ll be back.
You unlocked the door and pulled Gareth up the stairs with you. You stopped to open the door to your bedroom but Gareth turned you around and pushed you up against said door.
“If you want to stop, tell me. I promise I won’t be mad.” He ran his hands up and down your sides, bunching your shirt up a bit so he could touch your skin.
“I promise I’ll tell you.” You replied, craning your head to capture his lips in a kiss.
He smiled and kissed you slower than before but it was so much more powerful. His tongue pushed gently into your mouth as his hand reached for your door knob. Once he had it open he nudged you gently into the room and pulled away from the kiss to look around.
“What?” You asked, following his eyes.
“It’s different from what I thought it would be.” He replied, scanning over the darker art you had displayed.
“Spend a lot of time imagining what my bedroom looked like?” You joked, smiling at him.
He nodded and pulled your body into his. “I was expecting pink and frilly and cheer trophies. Maybe some pom poms hanging around.” He chuckled, taking one last look.
“Yeah? Bet you were hoping for pretty pink panties hanging off the top of the laundry basket too, huh perv?” You laughed as you sat down on the edge of the bed.
He glanced over to the basket and back to you. “Maybe. But I’ll settle for the black ones.” He smirked, bending to lift the lacy fabric up.
“I wore those last night.” You shrugged, biting your lip gently.
Gareth dropped them back down and walked over to you, pushing you back gently to hover over you. “What kind did you wear today?” He gripped your hip, with one hand while the other held him up.
“Why don’t you find out?” You asked, reaching up to his shoulder and pulling him down for a kiss.
He groaned into the kiss, his hand slipping from your hip to your core, making you moan. “Someone sounds needy.” He chuckled as he started kissing down your neck. His hand slipped back up your body, peeling your shirt up.
You sat up a bit to aid him in removing the garment, unhooking your bra while you were at it before falling back to the bed.
“You’re beautiful.” Gareth whispered before leaning back down to pepper your chest in kisses. His hand that wasn’t holding him up ghosted up your stomach before grasping one of your boobs, giving it a light squeeze.
You moaned out, bringing your hands to push through his hair.
“You liked that, huh?” He asked, looking up at you with a smile.
You nodded, breathing heavily.
He smirked at you again before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and nipping lightly on it. He could get off on just watching you squirm beneath him. Once he moved on from your nipple he slipped off of the bed to settle between your legs. “You soaked all the way through to your shorts baby.” He rubbed your thighs as he spoke.
“There was nothing to soak through.” You said, looking down at him.
“Hm?” His brows furrowed.
You chuckled and pushed yourself up on your arms. “Take them off.” You nodded to the shorts.
He reached up and gently pulled them down, only to be met with your bare, glistening pussy. “Fuck, been without panties all day?” He asked, warm breath fanning over you.
“Yeah, just hoping you’d notice.” Your words were breathy, almost silent.
“Been this wet all day too?” He asked before kissing the inside of your knee.
“Started when I watched you practice. I’ve been trying to be good.” You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, savoring the flavor of Gareth that lingered there.
Gareth kissed further up your left thigh, pulling back just before he reached your core. “Trying to be my good girl?” He asked before kissing the inside of your right knee and starting up.
“Yes, Gareth, fuck. Please.” You begged, watching him come closer and closer to where you were dripping.
He groaned as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft skin. “You sound so pretty when you beg.” He had no other choice but to give you what you were asking for.
His tongue glided up your delicate folds, he moaned at the taste of you.
You let out a strangled whine, causing him to pull back.
“Don’t try to hold back to pretty noises, baby. Let me hear it, yeah?” He dipped back in, licking over your clit and reveling in the moans you released. It was animalistic in the best way, driving him to continue.
He unraveled one of his arms from around your leg and teased your entrance before gently pushing it in.
Your moans came out louder as the pleasure registered, only to be amplified by him adding another and curling them, reaching farther than your own fingers ever could.
“C’mon, baby, I know you're close. You’re squeezing my fucking fingers.” He mumbled into you, sending vibrations through you.
