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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months

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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 5

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: This definitely should've been two parts...

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexisim, trauma from under the mountain, alcohol, SA, blood, Rhys is sweet but oblivious, autumn court men are pigs, SMUT (mwhahaha),

Word Count: 9,218 (I don't wanna talk about it)

For about the hundredth time that evening I had given myself the once over. The afternoon had been spent with handmaidens all over me, styling my hair, lining my eyes in kohl, polishing my nails in Autumn Court red, shining the diamond necklace given to me by Eris, and making sure I lived up to my name.

I was surprised by how simple the dress was that was chosen for me. The handmaidens said they wanted to let my natural beauty show, as well as my new collar, I mean necklace. I ran my hands over the large, freshly polished gems. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get used to the weight of it.

I made my way to the foyer where I knew my brother and his Inner Circle would be waiting. Anxiety filled my chest. Tonight I would be dancing and mingling with hundreds of people, but I only cared about one. The man Azriel was currently nudging with his elbow to get him to turn around.

Cassian was lethal in fighting leathers and he was deadly in his most casual clothes, but the jacket and pants he wore tonight? It was a miracle I was still standing upright.

His eyes shot to me and his mouth parted slightly, sucking in a breath. Those eyes, those hazel eyes, how they burned a hole right through my soul. Right through the gown and the jewels and straight into the heart of me. Cassian looked at me the way every female dreamed of being looked at.

“You look amazing sister,” Rhysand said, pulling my attention from Cassian.

I turned to where my brother stood with Mor, who was clad in her usual jaw dropping red. I hadn’t seen my brother in so long. With the war getting closer and things with Eris getting more intense I hadn’t seen him since that initial day at the Autumn Court four weeks ago. While I missed his face, it reminded me of the sacrifices he made for me, and reminded me why marrying Eris was so important.

“You clean up pretty good too, Rhys,” I smiled, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I have something for you,” Rhys grinned, waving a hand in the air to pull a dazzling tiara seemingly from mid air. “I went into the vaults and grabbed this. It was mother’s, and I thought you might like to wear it.”

The tiara was beautiful and the moment it appeared in his hand I recognized it. It was one of our mothers favorites, made to look like a crown of shooting stars flying across her head like a halo. I had forgotten how magnificently she used to dress everyday.

“Oh Rhys,” I cried, throwing my arms around him while tears welled up in my eyes.

“I know, I miss her too,” he murmured into my shoulder.

“Help me put it on?” I ask him, pulling away and wiping my tears.

“Of course,” he smiled with his own eyes glassed over. He bent down slightly to place the tiara on my head before standing back to admire it. “She would’ve been so proud of you.”

“I think she would’ve been proud of both of us,” I beam at him, rubbing circles over the tops of his hands. “Now enough with the nostalgia, I’m going to cry off all my makeup. Let’s go party.” I laugh off my tears.

“Yeah c’mon Rhys you’re going to make us all sad drunks,” Mor said, clasping her hand in Cassian’s and winnowing them out.

Rhys held my fingers tight as he winnowed us along with her and Azriel was moments behind us. The second that the smell of damp leaves and woodsmoke filled my senses I felt a shudder run down my spine. I told myself that tonight with Eris would be different, but if the last time he had too much wine was any indication of how this evening would go…

The ballroom was filled with members of every court as my brother led me into the large space, Cassian’s looming presence flanking my right side. It was impressive to see all the different types, colors and textures of clothing. It would make a lovely and chaotic painting if anyone ever had the will to commission it. Of course, Night Court black stood out like a sore thumb, but I certainly didn’t mind. It’s not like my brother and I weren’t the center of attention everywhere we went anyways. I looked to Rhys to find his eyes rapidly scanning the sea of people and I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“She isn’t here brother,” I said quietly into his ear.

“Who isn’t here?” he asked, trying to play the fool.

“The cursebreaker you’ve been searching the crowd for,” I laugh. “I asked Eris if she would be in attendance and he said that Tamlin and her had not replied to his invitation.”

“You asked Eris for me?” Rhys said, finally turning his head to me in surprise.

“Well I didn’t tell him why I wanted to know whether or not they were attending. I just asked casually. I secretly hoped you’d get to see her,” I smiled.

“You’re a wonderful little sister, you know that?” Rhys smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Yeah yeah you big softie,” I laughed, nudging his shoulder. From the corner of my eye I could see Eris making his way through the crowd with two glasses of wine in hand.

“Rhysand, princess, we’re overjoyed that you could make it.” Eris smiled that conniving smile. “For you my little flame,” he said, handing me a goblet of wine and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

“We’re happy to have been invited,” Rhysand smiles and I swear I hear two females faint somewhere in the room.

“Walk with me darling?” Eris says, extending an arm to me. I take it but not before glancing to my right once to see the worry in Cassian’s eyes.

As we pace around the border of the room I see why Eris chose to promenade first and dance later. It felt like every single eye in the room followed the same pattern. First they widened at the sight of me, then they flicked over to Eris, down to our linked arms and finally back to me once again. Their stares were stifling, I hadn’t been around this many people since under the mountain.

Eris didn’t want to promenade first to finish our drinks, oh no. He wanted everyone in this godsforsaken room to see that the Jewel belonged to him. The smirk on his face was a dead give away.

“You look ravishing tonight little flame,” Eris whispered into my ear, his breath hot in my neck. “That's why they’re all staring.”

“Don’t worry I’m used to the staring,” I replied truthfully trying to avoid all the eyes on me.

“I’m sure you are,” he chuckled. “Stay used to it pet, I have every intention of parading you around all night. Let them stare all they want. It’s only a problem if they touch.”

His words sent ice through my veins. It didn’t matter how many cruel or shocking things Eris said to me. Each and every time they cut like knives, taking a little piece of me with them that I would never get back.

“Is that the Jewel?” crooned a too familiar voice. I turned my head to find Helion standing in all his glory, a friendly smile plastered on his face.

“Helion!” I smiled, embracing him warmly. It had been too long since I felt the warmth of my friend's gaze.

“My dear you look exquisite as always,” he smiled, twirling me around so he could see all of me. “Your brother keeps you on too short a leash, I haven’t seen you since, well, since we were under the mountain.”

Eris’ body tightened next to me as he slid a hand possessively around the small of my waist, pulling me into his side, “Indeed, Helion, but rest assured, she's in good hands now. And her leash is exactly where it needs to be.” His words carried a veiled threat.

“That’s right,” Helion smiled, ever the charmer. “I heard that Rhysand had finally given her away. Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Oh we aren’t engaged yet, just courting.” I smile nervously, placing my hand on Eris' chest in an attempt to keep him from blowing his top off.

“Yes just courting, for now,” he smirked, nuzzling my neck.

My body might’ve been wrapped around Eris like a lovesick fool, but I let my eyes convey the truth to my friend. Helion looked at me with a sad remorse and I knew then and there that he had put the pieces together.

“I’ll leave you two love birds be,” he said trying to hide his disdain. “I think I hear Thessan calling me.”

We bid our goodbyes and I slammed what was left of my wine and placed it on the side table of the chaise next to us.

“I didn’t think I’d have to share tonight,” Eris rolled his eyes, continuing our walk around the perimeter.

“You can’t court the Jewel and get upset that everyone else wants to as well,” I scoff at his insolence.

“I am going to be High Lord, I can do whatever I want,” Eris seethes, stopping our stride and pulling my arm towards him so that I slam into his chest.

“Eris stop you’re making a scene,” I say tightly trying to pull my wrist from his grasp.

“Good, that's exactly what I want – to cause a scene. Let them look,” he growls, hurling his lips towards mine. His kiss is anything but polite and High Lord-ly and from the strong taste of wine and whiskey on his lips I underestimated how drunk he already was. Behind me I could faintly hear gasps of the people around us, no doubt bearing witness to the very public display of power he was putting on.

He pulls his lips from mine and stares at me with a predatory gaze and as both our chests heave, “Now that’s better,” he smirks.

I resist the urge to wipe my mouth off as I pluck another glass of wine from a silver tray and down it. Gods this night was just getting started and it already couldn’t get any worse.

“I want to dance,” I say abruptly to Eris. If we dance there’s a chance that someone might cut in and save me for at least a minute or two.

“Fine, let’s go.” Eris grumbles downing his wine as well.

He leads me out onto the dance floor and the crowd of dancers parts for us. For what specific reason? I can’t name why. Maybe it’s to get a good look at me, or maybe it’s because Eris is truly that terrifying. Either way I can’t help but feel like I’ve been placed in a glass box and suspended where the crystal chandelier is in the middle of the room.

Eris leads me into a dance and I don’t miss how tight his grip is on my waist, practically warning off anyone who might try and whisk me away from him. There goes that wonderful plan.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Eris complimented me and I noticed him trying to seem more sober.

“Thank you, my father taught me when I was a little girl,” I replied looking around the room.

From the second I had stepped onto the floor I could feel that searing gaze that took me apart bit by bit following me throughout my waltz. Finally I saw Cassian at the edge of the room with Azriel. Both of them leaning against the edge of the wall, wings tight on their bodies to keep people from brushing into them. Azriel whispered something into Cassian’s ear that had him downing his drink.

“I wish you could see the looks of envy around the room,” Eris said low into my ear, his voice carrying an undertone of possessiveness. “Envy of what I have. Envy of what they'll never possess. You've been this mythical thing for so long, and now you're utterly tangible, and more importantly, you're mine.”

“I’m not yours yet, Eris. You would do well to remember that.” I utter to him trying my best to keep my voice even.

Before he can even have a chance to lash out at me, a throat clears next to us halting our movements. I turn my gaze from Eris' fiery gaze and find Cassian standing before us and I curse my heart from nearly leaping out of my chest at the way he’s staring Eris down, like he heard every word he said.

“Princess, would you honor me with a dance?” Cassian said, his usual tone of confidence laced with uncertainty.

“I would love to Cassian,” I smile, feeling my cheeks blush.

“Over my dead body would she dance with the likes of you,” Eris simmers, pulling me closer to him. His grip on my arm was like a brand.

“No, you don’t get to speak for her,” Cassian growls, grasping the hand Eris has on me.

“Eris this isn’t very High Lord-ish behavior,” I grumbled under my breath feeling even more eyes find our little disagreement.

“He’s a bastard pet, he would soil you.” Eris replies, trying his best to show his restraint as he and Cassian engage in the biggest staredown this court has ever seen.

“Yes, a bastard with nothing to lose and a dance with the Jewel to gain. Remember what I said about that arm Prince Eris? It would be a pity if you couldn’t hunt next season,” Cassain said back, his words a not so veiled threat.

“One dance,” Eris chides. “Then I want her returned to me.” He dips a hand under my chin to place a kiss on my lips, no doubt trying to antagonize Cassian further.

If Cassian is provoked by the gesture he doesn’t show it. He simply sweeps me up into a dance the second the next song starts. His arms around me contrast the feeling of Eris so well. They’re warm and strong compared to Eris, who has a touch so cold it could freeze over hell. I take a deep breath to ground myself, Cassian’s scent of cedar and leather fills my senses and puts me at ease.

“I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble,” he said and I could tell he meant it. He probably assumed that Eris would behave more accordingly in such a public setting.

“No you actually saved me,” I laughed, falling easily into step with him.

“You look beautiful tonight, I don’t think I got a chance to tell you that earlier,” Cassian said tightly, like the words might hurt him. The tension in the air following what happened with Eris still thick.

“No I don’t think you did,” I replied and mentally cursed myself at how dumb it sounded. I get compliments all the time, and I always respond with grace and poise like I was taught. But something about Cassian takes away every piece of training away from me, for a moment I’m just a regular person.

“Then I’m a fool and I should’ve said it sooner,” he replied, spinning me out and pulling me back in. I was surprised by how well he moved on the dance floor.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” I smile and his eyes that were previously on his feet now meet mine.

“I can’t. I had Mor teach me this one so I could dance with you at least once tonight. That’s why I’ve been so short with you, I’m counting my steps,” Cassian laughs, blush tinting his cheeks. “Once this song is over Az is going to cut in so I don’t have to face the embarrassment of trying to dance to whatever they play next.”

It takes me a minute to process all that he’s said, and as I’m trying to read his face to see if he’s telling the truth or not I can see his lips twitching as he counts his steps in his head. A smile breaks across my lips and I can’t help but laugh.

“Oh Cassian,” I giggle, pressing my forehead into his shoulder. His arms immediately pull me close and I relish the feeling. “No one’s ever done anything like that for me before. Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for you princess,” he smiles and for a moment I’m transported back into that dark hallway. I suddenly become all too aware of our joined hands, his hand on my waist flexing like he’s scared to have it there.

“You’re actually a really wonderful dancer,” I laugh trying to keep myself from throwing myself at him.

Cassian’s mouth turns up to the side as his eyes burn into mine, “one, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.” he counts. I let out another laugh as we continue to spin around the room, he even throws in a lift every now and then when he forgets the steps.

The song is over all too soon and within seconds of the last note being played Azriel steps in with a gracious bow.

“Princess,” the shadowsinger greets me.

“Azriel,” I curtsey.

“Thanks brother,” Cassian smiles, clapping Azriel on the back before heading out.

“Don’t mention it,” Az nods, taking me in his arms and beginning to waltz me around. “Did he tell you?”

“Yes he did,” I laugh remembering the blush that covered his cheeks when he did. Never in my life did I think I would see my general, The Lord of Bloodshed, blush. “Have you been practicing with Mor too?” I raise an eyebrow.

“No actually,” Azriel says, spinning me around in a circle. “Dancing has always come quite naturally to me.”

“Well I’d even dare to say that you’re a better dance partner than Eris,” I smile as Azriel dips me with the grace that only a warrior could possess.

“Speaking of Eris, I saw what happened. Are you okay?” Azriel asks quietly, pulling me closer so that no one can hear us.

“As okay as I can be. Gods everything about this room is stifling.” I roll my eyes.

“Would you like to get some air outside?” he asks me and I nod.

Azriel leads me out to the terrace at the back of the ballroom. When we get there I expect to see at least one couple sticking their tongues down each other's throats. But when the chill night air hits my bare skin it’s easy to see why we’re the only ones out here. I lean my back against the railing as Azriel closes the wooden doors behind us, the sound of the symphony and chattering people becoming muffled.

Az pulls a corked bottle of wine out from behind his back with a cheeky grin, “You looked like you might need this.” he says pulling out the cork with a pop.

“You’re a literal savior Az,” I smile, taking the bottle from him and putting it to my lips. It was the same wine I complimented Beron on and it slid down all too easy.

Azriel leans against the banister with me as we look out over the Autumn Court. Darkness envelops the land so that the only thing to be seen are a few fae lights and of course, the stars. I smile at the sky for a moment. No matter where I go or whom I marry, night will always follow me, and there’s a comfort there.

“So you’re really going through with this?” Azriel croons, his voice laced only with curiosity.

“I am,” I nod, swigging from the bottle again. “Eris is a viper, but he has something we need. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my people and my family safe.”

“You deserve to marry for love y/n. You deserve to be happy too. You think that Rhys is the only one who made sacrifices for you and our court but you went under that mountain too.” he points out using that big brother tone he loves to use so much.

“Saving my court will make me happy.”

“But is marrying Eris what you truly want?” he asks honestly, trying to get to the root of things. So I let him have it.

“Gods no Az. Look at me. Eris has already made me his little pet with this ridiculous necklace. I don’t think I could ever love Eris or be truly happy with him. But he’s been very clear about me bearing him many children, maybe I’ll find my happiness in them,” I rant, chugging more wine trying to drown out the sound of the voices in my head.

“What about Cassian?” Azriel asks and my heart nearly stops. I don’t even let myself breathe for a moment.

“What about him, Azriel?” I sigh, turning around and pressing my back to the bannister so that I could see the wooden doors that lead back to the viper den of aristocrats.

“You obviously have feelings for him,” Azriel scoffs like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“What makes you say that?” I laugh. Azriel is dangerously close to covering the truth, one I haven’t had the guts to admit to myself. Because saying the words out loud? They would crumble the very foundations I stand upon, and then what would be left?

“Because I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“And how do I look at him? Huh?” I try to keep the fierce facade.

“You look at him the same way every man, woman, and child looks at you.” Azriel blurts out, his voice laced with frustration. “Hell even I used to look at you that way till I realized I couldn’t hold a candle to the way you look at Cassian.”

I crumble. Every thought I have falls apart at Azriel making such a statement because I know it’s true. But to acknowledge it, or even worse, to act on it? How selfish of a person would that make me? To turn my back on my brother who saved me under the mountain. To possibly deny him the chance to be with his mate, the cursebreaker, because he dies in battle. To risk Azriel’s life because he has to be on the front lines. To risk the lives of every man, woman and child in my court.

I had thought about it, gods I had. Especially at night, when I woke from my nightmares of being under the mountain. Or when I dreamt of that small female puppy in Eris’ kennels. It would’ve been so easy for me to walk into Cassian’s room just one door down and ask him to hold me. Oh gods I wanted him to hold me. But it couldn’t be and that killed me.

“You’re bold shadowsinger,” I gritted my teeth, sipping the last of the wine. “I’ll give you that. But if you’ll excuse me, Eris is probably looking for me.”

I shove the empty bottle of wine into his chest and thrust open the doors. I hear him call out for me clearly feeling bad about what he had said, but I don’t turn back. Tears prick my cheeks and I know that if I face Azriel once more and show him the truth I’ll fall apart completely.

My eyes scan the crowd for Eris, and admittedly Cassain. The latter is nowhere to be seen, but eventually I find Eris lounging on a chaise with a few of his friends, all of them clad in Autumn Court attire laughing boisterously. I walk over to him dodging everyone in front of me, wine clouding my mind.

“There she is,” Eris slurs, the wine from 4his glass nearly spilling out as he sits it on an end table. “Come here my pet,” he smirks, pulling me down to sit on his lap.

I grab the wine he set down and sip from it as I take in the men around us. At first glance I can tell they are all pompous assholes by the way they rake their gaze down my body. One even has the nerve to cock his eyebrow at me and my head turns to Eris to avoid his gaze.

“Isn’t she exquisite gentlemen?” Eris asks, nuzzling my neck.

A collective murmur of agreement falls upon the small group.

“The Jewel of Prythian,” Eris says, kissing my neck and I try to squirm out of his grasp but he only pulls me closer to him.

“I’ll say!” one of the men cheer causing the whole group to chuckle.

Eris’ mouth falls from my neck to my collar bone, “Have I told you yet tonight that this corset is doing wonders for your perfect tits pet?” he murmurs licking a long stripe up the side of my neck earning a round of tantalizing ‘ohhhs’ from his friends. At this rate I’m surprised they all haven’t whipped their cocks to enjoy the show Eris was so happily putting on.

“He’s not wrong,” says another man and I feel Eris smirk against the tops of my breasts. He’s enjoying the game of dangling me in front of his friends. A forbidden fruit only he can indulge in.

“I wonder how many males have fucked those tits,” crooned another bringing laughter to the forefront once more.

Eris laughs, “She’s completely untouched,” he smirks into my skin. “I’ll be the first.”

The men utter how impressed they are. Some mention how jealous they are. My heart rate quickens knowing that I couldn’t have walked into a worse situation.

“Eris,” I hiss quietly, my eyes scanning the room for Cassian but he’s nowhere to be seen still. I even look for Azriel or my brother, but the room is so packed full of people I can’t make anyone out.

“You know I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Eris croons and I know that tone, the one that means something terrible is about to happen. “When you said I don’t own you yet?”

“Eris stop you’re drunk,” I say low as I try to wiggle out of his grasp but it only instigates him more.

“Well the idea that you weren’t truly mine yet based on a technicality didn’t sit right with me little flame,” he started, blatantly ignoring my protests. “So while I let you dance with your filthy dog I ran downstairs to the vault.”

