#i had it tied to my backpack (yes tied that was the only way it would stay on) but then i graduated lol
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where did u get nether star charm I love him........
no idea! a friend gave it to me as a gift, it was an old piece of jewelry. think it was a necklace? and i also think it wasn't his, i think it was his grandma's...? so who knows how old it is or where it came from :0
it's an opal in the middle, can't get a good picture of it but just know it shines orange when light hits it. the star key ring thing that holds it together was not a part of it, that was added on later so i could hook it onto stuff
#prized possession tbh but i didnt have anything to stick it on for a while#i had it tied to my backpack (yes tied that was the only way it would stay on) but then i graduated lol#asks#fishbonez#edit i tried finding similar shaped ones but i cant find one that looks like this :/#closest i found was a morning star. i have no idea what that is im not gonna lie i THINK it's religious???#so if i had to guess. this is probably gonna get me mistaken for a christian kjfhg#no sorry im just obsessed with a minecraft religion for some pig guy 😔
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i was replaying part two and all i can think of is the scene where dina and ellie talk about if anyone is still making movies. imagine ellie doing everything she can to find a camera so you and her can make your own type of movies ?? id explode.
Only on Camera (Ellie Williams x reader smut) 18+
Hiiiiii. Loved the request and has been on my mind ever since you asked for it. Bartender Ellie is still on the way but this just inspired me so much!!! ( also this was written at 3am so pls ignore any errors ooph) (W.C 3k)
Scissoring, tribbing, fingering, oral, making out, spit play (only a tiny bit), squirting, pet names.
read this.
</3.
If you asked Ellie, she'd tell you that she never thought she would be like one of those girls that she had seen on the smut magazines or pictures she had come across in patrols or in scavenges for trading material. The thought had briefly crossed her mind while she was on a patrol with Dina, and she had asked her if she thought 'Was anyone still making movies out there.' but she kept her lips firmly shut.
Then she had actually discovered those tapes in Eugene’s Library.
Ellie never watched them whenever she returned to the library, but she was a woman possessed. She had to make trips back whenever she was patrolling the creek trails with Dina, and she would always take some weed back with her to trade or to smoke with you. She had even began trading the leaves with the others in Jackson swapping them for little things that she thought you would love like clothes, certain snacks or trinkets you would store in safe places.
She loved seeing you happy and sometimes wished she could capture these moments of you smiling up at her or hugging her to say thank you forever. Make them permanent and tangible so she could hold onto it for the rest of her life.
That was when she thought back on those tapes again. Not thinking of the girls or what they were doing on them but of you, and how you would look better on camera than any of them. Clothes on or not.
And that was how it started. Her signing in at any patrol spot and then begging her partner to give her an hour to turn the place over to find what she was looking for. She began expanding her search to places that weren't necessarily on the patrol route but still needed to be checked out, schools, malls that seemed to be as stocked as could be in the apocalypse, certain houses that hadn't been too badly ransacked and lone stores that could have what she needed.
Nothing. To say she was getting frustrated was an understatement, but she didn't give up. She wanted to try. So, she kept looking and bribing her partner to look the other way. Then one day it clicked. After weeks of ransacking and mauling properties she looked in the place where it had all started. She tied Shimmer outside of Eugene's library and got to work immediately.
Finally in one of the drawers she found a handheld camera, still in good condition and as luck would have it still had storage. "Yes." She sighed into her frozen hands and silently thanked the soul of the now deceased Eugene. She stuffed the camera into her backpack and rode back to Jackson with a new stride in her step.
She didn't bring up the idea to you immediately, but she did bring the camera to show you. Despite her frantic search Ellie wanted to ease the idea of being on tape onto you as gently as possible. But it didn't take long for her to ask.
It was a rare evening that the both of you had off, Ellie relieved from her patrols for the day and you from your duties in the stables and gardens of Jackson. You spent it how you always did. At each other's respective houses, this time it was at Ellie's, and you had spent the day watching movies and keeping each other warm against the bitter cold of the town's winters.
You started off watching the first few films side by side, sharing a blanket, then Ellie took your legs and swung them over her lap in the name if making you comfier. Soon after you had simply gravitated towards each other, each movement had you growing closer, negating any space between the two of you until you had gotten close enough to sit in her lap.
You slid your leg on the other side of hers, so that you could straddle her and hear her ask a simple "you okay to keep going?" Your responses were always the same. A small kiss to her lips and a "yes els, keep going." mumbled against her lips.
The dim light of the movie, kept Ellie's flushed face visible to you as you stroked the side of her face and leaned in, being met by her halfway as she arched up to kiss you. You always felt so foggy whenever you kissed her.
Like all the heat in your body would suddenly flare up and you could short circuit. You felt as though your heartbeat had started for the first time and you couldn't get any oxygen into your lungs. But you didn't need any. Ellie was all you needed. With her hands gripping your waist before moving the soft flesh of your ass.
You moaned into her mouth at the touch, sliding your hands up into her hoodie palming her tits and sliding your tongue into her mouth which was already open and accepting you into her. Your heart suddenly swelled at this, feeling the love the girl under you held for you and only you.
Ellie leaned back and pulled away from you leaning her head against the arm of the couch, looking at you for a second, lips shiny with a small string of spit connecting the two of you together. She wanted to ask you desperately but didn't to make things weird now especially when she wanted to take care of you. You saw the furrow on her brow and whispered to her "Els, are you okay over there?" looking at the expression on her face. You moved to get off, but she kept her hands firmly planted before opening her eyes fully and settling them onto you.
"Y-yeah just wanted to ask you about something. You can a hundred percent say no, but I just wanted to see if you maybe wanted to-" "It's about that camera, isn't it?" You cut off your poor girl's rambles feeling she'd never actually ask and keep circling. You looked into her eyes lovingly and smiled softly, continuing to stroke the swells of her cheeks.
"I want to if you want to els." This caused Ellie to groan under you and offer reassurance of "we can stop anytime you want just say," or "we don't have to you know?". You knew she was assuming and worrying you were doing this for her, but the idea had popped into your head ever since she placed the camera into your hands. You wanted to make sure your love lasted forever. On film and with each other too. You lead Ellie to her bed, hand in hand and sat her down, kissing her before setting the camera up on her desk opposite the bed, facing the both of you before flicking it on and confirming the red dot was flickering.
You turned to her pulling your shirt over your head and placing it on her desk and heard her breath hitch at the act that she would have this captured on film forever.
You looked back at the girl on her bed, elbows holding her up as she leaned back on them gazing up at you with her shining green eyes. "C'mere." she said holding her hands out to you beckoning you over.
You took them and she pulled you down onto the bed, the movement causing you to realise how much slick had pooled between your legs and probably coated your underwear.
Ellie kissed your cheeks before pulling off her hoodie and her jeans, leaving her in a black wifebeater and her underwear. You took a shaky deep breath as she crawled in the space where your legs were open and lay on top of you, who wrapped your thighs around her middle in response to the intrusion of your space.
You helped her pull off your pants leaving you only in your underwear. You shivered and pulled her in for a kiss which she gave you but quickly pulled back in favour of getting up and gripping your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed to make sure the camera would get all of what you were giving her making your shriek at the sudden movement.
You huffed and cried out as she placed a kiss to your underwear. "shh" Ellie placated you rubbing her hands up your thighs to soothe you. She mouthed at you through the garments, listening to you shuffle and moan out at the contact. Her tongue traced around your clit before sucking on the bundle of nerves, making you cover your mouth as your jaw loosened and moans escaped your lips.
"Ellie, please don't tease I can't take it." you groaned, but the girl was through tormenting you, pushing your underwear aside to taste you properly, spitting on your clit before sucking in your clit again. She slid her fingers against your folds, feeling you shiver against her, as she pushed into you, and settled against the spongy spot inside you. She didn't stay still though, as per your request. She never was good at denying you anything.
She couldn't get enough of the taste sticking to her tongue and decided she wanted more before shoving her tongue inside of you after sliding her fingers out of you gently. You were so close you sobbed telling her and reached out to pull her short hair closer to your body scratching at the back of your neck. She loved when you did this groaning at the small bits of pain you were giving her she thought while her nose bumped against your clit due to your hips moving.
She hoped the camera wouldn't pick up on the way she was grinding against her own legs folded beneath her, to get some friction from the wetness in her underwear.
She felt you cream and cum around her tongue, she lapped up as much as she could, tasting the tartness and sweetness of you in her mouth as you came on her lips. She pulled away once she felt you whine, knowing you would be overstimulated too fast if she continued so she kissed her way back up your body, grasped your jaw and you opened your lips before she even said the word "open."
She let the liquid pool into her mouth then spat straight onto your outstretched tongue. She pushed her fingers into your mouth and felt you swallow around them. Ellie groaned watching you swallow yourself down with blown out pupils. "That's it." she said watching you, "My fucking good girl." You hummed, suckling on her thumb until there was nothing of you left to devour.
You leaned up to kiss her then whispered in her ear "want you on me els, please?" You leaned back feeling yourself clench around nothing, aching again to feel her again. Ellie let you wrap her arms around her neck, pressing your tits against hers and kissing up her jawline to try and convince her of something she was going to do from the start.
"Of course, baby." she whispered, kissing your cheeks back and cradling your head. She began taking off the rest of her clothes as you leaned back, letting her climb on top of you. She grabbed the back of your knees spreading them, moulding you into the position she wanted you in. You complied with her, running your hands down the lines of her abs, completely enamoured with the girl on top of you.
She sank down slowly biting her full lips between her teeth to bite back the moans that were threatening to escape them. You wanted to hear her though, so you grabbed onto her hips gently to start fucking back onto her, coaxing her voice out of her lungs. She gasped and moaned, feeling your clits bump and your collective wetness start to mix together. "holy fuck." she groaned. She would never get used to the feeling of grinding against you. Every time she did it, she felt like she was living for the first time.
She looked at you, blushing and trying to keep humping against her without finishing before her and had to close her eyes so as not to cum at the sight of it alone but fuck she was close. "Think I'm goanna cum oh shit-." She said cutting herself off as she felt the heat rise in her core and down to her clit as she felt herself tighten again. "so close els, cum on me please." You begged the girl above you.
She came listening to your babbling underneath you. Ellie gushed and came just as her clit glided up against you, completely coated in your slick and felt herself float out of her body as her eyes rolled back into her skull. She also felt herself gush and squirt around you, holding onto your hands to keep herself grounded and so she didn't fall off your quivering body. She triggered your own orgasm as she felt your folds shake, squeezing around nothing but her slick.
Once she finished panting and recovered from her orgasm she got up, remembering the camera was still on the both of you. She turned it off watching the light blink out and went back into bed after grabbing towels to clean you both. She dressed you in a shirt and kissed you.
"Thank you, pretty girl. Can't wait to watch it." She grinned looking over at you while tossing the camera between her hands, as you blushed and covered your face, before jokingly slapping her arm.
"As long as we watch it together, I want to see you squirt on me." It was her turn to blush at this, but she leaned in before closing her eyes to kiss you again and say, "Love you baby." in a hushed and enamoured tone.
"Love you too els." You said fondly, wrapping your arms around the girl, covering you both in her sheets and nuzzling her nose.