“Close, ‘M close.” Your breathing was rapid, moans spewing from your throat as the coil in your core snapped, Gareth’s name falling from your lips at full volume.
“Good girl, good girl.” He mumbled as you slowly came down from the high as he gently rubbed your thigh.
You looked down at him and reached out, trying to grab him. “Please.” You pouted, opening and closing your hand.
He smiled softly at you and was by your side in seconds. “What is it, pretty girl?” He ran the tips of his fingers up and down the side of your face as he waited.
“More.” You whispered, rolling onto your side to face him.
“More?” He raised an eyebrow. “More of what, baby?”
“You. More of you. All of you.” You pouted, hand resting on the side of his neck to pull him to you. You kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue.
He pulled back after a moment, pressing a kiss to your nose then forehead. “Yeah? Get up to the top of the bed, okay?”
You nodded and pushed yourself further up the bed as you watched him stand, pulling his shirt over his head and unbuttoning his pants. “So pretty.” You mumbled, watching him shed his layers until he was fully exposed to you.
“If you wanna stop, tell me. I promise I will.” He smiled, crawling up to settle between your legs.
“Okay.” You admired the way the lamp in the corner highlighted the high points of his face. You felt seen, needed more than desired. “Gareth.” Your voice was low, soft, you weren't sure he heard you until he hummed back. “I love you.”
His mouth went dry and he looked down at you. A hundred thoughts raced through his mind, all of them involving you and the reasons why he knew what he said next was true. “I love you too.” He bent down to kiss you again, gently, like you were made of glass and he was scared to break you.
You felt the truth behind his words in the way he was so careful, taking his time, making sure you were okay. Your mind only fell from the kiss when you felt him press against you, slipping through your folds. You gasped.
Gareth pulled back and looked down at you. “You’re okay baby. I’ve got you, okay?” He stopped all movement, waiting on you to respond.
“I know. I’m okay.” You replied, hips twitching a bit, anxious for his next move.
He nodded, finally positioning himself at your entrance. “I’m gonna go slow, geet you all nice and stretched out. You gotta tell me when you want me to move.”
You nodded, but were shocked at his tutting. “Use your words, baby.” You moaned at the sound of his lust filled voice.
“Okay.”
He kissed your forehead and pushed into you slowly stretching you open inch by inch. “Feel so good baby, shit.” He thought he may bust early because of how tight you were, but he kept his control, only shuttering once he was fully inside of you.
You waited a moment, soaking in the feeling, before you looked up into his eyes. “You can move now, please.”
Gareth chuckled darkly, his fingertips skimming over your cheek. “So fucking polite.” He dragged himself out slowly and pushed back in at an equal pace, watching your body react to him until you were begging him to go faster.
You were a moaning mess of pleasure, unsure of how you’d ever be able to anything other than be in bed with Gareth. There wasn’t a coherent thought in your head, let alone coming out of your mouth as he began slamming into you at a delicious pace.
His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed circles over your clit as he watched your face contort in ways he hadn’t seen before, ways that he needed to see again and again.
Your fingernails dug into his back, his scalp, the bedsheets, anything you could find to remind you that you were still on Earth.
“You’re close baby, I can feel it.” Gareth whispered into your ear as you tightened around him.
You nodded, unable to form a simple ‘yes’ in response.
“Give it to me. I know you can. That’s it, good girl.” Gareth’s hips sputtered as you came, white hot pleasure soaking both of you as he followed you over the edge, filling you with him.
There was a long moment of silence where the two of you recovered before you spoke. “Do you really love me?” You asked, turning to face him.
He half smiled, reaching his hand out to you. “I have loved you since our first day of elementary school when you came over and shared your 64 pack of crayons with me because I only had 24. You told me that wasn’t enough colors to be creative, so we made these two awful looking blobs with all 64 colors. That’s the day I knew I loved you.”