No, no, no, no. This isn’t happening.

“And I grabbed this,” he says, pulling out a ring so large I was surprised he was able to keep it hidden. Eris grabbed my left hand with unnecessary force and slid the thing on my ring finger. The weight of it nearly made me hurl. “Now you are mine. I’ve lived up to my end of the bargain, it’s been a month of courting and I’ve decided you will make a very obedient and agreeable wife.”

“And don’t forget fuckable!” the first man who spoke cheered.

“Yes, I’ll enjoy ruining you, my pet,” Eris smirks, kissing me softly.

“Hell yeah we need an heir!”

These men know no morals, no shame, no compassion. If my brother heard a fraction of what they were saying…Yes, my brother. Gods he probably heard so much worse with Amarantha.

“I can promise you all that an heir will be in her belly within a month,” Eris announced to his cadre, earning cheers from them all as they drank from their cups.

I knew it was coming. I think in my heart I always did. From the moment I met Eris he had never once given me any indication that he wouldn’t marry me. Hell even if he hated me it was evident that he had every intention of marrying me just so he could say he deflowered and owned the Jewel of Prythian. I knew all of this and yet I still felt blindsided.

“What do you say pet? Shall we start trying now?” Eris croons, earning another rally from his companions.

“Eris that’s enough,” I grunt, pushing him off for good this time. The men around us laugh at my reluctance as I stand to my feet.

“You little!” Eris seethe standing up right after me and gripping my arm.

“Bend her over your knee and spank her Eris!” drunkenly laughed a man.

“You touch me right now and our marriage will be void by the laws of your court!” I growl, reminding him.

“I am the High Lord, I'll change them myself!” he growls at me.

“Not yet you aren’t,” I scorn him, nothing short of murder in my eyes. “I will see you in three days time to begin planning the wedding. I expect you to be sober and act with the morals befitting of a future High Lord.”

I free my arm from his grasp, leaving him to contend with the embarrassment of failing to control his future wife in front of his companions. I rip off the engagement ring and pocket it, unable to stand the weight of it. My eyes dart around for Cassian and when I don’t find him I grab a bottle of wine from one of the unattended tables. I make my way to the front door, choosing to walk all the way back to the Night Court if necessary. As I reach for the door it’s pulled back by the other side revealing a very disheveled Cassian.

“There you are, I was looking for you,” I grumble, still agitated from Eris’ antics.

“You look upset, what happened?” he slurs slightly.

“Are you drunk?” I ask tapping my foot in the still half open doorway.

“Yes, but you didn’t answer my question, what the hell happened?” Cassian grumbled straightening up and pushing the fog from his brain.

“Eris happened,” I complained, gesturing to where he sat laughing with his companions again. “He was just showing me off and talking about making an heir and all that shit. It doesn’t matter. I stole some wine, let's go.” I huff starting to move past him.

“No that’s it, I’m going to fucking kill him.” Cassian seethes and begins to move past me, but I place a hand on him stopping him.

“No stop,” I protest standing in front of him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Eris. “I’ve had enough drama for one night. Please just take me home.”

Cassian doesn’t take his gaze off the future High Lord, his breathing picking up, the siphons he had on his hands glowing.

“Cassian,” I whisper, his name for only him to hear. His gaze falls to mine and softens. “Take me home.” I plead.

His eyes go soft at my pleas and I see him come back to earth, “Let’s go,” he says leading me out the door.

We step out into the night air and waltz down the steps. Each and every step that we take pulls me further away from that cursed room, and as the sound of music and chatter get even further away I start to feel myself relax more. Cassian’s presence is like an anchor that keeps my feet on the ground. I am comfortable. I am safe.

We reach the bottom of the long stairway, and Cassian stops in his tracks. I turn to find him looking a little shocked, like he just remembered something.

“What is it?” I ask taking a step towards him.

“I uh,” he stumbles over his words. “I got you something.”

He turns around to a large potted plant at the base of the long steps leading up to the ballroom. His large form bends down to pick up something that’s behind it and when he emerges once more he holds a puppy in his arms. I can’t help but gasp as the puppy wiggles to life, looking comically small in the Illyrians arms. I set down the stolen bottle of wine so that I can see her.

“I might’ve gotten a little drunk and broken into Eris’ kennels to get her,” he laughs passing her into my arms. “You just loved her so much and you kept talking about her and… I just couldn’t leave her.”

The puppy wiggled in my arms licking my face like she had remembered me from our first meeting. I know I would know her face and markings anywhere.

“Oh Cassian you have no idea how much this means to me,” I beam tears gracing my eyes.

“I figured we could find her a better home, somewhere she will be loved,” Cassain smiled.

It that moment I don’t think I could’ve ever loved him more. I looked up to see him watching the puppy wiggling in my arms. Everything about him was so beautiful, from his sharp jawline to the tendrils of hair that had fallen out of his low bun. I couldn’t help myself. I stood on my tip toes and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you Cassain,” I smile at him as I watch that blush return to his cheeks.

“Anything for you princess,” he reminds me. “Now we really have to get going before someone figures out I stole that thing.” Cassian laughs picking up the bottle of wine and then me.

We take off into the air and I can’t help but let out a laugh at how ridiculous this all looks. A general, his princess, a stolen puppy and a stolen bottle of wine making a beeline for the Night Court.

Cassian and I land on the terrace of the House of Wind in a fit of laughter recalling stories of his and my brother's adolescent lives.

“I couldn’t help myself, he was some prick in his new training clothes and I was a kid with nothing. He deserved to get a little beat up!” Cassian laughed, the most real one I had ever heard from him.

“He probably deserved it. Rhys is terrible at first impressions,” I giggle thinking of how haughty my young brother used to be.

Cassian opens the door to the kitchen and living room letting us both in. The house is dark save for a few fae lights over the kitchen island. I wasn’t sure where the shadowsinger was, but whatever lady he was entertaining was certainly a lucky one. The puppy had fallen asleep in my arms on the flight home, so I set her adorable self down on one of the many plush couches. The entire time I felt Cassian’s eyes watching me intensely.

“My buzz is starting to wear off,” I smile, turning from the pup and walking past Cassian and into the kitchen. “Let’s have a nightcap before we go to bed.”

I pull out my brothers expensive whiskey and a couple of glasses. I wait for Cassian to say something, anything, but he stays silent. The only indication that he’s still there are the raised hairs on my neck indicating that he’s watching the back of my head as I start to pour myself a glass.

“Single or double?” I ask him, my hands holding his glass and the decanter of whiskey.

I wait for a response, but the silence that seeps from him fills the room with an unexplainable tension. I’m suddenly all too aware of the lack of heat in the room as the hair on my arms rises and oh gods I can feel him. His presence behind me.

The sound of cool, calculated and slow footsteps echo off the walls of the room and suddenly he’s there behind me. His heat radiates towards me and I don’t dare turn around. His fingertips graze the backs of my elbows, letting me know he’s there.

“Y/n,” his voice is like a prayer as his hands dance around the backs of my arms. My breath hitches at the utterance of my name, he never calls me by my name and the sound of it on his lips makes my toes curl.

I slowly turn from the kitchen island and I’m met with a wall of pure muscle. I crane my head up to meet his intense gaze, and his eyes say everything. They pierce right through me. I rest my hands on his forearms letting the feel of the fabric over them ground me but it doesn’t help. He’s too close, and he’s too warm and he’s everything.

“Cassian,” I whisper for only him to hear.

I press a hand to his chest feeling his heartbeat beneath his shirt finding that it’s beating just as wildly as mine. My eyes meet his again and there’s a pleading there, like he might be suffering and I’m the only one who can end it.

“Kiss me,” I breathe.

His hand sweeps under my chin pulling his lips on mine and I suddenly realize why the romance novels I’ve read describe it as earth shattering. Cassian’s hands fall to my waist and I feel like I’m on fire everywhere his body meets mine. His lips feel like heaven against my own, nothing like the way Eris kisses me. No, Cassian kisses me like he might love me. My hands grip his shirt and pull him closer.

I feel his fingers slide down my waist and beneath my thighs. He hoists me up, dress skirts and all, onto the counter and I suddenly have much better access to him. His mouth wanders down my neck leaving wet kisses all over me. I place a hand behind me to get more support and the empty whiskey glass shatters on the tile floor.

The large necklace Eris gave me gets in the way of his kisses and I feel my blood boil for a moment. How could I belong to Eris when Cassian kisses me like this? When he holds me like I’m his everything?

I capture my lips in Cassian’s once more pulling him away from my neck. His mouth is warm and soft on mine. My fingers find the front of the ridiculous necklace and I tear it off, the sound of the clasp breaking reverberating through the house. Cassian growls and presses his hips further between my legs, my hand slaps on the granite counter for support, the gems of the necklace clattering with it. I release it so that my hands can fly to the buttons on his shirt. The growl that had come from his lips had changed something in me. I needed him now, and I needed all of him.

“Cassian,” I pleaded. The name rolls off my tongue with such ease. His hands roam my body and all I can think about is how I need more. More, more, more, more.

I get the top half of his shirt unbuttoned and I let my fingers roam the bare skin that lies there. He’s warm against my chilled hands, and as my fingertips brush over a long scar I can’t help but want to feel all of him. Know all of him.

“Stop, stop,” Cassian mutters, taking my hands in his and pulling them away from his chest.

My mind immediately starts to panic as he backs away from me. What have I done? I’ve ruined everything. I try to meet Cassian’s eyes from a few feet away but he won’t look at me. Instead he looks at his hands, like they’re covered in blood.

“I can’t. I can’t do this,” he mutters still out of breath.

My heart shatters. I had dreamed of kissing Cassian, of having him hold me like he was just seconds ago. Never did any of those dreams end the way this one is now.

“Cassian I-”

“I’m not worthy,” he breathes, never taking his eyes off his hands. “I’m not worthy of you.”

My already shattered heart shatters again.

I slide off the counter taking slow steps towards him waiting for him to flinch or move away but he doesn’t. I reach him placing a hand on the cheek feeling the stubble there, and despite his words I swore he leaned into my touch ever so slightly. My thumb caresses his face, begging his eyes to meet mine and they do. In that beautiful shade of hazel there’s a sorrow by likes of which I’ve never seen.

“Then show me every part of you that feels unworthy of my love and let me kiss it until it knows nothing but it,” I say to him, praying he hears every single word. His eyes soften.

“Y/n,” he breathes pulling my lips to his once more and I swear right then and there that I’d do anything that man asked me if he just said my name like that again.

My arms wrap around his neck pulling him down towards where I stand on my tiptoes to reach him. Somehow this kiss is more passionate, on both ends as I try to live up to what I’ve told him. His hands hoisted me up again, even though the skirt of my dress was debilitating.

I feel myself being carried down the hall into a room I realize is his from this scent enveloping me from every angle. He sets me down gently, like I might break and kicks the door behind him closed. My hands find the last buttons on his shirt and I get them off with ease, my next course of action has me reaching around my back to tug at the strings of the corseted dress. I get the tie undone, but the rest is tricky.

“Wait, stop,” Cassian orders, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “Are you sure you want this? Because once I start I won’t be able to stop.”

“I want this, I want all of you Cassian.” I nod still breathless and his eyes search mine for any hint of a lie. “Please,” I beg and I watch all resolve fall from his face.

“Fuck y/n,” he moans before pressing his lips to mine.

My hands find the bare muscles of his chest, and try to commit every line and scar to memory. I run my hands all over him, the warmth and feel of him addicting. My fingers fall lower over his abs and I swear I melt at the years of building muscle there.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You can’t touch me like that.” he growls using his hands on my hips to spin me around so my back is flush to him.

His lips find my neck and I swear I could fall apart just by the way his mouth feels on my skin. I feel the laces on my dress get looser and looser as his fingers work them apart behind me. The second the top one is loose enough the weight of the skirt pulls the top down leaving me completely bare. My breath hitches as I feel his calloused fingers gently coaxing me to turn around and face him. The second I do my cheeks flush and I fight the urge to cover myself.

“You’re so beautiful. I wish I knew a better way to say it than that. You are-” he loses his words, pulling me closer so my breasts are pressed to the bare skin of his chest. The feeling is euphoric. “You are everything.” he says, and it feels more like a confession.

He leans in to kiss me once more but I press my hand to his cheek to stop him, “Cassian,” I breathe and I feel his breath hitch at the way I say his name. “I love you.” the phrase echoes through the room.

I feel his body tense pulling me impossibly close. “Now I’m never letting you go,” he mutters, pressing his lips to mine in a fiery need.

His hands hoist me up and I wrap my arms around his shoulders for support. My aching core brushes against his abs and it takes all my self control not to shift my hips to get more friction there. He lays me gently on his bed, and I feel my back sink into his mountains of pillows. His clothed hips settle between mine and he pulls his head back to look at me.

“I’ve loved you ever since I met you. We had just barely become adults and I walked into the townhouse for the first time and saw you reading a book by the fire and I knew,” he confessed. “I knew I loved you before I even knew your name.”

I couldn’t stop the rogue tear that slipped from my eye at his confession. Cassian’s lips kissed the drop away before pressing his lips to mine once more. My hands threaded to his hair as he made his way down my neck leaving a trail of fire everywhere his lips brushed.

“Can I touch you?” Cassian breathed against the valley between my breasts.

“Yes,” I hiss needing him everywhere.

His lips attach themselves to the aching bud of my breast, pulling it taut. I gasp, arching my back off the bed watching him roll my nipple in his mouth. His other hand reaches to twist my other breast and I swear I’ve never felt so good in my life. My hands find his long hair and tug on it, earning a groan from him that sends vibrations through me. He switches to the other side giving it the same treatment and oh gods, this man would certainly be the death of me. His lips come off my breast with a pop as he takes in the sight of me.

“You’re perfect,” he says, pressing a kiss between my breasts once more.

“I want you inside me,” I groan, pressing my hips into him.

“No I’ll hurt you,” he grits, feeling my arousal press against him as he leaves kisses on my stomach.

“Cassian please,” I cry, tears threatening to fall from the sheer need I have for him. His eyes meet mine and I know I have him right where I want him.

“It’s going to hurt y/n,” he tells me.

“I don’t care,” I say, leaning up a bit to cup his face bringing his lips to mine in a quick kiss. “When I said I want all of you Cassian I meant it. You said you’d do anything for me.”

“Fuck y/n, okay but I’m going to get you ready first,” he groans and before he can pull away I press a kiss to his forehead.

His lips trail down my stomach once more until he gets to where I need him most. He skips over my core to leave kisses on the inside of my thighs. My body goes limp and I fall into the pillows again craning my neck to see him. A hand slides up my thigh and runs through my folds causing me to arch my back.

“You’re so wet,” he grits out feeling the pool of arousal between my legs.

“Cass please,” I whine, arching my hips to his mouth.

I watch his eyes flair at the nickname and within moments his mouth is on me licking a stripe up my core that has me letting out an unnatural sound of pleasure. His tongue swirls around my entrance before licking another long stripe through my folds once more, flicking his tongue at the top. He attacks an area between my legs that has me arching off the bed and seeing stars. Surely there could be no better pleasure in the world than this. I let out a guttural moan that has Cassian smirking from where he feasts on me, his eyes lighting up in male pride.

“Oh gods Cassian! How are you-ah!” I cry out feeling tears prick my eyes from the waves of euphoria gliding through my body, like every nerve was being caressed by his hands all at once.

“It’s your clit y/n,” Cassian smirks. “Surely all those naughty romance books taught you about your own anatomy?” he teases rubbing circles on the bud with his fingers.

“No I think they- Ah! They might’ve glazed over that part.” I cry out trying to keep my back from arching off the bed.

“Then allow me to enlighten you,” he grinned before feasting on me once more.

The feeling of his mouth on me had me reaching for something to grasp onto, something to ground me. Cassian must’ve noticed as seconds later I felt his rough hand grasp mine holding it tightly. His other drifted from my hip and I felt him sink a long finger into me slowly but surely. The new sensation had my heartrate picking up even more. It skyrocketed as he started pumping it in and out of me until he added another. The knot in my stomach started to build and I could feel my body pulling closer to the edge.

“Cassian I’m going to- OH GODS!”

I didn’t even have time to finish the sentence before I was falling over the edge, all over him. He rode me through my orgasm before pressing a kiss to my clit.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he says, voice deep and husky. If he had spoken to me like that in a setting where my clothes weren’t already on his bedroom floor I would’ve ripped them off just the same.

“I do?” I laugh, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah you do,” he smiles moving up towards me. “Come here,” he says, pressing his lips to mine.

I savor the taste of him and well, me. It’s new, and I can tell by the way his hand is ripping down his pants that he finds it just as arousing as I do. I glance down to where his aching cock springs free and it takes everything in me not to gasp at the size of it. His hand tilts my chin up to press another quick kiss to my lips.

“Forget what I said earlier. The second you want to stop, just say the word.” he tells me.

“No, I want this. I want you to be my first,” I assure him and I swear I feel his cock twitch against my thigh at my words.

“Okay I’m gonna put it in, if it hurts just tell me okay princess?” he says, pressing a kiss to my brow. I nearly shudder at him calling me princess again, but this time it’s different, it doesn’t feel like a title, it feels like a loving name.

“I will,” I nod to him.

I watch as he guides his cock to my entrance, getting it slick with the aftermath of the orgasm he just pulled from me. I feel him sink in a bit and I start to feel the stretch. I focus my eyes on Cassain’s face. His brow is furrowed as he watches himself start to sink into me. He pushes in further and the stretch starts to burn causing me to take in a sharp breath.

“Shhh baby,” he coos, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“Keep going Cass,” I breathe out as tears prick my eyes.

He pushes in further and somehow even the pain feels good, because it’s him. Every single inch of him is flush to me and it still isn’t enough. It takes a moment but eventually his hips are brushing up to mine and he’s fully seated inside me, and gods, the feeling of being so full is the best feeling I’ve ever known.

CASSIAN’S POV:

As my cock finally sinks into her it takes everything in me not to pull out and slam back in. I curse myself for even thinking such a thought knowing how badly I would hurt her.

All the while I give her time to adjust her pussy flexes and clenches around my cock and godsshe’s so fucking tight. Sweat coats my brow and my muscles quake with the need to start moving but I won’t do it until she asks me.

“Okay move Cass, I’m ready,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips.

Cass

Gods hearing her speak to me so informally shouldn’t make my heart beat so fast but it does.

I pull out a little before slowly pushing back in, relishing the feeling of how warm she is around me. I look down at her to look for any signs of discomfort on her face. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, and the little pants falling from those perfect lips are enough to send me into a coma. I begin to build a steady pace once I feel she can take it and as I do those little pants turn into cries and I swear I could cum right there.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” I groan into her neck.

She lets out another moan and I can’t help but smirk knowing what my words do to her. My eyes glance at her face as I fuck into her. Her hair sprawled out all over the pillows, her eyes closed, the look of pure pleasure on her face. I press my lips to hers unable to stop myself, not when I’ve dreamt of doing so for so long.

Fuck how many times have I dreamt of her writhing in pleasure beneath me? The feel of her delicate hands wandering my skin? My name falling from those perfect lips? I couldn’t stop the words from falling from my mouth.

“Gods I love you so much y/n,” I say pressing my forehead to hers.

“I love you too Cassian,” she breathes and I watch as another tear falls from her face. I bring my lips down to kiss it away, and in that moment I vow that I’ll kiss her tears away till they bury me in the ground.

Her pussy clenches around me again as I thrust into her and I can tell by the way her finger nails are digging into my shoulders that she’s close.

“Let go for me princess,” I murmur through ragged breaths pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“CASSIAN!” she screams cumming all over my cock.

It’s enough to drive me over the edge with her, “Fuck y/n,” I moan as I thrust into her one last time watching her beautiful face come undone for me before I cum inside her.