#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x reader smut#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x y/n#ellei williams tlou2#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#the last of us part ii#tlou2#ellie smut
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Leah, London Colney, “I may aswell just retire”
legacy II l.williamson
"lee! baby we've gotta go in five have you packed her bag?" you yelled out from your daughters bedroom, sat on the bed with the three year old on your lap as you quickly braided her hair so it would be out of her face all day.
“i have snacks, her blanket, her mini ball, her teddy, her inhaler, her water bottle, her headphones, her beanie, her rain jacket, a change of clothes and a story book.” leah recounted as she burst into the room with the bright red backpack in hand.
"gunner!" mila chirped as you tied off the second braid and your wife looked like she could have exploded with joy. "yes you are, mummys little future gunner." leah cooed, tickling her stomach as you rolled your eyes.
"she means the dinosaur einstein." you pointed to the bright green mascot sat on the desk as leah turned.
"you are so mean to me when we have early morning training darling, i've half a mind to tell jonas you aren't allowed to train until eleven." leah sighed with a shake of her head as you stood and hoisted mila onto your hip.
"you love it mrs williamson." you grinned, pecking her lips and breezing past as she followed suit with the backpack in hand. "maybe only a little mrs williamson." you stiffened as her hand smacked against your ass.
"leah! the baby." you hissed in warning, your daughter in a critical parrot phase as you'd both lovingly dubbed it, repeating nearly everything and anything she watched either of you do or say.
and with your wifes potty mouth and tendency to gossip it had gotten the pair of you into hot water more than once in the last few weeks.
like just yesterday when leahs mum had tried to put her down for a nap and was promptly told to fuck off, something mila had heard leah shout at the tv while watching a premier league game when you both thought she was asleep in bed, not hovering by the doorway with eager little ears.
"im not a baby!" mila protested with a scowl that was scarily similar to the blonde standing behind her. "yes you are, you could be forty and you'll still be my baby." leah shrugged as your daughter huffed and you cleared your throat.
"our baby." leah corrected with a charming smile as you hummed, taking your daughters backpack out of her hand and grabbing the car keys as leah made sure to take both of your gym bags as the three of you headed out.
"shark song!" mila cheered as you buckled her into her car seat and leah slipped into the drivers side after tossing all the bags in the back. "bubba isn't there any other song you'd like?" leah asked hopefully with a pained winced as you closed your door and sat in your own seat.
"shark song! shark song! shark song!" the three year old chanted pumping her fists and kicking her feet out as if she'd just won the world cup and you grinned, phone connecting and clicking play on baby shark as leah groaned.
"i'm going to murder kyra." leah stated bluntly toward the culprit behind milas obsession with the overtly catchy kids tune, shifting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway as you leaned across the console and kissed her cheek.
"just look how happy it makes her baby." you chuckled nodding behind you as leah glanced to your daughter who was wiggling and dancing in her seat, screaming along to the lyrics.
"she's lucky she's cute." leah shook her head, smile tugging at her lips as she faced forward and sped onto the main road.
"well she gets that from you."
~
"leah! there is no way she's going to eat all that." your eyes widened in disbelief as the blonde placed down your daughters breakfast plate in front of you before sitting on your other side with her own.
"mama i'm a growing girl!" mila protested, echoing leahs exact words from dinner last night as you shot your wife a filthy look who wasted no time pecking your lips apologetically.
"me!" mila craned her head back as leah grinned, attacking the three year olds face with kisses as everyone at the table visibly melted at the sound of her giggles echoing around the room.
"hey mila can aunty beffy have some bacon pretty please?" beth asked with a smile from across the table. "good luck." leah mumbled with a shake of her head. "no! my bacon." mila frowned and covered her plate protectively.
"well if there was ever any doubt she's leahs, thats squashed it." kim shrugged as your wife grinned and pushed her playfully. "but mila im so hungry! i might fall off my chair from starvation." beth groaned dramatically, collapsing into her girlfriend who looked down at her unamused.
"didn't ask don't care." mila chirped your own words from dinner last night as leah choked on her eggs and kim whacked her on the back. "that ones on you!" your wife warned as you blushed, mumbling a gentle reminder to your daughter about manners.
"hey mila can aunty wally have a piece of bacon please?" lia asked from your other side as mila nodded, pushing her plate closer and wiggling herself up from your lap as you hurried to steady her as she stood on your knees.
"mila!" beth gasped in betrayal, lia scooting her chair back as your daughter clambered over to sit with her now instead, seemingly more than happy to share her breakfast with her godmother who gave the blonde across the table a victorious smirk as she bit down on a piece of bacon.
~
"i play now?" you looked down with a smile as a tiny body clung onto your leg, mila recognizing the sound of the whistle to mean she was now able to run around the pitch freely with her aunties as training was over.
"you play now. who do you wanna kick with today bubba?" you squatted down and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. "aunty lessi!" your daughter held her arms up at your best friend whose face lit up.
"now how could i ever say no to you?" the blonde picked her up right away before tossing her in the air and catching her, pulling a face and making mila giggle. "careful less." you warned sternly, the girl waving you off as she grabbed a ball.
"whose on the other team?" alessia whispered to your daughter as a few of the girls lined up, mila frowning as she looked them over. "lots, steffy, mummy and kimmy!" mila decided, simply naming all four girls who lined up making everyone grin.
"okay. remember what we practiced at our sleepover?" alessia placed mila down and squatted to her level, hands on her shoulders as your daughter nodded. "no mercy!" mila yelled making a few of the girls snicker.
"that was aunty mary, not me." alessia teased, pulling down mila's beanie over her eyes as she whined and quickly fixed it as her ball was placed by her feet. "okay. go!" alessia clapped, jogging beside her as your daughter gave it a kick.
one by one she kicked past her defenders, the girls all falling dramatically to the ground making her giggle as alessia continued to coach her forward, now only leah standing in the way of the goal.
"leah!" you called out in warning, recognizing your wifes competitive drive ran deep and she had no problem teaching your daughter 'how to lose gracefully' despite the fact it wasn't a lesson you'd say leah actually knew herself.
though if the blonde defender heard you she didn't acknowledge it, smirk on her face as the girls all cheered for mila who had an adorably concentrated frown on her features now.
"shoot shoot shoot!" alessia encouraged with a clap, mila kicking the ball as hard as she could and you held your breath knowing it had been a long morning and with your daughter due for a nap soon it wouldn't take much to set her off if leah chose not to let her have this goal.
though you breathed a sigh of relief as the ball rolled through your wifes legs and she fell to the ground with a dramatic cry, a soft smile on your face as mila jumped on top of her with a cheer.
"goaaaalll!" alessia cupped her hands over her mouth and cheered, scooping the tiny blonde up and hoisting her on her shoulders, sprinting around on a victory lap and assuring she held on very tightly.
you grabbed a bottle of water and made your way over toward leah who sat up, accepting your hand as you helped her up and were quickly drawn into her hold.
"does it still hurt she's following in my footsteps and not yours?" you teased, squealing as leahs cold hands crept up your top and she playfully bit your neck.
"with a goal like that under her belt i may as well just retire." leah sighed, arms wound around your neck as she gently swayed the two of you side to side, both of you watching on fondly as your daughter raced around with her auties.
"shit its past her nap time isn't it?" leah realised, training having had a delayed start due to a sprinkler malfunction as you nodded and your wife groaned, seeing mila was still very much so wide awake which would throw her off her regular schedule.
"oh she's going to be a nightmare to get down tonight."
#woso community#woso#woso x reader#leah williamson#engwnt#woso blurbs#woso imagine#woso fanfics#leah williamson x reader
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I don't think non-New Yorkers know how funny Miles and Wiles having Jordans is.
Like it's REALLY funny and really Brooklyn - New York of him.
Miles, Wiles, and Jordan Sneakers - Clever Cultural Characterisation
[A MEDIUM length post were I talk about Brooklyn Sneaker Culture and it's use in ATSV]
Have you ever wondered -
Why is Miles the only one wearing branded clothing?
When all other brands are either spoofed or replaced, why is Miles - the main character wearing such VERY BLATANTLY branded sneakers?
And why is Nike, a random shoe brand, the choice to go with?
There's a reason the creators show Miles' creativity and personality through his shoes.
And it's because
JORDANS HAVE A CHOKEHOLD - on Black Guys in High School from NYC
And this might be bizarre to some and idk if it translates to other black communities- (please tell me if it does)
But here in Brooklyn, almost every masc guy in my high school was OBSESSED with Jordans. Most guys I knew can name certain releases by looking at them, and had multiple pairs in different colors
JORDANS WERE LIKE SOCIAL CURRENCY - from middle school all the way to college. And it's a very cultural thing here in Brooklyn.
What colors you had and how many are something you bragged about. Many guys own multiple different colorways of Jordan's and will WAIT in line hours for a new release.
There's a store call Flight Club here in the city, and sometimes you'll see the line going out the door, of well dressed black guys waiting for the new release of Nikes to start going on sale.
Of course Adidas is popular, but no where near the culture hold as Nike to us.
I remember begging my parents for like a week until they brought me Black Air Force 1s
And I STILL have them over ten years later. They're too small, but they're holding up well. And even until this day, my home town is lined with sneaker stores. There's one around the corner from me rn.
Here it really is natural for guys LOVE JORDANS and to use them as a form of self expression. It's not odd for Fashion is on the minds of black guys in Brooklyn.
Even in high school, guys were matching their outfits and always trying to get the latest brand name. Mind you, this is an inner-city school full of 98% low income black kids. For us that was a social language.
Some shoes even have their own 'personalities' tied to them:
For example:
Black Air Force 1s (the one above) are often called 'hit a lick' shoes. Hitting a lick means to rob someone. So there's this idea that if you have those on you about that action lol it's an chill inside joke though it isn't serious.
White Air Forces are seen for guys who DON'T do that because they're too worried about getting their white ass shoes so clean.
Keep the above in mind for the next part
Hair cuts - like shape-ups and fades, Backpacks, and Shoes are three big things that were a fashion influence in my high school HARD.
Trends also are a big thing here, and they come on really quickly. I remember for maybe four years a brand called Sprayground got big, and after all SO many high school kids started collecting these $80 bags in all different colors. I wanted one so bad.
A lot of them had illustrations of things like money or weed.
If you see a mfer with the shark mouth bookbag RUN he's the biggest fuckboy you've ever met.
Which is to say - !42 WOULD HAVE ONE OF THESE BAGS
Guys get SO INTO THEM
How many of the iconic orange boxes that you lined up in your room (yes they keep them) was something you boasted about.
MFers would deadass have this in the corner of their room and bring you over talking about sum 'it's decor' SIR IT'S A HOARDING ADDICTION
They'll walk different, and NEVER squat, because doing that might crease the leather along the toe box. And creased Jordans are not fresh so what's the point - they're ruined. A guy in my class use to being plastic bags and tie them around his ankles when it rained then he walked home.
Like look at this Reddit post I found -
'is he stupid' 😭😭that's so mean but like here EVERY guy just assumes you know not to do that to Jordans ever
And that's why the creators do it - AND THEY DO IT WELL
And it's so impressive their deep understanding of this very specific thing that happens in mostly black high schools in NYC.