You giggled, wrapping yourself around him. “I knew I loved you the next day when I was on the swings by myself and you came over and told me that I was your best friend and best friends don’t swing alone. You pushed me so high I thought I was flying.” You smiled before pressing a kiss to his jaw.
“We’re so stupid.” He chuckled, shaking his head. He continued when he saw the curious look in your eyes. “We’ve been in love with each other since we were four. We were just to dumb to say anything. We could have been happier a lot sooner.” He smiled, pulling you into his body.
“Yeah, I guess we are pretty dumb, worried about what the other would have said. I’m glad I have you now. You’re not going anywhere.” You replied, drinking in the feeling of his skin on yours.
“Same goes for you, Doll. Same goes for you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and held you while you drifted to sleep.
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toointojoelmiller · 3 months
Text
Update: I continue to work on all things! Nothing is abandoned! New chapters will come!
The actual, fun and exciting update: I'm going to start recommending a few AMAZING TLOU fics that you might have missed on my blog every Saturday for the next while.
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I hope you find some new great reads to keep you going while we wait for season 2 - our fandom is seriously so freaking talented, and there are SO many incredibly written fics out there that I want to yell about a bunch of them! Please reblog!
These fics will vary re: how closely they stick to canon and what themes they explore, but you can expect them all to be wonderfully written and, obviously, heavily feature Joel Miller.
Some of these, including this weeks, may include mature content - make sure to read and heed the trigger warnings listed on ao3!
I have never really been interested in fan fiction with OCs, so I missed out on this week's recommendation for a long time and I bet a lot of you did too. It's both a wonderfully told Joel love story and a fic that, in my opinion, really honours the world and characters of TLOU.
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Go Your Own Way by @chronicallyonlinewriter 232,575 words || 31 chapters rating: mature [see ao3 tags for full content warnings] featuring: post season/game 1 life in Jackson, angst, fluff, action, romance, smut, plenty of protective Joel and parent Joel
You can check out a review from @march-flowerr below, describing some of what makes this story so special: (vague general spoilers re: themes and mature content)
“Go Your Own Way stands, in my mind, as one of the most well written piece of fiction on Archive of Our Own. Nandorluna has such an intimate and authentic take on the existing characters that we know and love (on Joel and Ellie and all the Jackson gang) but it’s her ability to create stunning, well fleshed out original characters that drew me to her story initially. Her main character, Benny, moves across the story in such a visceral and realistic way; her arc spans not just the present canon timeline, but transports us through an entire lifetime: from childhood to outbreak, to first love, to first loss, to heartbreak and grief and then finally, to her heart’s final resting place: Joel Miller.
Zee manages to write about and embrace such difficult topics as assault, pregnancy loss, and grief without ever once making a show of it. She handles each moment with quiet dignity and intense self reflection; she draws beauty from the hollow depth of heart ache and despair without ever once losing the thread of hope that The Last of Us is known for.
At the heart of Go Your Own Way is the love story of Joel and Benny. Zee manages to create a compelling story about brokenness and connection and the raw, rare glory that is finding someone with whom you can begin to fit yourself together with again. It’s a story of family - of people who when left to wander, find their hearts drawn to each other. It’s a story about love - each relationship, from Benny and Alexei’s long friendship, to Ellie and Joel’s turbulent first years, to Benny and Joel’s steadfast devotion for each other, caters to the soul. It’s a story that I’ve found myself returning to, again and again, in all moods and places in life. If I could change anything about it, it would only be that it did have to end after all."
If you read and love this, please please show the author some love and leave a kudos and comment!! Happy fandoming y'all.
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krirebr · 4 months
Note
Because I’m an ass another what if ask for your Kris-mas:
In More than This - Steve deserves the world. That’s a fact. And I will not be taking questions. So my what if:
What if readers mom and Steve’s dad didn’t get together until they were adults?
If you don’t already know where I’m going with this…what if Linda was actually onto something about Steve and readers relationship (again they did not grow up together, etc.)
😘
Ok, first off, I'm answering your 2nd ask before your first and just ruining all continuity. 😂 I just love this question so much and couldn't wait to get it posted!