Snap.

My eyes go wide and I’m thankful that she’s still too blissed out to notice as I feel that thread inside me that connects me to her.

Mate.

All this time, she was my mate. The reason I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, the reason I couldn’t stay away from her. The princess was my mate. Her words from earlier continued to echo through my head…

Show me every part of you that feels unworthy of my love and let me kiss it until it knows nothing but it…

I searched her face for any sign that she felt the bond snap too, but all I saw was her beaming up at me. Gods she was so beautiful. My mate was so beautiful.

I reached for the other end of that shining golden thread and found nothing there.

She didn’t know.

Part 6

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 , @graceshifts, @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21, @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup, @dissociated-always, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @mybestfriendmademe, @anxious-study

#cassian acotar #cassian angst #cassian smut #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader smut #a court of thorns and roses #rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand fluff #rhysand angst #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand acotar #azriel x reader #acotar

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delicatebarness · 2 months

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i think he knows | chapter nine

Summary: As the sneaking continues, some secrets are revealed.

Warnings: Two perspectives are used. A few uses of Y/N. A lot of dialogue between multiple characters. Mentions/Implied Underage Sex. Our girlie is sad again.

Word Count: 1498

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A/N: I wrote this chapter while sitting in a van watching big sweaty men run around with guns (all I pictured all day was winter soldier) 🤤 I edited once I got home and had calmed myself down. 🙈

Bucky's words hung in the air, it prompted a sense of anticipation. You nodded as meeting his gaze, both curiosity and concern rushed through you.

"What is it?" you asked softly, as the gravity of his tone set in.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out to take your hand in his. "I know this isn't ideal," he started, looking down at your hand rather than into your eyes he began to rub circles against your skin.

"Us, um, sneaking around, keeping this hidden." You listened intently, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"But," he continued, his gaze found its way back to yours. "I also know that being with you is worth it." His vulnerability took you by surprise, warming your heart. "I want to make this work."

With a small smile, you squeezed his hand, silently giving him the reassurance he needed to tell you what was on his mind.

"What are we doing here?" Peter asked while looking up at the 'Stark's Motor's' sign above the rundown car and bike garage. "You know this is Tony Stark's family's business right? Tony Stark as in Bucky Barnes' friend?" Wanda had been curious about the tension between the two groups of friends, she sensed that it was deeper than simply, different personalities.

"Can I help you with something?" Tony asked as he looked Peter and Wanda up and down. They seemed familiar to him but he couldn't quite place them. Wanda looked around Tony, noticing the rest of the group gathered on sofas behind him.

Just as she expected, Bucky Barnes, for being the so-called 'leader' of the group, wasn't to be seen.

"We know about the bets," Wanda stated, gaining the attention of the whole group. The smirks that found their way to their faces proved to Wanda and Peter that the rumors were true. Concern for their friend became evident between them.

"What bets?" Natasha Romanoff questioned them, her tone guarded.

"When you bet each other on how far you can get with someone," Peter interjected before Wanda could, his voice rushed.

"What about them? You want in or something?" Loki, Peter recognized as the younger brother of Thor, questioned with a mischievous smile. He noticed that he was the only one of the gang who would ever show their face to the game.

"No," Wanda began to make her way around the service counter, moving closer to the group of friends. "We want you to tell us what our friend did to deserve being a part of your games," she demanded, standing her ground.

Natasha rolled her eyes before standing up, closing the distance between herself and Wanda in an attempt to intimidate her. "Who's your friend?" she asked curiously while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Y/N Rogers," Peter answered for Wanda, she was intensely looking up at Natasha with furrowed brows. "Steve Rogers' little sister." A silence surrounded the garage at the mention of Rogers.

"She's been on the off-limits list for, what, two years now?" Peter Quill spoke up while looking around the group of his friends. The worst 'bad boy' in the group had, barely got into any trouble, and wasn't mischievous; he just liked to tell jokes and wear a red leather jacket.

"What's the off-limits list?" They asked Quill simultaneously, snapping their heads in his direction. Catching the moment Stark punched him in the arm, he had said too much.

Sighing, Natasha seemingly began to relax more around the other students, going back to where she had previously been sitting. “The list of people we, under no circumstances, are allowed to bet on,” she explained, her voice still hinting at the annoyance the pair was causing. “She’s been on that list since her first day of freshman year?” she continued, looking around at her friends to confirm the amount of time. They all nodded in agreement.

“Too bad the same couldn’t have been said for her brother,” a sense of amusement in Stark’s voice as he spoke under his breath.

“Oh yeah, Natasha lost Buck some real cash on that one.” Quill laughed before taking a drink from the bottle he’d been nursing since Wanda and Peter arrived.

Wanda and Peter shot each other a glance, a silent conversation of understanding happening between them. As they exchanged the silent vow to uncover more, they turned about to the group, knowing they were diving into dangerous waters. Bucky and his friends were the most feared pack in the school, only Steve and his friends weren’t worried about getting on their bad side. Even then, a few of them still watched their backs.

“We need to know everything,” Wanda exclaimed, causing the group to bring their attention back to the younger peers.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, but there was a slight hint of respect for the girl. “You two don’t know when to quit, do you?” she muttered under her breath. Ignoring Natasha’s remark, the two friends stood their ground. Not moving until someone talked.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. Taking a deep breath, his heart pounded. “Back in freshman year, I… I made a bet with Natasha,” he admitted.

Your brow furrowed with confusion, “What kind of bet?” You asked, voice trembling slightly, you felt like you already knew the answer. Hearing it aloud, you feared it would make it real.

His gaze dropped from yours as he swallowed hard, “I bet that she couldn’t sleep with Steve,” he confessed, your hand dropped from him as your body went into a state of shock. Your mind went back to the night before, how he reassured you that you weren’t a part of it. You remember now that he never denied the fact that they do make bets. “I didn’t think she would do it, Y/N,” he looked up, his eyes filled with remorse as he called you by your name rather than his nickname for you.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over your heart pounding. “If you didn’t think she would, why did you?”

“We were freshmen, we were just having fun,” he sighed, trying to defend himself and the friends he saw as family. “He was an easy target back, a try-hard, it was supposed to be a joke,” he ran a hand through his hair, as he rushed his words.

The weight of his confession sank into your bones. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Disbelief surged through you, you couldn’t process everything at once. His reasoning only added to the turmoil swirling inside.

There was a silence settling between you, your breathing and the background noise for the diner was the only sound. The image of Steve, oblivious to the wager placed on him, added another layer of hurt.

You finally found your voice, it trembled as you held back tears. Not only were you hurting for your brother but, you couldn’t help shake the feeling that Bucky was lying about you. “How could you?” you questioned.

“I know I messed up,” Bucky’s voice softened, his hand reaching out as if to bridge the growing distance. “I mean, it’s most likely the main reason he wants me nowhere near you,” his words trailed off, and you turned away.

You looked everywhere but in Bucky’s direction, afraid of the tears threatening to spill. “I’m guessing she then discarded him like he never mattered?” you asked, recounting the warning Steve had given you about Bucky and his friends.

Another sigh from Bucky. “After everything, Steve caught feelings for her but it was just a game to her so she ignored him and has since,” he explained as he played with the straw in his milkshake glass. “It wasn’t until a couple of months later that he found out it was a bet, a bet that I started,” he began mumbling to himself about wishing he had a smoke or a drink before continuing. “We’ve never been okay since, which I understand on some level, but, he came out stronger I guess,” the confused look behind your teary eyes made his heart clench. “That was when he suddenly gained muscle and became the star athlete he is today.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, you struggled to hear it yourself as you tried to find the words.

Bucky nodded, he understood that telling you would have been painful. He saw the amount of compassion and empathy you carried in your heart, he knew it was risky for him to tell you the truth. He wished he could tell you, we fought once over nothing but stupid boy stuff, but, he couldn’t.

“I understand,” he replied softly, his head dropped landing his gaze on the table between you. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and Steve. I just, I don’t want there to be secrets between us as well.” Even though your heart ached for your brother and Bucky’s confession, you offered him a small nod.

- - -

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sakuraryomen01 · 6 months

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Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Reader/ .10

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, smut/nsfw, hook ups, sexual fantasies and masturbation

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 1.761k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n:: before u guys read i hope that y'all r doing well and that the beginning of this chapter isn't as traumatic as it seems (to me anyways lmao XD). my life is crazy, but i wanted to get this next chapter out asap!! i love u guys!!

. . .

Thank you for reading this! Enjoy!

. . .

“A-Ahh, fuck.. Shit~“

Dirty and whiny moaning, harsh slaps of skin on skin. The bed rocking hard, creating dents into the headboard, knocking against the wall. Nails dug into the skin of Sukuna’s biceps, his groaning and panting masked by the girl beneath him. Her cries louder than his ever were, the lewd mewls elicited from her throat as he continued to ram his cock deep into her cunny.

“Dammit, haa..” Sukuna’s brows pressed tighter together, his eyes glazing over as his edge neared. “Fuckk..”

The lady blushed, her gazed foggy but her cheeks flushed as she reached up to grab a hold of Sukuna’s face. Her fingers grazed the edges of his jawline as she squeezed harshly around his aching cock. He was so close.

“S-Sukuna.. I’m gonna cum again,” Her sultry voice echoed through his foggy head. The distraction he wanted to keep creating for himself wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping.

At this point, Sukuna didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Raise your damn ass, woman,” He said, his rough voice making the girl’s blush go from a slight heat to an almost feverish touch. Sukuna slipped himself from her heat– lifting her hips and flipped her onto her stomach– before slipping himself back into her warmth, beginning to feel his edge nearing, truly. “Fuck, ‘m close, girl.”

While Sukuna’s soft groans start to grow louder, even if only slightly, while the woman’s wails beneath him began to break. Her cries of pleasure and almost pain echoed with the bed’s creaking, only to be covered by the boom box downstairs and thirty other seniors and junior college students. The loud music, the booze, it was all a dangerous combo Sukuna had taken a liking to since attending this college.

Since seeing you, and the moment he was forced to have you as a tutor.

He wasn’t so used to the common hustle and bustle, but seeing you among it. Seeing how well you were already molded into the society of the city, it disturbed him deeply. He didn’t understand, nor did he want to know why. All he knew was that it upset him, and he wanted to beat you at whatever this sad game was. This heart-to-heart shit wasn’t in the cards, neither was that “promise” he made.

Sukuna was foolish when he was young, he didn’t want a broken heart.

He didn’t have a broken heart.

“Call me sometime, hunny?” The drunk girl he had just destroyed giggled, slipping her pink and lacy thong over her plush thighs, a droopy smile on her face. “This was really, really fun.”

Sukuna, who was busy with his thoughts and belt, didn’t take a second glance. He just fixed his leather jacket up and grabbed his shoes, unlocking the door and leaving the room. “Not interested.”

While the woman was left frazzled and somewhat hurt, Sukuna fixed up his shirt and slipped on his shoes, glancing around the hallways before heading to the main living area. Grabbing another drink from the table, he chugged it down quickly despite the numb stink he got from the weird mixes. He crushed the plastic cup and turned away from all the grinding women and men that were swaying to the music that was playing outside, heading to the door as his mind began to fog up.

It was like an addiction, to remove all worry and annoyance from his mind.

Taking a second look around the party room, he pulled a small box from his back pocket and headed outside. Getting a lighter from his other pocket, he opened the small box, and lifted a cig from it. Bringing the stick to his lips, Sukuna lights the end of it as he climbs into his truck and starts the engine. While he said very few words on the way back to his dorm, he was lost in thought.

Thinking about the last month, seeing you near daily.

Seeing that skittish smile, and your nervous glances towards him. Even just recently, seeing you straight from the shower, it brought a small warmth to his cheeks. Although he’s seen tits before, it was shameful that he was wondering often what was hidden under that damned towel. What was covered that he didn’t want to think about after so long.

He had thought at first that you were truly the most annoying thing on the face of the planet, but a very small and dark part of him thought you had grown well. That your looks were down right gorgeous and adorable at the same time.

You looked so soft, but toned. Eyes pretty but they didn’t sparkle as bright as any attention whore he crossed paths with. You were perfectly imperfect to him.

Poetic.. Gross.

Once parked and out of the car, Sukuna walked from the parking lot to the male’s dormitory. His eyes found themselves looking towards the girl’s area, tracing each darkened or lit window they came across. Unable to spot which one probably belonged to you, he took a breath of the cold night air and a puff from his cancer stick. Wondering if your dorm was still as messy as it seemed last time. If it still smelled like cum and perfume. If your gaming system was all sorted like you used to keep your books in the Stix.

The very thought of back then made him shiver and stiffen, pulling the now burned out end of the cigarette from his pinkish lips and pressing the lit end to a brick wall.

Tossing the bit over to the sidewalk, he stepped up to the building and headed to his dorn. Stepping passed the socks on knobs, the laughs of friends playing games in their rooms, the quiet murmurs and somewhat opened doors of people studying for their semi-finals and upcoming midterms. Sukuna passed them all to the third floor where his door sat at the very end of a quiet hallway, the silence almost too loud as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Taking one step inside and feeling a sense of slight dread. A sense that something inside him wanted to stir.

Whatever it was, he was going to have to do it by hand.

Closing the door, he went to shower before going to make a breakfast burrito that he had saved from that morning. There wasn’t much on TV other than some news that didn’t interest him, so he got finished with his dinner and ended up watching some of the cartoons that he, you, and Gojo had watched prior.

It didn’t matter if it made him kinda smile at the thought of you sitting on the floor with a blanket wrapped around your waist and thighs. It didn’t upset him to think about how cute you had grown up to be, that your features weren’t as bad as he wished they could. It was hard that he had to ignore this shitty clench of his chest and the throb in his pants.

Not a day in his life did Sukuna ever feel anything but rage or anger, but today, it was a feeling he despised. That he never wanted to feel again since his childhood, it was a stupid feeling he had squashed the second he left the Stix.

“..Fuck me,” He muttered to himself, letting his head rest back on the head of the couch. Pulling a blanket over his lap as Sukuna’s hand found its way underneath the cloth and rubbed at his crotch.

With very little effort, he could tell that he was rock hard. And even littler effort to free himself and start pumping his shaft, feeling all the pre that had collected in his pants. Sukuna lets out a groan, pressing his brows together as his mind wanders back to when he had walked in on you.

In my own room, you weirdo. At least you could’ve hung up a sock or some shit.

The cartoons continued to play, although the childish music and jokes on the screen didn’t make it to Sukuna’s ears. All he could think about was his new release, and about that damned towel. Wondering what would’ve happened if he had just snatched that rag and saw what was underneath for himself. Sukuna’s eyes lidded and his breath became ragged, thinking about what your tits felt like against his chest, wanting to grind his girth between them.

“Shit.. fuckk..”

The image of your small hips in his hands, letting him glide them over the fat or your ass until you yelped. Sukuna had wondered plenty about what your lips felt like against his, if you were a good or bad kisser. Whatever you were, he was willing to teach you.

Returning the favor right?

Imagining the feeling of your lips between his teeth as he tugged and nibbled, wanting to watch them slightly swell from the kisses and breathless moans.

Sukuna felt his tummy and thighs clench, wanting to savor his orgasm. His hand went faster, the sounds of his fist pumping and shaking as pre slipped through his fingers became louder. Completely drowning out the sounds of the TV, Sukuna’s face scrunched up and he grabbed at the blanket.

His imagination brought him to his bed, your body under his. Your face flushed red, hands against his chest as if to attempt to push him away.

“Ryo.. It's embarrassing!”

Sukuna smirked as his fist squeezed his shaft, groaning under the intense pleasure. Wondering what your whimpers and moans sounded like, if your pussy was tight enough to make him finish early.

The thought of what lay between your thighs sent a jolt up Sukuna's spine, a sudden urge to cum overcame him.

He pulled the blanket from over his cock and glanced down at his naughty member. Seeing it become an angry looking red, it made him upset. How could you of all people make him so hard?

Why was it you? Your soft looking lips, your huggable waist and chest? Why of everyone he's fucked, everyone he's come across it was you that toppled over all?

Whatever his mind wanted, he wished he didn't.

As he released all over his pants, even kicking at his coffee table from the powerful climax, Sukuna's heart wasn't fulfilled.

He could feel a ping of guilt in his chest.

He really, really shouldn't have done that.

Worst part about it all was that he was going to be seeing you in class again, after the third time he played with his cock to thoughts of you.

“..Really.. Fuck my life.”

. . .

a/n: finally got the chapter out guys!! I'll be quick on here since there's little to say but I hope y'all r doing good!!><

Chapter Song Theme:

— Varsity Fanclub - Zero [Lyrics] | 7Vibes Lyrics

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalflashlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us , @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-in-l0ve , @jiordeci, @opossum0-0, @gumisgirl, @mommasbigd, @heyitstacy

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anama-cara · 6 months

Text

Bargaining

dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Bargaining Masterlist

Summary: You try to bargain your virginity for your family’s safety. Word count: 1.8k

Warnings for full fic: 18 + mdni , Dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe p in v, mentions of STDs, pet names, dark, age gap, survivalism, I do Not condone this. Reader is in her early 20’s, Joel is in his 40’s. Reader’s inner thoughts are in italics. This is my first fic, please give feedback.

“Wait. I can give you something else. My virginity.”

He raises an eyebrow.

---

Joel Miller, the infamous raider, stands before you. He and his band of men control these parts, and they provide “protection” from clickers and other raiders in exchange for a monthly payment. Your household (its just you and your younger brother) usually give them a large basket full of vegetables. But this month something, maybe a gopher or a deer, tore up your garden, eating everything. You had nothing else to give. When Joel’s men had broken down your door you begged them, told them you’d give them double next month. They threatened to take your brother instead, put him to work. And then Joel strode through the front door, filing the doorway with his large form. He wore a red flannel, thick tan leather jacket, heavy boots and tight jeans with his knee cocked out and his hands on his hips.

“What’s taking so long in here? There trouble?” He asked his men. They nodded to you and Joel’s gaze shifted to you. An intense gaze, one that made your knees weak and your chin tremble. You swallowed and pulled yourself together.

“I’m sorry, an animal destroyed our crops. We can forage and plant again. I promise next month we will pay double.”

He shook his head sadly and your stomach dropped.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t go around making exceptions, even for someone as pretty as you.”

One of his men stepped forward and made to grab your brother’s arm. Pretty? Maybe there was another way.

“Wait. I am still a virgin. I’m unused. I have no diseases, which is good because out here if you get sick you could die,” you ramble, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“I’m clean. I’ve never been touched by a man. And I wouldn’t just be giving you sex, or safe sex, or my virginity, I’d be giving you a piece of me, my dignity, my identity, my soul.”

He grins wickedly at that so you plow ahead. He likes to have power, you can read it in his face, so you use it to your advantage.

“I’d be yours, claimed, forever marked by you, by my first time. Yours to ruin. Yours to torment, yours to degrade, yours to fuck, yours to fill. You can stretch me out and when your cum is dripping down my thighs and I am reduced to a sweating, sobbing, shaking mess on the floor - striped of my dignity and humanity, then you can proudly sit back and see your power. How you’ve ruined someone, claimed them, destroyed them, owned them.”

Damn you’re really trying to sell this. He has to take bait, you can’t let them take your brother.

You have his undivided attention, his eyes never left yours throughout your whole monologue. He seems surprised and a little impressed by your unexpected language. Now that you’ve said your piece, finished begging, he breaks eye contact. He shamelessly looks you up and down like he’s inspecting a horse to buy. He says nothing but gives one curt nod.

You loosen a sigh of relief. Your brother would be safe. You turned to face him, you had been standing a step in front of him, protecting him with your body. You knelt down and put a hand on his check. “Go upstairs, and don’t come down till I tell you. Okay?” You tell him softly. He nods silently and heads for the staircase in the corner of the room. You straighten up and turn to face Joel again. There’s something on his face, almost like a sad understanding as he watches your brother leave.