Cause that's not something you can just search up and research really.
Because of our culture - Miles & Miles!42's shoes are a silent language in their own right.
Like Miles!42's shoes are one of the first things we see about him.
They're the first thing we're suppose to notice - because it let's is compare him to Miles.
Miles' Jordans are iconic - the white and red shoes.
They're clean and white, with pops of color and personality. Like Miles, he's about being the good of Spider-man, while also getting himself and adding his own colors to it.
And because it's natural to the character and the culture, they let his shoes be the signal that Wiles is not like Miles. He has a different style, in fighting, in speaking, in personality, from his hair literally down to his shoes.
REMEMBER HOW I TALKED ABOUT SHOES HAVING PERSONALITY AND THE BLACK AIR FORCES ??????
Wiles' shoes are VERY similar to Black Air Force 1s. It's basically that with utility bags and purple detailing.
That's a signal - like I said: WILES IS ABOUT THAT ACTION. He's here to get his lick back.
From his standpoint, as a black guy from Brooklyn with his personality, he would know about this culture. He'd know the message black Nikes send where he's from.
It'd be natural for him - Hell yeah he'd go for the black Jordans.
He's speaking his social language.
Wiles' doesn't have to say 'fuck around and find out' he got on Air Forces with bags on them - HE'S ABOUT IT.
The writers didn't wake up one day and say 'Oh Nike wants a brand deal?! Okay cool'.
They don't show Wiles' shoes to be like 'LOOKY BUY THE NICE SHOES' - We are shown this shot
For them to be like : This is who Miles!42 is.
Because of sneakers.
Isn't that COOL? ISN'T IT. ISN'T IT COOL THE SOCIAL DYNAMICS OF INNER CITY BLACK KIDS IN NEW YORK??
But it's really funny to me to see Wiles shoes and be like 'damn he bout to fuck Miles up'.
THE IDEA OF THEM FEIGNING OVER JORDANS Fyyofydyogoc
Do guys where you are do this?? Like is this a thing y'all know any Sneakerheads.
Anyway I would put a pic of Hobie but I'm on mobile so they won't let me and I'm lazy
Bye.
#no proofreading fuck it we ball#spiderman#atsv#marvel#spider man#across the spiderverse#atsv miles#atsv analysis#miles morales#miles g#miles 42#Earth 42 miles#Earth 42 Miles Morales
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Warnings: single dad! baji, preschool teacher! reader.
Notes: this one right here could be- I mean- maybe…unedited read at your own risk.
Keisuke is panicking.
He keeps glancing in his rear view mirror at his little girl who’s happily humming along to whatever is playing from her iPad.
She doesn’t seem to share the same bone chilling fear as him. His grip on the steering wheel is tight enough that his knuckles have gone white.
They’re fifteen minutes away from his daughter’s official first day of school and Baji is five seconds away from turning this car around and taking her to work with him.
She giggles in the backseat and Baji swallows a lump of emotion and sighs when it settles in the pit of his stomach like lead.
“You excited princess?”
Her little head bobs, her pigtails (and the giant bows tied around each one) sways with the motion.
“Words Kaori, remember to use your words,” he reminds her.
“Yes daddy,” she replies, eyes falling to her iPad once more.
Baji gulps when the gates to the school come into view. He takes a deep breath and pulls into the driveway. The parking lot isn’t full because he’s twenty minutes early. When he finds a spot however his panic mounts.
This is real. This is happening. His daughter is starting school.
“We’re here!” she squeals when she finally looks up from the screen. She wriggles in her car seat, clearly wanting out.
Baji frowns.
“Daddy!” she insists. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”
Baji wants to cry. “Okay, princess. Okay,” he resigns himself to being miserable for the rest of the day. Perhaps for the rest of his existence. This is where it all starts. With school.
He hoists her out of the car seat and grabs her backpack and lunchbox. Keisuke is extremely proud of the fact that he, Keisuke Baji, despite his questionable past, has raised a daughter on his own.
He’d had to learn to comb and take care of hair other than his own (a lot goes into having healthy hair apparently), accept the color pink (of which there were over fifty shades), pretend tea parties didn’t make him uncomfortable (it’s the chairs), wear glitter make up (glitter can never be cleaned correctly), sing and dance (he’s a performer but only for her) and of course, what self respecting father of a girl hadn’t perfect mani/pedis.
His life had taken a dramatic three sixty when Kaori was born. But there wasn’t a single day since then that he regretted. He loves her more than he can actually put into words.
Which explained why he was on the verge of tears as he fit his arm through the strap of her sparkly, pink backpack and wrapped his hand around her much smaller one.
On the steps leading up to the front doors stood Kaori’s teacher. He’d met you previously when he’d registered Kaori and even then, dressed in jeans and a t shirt you’d been beautiful. His panic subsides a little when you give him a small smile.
“Mr. Baji,” you barely spare him a glance and Baji might have been insulted if not for the way your gaze immediately drops to his daughter. “And you must be little Kaori,” you squat to her level and Baji’s heart stutters. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you! Your daddy has told me so much about you.”
“He has?” Kaori asks, and Baji lifts a brow at her when she turns to him with a skeptical look on her face.
“I have,” Baji replies. “This is your teacher Kaori,” he holds his breath as his daughter eyes you. Kaori Baji isn’t shy. In fact she’s one of the most outspoken kids he’s ever met. It’s easy to know when she dislikes someone or something because she has no problem pointing it out. It’s whether she likes someone or not that’s the real issue.
“Do you like tea parties?” Kaori asks, and Baji knows this is the million dollar question. One wrong answer and today could easily turn into a shit show.
“Oh,” you gush. “I love tea parties! Do you wanna see my tea set?”
Baji blinks, eyes widening when Kaori releases his hand and takes a step toward you. She nods and then as though catching herself she responds. “Yes, please.”
“Fantastic! But you’ll have to say goodbye to daddy,” you say carefully. “Is that okay?”
Baji’s breath leaves him in a pained rush. His panic coming back full force. He purses his lips, eyes glued to Kaori as she considers your request.
She turns to Baji motioning for him to come closer. He squats. “You have to go,” she says, and Baji’s heart shrivels.
“I know princess,” his throat burns, as he pulls the backpack from his shoulder and helps Kaori into it. “Will you be okay without me?”
Kaori gives him a look like she’s offended and Baji might have laughed under different circumstances. She frowns, stepping into his arms when he spreads them for her. Her little arms wrap around his neck tightly. Baji’s eyes close briefly, his heart thundering as he squeezes her. When he opens them he finds your eyes on him.
Kaori steps out of his arms. “I’ll be okay,” she confirms.
Keisuke glances from her to you and then back to her. “Okay,” he presses a kiss to her forehead, and stands. You stand with him and Kaori takes your hand.
“First days are always the hardest,” you comment.
Baji can only smile weakly at you as you guide Kaori deeper into the school. His daughter turns and gives him a short dismissive wave before turning her full attention on you.
Baji stands there long enough that the parking lot starts to fill up.
She’ll be fine he tells himself when he finally forced himself to leave. She’s a big girl he repeats as he forced himself not to think about what could be happening to her now.
It’s only a couple of hours, she’ll be fine.
#baji x reader#keisuke baji x reader#keisuke baji x y/n#baji x you#baji x y/n#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo revengers x you#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo rev fluff#tokyo revenger fluff#tr: beyablade.
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Handcuffed and Blindfolded:
Captain Price x F Reader (18+) 🔥🔥🔥
Summary: You strip Captain Price naked and cuff him to your bed. But this isn't a game about power and dominance. It's a last chance for Price to prove that he can be vulnerable with the one person he loves more than anything in this world.
Price lay shirtless in the center of the large bed with his hands by his side. You had instructed him to keep his eyes closed and so far he’d complied. You were thankful for that. Your nerves had left you less than confident but this was something you needed to do. For you. For Price. For the future, you both had agreed on wanting together.
You walked over to your duffel bag and slid out of your pants and shirt, tucking them neatly away before pulling out a black long-sleeve tee. You turned back toward the bed and looked at Price. His eyes were still obediently closed, but a small smile played on his lips. You climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath you.
“Love is not weakness," you whispered, leaning down into his ear. "It's about trust. It's about surrendering yourself completely to another person. So I want you to do that with me now. Surrender yourself to me.”
Price’s breath hitched as you placed a soft kiss along his pulse point. “I am yours, my love,” he breathed out. “You have me.”
Price slid his large hands up your thighs and settled them on your waist and for a moment you considered tossing your entire plan to the wayside. How good would it feel to have him tear you apart? To let him have his way with you and fuck you senseless until all you saw were stars and all you could scream his name over and over and…
No.
No, you were determined to see this through. As much as you wanted that, you both needed something more. He needed to prove what he’d said. You took his hands and guided them above his head, entwining your fingers with his.
“The first rule is you will not speak unless I ask you a question. But you don’t get to tune me out either. I want you to feel every word I say as much as you feel my touch,” you said squeezing his hands, “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Price nodded, his breath coming out in shallow pants as you watched anticipation pulse through him.
“Good,” you whispered into the shell of his ear. “The second rule is you do only what I ask you to. You don’t get to touch me unless I say so. You don’t get to kiss me unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said nodding again.
You pushed yourself upright with one hand on Price's chest. He kept his hands above his head and you took a moment to admire him. He was always beautiful, with his pale skin dotted with dark brown freckles and his chest scattered with delicious short hair that you longed to run your fingers through. But there was something about him in this moment. Maybe it was the way the soft light filtered through the curtains from the snowstorm outside or maybe it was the fact that for once you finally knew how Price felt. You finally knew how he felt about yourself, about the future, about what scared him.
Fuck.
You’d never wanted him more.
You could feel your body growing hotter as you rocked forward and your slick further soaked into your cotton underwear. Price's hands twitched above his head, eager to touch you, but he held back and remained still.
“Lift your head off the pillow.”
Price complied and you slipped the black long-sleeve shirt behind his head and tied it in front of his eyes. With the blindfold secured, Price’s body tensed beneath you. You turned your neck to look behind you and found that he was already hard, leaking pre-cum through his light-colored pants. The power you felt at that moment was heady, but you knew this couldn’t be about control or lust. It had to be about trust. About vulnerability.
“Your zip-ties,” you said, leaning down and kissing a scar on his chest, “where are they?”
Price bit his lip.
"In my backpack, tucked near the bottom."
You swung your legs off of Price’s torso and crawled off the massive bed. You found his backpack leaning against the wall by the front door and rummaged through it until your fingers closed around cold plastic.
“Take off your clothes,” you commanded, standing back up and walking back toward Price. He quickly sat up and peeled off his pants and boxers, tossing them onto the floor, before lying back down again. You grabbed one of his wrists and carefully secured it to the bedframe with the plastic zip-tie, cautious as to not break his skin. You followed with the other before moving to the foot of the bed and securing both of his ankles to the frame.
You’d never done this before. Blindfolded a man and tied him up naked in your bed. You’d never dreamed of doing this…. but you couldn’t deny, it felt good. You silently stared at Price laying bare before you then his cock, thick and heavy, twitched against his stomach. No, this was better than good. It felt like a part of some secret ritual where you were drawing strength from the very act of binding him to your will. Now you just needed to begin your offering.
