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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months

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Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron Two Shot - Part 1 of 2

Perv/Frat!Rafe x Female!Reader

+18 Minor DNI

Spoilers in the Warning: swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I'm sorry)

Edited lightly (sorry I've been in my head about my writing lately so she's kinda rough tbh)

3.8k

Part 1 will be from Rafe's POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s

Rafe's POV:

Part 1

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.

“I agree.”

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She's not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can't wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I'm gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I'm torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She's a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she's mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.

“All semester, and you haven't made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.

“Long game,” he defends himself.

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn't even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don't even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I'm gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I'm not fuckin’ around. She's mine.”

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I'm bigger. He can fight, but he's not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn't care less. And he knows it.

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.

“Mine.”

++++++++

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you're a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat's money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I try… But, if we get busted, I'll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl's eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts... That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.

I'll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I've never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.

He’s fucking dead.

++++++++

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy...

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.

I'll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I'll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.

My dirty little whore.

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.

“Positive,” I assure.

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I'll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don't think I can take this.

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

A/N: Writing Part 2 Soon :)

Tags: @voyeurmunson@babygorewhore@beautifuldisaster88@gri959@rafedrewandjjs@redhead1180@xo-billy-hargrove-ox@romaescapes@cutielando@imbabycowboy@wearemadeofstardust0@drewstarkeyslut@babyraven@juniebugg@humanvampire13@akashababy@dckweed@ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27@marahgubler@joannamuns9n@h34rtsformilli@jayla@randymeeksistheloml@waywarsoul113

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joequiinn · 1 month

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PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | B.H. x reader

summary: Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…

a/n: Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!

notes & tropes: fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)

music inspo: Closer by Nine Inch Nails

preview wc: 1.9k

You let me violate you | You let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you

“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”

God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.

Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.

But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused “who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.

This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.

And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.

So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.

And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.

And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.

You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.

But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.

“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.

“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”

“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.

And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?

You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.

“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”

You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.

But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?

No, it was not hot.

You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.

No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.

“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.

The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.

“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.

He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”

“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”

Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.

“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”

You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”

You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”

“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”

“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.

“I don’t need a ride from you.”

“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”

“More like devious.”

“I’ll be a total gentleman.”

You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things

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amomentsescape · 9 months

Text

Billy Loomis Jealousy Headcanon

Warnings: Foul language

A/N: Billy + jealousy is just such a good match.

Your teacher decided to choose your partners for today's assignment

Normally, she let you all pick who you wanted to be with

And of course, you and Billy always chose each other

So when you got partnered up with a guy (a football player for that matter)

Billy was surely pissed off

But he hid it well

You glanced over at him when your name was called

Billy looked back and raised his brows, his jaw tightly shut

You offered a small smile and sat down next to your partner

He honestly wasn't a bad guy for being one of the populars

He was always very polite with everyone, so you weren't too upset with working with him

You guys jumped right into the assignment, discussing what steps you both should take first

He cracked a couple jokes here and there, and you offered a few laughs in response

Billy was seeing red

The fact that you didn't feel the back of your head burning from his stare was honestly odd

He just needed one look back, one smile from you

Billy knew you were loyal

But he hated that this other guy was trying so hard to hear your giggles

He couldn't even focus on his own assignment and partner, all Billy could do was just stare at you with dark eyes

You were still talking to the football player once class was over

You honestly appreciated his genuine company and non-dick behavior

"Yeah, so I'll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded in response to him

Until you felt a heavy arm on your shoulders

"You two seem friendly" Billy spoke darkly to the other boy

You looked at him and noticed that glint in his eyes

Uh oh

"Well yeah, we're working together-"

"There's no 'we.' Mrs. Brady said I'll be working with (Y/N) for the rest of the project"

You looked at your boyfriend confused and saw a similar expression on the other boy's face

"But she said-" he started

"Don't fucking argue with me"

"Billy!" you exclaimed. "What the hell?"

He suddenly met your gaze and grabbed you by the waist, his lips meeting yours

He continued to kiss you as your partner just looked around uncomfortably before deciding to walk away

Billy finally pulled back

"Why are you acting so weird?" you asked

Billy didn't say anything, he just clenched his jaw

"Are you actually my partner now?" you tried again

"Yeah. He won't be coming to school anymore"

You were confused again

"What? He didn't say anything..."

Billy gave you a dark look

"Billy. Don't you dare. He's a nice guy!"

He grabbed your chin and brought your mouth close to his

"Watch that tongue. He won't be anything after tonight."

He bit your bottom lip softly and quickly pulled away

"Now, let me walk you to class"

Your knees felt wobbly

#billy loomis preference #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #scream franchise #scream movie #scream #ghostface #ghostface x reader

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madelynraemunson · 10 months

Text

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series (completed)

* loosely inspired by Sara Cate’s “Salacious Players Club” series

🔥 EXTRA CONTENT HERE 🔥

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016** , 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters , ** = smut chapters

Summary: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓. After getting kicked out by your brother, you have no other choice but to take off your big girl pants and add stripper to your resume. Desperate to pay the bills and support your little sister, are you willing to accept the risks that come with such a perilous profession? With the stage name ‘Shy Girl’, you take the leap of faith, weaponizing your divine femininity to steal the hearts of all the bachelors in Hawkins — including Eddie Munson’s, the owner of Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, eventual smut (a lot of it), voyeurism, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, drug/alcohol, profanities, sexual harassment, domestic violence

Welcome to Hellfire.

theme song: meet you in hell by jade lemac “Look me in my eyes. I know that you’re scared. You see yourself and you cry for help. Look me in my eyes. Tell me it’s not fair. If you taught me well, I’ll meet you in hell.”

Chapter 001: Wolves

The Hargroves are cursed. Generationally, that is. One night Billy takes it too far, costing him the only thing he had left... his sisters.

TW — abuse, domestic violence, blood, profanities, implications of infidelity, death

word count: 8.5k words

author's note: there are four different acts to this introductory chapter :) so much foundation to lay down and i spent forever on this to craft it perfectly for you guys. thank you for being as excited about this fanfic as I am releasing it. i hope you all enjoy! -madelyn

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

"Once I ran to you. Now I run from you."

♡

Duality of man. Mom was always a firm believer in that notion. In fact, she always used to say, "Inside of you, there are two wolves: a good one and a bad one. Depending on which mouth you feed, one will triumph the other.”

It became more evident when she died.

“YOU FUCKING SLUT. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GO.”

Once identical in every aspect, the differences between you and your brother slowly began to unravel over time.

Being ‘good wolf’ was impossible while living under the same roof as Billy. So you settled for neutral wolf instead. Meanwhile, the big, bad wolf possessed him at age 15, when he realized hitting your father back would get him to back off.

It was 2010, post-homecoming game.

Dad nearly flung Billy into another dimension when he came home. The preferred alternative would have been attempting to reason with one another, but it just wasn’t something that was normalized in the Hargrove household. Communicating with words was a daunting task; but not nearly as daunting as accountability.

“I’M DONE WITH YOU, BILLY. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE.”

“I’m a literal minor, you can’t do this, Dad!” Billy wailed. "PLEASE!"

Over a football game.

The Friday Night Lights were a staple of Vista Palms High School. That and all of its nacho-eating, pot-smoking, LMFAO-playing, neon-filled goodness.

"C’mon V-P, c’mon, let’s beat S-D!” For weeks Billy had been chanting that mantra. There was no clearer indication that it’s where he would be the night of the championship game. He didn’t communicate it, of course, but it was implied. But still, it didn’t cross Dad’s mind.

Any parent who thought their child was coming home on time — and sober — that night was a foolish one. Especially if their kid was a sophomore with senior status.

“You sure as hell don't act like one,” Dad spat. “Coming home, acting all grown." Little did Dad know Billy was there for community service. Billy was a good student. More than anything he wanted a full ride to a UC, mainly to get away from home. Either that or military. Maybe then, walking on eggshells and being accused of something he didn't do — like drinking and doing drugs — would be a seasonal occurence instead of daily. "ACTING LIKE YOU PAY THE BILLS. YOU DON'T. YOUR MOM AND I DO.”

Dad knew he hit a nerve. It was his signature move aside from alienating his victims to establish control. While the feeling of getting your wings clipped really did you in, reactive abuse was Billy's top trigger, especially when Mom was mentioned. After all, Billy was the one who found Her.

Through glassy eyes and gritted teeth, Billy closed up his fists before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m…not…calling Sue... the operative word.”

Dad snarled. “Like there’s anyone else physically here you’ve reserved that title for?”

Oh.

"This tainted love you've given-"

Billy took the bait, lunging forward to grab Dad. As if on cue, Dad winded up his arm, assuming his usual position. You managed to assert yourself between in hopes of stopping them. Suddenly the back of Dad's hand collided with your cheek, sprawling you onto the couch. Billy watched horrified while you fought to keep your eyes open, growing anxious when all you could hear was the room pulsating around you at the highest frequency you had ever heard in your 15 long years of life. Enough was enough.

One punch. Bridge of the nose. Game over. The control Dad had over you both had ceased.

Billy rushed to your aid while Dad took a few moments to gather himself. It was then his beat-in, throbbing eyes realized that the little boy he mercilessly pushed around was no longer there. His own little Frankenstein had taken his place.

"I gave you all a boy could give you"

"Oh my god, Sissy," Billy cried, crouching down to run a soothing hand through your hair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you sniff, wrapping a hand around his arm. "I'm fine, Billy. I promise."

"I'm not gonna let that son of a bitch hurt you ever again," he vowed. "I'm gonna fuck him up and anyone else who tries."

"I love you, Brother."

"I love you, Sissy." The magnitude of power that surged through Billy melted into every neuron in his body, the warmth of its adrenaline imitating a tender — long overdue — embrace. He became fully enveloped in what was like an electric current, its tide higher than any wave he's ever surfed. It became more exhilarating than cruising down the I-5 in his Camaro at 130 MPH, and more intoxicating than any keg of beer he's ever swigged at a Wanna-be Project X Party.

It was the rush Billy had been searching for his whole life.

Every high Billy ever pursued before that rapidly declined in value. He would trade in anything for the static that had encoded itself into him. He felt untouchable, a luxury your father couldn’t afford his wife and children.

"YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AGAIN, YOU'RE DEAD DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

From that day forward, feeling respected was a freedom Billy was not willing to sacrifice, ever.

"Take my tears and that's not nearly all-"

But now Billy is the abuser, something you never imagined happening given his innately soft personality.

"Oh, tainted love. Don't touch me! Please.”

Slapping. Biting. Choking each other out. Pulling each other’s hair. Calling each other names. Spitting. Throwing things. Who would’ve thought the Hargrove twins were capable of the same horrors as their parents?

Yesterday was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Billy’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, clawed at your brain in agonizing intervals.

“That’s all Max is. A pathetic little liar.”

“She will do anything for any bit of attention…even whore herself out to all the men in Del Mar.”

“You can get out. And stay out. Since you wanna act so grown all the damn time.”

He became the very thing — or person rather — he sought to destroy. The very person who indirectly, but explicably killed your mother.

And deep down you feared that if you and your stepsister Max don’t get out of that house, you’d both suffer that same fate.

“It's fucking JULY and 90 degrees out!” your sister retaliated. “What do you want me to wear to the beach? Fucking sweats?"

Max was out with friends the night prior. They hosted a birthday bonfire for her at the beach. She broke curfew and got a ride home from a friend. A guy friend. Billy wasn’t having it.

Max always got the short end of the stick. She was an easy target for Billy’s antics. Being the literal carbon copy of the woman he hates the most didn’t make it any better, and neither did taking the bait whenever Billy dealt it to “keep the peace”. Max believes being and acting helpless would get Billy to back down. It was far from the truth. In reality, she was feeding him his supply.

And what a volatile supply it is.

Mom also had another saying: "Anger is just grief with nowhere to go".

So you watched Billy and Max go back and forth with their pickleball tournament-o-insults, shouting at one another to their lungs’ capacity, their dead, black pupils strangling each other mentally while they gathered the physical strength to do so as well. You kept an arm halfway up and torso slightly turned in case you needed to butt in.

“I do this because I love you, Maxine,” Billy insisted. “So just SHUT UP and stop being a little cunt. Okay?”

“You stop being a presumptuous asshole first,” Max fired back. “We’re fighting again — why? Because someone with a penis drove me home? And we broke curfew by 10 minutes? I don’t control traffi-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he dismissed her. “Just say you wanted some dick and call it a night.”

Classic slut-shaming, as if Billy’s Instagram following wasn’t all models, strippers, and OnlyFans girls.

Before you could even process what was happening, the blurbs of their argument skidded to a halt when Max finally broke. Billy watched in subtle amusement as she screamed, her fist meeting the wall repeatedly out of frustration.

Reactive abuse is Billy’s favorite abuse tactic.

“Someone who’s not guilty wouldn’t react like this,” Billy quipped in a sing-song voice, eyeing the new hole in the dry wall that Max had created.

There was no sense in backtracking if Billy already got what he wanted. Max just needed the last word. Before any of you could process it, an acrylic storage box soared through the air, hitting Billy right in the groin. He roared in agony while Max attempted to collect herself off to the side. She still saw red.

That’s when the knife came out.

One slice to the brow and it was over. To ensure the last word was his to keep, Billy ended up chucking a knife at your sister.

“OHMYGOD!” Max shrieked repeatedly, entering the ‘freeze’ stage of her shock. “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, I’M BLEEDING! I’M BLEEDING, THERE’S BLOOD!”

It was then you realized, the little boy you vowed to protect and refused to leave behind was long gone. Dad’s essence had taken his place now.

“You just don’t know when to FUCKING STOP, do you?” you exclaimed, putting pressure on Max’s eyebrow with a washcloth as she wailed. Suddenly it was Dad you were talking to. They had the same apathetic, dead look in their eyes. “I don’t care who said or did what, throwing a fucking KNIFE?”

“Me?” Billy tutted. “You wanna call me crazy, who did that?” He was referring to the hole in the wall. “And who was the one to throw shit first? EXACTLY. EXACTLY.”

While Billy was technically correct, he would never admit to what he did to provoke you two.

“So you can both get out if you’d like. Be my fucking guests.”

You and Max exchanged one look. The look. It was time. You both were ready and now had the green light. Now was the chance to bolt without immediate consequences.

So you and your sister spent several minutes rummaging through your pre-packed belongings while Billy continued to shit-talk aimlessly around the rental you shared. The place soon reeked of cheap bud and gas station gin. Trash bags were soon filled with your favorite clothes and you shoved them into as many of your childhood suitcases as possible. Struggling to see past your tear-coated eyes, you reached for your books, the ones you've hollowed out 300 pages deep to pocket all the tips from your waitressing job, and shoved the loose bills into your crossbody. You’d sort through them later. Lastly, you popped the cap off the bottom of your salt lamp. There was a pre-paid Visa you bought several months beforehand waiting for you. With trembling hands, you grasped it and whispered a gratitude to the Universe before tucking it neatly into the back pocket of your Levi’s.

When it was all said and done and everything was loaded into your car, you focus on the hole in the dry wall one last time.

Never again.

Billy was complacent throughout the entirety of the event. You glared at him while he continued to soothe himself with drugs and alcohol, refusing to own up to the irreversible damage he caused your little family.

“SIS,” Max boomed from outside. “LET’S GO!”

A part of you used to pity Billy, but now his destructive behavior took away any ounce of guilt you felt for leaving him.

You never fought back until you had no other choice. Similarly, and tragically, Billy shared that very sentiment.

Who the villain is in the narrative relied solely on whose lens you are looking through.

It took you by surprise all the time. How could identical twins, who grew up in the same environment, end up so different from one another?

“I love you, though you hurt me so. Now I’m gonna pack my things and go." - Tainted Love by Soft Cell

There are two wolves inside of everyone.

——————————𓇼——————--------

"Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you" - DNA by Lia Marie Johnson

The heart-wrenching ballad by Lia Marie Johnson dissolves as you crank the dial to the left. Music is always depressing when Max has the aux chord.

"Did you hear what I said?" you question her.

Max abruptly sits up and reorients herself, attempting to shrug off the trance “DNA” had put her in for a few minutes.

"No, sorry. What'd you say again?"

"Do you need a bathroom break?"

"I'll go at the airport.”

"Okay, but if you change your mind and decide to take a leak one last time, I'll be happy to oblige.”

Swami’s is also an exit away and you’re just fixing for a hot meal before takeoff. But you don’t directly say that. Besides, Max loses her appetite when she’s upset and may only have room for shitty airplane food.

“I’ll just eat on the plane.”

Stale pretzels and flat soda it is.

Despite the decrease in appetite, Max is holding up well. As well as anyone-who-was-nearly-stabbed-by-her-brother-and-is-now-moving-states-away-from-everything-she’s-ever-known-with-her-sister could be.

It wasn’t your first choice to leave California. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid it. But nonetheless, anyone with a conscious and only $4,000 to their name would make the wise decision to move away to somewhere more affordable.

Enter your online friend, Robin.