“Alright sweetheart, where do you wanna do this?” He asks gruffly in his thick Texan accent.

Oh god this is really happening.

“N-not upstairs.” Is all you manage to get out. Your mind seems to be going blank with the anxiety and shock of what’s about to happen. When you don’t move or say anything else he just nods and grabs your hand, pulling you from the main room where all his men remain, rifling through your things. He pulls you through a door and into the kitchen. He closes the door and pushes a chair underneath the doorknob, jamming it.

“Don’t want anyone interrupting us.” He smirks at your widened eyes. “You know sweetheart, you sure do have a filthy mouth. Saying all those things.” He’s shaking his head. He finally lets go of your hand to take a step back and look you over again greedily. Nothing soft remains in his eyes now. No, the only thing you see is a predator. His hungry eyes devour you. All the warning bells are going off in your head, every instinct telling you to kick him in the crotch and run. But you know you can’t, because although you know you could probably outrun this big guy, there are too many of them, and your brother is upstairs. So, you take a deep breath, loosen your fists and accept you fate. He notices the little movement. He notices everything.

“Ready sweetheart?”

You give a small nod, still unable to speak. You’re afraid of how small your voice will sound. You will not appear weak in front of him. You hold your chin higher and meet his stare.

The corner of his lips pull up in a wicked grin. “Good.”

And then he moves, and he’s so fast you don’t even know what’s happening until you’re pushed up against the kitchen island. With a broad hand he pushes you down and pins you between your shoulder blades. He’s got you bent over face down on the counter. Your breasts are pressed against the cold granite and your nipples harden against it. He presses into you from behind and you can feel his considerable bulge. With one boot he hooks your foot and slides it out, spreading your legs further for him. You hear the metal clanging as he undoes his belt and lowers his zipper. You don’t turn to look. There’s no need, you know he'll be big. With his cock freed he closes the gap between you, leaning further into you.

Shit. This will be painful.

He's even larger than you thought. You feel his hard cock behind you, pressing against your ass and the small of your back. His head tilts and you feel his hot breath on the curve of your neck. His lips glide over your shoulder. “So soft.” He inhales deeply, smelling your hair. “Mmmm.” With one hand he reaches up and grabs at your breast roughly. He can feel your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. He lets out a low growl and gropes you harder. You can feel his breathing getting faster. He reaches back down to pull your dress up above your ass. It bunches around you hips.

“Hold this sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. You obey, grabbing the bunched up fabric with one hand and bracing yourself on the counter with the other. He pulls back, and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. One hand moves to your hip, keeping you in place. With his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock he notches at your entrances and pushes in half way. White hot pain flashes through you. He’s so big and your body was not prepared for him. He pulls out almost all the way and pushes in again, all the way, hips snapping. Searing pain, he is splitting your insides apart. You hiss in pain.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t say this was gonna be nice for you. Remember this is your payment. Take it.”

He chuckles darkly and slams into you again. You shake your head.

No, no no no, it’s too much.

You can’t breathe. You feel a trickle of blood run down the inside of your thigh. Your hips dig into the countertop and you know there with be a line of bruising left on your skin. You’ll have bruising on the side of your hips too, his fingers are griping you so tightly.

“That’s a good little virgin. So fucking tight. Relax sweetheart. Don’t fight it.” He grunts. “I know your pussy will want it anyways.”

He sets up a rapid pace, slamming into you roughly with each thrust. It’s dry and painful and you hate it. Hate him. But after a few minutes when your body has adjusted you begin to loosen a bit. You still hate Joel, hate this man who runs these lands like he owns them. But you can’t deny that your body has stopped protesting. So you try to drown out the obscene sounds of skin slapping and his grunting behind you. You let your mind travel far away and forget that it is Joel behind you.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you feel a change behind you, the hot breaths on your shoulder blades are uneven and the pace is different, slower and deeper. He lets out a pained moan then pulls out of you, there’s a seconds pause then you feel hot liquid spill over you. It hits the small of your back in ropes and drips onto your ass. He sighs deeply from behind you. You finally turn to look at him. He’s staring your body, satisfaction on his face as he watches his cum drip down you. You whip your head back around before he can catch your eye.

There’s silence as he watches you and catches his breath. Finally, he reaches down and pulls your underwear back up. He takes the dress out of your grip and tugs it down. He runs his hands over your waist and ass, smoothing the fabric and feeling you up. One rests at the small of your back and presses the dress into the wetness there, letting to fabric soak it up and stick to you. He grins.

“Alright sweetheart.”

He gives your ass a smack then lets go of you. You push up and raise yourself off from the counter, resting on your elbows. He says nothing else as he moves to the door, unwedges the chair and opens the door. He looks back at you. You’re still leaning against the counter for support. He eyes your shaking legs, your ruffed up hair, your wrinkled wet dress. “See you next month.”

You’re in shock. That’s it? You don’t move as he leaves and whistles for his men to follow. You don’t move till you hear the front door slam behind them. Then you sink to the kitchen floor.

You don’t understand, Joel is infamous for being violent and cruel. You know that could have been much worse, that he could have beat you, that he could have passed you around to his men afterwards. But he just left. Suddenly you feel grateful. Then you silently curse yourself for it, reminding yourself that even though it could have been worse it was horrible that it ever happened in the first place. That someone threatened your family, that they took something from you. That they acted like they owned the place. You grit your teeth. No, the only thing you’re grateful for is the fact that it’s over. You stand on your shaky legs and reach for a kitchen towel. You call out for your brother, letting him know that they’re gone and he’s safe. You clean yourself up and you hear his little feet running down the stairs. He bursts into the room and flies at you in a hug. “Your big sis took care of it. I’ll always protect you remember. It’s okay. It’s over.” You pat his back and comfort him.

See you next month.

#raider!joel #raider!JoelMiller #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #dark!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #virgin!reader #virginity loss #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #dark joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller smut #raider!joel miller x fem!reader

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yngtort · 7 months

Text

Cheater cheater, best friend eater

NSFW ★

──────────

Xfem!reader You and jeongin had been best friends for years. He would do anything and everything to protect you. So when you call him drunk, crying your eyes out, he doesn’t hesitate to come to your rescue.

“Y/nnn, open up. I’m here.” He says as he knocks on the door of your apartment.

When you open the door, jeongin has to hold back a laugh at your clearly intoxicated state. Your eyes were blown out, while you subtly swayed as you stood. Dry tears littered your face, almost looking like a kid had taken chalk and went crazy.

“Hey,” you said, voice hoarse.

“Hurry up and let me in, it’s freezing.” Jeongin says, still stifling a laugh. He pushes his way into the apartment, locking the door behind him.

“How much have you had?” He asks before taking off his jacket his leather jacket, placing it on the back of the couch, and taking a seat.

You plop beside him. “not that much. Just two or three…bottles.”

“You’re joking, right?” Jeongin says in disbelief, looking at you almost like he was impressed. “What happened this time?”

A long sigh makes it passed your lips as you thought about how you ended up like this. Your boyfriend, Chris , had cheated on you after two years of dedication. You found out from changbin, a mutual friend of yours. He apologized for not telling you sooner and that he was tired of being an accomplice to Chris’s betrayal.

Go to him, you suppose.

But you didn’t cry because you were sad. it was just frustrating that you didn’t see the signs before hand. The relationship was already fizzling out— you and Chris argued every night. But for him to cheat on you, it was just insane. You hated being played, it’s the worst fucking feeling ever.

“Didn’t I tell you that he was a dick?” He clicked his tongue. “Your taste in men is deplorable.”

He’s right. You wish you could deny it, but the list of toxic men you’ve dated was extensive. That list also doubles as a list of how many jaws jeongin had broken.

“I’m just glad you’re done with him.” He said with a smile and you let out a nervous chuckle.

His smile dropped. “You are done with him, right?”

“Of course I am.. I just..” you scratched the back of your head, eyes darting around the room. “I haven’t actually broken up with him yet.”

“Excuse me?” He quirked an eyebrow. “The fuck do you mean you didn’t break up? Are you crazy?”

“I just don’t know how to bring it up.”

Jeongin scoffed, “oh but you can bring up ending our friendship over a pudding cup.”

“We were like 16-” “I don’t want to hear it.”

You rolled your eyes and sunk into the couch, wishing it would just swallow you whole.

“So what are you gonna do? Stay with him?” He asked.

“Of course not. I’m just-“ you paused.

“just being an idiot? Baby, I know.”

“Fuck you.”

Jeongin laughed, patting your knee. “Well until you figure out what you want to do, let’s pound some rum and coke. Yeah?”

—

A hour had gone past as you both sat there, passing a bottle a Hennessy back and forth. Shark boy and lava girl, collectively both of your favorite movie, played on the tv.

“Seriously, we shudda been them for Halloween.” Jeongin slurred, handing you the bottle.

“Next year.” You took a swig, slightly wincing at the wretched taste . “Fuck, I’m done. ‘Can’t keep drinkin this shit.”

Jeongin snickers, watching you set it down on the table. “Weak.” He taunted.

“Shut it, I’ve been drinkin all day. (Bc of Chris.) I hate men.” You grumbled, eyes narrowed.

Jeongin could tell how much this Chris incident was bothering you, although you barely showed it. he knew that you were probably blaming yourself, thinking you’re not good enough. But you more than enough, to him for sure. and he wanted you to know that.

Grinning, jeongin threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “know what? Just forget about these boys and just date me instead.”

You blinked, not knowing wether to take him seriously or not.

“ want us—Like me and you—” you pointed between the two of you. “To date?”

he was joking. He had to be. You’ve been best friends for practically your whole lives. Even when people tried to get yall together, not a single time did you ever consider it actually happening. And you were sure that jeongin felt the same way.

“I mean why not? I’d treat you better than any of your exes.” He said, eyes glancing down at your lips. “In more ways than one.”

He definitely didn’t feel the same way.

You felt the tips of your ears start to burn and you really hoped that it was because of the obsessive drinking. Jeongin seemed to notice and before you know it, his arm left your shoulder and slid to your waist.

“Jeongin,” “yes, baby?” He leaned in, free hand on your thigh.

oh.

“You’re drunk,” you place a hand on his chest trying to keep his body from moving any further. “You don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Then just blame it on the alcohol.” He chuckled. “I’ll take care of you for tonight and if you regret it in the morning, I’ll take full responsibility.”

—

If someone would’ve told yourself from a hour ago, that you’d be pressed down into the cushion of the couch by your best friend ; you wouldn’t have believed a word.

You wouldn’t be able fathom having jeongins head buried between your thighs as his tongue lapped over your clit with precision. Your hands tangled in his hair while you shamelessly rutted against his face.

You were a complete mess in your best friends hold and jeongin loved every second of it.

“So needy. Just look at you.” He said, planting kisses on your core. His member strained against his pants, begging to be set free. He had to focus on drawing soft circles on your hips, trying keep himself from flipping you over and pounding into you.

That’ll come later, but first he wanted to make you feel good on your own.

“Fuck— jeongin. ‘Mm so close,” You moaned out, head tossed over the arm of the couch as His tongue dipped in and out of you. you could feel your stomach tighten, orgasm creeping over until it bursts.

your body shakes violently as it rakes over you like a storm and jeongin has to hold you in place, still licking your clit as you cum. “S-stop it, inn. It’s too much.” You whimpered pathetically.

“shh, baby. Just a bit more” he whispered, still sucking you raw.

When he pulls his tongue off you, a string of saliva was the only connection between him and your core.

He moves up, bringing his lips to yours and you could taste yourself on his tongue. You could feel his length press against you, making you whine into the kiss.

You wanted him bad. Your fingers found their way to the waistband of his pants.

“Goddamn it, y/n” Jeongin pulled back with a hiss once he felt you free his member, taking it into your hand. “You’re so impenitent. want me to fill you up, yea?” He grunted, bucking his hips in your palm.

“Please,” You begged through a short breath. “Fuck, jeongin. Please, I need it.”

“Baby, it’s already in your hands. I’m sure you can figure it out. You’re such a smart girl.”

hearing him speak like that had an effect on you like no other. you were clenching around nothing, wondering if this was the same man you called your best friend. It was conflicting but it made you hornier than ever.

without hesitation, you positioned his member at your entrance.

“Good job, love.” Jeongin praised, planting a soft kiss and on your temple.

he slipped his tip inside, but to your surprise, didn’t go any further. Instead, he pumped his head in and out of your entrance, feeling it stretch and close around his dick. The constant teasing made you hyper aware of that certain spot. “Inn.” You whimpered, hands finding their way to hips. “Don’t play with me like this. Just fuck me.”

A wicked grin formed across his face as he got the reaction he wanted. “I’m sorry baby,” he chuckled, “ ‘just so fun seeing you clench and try to hold me in there.”

He grabbed your wrist, pinning them above your head.

“Forgive me, yeah?” He asked. Although he knew you’d never respond because you were to busy crying over his dick that he pushed inside you.

every inch of his girth was buried in your warmth.

He clicked his tongue, “Tight, you’re so fucking tight. Has Chris not been fucking you right??” He rasped into your ear, his hips starting a steady and sensual pace.

no, not like this. You had never been treated like this. Not by Chris— not by anyone. “If I had known, I would’ve done this sooner.”

His thrusts were strong and deep, dick brushing that spot that made your toes curl. The hand he held on Your stomach, pushing it, added that extra pressure that had you crying out his name. “you’re so good for me. Sucking me up so well.”

you continued on like that, your best friend fucking you dumb until you’re spluttering mess. Even when he flipped you onto your stomach— he didn’t miss a single beat. It felt like nothing could stop you two.

But when your phone goes off on the coffee table, there’s a pause. It was small interval, enough time for jeongin to reach over and grab it.

“Looks like that boyfriend of yours is missing you.” He pulled you up by your hair, back against his chest. “Lets answer it, hmm?”

Before you could even think about protesting, the phone was being pressed to your cheek as jeongin went back to fucking you from behind.

“Hey, babe. I’ve been trying to call you all day. Is the there something wrong?” Chris asks, but you could barely comprehend his words.

Jeongin pounded into you, hips slapping against yours and you know Chris can hear it. And if he can’t, he could definitely hear your cries. “Chris— ngh!”

“Y/n, what’s going on? Where are you?”

Jeogin chuckles from behind, pulling the phone back. “sorry, been really busy hasn’t she?” He asked bringing a mix of confusion and anger to the man on the other line.

“Who the fuck is this? Let me talk to y/n.”

“I would but,” Jeongin sucked in a breath, “she’s got her hands full.”

You didn’t know when their conversation ended or if jeongin had even hung up or not. you were too busy getting your back blown out.

“You must’ve liked the thought of him hearing you like that, huh? You were clenching so hard around me, I thought it would break off” He rasped, hips snapping wildly.

“Inn, inn, inn.” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes.

His hips stuttered, a telling sign that he was reaching his limit. Heat built in both of your stomachs, aching for relief. “Gonna fill you to the brim ‘n make you mine.” He whimpered, leaning down, nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. “Love you so much, Ugh.”

“Me too, inn.” You mewled, rocking in rhythm with his rut. That action in its self has jeogins dick twitching, his load following swiftly after.

He milked himself until his seed was spilling out of you with each pump. “Such a mess.” He whispered, sliding out of you.

Your poor couch.

The rest of the night was spent in the confines of your bed, both you and jeongin confessing some unsaid feelings— before sharing slow and wet kisses until you were eventually lulled to sleep.

#kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids x y/n #straykids x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin #smut #stray kids smut #yang jeongin smut

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inknopewetrust · 2 years

Text

Oh, Baby, it’s Halloween

Summary: you and Eddie raise a baby… only you’re not a couple and the baby isn’t real… and now Tina’s Halloween party changes the trajectory of your lives forever. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 10k] Warnings: language, discussion of drugs, idiots in love, you all have been too kind which makes me nervous to post this. Quick Links: Masterlist | Part One | Part Two

“What about this one?”

From the other end of the rack, Gareth held up a pair of pants high above his head. Eddie took in the look carefully before shaking his own.

“No holes, remember? I literally just said that like a second ago.”

Who knew picking out clothes for Halloween would be so hard?

“I don’t know why you even have to dress up. Most of the guys will just throw on a leather jacket and call it a day. Greasers from the fuckin’ Outsiders or some shit,” Gareth mumbled as he put the pants back in the lineup of the other hundred pairs on the rack.

Hawkins thrift had a hefty supply of men’s pants with and without holes because the rich and fortunate changed fashion quickly.

Small blessings for those living paycheck to paycheck.

“That’s practically what I wear every day,” Eddie sighed, sifting through the opposite end where a pair of Levi’s in vomit green disgusted him. “And I just have to look the part, alright? It’s one night.”

“Look the part,” his friend snorted, “you’re just trying to impress her. You could wear a potato sack and if she liked you in that, impressing her would be the least of your problems.”

“Is that so bad?” Eddie stopped browsing and stared down at Gareth.

“What? Trying to impress her?”

“Yes,” Eddie answered bluntly causing Gareth to breath in deeply.

To Gareth, no, it wasn’t a bad thing. High school was a zoo and for freaks like Eddie and himself everything was like walking in a glass cage. They were oddities; stickers on pristine windows that said ‘kick me’ and ‘dunce.’ He figured long ago that happiness was something not given or sought, but uncovered from personal discovery and self-preservation.

Eddie walked a tightrope.

One week ago he was assigned a partner that Gareth had passed in the hallway intermittently and thought, ‘oh, she’s cute,’ but Eddie never mentioned her. He didn’t talk about girls the way the jocks or preps talked about them; he didn’t ogle often at the cheerleaders in their little skirts because Eddie’s doctrine told him it was rude—even if he was as hormonal as the rest. He harbored those feelings like a scared little boy and now here he was, with Gareth in Hawkins’ only thrift store, trying to find the perfect pieces for a Halloween costume on a Thursday afternoon for one girl.

Gareth wanted Eddie to be happy. The curly-haired sophomore just didn’t trust people to not play a game with his best friend. He didn’t want to see the person he looked up to most be the laughing stock of high school because he fell head over heels for you.

“No,” he answered honestly, “it’s not a bad thing. I mean,” Gareth snorted, “if Katie Yang told me tomorrow she loved me, I would run off in the sunset with her and never return.”

Eddie barked a laugh. It would never happen. He was pretty sure his fellow senior member of Hellfire swung a very different way—but he couldn’t let Gareth’s dreams of marrying her falter. It would make Gareth too sad to even participate in Eddie’s campaigns.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie went back to searching, “she’s my Katie Yang.”

“How about these then?” Gareth held up another pair and for what Eddie needed them for, they were perfect. He left his spot at the end of the rack, snatching them from his friend's hands and grinned.

“Perfect.”

“Click got me with a pop quiz today,” Nancy whined as she leaned against your locker early Friday afternoon. She had her chin tucked against her chemistry textbook and trapper keeper.

“I don’t know anything about the War of 1812!”

“Does anyone know anything about the war of 1812?” You countered yet her disappointed face did not lift. Yes, some kids knew what had taken place but Nancy missed the lesson. She missed the lesson yesterday because all she was thinking about was how the relationship between herself and Steve was bullshit.

Bullshit. The exact word that you had used to describe it before Eddie swept you away.

“Linda Fischer did! And that Buckley girl that plays the trumpet? She knew all about it; answered nearly every question when it was over.”

“Maybe it’s because they have no life and just study all the time?”

Nancy scoffed, “I study all the time too and look where that got me.”

“It’s just one quiz, Nance,” you swapped your red calculus notebook for the blue history one. Bilbo was perched inside of your locker as you went about collecting your things for the next hour. “I don’t think your grade will suffer.”

Steve’s booming laughter echoed in the hallway.