You trailed the back of your hand, allowing your nails to gently glide against his skin, up from his ankle to the inside of his knee. His breath faltered slightly as your lips followed suit, kissing delicately along the path your fingers had created.
You crawled onto the bed and continued upward touching and kissing him. Slowly you traveled up his thigh, nuzzling into his groin, and then finally, with a feather-light touch, resting your fingers at the base of his shaft. When you ran your nails gently over the head of his cock and kissed the underside of him he let out a deep strangled moan. Price tugged against the plastic ties that tethered him to the bed and you wondered if they would break and set him free.
“Easy,” you breathed, nuzzling into his thigh.
Price was struggling with this more than you expected. For a man whose life revolved around so much discipline, you’d thought he would be able to restrain himself better. You hadn’t even wrapped your lips around his cock yet.
“When was the last time you came?” you asked him fingers still lightly grazing the base of his shaft. Price cleared his throat, and you could feel his hesitation.
“Not…not since the safe house. Not since you,” he finally whispered. Your fingers stilled and your eyes widened at Price’s words.
“You haven’t touched yourself once since we last slept together?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Price swallowed hard, "I-I couldn't bear the thought of replacing you, of...needi-"
You wrapped your lips around Price’s cock and sucked down his length, quieting him immediately. He bucked his hips upward and you reveled in the feeling of him throbbing against the hollow of your cheeks, his precum warm and salty on your tongue.
You withdrew slowly until just the tip of his cock was in your mouth and swirled your tongue around his sensitive ridge, eliciting a low growl from him. Fuck you had missed the noises he made. They were so head-spinning, so intoxicating… they were everything.
"You couldn’t bear the thought of needing someone else, so you didn’t let yourself come," you said, pulling away from Price’s cock with a wet pop. “Well, I couldn’t either. I haven’t touched myself once.”
Price let out a guttural moan at your confession. This one was deeper than any you’d ever heard from him before and his entire body trembled with built-up and unspent desire.
“Do you want to say something, Price?” you teased taking him back into your mouth and bobbing your head slowly up and down. “Go ahead,” you said licking a vein along the underside of his cock, “tell me what you want to say.”
"Fuck," he muttered, the word escaping his lips involuntarily. "I've missed this. I've missed you,” he groaned. “Missed you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart."
You continued to pleasure Price, teasing him with your mouth, lips, and tongue, taking care to ensure you paid attention to every inch of his beautiful cock. It was only when you were certain he was on the brink of release that you pulled away, gasping for air. You took a moment then, with drool hanging from your chin and Price’s wet cock resting against your cheek, to catch your breath before sliding off the bed and slipping out of your underwear.
Silently you crawled back onto the bed and positioned yourself over Price. With a gentle touch, you guided the head of his cock towards your entrance and lowered yourself down onto him.
"I've missed you too," you groaned, leaning down to kiss him as you started to ride Price, slowly rocking your hips up and down in a steady rhythm. He felt so good, completely in your control, completely at your mercy. But even though you had set the rules you were starting to regret them because you desperately wanted to see Price’s eyes. The few times you had ridden him in the past he had looked up at you with such intensity and passion that it had left you breathless. You wanted that now. You wanted to feel holy and worshipped under his gaze. You wanted to feel the way only he could make you feel.
"Price, I need you to look at me," you pleaded, as you reached forward and lifted the blindfold off his face. He looked at you and you thought his blue eyes, blown out with dark pupils as big as the sun, were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.
“Tell me,” you said as you ground down on him. “Tell me what you're thinking right now.”
“I’m thinking I… I’ve never seen someone look so fuckin’ beautiful before in my life.”
“Fuck Price,” you whined, his words bringing you closer to the edge. “I don’t know how much longer I can… I can last.”
"Then don't," he growled, his voice hoarse and ragged. "Go ahead, cum for me."
You felt the heat building inside of you, the wave of your orgasm threatening to consume you whole. You leaned forward, reaching between your legs to touch yourself, feeling the wetness that coated your fingers. The ripples were building the pressure mounting.
"Fuck," you panted, gripping Price's hips with your free hand and thrusting yourself onto him with newfound urgency. “Please… please tell me you’re close. Wanna come with you, please,” you babbled.
"I'm so close, sweetheart," he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. "Fuck, I'm so fucking close."
You could feel it. The need to come was overpowering, and you knew it was only a matter of time before you both reached that blissful moment of release. All you both needed was another push. So you reached forward with one hand and squeezed Price’s throat, your fingers digging into the skin on his neck. Price moaned and it sent shockwaves rippling down through your fingertips. And that was all it took. You fell into the precipice and let go. The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before. It washed over you like a tidal wave, consuming everything in its path. Your muscles clenched and unclenched, your core throbbing and yearning for more of the man you loved.
“Atta girl,” Price groaned, his hips bucking upward to help meet each of your weakening thrusts. You added your second hand to Price’s throat and his eyes immediately rolled back, irisis flickering to white before returning to their beautiful blue.
“Fuckkkk,” he moaned spilling into you and twitching inside you. Time seemed to stand still as you both rode the crest of your waves together, your bodies writhing in a dance of pure ecstasy. You could feel your slick and his cum, combining into a warm mess between your thighs, as you let go and collapsed onto his chest. As time moved your breaths synched and your hearts began to beat in unison. You lay there for a moment savoring the aftershocks of your orgasm and everything that was John Price.
“Love?” he eventually asked, glancing down at you with a smile plastered on his lips.
“Yeah, baby?” you answered, tilting your chin up from your place on his chest to look up into his eyes.
“Are you gonna untie me?”
“Well, that depends,” you answered with a cheeky smile of your own.
“On what?”
“Well see there’s a third rule I didn’t tell you about.”
Price raised his brow. “Yeah, and what’s that.”
“The second I let you out I need you to fuck me into this mattress until I can’t think straight. Can you do that, baby?”
Price laughed and craned his neck forward to kiss you. “Love, I will fuck you all bloody night if you keep calling me baby,” he teased with a coy smile. “Now get me out of these, please.”
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This is an excerpt from my much larger work on AO3. If you would like to read the whole story this far here is the link. If you are just here for the *spicy bits* no worries! I have plenty more fun excerpts pinned on my page.
#call of duty#captain price#captain john price#john price#captain john price x reader#cod#captain price x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw2
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Skin Crawl
CW: Bugs, Bug horror, bullying
Hero scrubbed uselessly at the permanent marker, but even with the rubbing alcohol stinging their nose and their shoulders sore from vigor, an outline of obscenities stubbornly marred the top corner of the desk.
Hero sighed, leaning back on their heels. How did they even get roped into this? They’d only pointed out the spattering of language to their teacher so that they could punish those responsible. They hadn’t been volunteering to clean up the mess themselves. But the teacher had seemed so pleased with their willingness to help…how could they have refused?
They glanced to the back of the classroom where their dark haired classmate leaned way back in their seat, feet kicked up on their desk, book held open directly overhead.
“Are you…going to help?”
“Sure,” they waved without looking away from their page. “You can go if you want. I’ll do the rest.”
Hero straightened their aching back. “Will you?”
It came out a little snarkier than they’d intended, but Villain wasn’t exactly known for their work ethic. They were always coming to school late, staring off, or ignoring assignments. Unlike Hero, they hadn’t volunteered for classroom cleanup.
Villain cocked their head to the side, raising one dark brow. “How many times have you cleaned this classroom?”
“Well, just this once—“
“How many times have I cleaned this classroom?”
“How am I supposed to know? I don’t count all the times you mess around—“
“Oh yes, you do. You have that cute little book with all the tallies.”
Hero’s face burned.
But for some reason, Villain didn’t sound angry, just…making a point.
"Go on, open up to my page. Tell me how much experience I have staying after school."
Hero shouldered their backpack with a huff. "Ok, I get it. Just...make sure you drop the classroom key at the office when you're done. I don't want to lose the staff's trust because of you."
"Yes, master," Villain said and went back to their book.
Hero hesitated. Part of them still didn't trust their classmate to continue where they'd left off. Could this be a ruse to get them in trouble? Or maybe they just wanted Hero out of their hair and didn't care about the consequences.
Or maybe you need more faith in people.
Ugh. That was hard when everyone in this school had proven untrustworthy. Even the friends they'd made from the 'good crowd' hadn't lasted past the first month of the school year. None of them had what it took to stand up against immorality. They'd rather turn a blind eye and cut ties with anyone who might stir up the hornet's nest.
Whatever.
They grabbed their notebook off their desk and whisked out of the room. Now, what misdeeds had they borne witness to today? They flipped open to the middle of the boo; they might as well report these to the office before heading home.
11:45am--Caleb stuck gum on the inside of his desk sticking together the pages of the math textbook
11:50--Kayla texted in class for half an hour straight and did not complete any of her schoolwork.
12:30--An unknown underclassman with red hair shoved a smaller boy at lunch and took his place in line (please identify).
12:45--Taylor C. was making out with her boyfriend in front of the east stairs between classes, blocking off the way for anyone needing to use them. She also used some choice language against a well-meaning student who asked her to refrain until they left the grounds.
12:48--Victor verbally harassed an underclassman girl in the hallway despite her repeated refusals for acquaintanceship; he did not respond well to outside interven--
Hero's notebook hit the floor with a loud smack.
For a moment all they could do was stare at their empty hands in shock, then they lifted their gaze to the sneering, chiseled face in front of them.
"How many times did it make it into Book Golden Rule now?"
"Only once today, Victor," Hero said, bending for the book. Victor snatched it just before their fingers could brush the spine. At about the same moment, someone kicked them behind their right knee. Hard.
Hero gasped, collapsing onto the sneaker-smudged tile.
Victor flicked casually through the pages, stopping at his own tally sheet near the front. "Wow, my infraction rap is growing. You must be obsessed with me or something. Kinda gross but I guess you can't help it."
A chorus of laughter sounded over Hero's shoulder, and suddenly they were surrounded on all sides. They defiantly looked into the perpetrator's faces, memorizing identities: Caleb, Rick, Renna.
"Just give it back," Hero said dryly. "You're only making this worse on yourself."
Victor laughed now. "Really now? Your self-righteous ego is so big you still think you've got the upper hand here?"
"Not physically obviously, but anything you do to me, I'm just going to add it to my report."
Victor stared Hero dead in the eyes and slowly tore the notebook in half.
"I'm going to beat you so soundly, you won't even look at me without peeing yourself. You're going to look away from everything I do because all you'll remember is the pain of this moment.
"I'd never turn a blind eye for my own personal--"
The words scattered as Victor's fist met their mouth. Before they could recover he hit them again. And again. And again. A cleated food hit them from behind, sending a stab of electric agony up their spine. Dangerous. This wasn't just a scuffle. They wanted to seriously hurt them!
The next punch threw Hero on their back. They'd never been one for envy, but suddenly they wished they had one of those combat powers, super strength, invincible skin, knife fingers, anything actually useful for defeating evil!
Army boots smashed over their fingers.
Hero screamed.
"Shut them up!" Victor snarled.
Caleb's shaved head bent over them, and something knit and strongly scented of sweat was forced between their teeth and far enough in to make them gag. They spasmed but movement only made Caleb lean in harder. They couldn't breathe!