Working ungodly hours six days a week to pay the bills took up so much of your time that you had no friends in San Diego — albeit high school friends who would have never guessed how you and Billy turned out. Those friends had happy families anyway. They couldn’t hold space for you. Your online friend Robin, who you met on an art forum, however knew your family dynamic and was there for everything. But she lived in Indiana with her partner and was never able to offer you any physical comfort.

You entertained Robin’s idea of moving to where she lives, a small town in Indiana called Hawkins just 20 minutes southeast of the city. Living under the radar to get your ducks in a row seemed like such a perfect plan, but you didn’t want to do so at the expense of Max losing her only support system she had outside of you.

Moving would’ve also meant pulling her out of school, which wouldn’t be possible because Billy was her legal guardian. Now that she’s graduated high school, and today is her 18th birthday, the game has changed completely.

“Donovan texted me happy birthday,” Max reports, finally disclosing a fragment of her inner conscience. “Thought it was sweet.”

You can’t help but smile. "You thought he wouldn’t?”

She refrains from rolling her eyes and shifts them towards the rocky beach cliffs outside her window.

“You know,” you add. “I really think you two could make long distance work. I’ve never seen so much chemistry between two people before.”

Max scoffs. "Yeah right. Long distance with a guy going to Santa Barbara for college?” She fiddles with the strings of the knit poncho resting atop her lap. “I'd be breaking my own heart."

You bite your lip to stop the waterworks. Max doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to enjoy bonfires with her skater friends, surf all the tubular waves, and go on all the nature hikes without worrying about her stepbrother’s codependent-fits-of-rage waiting for her when she comes home. She deserves to eat fried funnel cake at the county fair and share a kiss with the boy of her dreams atop a Ferris wheel on the 4th of July. She deserves a San Diego summer, not a summer spent in hiding from her abuser in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

Max decides to change the subject.

“So what’s Robin like? Your online friend.”

“She’s very sweet,” you breathe. “Been, uh, telling her about Billy for a long time now. Her arms have been open since day one.”

“And her girlfriend?”

“Vicky’s the best,” you insist. “A match made in heaven for sure. It’s like they’re the same person, just different font.”

You get a giggle out of Max. Her laughter during such a turbulent time is like music to your ears. The non-depressing kind.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get you a gift this year.”

She side eyes you.

“What are you talking about? You quite literally gave me the best gift of all.”

“Did I? What did I give you?”

“You gave me safety.”

And with that, you give yourself a mental pat on the back, confident you made the right choice despite how foreign everything currently felt. The conversation dies down while you and Max ride on, driving further and further away from the Park and Ride you spent the night at, off Coast Highway, and onto the I-5 one last time.

Boarding the plane is a swift process. Your plane is a two-seater, so Max gets the window and you get the aisle. After receiving your snacks and drinks, you decide to play white noise and dissociate for the next five hours. It’s safe to do so, anyways. Liminal spaces were not something you took for granted.

Meanwhile, Max looks out the window, watching as the world she has come to know her whole life shrinks right before her eyes, before disappearing underneath a quilt of soft white cumulus clouds.

“This is 18.”

Goodbye, San Diego.

—————— ✈︎ ———————

Hello, Hawkins.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Robin incites, trudging through the miscellaneous projects that sit at her feet. “As if we weren’t DIY freaks enough, the pandemic really just amplified that.”

The pandemic was a hard time for everyone. You lost your fine dining gig and abruptly switched to UberEats to adjust to the flow of takeout. Billy couldn’t go to the gym, his happy place, and it took a toll on him mentally. Max broke quarantine multiple times to see Donovan, which didn’t sit well with your brother. He of course lashed out on her and also proclaimed that people like her were the reason why America hadn’t opened up yet.

“And I get no time at the gym!” Billy screamed. “So now I have to do this—��

You learned that a decent lamp costed $70 that night.

That wasn’t your first rodeo though. You and Billy grew up replacing furniture all the time. You two would gather up your money and spend it on replacing whatever needed replacing for Mom’s birthday. She always wanted to make your house feel like a home. Feel lived in. You and Billy thought you were heroes doing it, but it dawns on you now that you two were just babies.

“Oh!” Vicky interrupts. “Before we forget…”

You and Max watch her as she scrambles around, looking for something that she seemed ecstatic about.

“Happy birthday, Max!”

“No way, Kate Bush!” Max exclaims as she accepts the gift, an original Kate Bush vinyl record of her album Hounds of Love.

"Wow," you beam, rubbing your sister’s back. “Way to fuel her 80's hyperfixation, huh?"

“We found this at the thrift store,” Vicky boasted. “Knew we had to get it for ya.”

“It’s the real deal too," Robin adds. "Look, printed 1985.”

“It’s perfect,” Max gushes. “Can’t wait to play it on my Crosley.”

She thanks them both and hugs them before running back to the living room to get the rest of your belongings. You listen as she hums some of Kate Bush’s discography along the way.

You then observe Max as she unpacks her things one by one, slightly peppered with remnants of the California sand and the snobby fee it took to ship it all here via cargo. She then proceeds to sit on the new bed to check the springing quality, testing its bounce factor and comparing it to that of her old bed.

You let out a bittersweet sigh.

Suddenly you're eight years old, doing the same thing at the local motel Mom managed to snag a couple nights from when Dad trashed the house.

You turn to look in the mirror atop your new dresser.

Suddenly, you're Mom. Quite literally. You both have the same wavy blonde hair, scattered freckles across your nose that Billy used to call “stardust”, and the same tsunami blue eyes. It makes it no wonder why you and Dad never got along. You are Mom’s spitting image — and Billy is Dad’s.

Funny how life turns out.

You graze the crows feet at the outer corner of your eyes, realizing now how many years have silently passed you by, and then take note of the stress-defined scars in the form of eye baggage from all the sleepless nights that came as a souvenir.

You’ve put up with so much. For so long. The trauma is starting to manifest itself physically.

Robin snaps you back into present day. "So I was thinking we go to Applebee's for dinner, walk around Old Town, get you guys settled and unpacked when we return, Jenga at night, and then-"

She stops when she sees the horrified expression on your face.

“Hey…” the pitch in her comforting, raspy voice heightens. “What’s the matter?”

Your voice breaks. “It’s…” you manage. “It’s been a lot.”

Robin pats your back. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Without looking, Robin snags a few tissues from a box laying around and gives them to you. You blot the tears away, careful not to mess up the makeup you had on with the intention to make you look less…dead.

“Sue didn’t even call and wish her happy birthday. Her own mother.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robin repeats.

“Every day I watch Max store her trauma in the box... and just shove it into the corner where it gathers dust,” you continue. “If she doesn't unpack it..."

You didn’t even want to think of the collateral damage you and your brother caused her. A part of you wants to think Maxine has remained untouched from that side of you, but the dry blood on her outer brow was a reminder that it was far too late to shelter her from that.

"You see yourself in her."

"And my mom in myself,” you admit. “Now more than ever.”

You rub your eyes.

“I’m rambling, I know. It’s just… SO aggravating. Max deserves better.”

“She’s handling it really well.”

“We don’t know that. I know Max. She’s a pro at hiding her feelings.”

“She’s being strong for you, like you are for her. It’s very endearing, whether you both admit it to each other or not.”

She rubs your arm.

“For as long as Vicky and I are here, you and Maxine have a soft place to land. We are here for you. Y’all are safe.”

You two glance over at Max, who is now unpacking your Zen Basics Himalayan salt lamp. She sets it on top your new bedside table, a reupholstered one whose old wood was painted over by an earthy olive green, the old hardware replaced by eccentric shaped, neutral-toned knobs. Her Crosley sits on your floor, now playing a track off Kate Bush's vinyl while she stares out the window. Your new view for the foreseeable future.

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?

Tripping on the water like a laughing girl

Time in her eyes is spawning past life

One with the ocean and the woman unfurled

Holding all the love that waits for you here

Catch us now for I am your future

A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land.

Dinnertime comes fast, but you blame it on the time zone difference. You call shotgun and ride with Robin in the passenger seat, catching up with your best friend while Vicky and Max watch YouTube shorts in the backseat.

Robin gives you a backstory of everything you pass on the way to Applebees, from the schools to churches to family-owned gas stations. She and Vicky seem to know everyone by a first-name basis, naming random people off and knowing exactly who that is every so often. You try to stay engaged, but the only thing on your mind is where you’re going to apply for a job.

Robin drives into a plaza next.

"This used to be a mall, but now it's completely empty," Robin continues pointing to an empty building with remnants of a star symbol etched on it. "E-commerce really turned this strip into a ghost town."

"So basically, if I wanted a job, it would have to be any of these food places, an office of sorts, or an off-brand Blockbuster store?"

"Family Video is closing too," Vicky chimes in. "It's sad. But I guess Hawkins needs yet another overpriced coffee shop."

"You could always work at the gentlemen's club," Max jokes, pointing off to the side.

You turn to where she’s pointing and take note of the matte black rectangular building by the Sizzler’s. It didn’t seem out of place, but the silhouette of an exotic dancer with devil horns gave the sinister establishment away. You couldn’t read the name of the club, but a part of you tries to.

Robin slightly turns and nods in that direction. "Oh yeah. I heard the girls there make bank in tips."

“I made bank in La Jolla doing fine dining,” you point out. “Maybe I can do the same thing here. But at a similar establishment.”

“Fanciest restaurant you’ll get here is Benny’s,” Vicky says. “You’re gonna have to go to the city for fine dining. I don’t think the commute is worth.”

“Guess stripper is your best option,” Max nudges you.

You shoot a glare her way. “Very funny.”

"I know, I was joking," she scoffs. "Billy would kill you anyways."

Billy would literally go insane if you dared to work at a strip club. The slut-shaming would never end. Not that he never slut-shamed you anyway. There was always something for him to be misogynistic and hypocritical about.

Then it hits you. Billy isn't here. And you really need the money since in this day and age, $4,000 meant nothing. You peer over at the gentlemen's club one last time as it shrinks out of view the further Robin drives.

HELLFIRE.

-----------𓆩♡𓆪------------

Dungeons & Dragons.

Of course one of the very few strip clubs in Hawkins has to be the dorkiest.

But you understand the vision. Beyond the cobblestone entrance, the veil between real life and fantasy thins.

As you near the club with nothing but a purse and car keys in hand, you notice that there’s already security by the door. You’re surprised to see a leaner guy, tall and slender with soft blonde hair and a soft grin to match. He catches sight of you and greets you with a nod.

“Good afternoon,” he says. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you nod. You reach for your wallet and give him your ID. Typical screening process. “Yourself?”

“Not too shabby,” he replies.

He examines your ID card. You notice his surprise when his eyes slightly widen before retracting shortly after. You guess that he was wondering why you are here out of all places. You peer over at his name tag while he concludes his screening. Henry.

Upon verification of your identity, the friendly security guard returns your card to you.

“Let me give you a wrist band.”

He motions for you to hold an arm out. You extend your right arm to him and watch as he gracefully pulls a paper wristband out of his pocket, clasping it into place with the side that read “21+” facing upwards.

You take the time to admire the gentleness of this man. The softness of his face. His dreamy gaze.

“Any weapons on you?”

“Uh…” you stammer. “Just pepper spray?”

A laugh escapes from his nostrils. “That’s fine, my dear.”

“I hope I don’t have to use it.”

“Don’t worry, darling. Under my watch, you won’t.”

Henry gently strokes your hand before motioning you inside.

“Enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” you smile politely.

It’s a slow afternoon, but granted no one goes to a strip club at 2 PM. The Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club was comprehensively laced with playful innuendos. The accent wall by the entrance showcases an array of chains and handcuffs. Kukris, nun-chucks, and flails all of different variants and sizes are displayed on the walls, the point of balance being a vintage pulp print of a metal puppeteer. On the print, "OBEY YOUR MASTER" is written in edgy bubble letters.

Kinky.

And there’s a bonus of this themed club: the ladies are dressed in cloaks. You watch as beautiful women from all walks of life strut around the joint, leaving the clients with only their imagination to guess what’s underneath the tantalizing, medieval velvet.

There are LED signs that lit up corners of the space, indicating what they were for. KAS’ KORNER: GRAB A BITE, DRAGON'S BREATH: HOOKAH LOUNGE, and POTIONS — the bar.

You catch a glimpse of the private show rooms, or at least what you think are the private show rooms.

The LED sign to those rooms read, "I PUT A SPELL ON YOU AND NOW YOU'RE MINE."

The general seating area for the main event reads VECNA’S LAIR.

The Dungeon Master of this joint thought of every possible detail he could and ironed it into perfection.

Surely, someone who truly plays would adore every aspect of all the details, but it was evident that everyone came here for the same reason:

Girls, girls, girls.

You walk over to the bar to see two men conversing behind it.

One looked to be in his late 20s, with scruffy chestnut brown hair, some tired eyes, peach fuzz, and a patterned shirt decorated in a kaleidoscope of colors — a shirt meticulously calculated by quite possibly a girlfriend.

The other looked like he had another year left before being allowed to be behind that counter... of course judging by the “Hawkins High School class of 2021” on his insulated water bottle in his hand, a cracked iPhone in the other, and Beats with a small basketball sticker on it.

When you appear in their periphery, the conversation between the two gradually comes to a stop.

“Whoa,” the younger man hums. “New face. Welcome.”

“Hi. What do you recommend?”

“In terms of what?” the younger man questions slyly. There’s a timidness to the young man’s spirit, making his flirtatious demeanor somewhat dorky. The age appropriate bartender nudges him.

“Drinks, hotshot,” you refrain from chuckling. “Drinks.”

“Depends what you’re into,” the younger man replies, the slyness continuing. “If you’re into light liquors, Jonathan can make you a mean Cîroc with pineapple juice. But if you’re more into the dark stuff…”

He gestures up and down on himself.

“Then look no further.”

“That was very painful to listen to,” the older one who you assume is Jonathan cringes. “Can you get anymore corny?”

“Ta-ha!” the younger one tsks. “He said could I get any more corny. Can you get any more bitchless?”

“I have a girlfriend, Lucas.”

“Emphasis on the singular sense.”

“Nance is all I need.”

"Nancy is all you can pull," Lucas chuckles. "With that goofy ass shirt, man. Stop playing with me."

So you weren’t the only one who thought the shirt was absolutely ridiculous. It had "Bad Bitch Repellant" written all over it.

Jonathan whacks Lucas with the cloth that was sitting atop his shoulder. You request a double Tito’s straight on the rocks from Jonathan to which he automatically starts to make. Lucas continues to interrogate you.

“As you heard, my name is Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.” He extends his hands to you. “But my favorite ladies call me 'Dark Chocolate'. You can call me, 'The Man of Your Dreams' though.”

You take the youngster’s hand in yours and shake it. His heavy locker room cologne makes your nose swell, an uneven mix of what you believe is Axe and — is that Dior?

You tell Lucas your name then hit him with a, “But you can call me ‘When You’re Thirty’.”

Lucas laughs at your joke, beaming up at you as he does so. Then he nods to communicate a gracious fair enough. The flirting, you could sense, was in good nature, playful.

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs. “Do you have a younger sister by any chance?”

“Oh in your dreams, mister.”

Jonathan chuckles and rubs Lucas’s back.

"That’s enough man, can you go buss that table over there?"

Lucas gives a thumbs up before putting his Beats on and walking away. You divert your attention back to Jonathan who is now done with making your drink.

“Alright… I got a Tito’s double shot — straight — on the rocks,” Jonathan announces as he slides your vice on over. He studies you as you take the drink and request to keep the tab open. “I’m inclined to ask. Are you okay?”

When you’re not around Billy, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It wouldn’t hurt to trauma dump on a stranger. Especially one who asked.

“Pretty far from okay,” you answer before chugging it. “Can’t you tell? It’s 2PM and I’m consoling…” You slosh the drink around in your hand. “…my man Tito.”

“I see that.”

“It’s been a long day,” you continue. “It’s my second day in Hawkins so I thought I’d scope this place out. Dilly dally for a bit.”

“Second day?” Jonathan questions. “As in��ever?”

“Yeah, just moved here.”

The bartender looks around as if he’s missed something. “But…why?”

It’s a fair reaction. If the welcome sign is correct, Hawkins only has a population of 1,314 people. 1,316 now including you and Maxine.

“My friend lives here and convinced me to make the move,” is what you explain, though it only seems to make Jonathan more confused. “Couldn’t take the heat Cali was dishing out. Hawkins seemed like the perfect place to slow down.”

“Oh man,” Jonathan mutters. “California to here, what a change.”

“You lived here long?”

“Lived here my whole life,” he answers as a matter of factly.

“What made you get a job at Hellfire?”

Jonathan didn’t have to think. “I love booze.”

You laugh together, raising your half-empty class to clink his invisible one.

“I hate 9-5s,” Jonathan draws on. “Working from home ‘bout damn near drove me insane, don’t know how my mom does it with such ease. My boss here smokes me out on occasion and my friends make me nachos.” He smiles. “Can’t think of anything better.”

“There we go.”