“Doubt it,” Nancy muttered bitterly as the clang of lockers being hit sounded behind her. Steve smiled radiantly as he tossed a baseball in his hand—it was October, in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere Indiana, and he still managed to find and toss a baseball for fun.

“Doubt what?” He smacked his gum loudly as Nancy turned to copy the way he leaned against the lockers beside yours.

“Click’s pop quiz on the War of 1812,” you cut in before Nancy could. Everyone was required to take Junior American History and everyone remembered that pop quiz well… simply because everyone failed it.

“Oo,” Steve scrunched his nose, “Click is one haggard old broad, isn’t she?”

“The most haggard,” Nancy sighed. Steve peered over her shoulder and tipped his head at Bilbo.

“How’s the baby?”

“Baby is doing just fine, Steve. Just fine.”

“Yeah, mine too,” he winked as if what you said was a joke when it was far from it. Bilbo had mellowed out quite well, actually. It felt like a glitch in the system in many ways but the doll barely made a noise anymore. Two or three tantrums a day made life with Bilbo Munson-L/n a breeze.

“And Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? What’s he like as a partner?” Steve questioned, “you seem to get on well.”

“Why? Because I’m nice to him?”

“I’m nice to him!” He took your words defensively, “doesn’t mean he isn’t a freak.”

“He’s a good partner, great, even. And you are not nice to him. Last year, you and Tommy would shoot spitballs at Hellfire every day until Higgins told you to stop.”

“That was Tommy’s idea.” He still went along with it. The amusement Steve still felt from the prank made your stomach turn.

“Eddie’s actually trying. We’re doing rather well I’d like to think.”

“Tell that to Tammy and Greg when he didn’t do his project in O’Donnell’s last spring. He nearly cost them their own grades.”

“Well,” you gripped the door to your locker. As you did, your thumb grazed that picture of you and the boys as Star Wars characters a few Halloween’s back. “O’Donnell’s a bitch. She has it out for everyone.”

That’s exactly what Eddie had told you.

“Yeah, right,” Steve said in disbelief, “he put you up to this? Makin’ everyone believe he’s actually gonna graduate on time like the rest of us?”

“Steve,” you huffed. He was angry he wasn’t succeeding at project parenthood and you and Eddie were. The fact that he and Nancy had barely spoken two sentences to each other that entire week also increased his belligerence.

“We’re all managing the best we can. Eddie’s a good partner. It surprised me too but here we are, almost done, and he’s done nothing but stay true to his word.”

Well, mostly. You tried to forget about the school day on Wednesday.

“He giving you free weed or something to get him a good grade? I heard he’s gonna deal the party which means it’s only gonna be fun for an hour before everyone is high and annoying.”

“Hey,” Nancy narrowed her eyes at Steve, “why is everything a deal? If she says he’s a good partner, then he’s a good partner. End of story.”

“So, you’re defending Munson now too?” He rose his eyebrows high beneath his three strands of hair that fell onto his forehead. “Jesus… it’s the literal apocalypse. Apocalypse!”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Done with Steve’s antics, Nancy turned her body away from Steve and back to how she was originally standing. Inside, her mind was fighting every physical urge to apologize and revert back to her timid self of one year ago.

But she could feel the way your demeanor changed when Steve began cutting on Eddie. You were her friend—best friend—and Nancy Wheeler would be dammed if her boyfriend was going to make you feel that way.

Steve was growing. However, he was far from perfect.

“Nance, come on…” Steve complained as he rested his head on her shoulder. She ignored him the best she could at the moment.

“Are you going to the game tonight? Last one for the year,” football game. Nancy’s wide eyes were hopeful that she wouldn’t be stuck standing by a wild Steve and the popular kids she didn’t like.

“No,” you shook your head, grabbing Bilbo out of the locker and shutting it. “I’ve got Bilbo and I have to study for that Spanish test from last week when I get home.”

“You had Bilbo yesterday! What happened to Eddie doing his fair share?”

“He has Hellfire tonight and when we went through our plans, I told him I would take the doll when he had his club. He swapped Sunday so if you aren’t hungover from the party, we can get breakfast or something.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist, pulling her tightly against him as she breathed out heavily.

“Fine,” she grumbled, “but you’re picking up the tab.”

“You’re really going to study for a Spanish test on a Friday night?” Steve asked, brow quirked and judgmental.

“Tell me, Steve,” you shut your locker, “with Halloween and all of my other homework on Sunday, when would I have time to study for the test? Some of us do study and I know that might surprise you.”

“Ouch,” he winced, pouting as Nancy tried to wiggle from his grasp, “You’re being mean. I blame Munson. He’s corrupting you.”

“Blame away,” you began walking backwards from the two lovers as the clock ticked rapidly toward the end of passing period. “I rather like the person I’m turning into.”

“Have you thought about your costume yet?”

As you stepped out of Clay’s calculus class, Eddie snatched the homework (that the teacher had been passing out not a moment before) from your hands.

He had left Click’s history class five minutes early to catch you before Nancy drove you home. To make frivolous conversation, he asked about calculus and joked about you getting a tutor which left him burned when you told him he should get a tutor too—for all of his classes.

A few hours earlier, he had seen Nancy and Steve snug as a bug beside your locker as the hair’s arrogant attitude turned two faces sour. Eddie had observed it in passing; walking out of the lunchroom with the rest of the Hellfire members he shared it with only to pass your locker without you noticing because the two lovebirds held your attention.

The look on your face then was different than it was now. Relaxed, gratified. Another week was completed and Halloween was tomorrow.

“So…?” You waved a hand in front of his face. Eddie was staring into space; the kind where you don’t realize it because your thoughts are running either a million miles per second or not moving at all.

“Hm?” He asked, standing a bit straighter after realizing he hadn’t answered your question.

“Have you thought about your Halloween costume yet?” You questioned again as you slipped another notebook into your backpack.

“Got it yesterday, actually,” Eddie’s grin made your stomach flutter. He had that devilish smirk that made the football players angry as he stood on tables and jeered at their dull ignorance of being jocks.

“And it is what?”

“A surprise,” his eyes flicked to the pictures in your locker and this time, you caught him looking. Backing up a bit, the hand that wasn’t holding your backpack by its handle traced the edges of the pictures and plucked them off one by one from their spots.

“This one is from the Fourth of July last year,” you motioned for Eddie to take it and he did. “Nancy’s mom had us take all the kids to the fireworks at the fairgrounds.”

“Ah, the fireworks,” Eddie recalled, “pretty sure last year I graffitied Mayor Kline’s garage door the same time those were going on.”

“You didn’t,” you put the other picture in your hand up to your lips, hiding your mouth in bewilderment that he would openly admit to that. That shit made the news.

“Oh, but I did,” Eddie declared in a whispered excitement. The way he scrunched his nose at your disbelief made you beam from underneath the picture. “In big fat letters: if you repeat a lie enough, it becomes the truth.”

“In protest of Kline’s decision to build that mall? He was going to sell Forest Hill’s land, right?” You removed the picture from your mouth as the reality of his act of political artistic expression came to full realization. Eddie didn’t do things like that just to get a rise out of people. He did it because he hated the guy and without protest, who knew where he would be living at the moment.

“Yes, ma’am,” he held his chin out proudly, “saved the people of the trailer park. Local hero and all…” he boasted with a smile before handing back the first picture.

“So, you and Wheeler have been friends for a bit?”

“Since we were little,” you nodded your head and stuck that picture back onto the metal locker. Eddie took the second one you offered. “Our parents went to school together and I guess they’re not in the same tax bracket anymore but Karen Wheeler and my mom still get together every Sunday to talk shit about Nancy’s dad.”

“Not yours?” Eddie snickered.

“No,” you dropped your backpack on the ground and faced him fully, “my parents get along just fine. But these little dweebs,” you pointed your finger at the boys in the photo, “are the same ones from the car the other day.”

“This one,” he pointed to Mike, “is Wheeler’s brother.”

“Mike,” you gave him an ‘uh-huh,’ “and this here is Will Byers—who I don’t babysit,” you looked up at him, “and these two… these two are the worst offenders of them all.”

Eddie hardly doubted that. Two cheeky smiles hanging onto your shoulders as your arms wrapped around theirs. A curly haired Han Solo and a grinning Luke Skywalker.

“Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair. I’ve babysat them since I was like… eight.”

“You’re good with kids then?” He quirked a brow, genuinely asking.

Every second he could spend getting to know you better he grasped tightly.

“I guess,” he looked back at the picture and saw the joy on those kids faces. They were happy to be there; they were happy to be in your presence and he couldn’t blame them in the slightest. “It’s as good as a job as any but I don’t know if I’ll ever want my own. Maybe if the right circumstances present themselves I’ll change my mind.”

“But they’ve got nothing on Bilbo, right?”

“Oh, no,” you laughed and grabbed the picture back, “Bilbo runs circles around them. Doesn’t talk back, does his homework on time…”

“Are you going to bring Bilbo to Tina’s? Not really sure Sandra Dee would be seen carrying a baby.”

“My dad offered to make sure any tantrums would be dealt with. We are free to live our lives as childless parents,” you joked and Eddie imagined this Halloween but also a hundred more. “You can pick him up when you drop me off.”

Childless or not. A part of him couldn’t imagine it without you.

“You have,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes darting around the hallway before landing back to you, “you have really nice parents, by the way.”

“Thanks,” taken aback by his honesty, “I mean, I think they’re just like everyone else’s but yeah, I guess they’re nice.”

“Not everyone’s parents would have let me stay at their house all afternoon,” he shoved his hands into his jacket’s pockets and leaned against the lockers with a slouch. “Some of us drew the short straw in that department.”

Eddie never talked about his home life. You knew of Wayne because he worked at the plant with your dad, but no one ever really talked about it. In sixth grade, he was out for a week because his mom died. The teacher passed around a card for you all to sign yet no one said a word when he returned.

“Well,” you shrugged to pretend it wasn’t as heavy as it seemed, “the families we’re given don’t have to be the ones we choose. These kids,” you pointed to the picture you just put back, “are my family even if we don’t share any blood.”

“You know,” Eddie gazed at you with tender eyes that you wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t in tune with your own emotions. “You’re a little too smart for your own good.”

You laughed, grinning from ear to ear as you leaned down to grab your backpack again. “Not at math, though.”

“No,” Eddie shook his head. He ducked his head, feeling the heat creep onto his neck until it found its way on his cheeks. His hair hid what you couldn’t see. You grabbed your science textbook and Bilbo before closing your locker. When he willed the tint away, he watched the way you adjusted the bag on your shoulders with one hand as you held Bilbo in the other.

“I guess not math.”

“I’d rather have the emotional intelligence anyway,” tossing your head in the direction of the door, Eddie animatedly sprung himself from the lockers and back into the emptying hallway. Two cheerleaders nearly ran into him and he lifted his arms like he had been caught for murder.

Emotional intelligence. If you had stronger, clearer emotional intelligence you would have taken the initiative to ask Eddie out. You would have realized your crush on him was firm and unyielding enough to warrant an actual date.

But the “not date, date” of Tina’s Halloween party loitered between the two of you. Neither had mentioned the “not date” besides the costumes you were going to wear that wouldn’t match.

As you navigated the halls together to exit the building, Eddie walked beside you and every so often, his arm would brush yours. Not on accident.

“Dustin and those kids, they’re in middle school?”

“Eighth graders…” just the thought that next fall they’d be in high school made you feel really old. “They’ll be coming here next year.”

“I’ll have to tell Gareth about them,” he said, “maybe when I’m gone he can recruit them for Hellfire.”

“You gonna graduate on time, Munson?” You smiled, knocking your shoulder into the arm that kept grazing you. As dramatically as Eddie could, he stumbled and rubbed his arm like it hurt.

“That’s offensive, you know that?” He feigned insult. “If I don’t, I’ll just welcome them myself. The lost sheepies are the ones that are easiest to catch.”

“Lost sheepies,” you repeated softly. Eddie pattered his way back beside you.

“They’d probably like you a lot,” you told him when he returned. “Will would take a minute to warm up to you but I think Dustin would cling to you. He likes the… weird ones.”

“First I’m not gonna graduate on time and now I’m weird?” Eddie threw his head back. “You’re killin’ me today with this defamation.”

Defamation. ‘Where the hell did that come from,’ Eddie thought to himself.

“I don’t think you being weird is a bad thing, Eddie,” Eddie. Not Munson or anything else. It was something he’d never tire of hearing. “You just embrace it. Weird is cool—even if Billy or Tammy or Carol don’t think so.”

“You’re pretty weird yourself, mama.”

The end of the hallway was quickly approaching and Eddie jogged forward, opening the door for you and holding open.

“Thanks,” you told him, “for both the… compliment and the door.”

“It’s what fellow weirdos do for each other,” at the end of the walkway, Eddie realized he was going in one direction and you the other.

The end of Friday had been reached. Only the Halloween party was left.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?” He asked as if the answer wasn’t clear. You nodded, head giving an enthusiastic bob you’d be thinking over later.

“How will I know what to look for if you don’t tell me what your going as?” You shouted as he walked toward his van. There wasn’t a part of you that cared what other people thought anymore.

Carol and Billy get fucked. There was only one life you’d remember and you’d be dammed if Eddie wasn’t a part of it in some way.

“Don’t worry, mama,” he turned around and kept walking backwards. A smirk playing on lips like it always belonged there. “You’ll recognize me.”

“Okay,” Nancy came trotting back into her room from her mother’s closet, “here,” she tossed a small red scarf into your lap as you sat on her bed.

“What’s this?”

“The ascot I said I’d give you,” she said like it was obvious. Nancy fiddled with the black tie on her shirt in the mirror above her dresser.

“Nance,” you called over to her, catching her eyes, “have you ever seen Grease?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then you’d know that Sandy doesn’t wear an ascot… just red shoes.”

“No,” she objected, “she definitely wears an ascot.”

“Tell that to Olivia Newton-John,” you got up from the bed and went straight to her closet, pulling it open to reveal a small stack of VHS tapes at the bottom. Grease was the fifth one down and on the back, Danny and Sandy at the senior carnival fun house was plastered on the back.

You handed it to her on unsteady legs as the red heels you wore were beginning to become unforgiving. One night, just one night.

“See,” you told her, “no ascot.”

“I swear to God she had one,” Nancy looked in wonder before handing it back to you. “But you’ve got the shirt and leggings and belt. That’s good enough.”

“No jacket though,” you sat back down on her bed.

“Maybe there’s a reason you couldn’t find it,” she giggled to herself like a schoolgirl.

“Oh, yeah?” You questioned. All this dancing around… you didn’t want Monday to arrive and end with Eddie never speaking to you again. Wishing upon a shooting star, whatever confidence you could muster tonight would have to manifest itself into reality.

Project Parenthood was not going to end on your watch without you asking Eddie Munson out on a date.

That was what you came to terms with Friday night.

You just hoped he didn’t think you a fool for believing he might actually say yes. You also didn’t take Eddie to be the kind of guy who’d be embarrassed that a girl asked him out. What if he wanted someone to be forward? What if he liked confidence and strife over classic gender roles being challenged?

The guy was as non-conformist as a person could get.

“Well, maybe Billy Hargrove would lend me his,” you joked and she dropped the tube of mascara she had just picked up back on the dresser.

“Billy Hargrove?” She spoke in a harsh whisper as her hand searched for it again. “What the hell—“

Nancy took one look at you and saw the mischief all over your face. It was a joke. You were joking. You wouldn’t let Billy Hargrove touch you with a ten foot pole.

“I think if Eddie Munson heard you say that he would keel over.”

“I think if Eddie Munson heard I had a big fat crush on him he’d keel over.”

Nancy thought it was nice to hear you admit that.

“Die from excitement or die from embarrassment?” Nancy laughed as you fell back against the bed. Her pillows sounded a “poof” as you laid against them.

“Hopefully not that latter.”

“I don’t think he would die from embarrassment… if my opinion means anything,” she returned the wand to the tube before sitting down beside your reclined figure on the bed. Nancy took your hand in hers and squeezed it.

“Eddie is the strangest, weirdest person I think I’ve ever laid eyes on but if he can make you happy, then that’s all I want for you.”

“Even after what I said about you and Steve the other day? You still want me to be the one to ride off into a sunset?”

Nancy shrugged, looking down at your hands entwined. “Sometimes the truth is hard to swallow. Maybe Steve just isn’t the one.”

“But he’s the Joel to your Lana.”

“Tonight, yeah,” she sighed, patting your hands with her free one, “but the bullshit has to stop. I just don’t know how to tell him.”

“Nance,” you fidgeted your hand out of hers and sat up on your elbows. Nancy’s room full of cream colors and pinks was juvenile while her experiences and feelings were far from it.

“It’s true though, isn’t it? It’s been two years and sometimes I feel like I don’t know him at all. Where his mind is at, concerns… I try and get him to open up but he just won’t. How am I supposed to be a good girlfriend when all he wants to do is party and hang with friends on the weekend?”

“This has to be your decision,” you told her candidly, “and perhaps after tonight you’ll feel differently.”

“We still on for breakfast tomorrow?” Nancy got up from the bed and went back to her dresser. “That way I can tell you all about it because Eddie’s taking you home.”

“Yeah, we’re still on.”

“And then you can tell me all about how Eddie is actually, surprisingly, a good kisser,” she laughed as you stuffed your head into her pillows.

“You really sound like Barb; you know that?”

“No, no,” Nancy shook her head, putting up a finger in the mirror, “Barb would say, ‘you really think Eddie Munson would be a good boyfriend? Don’t you remember when he hotboxed weed in his van at lunch last year and Chief Hopper had to tape off the parking spot because little kids were accidentally given a second-hand high?’ That’s what she’d say.”

“And then she’d ask if he made it to second base,” you grinned, turning over to stare at her ceiling. “Only to be followed with a very loud ‘eww, I can’t believe you did that!”

“I miss her,” Nancy said fondly, “she wasn’t the biggest fan of Steve but she’d want me to be happy. She’d want you to be happy to so,” she gave you that knowing look, “you’re gonna put on some red lipstick and drink a couple beers and by the time Eddie Munson knows what’s hit him, he’ll be so in love no other girl could compare.”

Overwhelming.

That was the first word that popped into your mind when you thought of the scene around you. It was nine-thirty, there were cars parked sloppily on the grass and students scattered everywhere. The music was blasting from Tina’s stereo so loudly it might burst your eardrum by the time the night is over and it helped none that the one thing you wanted to find was missing—somewhere in the house or the yards but not beside you.

Third wheeling with Steve and Nancy wasn’t fun when they argued on the ride over.

You sat in the back of Steve’s BMW wishing to be sucked into the seat only to never be seen again. Nancy’s attitude shifted from excited to upset and Steve was just being an asshole about the whole “parties are fun and we’re going to stay the entire time” conversation that started the argument. Those feelings lingered when the car parked, when the three of you made it inside, and then when you found yourself stuffed into a corner beside a curio cabinet.

“Oh, God,” Nancy mumbled when Billy Hargrove—alongside Tommy Hagen and the rest of the goons who couldn’t separate themselves from the freshest meat—clocked the three of you standing away from the entry way’s makeshift dance floor. “Don’t start anything,” she told Steve who looked in the direction she stared.

Besides the crushing weight of the party on your shoulders, stepping out of your comfort zone in a Halloween costume that Nancy picked out for you made your hands shake with tension. The confident thoughts of earlier running out of your mind the second everyone started looking at you like a fish out of water. A couple guys whistled, the girls judged. There was no happy medium at a place like this.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington,” Tommy gloated as Billy challenged Steve. He pulled off his sunglasses and Nancy turned around to you.

“Let’s go get a drink, yeah?” She asked with pleading eyes. You glanced at the group of hot-shot boys—their gazes watching you and Nancy like pieces of meat for taking and it made your skin crawl.