Where was the principal? Where were the teachers? Someone had to be hearing this? Someone here had to care?
The boots hit their ribs and tears gathered in their eyes.
"Aww, the wittle baby is cwying," Renna said. She balanced one foot on the center of Hero's chest and slowly leaned in her weight. "How does it feel when someone steps on you?"
Hero wanted to say that exposing someone for cheating wasn't crushing anything deserved, but there was too much sweater down their windpipe.
"Hey."
The group jolted and some of the wight lifted. Hero's vision was blurred, but between Victor and Rick's shoulders, they made out unkempt midnight hair and lanky limbs. Villain.
"If it isn't Psycho," Victor practically purred. "You want to get a few blows in too? Go nuts."
Hero's screaming insides twisted. They cared more about facts than rumors but they'd also never been this helpless in front of their dark classmate, as alone and outcast as they were but for totally different reasons. Villain supposedly had a penchant for macabre experimentation. Students said they had a devil in them. That they ate the raw innards of animals to feed it and placed curses on anyone who messed with them. There was even a rumor that they dissected a kid who made fun of them in class. Hero always found that one ridiculous, the student probably just moved away. But now, pinned and gagged and Villain getting closer they were having doubts.
Villain stopped directly in front of them. "Let the angel go."
Victor gaped for a moment. "Are you kidding? They write you up almost as much as me. You think all those after-school detentions come from thin air?"
Villain only slow blinked. "I'm giving you 5 seconds to get out of here before I do go psycho. Unlike angel, my problem-solving is more physical."
"Get out of here," Victor said waving Villlain away before back toward Hero, though the rest of his crew looked a little more nervous.
Villain shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Their mouth opened wide, cavernous. The inside might have actually been black for all Hero could see. Though something almost seemed...to move.
The first centipede dropped on Renna's boot.
"What the..." She kicked it off, lip curled in disgust. "Did you just throw--" As she turned back, she let out a splitting scream. Everyone whirled. Caleb lost his grip on the sweater gag, and Hero finally managed to roll to the side, coughing and spitting. When they raised their head again a mass of black centipedes scurried across the floor, swarming the group's shoes and wriggling up their legs. The great arthropods dropped in heavy droves from Villain's lips, some crawling down the sides of his face and neck in rapid desperation to get to the floor. Through it all Villain was still and unflinching though their eyes danced with dark amusement.
"You freak!" Victor shrieked slapping off bugs--all four perpetrators were already littered with angry bites. "You're possessed! You're--"
He cut off as a low buzz gathered in the back of Villain's throat, this time the bugs emerged as a cloud, a swarm of wasps, as black and large as the centipedes.
"Forget this!" Rick cried, taking off at top speed Renna and Caleb were close behind. Victor looked like he wanted to curse them out but all he managed was a rude hand gesture before taking off after his posse.
The centipedes followed in a dark wave, cutting a path on either side of Hero. Villain let them go, though a deep inhale sucked the wasp swarm, and a few stragglers on their shirt, back down.
Hero stared. Villain stared back. Hard black eyes evaluating. Hero's breath caught in their chest, which was probably for the best. It hurt to breathe right now.
“You know it’s being an insufferable goody two shoes that keeps getting you in trouble," Villain finally said.
Hero rose achily to their feet, brusquely wiping their face with a stifled sniffle. "Yeah, well...no one asked you." Tears threatened to spill full force over their lashes, so they began quickly gathering up the pages of their shredded notebook. "I'm going to have to add a tally for physical violence in school. I can't be biased."
Villain barked an incredulous laugh. "You're really something else, you know that?"
"And you have centipedes living in your stomach."
"Not sure if they actually live there, more like they materialize there when I want them."
"And how'd you figure that out?"
Villain smiled. "You mean you don't commonly dream of centipedes?"
Not really an answer but Hero snorted, catching themself with a wince on the wall as they did.
Slender fingers gripped their shoulders. "You should sit down."
Hero obeyed without argument. They probably looked completely pathetic right now. Tear stained, bruised, shaking. They'd always sworn it didn't matter how many people disliked them as long as they had their dignity. So much for that.
Hero ducked their head between their knees.
"Why'd you help me? Victor's right. I get you in trouble almost daily."
Villain slid down on the floor next to them. "Yeah. But being a massive pain in the butt doesn't mean you deserve to get beaten up. Besides, some of the things they do need to be exposed. And...it's impressive that you're not scared to do it."
Hero didn't fully know how to respond. That someone needed to care? That obviously when five students screaming at the top of their lungs didn't even crack a door there was a problem? Yes, they'd realized early on that putting things on paper was the best way to get results, but it wasn't like they were completely without ulterior motives either. Did choosing to confront the bad for self-serving motives make them any better than those who turned away? Villain had called them angel. But they were far from it.
"Is it a power?" Hero said, shoving away the thoughts and pointing at their mouth instead.
Villain nodded.
“Cool.” They couldn’t help the note of awe.
“Really?”
Hero looked them head on. “Yeah. I guess it’s unconventional, but you took on four people and won without moving an inch. That’s a real power.”
"You don't think it's disgusting?” For the first time Villain looked something close to vulnerable. Like Hero’s reply had thrown them off so much they’d forgotten their nonchalance. “It doesn’t make your skin crawl?"
"Not really." Hero looked up and down the vacant hallway. They wet their lips, took a deep breath, and shed their skin. They’d done it in the mirror enough times to know it was disturbing. It wasn’t the sort of shapeshifting that happened in glamorized movies. It was messy. Sometimes bloody if they went too fast. They looked at Villain with a mirror of their face. “That make your skin crawl?"
Villain grinned. "Not really."
A beat.
“So that’s how you get the dirt on so many people.”
Hero flushed and shed back into their own skin.“Most of the time yeah. They usually cover things up if they see me.”
Villain’s eyes roved them up down, hard and cutting and dark, like black diamonds. “Amazing.”
Hero shrugged, trying to pretend that gaze was not cutting them to the core. “It’s not a useful power. I connive against evil. I don’t beat it. After graduation I want to try for Allegiance Academy but…well you saw. What hero team would want someone who can’t even fight? Even with combat classes I’d never compare to the big powerhouses.”
Villain didn’t respond.
Great. Hero opened up to much. They’d gotten whiny with a practical stranger. They’d gotten Hero out is tight spot, not asked for their life’s dreams and woes
“Don’t hero teams need reconnaisance?” Villain said
Hero blinked. “I guess so.”
They’d never really thought about it before. That wasn’t the sort of role that showed up on the news. It wasn’t the thing that got peace prizes or admirers. But…maybe that was fine. They’d always craved power for the sake of being accepted into the academy and eventually chosen for a team, not for the sake of attention. Besides they were used to being alone; they were fine with it.
"Well, I better finish that cleaning," Villain said, pushing to their feet. "I wouldn't dare risk another infraction."
"Villain," Hero said before they got too far.
"Hm?"
"Thank you. For the help. You're...good."
Villain crooked a smile. "Never been called that before. Probably won't again. But I appreciate it."
With that, they were gone.
Perhaps Hero didn't need to be alone after all.
8 years later…
Hero straightened their silk tie in the rearview mirror, a silvery ribboned thing they normally wouldn't have gone for but couldn't say they disliked. Though maybe that was because it suited this face. Round, prim, pink-lipped, nothing like their own drab, haggard countenance. They swore each time they returned to their true skin it looked worse.
They quickly double-checked their current contours with the photo in their glove box. "So, this is our target's lover?"
"Remy Navarro," their earpiece crackled. "They've been together six months, and they are very involved in this villain's inside plans. We're thinking 24 hours tops before you come across something big."
Hero stepped out of the car and began weaving their way through the menagerie of fine-dressed gala members. "Ok, well you rushed me into this, anything else I should know before I find this criminal overlord?"
Their teammate hesitated at the other end of the line. "Just don't act surprised about the legs."
"Legs?" Hero said. "As in, they look weird?"
"As in. there are extras."
"Excuse me? I'm really beginning to think I didn't get a proper debrief."
"It was an unexpected opening. We had to take it. Anyways you're good at improvising."
Hero dodged around a cocktail tray. "I appreciate your faith in me, but I'm better at improvising when I've had a week to carefully study my subject's personality and mannerisms. I mean what is my personality? Are they an affectionate couple?"
Silence and then finally, "You'll be fine."
"Are you kidding me? Other Hero! Other Hero?"
They'd dropped the line, hadn't they? Hero sighed, stuffing the earpiece into their pocket. Sure, they'd do better without distractions, but this was verging on insanity. Other Hero had better gather more info on their new identity before tomorrow.
They stopped in front of an intricately carved set of double doors at the tops of the stairs. The private quarters of the newest villainous boss their team had begun tracking. The assignment was a rush job so all they had was a blueprint layout and the supposition that tonight's gala was prepared as a cover for something big.
They rapped quietly on the wood before immediately easing the door open. Lovers would be comfortable enough to do that, right?
A tall figure turned as they entered. Long midnight hair fell over dark-clad shoulders. Dark, hard eyes stared out of an even harder face. And yes, there were extra legs, though not the kind Hero had been expecting: they were black, rigid, clawed things sticking out from their sides, almost like those of an insect. Meanwhile, a pair of pitch-colored moth wings folded on their back, the tails gliding on the floor like drapery.
"Took you long enough," the villain said. A black centipede crawled down their cheek and settled like a parrot on the villain's shoulder.
Hero froze on the threshold, desperately trying to connect their dropped jaw back to their brain so they could snap it shut.
It had been years since they'd seen this dark figure; their jaw seemed even sharper, their lankiness had turned to elegant slenderness, and the bug parts were new, but Hero recognized them immediately.
Villain.
Master Taglist:
@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn
#hero x villain#hero x villain sidekick#heroes and villains#creative writing#heroes and villains community#writing snippet#writblr#villain#shapeshifter#writing community#fiction#childhood friends
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Flirting with Knives
pairing: carmy berzatto X female!reader
summary: a fluffy little vignette about cooking with your new boyfriend, except he tries to turn it into a cooking lesson
word count: 900
“I cannot keep watching this.”
You snort, biting back the smile that is tugging at your lips as you continue dicing the onion sitting on the cutting board in front of you.
“I wouldn’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about, Carmy. And besides,” you throw a glance over your shoulder. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t judge me.”
Your relationship with Carmy was new. As in text each other all night, gossip to your best friend about him, and generally spend every waking moment thinking about when you’d get to see him next kind of new. It was the intoxicating stage in the relationship where you pretty much wanted to have your hands on him at all times, but also still panicked about the state of your apartment whenever he stopped by. All in all, it made you feel like you were about sixteen years old again. But every time your eyes met his, you could feel yourself getting caught up in a flurry of butterflies and you wouldn’t change a thing.
Tonight, you were cooking for him for the first time. You’d pulled out a recipe for cherry balsamic glazed pork chops and thyme roasted potatoes that you had made enough times before to know that it was reliably delicious and easy enough for you to make without making a fool of yourself in front of Food and Wine’s Best New Chef.
That said, cutting onions can be a bitch and your knife was fucking dull.