"I’ve also just been looking out for women my whole life," he adds. "Bout time I get some financial compensation for it, no?"

“Amen to that,” You chug the last of your drink. “Thanks for your service.”

"Pleasure is mine. Anything else I can do for ya?"

You think. "Hm, probably not you, but maybe the hiring manager can do something for me."

"You're looking to work here?" he clarifies as you nod. "Oh sweet, you're going to wanna talk to Eddie. He's the owner."

"And a dweeb," says a significantly younger looking fellow as he slides into the conversation.

“Here we go.”

In front of you now is a gentleman around Lucas’s age with wild curly brown hair. You watch as he helps himself to a club soda, dunking three large wedges of lemon into his cup as well.

The guy offers you a playful, pearly white grin. “Eddie may own a nice club with some smokin' hot babes, but he's got no game whatsoever."

“Hey Dustin.”

“Sup, man.”

“You think so?" you challenge him.

"I know so,” the boy who you now know as Dustin insists. “Can't talk up a chick to save his life."

"Yeah," Jonathan says, half-jokingly. "He's the bitchless one."

Dustin glances between you both, slightly puzzled.

You shake your head. "No way."

"I wouldn't say he's that bad," Dustin says. "I actually think he's seeing someone casually. But in general, dude's got zero rizz."

"Projecting are we?" Jonathan nudges him.

“HELL. NO.” Dustin booms. You attempt to refrain from laughing. “My game is what got me the baddest gal at science camp. Eddie? Clumsy as hell, stutters on his words, he's got the anxiety level of someone who drinks cold brew on an empty stomach… Now that I say it out loud, I think he does drink cold brew on an empty stomach. Some chicks dig it though, which is good for him.”

Curly was fun to observe. Once he’s done talking down on the club owner, Dustin politely walks over and shakes your hand, bowing to you like you’re a princess of sorts. You later find it that like Lucas, Dustin works as a bus boy and server, and his girlfriend makes sure that he remains in Kas’ Korner at all times. Dustin has about two years left before legally being permitted behind the POTIONS bar, but that doesn’t stop him from using it as his own storage shed.

You watch as he grabs some deodorant and hair pomade from an old shoe box under the counter.

“Anyways, later,” Dustin holds up a peace sign, starting towards the door. “I'm not on today, I'm just hitting the gym with Steve."

“Later, man!” Jonathan calls after him.

“Deuces. Say hello to Dark Chocolate for me.”

Before he could get any further, the loud swinging of a door closeby causes him to halt in place.

“ALRIGHT!” a loud, gruff voice booms from that direction. “Which one of you shitheads forgot to take inventory on the 10th?!”

You can’t help but turn your body towards the ruckus. And to your own pleasant surprise, you don’t regret it. Emerging from the door comes the possible shift lead, a tall and broad man with medium length wavy brown hair, chocolate-colored, youthful doe eyes that contradicted the deep lines on his face, bleach white Chuck Taylor’s, ripped black jeans, and a Hellfire Club baseball tee with the logo smack-dab in the middle.

The man looked to be in his mid to late 20s, with an assertiveness in his stride. His lips, a perfectly formed bow with a smirk-like undertone. The cool rings that rest upon his fingers look icy as they sway at his side, shining in contrast to his dark clothing.

The man is too tunnel-visioned to see where he was going. But that doesn’t stop Dustin from looking absolutely mortified.

“The 10th and the 11th,” the man clarifies. “So for all we know, we might need new kegs and ground chili, which is one more thing I have to d-”

Finally he looks up, with you being the first thing he sees. Proximity taking him aback, he snaps out of his stress-induced trance and softens up at the sight of you. You meet his eyes, big and beautiful with long wispy lashes and you can’t help but mimic the flutter in your heart in the form of a smile.

“Whoa.” He says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Whoa, indeed.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s Eddie’s first day back, he tends to get a little in the zone,” Dustin explains.

Eddie.

Does that mean…

“Are you the hiring manager?”

You didn’t know who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in front of you. He must be proud of himself, having such a successful business so early in the game.

Eddie gathers himself quickly.

“Dungeon Master, hiring manager, manager, owner, sanitations, re-stocker,” Mr. Jack-of-all-trades confirms. “I do it all.” He grimaces at Dustin. "Since you know, some people don't wanna work."

"You said I can have off!" Dustin exclaims defensively. "I worked for you before the weekend already and I wasn’t even on the 10th and 11th, fuck outta here."

All it takes is a scowl his way from the boss and Dustin is radio silent. The look on Eddie's face definitely said "Watch your tone". Eyes are all on you once more soon after.

Eddie’s gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Were you…looking to apply?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “As a dancer. I’d like to perform here.”

“You don’t sound too confident.”

“Some guys like shy girls,” you shrug.

He laughs, a dark honey kind of laugh that just oozed from the back of his throat. “That they do.” His voice deepens drastically. Eddie studies you. “Any dancing experience?”

“Dancing, yes.”

“Stripping experience?”

“None.”

“Hm,” Eddie says. “What do you have experience in?”

“I danced for a bit…I have good core strength,” you explain vaguely. “And I’ve worked in the restaurant industry so I’d say customer service is my superpower.”

Eddie soaks in the information.

“I know how to talk to people,” you continue. “I know the right things to say. Favorite pass time is upselling drinks. And dessert…”

You wait for Eddie to take the low hanging fruit. He doesn’t.

"Any experience with the pole?”

Your cheeks grow hot. You decide to lie.

"No.”

“Kinda essential for this profession, sweetheart.”

"I know," you respond humbly. "I wouldn’t doubt it for a second..." you scan the room. “So uh, do I need a permit to perform here?”

“Nah, Hawkins is a lawless wasteland pretty much,” he sighs placing his hands on his hips. “And my club does things a little different anyways. The ladies also don’t pay to perform, we pay them to.”

Shit. Strippers pay to perform at venues?

“The dining experience is what brings the base revenue in,” Lucas explains, returning from wherever he had been. “The ladies are a luxury.”

“And should be treated as such,” Jonathan chimes in.

“I take it you don’t work at any other clubs?” Eddie questions judging by your wide eyes attempting to take in every bit of information that has been dumped on you. The man sees right through your mask.

“No, but I-”

“I personally like to give everyone a chance,” Eddie says. “So don’t worry babe, you’re good. Even though you don’t have any experience, your energy tells me that you have potential. Wanna show us what you can do?”

Your heart sinks. The handsome club owner called you babe. And you’re also being asked to perform with the little experience you have — in front of girls who had tons of experience.

“Here? Now?”

Eddie nods.

You weren’t prepared to dance today. But with your sister and the mountain of debt on your mind, you are willing to do anything. So you walk over to Jonathan and tell him what song you feel most comfortable performing to and stretch as he takes the time to find it. When all is said and done, you make your way to the icy pillar made of chrome steel that was calling for your attention.

You exhale deeply.

Back to the old stomping grounds. The last time you worked with a pole you were wearing Heeley’s and light up sneakers. Of course in place of the horny spectators there were playground supervisors, and the only “bars” there were monkey bars. Oh, and you were 8, not 28.

The slut-shaming still existed, though. One time a boy told you that you were acting like a ‘hoe’ for trying to do a trick upside down. To Billy’s retaliation though. Before you knew it, the same boy was being shoved down and dragged across the wood chips, acquiring a series of splinters along the way. Admin phoned home. You and Billy got spanked. But, of course, Billy had no regrets. While you both cooled off together, you remember him grazing your hand, telling you he’d beat that kid up “a gajillion times over”.

He kept that promise. Except as you two grew older, it was you he was doing it to. A gajillion times over.

You laugh at the bittersweet nostalgia.

“Whenever you’re ready, babe,” Eddie says.

You give Jonathan a thumbs up to play your song selection. Soon, Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club is filled with the catchy, seductive tune that is Layla by Eric Clapton.

You start with a small stroll around the pole. Then a dramatic dip to flaunt your bouncy golden locks. Soon, the women of Hellfire gather around with the men following soon after to watch you work your magic in Vecna’s crowded Lair.

If muscle memory is in your favor, they are in for a good show.

What will you do when you get lonely

No one waiting by your side?

You've been running, hiding much too long

You know it's just your foolish pride

Eddie claims a seat at a throne directly in front of the pole. He studies your technique, your movements, your facial expressions. You aren’t sure if reality is projecting onto you or if you’re dizzy from all the spinning, but you almost see a slight smile spread across the club owner’s face. It prompts you to keep going.

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

It’s a lot harder, your techniques and tricks. Most likely since you weigh more than 50 pounds now and had to exert more energy to keep yourself balanced an aligned. But nonetheless, you persist.

Tried to give you consolation

Your old man had let you down

Like a fool, I fell in love with you

You turned my whole world upside down

You buck your hips upward from you back arch to go into an upside down position. It earns you some hooting and cheering from the crowd.

“You better work, mamas!” a dancer cheers.

“I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT!”

“YOU GO GIRL!”

“YAAAS!”

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, I'm begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

Eddie watches intently, leaning backwards with his hands clasped forward. You feel his eyes burn through you, from the top of your head down to your toes. You feel as if he’s mentally scoring you like you’re at a competition, but the sisterhood that cheers you on makes you feel slightly less intimidated.

“SHE’S SO GOOD!” comes a high-pitched voice in the crowd. “I FREAKING LOVE HER!”

You turn to look at your own personal cheerleader, a bright-eyed cute little redhead with pigtails with an outfit that looks like an ode to Britney Spears’ “Hit Me Baby One More Time”. She has cherry hair ties that hold her two pigtails at the bottom.

You watch her clap and jump up and down, cheering you on with a beam in her eyes that made you feel like your souls have been friends for decades.

Motivated to attempt more risqué moves, you jump into the splits before kicking your legs around to end on your knees.

Clapping and whistling erupts from the lair. Once it dies down, Eddie stands up, offering you a delighted series of slow claps as he makes his way towards you.

"That was really good, Shy Girl. I like how you finished your set."

“Aw, thanks Eddie.”

He walks around you.

"Go like this?" Eddie does a stretching motion, lifting his hand up.

You imitate him and reach up.

"Okay, and... turn like this? Then pop your ass out a bit more."

The word rolled off the club owner's tongue like it was nothing. It was done in a way that was professional, a hint of respect in his tone with no sort of ulterior motive.

You swallow hard, attempting to internally tame the goosebumps on rising upon your skin. He’s just giving feedback, he’s just giving feedback. This is a professional line of work.

You do as he says as he circles around you, fingers grazing on the cool floor of the stage just inches away from your thighs. He taps them in thought.

"For a beginner you’re pretty damn good,” he says.

“Yeah?” you look up at him and smile.

“Yeah,” his voice deepens. “You’re a natural. All that shyness just went away.”

Well, it’s about to return, you think to yourself.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Not in this specific setting.”

There’s a slight shift in his eyes as his imagination wanders. The dimples at the side of his mouth concave slightly.

“I gotcha.”

Eddie clears his throat. “So uh, when can you start?”

Today is Wednesday. You have tomorrow, Friday, and the weekend to settle you and Max in and make any last minute stops. Then the appointment with the other loan officer and DMV appointment on Monday. Tuesday afternoons are dry — everywhere so that left the earliest you can start as

"Next Tuesday? In the evening?"

A soft snort escapes from the club owner’s nose.

"Driest night of the week," he comments, looking around his club.

He turns back to you.

"But a good time for orientation. Works for me, Shy Girl. Can I call you that?”

You smirk. “So I got the job?”

He nods.

“Then you can call me what you want,” you smile shaking his hand. “In this case I’m Shy Girl Hargrove.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles. He knows you’re flirting. Eddie accepts your hand and shakes it firmly.

“Eddie. Pleased to formally meet you. And welcome to Hellfire.”

You two exchange contact information for professional purposes before he leaves. You study Eddie as he sees himself out, planting a firm, teasing smack on Lucas’s stomach on his way and whispering something to Jonathan as well.

Your cheerleader from the crowd excitedly makes her way over.

“I know a dancer slash gymnast when I see one,” she chirps. “I’m Chrissy. Stage name is Cherry.”

You two shake hands and exchange further compliments with one another. Your heart swells when you realize you’re slowly starting to find community.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Others come and say hello, but you’ve tuned out all the faces because all you can think about is Eddie. His demeanor. The way he carries himself. His presence alone was something so intoxicating that it lingered around the place in his absence.

Your heart flutters.

“Oh, Hargrove!” Jonathan says. “Before you go I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry about the drink.”

“Oh?” you respond. “No?”

“Eddie says it’s on the house.”

You smile and Jonathan returns the favor, making sure you see him when he voids your entire tab. As you wave bye to all your spectators, you release a grateful sigh. You felt very humbled about this new, yet unexpected beginning.

The happiness soon wears off when the events that just unfolded dawn on you. Suddenly, the flutter in your heart moves to your stomach, settling in a way that feels eerie. The unknown is pestering you again. Wrong, but oh so right and necessary.

You take in the area around you. You have a place to call home. You’re a stripper now. Your boss just bought your drink. You’re going to have money coming in. Oh, and YOU’RE A STRIPPER NOW.

Then it dawns on you. You need to go shopping.

#Spotify #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #hellfire club #Eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie munson fics

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inknopewetrust · 2 years

Text

oh, baby.

Summary: You and Eddie raise a baby… however, you’re not a couple and the baby isn’t real. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 7k ] Warnings: takes place at the beginning of season 2, language. Quick Links: Masterlist

"And this," Mr. Allen walked up and down each row with the most serious face. Everyone else, all the students, were plagued with potential trauma at the preface of the assignment; "this is your only priority for the next week—including this weekend and the next."

You felt a cool breeze waft as he walked past your desk, continuing on forward as Steve Harrington audibly protested his instruction. The supposed "King of Hawkins High" wasn't impressed with having to take care of a child… well, a plastic one at that.

"Mr. Allen," he began from his spot in the second row from the door. All you could see was the brown poof of hair that he had become notable for. "I don't see why we can't just start this on Monday. We've got plans… there's a football game tonight!"

There were a few agreeing hums, mostly from the said football players in the room, but it wasn't as though they would be taking part in the assignment when they were on the field. Their partners would be left alone to deal with an unpredictable toy while they tossed pigskin for three hours for fun.

"And besides," Steve continued as Mr. Allen walked back to the front of the room, setting the baby down on his desk and grabbing two plastic bowls he had scavenged from home, "Halloween is next weekend! I bet we all already have plans…"

Steve turned around in his seat and looked around the room. He saw his peers watching him carefully, some in support and others in vague concern that he would get them in further conflict by having the task take up the whole month instead of a week and a half. He glanced over you hoping that being Nancy's childhood friend would spur a call within you to support him but alas, you would not give him the satisfaction.

In the back of the room, Steve's eyes landed squarely on one sole person. He chewed on his lip before turning around.

"Hell, I bet even Munson's got plans. You know we're all busy when he's actually doing something."

At that same moment, Eddie Munson had been sitting with his legs extended through the empty chair in front of him and his arms crossed against his chest. Even if he didn't want to be there in the slightest, Steve Harrington going on a tangent in the middle of senior health class intrigued him. And when his name slipped past the hair's lips, Eddie's face contorted. Eyes narrow and slightly offended. The new kid, Billy Hargrove, laughed as he twirled his pencil. He had been there for two weeks and had swept Eddie’s weed supply clean in a matter of days.

Eddie actually didn't have plans other than Hellfire on Friday, but he couldn't say that out loud. In fact, he didn't say anything. He had an inkling someone would call him to deal at whatever party everyone was going to, but unless it happened, he was staying in and getting stoned himself.

Everyone's head turned toward him and he forgot the real reason he didn't skip that hour. They were all judgemental. He was an oddity to them. You even glanced over your own, three rows in front of him and to the right.

When he caught your gaze, you were the only one to look at him like a real human being, a person, not a freak. Just simple curiosity because everyone else had. You gave him a tiny, empathetic smile before turning back around and he found himself staring at the back of your head after it happened. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Mr. Harrington," Mr. Allen placed one of the bowls he was holding onto Steve's desk, "Nothing's changing. I've conducted this role-play for ten years and it is not changing because you, or anyone else in this class, has plans that don't fit the lifestyle of what it means to be a parent."

He pointed to the bowl before placing the other on a girl named Lisa's desk, "Steve, you pick the boys and Lisa here will pick the girls," he turned his attention back to the room as Steve ran a frustrated hand through his hair. A couple of the girls around you groaned, whispering to one another that the system was rigged because they knew they could no longer pick their partners.

"No picking partners. I'm letting the magic bowls choose them for me. No debating, no arguing. I don't care if you think your partner is bad or not, you will complete this task together. Who knows," he laughed at the looks of the students, "maybe you'll find a new friend through all of this."

“Go ahead, Steve,” he ordered, leaning against his desk with ankles crossed and an amused smile playing at his elderly lips. Glasses perched near the end of his nose, Steve huffed at him and tucked his hand away into the bowl and ruffled the slips of paper.