“Yeah,” you let Nancy hook her pinky through yours as the two of you trekked past groups of your peers quickly getting drunk and eating scattered snacks in the kitchen. A couple, whom you didn’t know, were swapping tongues beside the stove.

On the counter beside open bottles of booze, a bowl fitted with dry ice and a ruby liquid sat being consumed by a boy in a toga. He chugged a red cup down before filling another one and doing the same. That was ‘pure fuel’ or the one drink that could send anyone to that drunken bliss with so much as a sip. Nancy peered into it like a mysterious lake.

“Do you want any?” She picked up two red solo cups, offering up one for you but you looked around for the fridge instead. Behind you, next to the two making out, the fridge was left cracked open.

“No,” you walked the small space to the fridge and grabbed a cold can of Pabst Blue Ribbon out of it. It was a party; Tina was going to buy the cheapest beer she could. “And I wouldn’t suggest you drink a ton of that either.”

“Why?” Nancy contested, swiping the cup into the bowl. “Aren’t we supposed to have fun? Get drunk and make stupid mistakes while we’re young? Just be stupid teenagers for one night.”

She was still pissed off at Steve.

“If you’re going to drink that,” you cracked open the can in relief when one of your nails didn’t break, “try to know your limit, alright? I don’t want to babysit you over the toilet later.”

“Deal,” she chugged the cup over the bowl as Steve rejoined the two of you. He began protesting her actions immediately and she replied by using his words against him—the same ones he used to argue to stay at the party. Nancy filled her cup again, slammed it, and wiped the excess of her face before leaving the two of you in the dust.

“You say somethin’ to her?” Steve turned to you with an accusatory glare. “She’s been weird all week.”

“She’s been weird or you’ve been ignoring her?” You countered unexpectedly.

“I haven’t been ignoring her.”

“I’ve seen you with Tammy Thompson more times than I can count this week and every day when Nance takes me home, you don’t kiss her goodbye.”

“We’re partners, remember?” Steve scoffed. “You should know that more than anyone. Where is the freak anyway? I can smell the weed; I know he’s here yet he’s not with you…” He was mad too. Steve and Nancy both angry at each other made everyone else in their paths feel the scorching ire of their pain.

“He’s not my date, Steve… He’s my partner, remember?”

Rolling your eyes, you brushed past him and left him in the kitchen alone. A quick escape through the door that led to the backyard let the cool breeze meet your face and the sting of Steve’s words fell from you. It was a rather nice October night. It was just cold enough where jackets could be enjoyed but the Midwestern urge to remain strong in the breeze left many without one. There was a bonfire raging in the back and friend groups scattered on the lawn.

Katie Yang was sitting around the bonfire when her eyes caught the door to Tina’s house open and close.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull—not from the smell of weed surrounding her, but from the fact that Eddie hadn’t been lying.

An hour ago, Eddie rolled up to Tina’s with a backpack full of drugs yet that wasn’t what everyone talked about as the fast murmured rumors made their way through crowds of students like tidal wave. With the three other members of Hellfire that had been invited because they were seniors, the whispers surrounded them first before someone had the will to approach them.

“Shit,” She didn’t know their name, “did you hear about Munson?”

“What about him?” Katie asked them and they threw their head back, hair going a wild as they screeched.

“He’s dressed as fucking Danny Zuko! And not the cool one!”

“Danny Zuko…” Katie trailed off, furrowing her brows as she tried to place the name. “From Grease?”

Eddie was musical, yes, but he didn’t like a ton of musicals.

“You’re joking,” one of the members of Hellfire said before moving through the living room crowd and peeking out through the blinds of the closest window.

“Holy fucking shit!”

He stuck out like a sore thumb. He was wearing the classic all black, tight jeans with a white cardigan sweater embossed with a red ‘R’ sewed into the side. Eddie’s hair was pulled into a ponytail and while he didn’t wear the look often, some of the drunk girls in the yard were ogling him like they’d jump his bones in an instant. When he came inside, the students gawked before realizing their weed had arrived and while they jested with Eddie, their words didn’t hit him. Katie could see the way their words brushed off his shoulder and he kept looking at the door.

So, an hour after that she saw you walk out of Tina’s house dressed as Sandy, Katie had to bite back the first remark that came to mind. She picked a couple blades of grass off the ground as Eddie rolled papers next to her on a tree stump—the glow from the bonfire lighting his work.

“Why’d you decide to go as Danny?” Katie proposed, watching you lean against one of the columns and drink the rancid PBR like it was water.

“Why not?” Eddie replied but focused solely on the ratio of weed to paper in his lap. Every time he put a rolled one down next to him, someone would swipe it, light it, and disappear before he could complain.

“Didn’t take you for a man who’d grovel for a lady, that’s all.”

“I don’t grovel, Yang,” he quipped and she smiled, folding her arms over her bent legs and laying her head on it.

“Besides, you see me crawling now?” Eddie motioned to the papers in his lap. “Little miss Mary Jane is the priority right now.”

“You sure about that?”

Eddie heard the way she crooned, her eyes flicking from his own to the house. His heart skipped a beat. The knowledge that if he looked now, he’d see you there—perhaps not even looking in his direction—but available for him to admire for a time. Since the moment you told him you were going as Sandy, he dreamt, daydreamed, about what you’d look like. How the vision he conjured was nothing compared to the way you’d embrace every part of yourself in an outfit like that.

“I can roll, if you want,” Katie suggested as he contemplated throwing the weed on the ground and forgetting all about it. He did admit once that he’d consider going sober for you. Before he could even object, she took the baggie from beside him and put a hand out for the papers.

“Gareth told me all about it,” she admitted. Eddie couldn’t even be mad. “Go get that girl, Munson. It’s not every day your dreams come true.”

All he could muster was a tight smile for her.

There were a lot of people in the yard. Every face blurred the brighter the fire got; some littered in the grass, others standing, a few on stools or stumps. Your feet were aching as you gripped the banister to relieve the pressure. A half drank PBR clutched in one hand as you stared down at your feet. Eddie sauntered over to the house as you shifted your feet. His quiet steps against the grass not alerting you that he had been sitting in the backyard at all.

Eddie planted himself a foot away from the deck in front of you, swallowing his fears and trying to embody the voice of surprise that mimicked the exact moment in the movie. A little accent, a little bit of the ‘ol greaser swagger.

Just a guy, seeing a girl, and absolutely smitten in the way in which she looks.

“Mama!?”

And only Eddie could get that smile to creep onto your face.

The not date, date was simple.

It had taken you an entire hour to find Eddie on a property no bigger than the Wheeler’s and the moment you heard his ‘surprised’ voice, you knew the evening had changed for the better. For two hours, you sat beside one another and just talked. He talked about his hobbies and joked about his nerdy interests while you detailed your own and he listened as intently as you had for his. In his stupid letterman cardigan and his stupid ponytailed hair, Eddie sat beside you on the deck—backs against the railing as you sat on the wood floor—and admitted that he hadn’t ever planned to wear a costume in the first place.

“So,” you knocked your heeled foot against his converse, “where in the world did you manage to find that sweater?”

“This old thing?” He pulled at the lapels, “I have a bunch of them in my closest. What? You’ve never seen me wear these before?” He lived for the giggle that left your lips. Painted in a candy red, it was hard not to look right at them.

“Oh, yeah,” you faked support for his lie, “all the time, Eddie. It’s your best look obviously.”

“That’s what I said!” Eddie cackled, drawing a can of beer to his lips. “Gareth helped me. His sister used to watch Grease all the time so he had a pretty good idea of what I was looking for.”

“I’ll have to thank him then,” you moved your hands to sit in your lap, fingernails making a small clicking sound as they met before looking over at him.

“Why?”

You leaned your head in as he would have done. “Because he helped you pick out those jeans.”

For a second, Eddie was stunned silent. His lip quirked, eyes sparkling and wide with utter fascination that you had just explicitly flirted with him when he had been planning to make all the moves on Halloween. It was his moment; his situation that he grasped tightly and ran with because if it wasn’t him, he felt it would slip through his fingers.

But you had just given him hope that his feelings may have not been one sided. That your kindness and acceptance of him wasn’t misplaced in pity but instead in attraction.

“Well,” he said lowly, “then I guess I have to thank Wheeler then, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because she told you to dress like this and I think you just walked out of a fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

The surge of butterflies hit your confidence like the wolf blowing down the house made of sticks—wavering for a second before standing tall again. Eddie had a blush dusting his cheeks yet he didn’t hide from you; a tightrope growing thicker for every word shared, every sentiment revealed and accepted.

“I guess I should dress like this all the time?”

Eddie nudged you playfully, appreciating that you reciprocated it and swayed back toward him. “I think I like the way you dress everyday a little bit more.”

“Yeah, me too. Kinda miss those rings… you're not ‘Eddie’ without them. Or the vest, leather jacket… any of it.”

He looked down at his ringless hands only to agree. There was a nakedness to his appearance without them. He had his necklace, but no bracelet, no rings, no chain, no handcuff belt, and it felt different even if it was just a costume.

“I am surprised you chose this Danny to dress up as.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “I guess it’s ironic for me too.”

“Ironic?” He questioned. “How?”

“When Danny and Sandy realize they like each other,” you spoke carefully to find the right words. From the time you’ve spent with Eddie over the last week and two days, he listened to everything. He remembered much more than he let on and he read people, their emotions, and their words with caution; “they change themselves only to fall back to who they were because no one has to change to be loved.”

“Do you remember when I said you were too smart for your own good?”

You laughed, glancing at him for a second too long before biting your lip. “You don’t have to stop being ‘Eddie’ for people to like you. I’m more than content with Eddie Munson “rockstar” than I am Eddie Munson “letterman Danny Zuko.”

“Wow,” he said, drawing out the word slowly, “did the girl next door just say she liked me?”

Only Eddie would joke about it. And only Eddie could make you feel good about admitting it.

“Well,” he said when he let the thought process through him, “you should know that you don’t have to be “hot girl Sandy” for me to like you either. I am more than content with “head in a book” and “Bilbo’s mama” than I am “leather bound in red heels.” And as he did whenever he wanted to invade your personal space more than sitting close, he leaned in, down to your ear, “but before you run off and never wear this again, indulge me?”

You turned your head at his words. He was so close. The smell of his cologne mixed with two cans of beer, one joint, and three cigarettes right beside you—arms touching, head barely two inches from yours. If this was a fantasy and he had begun the conversation two hours before with one of the most iconic lines from the film, all you would have to do is embody her like Nancy had told you and reply in kind.

Eddie could see the cogs turning in your head. Thoughts on how to go about it racking every part.

“Come on,” he leaned back, scrambling to his feet so quickly he almost knocked over his can. Eddie extended a hand, helping you stand before leading you back to the closest end of the deck. He let go of your hand and held them out in front of him as if telling you to stay before backing away.

“Okay, wait, wait, wait!” Eddie dug into the pocket of his white sweater and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one from the pack, he held it up as an offering with enthusiastic eyes.

“Trust me, alright?”

You nodded, hands laid out along the railing of the deck on either side. The temptation was biting at him; the way you were effortlessly drawing him in. Closer and closer until he couldn’t breathe because he was so consumed by you that all he needed was one… little… taste.

He lifted his hand toward his face, showing you what he wanted. Eddie had the unlit cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers, pulling it away from his lips untouched.

“Open your mouth a little bit,” he said and watched as you followed his direction with no complaint.

Eddie stepped closer, hand going over your right arm that was outstretched to lift the cigarette toward your lips and inching the filter forward. You watched his eyes drift down, taking in the way your lips looked so different yet all the same coated in that red lipstick.

“You ever smoke before?” He asked lowly; voice an airless buzz against your face.

“Once or twice,” you admitted and he nodded, hair pulled back in a ponytail by a black scrunchie you could barely see. The sounds of Bon Jovi’s Runaway playing loudly around you.

“Then indulge me in this,” he replied as he let the filter land between your lips and let his fingers go. The cigarette teetered there between the red as they held it; Eddie not pulling back as he dug into his pocket again and pulled out a lighter.

“Still alright?”

You hummed around the stick and his knees nearly buckled at the sound. But he had to keep his cool. Eddie had to be suave; Eddie had to be tempting.

His thumb sparked the fire and it burned bright between you. The reflection of the blaze shining in both of your eyes and captivating, if only for a moment, the seconds before the brink.

Eddie held the flame to the other end and when it lit, he backed away quickly. He bit down on his lower lip, nodding for you to do it and briefly, you felt a little ridiculous as the scattered students of Hawkins high disappeared around you. Their presence not important compared to the one dressed as letterman Danny Zuko.

The butt sizzled and flashed its angry red. You had yet to breathe it in. Eyes watching his every gesture as he stood there, waiting expectantly for you to make the move. He made his, you make yours, and then he would have to go again. A game of chess with two idiots in love.

Your demeanor changed when you breathed in the stick for the first time. Once or twice his ass, Eddie thought as you didn’t even lift your hands off the railings to grab it away from your lips—just held it there between them as the smoke escaped from the sides.

‘If he can make you happy, then that’s all I want for you,’ Nancy’s admission playing loudly in your head that balanced the rapid thumping of your heart.

If you hadn’t known Eddie held a candle for you before, the way he was looking at you now was enough. If his admission wasn’t enough, his eyes were. Utterly captivated by the way you stood—confident and seductive. Hip slightly jutted out, your heeled feet helped bend one leg and the image was perfect. Seared into his brain forever as the moment he realized that you were the one in his dreams.

A fantasy where he was the strapping Aragorn—a hero, courageous and strong, with his Arwen—timeless and headstrong, kind and forgiving.

Your eyes broke away from his stare and out to the yard. The cigarette’s smoke left your lips again. Eddie rose both of his hands into a prayer position; fingers meeting and resting against his lips right under his nose. The anticipation was killing him.

In an instant, your eyes returned and what he saw sent him to an early grave. He met his maker and was cast away like Icarus as you adjusted the way your posture presented you from the top of your head, out your fingers, and through your toes.

Sandy to Frenchie to Rizzo be dammed. You embodied something greater than them all and he was lucky enough to be at the receiving end of it.

And then you said it.

You indulged him in a fantasy he didn’t even know he had until you told him what you were going as.

“Tell me about it,” manicured fingers took the cigarette away from your lips and the smoke billowed into the night, “stud.”

And like Sandy does in the film, you dropped the cigarette and put it out with your shoe, arms going back to the decks railing and looking back at Eddie. Checkmate.

However, Eddie couldn’t have you get the checkmate. He couldn’t have you be the one to end up on top when he had been planning this for days. Since the moment he shrieked outside of Gareth’s window that he had a crush on you—fully formed and not a silly grade school one that made him want to tug pigtails and call you names. Eddie shook his head, dropping his hands from their position and drew close. He caged you into that spot and with the permission in your eyes, one of his hands grazed your side.

A brush of knuckles along the fabric of your shirt, belt, then pants, before his palm became certain. Running along the same track his knuckles had just traced before settling on your waist.

“Indulge me one more thing,” Eddie’s breath barely hitched when you rested one hand on the arm he had around you and the other gripped his sweater. He took his other hand and rested it on your jaw, thumb caressing a spot as his fingers gingerly held your head.

“Let me take you out. On a real date where I can bring you flowers,” he smiled the same time you did, “and your dad can tell me to have you home by nine but I’ll have you back at nine-o-five because I can’t stop kissing you in my shitty van.”

You pulled him closer, hand clutching his sweater tightly to keep him to you. “You beat me to it.”

“Yeah, mama?” He smiled, eyes consistently trained on your red lips. “You gonna ask me out?”

“I can’t,” you could barely function with the way your heart leapt, “I’ve already got a date.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Yes and are you gonna kiss me, Munson? I don’t think I can—“

Eddie didn’t let you finish. He pressed his lips to yours and you accepted them eagerly. His gentle touch a haven as the deal was sealed. Your hand that rested on his forearm moved to his hair, tugging out the scrunchie because if you were going to kiss Eddie, all of him had to be part of it. He reveled the feeling of your fingers weaving into his hair; lips threatening to grin as he got his girl and you got your boy. Nervousness subsiding, all that was left was the tenderness of being two people in love.

No longer two idiots in love; no longer two fake parenting partners.

But a pair fit like two puzzle pieces made for one another.

And when Mr. Allen collected the dolls on Monday, he revealed that each had a floppy disk inside their plush bodies that recorded the number of tantrums and minutes passed between them until soothed. As it turned out, you and Eddie had the best times in the class and in all of Mr. Allen’s years of teaching, Eddie Munson was the first one to prove him wrong. The ‘A’ on top of his assignment sheet at the end of that week became his most important achievement at the time.

Not because he managed to care for a fake baby, but because in the end, he walked out of the class hand and hand with you knowing that everything—no matter what would happen in his life—would be okay.

[Mario Bonus Round Sound: Oh, Baby, it’s Real]

The early morning sunlight trickled into the room from the breaks in the blinds. Everything was sterile; light woods and itchy fabrics, the bed wasn’t comfortable but it was better than the chair. A bag sat in the corner unzipped and its contents unflatteringly pulled out of it. There were fast food wrappers on a tray table with empty cups sitting on the windowsill ready to be basked in sunlight.

Eddie had never been more tired.

The chaise was a second option because he couldn’t have the bed and he would never ask to have it anyway. The chair had grown increasingly unworthy of his attention after sixteen hours of pacing and sitting, pacing and sitting. He could barely keep his eyes open. The kind of tired that Eddie was feeling made everything sluggish; his body laid out on the green piece of furniture, his hand skimmed the cold tile floor as the sounds of a tile cleaner passed by the closed door.

If someone asked eighteen-year-old Eddie Munson where he thought he’d be at thirty, sitting here, in a hospital in Los Angeles would not be his first assumption.

Mega rockstar? Hot-shot guitarist with the best hair? Those were more probable than this.

But he let the whirring of the machine act as white noise. However, in the life that he wouldn’t trade for anything, quiet never lasted long.

“Mr. Munson?” A hand shook his shoulder, nudging the sleep he wished for into the back of his mind to be dreamt of another time.

“Mr. Munson,” the voice called again. Eddie cracked an eye open and saw the nurse give him a small smile, pity for the obvious tiredness that drooped from his face. “I’m sorry to wake you but there are visitors outside and I didn’t want to bring them in because of…”

She didn’t need to say it. People posing to be friends or family just to get a picture or a story. It was something he had to deal with, yet never got used to. It wasn’t natural nor normal to have to hide pieces of a person’s life because people felt entitled to every piece of them. The price of fame was high; the balance of privacy and publicity was a difficult seesaw.

Eddie sat up, the nurse pulling back and waiting for him at the door. She had seen many people walk through these halls, sit and stay by their partner’s side during the most life changing moment they’d ever have and Eddie was no different than the best of them. As he past the bed, he rubbed a foot covered in a yellow blanket and hospital grade sheets gently before exiting the room.

“I put them in a room down here because they were adamant that they were family,” she told him, her glasses swinging on her scrubs and hair graying at the roots. “One young man was particularly vibrant in his language… Claims he’s her brother but I don’t think they look anything alike.”

Eddie chuckled, squeezing the woman’s shoulder as she pointed to the door that she had huddled them all in. “I think I know exactly who that is actually.”

“If you bring them in the room, have them try to be quiet. You don’t see much silence up here and I’d rather give the opportunity for peaceful rest.”

“Will do,” he said but deep down, he felt that silence wouldn’t last if the gaggle of people he believed to be beyond the door to the other room turned to be true.

“Congratulations again,” she said and left him in the hall.

Eddie could hear the chatter beyond the threshold; bickering and the distinct sound of plastic wrap around flowers and balloons crinkling through the air. His life had changed so much from 1984. Each year more difficult and challenging—unprecedented and terrifying but here he was, an established adult man with his life (sort of) put together. Everything was clicking into place and most of it stemmed from the moment Steve Harrington and a girl named Lisa drew two names out of Mr. Allen’s bowls from home.