So, I thought very long and hard about this and I knew I wanted to rewrite a scene from More Than This with this alternate alternate universe in mind. I considered doing their Ch 2 conversation together right before the wedding with Linda as a kind of looming specter, but Steve let me know that in these circumstances, he would have taken control long before then. So instead, here is a rewrite of their first scene in Ch 1. This happens right after Joseph makes her sign the contract. I hope you like it!
This is also about 1.2k and really pushes the limits of the definition of a drabble.
Tell Me One Thing
Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader
Warnings: Explicit language, angst, hopeful ending
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You let yourself into Steve’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. As you entered, you lightly knocked on the doorframe, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm, loving smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you stepped into his arms.
“I think we might be really fucked, Steve,” you muttered into his chest. You knew you shouldn’t be taking comfort in his body right now; you should be starting the process of pulling away, putting distance between the two of you, but you just couldn’t. He was all you had and you didn’t know how you’d survive losing him.
He took your face in both hands and made you look at him. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded seriously, as his eyes searched your face. You were freaking him out.
You sighed. “Your dad–” you blinked away tears as Steve’s face darkened. Another sigh. “I’m engaged.”
He dropped his hands and stepped back, looking at you carefully. “You’ve been engaged before,” he said, his voice purposely measured, trying not to show he was upset. “Nothing ever comes of it.” 
“I think this one is real, Steve.”
“What makes you think that?” his voice was harsh, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. Never at you.
“They set a date.” His eyes widened and he pursed his lips. You took a deep breath and continued, “A month from now.”
“A month from now?” he almost shouted, and your resolve finally crumbled, unable to hold back the tears anymore.
“I’m sorry,” you shook your head while you tried to wipe the tears away. “I can’t– I–”
You were in his arms before you realized what had happened. “Hey, hey,” he soothed. “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“How?” you asked. “How is it going to be ok? I’m getting married, Steve!”
He gently sat you on the couch and then pulled a chair from the corner to sit across from you, close enough that your knees touched. “I’ll talk to my dad. Buy us some time at least.”
You shook your head, remembering the most damning detail. “It won’t work. Everything’s already signed.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I signed. They made me sign, Steve. I’m so sorry!”
You felt him grab your hand and you reluctantly opened your eyes, afraid of what you’d find on his face. But when you made yourself look at him, all that was there was concern for you. How had you been so lucky as to find this man? Four years ago when your mother had finally been desperate enough to accept another arrangement, you’d only expected more of the same. Just another old man with a say as to what your future would look like. Joseph was exactly who you’d thought he’d be. But Steve, you never could have dreamed up Steve. Kind, attentive, generous, and so beautiful. The two of you quickly became very good friends, and then, after a drunken night out, something else. As you found yourself repeatedly falling into his bed, you knew you should stop. You both did. But you couldn’t. How were you supposed to resist him? He was your one good thing. So you kept it between the two of you, knowing your family would never stand for it. And before you knew it, you’d fallen in love with him. You’d kept that a secret too. 
His voice brought you back to the present, his thumb gently moving over the back of your hand. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
“What are we going to do, Steve?” you whispered. “I don’t think I can lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me,” he said, in his most serious voice. “Not ever. No matter what.” Neither of you said anything for the next several moments, Steve seemingly lost in thought, while you just tried to remember how to breathe. Then, finally, he spoke again. “Maybe nothing really has to change. We’ve kept this a secret for so long. We can just keep doing that.”
You took a deep breath, still not ready to confront the worst part of this. “He lives in Boston,” you said quietly. “I’ll be moving to Boston.”
 Steve’s face fell, his hold on your hands getting tighter. “Who.” he said, without any inflection.
“Ransom Drysdale.”
Steve stood up so fast that the chair tumbled over behind him. “No,” he growled. “Absolutely not!”
“Steve,” you sighed, suddenly so tired, looking up at him from the couch. 
He didn’t say anything, just stood there with his hands on his hips, shaking his head, his jaw ticking, staring into the corner. 