And like luck, Steve Harrington pulled his own name first. Eddie smiled in satisfaction at that–knowing that there was a chance Steve would most certainly be paired with someone he didn't want after he called him out in class. He hoped Billy would have the same fate too. Hell, everyone who looked at him like he was a fucking Martian from planet Mars.

The irony that Hargrove listened to the same music, smoked the same dope, and drove his car just as recklessly but remained at the top of the food chain at Hawkins High hadn’t escaped Eddie. Girls liked Billy; he played basketball, gave them cheeky smiles, and certainly did not play a fantasy game for fun. He was the antithesis of Eddie’s existence–but a bully and raging asshole too. Billy Hargrove was a piece of shit and it had taken Eddie two days in class to figure that out.

“And Steve will be paired with…” Mr. Allen waited for Lisa to mimic Steve’s draw and she unfolded the paper.

Lisa drew Tammy Thompson's name which could have been worse for Steve. It took 3 minutes for Steve to pull Billy Hargrove's name who was then paired with Kennedy Walker, the school's future valedictorian. The look on the poor girl’s face was sadly hilarious. Hargrove winked at her and she turned such a shade of red that she looked like a balloon. But before Eddie could ponder what an interesting pair that made, Steve sighed and pulled another name from the bowl.

Steve crinckled the thin strip of paper in his hand before tossing it onto his desk, "Munson," he looked at Mr. Allen who nodded as he did with each name.

"And the lucky partner?" Mr. Allen had to have been joking except there wasn't an ounce of teasing in his words. Lisa picked the name out of the bucket and unfolded it with her candy red nails. Then, she laughed. Her eyes crinkled at the side from what you could see as she sat in the first seat beside the door. She looked over her shoulder, directly at you in her line of sight and smiled like a wicked wench.

"Y/n L/n." Shit.

A few of the girls giggled, a couple of the guys whistled which had bristled the compass within you south. You didn't care that you had been paired with Eddie because of what people thought of him–the primary reason they were all bemused with the pairing–but rather at the possibility that he couldn't give two-shits about the assignment. It may have only been October but you had already caught him before two different classes being chastised by teachers for not doing his work. If he kept it up, they said, he wouldn’t graduate with his class.

"Off the hook, ladies," one of the girls on the cheer squad laughed, "Y/n's got him."

Lunch could not have arrived fast enough.

You rushed to the front of the line, grabbed your tray, and made a straight shot for the table you had taken an unassigned assigned seat at. Nancy wasn't there when you arrived so you just picked at your food, rolling the grapes in the small section they had been dumped into and watched the entrance like a hawk. Your leg bounced under the table with a tinge of nervousness, but the aggravation of failure was starting to eat you alive and it had only been an hour since Mr. Allen screwed over your grade. Slowly, the lunch room came to life and Nancy held her calculus book in one hand and purple lunch bag in the other.

Even she had a sour look on her face. Lips pursed and brow furrowed, her hand tightly clenched around the bag as the small gold promise ring from Steve shined in the harsh lighting of the room.

"You'll never believe who Mike gave my number to," Nancy huffed as she sat down; her lunch bag filled scarcely with a peanut butter and jelly and a bag of Cheetos. She had four sticks of cut up celery that you gagged at, not understanding how she could enjoy the stringy vegetable for fun.

"You'll never believe who I was partnered with for Allen's baby project," You stopped pushing around your food and she looked at you with heeded interest, her eyebrows drawn together and her wide eyes concerned.

"You first," you pointed a finger at her as she shifted in her seat. The others at the table started to sit down and engage in their own conversations–you had totally forgotten about watching the doorway to the lunchroom. "Keith?"

"From the arcade! The one who always," she scrambled her hands in front of her in frustration before letting out a groan, "he's always got his dirty fingers on the buttons and offers the kids soda way past a normal time."

There was not a day that went by where you did not think that Nancy Wheeler lived with the silver spoon, nay, stick, up her ass.

"All because of someone who broke Dustin's record of Dig Dug. Who does that!?" Nancy unzipped her bag and sure enough, a PB and J with a bag of Cheetos as a side with sticks of celery tucked in a plastic baggie.

"Maybe he's just playing matchmaker…" You stabbed a grape and popped into your mouth with a smile. "Steve was being an annoying shit in class today, so maybe, just maybe, you should be searching for someone else."

"When isn't he like that?" She laughed, "He's Steve Harrington for God's sake."

"Well, I think he's to blame for the luck I had in class today."

"Luck? You were just on the verge of complaining," she glanced quizzically at you, looking over your shoulder when a paper ball went flying in the direction of the table. "left," she said and you tilted to the left as the wad went flying past both your heads and ended up by the science club's table. It was a daily occurrence. "So, who's your partner?"

"Eddie Munson."

Nancy stopped trying to open the bag of Cheetos. "What?"

"Be glad you're not a senior yet, Nance… this project is going to be the death of me, I swear," your head found a home in your hands as you pushed the tray away from you.

"I'm going to fail it! There is no way I can get an A without a capable partner and then what? Will I have to repeat senior year because I failed health? HEALTH?" You exclaimed.

"You won't fail," she conceded. Placing the snack onto the table, she reached out and patted the side of your arm. "If it really gets bad you can always ask Steve."

"He's partnered with Tammy Thompson. There is no way he'd help me with what Allen said about these babies."

"What did he say? Where is the doll anyway?"

"Eddie's got it. Maybe I'll never see it again if I'm lucky," you removed your hands from the table and folded them in your lap as you told her the assignment requirements and what Mr. Allen had said to expect about the baby. As you talked, she picked at her food and the fruit off your tray as some of the girls from newspaper filled the seats around you.

"At least it doesn't actually, you know, pee or anything."

"But the sensor doesn't know that it isn't real. I don't even know how he got dolls so advanced… I had a flour baby when I was a kid and this is as close to a real baby as possible except it doesn't blink."

"Creepy," she mumbled before picking the bag back up.

"Very," you agreed and took a second to glance around the room. Some of the partners were already facing their first challenges. A few were trying to quell the crying, a couple sat together planning their week out so they could work together and have equal time, but when you looked at the table that normally held Hellfire, Eddie wasn't there.

"They all laughed when my name was called," Nancy's head quirked back up at you, "I don't care that he's my partner; that's not why I'm complaining, but this isn't going to be an easy week."

That was the truth—you didn’t care that Eddie was your partner because as a person, Eddie was not as bad as everyone labeled him to be. He was actually, in an admission that you’d take to your grave instead of tell Nancy, fairly handsome and interested the hell out of you. It was the work ethic and motivation that concerned you.

"People are just mean, Y/n," you nodded in agreement, "you just need to focus on the assignment and if you're lucky, like you always are," she peered into your soul with that jealousy, "everything will go swimmingly."

Nancy Wheeler knew she spoke too soon when the doors to the lunchroom flung open with flair. She jumped and turned around in her seat when she saw your soul escape from your eyes.

"Hey! Mama!"

Jesus Fucking Christ.

He was holding the doll by its back leg, letting it dangle from his hand as if it were that black, metal lunchbox you convinced yourself had drugs tucked away in it. Eddie was looking directly at your table as though he had been searching for you for hours.

“Did he just—“ Nancy cut herself off as she watched him make his way toward the table. A group of preps flipped him off on the way and he gladly returned the bird with glee.

“He just called me ‘mama.’”

You put an arm defensively covering your face, shielding your eyes away from him as the Hellfire table furthered his amusement by cackling at him. Nancy whipped her head back around to you and felt the embarrassment roll off.

“It’s only a week,” she reminded you, “only about a week.”

Eddie’s feet landed at the end of the table and the girls at the end went silent. He was standing there, holding the doll by its hind leg, and quirked his head to the side. His eyes were entertained at the way you had blocked yourself away from him. The call of ‘mama’ making your skin crawl and elating him from far away. He could push a few buttons without feeling bad about it.

“You embarrassed of me, L/n?” He feigned hurt, “what’s our kid gonna think when he learns his parents don’t get along?”

“It’s a doll, Munson,” your hand that had been blocking your face hit the table hard. “It has no memories and will certainly, never, ever, grow up.”

“If Allen heard you say that he’d give us an F,” he walked around the table and took a seat beside you, legs spread as they caged you in from the side and he plopped the baby on the table with a thud. Its head face down on the table as its poorly drawn on strands of hair faced the ceiling. He was wearing double denim. A jacket filled with pins and patches, a chain hung from one loop of his pants to another and the red flannel he wore underneath it was left open to reveal a t-shirt for a band you had never heard of—holes littered the neckline that sat beneath a silver chain.

Across from you, Nancy sat rigid as she watched the way Eddie’s eyes watched you. A small smile playing on his face as one of his hands found themselves in his lap and the other elbow perched on the table beside the doll.

“We should probably talk about this, huh?” He asked, surprising you by actually wanting to talk about the assignment. You turned your head and looked at him, eyes bemused by his willingness to do so. Eddie recognized that, scoffing and reaching inside of his jean jacket to grab a pack of cigarettes before tapping one out. He slipped them back in and stuck the one he plucked from the pack between his lips.

“You know,” he glanced at you, then Nancy, then back at you, “when a teacher tells us we have to work together, I don’t expect to do all the talking.” He lit the cigarette with a puff and the girls at the end of the table began to complain. No one was allowed to smoke in the cafeteria—only the teacher's lounge and well, that was reserved for teachers.

“How do I know you actually want to talk about this?” You countered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn in an assignment before.”

“You been takin’ notice of me, L/n?” He smiled wide, grabbing the cig with two fingers and tapping it onto the floor. “If you wanted to talk to me you could just do it, ya know? Don’t need to stare at me.”

“Wheeler,” he looked at Nancy who drew her brows together, the tight contortion of her face judging him without words. “You know your friend has been watching me? Should I put an ad in the paper for a bodyguard to protect me from my stalker?” Nancy didn’t reply because she had never held a conversation with Eddie before. She didn’t understand his humor, let alone the levity of his words as he blew smoke in her face and sat next to her best friend like a suave Casanova.

“Eddie,” you sighed, letting your gaze drift around the cafeteria and caught a few interested stares along with way. One teacher, Ms. Kirch–the freshman biology teacher with a hard-on for students willing to press her buttons—was walking around the perimeter on the other side. If she saw Eddie smoking, they’d both make a scene.

“I know you think school’s a joke but I’m not failing this just because you don’t want to do it.”

“Who said I don’t want to do this?” He furrowed his brows, shaking his head at you as he put the cigarette back to his lips. The red burning as he breathed in.

“Oh I don’t know… your attendance record, report cards, all previous group projects that I’ve never seen you show up for.”

“Those are all Ms. O’Donnell’s,” he defended, pointing a finger at you, “She’s a bitch and has it out for me.”

“I just want to know for sure that if we do this together, I won’t be left to do all the work at the end.”

Eddie saw the honesty in your eyes as you admitted it. He never truly understood what it meant to be an academic because it felt superficial. The attachment to good grades and praise that he never got, so, naturally, he never comprehended. You were a good student—a good person, rather. When he heard your name called after his and the snickers that followed, Eddie was reminded of the fact that you didn’t treat him like a ‘freak’ but a person. And hell, there was a first time for everything when he wanted to try something new. Completing a project because his partner didn’t treat him like dirt? Eddie could at least try it out.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He tapped the cigarette and the ash fell to the floor again. “If I’m going to graduate, I’ve gotta get this done too.”

You nodded slowly in observation. Eddie did not appear to be lying. That blasé attitude he had walked in with gradually decreasing the more you talked. Glancing again at Ms. Kirch who was directly across the room from you beside the table of jocks, the details of the week would be limited to a few seconds before she came charging over and causing a scene. You turned to the small stack of one notebook and history textbook that laid next to your tray. Ripping a paper out of it, you stole the pencil from Nancy’s stack and wrote down your address on it.

“Here,” you handed it to him and he looked over it with a smirk, “that’s my address and phone number. Kirch is going to bite your head off in a minute and we don’t have time to go over all the details so if you’re free later, stop over after school and we can divide everything out.” He knew where you lived. Three doors down from Gareth—his friend and band mate and also, another one of Hawkins’ finest on their way to repeating their final year of school and he was only a sophomore.

“Your parents aren’t gonna beat my ass or anything when I get there? I know I have a bit of a…” he clicked his tongue, tipping his head to the side, “reputation.”

The shrug you gave did not ease his concerns right away. However, the comment that followed made him realize that actually attempting to complete this project with you was a good thing. Maybe luck was finally giving him a chance.

“Not everyone in this town thinks you’re a freak, Munson,” you gave him a small smile, pointing your own finger to one of the buttons on his jacket, “besides, my dad’s favorite band is WASP. I think he’d like someone to talk about it with—even if just for a second.”

He smiled and Nancy Wheeler was taken aback by the scene in front of her. Seven minutes ago, you were in distress with the idea that Eddie Munson was going to be the worst partner imaginable and the cause of failure in senior health class. Now, you were offering him kind smiles and an invitation to your home with so much as his own words being enough to convince you that he wouldn’t leave you high and dry with an unpredictable doll.

Eddie grabbed the doll by its leg again, ready to escape before Kirch made her way but you could already hear her footsteps coming barreling your direction.

“I’ll take it now and bring it over later,” he nodded, sticking the cigarette between his lips again and letting it dangle there, “we should probably give it name instead of referring it as an ‘it.’”

“Mr. Munson!” That shrill voice made him cringe.

“Think about it. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He rose his eyebrows at you as if asking you to agree. You nodded, giving a small ‘yeah’ in response before he shot out of the seat.

“Mr. Munson, smoke outside if you must! Do you not understand the rules of this school?”

Behind you as he stood, Eddie turned toward Ms. Kirch. He let out a puff of smoke between his lips as her hand batted the fumes away from her face. The doll hanging on its one limb and swinging left to right as Eddie taunted her.

“Ms. Kirch,” he swooned, a few amused giggles sound from the tables around you as your head tipped over your shoulder, Eddie’s eyes flashed to yours as he played into her hand. “If you wanted to compliment my ability to break those so-called rules, you could at least have sounded excited to say it.”

“You put that out right now or you’ll be spending after school in detention and it’s going straight onto your record!”

“On my record!?” He laid his free hand on his chest, slowly backing up from where he was standing. Eddie was going to bolt because the old woman wouldn’t run after him. “Ms. Kirch, you know how much I respect my record,” he shook his head dramatically, hair vibrating with the shake as the bud sizzled again. “But, I have plans tonight so…”

The cigarette fell to the floor from his lips, cooling against the white tile as she went to protest. Eddie’s shoe squished it, extinguishing it, and once his foot lifted from the flattened cig, he ran. Ms. Kirch walked no more than two feet as brief laughter erupted in the area—sure they all made fun of Eddie and ostracized him from normal high school life but hell, if he didn’t bring a bit of joy to them when he pissed off the old lady that watched them all like a hawk in their freest period. A chuckle slipped out of you and she turned to you with a glare.

“Do you find this funny, Ms. L/n?”

She smelt like stale flowers and her lipstick was pearled in some spaces on her lips. Kirch was haggard and growing older every day.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head at her and turned back around. Nancy was sitting with wide eyes, scared of the woman who lingered for a moment behind you before running off to find a janitor to clean up.

“Shit,” Nancy muttered quietly.

“What?”

“He’s deranged, Y/n. Deranged.”

“It’s only about a week, right, Nance? Only about a week.”

And that week would be the most interesting week of your life.

Eddie came over as he said that afternoon after school. At your kitchen table before your parents got home from work, you both devised a plan on how to go about taking care of the doll—and as Eddie had asked, you tried to think of a name but that was harder than it proved to be. He said the first thing that popped into his head and that was unfortunately, Bilbo.

Bilbo. A doll named after Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit was the baby you had to take care of together.

It did not even matter that the doll was plastically formed with female anatomy because he said: “What’s in a name, anyway? It’s just a doll.”

So, Bilbo it was.

And Eddie offered to take it for the night because he had Hellfire on Friday’s when you had nothing, therefore you could swap in the morning and you’d go about the plan when the weekend arrived. The plan, however, was more than what you had originally believed needed to take place for the assignment. Nancy called you Thursday evening after Eddie had left to complain that Steve would be spending all of his free time helping Tammy with the doll and was blowing her off until Halloween—a whole week later. You hadn’t fully realized that what you and Eddie had planned to ensure that you’d both pass health this semester was essentially spending all of your time together [sans Tuesday when his band played at The Hideout and Friday when he had Hellfire].

You slept well Thursday with those thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. Nancy’s concerns were her concerns. She had confided in you that she and Steve were having issues anyway, so one more nail in the coffin did not appear to be as detrimental as she complained it was. If Steve and Nancy were on their final string, the end was imminent. When you woke on Friday, the first thing on your mind was how the night had gone for Eddie and if what Mr. Allen said was true about the babies, had he had an absolutely awful night being a ‘parent’ for the first time?

That question was answered rather quickly as you entered the hallway at seven-thirty.

“Mary! You can’t just leave me with the thing!”

“I am not taking it tonight!”

“It wants food and there’s no way to feed it!”