He walked through the doorway and saw fifteen smiling, giddy faces beaming back at him with balloons, bags, and flowers in their hands. Dustin was holding a teddy bear, El, Max, and Lucas were carrying bags of food for everyone to eat for lunch.

“Surprise!” They shouted in scattered exclamations of excited cheers.

Eddie had never been so happy to have a family—one of his own and one of his choosing.

Dustin was the first to barrel into him, throwing his arms around Eddie and hugging him tightly. It set off a chain reaction in the room. Arms and bodies squished, Eddie couldn’t tell if it was Hopper, Wayne, or your dad who rubbed the top of his head like he was a dog. Either way, the love was felt; the love was absorbed and it spread further into the hospital than just that little room. Fifteen connected souls bonding over something new.

“Congrats man,” Steve extended a hand, grasping Eddie’s with a firm grip as Robin hung off his shoulder. “Never thought I’d see you like this. But it also confirms that you and Y/n do the deed and I don’t like thinking about that.”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled tiredly. They could see how drained he was. Only the older ones in the room could relate to how Eddie was feeling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be here either.”

“But you know what?” Nancy piped up from beside Steve. “I never had a doubt that you’d be a good dad.��

“Thanks, Wheeler,” hearing that from Nancy meant a lot. Dustin popped up again from beside Nancy, tucking himself in between her and Eddie. He still had that bear clutched in his hands.

“Can we meet him?”

El looked excitedly at him, “can I hold him!?” It was her first time doing something like this.

“Only if you keep your trap closed,” Eddie warned Dustin, face serious as it could be. “That nurse will kick my ass if you throw a rager in there, alright? So keep the volume low…” Eddie stopped, thinking on it for a second. Fifteen people all at once would be like running a race on a Hawkins street with a million other people. “And we’ll go in groups. Grandparents first, then godparents, then everyone else, ‘Kay?”

“Eye-eye captain,” Dustin saluted him but kept on Eddie’s heels as everyone exited the empty room to transition to one with two. The door was left cracked open, the quiet nature of the room wanting to be left undisturbed had to be broken.

They had traveled all this way for this moment.

“Let me go in first,” Eddie told them, the older adults giving him fond smiles because he was taking it as seriously as they hoped he did. Maybe that project parenthood assignment had left a lingering impact on him. Maybe Eddie Munson had just matured into the person he always wished his parents were and wasn’t going to screw it up because life could be unkind sometimes. “I’ll come get you.”

Fifteen people who hailed from Hawkins were left in the hallway as Eddie re-entered the room. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet but in the end, it was useless because the second he turned the small corner that blocked his view of the bed, you were sitting up with the television remote in your hand. Across the way, Grease played silently on the screen.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him as you tried to keep your voice low. “Did something happen?”

Eddie shook his head, walking straight over to the side of the bed where he took your hand, kissing the back of it before rubbing his thumb against the back of it.

“We’ve got a party bus of visitors from Indiana,” he said, looking over you to the plastic bassinet that was positioned beside the bed. Wrapped in a white blanket—in a perfect swaddle—was his little boy. “They’re all waiting outside the door and won’t take no for an answer,” he joked.

“My parents out there? Wayne?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, thumb still running across the back of your hand. “I think your mom has already cried. Her eyes are kind of puffy.”

“Don’t tell her that,” you muttered, taking your own look at the little bundle. On the sticker behind his little head, one last name, un-hyphenated, was written in black ink behind him. One family, one unit.

But his name wasn’t Bilbo.

“Can they come in?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “just tell them to be quiet.”

Eddie smiled at you. Even in his tiredness, he could never hide the joy in his eyes. He was proud, eons beyond it in reality, but you had given him something he’d never dreamed of. A family. He would always have Wayne but now he had your parents, he had the kids, he had friends beyond Corroded Coffin and the people he worked with.

“I love you. You know that right?” He ran his free hand over your forehead, brushing the hair there and bending down to leave a kiss.

“You tell me every day,” you smiled, “and I love you too.”

“Then I guess he should meet his grandparents, huh?”

And when Eddie brought in your parents, Wayne, Hopper and Joyce, the sight brought you back to the first time Eddie ever stepped foot in your house.

How your dad watched reruns on the T.V. while you peeked out the blinds for him. He had known it then that Eddie was your forever. An arm wrapped around the man he considered to be the closest thing to a son he’d ever have, your father smiled at you the moment he saw the look in your eyes. Your mother skipped you completely and cooed at the little boy.

“Oh, baby,” she whispered at his chubby little face, “you have the best parents in the world.”

Tag List (Closed):

Thank you all for reading and supporting this fic series. I hope you enjoyed the last part and will stick around for any other Eddie writings I may do in the future. If you have been tagged in the tag list, I would humbly ask that you like and reblog to support but I also love reading and interacting with comments! I just love to hear from everyone so chat away—I want to know your thoughts.

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millieslibrary · 11 months

Text

lucky to love you

pairing(s): dallas winston x fem!reader:

summary: a damaged delinquent meets an adventurous, fiery young woman at a bar and they fall in love... what happens next?

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): underage drinking, smoking, gambling, fluff, and a pinch of angst

a/n: this is the first fanfic i've ever wrote. i really hope you like it.

It was a warm June night in the city of Tulsa. Cars and glowing business signs illuminated the streets and a soft breeze kept the heat from sweltering. The city was bustling, as families and people of all ages walked up and down the sidewalks, enjoying their Friday evening.

You were sitting at a sticky bar in a hot and heavy room of a place called ‘Buck’s’. A man slid you a glass with an amber liquid. You tipped your head back and let the burning taste of whiskey invade your mouth and spread through your body. This wasn’t your first drink of the night and surely wouldn’t be your last. You smiled at the man behind the counter before getting up from your seat at the bar and sliding past dozens of sweaty bodies to the billiard room.

There, two men stood at the pool table while a few lined the walls to spectate. Immediately, your eyes landed on the man at the far side of the table; 6 feet with gorgeous brown eyes and beautiful porcelain skin. He was a leather-wrapped bad decision.

His eyes came up from studying the green table and landed onto you. You watched him do a double take before his eyes took in your form, looking you up and down. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek.

“You gonna come in or you just gonna keep blocking the door?”

You smiled at him before taking a step inside.

“I wanna play," you stated plainly.

"Little lady thinks she can play pool," he uttered, half a question and half a statement. The others in the room laughed lightly at that.

"I reckon I can win too," you jabbed back.

He seemed surprised by your conviction. You watched as he smiled to himself. And what a smile it was. You felt your face heat up and butterflies in your stomach at the sight.

"Alright. I'll give you a go once I beat this guy," he said, confidently.

The rest of the game was quick. Your leather-jacket-wearing mystery man was a skilled player, experience exuding from every shot he took. However, even as you watched him take a couple dollars from the palm of his opponent, you felt confident.

You grabbed a stick off the wall and approached the table.

"I hope you're a betting woman," he said.

"Of course," you replied back easily.

"Tell you what," he started, "I'll bet you one dollar that I can beat you in fifteen shots or less."

"Deal," you smirked as you extended your hand to shake.

When he took it, you suddenly became aware of the difference in your sizes. His hand completely enveloped your own.

His fingers were calloused and rough. His knuckles were bruised; you resisted the urge to run your thumb over them. He was warm. You were almost sad to pull away.

"Does the little lady have a name?" he asked as you rounded the table.

"If you do," you replied as you took your break shot, a striped ball falling into the far left hole.

He smiled again and you felt yourself go slightly weak in the knees.

"I'm Dally. Dally Winston."

You had heard that name before. Unfortunately, word traveled fast in the city of Tulsa; and the name ‘Dally Winston’ was often attached to stories of a no-good, low-down delinquent. But something in you told you not to run away. Instead, you looked up and into his eyes.

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Dallas didn't beat you in fifteen shots or less. He didn't beat you at all. He rolled his eyes in irritation while handing you a dollar about fifteen minutes after the game's beginning.

"Let me buy you a beer," you offered to which he eagerly accepted.

Dally led you to the bar with his hand on the small of your back, careful not to lose you in the crowd. You bit your lip at the contact.

After using your earnings to pay for your drinks, Dally led you outside. You closed your eyes and breathed in the fresh air. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and gently placed one between his lips. He held the pack out to you and you copied his actions. He scoffed with a smile and shook his head lightly.

"What?" you asked.

"You're one interesting broad," he said, lighting his cigarette.

"What do you mean by that?" you replied inquisitively, lighting your own.

"You smoke, you drink, you play pool"

"I’m sure I’m not the only girl to do those things, Dally."

"And you're feisty. I like that."

You felt yourself smile at his words. You turned to look at him only to see that he was already looking at you. You wished you could take a picture of his face. Perfectly illuminated by Buck’s neon sign and the moonlight, Dally’s hair laid gently over his forehead, his lips parted, gently grasping his cigarette between his teeth. He was dangerously good-looking. You took another long drag off your cigarette.

“I should probably be on my way home,” you said, looking at the ground.

“How far away do you live?” he questioned

“It's maybe a fifteen-minute walk,” you responded.

“Let me walk you home, you shouldn’t be walking by yourself at this time of night.”

“Aw, does somebody care about me?” you teased, already making your way down the steps of Buck’s porch.

“Don’t go getting a big head about it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You and Dally made conversation the whole walk home. He told you about New York, living at Buck’s, and the ragtag little friend group he made since living in Tulsa. You told him about your family and friends and all your interests and hobbies. You were having so much fun talking with him that you were a little disappointed to see that you made it to your house. It was looking upon your house that suddenly filled you with worry. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Dallas Winston. You quickly came up with a solution.

“Wait here,” you ordered.

You unlocked the door and jogged down the hall to your room. You turned on the light before walking over to your desk and ripping the corner off an unimportant piece of paper, writing your phone number. Then, you reached into your pocket for your lipstick. You reapplied the color and kissed the tiny paper. After looking down to admire your handiwork, you ran back outside to find Dally where you left him.

“Call me,” you said, placing the note in the palm of his hand. When you went back inside, you watched from the windows as he looked down at the tiny paper and smiled.

That night, you dreamed about Dally.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

The next day, Dallas found himself at the Curtis house. He laid on the couch, long limbs splayed across the cushions. He tried to ignore the sound of Mickey playing through the TV speaker as he took a swig of his fifth beer.

“Take it easy Dal,” Soda commented as he moved to grab a deck of cards that sat on the coffee table.

Dally ignored him, hand fiddling with the piece of paper in his leather jacket pocket. Truthfully, Dallas was trying to drink away his nervousness; he was scared to call you. What if you were just drunk and last night was just a mistake? What if you didn’t want to hear from him?

Suddenly, Dally sat up. His eyes found Johnny, who sat on the ground with his back against the couch. Dally grabbed Johnny’s shoulder lightly and nodded toward the door. Johnny seemed to understand as the two stood up and walked toward the front door.

“You two leavin’?” Two-Bit questioned, remnants of chocolate cake covering his face.

“Nah man, just going for a smoke. I don’t wanna hear Darry complainin’ ‘bout me doin’ it in the house no more,'' explained Dally.

Two-Bit nodded as the boys exited. Dally immediately reached for his cigarettes, handing one to Johnny. Dally leaned up against the fence as he lit his cancer stick.

“What’s goin’ on Dal?” Johnny asked, almost concerned.

“I- uh- I met this girl last night, man,” Dally confessed.

“Yeah? What about her?”

“I like her. She’s real pretty. With a big mouth on ‘er. She beat me at pool,” Dallas smiled as he remembered the events of the previous night.

“You get some action or somethin’?” Johnny inquired, studying his friend’s face.

“Nah man, we just talked. She beat me at pool ‘nd then I walked her home. She told me to call her but I haven’t.”

“How come?”

Dally took a long drag from his cigarette.

“‘Cause- ‘Cause what if she don’t wanna hear from me, man?”

Dallas Winston doesn’t get nervous. Dallas Winston doesn’t get scared. Dallas Winston is never vulnerable. But for you, it seems, Dallas Winston cares. Johnny smiles at the thought.

“I’ve never seen you like this Dal,” Johnny can’t help but tease.

“I ain’t happy ‘bout it neither so shut yer trap,” Dally spat, glaring at Johnny.

Johnny laughed a little before taking a drag.

“Just call her. Don’t be a wuss.”

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

You had been on edge all day. You eagerly awaited a call from Dally but the phone had yet to ring. Once it had reached 3pm, you were beginning to feel that he was never going to call. You were beginning to feel that the night you spent together meant nothing to him. Your mind stirred with feelings of doubt.

Then, finally, the phone rang.

You scrambled to your feet, taking a deep breath before reaching for the phone. Slowly, you pulled the phone to your ear.

“Hey dollface.”

“Dally?” you cringed at the excitement in your voice.

Dallas laughed and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from squealing.

“You miss me?” he asked, cockily.

“What do you want, Winston?” you joked.

“Ouch. You hurt me, doll. Listen, do you- uh- do you wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“Sure! What movie?”

“Don’t know. I figure we’ll sneak in and find one of them cheesy ones that chicks like.”

“Ever the gentlemen, aren’t you?” you replied with a roll of your eyes, your smile being heard through the phone, “pick me up at 7.”

“Whatever you say, doll.”

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dallas waited for time to pass, absentmindedly rolling his St. Christopher between his fingers. He thought of you as he let a puff of smoke escape from his lips. Your smile, your lips, the way your eyes shone when you spoke or just listened to him talk. Your very being plagued Dally’s thoughts. You had an undeniable effect on him.

As Dally checked himself in the mirror and ‘fixed’ his hair for the nth time that evening, he was disgusted with himself. He had truly never felt so out of control, like a lovestruck schoolboy. Looking in the mirror once again, he scoffed.

It wasn’t you that Dally was afraid of. It was how he felt about you that scared him. For the first time, in a long time, he cared about somebody. Dallas wanted to be close to you. He wanted to understand you. He wanted to be understood by you. He already felt understood by you. Most people didn’t make Dally feel understood. But you did. And that was special.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Hours later, Dallas arrived at your doorstep. He was excited to see you again. At least with you at his side, his mind could no longer wander and his heart would no longer yearn. When you opened the door to meet him, Dally felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Turns out, you were this beautiful all the time, and your first meeting hadn’t been a happy accident. Dally let out a low whistle as he leaned his forearm against the door frame.

“See something you like?” you questioned, teasing.

“You know I do,” Dally responded with a smirk.

You breezed right past him with a giggle and Dally swore his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

The walk to the Nightly Double was similar to your walk home the previous night, filled with laughter and conversation. There was much to know about Dallas Winston. One of the many things you learned about him was that he was a very good listener. At least when he was with you, he would listen intently when you told a story or voiced your thoughts.

Once you arrived at the edge of the drive-in, Dally slid under the fence with ease, popping up on the other side. You followed after him, Dallas offering you his hand to help you stand up. You took it.

“You look like you’ve done that before,” Dally commented.

“That’s because I have,” you said, dusting yourself off.

Dally’s tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek, smiling. You waited for him to let go of your hand but he didn’t; instead, he led you past the dozens of parked cars to the viewing seats. He let go of your hand to swing himself over the railing, taking a seat. You rolled your eyes as you ducked under the railing, sitting down beside him. He gently laid his arm over your shoulders and you smiled. You reached for the pack of cigarettes in your pocket, offering him one. He took it from between your fingers and inspected it, placing it between his lips. You lit his and then your own. Dally took a puff.

“What are these?” he asked.

“They’re cloves,” you responded.

“They’re sweet,” he announced, eyes widening at the taste.

You nodded, making a mental note to find more things Dally hasn’t tried as you found his curiosity utterly adorable.

Your eyes fixed on the large screen ahead of you, taking another drag.

Dallas couldn’t tell you what movie you were seeing. He couldn’t even tell you what it was about. His eyes were on you the whole time. He liked the way your hair shaped your face, the way your eyebrows scrunched when you were worried or confused, and the way you nibbled on your bottom lip. The more time Dally spent with you, the more things he found to like about you. He tried to push away the thought.

“You wanna Coke?” He asked, standing up from his seat.

“Sure,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes.

With that, Dally made his way to the snack booth.

When he returned, he handed you your Coke and lit another cigarette before taking his seat again. You took a sip of your Coke and enjoyed the sweet taste. You looked at Dally.

Looking into the eyes of Dallas Winston was quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. His eyes seemed to tell a thousand stories. Stories of fun and troublemaking; and pain and sorrow. His eyes were ones that belonged to a person who grew up far too fast and knew the cruelty of the world all too well. Still, deep within them, you could see a childlike wonder and mischief. His eyes were cold. But looking into yours, they were soft.

You broke eye contact in favor of leaning your head on his shoulder. You couldn’t see his face from your position. He smiled.

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From that day on, you and Dally were practically inseparable. The two of you frequented the Dingo and the Nightly Double. Days he used to spend with Johnny and at the Curtis house were spent playing cards or poker with you at your house or in his single room above Buck’s bar. Nights he used to spend ‘hunting action’ and going to Buck’s parties alone were spent drinking and playing pool with you. You were Dally’s girl and everybody knew it; albeit nothing much had happened between the two of you. Stolen glances, prolonged eye contact, and his hands on your waist were as far as you had gone with one another. With you, Dallas didn’t feel the need to ask for more. Your presence and good conversation were enough. But everything changed on one particular night.

You laid awake, humming to the sweet melody coming from your record player with a cigarette in hand when you heard a faint tapping on your window. You smiled, putting out your cigarette as you got up from your position in bed. You already knew who it was; there was only one person who would be knocking on your window, especially at this time of night. When you pushed your window open, you were met with, in your opinion, one of the worst sights one could see. Dallas Winston, bloody and bruised, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Dal! What the hell happened?”

You quickly turned off your record player.

“Rumble,” Dallas replied simply, groaning as he pulled himself through your window.

You shook your head lightly, gazing at him with sad eyes as he sat on the edge of your bed.

“Let me clean you up. I’ll be right back,” you said, sparing him one final glance before you left the room to gather supplies.

When you returned, with a few washcloths and a tub of mildly soapy water in hand, Dallas was looking at the floor. After placing your materials on the ground next to him, you gently grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Did you win?” you asked lightly.

“I always do,” Dally responded, the ghost of a smile on his face.

You nodded, removing your hands from him and dipping a washcloth into the soapy water. Carefully, you brought the washcloth to his face, dabbing at a wound just above his eyebrow. Dally flinched a little at this which caused you to look at him sorrily. You soaked the washcloth again and started on another wound on his cheekbone. You repeated these ministrations until his face was clean of blood.

“Do you have any other open wounds?” you inquired.

“Nah, just bruises,” he answered.

“Are you in pain?”

“I’ll be alright.”

His failure to acknowledge your question did not go unnoticed by you. You placed a hand back on his face, thumb caressing his cheek.

“You make quite the nurse, doll.”

You shook your head, eyes closed.

“I hate seeing you like this Dal.”

“Hey,” he placed his hand over your own, “I’m okay.”

You nodded, looking into his eyes. You let your gaze fall to his lips. Then, you kissed him.

Dally kissed back almost immediately, pressing months of unsaid feelings to your lips with his own. He tasted like tobacco and cheap beer.

The kiss quickly turned messy; tongues sliding against each other as you straddled him on the edge of your bed. His large hands gripped your thighs and you bit lightly on his bottom lip. Your hand was still on the side of his face, the other pulling at the hair on the back of his head, causing him to moan. When you finally pulled back for air, Dally placed his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Will you stay?” you asked, so quietly you weren’t sure if he heard you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You crawled into bed, Dally removed his shoes and jacket, following after you. After pulling the covers up, you reached for his hand. You ran your thumb over his bruised knuckles, just like you had dreamed of doing the night you first met. You placed a kiss on each of them, smiling to yourself as you did so.