“I’m not judging, I swear!” There was laughter in Carmy’s voice as he sidles up behind you, putting his hands on your hips. “Could I just maybe give you a few pointers?”
With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you set the knife down on the cutting board and step aside. “Yes, Chef.”
Carmy steps up to the kitchen counter, taking up the onion in one hand and the knife in the other. His voice is gentle as he explains to you how best to position your hand as you hold the onion and then pantomimes the cuts he is going to make. It isn’t until he presses the blade to the vegetable that he curses under his breath.
“Jesus Christ babe, when’d you last sharpen this thing?” The shock on his face is palpable as he looks at you with wide eyes and mouth hanging agape. It’s kind of hilarious.
“So…” You draw out the syllable as long as you can before you make your confession. “I might not have a knife sharpener.”
If you thought he looked outraged before, you’d be mistaken.
“You wound me, you know that?”
You tilt your head back and laugh.
“Absolutely fuckin’ ridiculous. I’m taking matters into my own hands.”
You reach for him, your fingertips barely grazing the waffled sleeve of his Henley shirt as he turns on his heel and crosses into your living room, where his backpack lays in a heap on the floor.
“Carmen, baby, what are you talking about?”
He unzips the bag and pulls out a neatly tied roll of fabric. “I’m talking about this.”
“Are those your knives?!” You exclaim. “Do you always take those everywhere with you? Or should I be afraid?”
“Well yeah, I take them with me over here because I usually end up going straight from your bed to the restaurant,” he reasons, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “And the only thing you should be scared of is losing a damn finger to those dull knives of yours.”
He lays the roll out flat on your kitchen counter and pulls out an incredibly sharp knife, setting it on the cutting board.
“Now, we’re going to finish making dinner and then tomorrow night I’m coming over and sharpening all of your knives.”
“Is that your idea of foreplay?”
He smirks then, that little dimple forming in his cheek, but very pointedly does not answer your question. You decide to take that as a yes.
You take Carmy’s knife up in one hand and the onion up in the other, arranging your fingers in almost the same way you had seen him do it. “So, like this?”
“Um, not quite.” He curls his hand up into a claw and demonstrates. “You want to curl your fingertips down under a little more.”
You mimic what you see. “Better?”
“No, um, let me…” He comes around to your other side and places his hand over yours, gently positioning your fingers into place. As he works on perfecting your technique, you look up at him, study the way his brow furrows in concentration. You rock back in your heels just enough to feel the press of his broad chest against your shoulder. A feeling like electricity courses through you, and you’re not entirely sure that you’re all that hungry anymore – not with your favorite chef on the menu.
“Y’know, Chef, you should probably just put your arms around me. I’m not sure I can cut these onions all by myself.”
He pauses what he's doing and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you gently into his body. His lips are pressed against the bare skin at the base of your neck and you feel a puff of warm air as he laughs lightly into your skin. When he speaks, his voice is low in your ear, giving you goosebumps. “Are you flirting with me, chef?”
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy x reader fluff#carmen berzatto x reader fluff#mine
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Can i ask for Hajime, Makoto, Nagito and K1-B0 x reader that’s the Ultimate Unlucky Student? If this isn’t too much ^^ take your time because four characters can be a lot sometimes
hajime, makoto, nagito and k1-b0 with an s/o who's the ultimate unlucky student
type : headcanon, gn!reader
note : i'm assuming this is supposed to be in a headcanon format (sorry if not,,), this is overall just cute stuff :} i got a lil carried away, hope you don't mind! i apologize for the wait, i've been getting into fnaf lately,,,, springtrap,,,
requested : yes! greetings simp :D
Hajime Hinata
hajime would be very confused at first, he'd ask if it's similar to nagito's ultimate and if it's a cycle of good and bad luck. when you told him it wasn't and shit was just constantly hitting the fan, he got a little worried.
it's usually small things like you falling face first on the ground because you forgot to tie your shoes, every animal known to man constantly attacking you or the coins falling out of your wallet whenever you tried to buy anything from a vending machine to be never seen again. yet sometimes, it would ruin dates the two of you wanted to have.
one time - when the two of you started dating - you decided to go to the beach to have a date. it was the middle summer and there weren't any clouds in the sky, yet the moment the two of you finished setting everything up it started raining. the worst part is as soon as both of you went home the sky cleared. hajime would be the type to awkwardly show up at your doorstep right after the failed date, soaking wet, asking if "you had room for two in your house".
overall, i don't think he'd take it too hard. even if some hangouts fail there's always room for more. he'd worry, of course, but not to the point where he'd restrict your movement and choices (only if you have the risk of getting ran over or something).
Makoto Naegi
he's definitely the type to be constantly worried. although he is the ultimate lucky student he can only hope that his ultimate is enough to balance yours out (which usually just ends up the two of you sharing lucky and unlucky experiences).
before going out he'd tie your shoes extra tight, make sure you have a jacket if it's cold out or an umbrella if it's raining - with a smaller, spare umbrella inside your backpack if the first one broke. bought by the man himself! he'd be the type to grab your hand before crossing the road but not let you cross unless everything was right. by this i mean, no cars in the street, shoes tied, hand held, nothing in the way.
at the start of your relationship makoto thought he was being a bit too much but when you almost got ran over as you crossed the seemingly empty road he decided he could never be too sure.
altogether, he's worrying a lot. not in an annoying way, more of a "you're my troublesome child and i'll never let you out of my sight" type of way.
Nagito Komaeda
oh no. the good luck? still there. not a lot though. the bad luck? double. the cycle is still there, it's just that now whenever something bad happens it's two times worse.
nagito would be very nonchalant over both your talents and not let it get in the way of your dates. for example, if it started raining heavily during a walk and he noticed it was starting to flood the streets he'd try to convince you to go buy floaties to float down the street together. hopefully his good luck comes around quickly! you don't feel like getting stuck somewhere or drowning.
if you did get hurt he'd degrade himself - even if why or how you got hurt had nothing to do with him - and pay for your hospital bills. i feel like nagito would be the type to pamper his partner a lot with little gifts and try to carry you up the stairs if you broke your leg(s). And fail miserably at doing so.
he'd get into shit with you to just go "haha, my bad. how could i let this happen?"
K1-B0
kiibo. my sweet baby. like hajime, he'd ask a lot of questions when first meeting you! throughout time he'd get used to it and do his best to help you out. your gloves got ripped up by unknown causes and it's snowing? he'll use his hairdryer function to "breathe" onto your hands to quickly warm them up and when the two of you get home he'll sew them back up.
if you get hurt he wouldn't be able to carry you or anything (he's not particularly the strongest and his back pain doesn't help) but he'd take care of you afterwards! be it cooking meals, or cleaning the house.
everytime you get home he'll stop you at the door while concentrating reallyyy hard to use his zooming function to see if you're alright. doesn't do much, but you let it slide if it helps calm his worry.
so even if he's not able to support you during your spikes of your bad luck, he'll gladly lend you a hand afterwards!
#xxosock.writes#kiibo x reader#kiibo x gn!reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#danganronpa x reader#danganronpav3 x reader#drv3 x reader#hajime hinata x reader#nagito komaeda x reader#makoto naegi x reader#dr2 goodbye despair#dr thh#drv3
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Come Home & We'll Talk | J.P.
part 2 of Behind The Venue; James comes home to ask you to stay with him — rockstar!james x fem!reader angst/fluff
warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of like sexual acts
words: 0.9k
a/n: sorry this took forever lol, y'all wanted a happy ending so here it is
You hadn’t looked at any social media since finding out about James and Lily, nor did you want to. Giving James a chance to tell you everything was better than surfing through a whole bunch of pity, lies, and other crap on the internet.
You sent James a text—another thing you hadn’t checked since—and told him the only way you were willing to talk about what happened would be if he came home in the middle of the boys’ tour.
You honestly hadn’t expected him to come back at all—let alone the next day—so when he showed up with a giant bouquet of pink roses, you reluctantly let him inside your shared flat.
“I’m sorry, my love. I came back so you could hear that.” He told you, putting the flowers down on your kitchen table.
“No, you came back because you got caught with Lily Evans and I told you I wouldn’t talk over the phone.”
He slumped his shoulders and took off his backpack. Was that all he brought back? He dropped it onto the floor by his feet, but looked hesitant to do anything else.
“But I promise you I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything.”
Ignoring the flowers, you sat down on your couch and James followed, but stayed on the other side in case you didn’t want him to touch you.
“How long has it been going on?” You asked sadly. Any preamble or excuses would just be bothersome, you just wanted to know the details.
“Not long. It was just after a show in Lisbon, I was really missing you and Lily said we should all go out to a bar to cheer me up. We got drunk and did some stuff, but we never had sex.”
He knew that didn’t make it much better, but he was going to drop every detail that could help his case.
“And how many times have you ‘done stuff’ since then?”
“Since Portugal, we haven’t done anything more than make out. It was only a few times, and I felt like shit every single time.” James admitted. “I should have told you—”
“Yeah, you should have.” You told him firmly. You would have felt strong if it weren’t for the shake in your voice with every word. “Instead, you let it get out to the whole world, and I had to find out through a bunch of your fans.”
“I know. I was wrong. I’m a coward, my love. I was going to, but I kept worrying that you would leave me. I need you in my life.”
“So much so that you went and messed around with her?”
“It was bloody stupid, I know. I already told her that anything we had is over, even if you don’t take me back. But, please, I’ll do anything for you to stay with me.”
As much as you hated to admit it, he seemed genuine. Like he really was sorry about what he did, like he really did need you. It wasn’t quite enough, but he was getting there.
“Was she the only one? This was the only time?”
James sensed that you were starting to accept his apology, but he wasn’t going to smile and celebrate yet. “Yes, I promise. This was the only time it’s ever happened and it’ll be the last too.”
“How do I know that, Jamie?”
“(y/n), I will let you cut my dick off if that’s what you need to believe I’ll never do it again.” He used his hands to act out the idea he had just described and it made you laugh through your persistent teary eyes. “I’ll let you keep my hands and feet tied any time I’m away from you?”
“Promise?”
“I promise. We aren’t doing any more shows with her band anymore, and I want you to come on the rest of the tour with us. The Marauders don’t need an opener, but I do need you.”
You already knew what you were going to say, but it was fun to tease him a bit after what he did. “And what if I don’t come with you? Then what would you do?”
“I won’t do anymore shows.” James said seriously. “I’ll stay here with you. I’ll make a million gestures to make it up to you—well, I’ll do that anyways, but I’ll just make a million gestures at home.”
You scooted towards James’ side of the couch and picked up his hand to fidget with it. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”
James needed to make sure he heard your mumbled words correctly and his ears weren’t just telling him what he wanted to hear. “You will? Really?”
“Yes.” You confirmed. “Mostly because your manager would be pissed and all your fans would be heartbroken if you missed all those shows.”
You reached up to kiss him softly, thanking him for the apology and explanation.
“And you’re not mad at me?” He asked as you kissed his cheek. “You forgive me?”
“I trust that you won’t do it again and I’m staying with you, but you have a lot to do to make up for everything.”
“I’ll do anything.” He leaned down to kiss you again. It was more passionate than when you kissed him; he knew he had a lot more to thank you for than you did to him.