There were ‘couples’ fighting at every turn. As you passed Tammy Thompson’s locker, Steve looked like he wanted to pull his hair out.

“I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” He complained to her as he held the baby on his hip. It was a sight. Steve in his tight jeans and blue jacket, striped polo, to have a doll perched on his hip like it was real. Everyone was taking it seriously which made the entire situation feel less awkward and daunting.

You reached your own locker, twisting the combination while trying to snoop on Steve’s conversation five lockers down on your left.

“This thing never shuts up! I got no sleep last night and I don’t think I’ll even be able to go to the game tonight because I’m dragging ass!”

“Steve, come on…” Tammy trailed off because she had to sing the national anthem and could not bring the doll with her. But she should have—the doll could probably sing better than her.

“It’s not fair, Tammy!” Steve’s voice began to dwindle as he looked around and noticed people staring at him. He locked eyes with you over Tammy’s shoulder and sighed heavily.

Suddenly, the textbooks and folders in your locker became interesting—far more interesting than all the arguing going on in the hallway. Mr. Allen had made everything difficult intentionally. Splitting up groups so one person cared for the doll at a time before each group realized they couldn’t do it alone. The tactic was good, great even. The responsibilities of childcare and parenting obvious to those who had terrible nights and to those who hadn’t had realized it yet, the feelings were inbound.

As was Eddie. Charging down the hallway after barely hitting a gaggle of kids heading to the middle school in the parking lot and the doll, Bilbo, once again hanging from its hind leg as it swung. He called out your name so loud that even Steve had shut his mouth and stopped talking to Tammy. Eddie had one of those bad nights too. He strode right up to the side of your locker and had a crazed look on his face.

“What the fuck!?” He exclaimed, bags under his eyes. You couldn’t answer the question because you weren’t sure what had gone on.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’!? This thing,” he held it up like a captured possum, “kept me up all night with its relentless screaming and I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off!”

“I don’t think you can turn it off,” you commented, grabbing your science book and folder as your bag hung from the hook. “That’s not the point of the project. The point is to learn how to care for it, not turn it off.”

“Well,” he laughed cynically, “we were given a devil child. Literally the spawn of goddamn Satan because it doesn’t want to be cared for.”

“I thought we weren’t calling it ‘it’ anymore. Bilbo, remember?”

“Bilbo is too kind of name for this thing. It’s Lucifer… fucking… Sauron!”

“I can’t get on-board with Sauron,” you bit back a smile at his suffering, “But your duty is over now, right? Just leave Bilbo with me and we can meet up tomorrow and swap.”

“You’re not going to be able to do it alone,” he said it honestly, like he was terrified of the watermelon sized piece of plastic. You glanced around the hallway and saw all the partners having conversations similar, but all the same different, like the one you were having with Eddie. He was having an internal battle with himself—realizing that he actually had to do this and that when looking back on his own life, if this is what having a child was like, he could not imagine how his parents got through high school having him at sixteen. He had just turned eighteen and could barely keep it together and it was a doll named after a character from a children’s book.

“Do you not believe I can?” You questioned him yet he shook his head, taking note of the things in your locker instead of looking at you.

“That thing is a monster and if it’s not waking you up, it’s eating away all your free time. If it’s not eating away at your free time, it’s taking up all the time spent doing things that matter. It sucks the joy out of life without even taking a real breath.”

“Those are harsh words, Munson,” a sigh left your lips as you gripped your locker door. He was looking at the two Polaroids that were stuck on the door with tape. You and Nancy on the Fourth of July and then you with a group of little kids a few Halloween’s back dressed as character’s from Star Wars. You were hugging a curly haired Han Solo that had no teeth. “But maybe you just don’t have the parental touch that it needs.”

“What are you saying?” He narrowed his eyes, “That I’m neglecting Bilbo’s needs?”

“Maybe,” you shut your locker, “But either way, you have Hellfire and I agreed to take ‘em off your hands today so,” you grabbed Bilbo from him and perched him like Steve had perched his doll. Something stuck inside Eddie in that moment. It was a goddamn doll and he was sleep deprived, so he conflated his bubbling feelings of whatever the hell spurred inside of him to that. You looked cute holding the doll like that.

“We can talk about it tomorrow, alright? If anything needs to change, we have time to discuss it. Don’t get all worried.”

Eddie shook his head, running both of his hands through his hair and over his bangs before bringing them back down.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, mama.”

And then he walked away. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but, certainly it couldn’t be as bad as he was making it because sometimes, people could be dramatic—and Eddie Munson was the dictionary definition of the word. Always had been, always would be, and maybe, he was playing with the truth.

For three hours it had gone swimmingly. Bilbo made no noise.

But the minute Mr. Grosso put the Spanish test on your desk, the doll wailed so loud it made a girl scream from the other side of the room and you missed the test because it cried for thirty minutes in the bathroom before you could calm it down.

You swore you could hear the popping of his muffler three miles away. The blinds on the living room window comically split into two by your fingers, you peered out in anticipation you had gone to sleep feeling. Not quite butterflies but a nervous, anxious energy that kept you tossing and turning through the night. Along with Bilbo—the baby had kept you tossing and turning to the point where you felt crazy.

When you got home, you realized that the doll had smelt like weed and cigarettes but the distinct smell of Eddie’s cologne tried to cover it up. He had sprayed that doll with so much liquid that it had become ingrained into its clothes and soft body. You ripped off the onesie it was wearing and dunked it in the laundry immediately. And again, for the first few hours you managed to get your homework done for the weekend without much interruption until your parents got home.

They were utterly amused with the project and kept repeating that it was good for “skill building and responsibility.” You rolled your eyes and told them what Eddie had said about his night, expecting the same for your own and sure enough, it was like walking through the pits of hell.

Bilbo’s journey, Frodo’s journey… neither of them had the same horror of the screaming baby doll sitting on your comforter at two in the morning. Hour after hour, all you wanted to do was cry because it wasn’t responding to any of the tactics you had used when you would babysit. No rocking, no shushing, no gentle strokes, and just as the others complained in the hall, you couldn’t change its diaper or feed it. The solutions to ease its complications were non-existent.

Eddie rung you at eleven thirty saying he’d be over ‘in a bit’ and you stood at the window in your living room while your dad watched TV and your mom cooked lunch. The doll laying quietly on the sofa beside him for the first time in a half hour.

“So,” your dad cleared his throat as the program changed at noon, “what’s Eddie Munson like as a partner? I know his uncle Wayne from the plant.”

“He’s fine thus far,” you muttered, not tearing your eyes away from the window.

“You know this doll smells like a skunk.”

“It’s weed, dad,” you said so casually his eyebrows rose, “and it’s Eddie’s, not mine. And no, I don’t smoke.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he laughed but he would have. Not that he cared in the slightest if you did, that was all mom. Mom cared about reputation and manners and whether or not you’d have yellow teeth by the time you’re fifty. “But is he treating you alright?”

“What do you mean?” You looked away from the window and back at him, “We’re not really a couple, you know. It’s just a project,”

“I know, I know,” he clarified, waving you off like you had taken the comment too seriously, “as a partner. Not making you feel uncomfortable or anything?”

He might know Wayne, but the label of ‘freak’ extended beyond school. Eddie Munson flew around town in his beat up van playing his metal music at the highest level, smoked and loitered outside of stores, and very frequently, jested with the people of Hawkins to amuse his merry band of oddities.

“Eddie’s a good guy, dad,” you lamented, “so what if he likes metal and plays D&D.”

“D&D?”

“Yeah,” you furrowed your brows at him, “what did you think he did? He literally named the doll after Bilbo Baggins.”

“I thought Hellfire was…”

“What the mothers at the grocery store say it is?” You scoffed and turned back to the window, Eddie’s van turning the corner at the end of the block. “It’s a D&D club. I told him he’d probably get along with you too so try not to accuse him of worshiping the Devil, ‘Kay? That’s like… the furthest thing from the truth.”

He just nodded as you defended Eddie, a little smile on his face because he knew you so well. You were a good kid, a smart kid, but oblivious sometimes. If Steve Harrington had been your partner and he inquired about Steve’s role as a partner, you would have rolled your eyes and ended the conversation there. Eddie pulled into the driveway and you grabbed the baby off the couch, marching to the door. Opening it wide, he hadn’t even exited the van before you were standing there. Split between the wooden door and the glass one, pumpkins littered the small deck and a wreath rested on the door behind your head.

You had a cute house. It was simple and friendly, something his trailer was not. Eddie saw you standing there with a flat face and Bilbo in your hands and he laughed in his car. You could see his elated face burst with laughter; it irritated you but you couldn’t help thinking the sight was special. How often he had been smiling and laughing in your presence and a little butterfly sprouted in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie tossed the keys between his palms as he lazily approached the door, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Looks like someone had a rough night,” he commented a few feet from you as you unlocked the glass door and propped it open. “Didn’t believe me when I said it was Satan?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, putting on a face for him to prove you could handle the stress of taking care of a plastic doll. “Bilbo was a saint. Slept through the night.”

Eddie reached the door, holding onto the silver handle so you could let go.

“Yeah?” He questioned, “tell that to your face, sweetheart. You got no sleep and you look like you walked through Mordor.”

“Do you always reference Lord of the Rings or is it just to prove you read?” You squinted your eyes at him.

“One, I do read,” Eddie entered your house and stood across from you in the small doorway. The doll separating you, he looked down, you looked up. “And two, Bilbo likes it when I talk about familiar things,” He gave a wide, toothy smile before grabbing the doll out of your hands and moving into the entryway.

“You know, this kind of feels like how I’d imagine kids of divorce feel.”

“Like being pawned off by their parents every other day because rules told them to?” You shut the door behind you, pressing it closed with the thud. You pointed to his shoes and directed him to take them off to where a mat sat beside the wooden table with a mirror hanging above it.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slipped them off. He was wearing matching socks. “Poor ‘lil Bilbo Munson-L/n… separated by the rules written on the back of Mr. Richard’s history test.”

You scoffed, walking past him and down the hallway as he struggled with his right shoe. In a matter of seconds, his socked feet patted against the wood flooring and caught up with you.

“My parents are home so don’t be weird or anything,” you muttered and he caught himself nodding at the direction instead of responding with the sarcastic remark because of the way you said it. ‘Don’t be weird or anything,’ as if he was not already labeled that way or saw himself as ‘weird.’ Yes, Eddie was unique and full of a million things you weren’t sure fit a narrative of ‘normal,’ but it didn’t mean he was weird. He was just Eddie.

You rounded a small archway that revealed a living room and an older man sitting on the couch watching the tv. His eyes left the screen and met Eddie’s—who was immediately more reserved than he had thought he’d be. He was nervous, suddenly. Standing in your home, with your father in one room and mother in another, with the task of caring for a baby together looming over his head like a cloud. It was ridiculous and confusing but all the same exciting and challenging for him.

“This is, um,” you glanced at Eddie to put him on the spot. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out at first. He was holding the baby like a real baby and moved it to extend his hand to your dad.

“Eddie. Eddie Munson. Thanks for letting us use your house,” he said as cool as he could. Your dad looked at his hand, taking not a second later to grip it strongly and shake it.

You noticed the way Eddie’s eyes lit up at being welcomed. His hesitancy dissipating as your dad asked him a question, yet all you could do was watch him. The feeling was odd. Watching Eddie interact with your father was like watching a significant other be terrified to meet the parents for the first time. It was terrifying how quickly that idea not only came to your mind, but felt normal.

Conversations between the two of you before being assigned partners had been totaled at three.

And now Eddie Munson was talking to your dad about their shared connection to Wayne Munson in the middle of your living room.

And for some reason, the sight of it was something you wouldn’t be mad about becoming a normal occurrence.

“I hear you play D&D?” He asked Eddie who glanced at you, already looking at him, before nodding and turning back to your dad. He hadn’t expected you to have talked about him at all.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You know,” Rising from the couch, “She babysits some kids that play it. They’re quite the rambunctious bunch but have nothing on that… what did you say its name was?” He asked you, but Eddie answered at the same time you did.

“Bilbo.”

He laughed, repeating the name as he turned toward another archway that led to the kitchen and tipped his head in that direction.

“We never had to do a project like that but I think it’ll do you both good.”

Your mom was standing in the kitchen making grilled cheeses and stirring tomato soup on the stove. She turned her head over her shoulder and gave Eddie a smile. He returned it as his eyes flicked all over the space. He took in the pictures on the wall, the types of plates your family used, the way the sink had a window overlooking the backyard and there was a dog outside on a leash laying on the brick patio. Eddie didn’t have this life. He walked to the patio door and looked out at the yard.

“You gotta pretty nice house here, L/n,” he mumbled as you came to stand beside him. His fingers digging into the plush body of Bilbo as a bit of his hardened shell began to tell him he was out of place.

“It’s nice, yeah,” you admitted, “but it’s a carbon copy of all the houses in this neighborhood.”

He hadn’t put two and two together and noticed the layout was similar to Gareth’s down the street.

“You con your parents to be nice to me too?” He glanced at you as if looking for a conspiracy. That somehow, nothing in his life was this easy. That there was a superficial reason talking to you came easy; that there was a mysterious reason your parents accepted him even if he wore a leather jacket and Motörhead t-shirt and a spattering of rings on his fingers. You weren’t necessarily friends in any way, but he felt comfortable. He looked into your eyes and felt secure because of what? Kindness? The noticeable attention of a girl finally making him soft?

“No,” you said honestly, “just told them a bit about who you were. That’s all. Are you going to stay?”

“Stay?”

“I just thought,” you felt your mouth go dry with his question. Perhaps you were being too forward or not thinking clearly because the sight of him being domestic with a doll had awakened a sleeping giant inside of you. His big, brown, cow-like eyes scanned over your face as you stuttered. “I just thought it’d be easier for both of us the longer we did it together.”

“Oh,” was the sound that escaped between his lips and you immediately began retracting your words. Your parents watched the two of you from the other side of the counter with knowing looks in their eyes.

“It’s fine!” You laughed nervously. “You don’t have to stay. I was just shooting the shit; you know? I’m not trying to keep you from your plans or anything… my mom makes a real mean gc and—“

“—I’ll stay.” Eddie cut in and you stopped rambling, letting the words fall from your lips as he nodded. “I want to stay.”

“O-Okay, um,” you looked into those brown eyes a second longer than you should have before peaking past him and to your parents who tried to appear occupied with cooking. “Eddie’s gonna stay for a bit, if that’s fine.”

“Yeah, hun,” your mom kept her back turned to you and stirred the pot. “He’s always welcome.”

Always welcome.

He had to have hit the lottery with this one. A good, pretty partner and a space to escape to that welcomed him without judgement? He was either in the first circle of Hell or ascending to peace yet his feet were planted on the ground—not a foot from your own.

Eddie spent the entire afternoon there. When the sun fell and the moon rose high, you yawned on the floor of your basement and he knew that it was far past a normal time to spend sitting around, laughing and trying to sooth the unexplainable outbursts of Bilbo. His face hurt from the stupid smile that he couldn’t wipe from his face once the two of you had figured out that the doll had sensors under its arms and swaddling helped stop the crying until another unexplained outburst required attention.

When he walked to his van with the doll swaddled in his arms like a real baby, he turned back as he opened the door and shot one last look to the house where you were still standing to bid him goodbye. Eddie didn’t want to leave. He felt his heart squeeze when you gave him a small wave, illuminated by the yellow lighting of the hallway behind you. Shit. He got into the van and sped off before pulling into Gareth’s driveway and pounded on the door.

You shut the front door and with a lock, your dad turned off the tv in the living room before walking into the hallway to meet you there. Both headed to bed, he put an arm around your shoulders and squeezed.

“We gonna talk about that or no?” He asked.

“About what?”

“That!” He laughed as you felt your face heat up. Rising on the Kelvin scale, you felt a spotlight shrink itself onto you. “You gotta little crush there, darlin’ and to be frank, I think he might too.”

“Dad!” You complained, jostling out of his grip and walking more quickly toward your bedroom. “I don’t like Eddie!”

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” he chuckled as you pushed opened your bedroom door and slammed it closed in embarrassment. “But really, you do.”

Eddie pounded on Gareth’s door for three minutes but no one was coming to the door. Desperate, he put his ear to the wood and heard the distinct thumping of drums echoing throughout the house and contemplated for a moment. He could keep knocking and draw the attention of the neighbors and get the cops called on him for suspicious behavior, or, he could go around to the back and knock on Gareth’s window in hopes that it was closer and louder.

He jumped off the stoop and made for the window. Inside, Gareth was head banging as he played Iron Maiden on his drums and had a literal lava lamp reflecting off the symbols. Eddie put his fist to the glass and waited for a break in the beats to thump. Gareth jumped, a scream emitting from his mouth as his sticks went flying across his room and Eddie waved a hand at him from the other side.

“What the fuck, man?” Gareth opened the window and nearly shivered at the cool, October air. “Why are you here? The cops after you?”

“I just spent eight hours in Y/n L/n’s basement taking care of a goddamn baby and eating her mother’s food.”