You sank into the silence, holding your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe how quickly everything had fallen apart. You should have been more prepared. Of course, this day would come.
Finally, after you didn’t even know how long, Steve spoke again, still staring into the corner. “We could just go.”
Your head shot up. “What?”
He turned his attention back to you. “We could go. Tonight. Why not?”
“A thousand reasons why not!” You were suddenly shouting. What was he thinking? Where had this come from? You couldn’t keep up. “I– What? Where would we even go?!”
He shrugged. “Somewhere. Anywhere. I have a little money put away, don’t you? Anywhere we want.”
You wanted to shake him. “Steve, that’s not–” You shook your head. “That isn’t a plan!”
“You want a plan?” he asked.
You stood up, throwing your hands in the air. “Yes! At minimum!”
“Ok,” he nodded and then grinned at you. “Come back in an hour and I’ll have a plan.”
“Steve,” you breathed, helplessly. 
He stepped back into your space, taking your face in his hands. “I love you. More than anything. Do you love me?”
Your eyes fluttered shut for just a moment then looked back at him. “Yes. You know I do.”
He nodded as a genuine smile lit up his entire face. He was so beautiful. “I think, I’ve always known we might have to do this. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it’s always been there. I’m not losing you. Especially not to Ransom Drysdale,” he growled the name. “Go home, get Lola. Maybe an overnight bag. Then come back here and I’ll have a plan for you.”
You searched his face, for what you didn’t entirely know. He was confident, resolute. Sure. Despite yourself, you nodded. “Ok.”
You started to pull away but his hands on your face wouldn’t let you. You looked at him in question and he shook his head. “I can’t believe you’ve been in my home all this time, and I haven’t kissed you yet. What’s wrong with me?” He leaned in and kissed you, gently at first, but as soon as you started kissing him back, he made it more passionate, filthier. It felt like he poured everything he wanted you to know into it. How much he loved you. How sure he was of a future together. This, of all things, had you believing, too, that maybe it was possible.
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ohwhataniight · 1 month
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I'm never gonna dance again - Part 3
I can't stop writing this story and I'm not even proofreading properly before posting (I'm sure it's obvious). Thank you so much for your likes and reblogs, I hope you like this <3
Part 1, Part 2
Songs:
Cry to Me, Solomon Burke
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Photo source
I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
“I have an international reputation.” Sherlock slurs, raising his head, his back still pressed against John’s sides as they’re lying down on the stairs. “Do you have an international reputation?”
“No, I don’t have an international reputation.” John responds, squeezing his eyes tightly together and seeing black dots. His head is spinning, the room is spinning even though he can’t see it, and his stomach churns. He can smell Sherlock’s cologne mixed with a hint of leather and tobbaco. When did Sherlock sneak outside for a smoke? They’d been together all night. John blames his negligence, but he doesn’t blame himself for his choices. Never. Sherlock decided things would pan out that way when he made crystal clear that he was married to his work, when he left him, all alone, for two excruciating years.
Mrs. Hudson finds them like that, scolds them for being back so early on his freaking stag night. Oh, yes. The stag night. The wedding. John is getting married in the morning and all he can think about is Sherlock’s body pressed against his own as the corners of the steps dig into their spines.
Sherlock makes an attempt to stand up and suddenly there is nothing against John’s side. The air hovering between them pisses him off, he wants to close the gap, to pull Sherlock close and lie back down, shut their eyes and let the universe swirl them in its vast vacuum of stars and nothingness.
Fuck.
Never without your love
I should've known better than to cheat a friend (should've known better, yeah)
And waste the chance that I'd been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you, oh
John is sitting on his chair, Sherlock’s leg bent between his own, his grip tight on Sherlock’s knee. His head is still spinning, standing upright has become a struggle, and he has to keep himself from getting nauseous, staring into Sherlock’s silver eyes that are glassy with stupor. They’ve been trying to figure out the names taped on their foreheads for a while, without much success.
“I’m you, aren’t I?” Sherlock asks eventually.