He let off your lips and gestured to the kitchen with a nod of his head. “And you saw the flowers? You like them?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Yes, James, I saw the flowers. They’re very pretty.”
“Good, ‘cause there’s a bouquet coming from every tour stop for you.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter imagine#james potter angst#james potter fluff#rockstar!james#rockstar au#marauders era#rockstar!marauders#marauders fluff#marauders angst#ansgt with a happy ending
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I Wanna Be Yours || Part 1
Series Masterlist | Part 2
↝a/n: my first Robin Series. Set in season 4.
↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Wheeler!reader
↝ Warning: not proof read. Possible spoilers if you still haven't watched season 4, everything that happens in stranger things, slow burn, Vicky doesn't exist here, not because I don't like her, but because it's easier to write for Robin when she's not madly in love with another chick.
↝⎙ 6.24.23
Nancy jiggled her keys, annoyed with the mop headed boy. "Mike! Let's go." She turned, looking at you with an irked expression. "This kid." She opened the door, walking past you as you put your backpack on.
Mike rolled his eyes, hunching over the toaster, impatiently waiting for the pop tart to pop any second. "Jesus. How am I gonna survive a whole week without you guys?" You grinned as he walked past, handing you one of the warm pop tarts. "Besides you. You're cool." He whispered before practically jogging to the car, where Nancy sat with her head thrown back in annoyance. You bid your parents goodbye before following him to the car, deciding you didn't have time to argue over who was getting in the front.
"So, Cali, huh?" Nancy glanced at you from the rearview mirror, a small grin making its way onto her lips. You two have tormented him for weeks over him going all the way to California for spring break. You did it more than Nancy though, only because you loved his grossed-out reaction when you'd turn around, acting as if you were making out with someone, hinting at the two.
"Yeah." Mike grumbled, looking out the window from the passenger seat.
you nodded, not bringing it up for the rest of the car. Atleast, until you got to school.
"And then there's Heidi tomorrow night, but the problem with Heidi is that she's going out of state for college. So, it's like, do I really wanna start another relationship that has no point other than sex?" Steve continued to rant to deaf ears. "I mean, i don't know. Does that make sense to you?" He rubbed his forehead, glancing to his side, where Robin was putting on mascara, solemnly paying attention to the mirror and not to the man who was ranting for the whole car ride. "Robin, are you listening?"
"Uh, yes. I-I'm lis-"
"What did I just say?" Steve threw his hand up, shaking his head, unimpressed.
"Something about sex with...Linda."
"No! I'm talking about Heidi."
"Cut me some slack, please!"
Steve bit his cheek before rubbing his forehead again. "Well-"
Robin began to rant, "Your love life is one of labyrinthine complexity. And it is 7:00 in the morning, we have this stupid pep rally and i woke up looking like a total corpse." She stretched her hands on the sides of her face, surely not looking flattering at all.
"Oh, you're worried about a pep rally? You expect me to believe that?" He glanced over again, his expression showing he absolutely did not believe that, not one bit.
"Yeah? So?"
"So, we both know what this is about. Okay, I'm not buying that bullshit. This is about Y/n." He had met you a few ties, when he was with Nancy and when you guys had to fight some ugly parasite looking monster. You were quick to catch Robin's eye in school, which, in turn, made her turn to Steve and tell him all about this girl. There were a few characteristics that lead him to know she fancied you before she even told him your name.
"Absolutely not." Robin couldn't help the blush that painted her cheeks, moving to do anything with her hands. She began applying lip balm, staring back into the little mirror in the vizor.
"Yes it is. You know what else I think?"
"I really don't care-" Steve could go on and on. If you were to ask Robin what he said, she's surely say blah blah blah with a roll of her eyes.
"I think you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you're around her. You just gotta be yourself." He had his hand out, motioning around absentmindedly.
"You're literally quoting me to me. You do realize that, right?"
"WELL maybe you need to listen to yourself. Ever think about that, smarty-pants?" Robin stared at him with a look that could kill. Was she this annoying when she scolded him, telling to get his shit together? "I listened to you and look at me. Boom. Back in buisness.
"It's not the same thing, okay?"
"Well..."
Robin made a sound of disagreement at that, not letting him finish that thought. "You ask a girl out and she says no, big deal. nothing happens. Maybe your ego is a little bruised." Robin looked at him with false pity, before moving her hands around again. "But I ask out the wrong girl, and BAM! I'm a town pariah."
Shaking his head, Steve understood where she was coming from, but disagreeing with how she was going about it. "Yeah, okay, I'd buy that, except Y/n is defiantly not the wrong girl."
"We just don't know that do we?"
"She returned Fast Times at 53 minutes, 5 seconds. Do you know who paused Fast times at 53 minutes, 5 seconds?'
"..."
"People who like boobies, Robin!"
"Ew! Gross! Don't say boobies!"
"Boobies. it's not a big deal, okay. I like boobies. You like boobies. Y/n likes boobies. Definitely."
Clinbing over the seat after Nancy parked, you patted Mike as he held the car door open. "Use protection atleast." Before he could reply or grumble, you were jogging towards the gym, finding some of your friends in the process.
"Got any plans for spring break?" Chrissy asked, trying to keep in stride with you.
"Not really." You hadn't made plans, but you'd probably end up staying at one of your friend's house. After walking in, you turned towards her, grinning to ease her nerves. "Have fun. You'll do amazing." She smiled back, giving you a quick hug before running off.
Turning back to the bleachers, you tried to look for an empty seat, which was becoming harder with the people trampling into the double doors.
Hearing your name being yelled, you looked around, stopping when you see Steve. He motioned you over, making sure no one sat down beside him.
With the glare he could feel on the side of his head, he'd definitely be getting an earful from Robin.
He held his hand out, helping you step up the stairs with all the people walking around you to take a seat. "Thank you."
"No problem." He turned to face Robin, mouthing '53 minutes, 5 seconds'. She rolled her eyes before looking forward.
When everything started, he cheered with you as you not only cheered on your school, but your friends and all the work they put into the moves.
"And of course, I have to give a special shout-out." Steve glanced over at you when he heard you scoff at Jason Carver.
"What? You not like Jason?" His words were playful, already knowing you despised him for some reason, hearing it from Robin.
"I dunno. He loves Chrissy and shows it, but he's just a dick to everyone else."
Jason continued to speak, "Chrissy..." He stared at her as they were they only two in the room. "Chrissy, i love you, babe."
You made a gagging sound, only loud enough for Steve to hear it.
Jason went on to make another speech. "You know...I think I can speak for all of us when I say it's been a tough year for Hawkins. So much loss. And sometimes I wonder 'how much loss can one community take?' In dark days like this, we need something to believe in. So, last night, when we were down by ten points at half to Chrisian Academy I looked at my team and I said, think of Jack, think of Melissa, think of Heather, think of Billy. "
Both, you and Steve looked down, searching for the red head you had seen climbing up the bleachers to sit with your brother and Dustin. You both looked back at each other, taking pity in the poor girl.
Sure, you never got along with Billy. But you would've never wished that kind of death upon anybody, including him. Especially with the way if effected Max. You could tell she felt guilty. It wasn't fair for her; she was just a kid- a good kid at that.
"-Think of our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper. "
"Yeah, people died so they could win a basketball game. That's the reason." You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you glared at the man screaming into the mic. "For a stupid trophy." Sure, you will still congratulate Lukas if they do, indeed, win the trophy. But to say many people died for that was just ridiculous. Honoring the people who have fallen is different, but that's not what he's doing. Maybe Lukas would play in honor of them, but not Jason.
"You alright?" Chrissy almost walked past you in the hall, looking a little uneasy.
She blinked a couple of times before trying to smile. "Yeah- yeah. of course. Just had to go to the counselor. I'm alright." You slowly nodded, before wrapping an arm around one of hers and walking towards class. She had been acting weird lately. So you made sure to stay close to her, making sure she didn't do anything. "Would you like to do something for spring break?" You brought back the question she asked earlier.
"Like what?"
"I dunno. We could hang at your house-"
"No!" You looked at her, confused by her outburst. "Why would we do that when we have your house?"
"I mean, Mike's not going to be there so sure." You gently smiled at her, squeezing her arm effectiontly when she stopped by the bathrooms. "I'll talk to you about it later, yeah?" She nodded before pushing the door open.
You began walking towards class, trying to wrap your brain around what is going on with her. She obviously wasn't okay.
•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]
#stranger things fanfic#stranger things angst#stranger things x reader#stranger things x wheeler!reader#robin buckley fluff#robin buckley x reader#robin Buckley series#stranger things series#robin buckley angst#robin buckley x fem!reader#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley x y/n#robin Buckley x wheeler!reader#robin buckley#robin buckley fanfic#i wanna be yours#📼#xoxo-sarah 🩷
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I've got an Eddie x cheerleader idea! Kinda fluffy where even though he doesn't give a shit about sports, he starts going to get just to watch his girl. He's so proud when she sticks landings or stunts that she's been struggling with. He's so full of admiration for her. And he *always* has water and snacks for her because she never actually brings enough to get through the games.
YES! AND ITS FLUFF THANK THE LORD
I hope this is what you were looking for. It's a little short :)
If you asked Eddie Munson to go to any type of school game about six months ago- he'd laugh in your face and tell you to shut the fuck up.
But then he met her. The co-captain of the cheerleading squad, next to Chrissy. She was gorgeous, bubbly, smart, and sweet. Eddie met her on the first day of his second senior year. He saw her struggling to open her locker so he offered a hand. Once he saw the standard ponytail and cheerleading outfit, he expected to be told to fuck off. But to his surprise a huge smile appeared on her face.
"If it's not too much trouble, that'd be great."
Her voice was even soft. She talked so delicately.
After he helped her, he figured that is the last he'd talk to her again.
But once again she surprised him. Waving at him excitedly in the halls. Always saying hello when she found him at his locker. Even went as far to sit next to him in a class they shared together.
Eddie didn't like the preps or the jocks. He tended to ignore them the best he could. But this girl was making her way into his life and he wasn't mad about it.
And that is how Eddie Munson found himself front and center on the bleachers for every possible sport event the shitty school put on. He sat on the side where the cheerleaders grouped together, along with the rest of the perverts. He had a real reason to be there- his girlfriend was there.
He cheers the absolute loudest when the girls perform. Many people's eyes looking over to the freak as he stands on his feet clapping loudly.
He smiles even bigger when she looks over and sends him a wink with a smile.
"you two are so gross." Dustin whined, covering his eyes every time Eddie cupped his mouth to scream even louder.
"oh shut up Henderson. If you ever get a girlfriend as hot as that plus in a small skirt, you wouldn't be complaining."
"I do have a girlfriend."
Eddie rolled his eyes, "sure you do."
Dustin huffed and crossed his arms.
Dustin brightened up when Y/N raced over to their seat, sweating and out of breath.
"hello my boys." She said, kissing Eddie quick on the lips and shaking Dustin's head with her hand.
"not the hair." He whined, smacking her hands.
"alright gorgeous, what did you forget this time?" Eddie teased, already opening his backpack filled with every possible snack, drink, and hair ties available.