“Shit,” Gareth laughed, “that sounds like a fuckin’ dream if you ask me.”

“It’s a nightmare, Gareth. A fucking nightmare.”

“Why?” The floppy hair Gareth had been sporting fell into his eyes as they contorted in confusion. “She’s a nice girl. Her old man helps mine when the cars busted.”

“Of course he does!” Eddie pushed off the windowsill and put his hands above his head, breathing in deeply.

“What? He threaten you or something?”

“No, they were,” Eddie’s face scrunched as if it pained him to say the word, “perfect.”

“Then…” Gareth motioned with his hand for Eddie to continue.

“That’s it! They were perfect! She’s perfect, man!” Then, he let a slew of curses leave his mouth and disappear into the night sky. Gareth laughed, letting a long ‘ahhhhh’ direct itself toward the guitarist.

“Eddie Munson,” he leaned into the bedside table by the window, “in love with the girl next door.”

“FUCK!” Eddie yelled with his hands in his hair.

And he still had a week left to take care of Bilbo with you.

Part 2 Here

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #joseph quinn #stranger things 2

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 3 months

Text

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴘɪᴘᴇᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ (J.M)

*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*

Pairing: football-player!Joel Miller x golden-girl!Fem!Reader

POV: This story is told through the POV of high school senior Joel Miller

Summary: Joel's girl lives in his dreams and in the house next door. He's always known her, and he's always wanted her, but in ApplePine, whose dream does she not haunt? Now He has a chance that He's been looking forward to all his life. This can't fail. He won't let someone like her slip away.

Warnings/tags: Kind of toxic undertones, mentions of a bad home life (reader), church, idolization, nerves, kissing and making out, small Texas town with very traditional values, climbing and watching people through windows, Joel is a Lil bit of a stalker, BAD American football talk. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 4.5k

On most Saturdays and after church on Sundays, she could be found working at the local ice cream shop. Occasionally, if there wasn't a football game, she would also work on Fridays. She was a well-known figure in our small town - being the girl next door, head cheerleader, and leading member of the student council. Her many accomplishments included winning the title of Little Miss Apple Pine, which only added to her popularity. Many of us admired her from afar, watching her ride her bike with friends, interact with the little kids in the neighborhood, or simply be in her element with a book in hand and a Walkman playing some music.

It was difficult to tell what music she listened to, but I'd like to think it was hard rock, maybe Guns N' Roses. However, her sweet nature suggested it was more likely to be Bon Jovi or AC/DC. Despite her bright persona, we all knew that she had a tough time at home, our houses were right next to each other too It was sad but there's only so much a loud TV can cover.

We attend the same school and ride the same bus together. We have chemistry class as well as lunch B together. Additionally, we share gym and math classes. I have noticed that she is quieter in math class and doesn't answer questions as quickly. In math class, she sits three seats ahead of me, and during lunch, she sits six seats away from me. Her round lunch table is located ten tables away from mine, and it's always occupied by a few cheerleaders and jocks who are considered acceptable, unlike me who often gets thrown off the field for hitting refs because of not knowing if I'm coming or going. Compared to them, she seems to be in another world, like a cool autumn day in the middle of a hot Texas summer.

As the chemistry class began, Mr. McMory walked into the classroom with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. He had only undone the top button of his shirt, showing some long curly grey chest hairs — utterly gross if you ask me. We all watched as he walked to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. He clasped his hands together behind his back and stopped before turning to face the class.

"Now, as most of you probably know, we will need to form a new set of lab partners for this semester. However, to keep things fair so everyone gets a chance of getting matched with whom You would prefer, I've decided to have you all write your names on a small piece of paper and put them in this box. Once I've finished passing them out, I will draw two student names from the box at random, and those two will be your partners for this semester."

Without having to pause, Mr. McMory spoke clearly. This routine was something he did every marking period, four times a year, for 30 years. The memories of the previous marking period memories flooded my mind, where Jason Duly and Billy Holiday tried to bribe Gaby Michelle to give up her seat so that they could sit next to our classmate, the charming "I trust that you all understand the process now?" Mr. McMory continued. Once no one raised their hands to question what he said, he walked back to the front and handed out the small pieces of paper to everyone. "Now you have two minutes to write your names on the paper, then place it into the box. Once you are all finished, I will begin the randomized selection."

Chaos began to take place across the room with various bets being placed and trades being arranged like a market in the middle of a jungle, I wrote my name on the slip of paper without a thought. It was a meaningless task to me, as I would have been fine with getting anyone as my lab partner. In the middle sat our Pipe Dream, seemingly clueless to it all, while these students scrambled like mad to gain the favor of their desired partners, and the professor seemed unaware of all the action taking place in the classroom.

The chaos of the class was suddenly drowned out by Mr. McMory yelling out to have students start putting their slips into the box. As the box was quickly getting more and more full, the class started to become more and more silent and calm as no one wanted to be one of the ones not getting the partner they wanted even if they all wanted the same one our darling Miss pipedream isn't only perfect in every way but she's also incredibly smart.

Mr. McMory walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of the whiteboard. He held the box and a red whiteboard marker. "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement," he said as he paused and placed the box on a stool in front of him. He then pulled out the first two names. "Gaby and Hannah," he announced, causing a small gasp from some students. Mr. McMory placed the paper down and wrote the names on the board. There was a moment of silence before a low murmur began to spread throughout the classroom Mr. McMory then pulled out another two slips from the box and announced the next pairs of names: "Billy and Jillian, Jason and Cory." As each pair was announced, the two people were immediately surrounded by cheers of excitement or groans of disappointment. Some students could be overheard saying things like "no way!" and "I can't believe this!" and "Are we sure it's fair?" There were a few complaints here and there that their partner was not who they wanted, but Mr. McMory quickly cut them off, saying, "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement, understood?"

As I stood watching the chaos break loose behind me, I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly everything was unfolding. However, my laughter came to a sudden halt when Mr. McMory announced me and a stranger as partners.No, not a stranger, It was the girl who seemed to have it all, the girl who had effortlessly made her way through every aspect of the school and had become something of a legend. She was the girl next door, the one every boy wanted, and the only one I was enamored with at the slightest glance in her direction. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over the crowd and saw her smiling brightly at me. Time seemed to slow down as the rest of the world faded away. It was as if the universe was just waiting for us to get to know each other. My nervousness quickly turned into an adrenaline rush as I became more and more excited. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, a chance to turn my dreams into reality and finally figure her out.

On the bus, I noticed her again. We made eye contact but didn't speak. She sat with her friend Sally Handson until she got off at her stop. However, I didn't expect her to move over and sit in the same seat as me.

"You're Joel, right?" she asked me before kindly offering her hand to shake.

"That's me," I smiled as I gently took her hand in mine and shook it. Our skin connected, and I felt a slight tremor in my hand before letting go, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. I looked back up to see her, and she seemed to be just as nervous as I felt. The silence seemed to linger on for a moment before she spoke again.

"I just wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look at the assignment yet?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. "No, actually, I'm not very good at chemistry. I was probably going to copy off of you, to tell you the truth," I said, trying to make a joke, but struggling to hide the fact that it was true.

She smiled brightly, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Like all football players. It's okay though, I can help you study sometime if you'd like?"

As she spoke, my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. The offer of her help flooded my mind with different scenarios, from spending time with her after school to studying together at the library or even hosting study groups at our houses. I chuckled nervously and nodded my head.

The sudden stop of the bus snapped me back to reality, and a thought raced through my mind. Should I ask to walk her home? The offer seemed so appealing, and I was filled with possibilities of getting to know her even better. It was time to take the chance, but I had to fight the nervousness building inside me.

"Hey, are you walking to your house? Because I was just going to ask if...if I could walk you home?" I spoke the words carefully, fearing that I might mess up and ruin the moment. I fiddled with the straps of my backpack, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I waited for her response.

She smiled kindly at me. "Yes, and I would love that. Do you know which house?"

"I do," I said with a slightly more confident tone than before. I felt myself calming down as the idea of walking home together became more real. She began to take in the neighborhood around us, and I thought it was a perfect time to start a conversation.

"So, this is where you live?"

She giggled, and her laughter was infectious. I couldn't help but smile. "Joel, you and I have lived in the same neighborhood since we were newborns. We're neighbors for goodness sake, no need to be so formal with me."

She was right; I was overthinking our interactions. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember. "Oh yeah...I suppose you have a point. I guess my nervousness made me go blank like that. I'm just not used to seeing you when you're not out on the field with your cheer squad." I chuckled, feeling my nerves die down even more as I looked over at her and relaxed a bit more.

"I understand it's hard not to picture me like that, and you as well, Joel. You're violent on the field. I'm pretty sure that referee from Tentown had a broken nose," she tries to make conversation.

The mention of the game in Tentown makes me chuckle a bit. That was the first game in the league where I was allowed to play, and I suppose my desire to prove myself ended with me getting a bit carried away. The thought of the ref's nose makes me chuckle a bit more as I couldn't help but feel bad for the ref.

"Yeah, I think you're right about that. But that's just how it is, right? The game is pretty brutal. I can't play without getting a little carried away."

She thinks for a second and then says, "Maybe that's why you're always benched, along with Tommy? Speaking of your brother, where is he? Oh, and how are poor freshmen? I heard the older football players are being a little mean."

The question about my benching for games suddenly brings back my nervous energy, and I immediately feel uncomfortable talking about it. "That's probably one of the reasons for it, yeah..." I sigh as the mention of my brother and some of the team's hazing of the freshman brings a frown to my face.

"It pisses me off how they treat some of the freshmen like that. I don't see why they can't just treat them like the rest of the team..." I pause mid-sentence as the thought comes to my mind.

"I feel so bad for the poor freshman. They do the same thing on the cheer team," she said. We stopped at the crossing signal, and I was surprised by how well she could relate to what I was describing. It dawned on me that she may have experienced it more than I had considering how involved she is in cheer. We waited for the light to turn green, and I smiled at her.

"We should set up a study date sometime soon. After all, you said you're not that good at chemistry?" she said as we got closer to her house. I was thrilled at the possibility of spending more time with her.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll certainly need the help," I chuckled. She walked ahead of me with a sweet little glide in her step, making me have to catch up to her as we continued walking.

"Which days work for you?" she asked, opening her backpack and taking out a pen and paper. "Oh, and write down your landline number." I replied, "I'm pretty much free all week, so just let me know what works for you." Her request for my landline number made my heart skip a beat as it reminded me of when she offered to help me at her place.

"How about Friday after school since there's no game? We can meet at my place," she suggested as we stood outside her front gate. "That works great for me! We can discuss our study plans and maybe even study together if you're up for it," I replied excitedly. "Your place sounds perfect, and I just want to say thank you," I added, feeling grateful for her help. She smiled and said, "Of course, Joel." Then she walked into her yard and house, waving goodbye.

Friday couldn't come any quicker in my mind. I couldn't get Miss Applepine, Cheery Pie, Pipe Dream out of my head at all. The more we talked in class, the more I fell under her spell and the more I wanted to know... She was a mystery, and I wanted to be the first to hear everything she was willing to tell.

now stand at her front door. I rang the doorbell eagerly waiting for her to answer. She opened the door; she looked so pretty. "Come on in, Joel," she opened the door to let me in. In all my years of being neighbors, I always wondered what her house looked like, and to be honest, her house is less organized than I thought.

"Sorry about the mess. You know, it's just me and my dad, and I'm a little behind on chores... um... studying," she began to ramble but stopped herself. It was rather cute; it made me smile even more.

"Come on upstairs to my room. I have all my books and everything up there," she led me up to her bedroom. It was so normal - band posters, photos of her family, school items, her numerous awards, and her window looked directly into my room.

As we entered her room, I couldn't resist glancing over to her window again. It felt like this was the closest I could get to seeing inside her home for A Long time and now I'm inside the looking glass. I took a seat right next to her bed as she went to her bookshelf to collect her textbooks. As we started reviewing the material, a wave of butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I occasionally stole a glance at her while she flipped through different articles, but I couldn't hold my stare for long.

"Are these all the books we're going to be using?" I asked as she placed her biology and chemistry books on her desk. I watched her lean over, her eyes almost glued to the books as she read through them. "Yeah, these are the ones. I just want to make sure that we're both prepared for this project. It's about how we think the universe began, so lots to cover" she replied with a soft smile that brought me back to reality for a moment as I gazed into her eyes.

"I'm ready to start studying. So, what do you want to start with?" she asked as I sat down. She looked at me with a sweet smile and thought for a moment before responding, "Do you think we should start with chemistry? I know it's the one you struggle with the most."

"Sure, that works," I replied excitedly she remembered that from the walk my cheeks got a little pink as I opened the book and looked over her shoulder to find the section she had mentioned. I was determined to pay close attention this time, feeling more relaxed thanks to her calm and collected presence.

Every little gesture or movement she made caught my full attention like a spark in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she played with her hair made it difficult to resist complimenting her. When she asked if she could ask me something, it snapped me out of my trance for a moment. I replied with a simple "Yeah, sure."

As she playfully hit my shoulder, her touch felt light as a feather. I couldn't help but smile, sitting up and crossing my legs like she was doing. Moving my book from my lap, I placed it on the end of her bed. "Why can't you focus?" she asked, and my heart started racing. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I lied, "No reason..." Trying to act casual, I could feel myself blushing as she hit my shoulder and called me out. It was because of her - her sweet smile, small gestures, and the way she sat cross-legged on her bed - that I couldn't focus. But I couldn't just outright admit that I had a massive crush on her.

"We can take a break?" she offered, and I felt even more nervous. The idea of taking a break meant a chance to talk about things other than studying and a chance to just hang out with her. I was hoping that she felt the same way and that she also couldn't help but notice the tension that was building between us. I sat back up and joked, "You're saying that as if I would deny the offer." My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel the same tension I did.

As we continued to talk, I made sure to continue moving closer to her every chance that I could get. The heat coming from her body filled me with a new sense of boldness as I tried to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean who can blame me, when I'm sitting across from someone so charming..." I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"Have you been studying for long?" she asked me as she laid back on her bed, making it clear that she had no plans to get up anytime soon. As the conversation shifted towards more flirtatious topics, I started to blush slightly. "Do you mean studying?..." I replied to her, but even I could hear that my voice had taken on a flirty tone.

"Yes, studying, or are you just as brain-dead as the other football players?" she joked. "Hey now, what are you implying?" I responded teasingly as I moved closer to her. As we talked more, the tone of the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, and I struggled to hold back my blush. "You're the one who keeps saying we should take a break. Sounds like you don't want to study..." I said, trying to pretend to focus on a book.

But even as we continued discussing the material or pretending to, I noticed her eyes drifting toward me as she glanced up and down my body. It made me feel a little uneasy, but also excited as I wondered what she was thinking. Could she feel the same tension between us that I felt?

"Hmmm, maybe I don't. But you're the one who said yes to the break." she grinned mischievously as I scooted slightly closer to her, looking up and staring into her eyes. "You make it kind of hard to pay attention..."

As we continued to talk The heat coming from her body filled me with a sense of boldness as I attempted to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean, who can blame me when I'm sitting across from someone so charming?" I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"I'm flattered. I'll take that as a compliment since you're also very kind with your words," she said as I moved even closer to her. We were almost too close for comfort, but I couldn't resist getting even closer. "I thought I was charming, but you are even more charming than I imagined," I told her, leaning in even closer until I was practically touching her. I felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes seemed to be blushing, and I felt a sudden burst of confidence. I brought my hand up to her side, almost touching her waist. "You are an interesting girl," I whispered.

"You find me interesting?" she asked, smiling shyly and looking down. I could tell she was blushing and feeling a little embarrassed, but I decided to take a risk and leaned in even closer. Our faces were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my face. I looked up at her and felt a rush of emotions.

"I didn't know you were so easy to read," I said as I leaned even closer to her, this time the tiny distance between us was nothing but air. I couldn't help but feel that feeling building inside me again as I watched her face grow redder and redder as it appeared to be a little closer every time. "I'm sure most guys would be more than happy to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”

“Are you most guys? Should I be worried? I'm not a one-and-done girl, Joel…” she said, showing insecurity for what seems to be the first time. As she asked me if I was 'most guys', I couldn't help but feel my heart sink for a brief second as I heard her insecurity, but I quickly recovered and smiled as I looked down at her. My hands slowly wrapped around her waist as I leaned even closer. "Oh please, you think I'm going to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you just like that. You aren't a one-and-done girl, you're... you're an angel." I slowly leaned forward so our faces were just a hair's width apart. I gazed into her eyes, lost in the moment, when she suddenly exclaimed, "An Angel?" Her voice was soft, yet full of wonder, as if she had just seen something magical. She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face, and I couldn't help but notice the way her face immediately flushed up with red. Her eyes quickly looked down, as if to distract herself from her sudden burst of emotion.

I kept looking at her, waiting for her to look back up at me. I leaned down just a bit more, my heart racing with anticipation, as my lips were barely an inch from hers when she finally decided to look back up. I couldn't help but feel the surge of joy rushing through my body as I saw the way her eyes slowly opened and she looked back up to face me.