“No, you idiot, you’re you.”
Sherlock takes a few seconds to register the information, then goes pale. “John, my trusted doctor, you have to help me. I’m losing my power to deduce.”
John pokes him on the chest with his index finger. “Sod off, you’re just drunk.”
“I am, amn’t I?” Sherlock slurs, and John doesn’t even have the energy and focus to laugh at his friend’s faltering grammar. “I failed to deduce myself!” he carries on in a frantic voice.
John groans and presses the heel of his hands against his eyes, losing his balance and falling over, kneeling on the floor between Sherlock’s bent legs. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself. No one can deduce you sometimes, not even yourself,” he opens his eyes, staring at Sherlock’s form that’s swaying in front of him, so dangerously close that he can feel the intoxication on the man’s breath. Without completely realizing what he’s doing, his right hand comes to rest on the left side of Sherlock’s chest, his fingers sprawled out against the expensive fabric. “No one can deduce your heart, Sherlock,” he blurts out, lost in the alcoholic haze of his mind. He feels his own pulse thrumming in his veins, his head throbbing with excitement and sheer terror. They’ve gotten too close. If John does not contain himself it’s going to be too late, too soon.
Sherlock’s hand comes to rest upon John’s own, pressing it firmly on his chest, over his heart that’s fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. “You are my heart,” he murmurs, his eyes moving from John’s eyes to his dry lips for a split second, then back up to his eyes, breath catching on his throat.
John doesn’t register who makes the first move, but they’re kissing, ever so softly, lips pressed on lips in timid exploration, and soon it becomes urgent, vehement, lips part and they’re dancing, this time with their tongues, in a frantic rhythm full of breathless staccatos. John’s free hand comes to rest on Sherlock’s cheek and he feels the ever so faint beginnings of a day’s stubble sprouting on the detective’s skin. His hand moves back, cupping the nape of Sherlock’s neck, gently tugging on his dark curls as he takes Sherlock’s lush lower lip between his teeth. He elicits a groan and takes it as his cue to break the kiss and dig his teeth lower, into Sherlock’s long neck, his tongue tracing the sharp line of his jaw.
Sherlock hands press against John’s chest and he’s pushing him away, looking horrified as he’s trying to catch his breath. “No, John. We can’t... Mary...”
“Shh,” John silences him softly as his fingers come to trace the outline of Sherlock’s facial features ever so slowly, the pupils of his eyes moving frantically around Sherlock’s face, trying to take him all in. “I’ve waited for so long...” he mutters, closing the distance between them with another kiss. “Why, Sherlock?” he mumbles against his lips, his voice breaking. “Why? Everything could be different...”
“I know,” Sherlock breathes hoarsely, his own fingers travelling on the rougher skin of John’s face. “I’m sorry, I know...” He lets himself slide from his chair and join John on the floor, helping him shift from the uncomfortable position that must have made his knees lose feeling. They are both sitting down, their legs sprawled out, Sherlock’s knees bent around John’s waist. John’s hands travel down to Sherlock’s back, on his sides, on his hips, and land under his buttocks. With strong arms he pulls Sherlock to sit on his lap and Sherlock bends his legs, his calves folded on the floor under his thighs, the bulge on his pants pressing hard against John’s own throbbing erection. He presses their bodies together, attempting to synchronize their heartbeats but it’s all too frantic and Sherlock can’t keep up. He’s dizzy and has lost all control of his body and mind. Everything hurts, from his eyelashes to his toes. Everything is burning him from inside out.
John breaks the kiss when he tastes tears. He doesn’t know whom they belong to; they pull away, staring at each other, and they both realize they’re tasting salt. Their foreheads come to rest together, their fingers intertwine on their sides.
Suddenly, Sherlock untangles his own from John's and manages to pull himself up so that he can stand. He manages to with unexpected sobriety and he reaches for his phone, deft fingers manipulating the screen, thumb pressing Play. He extends his hand to John and helps him up, steadying him against his body as the first, notes of Cry to Me fill the room with yearning.
To be continued...
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