That night, as you laid comfortably on Dally’s chest, he became sure that he loved you. He decided, that night, that he would do anything for you. He would do anything to protect you.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

In the following weeks, your relationship with Dally became more romantic. You often spent the night in Dally’s apartment and he often came knocking on your window at ungodly hours of the night. It became difficult to sleep without you, but he’d never tell you that. You realized that he very rarely wasn’t touching you in some way or another. His arm found home over your shoulders or around your waist. He frequently pulled you into his lap and placed his head in the crook of your neck.

After months of knowing you, though, Dally never introduced you to his friends. Dally hadn’t realized you had never met the gang until he arrived at the Curtis house after not having been there in nearly a month.

“Where you been Dal? I feel like I never see you no more,” Johnny commented.

“I’m sorry kid, I’ve been busy with Y/N,” Dally replied, sitting next to Johnny on the couch.

“Who’s Y/N?” Ponyboy questioned from his spot on the floor.

“She’s- uh- She’s my girl,” Dally responded.

“How come we never met her then?” Two-Bit inquired, joining the boys in the living room, beer in hand.

“Never met who?” Sodapop asked, following Two-Bit to the living room, Steve in tow.

“Dally’s girlfriend,” answered Ponyboy.

“If she’s anything like Sylvia, I don’t wanna meet her,” Steve announced, getting a good laugh out of Two-Bit.

“Shut yer trap, will ya? She’s nothing like that,” Dally spat, placing a cigarette between his lips.

“What’s she like then?” Pony interrogated.

The boys looked to Dallas, eagerly awaiting his response. Dally lit his cancer stick.

“She’s- I don’t know man. She’s different. She sneaks into movies and she beats me at everything: cards, poker, pool. She’s a damn good pool player. She could drink two six-packs, she’ll still beat me, man. She’s smart. And she’s pretty. Real pretty,” Dally smiled. “She's nothing like Sylvia, man.”

A hush fell over the room.

“Sounds like somebody’s in love!” Soda said, breaking the silence.

That single comment set the room ablaze; hooting and hollering, and endless wolf calls and whistles filled the house.

“Shut up man!” Dally shouted; though, he was never able to fully wipe the smile from his face.

“When ya gonna let us meet her, Dal?” asked Johnny

“Yeah, you should bring her by,” Soda decided.

Dally thought for a moment before grabbing the phone.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

When you arrived at the Curtis house an hour later, you were overcome with nerves. You knew Dally’s gang was something of a family to him and you wanted to make a good first impression. You lit a cigarette, licking your lips to taste the sweet residue left behind by the cloves. You made your way up the steps, knocking on the door.

When it opened, you were met with a young boy. He had longer, dark hair slicked back with grease; and kind, light brown eyes. The two of you exchanged a smile.

“Come in,” he said, stepping to the side.

You entered and were immediately met with a low whistle from a man in a Mickey Mouse shirt, causing you to smile and roll your eyes. You took a puff from your cigarette while surveying the room. You could definitely tell the space was inhabited by three boys; still, it was homey and happy.

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see a familiar face.

“Sodapop?”

Soda quickly crossed the room to wrap his arms around you and you giggled, returning his hug.

“How’ve you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soda exclaimed.

“I’ve been good, really good. Are you still working at the DX?”

Unbeknownst to you, Dally stood in the corner of the room, watching your reunion with the second-oldest Curtis boy. He clicked his tongue and took a swig of his beer. Something about watching Soda embrace you like that didn’t sit right with him but he couldn’t figure out why. Dallas trusted you. So why did seeing you giggle at something Soda said have him clenching his fist?

Dally sauntered over to you, throwing his arm over your shoulders.

“Hey dollface,” Dally said, “you- uh- you two know each other?”

“Yeah! I used to pop in at the DX all the time for snacks and stuff. Soda and I became familiar,” you replied.

“Uh-huh,” Dally responded shortly, moving to sit on the couch next to the Mickey-Mouse-clad man.

You immediately felt something was wrong with Dallas but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. You tried to shake off the thought, turning back to Soda.

“So who is everybody?” you asked

“This here is Steve,” Soda introduced, as a man with greased hair and crooked teeth approached you from the dining table, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Right, I remember you,” you said, taking his hand.

“That there is Two-Bit,” Soda continued, pointing to the man in the Mickey Mouse shirt. You gave Two-Bit a small wave. “Then, there’s Johnnycake,” Soda gestured to a boy sitting on the floor in a jean jacket. “And my kid brother, Ponyboy,” finally identifying the young man who opened the door for you.

“No way! This is your brother?” you moved to sit between Johnny and Ponyboy on the floor.

“Yup! I have an older brother, Darry, but he’s not home right now,” Soda answered.

You nodded, putting out your cigarette.

“You wanna beer?” Soda offered.

“That would be nice, thank you,” you replied. You turned your attention to Ponyboy, “Soda’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re into books and movies and stuff.”

“Yeah,” responded Ponyboy, sheepishly.

“I like movies too,” you said, smiling.

“Really?” Ponyboy inquired, excitement evident in his tone.

You hummed in agreement, taking a beverage from Soda’s hand with a small ‘thank you’.

“What about you?” you asked, turning to Johnny.

You noticed Johnny’s face was littered with scars and bruises. When he finally met your eyes, you saw years of pain and suffering in the chocolate orbs staring back at you. His eyes almost felt… recognizable. You realized that you saw a bit of Dally in Johnny’s eyes. Both had eyes that belonged to people who knew the cruelty of the world all too well. Your heart immediately ached for him, this young boy who’d been beaten down by the world’s brutality. It wasn’t pity that you felt for him, it was sympathy.

Johnny didn’t answer your question, only shrugging. You took a sip of your beer and reached for your cigarettes. You handed one to Johnny, lighting his and then your own.

“It’s sweet,” Johnny announced, eyes widening at the taste.

You smiled at the familiar reaction.

“They’re clove cigarettes,” you said, “they’re these little flowers that they roll in with the tobacco. It makes ‘em smell and taste good.”

Johnny nodded along as you spoke, smiling. He liked the sound of your voice; it was soft and soothing.

Dally watched you talk to Johnny out of the corner of his eye. The only two people Dallas ever loved; he was glad that you guys seemed to be getting along.

“You boys ever played poker?” you questioned. Johnny and Ponyboy shook their heads. “Go get a deck of cards. I’ll teach you.”

Ponyboy stood up to find a deck of cards and you got up to sit on Dally’s lap. You frowned as Dallas refused to meet your eyes. Eventually, you placed your hands on his face, forcing him to look at you.

“What’s wrong?” you all but demanded.

Dally didn’t respond to your question, instead, he leaned up and pressed his lips to yours. Two-Bit howled at the action, causing Dallas to hit him upside the head with his lips still on yours.

“Gross,” said Ponyboy, having returned with the cards.

You smiled into the kiss before parting, Dally’s lips chasing your own.

“Alright, let’s play,” you announced, walking over to the dining table.

“You mind if we join in?” Soda asked, Steve at his side.

“Not at all,” you replied, “In fact, why don’t we all play? Two-Bit? Dal? You want in?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent in laughter, playful arguing, and competitive gameplay. You taught Johnny, Ponyboy, and some of the rest of the gang how to play Texas Hold’em. You all bet cigarettes as chips, giving the game some real stakes. Eventually, Darry arrived home; the oldest Curtis brother could not be convinced to join the game, shaking his head but ultimately enjoying the chaos occurring at his dining room table. By the time everyone called it quits, Steve and Two-Bit both won one hand, Soda and Dally both won two, Johnny won three, and you won four.

“Ponyboy, you have the worst poker face!” you exclaimed, laughing as you gathered the cards.

“You better not have any run-ins with the fuzz,” Two-Bit cackled, “you’ll crack for sure!”

“Now I know why gambling’s illegal. I barely have any cigarettes left. If we were betting real money, I would’ve lost my house,” Steve joked.

“That’s why you won’t be doin’ it with real money, isn’t that right boys?” Darry called with a stern look etched on his face.

The boys all nodded in unison, making you giggle.

“You going home tonight Johnny?” Dally questioned with concern.

Johnny shook his head, taking a seat on the couch.

“Speaking of going home, I think I overstayed my welcome. Besides, I need to start smoking all the cigarettes you guys let me steal from you,” you said with a wink, making the boys groan in response.

You made your way toward the door, ruffling Pony’s hair as you walked past him.

“Y/N!” You turned around at the sound of Soda’s voice. “You could never overstay your welcome. You can come here whenever you like,” he said with a smile.

Your heart warmed at his words and you nodded appreciatively. You opened the door, tossing a goodbye over your shoulder as you exited, Dally close behind.

The two of you walked in silence for a while. You and Dally could talk about any and everything but as your relationship progressed, you also became comfortable in each other's quiet company. That being said, your mind was restless.

“Why did you ask Johnny if he was going home tonight?” you blurted.

“Johnny’s folks are no good, man,” Dally replied after a moment, “every time he goes home, he comes back with new bruises.”

You nodded, thinking to yourself.

“Where does he go instead?” you questioned.

“He stays at the Curtis’ or he goes to the lot.”

You nibbled on your bottom lip. You hated that. You hated that Johnny was spending nights alone, sleeping on a busted seat in an empty lot. But what you hated, even more, was that he thought it better than being at home. If that place could even be called a home. The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. You clenched your hands at your sides.

Suddenly, you felt Dally’s hand grab your clenched one.

“I know. I hate it too. But you ain’t doin’ nothin’ for him by working yourself up over it, so relax,” he said.

You took a deep breath.

“You were- You were upset earlier. Why?” you interrogated.

Dallas often marveled at your ability to read him. You seemed to always know how he was feeling without him having to say a word. You just got him in a way no one had before.

“I just… I didn’t like how Soda was touching you, doll.”

“You were jealous?” you thought aloud, a smirk growing on your face.

“I wasn’t jealous,” Dally said defensively, looking away from you.

“You totally were!”

“I wasn’t!”

“Just admit it, you were jealous!”

Dally stopped in front of your house, tackling you into a hug.

“Shut up man,” Dally said, kissing your neck, causing you to giggle.

“We’ve talked about this though Dal,” you replied seriously. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

“I know, doll. But ya gotta understand. I don’t trust em’, other guys I mean,” said Dallas carefully.

“But you can trust me,” you replied earnestly, “and Soda’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dally looked at the ground. “Can I- I wanna give you somethin’.”

“What is it?” Dallas slowly removed his St. Christopher from his neck. “Oh Dally, I couldn’t-”

“I want you to have it,” he said resolutely, “come on, turn around”

You turned your back to Dallas, allowing him to secure the chain around your neck. You fiddled with the silver pendant. When he was finished, you turned to face him.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever,” you said with a smile.

Dally looked down at you, placing his hands on your face. His thumbs stroked your cheeks before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. You guys stayed like that for a while, kissing under a street lamp on a warm September night.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dallas Winston had completely changed your life. It was a surprise to everyone but you that he was capable of changing it for the better. His gang quickly adopted you into their group; you went to movies with Ponyboy, made lunches on weekdays for Darry, visited Soda and Steve at the DX, drank with Two-Bit on weekends, and all the while maintained your multi-weekly sleepovers with Dallas. Out of everyone, though, you had grown particularly close to Johnny.

You no longer allowed Johnny to sleep at the lot. If he couldn’t stay at the Curtis’, you insisted that he stay with you. Dally, admittedly, wasn’t overjoyed to be sharing you with his best friend but he knew you couldn’t bear to let Johnny sleep in the lot, especially with the changing season; It was one of the many things Dallas loved about you. You helped Johnny with his homework when you could, went to the Dingo, taught him how to play a variety of your favorite games, read to him, and even cleaned his wounds after he visited his parents. Despite popular belief, Johnny was smart. You truly loved and treated Johnny like a brother. And Johnny loved you too, the first woman in his life to treat him with compassion.

You were at the Curtis house baking cookies for the boys. It was the holiday season and you wanted to do something nice for the gang.

“Hurry up! I want my cookies!” shouted Two-Bit from the living room.

“You keep shouting at me, and you aren’t getting any!” you called back.

“Do we pour in the dry ingredients now?” asked Ponyboy.

“Not yet, Johnnycake hasn’t cracked the eggs,” you replied.

Johnny moved to crack the eggs. He disposed of the eggshells while you mixed the wet ingredients. Ponyboy poured in the dry ingredients, missing half the bowl. You shook your head as the boys laughed, sweeping the powder in with their hands. You were glad you cleaned the area and made the boys wash their hands before you started baking. Once everything was incorporated, Johnny started mixing. You busied yourself by greasing the cookie sheets. Pony leaned against the counter, gazing at Dally’s St. Christopher hanging around your neck.

“Y/N, are you in love with Dally?”

You nearly dropped the cookie sheet you were holding, making Johnny laugh.

“Yeah Y/N, are you in love?” Johnny said, teasing, but still genuinely curious.

“What kind of question is that?” you exclaimed, your face hot with embarrassment. The two boys looked at you expectantly, causing you to sigh. “Of course I do. I love Dally with all my heart. But we’ve never said anything like that to each other before so keep your mouths shut, you hear?”

The boys nodded, smiling.

“What’s it like?” Johnny questioned.

“Soda says bein’ in love is real nice,” Ponyboy answered.

“Well, I can’t speak for Soda,” you said, “but being in love with Dal is like… being at the top of a roller coaster. It’s exciting and enthralling and it makes you feel all fuzzy.” Johnny and Ponyboy watched you carefully. “So- So I guess Soda’s right… it’s real nice,” you smiled.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dallas hadn’t returned any of your calls in the past five days. You were rather busy as it was the beginning of a new year and you assumed Dally just hadn’t been able to get back to you. But when the weekend finally came and you still hadn’t heard back from him, you were beginning to feel worried. You walked over to Buck’s hoping to find him there but he wasn’t. Buck informed you that he hadn’t even seen Dally in the past five days. Hearing that immediately sent you from worried to full-on terrified. You ran as fast as you could to the Curtis house.

You pushed the gate open and ran up the steps, frantically knocking on the door. Johnny opened it, looking down at you from your spot on the stairs.

“Johnnycake,” you spoke through labored breaths, “have you seen Dal? I went looking for him but Buck hasn’t seen him and he hasn’t answered any of my calls. I- I’m starting to get really worried, Johnny, please tell me you’ve seen him.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Johnny asked, shocked.

“Know what? Johnny, what’s going on?” Johnny pulled you inside, the whole gang was there, looking at you sorrily. “You guys are really freaking me out. Where’s Dal? What happened?”

“Dal’s in the cooler Y/N,” Two-Bit said finally.

The boys all looked to the ground, unable to meet your eyes.

“He’s- He’s what?”

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/N-,” Soda started.

“No. No.” You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes “Can I see him? I need to see him. Darry,” you approached him, “take me to see him. Please. Please take me to see him.”

Darry looked into your eyes, he'd never seen you so desperate.

“Alright kid, I’ll take you.”

“I’m coming too,” Johnny announced.

The car ride was quiet; the only sound that could be heard was the tires against the road.

You knew Dallas had been to jail on multiple occasions for a variety of different stretches. But the image of Dally in a prison uniform, locked up in a cell, made your heart ache. Tears began streaming down your face at the thought. You laid your head on Johnny’s shoulder and cried silently.

When you arrived, Darry told you and Johnny to head inside while he waited in the car. The two of you met a lady at the front desk, giving her your names along with Dallas’. She invited you to wait while they informed him of your visit. Finally, she led the both of you to ‘the visitation room’.

There were two rows of seats facing each other, separated by glass. Each column was divided by walls, and a phone hung from the left wall of every column on both sides of the glass. Johnny stood at the edge of the room and you took a seat, fiddling with the pendant on the necklace Dally gave to you.

When Dallas entered, you watched from the other side of the glass as the cop removed the cuffs from his wrists. Dally had a nasty bruise on the side of his face. He sat at the seat across from you, picking up the phone. You copied his actions.

“Hey dollface.”

“Hey Dal,” you forced a smile, tears welling up in your eyes, “ are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Is there really nothing I can do to get you out of here?” you questioned, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Please don’t cry, doll. I can’t stand to watch you cry.”

“This is killing me, Dal.”

“I know, doll. I know. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But listen to me, alright? They said I got four months in here if I stay on my best behavior. I’m gonna be a saint, alright? I swear it. They’ll let me out early and I’ll come home to you. I promise,” he said decidedly.

“Okay,” you nodded, tears streaming down your face.

“You gotta promise me you won’t come back here. I don’t want you to see me like this, ya understand? Just take care of the boys and wait for me. I promise I’ll come back to you.”

“Fine,” you said. “Dal, I-”

“Don’t say it. Not now. Just wait for me, alright?”

You nodded, hanging up the phone. You turned and left the room, Dally’s eyes on you as you exited. Dallas gestured for Johnny.

Johnny sat down in your seat, picking up the phone just as you did.

“Hey Dal,” said Johnny.

“Hey kid. Listen, take care of Y/N for me, alright?”

“‘Course I will.”

“Thanks Johnnycake.”

Johnny had never heard Dallas say ‘thank you’ to anybody for anything. Johnny knew then that you were truly important to Dally, that Dally loved you.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

That night, after your visitation with Dally, you stayed at the Curtis’; you fell asleep on Soda and Ponyboy’s shared bed, tucked between Johnny and Ponyboy as Pony read aloud.

In the following months, you did exactly what Dallas told you to do; you took care of the boys and waited for him. The boys took care of you too, sometimes unknowingly. Not a moment went by, though, that you didn’t think about Dally: his eyes, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You missed him gravely and your driving force became the knowledge that he would, eventually, come home.

It was a late morning at the Curtis house, as per usual on weekends. It had been four months since you had visited Dally in jail, but you believed that it was still far too early in the month for Dallas to be coming home anytime soon. You were cooking eggs and french toast for the boys, humming to the music playing through your record player. You had dragged the sound system over months prior, noticing that you were spending more time at the Curtis’ than your own home. You piled two pieces of toast next to some plated eggs. A new song began and you moved your hips to the rhythm, singing along. You were in your own world, completely unaware of what was happening in the rest of the house. You were dancing across the kitchen floor when you heard it, the voice you thought about every day for months.

“Jeez doll, I’m starting to think you didn’t miss me at all.”

You spun around so fast, you were impressed that you didn’t get whiplash. You dropped your spatula, legs carrying you as fast as they could, jumping into his arms. Dally laughed at the impact.

“Oh Dal, you’re home! You’re finally home!” you pressed your lips to his, months of longing behind a single kiss. You hugged him close. “I missed you so much.”

Suddenly, Dally threw you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise. Dally made his way through the Curtis home, you giggling into his back.

“Say bye to the boys, Y/N,” Dally announced.

"Bye!" you said, face red from the blood flow to your head.

A chorus of goodbyes could be heard from the boys as you exited.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

You were laying in bed with Dallas in his single room above Buck’s bar, just like you had done many times before. But this time was different as you had waited months for this moment, to be in his arms again.

“I missed you so much Dal,” you reiterated.

“I missed ya too, doll. So much,” he said. Dallas looked into your eyes, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He remembered the thing you wanted to say to him when you visited him in jail, the thing he stopped you from saying, the thing he thought about you saying for the past four months. “I love you,” he blurted out, surprising himself and you.

Your eyes widened at his confession, mouth slightly agape. You searched his eyes for any regret or doubt but there was none.

“I love you, Dal. I love you so much.”

He kissed you, tongue prodding at your bottom lip for entry. You allowed him, tongues molded together in an eloquent dance. When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m no good with words, doll. You know that. But I’m lucky. I’m lucky to love you.”

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dally winston #dally winston x reader #dallas winston imagine #the outsiders imagine

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