The way her cheeks were still flushed and the shy, but happy look on her face was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect moment as I leaned in for the kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and simple embrace, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in the world except for that moment. I held her close as we kissed, and I knew deep down inside that this was the start of something special.

The kiss started gentle but with each second that passed it started to become more intense. The heat of her body and the way her hands ran through my hair was making my heart skip a few beats as I started to wish I could pull her into an even deeper kiss. I didn't want to overwhelm her though so I tried to keep it simple, although it was hard to keep my hands from finding every part of her body that I could. She's not someone who wants a one-time thing and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't think all I want is sex.

We disengaged when we heard her front door slam shut. "That's my dad!" she exclaimed, her urgency evident. "He can't know you're here." She swiftly rose, pulling me up with her, both of us breaking away from the kiss as she hurried us along. Her pace was so brisk that it took a moment for me to catch on before I scrambled up. "Why can't he know I'm here?" I whispered, trying to avoid any noise as her dad ascended the stairs.

"Because he'll flip if he finds a guy in my room. Though, it's not like it's the first time I've had a guy over," she rushed, steering us towards her bedroom window. "Seriously? You've done this before?" I questioned? but that conversation could wait as we reached her bedroom window, which she promptly opened, urging me outside.

"Well, there was this one time Dad caught me, and he nearly lost it. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he dropped it," she explained hurriedly, her insistence on getting me out the window starting to concern me. I trusted she knew what she was doing, but I wasn't quite prepared for what came next.

"Are you seriously making me climb out your window?" I protested.

"Don't be a wimp. You'll be fine. You're not the first guy I've had over," she reassured, though her words didn't ease my nerves. The distance from her window to the ground seemed to grow as she tugged me closer to the edge.

As I began to climb out, my foot slipped, and I fell with a hard thud and a loud squeak.

Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle, the walk home afforded me ample time to ponder, and my thoughts continuously circled back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, as if she was keeping something from me. If she's had numerous guys over before, why the sudden worry about her dad catching her? Was I just another casual fling to her? My mind brimmed with inquiries for my elusive "little miss pipedream."

110 notes · View notes

littlemissmiller · 6 days

Text

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐢𝐦

Pairing: drug dealer!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: Your last summer before college and Coriolanus is still just as in love with you as the first time he saw you, but all of high school you’ve been taken. Meanwhile Coriolanus isn’t looking forward to college, but at least he can still make money dealing drugs. During the last week of school, he notices how fragile your relationship has become and something makes him think he still may have one last chance with you before the summer is over…

Warning: 21+ (mentions or drugs/ drug use) eventually smut, mentions of masturbation (m and f), mentions of oral (m and f receiving), jealously, slight obsession, possession, toxic relationship.

Word count: 4k

A/N: hello all! my first series! soooo i’ve had this idea in mind for a while, but it felt like a summer write/read and i figured since a good amount of y’all are high school age or older this would appeal more and now that the school year is over i figured y’all have more time to read too. also i have another joel fic so that is coming soooon (closely followed by a billy fic) i’m so excited about this one like…i had so much fun writing it and i’m guesssing it’s gonna be like 12 chapters long…idk we shall see :) i hope you enjoy ❣︎

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Coriolanus was ready for the summer. He was so sick of school, even though he excels at it. He barely has to study and usually did his homework last minute and still got all As. His grandma had encouraged him to go to college next year, even though school didn’t quite interest him anymore. He thought about joining ROTC once he got to campus, but truthfully, why would he give up his little side deal for some army pricks and a “free” ride to college when business was about to be booming.

In his junior year, Coriolanus had taken up dealing drugs. Mainly he stuck to weed or psychedelics like mushrooms or acid, and occasionally ecstasy. He didn’t dare sell hard shit and he always made sure his stuff was clean. He had help. From time to time, his friend, Sejanus, would steal from his mother’s medicine cabinet. Xanax, Valium, whatever Mrs. Plinth’s psychiatrist would prescribe, he would manage to steal a few whenever his mother decided not to take her meds that day. It was a system that worked well for Coriolanus, and a system that he would need to maintain. Which is why he decided to go to college only about an hour away from his town. Being from a small, rural town in Illinois didn’t leave Coriolanus many options except the big public school close to the city. A booming college town, where Coriolanus knew he’d be able to expand his “customers” and still manage to keep up his means of getting the drugs he sold.

Luckily enough for him, Sejanus was attending the same college as Coriolanus. Which meant “visits back home” were opportunities for Coriolanus to stock up on his stash and sell. He would be able to tag along with a homesick Sejanus frequently, or at least that’s what Coriolanus predicts given how nostalgic he has seemed to become in the last couple of months. It’s Sejanus’s new favorite hobby. Recalling old memories and moments from the past. Some of which Coriolanus didn’t even realize how much those mundane moments Sejanus’s brain clinged to. How much he cared about their hometown and especially his family. Coriolanus didn’t understand. It wasn’t like he was going halfway across the country, unlike you.

You were bound for California, had big dreams of becoming a cancer researcher for a children’s hospital, and absolutely over the moon to be going to Stanford. Coriolanus wasn’t as thrilled. He had long desired you, wanted you as his own, but since the first week of freshman year you had been so out of his grasp. Too distracted by someone on the football or basketball team, and by your sophomore year you had gotten with one of those football players, Devon. Coriolanus still saw you around however. You and him had shared every AP science course since sophomore year and you considered Coriolanus to be a school friend. That was all. Yet, all of the science classes you and him had spent together left plenty of room for you to chat about Devon. And for some reason you felt safe to talk to him about whenever he would do something to upset you. But you never left him.

So, Coriolanus had watched you from afar, longing to have you all to himself. As high school went on, you only grew more and more beautiful and Coriolanus would often imagine you laying bare before him on his bed. When he was home, he couldn’t help but jerk himself off to the image of you with your hand on your wet core, playing with your clit in between your fingers. That’s all he could picture as he pumped his length in the shower most nights. One hand against the wall the other stroking himself as he pictures you begging for him to fuck you. Your soft pleas tumbling from your beautiful lips like a prayer.

Why couldn’t he have you? Why did some himbo athlete have to have you when Coriolanus was clearly superior to him. He didn’t blame you though. Devon was popular, which made you popular by default and after being in a relationship for so long, he knew it wasn’t easy to just leave someone like that. If anything he blamed himself for not getting to you first. For not asking you out when he had the chance.

Not thinking you’d be interested, the one time Coriolanus had gotten an opportunity to ask you out was freshman year. It was after biology class right before winter break and Coriolanus wanted to take you to a movie. You were his lab partner that day and it’s all that was on his mind. When just the right moment arose, he first asked if you wanted to meet later that night to finish the lab so they would have less homework over break, but mainly to see if you were free to hang out. Coriolanus was quickly let down when you informed him that you would’ve liked to, but your family was going out of town to visit your grandparents for the holidays.

“I’ll just have to finish it when I get back from break.” You had sighed

And that was the only real time he’d had talked to you still single. What a pity given it was the last week of school now. Exams were nearly over and Coriolanus had told himself to give up on you, but he couldn’t seem to let you go. Even though it was the last week, and graduation was this weekend, he still desired you deeply. More than the day he met you. Coriolanus watched you in AP Literature as the class went over the study guide. You twirled your hair, bored and just as ready for the relaxing summer break as he was. He tried not to gawk, but he couldn’t help it. You looked so god damn precious today. Your green plaid skirt just barely followed the dress code and your white shirt was ruffled around the edges and fit your body nicely. Your black converse high tops dangled above the floor. All he wanted to do was take you into a bathroom stall, bend you over, bunch up your skirt and admire your ass. He bet it was soft and round. He imagined a pair of cotton, white panties under it all, soaked. His cock started to harden in his jeans, so Coriolanus moved in his seat to hide his stirring erection.

The bell rings about ten minutes later and thankfully he’s settled down enough to where his bulge isn’t quite so obvious. He snatches up his book bag and looks up. As the last few students file out, you are asking the teacher a few questions. Coriolanus gets up and heads for the door. As he passed you, you finish your conversation and quickly move to catch up to him.

“Hey!” You shouted

Coriolanus paused at the door, turning his head to look at you

“I know it’s exam week and you are busy, but this physics lab is going to be the death of me.”

Coriolanus couldn’t believe it. Were you about to ask for his help outside of class? You had always been going to him for help with your science classes. Even though you had managed to score higher than him on every exam in science, for some reason physics was killing you. So all semester, you had been asking Coriolanus for help during class, but only during class. You never asked to finish your work with him after school.

“Are you asking for my help?” He smiles

Personally, you don’t want to take away from his time since Coriolanus seemed like the type of man that valued his free time and didn’t like to bother with school outside of school. In addition, his mysterious, stern demeanor was intimidating and you didn’t know if you were bothering him while he was trying to make money. You knew he dealt drugs and frankly, the idea of that scared you too so much as you need his help and your science classes and in all honesty, you were just afraid to ask him for anything at all.

But Coriolanus always assumed it was because of how protective Devon was. Which was also true. He didn’t like you talking to other guys outside of class, and he was particularly wary of Coriolanus. It was no secret that he was handsome. As beautiful as the guys at school thought you were. Coriolanus had built his own reputation as someone who slept around. And as much of a neanderthal as Devon was, he damn well knew that Coriolanus looked at you like you’re his prey.

“Yes” you sighed

“I don’t mind.”

“Really”

“Not at all. I’m free tonight.”

“Thank you so much. You have no idea, I’d seriously be lost without you.”

“Of course!” He chirped

“I appreciate it. Wanna meet up at Panera after school?”

“Sounds good.”

You smiled, waved and walked off

Fuckfuckfuck you said “lost without him.” That felt so personal. And your sweet smile. Why are you so perfect. Your hips sway as you walk away and Coriolanus’s cock starts to get hard again, until he see’s something that makes him want to repulse. Your boyfriend approached you from the other end of the hall. Devon came up to you,hugged you and groped your ass. What an obnoxious ass, can’t he tell you don’t like that kind of attention in school. He gave you a sleazy smile and Coriolanus turned his attention away.

After school, he headed to Panera as instructed and waited for you. You pulled up, your boyfriend dropping you off in his 2016 White Mercedes C-Class. You walk inside and find him sitting in the back.

“Hey. I’m going to order food. Did you get something?” You asked

“Nah I’m not all that hungry.”

“Okay!” You smile and walk to the counter to order.

You came back quickly, sat beside Coriolanus, putting her book bag between them. You pulled out her physics textbook, laptop and the lab. As you explained why you were confused, Coriolanus explained the material to you, but was so tempted again. So tempted by the way your knee peaked at him and when you crossed your legs, letting more of your thigh show, and he nearly fell apart. He hated how desperate he was for you. How badly he wanted you. He’d do anything just to hear you instruct him to get on his knees and bury his face in between your thighs.

When your food came, he refocused his attention on your homework. Why couldn’t he control himself? Why was he so drawn to your temptations today? You always looked so beautiful, but Coriolanus felt feral.

“Ugh what am I going to do next year without you in my science classes!” You sighed

There you go again. Making everything sound personal and intimate. Clever as always, Coriolanus replied.

“Well good thing you have my number right?”

“Yeah, but we won’t be in the same class and I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother” he follows up quickly

“You’re always so sweet. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime…” he smiles

Your phone buzzed, it’s Devon. You pick up and he seems annoyed. You tried to calm him down but somehow he figured out that you’re here studying with Coriolanus.

“You’re being ridiculous ok. Let’s just talk when we get back to my house…busy…with what?” You speak in a harsh whisper. “Ok whatever… just come back and drop me back home. Ok please?”

Coriolanus acted like he didn’t notice, but he watched in agony as tears welled up in your eyes. You took a deep breath, close your eyes, and swallowed your sadness along with the last sip of your Cola. Even though he should mind his own business, he couldn’t contain himself. He had to ask if you were ok. Besides, it's not like you don’t already confide in him during class anyways.

“It’s ok. I’ll be good.” You said, your lip quivering

You excuse yourself to refill your drink and Coriolanus packs up his things.

What a fucking insecure dick.

Coriolanus knew that you’re not the type to cheat. If anything Devon would cheat on you in a second. As protective as he was of you, he seemed to have a different set of rules for himself. Coriolanus saw Devon at parties, how’d he flirt with other girls when you weren’t around, or check out the cheerleaders at games. Yet you couldn’t have any real guy friends, and he truly couldn’t stand Coriolanus.

“You sure? I could give you a ride home since he seems…”

“No it’s fine…he’ll be here soon anyways. I appreciate your help.”

Your lip quivers slightly and you hide your face as you pretend to yawn. It’s something you’ve learned to help you to hide your tears and prevent you from falling apart into a big mess. But Coriolanus saw right through it because he had seen it before. He wanted to hold you, tell you to dump Devon and be with him instead. He would kiss you, to show you just how serious he was. He imagined delicately stroking your chin with his thumb and forefinger, guiding your face to his and kissing him deeply. He would be slow, tender, his lips simply ghosting over your own. He would still hold you daintily, his breath fanning over your face as he told you how much he loves you.

You look outside, turning away from Coriolanus, stifling your cries as a single tear rolls down your cheek. Coriolanus can’t help it; he has to say something.

“You know if you ever need someone to talk to I don’t mind. Sometimes it’s easier to tell someone you’re not as close with. Because then it’s like you’re speaking into a void and it doesn’t really matter what you say. But at least you got it off your chest.”

You pause for a moment and look back at him. You contemplate the offer and as much as you want to just talk his ear off about all the ways in which your boyfriend sucks, you’re afraid that he’ll just be more upset with you, thinking somehow he’ll find out.

“It’s ok. I’ll just vent to my mom when I get home.”

“You sure?” He asks, trying to hide his desperation

You reach out and touch his forearm gently. Your affections burn on his skin, your fingertips branding him.

“I’m sure. Thanks anyways.”

You release him, giving him a small smile. You feel like you should apologize and he simply smirks in approval, his eyes following your hand as it leaves him. Then your phone buzzes again. It lights up with a text from Devon and Coriolanus glances outside at the parking lot. He sees your boyfriend pull up, park, and exit his vehicle. For a moment he thinks your boyfriend is about to walk in, but he simply pouts against the car like a grumpy toddler.

“Good luck with your other exams. I know you’ll do fine.”

You walk off, quickly gather your things and walk out the door. He watches you leave and his eyes peer out the window. You trot along to Devon’s car innocently, scared like a newborn deer. He stares at you hawkishly, arms crossed. He shoves his body back into the car once you make it onto the other side, starting it up and you disappear behind the door as it closes. Coriolanus hangs his head in frustration and sighs. You didn’t deserve him.

You belong with him. You belong with Coriolanus.

He felt a tinge of unease thinking about it, not wanting to become as possessive and obsessive as Devon, but he really meant it. He felt he would know how to treat you like a queen. Give you lots of nice things or if you needed cash to buy something you wanted, he’d give it to you. Sell more weed and Xanax to get you whatever you want. But if he could have you, hold you, treat you right, and tell you how much he loves you, he felt like you would want it just as much as he did.

When he gets home, Coriolanus heads up to his room. His cousin and grandma were out shopping for their dresses to wear to his graduation. Coriolanus had picked out a nice pair of black slacks, and a white button up. He wasn’t one for ties normally, and given the heat, he didn’t want to feel too constrained. It was hanging up in his closet, facing him as he enters his room, along with his cap and gown. He sits down at his desk, placing his book bag down and getting his laptop out. He decides to check his grades one last time even though he already knows what it will say. He logs on to his school's website.

Coriolanus C. Snow

Student ID: 1008452024

Current Standing: Senior (Academic Honors)

Current GPA: 4.0

Accumulative GPA: 4.3

Spring Semester 2024

AP Physics A

AP Literature A

European History A

AP Calculus A

Political Science A

Latin Studies A

The corners of his mouth slid up into a half smile. He was of course not upset with himself, but knew that school was the only thing he was really good at, but completely hated. He was still going to go to college, just to get a degree of anything and why would he miss out on the opportunity to sell to his target market. Even though he hated school, and was dragging his feet to go to college, Coriolanus had bigger ambitions. He thought that even if it meant four more years of school and lectures, getting a degree might lead him towards a better career. Coriolanus often heard of people getting into politics and getting intern jobs working for Senators and Representatives. It was truly the only thing that appealed to him. Even though he excelled in nearly every course, politics and civics seemed to have taken over his attention more than his other subjects. And his teachers noted how he seemed to have more interest in those classes versus science or math. So he thought that maybe college could offer an opportunity for him to get him to a place of power, which not even he realizes how much he desires that kind of control.

Then his phone vibrates, taking him off guard and away from his thoughts. It’s you. He immediately picks it up. He can sense your emotions through the phone and the immediate sniffle you give him, confirms his suspicions.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Oh I just had a quick question on this lab I realized I left the last question blank. Do you think we could FaceTime real quick?” You ask tentatively

“Sure.”

You transfer the call to FaceTime him and he picks up. He put the phone against the wall and your beautiful face appears. It’s slightly blurry because of the connection, but Coriolanus can still make out your beautiful features although they are covered by your clearly upset face. You had been crying, hard, your eyes slightly red and puffy.

“So what’s up” Coriolanus continues quickly

“Yeah so it's talking about how I’m supposed to connect my parts of the equation to the students equation in the problem but also explain the reasoning for why part b) works with part a) and show mathematical reasoning.”

Coriolanus smiles and begins to break down the problem in the lab and you start to frantically scribble down on your page, occasionally glancing up showing that you understand and are following along. All the while, he’s just as focused on your beautiful, round eyes, as they concentrate on his words. He tries desperately not to picture those same pretty eyes looking up at him, you on your knees, naked and sucking his cock. He knows that your eyes would look just as attractive and engaged by him. He shakes his head to refocus, but he’s hard under his desk. Luckily it’s just a video call, because his bulge is ever so apparent. Once Coriolanus finishes explaining it, you smile and sigh in relief.

“That makes sense. Thanks Coriolanus…”

“See, next semester I can still help you like this, you know.”

“I guess you’re right” you smile back “is that your bed?” You ask, pointing behind him.

“Yeah.” He confirms, turning around to look at it.

“I like the comforter. Your room looks cool by the way” you follow up

His bed sheets are navy blue plaid with red and white stripes in a grid style pattern. He looks around his room and admires his decor. Coriolanus occupies a room on the top floor. It wasn’t quite cramped like an attic, but it was close to the roof. It was cozy, with a slanted wall. The back wall was uncovered brick, with a wood ceiling. Coriolanus had put a few of his favorite band posters up as well as some vinyl covers. He tried to keep things simple with his bed against one wall and his desk against the other. He had a laptop that sat on his desk and a TV that screwed onto the wall above his desk, which he easily fit his PS4 under.

“Maybe you should come see it in person sometime” he suggests, not realizing what he has said.

When he does, he mentally kicks himself for being so forward, and your eyes dart down to the ground in your own room.

You stupid ass.

As he curses himself, you glance back up with a smile

“Hopefully I can see it at your graduation party. Assuming you're having one?” You follow up

“Possibly. I wasn’t sure, but my family wants to throw me one. What about you?” He asks

“Oh yeah I’m sending invitations out to the whole grade. We are having it at our country club, me and Devon. It's kinda a combination party I guess.” You explain

“Oh fun”

“It’s gonna be at the end of June so when you get the invite, let me know. You can text me and I’ll tell my dad.”

“Yeah sure. Well I won’t keep ya any longer.” Coriolonaus nods, his lips sporting the most charming smile and you match his expression.

“Ok well, if I don’t see you much at school then I’ll see you this weekend at graduation?” You imply, unsure if he would even bother going since he almost never attended non-mandatory school events.

“Yeah, I’ll see you there for sure”

“Hey just real quick, earlier today with Devon, it’s just he gets a bad temper and makes assumptions”

Coriolanus nods, not wanting to scare you off, but he’s invested in having you tell him what more upsets you.

“I’m sorry, that sounds frustrating.”

“Well I guess you’ve always been there to listen so I just wanna say thanks for all these times. You know it’s funny though we get into these fights and I talk to you and feel better then he goes back to normal, well at least for a while then he gets back into his ways, so I’m just hoping he’ll mature more in college. Stop acting like a toddler sometimes” you smirk

Oh you poor thing, you don’t even realize how bad he truly is. You don’t even realize you're stuck in his toxic cycle. Coriolanus wishes he could swoop in and take you away. Treat you better. Coriolanus gives you a sympathetic smile and continues to show he’s listening to you. After a few silent moments, you say goodbye and hang up. Coriolanus feels like he can breathe again. You overwhelm him to a degree he didn’t even think was possible. Which he feels it between his legs, his cock is still rock hard.

Fuck you get him so worked up it’s unbelievable. He knows he’ll have to handle his member in the shower before dinner, but for now he smiles to himself. Coriolanus leans his chair back, mouth agape as he sighs at the ceiling. Maybe he could have a chance with you after all. He doesn’t want to get too hopeful, but something tells him he might just be able to get his chance with you before the summer ends.

꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #fan fiction #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tom blyth characters #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #smut #smut fanfiction #hunger games smut

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wintersoldierslover · 2 years

Text

my fic recs masterlist

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Bucky Barnes:

all bucky barnes

headcanon - blurb - one-shot - series

dbf!bucky - brothers bff - bff’s brother

neighbour - housewife reader

lumberjack - firefighter - bodyguard

priest bucky - college

football player - hockey player - boxer

professor - teacher - librarian/bookshop

coffee shop - soulmate - royal

other AUs - taboo

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Stranger Things characters:

all eddie munson - all steve harrington

eddie and steve (x reader)

billy hargrove - jason carver - mike wheeler

dmitri enzo antonov - jim hopper

robin buckley - nancy wheeler

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Outer Banks Characters:

all Rafe Cameron

all JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank (x reader)

Pope Heyward - Topper Thorton

John B. - Sarah Cameron

Kiara Carrera

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Marvel characters:

Wanda Maximoff - Kate Bishop

Natasha Romanoff - Yelena Belova

Peter Parker - Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers - Stephen Strange

Frank Castle - Matt Murdock

Moon knight - Steven Grant

Joaqín Torres - Clint Barton

Loki Laufeyson - Druig

Eddie Brock - Miles Morales

Miguel O’hara - Hobie Brown

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Harry Potter characters:

Sirius Black - Remus Lupin

James Potter - Poly!Marauders

Lily potter - Cedric Diggory

George Weasley - Fred Weasley

Severus Snape - Tom Riddle

Draco Malfoy

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Avatar (James Cameron) charachters:

neteyam - aonung - lo’ak

rotxo - kiri - spider

jake sully - neytiri - tsu’tey

tonowari - ronal - colonel quaritch

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Top Gun chracters:

Fanboy - Hangman - Rooster - Bob

Iceman

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Wednesday characters:

Xavier Thorpe - Ajax Petropolus

Wednesday Addams - Divina

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Bridgerton characters:

Anthony Bridgerton - Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

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Criminal Minds characters:

Spencer Reid - Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

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The Last of Us characters:

Joel Miller - Ellie Williams

Abby Anderson

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The Devil All The Time characters:

Tommy Matson - Lee Bodecker

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Uncharted characters:

Nate Drake - Sam Drake

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Euphoria characters:

Elliot (Euphoria) - Fezco

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On My Block characters:

Mario Martinez - Oscar Diaz

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Modern Family characters:

Luke Dunphy - Alex Dunphy

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Ted Lasso:

Roy Kent - Jamie Tartt

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NHL players:

Matthew Ktachuk - Trevor Zegras

Nolan Patrick - Tyler Seguin

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Actors:

Sebastian Stan - Joseph Quinn

Jamie Campbell Bower - Danny Ramirez

Drew Starkey - Rudy Pankow

Ben Hardy - Bella Ramsey

Jenna Ortega

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Miscellaneous characters:

Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz - Marcus Baker

Rodrick Heffley - Hunter Sylvester

Lloyd Hansen - Ari Levinson

Nick Fowler - Tangerine

Rhett Abbott - Hayden ‘Harvard Hottie’

Colin (Not Okay) - Min Ho (Xo, Kitty)

Ash (No Exit) - James Maguire (Derby Girls)

Jake Peralta - Nick Miller - Brian O’conner

Anakin Skywalker - Bruno Madrigal

Tadashi Hamada - Kakashi Hatake

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Miscellaneous real people:

Billie Eilish - AEW Hook

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*Updated whenever there’s a new character <3

1K notes · View notes

marksbear · 2 years

Note

Dom!Billy and his sub!boyfriend having sex for hours? Like it started with them making love after school but now they can't stop, just fucking hard and rough, fucking like rabbits. The bed broke a long time ago, but even that didn't stop them. Making every single possible position, stop to drink water, look at each other in silence for a couple of seconds until they kiss passionately again

I had way too many ideas for this. Might write for Billy more. I kinda made reader like Nate Jacobs but not as toxic and evil, more like a popular tall giant.

Warning! Popular reader and billy, SMUT,Bdsm, Football player reader, overstimulate, floor sex and wall sex, smoking, fangirls, manhandling, rough sex, physical like fighting but softly. Mean Billy.

Dom Billy Hargrove x Sub Male reader

You don't even remember how this sex marathon started. But now your on the floor head pressed down to the ground ass in the air while your boyfriend is brutally fucking your hole.

The both of you covered in cum and sweat plus tears but that's just you.

Let me go back and how this all happened.

During math class Billy kept looking back at you. You didn't think much until he kept looking at you from across the class and you got a little annoyed from his starring.

You turned your head back to the teacher taking notes until a paper hit the back of your head. You put the pencil down and look around to see who threw it and see your boyfriend smirking at you. You sigh and pick up the paper ball and try to open it carefully.

When you get it open you lean down to read it.

"Your place after school. I want to show you something- Love B." The paper said when you mumbled "Idiot doesn't even ask me." under your breath. You turn your body around to face Billy who already has a cocky smirk and give him a thumbs up before turning back around.

BELL RINGS TIME FOR NEXT PERIOD.

Everyone quickly packs their things and meets up with their friends walking to their next period. It always takes you a while to pack your stuff up but your boyfriend always waits for you. "Done B." Billy quickly opens the door for you as the two of you walk out. "Bills, I swear if this surprise is that were fucking-----" "N/n were gonna make love this time." Billy cuts you off whispering into your ear. You roll your eyes and continue walking Billy to class.

"This is your stop Bills." You say to him but don't get a response. You turn to face him and sigh once you see him flirting with a girl. "Bye b see you at lunch." You say under your breath. Quickly walking away to your next class and speed walking when some of your fangirls try to speak to you.

AFTER THAT PERIOD TIME FOR LUNCH.

You walk in the cafeteria later than usual looking around at all of the full tables. Usually you'll sit with the football boys. You were the captain and the boys still call you the captain even though it's basketball season now.

The table is full. More than usual. The boys girlfriends are sitting with them plus the cheerleaders with some of the basketball players there so, you didn't bother squeezing in the table.

You look around for more tables. You saw the mean girl table was kinda open but you didn't wanna hear all of the gossip. Your boyfriend was sitting at a crowded table full of girls who had a crush on him so you ignored them. Hellfire was open but for the sake of your reputation it's a kind no.

Then you spot a table only one girl sat at it and she was from your reading class. Her name was Casey... no Cindy. Whatever her name was you made your mind sitting there. Once you reached the table you sat down across from her messing with strands of your hair.

The classmate stares at you in awe and makes you feel awkward. You look up at her and ask "Uhm hey cas... I was wondering if you can do me a favor?" You prayed to God that you got her name right. She smiled and nodded. You open your wallet and hand her a five and ten dollar bill. "Can you buy me some lunch? And with the extra money you can buy yourself some." She quickly takes it and walks to the line.

She came back with two trays and hands one to you with a huge smile on her face and sits on the right of you. As you two eat and talk the whole lunch gets quiet and looking at the two of you.

"Oh my god Is that Y/n the god of Hawkins sitting with a nobody." One of the girls pipes up from Billy table causing Billy to look at his boyfriend.

Lunch ends

"Bye Casey. I had a great time talking to you. How about we do this again sometime?" You ask the smaller girl who has the biggest blush on her face and nodding her head frantically. She attacks you with a tight up to which you pat her back lightly. The pair pulls away from the hug and goes their separate ways.

You begin to walk to your next class in an empty hallway but get stopped by your boyfriend who pins you to the wall roughly. "Y/n were going home early." He takes your hand dragging you outside the school not listening to your questions and pleas to stay.

He shoves you in his car and he gets in the driving seat taking off while blasting his music. You stare at the window then look back at Billy who's shouting something but you can't hear from the music. The two of you arrive at your house and quickly get inside locking the door.

SMUT BEGINS.

"Strip baby..." Billy whispers in your ear before heading upstairs to your room. You quickly take off your clothes still by the front door and rush up the stairs almost falling.

Once you arrive in your room your eyes scan Billy naked body and his hard cock standing tall with no shame. You quickly shut the door and get on top of Billy kissing him. Billy pushes you to your back opening your legs and tugs on your cock a few times before wrapping his hand around it jerking it off at a slow pace.

You roll your hips into his hand pulling away from the kisses moaning softly running your hand through Billy's curls. Billy spits in his hands here and there jerking your cock faster getting it all wet. Billy kisses trails along your neck and collar bone before sucking and biting your nipples. You moan and scream Billy name begging for him to go faster "B-billy please sir please go--- faster Ohh Fuck! S-sir please." Billy finally does what you ask and jerks your cock faster than before squeezing it and slapping it here and there. You wrap your legs around his waist and drop your hands from his hair to his shoulders clawing them.

"Sir! Sir i'm gonna cu-mm. Can I cum sir please please please. I've been a-a good boyy..." You beg your cock twitching rapidly and pre oozing out of the sensitive tip. "Cum you whore. You fucking greedy slut already cumming from my hand." You scream in pleasure once you do finally cum. Getting on Billy's hand and some landing on your chest. Billy quickly gathers some cum off your stomach and spits into his hand and lubes up his own cock from the cum and spit. Once it was all wet he spat onto your hole a couple times before pushing himself in.

You scream in pleasure and cover your mouth with your hands moaning and screaming into it. Billy snaps his hips all the way in not even letting you catch your breath fucking you in a fast and rough pace and his hands on the head board. Most likely your neighbors can hear the horny teenage couple moans and groans. Skin slapping can be heard all through the house with the bed squeaking and shaking. Billy is calling you all sort of mean and dirty things but you don't care cause of the pleasure around you. "AhhHh--OH f-fuckk! Sir!" You scream throwing your head back when Billy goes inside of you deeper. Billy roughly slaps you across your face "Shut up you whore!" You gasp and let out a smile and laugh when he keeps slapping or even sometimes punching you but never too hard.

Then he hits your prostate and you almost went to heaven. "SiRrr!! OoooH FUCKK Billy-billy! RiGht there!" You moan out almost came right there and then. Billy smirks and gets abusing that spot in every single thrust. "CuMming!! SiR i-im cumming!" You shoot your load all over you and Billy. Not that longer Billy cums right after you. You look around seeing your head board is broken and your bed is sink down almost touching the floor. Billy picks you up from the bed and pins you to the nearest wall fucking you onto it.

This time your moans are chocked by sobs and cries. Billy biting onto your neck and shoulders. Your cock is aching in pain cum still dripping out of it. You drool onto the wall. "BILLY!! bills... Im cumming! Im g----gonna cum." You cum on to the wall painting it with your fluids. "FUCK! Take it Y/n. Take y cum like the slut you are! You're nothing but a toy to me!" Billy cums again deeply into you and lots of the cum overflows and gets on the floor.

Billy who still isn't done yet drops you to the floor quickly getting you on your knees and his hand pushed against your head fucking into your hole. You cry from the overstimulation and tears and cum hitting the floor. Your mouth is wide open but nothing is coming out. All of your drool and tears wetting your face. Billy grabs you onto your locks and lifts up your head bringing it back down to the floor harshly. You feel Billy hot cum inside of you again and you look down seeing the mess you and him made while you two were on the floor you had at least had came about three times without noticing. You feel Billy pull out of you and walk out of the room.

"N/n did I hit you too hard?" Billy walks back into the room and asks handing you a cup of water caressing your head. "No. Bills y'now you hit me worse. And that I took worse." You smile at him. After a couple of gulps of water you hand him the glass to which he takes with a thank you and drinks some before putting it on your night stand. The two of you got quiet enjoying each others presence until yall make eye contact. You two quickly get into a passionate kiss arms wrapped around each other in a tight hug. The two of you make out for a while until you pull away pushing Billy on his back and straddle his hips. "Can I ride you sir?" You ask and Billy gives you a nod.

SMUT OVER

The horny couple proceeds to fuck for the entire afternoon and night even until the next morning all over the house even in Y/n parents bedroom and at the kitchen.

Next morning Y/n wakes up in pain and sore. Y/n thinks he lost his voice. And look around to see that they even fucked in the garage. You groan and slips from under Billy's tight hold and drags him and billy to the bathroom to take him and Billy a bath.

Once the couple got all clean and the house clean Billy made him and Y/n some breakfast. "God Billy the house smells like sex." Y/n groans into his boyfriend's shoulders who's currently on his lap.

After the two get done eating they get ready for school and Billy wears your clothes. Both of you let out noticeable marks clamming each other. But no one in school ever takes the hint how both of you are taken by each other.

The two of you sit at the porch of the house chairs smoking and enjoying each other time. You turn your head when you see your neighbors staring at you and Billy. "Good morning Mrs.Goodwin and Mr Goodwin!" You shout to the middle aged couple. The couple mumble a good morning Y/n and rush back into their house. Billy lets out his cigarette and takes your hand dragging you out of the chair to the car.

THE END.

#billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #x male reader #stranger things x male reader #the bear club

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