"water." She smiled shyly, she was known to be the only girl on the squad who didn't show up with water or snacks. Her brain completely forgetting the importance of staying hydrated when she's putting together the routines.
Eddie laughed and pulled out a lunch box, a real one that she made him buy. Something for food, not drugs.
He grabbed out the cold water and handed it over, but before she could grab it he snatched it back.
"now wait. How do you suppose you are paying for this?" He smirked. Dustin gagging next to him
Y/N rolled her eyes and kissed her boyfriend again, he hummed against her lips and tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled away with a laugh.
"we can't make out. I'm still in the middle of a game." She scolded him as she snatched the water. Running back to the court as Chrissy called her over.
"I can't believe you snatched a cheerleader." Mike said, sitting behind them.
"shit Mike, me either but all I have to do is not fuck it up." Eddie sighed.
He watched the rest of her routine with the softest adoration look in his eyes. Still not believing a girl like that chose him.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975@ago-godance
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson request#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x cheerleader!reader
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Bonded Pair. - OCxGhost Backstory.
|| [Part Two ->] ||
pairing: COD OC!Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x Simon "Ghost" Riley
bonus: Moot!OC (Meabh "Pirate" O'Malley) x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
words: 2K~
cw: injury (nothing major or too explicit)
May 2020
“How long until the American comes?” Soap asks to Ghost’s right as the lieutenant is halfway through assembling their camp/nest for the foreseeable future.
“Laswell said he’d come before sundown.” Ghost muttered.
“What do you think he’s going to be like?” Soap asked.
“I think you should start heading to your spot and setting up camp, instead of yapping. It’s gonna get dark soon. You don’t want to spend the night lying on a pile of sticks, do you?”
“Jeez, L.T., calm down.” The Scot quipped with a chuckle. “I have plenty of time!”
“You really don’t. Sun’s setting soon.” A voice called out from behind them, causing them both to turn sharply, already pawing at their guns. The southern american accent was the only reason they didn’t draw them or shoot at the source.
Whiskey stepped out from behind the treeline, setting her hands on her hips after slinging her rifle onto her shoulder. She was on the tall side for a woman, standing at 5ft8, and had broad shoulders and strong arms. Her dark brown hair was tied back into the usual military-standard low bun, though a few loose strands of damp hair were glued to her forehead, and the lower half of her face was concealed by an Army green neck gaiter that was pulled up to her nose.
Ghost wasn’t particularly keen on working with her. But at least she looked more capable than some of what he’d seen come from the US.
She wore the standard combat uniform he had grown used to seeing on the Americans: camouflage cargos trousers, jacket, and Kevlar with the American flag. To keep her warm from the unforgivingly rainy and cold weather, she wore a brown fleece jacket under her camo, which was zipped up all the way, covering her neck and the bottom of her gaiter. She had on tan fingerless gloves, tan combat boots, and a camo backpack over her shoulders, from which hung her helmet.
“You’re the Navy SEAL?” Ghost asked in greeting as he approached her.
“That’d be me.” Whiskey replied evenly as she reached forward to shake hands with Ghost.
“I’m Ghost, this is Soap.” He explained as they shook hands, eyes locked into a strong, unyielding eye contact.
“Whiskey.” She replied as she let go of his hand and turned to shake Soap’s. Only for her eyebrows to knit together and then set dangerously low, darkening her hazel-brown eyes. “You.” She said as she pulled her hand back before he could shake it.
“Me?” Soap asked, his own eyebrows rising up to his hairline.
“You’re screwing my best friend!” Whiskey said bluntly as she pointed at him.
“Am no! I have a girlfriend!” Soap said while shaking his head, entirely convinced of
“Yeah, my best friend!” Whiskey replied with a nod.
“No? My girlfriend’s name is Meabh and her best friend is Victoria.”
“Right. Victoria, who’s American and part of the SEALs?”
“Oh shit!” Soap said in surprise as he looked at her. “You’re her?”
“Yeah I am. And you’re the piece of crap that-” Whiskey stopped herself, biting her tongue and pointing a finger at him.
“Woah, you’re nothing like Meabh said you would be.” Soap said with a dropped jaw. “What’s with the aggression? I dinnae do nothing to ye-”
“You did enough.” Whiskey hissed at him through gritted teeth, her hand shaking as she wagged her finger in his face. She seemed so pissed off at Soap, Ghost couldn’t help but wonder what the sergeant did.
Ghost was watching the whole scene go down, the entire situation sending some alarm bells ringing in his head, not because of the animosity… But because Whiskey was loud and feisty. And he already had Soap to deal with, and now there was another one?
He didn’t even want to imagine what comms would look like between them, how they’d talk his ear off.
Whiskey turned away with a huff, shaking her head. “I’m gonna go set up shop. I suggest you do the same.” She told the lads.
“Wait!” Soap said as he stepped forward toward her. “What’d I do? Why do you hate me so much?”
Whiskey looked back over her shoulder, eyes locking onto Soap’s. Then, she looked up at Ghost and, for a moment, Simon swore he was seeing right into her soul and her right into his. Whatever reason she was pissed at Soap, it was bad, and he could tell.
“Just get to work and don’t piss me off. Gonna have to deal with you for three weeks…” Whiskey grumbled about Soap as she turned and walked off, heading downrange to her own overwatch coordinates.
Soap exchanged a glance with Ghost as she walked off, before softly murmuring. “What was that about?”
Ghost shook his head. “Fuck if I know. Just do as she said and get to your campsite.”
“Yeah…” Soap trailed off and waved a goodbye at Ghost before he headed out to his camp, following after Whiskey’s trail.
-
Night 1: 2000 hours
“I was thinking we take turns sleeping. 24 hours in a day, we could trade and do 4 hour straight of sleep.” Ghost suggested over the radio as he snacked on a protein bar.
“Copy that, L.T.” Soap replied, his voice chewed up, a clear sign that he was also eating.
“Sounds good to me.” Whiskey replied from her camp, her voice clipped and curt, even through the radio. “You can take first shift, Ghost.”
“I’d rather take last.” Ghost replied.
“Alright. Soap. Take first shift.” She demanded.
“Nae? I wanna stay up and speak to you about something.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Victoria, c’mon, I don’t even know what I did.”
“It’s ‘Whiskey’, Soap. I still outrank you and we’re still at work. Haven’t given you permission to call me by my name.” Her voice was so blunt and strong, Ghost found himself almost impressed.
“I’m sorry.” Soap ended up saying with a sigh.
“Save your sorries. Go to sleep.” She demanded.
“Aye, ma’am.”
It took a good half an hour or so, but soon, Johnny’s PTT was turned off, so, Ghost spoke up.
“Switch to 3, Whiskey.”
“Copy that.”
After switching frequencies, he finally spoke. “What’d he do?”
“Something he shouldn’t.”
“Cheated on your friend?”
“No. He’s stupidly devoted to her. At least from what she says.”
“Sounds about right. He talks about her a lot. Tires me.”
“Bet it does.”
“Then what?”
“Can’t talk about it.”
“Hm…” Ghost murmured. “Okay.”
-
Ghost was supposed to be sleeping. He really was. But with a new team member alongside them, he knew he wouldn’t be able to.
Besides, he wouldn’t risk missing the shitshow of the other two bickering.
“So, how long have you and Meabh known each other?”
“Longer than she’s known you.”
-
“How’d you meet?”
“On a ship.”
“Her ship?”
“No.”
-
“So how is it, being a Navy SEAL?”
“Fine.”
-
“So, how old are you?”
“Old enough.”
-
“Where are you from?”
“America.”
“Yeah, but which state? You’re obviously from the south.”
“None of your business.”
-
“You and Meabh ever work together?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Classified.”
-
At one point, Ghost couldn’t help but start to smirk at the way the conversation was going. All throughout Days 1, 2 and 3 of their watch mission, she answered Johnny’s incessant questions with nothing but nonchalant dryness.
He could almost guess what answer she’d give and what tone she’d use whenever Johnny asked another question.
While she had been sleeping, the Scot had confessed he had wracked his brain thinking of reasons why she didn’t like him and had come up short… And that he wanted to make friends with her, for his bird’s sake.
But he wasn't succeeding. She was cold and stubborn and curt with her answers, not giving him more than a few words at a time.
Even as the questions got more probe-y and personal… She gave him nothing. In a way, Ghost saw himself in her answers.
“What do you and Meabh usually do when you’re together?”
“Hang out.”
“Yeah, but what do you do? Go out for drinks? Go on holiday?”
“We hang out.”
-
“So what does Meabh tell you about me?”
“The usual.”
“Elaborate?”
“No.”
-
“How come Meabh has never shown me a picture of you?”
“I don't do pictures.”
-
“Why the mask?”
“To hide my face.”
-
It’s as the sun sets on Day 4 that she finally gets tired of playing nice:
“You know, Meabh described you as really cheerful and funny… But I don't see it.”
“Meabh sees the best in people. Don’t take it personal. She lies about you a lot too.”
“I’m not that bad, you know? I don’t know what your problem is with me but… I’m just trying to befriend ye.” Ghost can pick up on Soap’s annoyance in his tone of voice.
“I wish you wouldn’t.” Whiskey replied.
There’s a long, long moment of silence before Johnny tries again.
“How often do you and Meabh talk?”
“Often enough.”
“I miss her a lot when I’m on missions… Can’t talk to her steadily…” Soap admits, this time a lot more sincere. “Do you miss her too?
“No.” She replies.
“No? Do you not like her the same as she does you?’
“I do.” Whiskey tells him. “But I’ve got ways of communicating with her.” She announces.
“How’s that? Sending a letter and waiting weeks for a reply? I’m not satisfied with just that. Need to hear her voice… and she doesn’t have signal out there in the ocean…”
There’s a sound from the radio, which Ghost can swear is a snort from Whiskey laughing. Then, she speaks again.
“Can you see my camp from where you are?”
“Yeah?”
“Alright well, take a look at this.”
Out of curiosity, Ghost decides to turn his binoculars toward Whiskey’s nest too, and adjust the focus until she comes into view.
“It’s a real shame that you can’t talk with your girlfriend.” Whiskey said while waving a black radiotelephone in the air for them to see. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
Ghost smirks at the sound of her sarcasm, shaking his head, already anticipating the dramatics that Soap would engage in.
“Wait, you’ve got a phone to talk to Meabh WITH?!” Soap’s voice is so loud and high-pitched one would think he just suffered the greatest betrayal.
“Oh yeah, I’ve been speaking pretty consistently with her the past 4 days.”
“No?!”
“Oh yes.”
“That’s it! I’m going down there, I want to talk to Meabh!”
“No you’re not, don’t you desert your post!”
“I’m not deserting! I’m going to you!”
Ghost has to turn off his PTT so he can laugh without them noticing. Soap had been talking about Meabh for forever, talking the ear off anyone who’d listen, raving about the girl and how much he loves her. At this point Simon feels he himself is dating her with how much he knows about her…
And now, here was her best friend, showing him just how much higher she ‘ranks’ in the girl’s consideration.
Turning his binoculars toward Soap’s nest, he watched the younger sergeant slip out and, under the shadows of the rapidly approaching night, rush out behind the treeline, dashing toward Whiskey’s nest about 2 kilometers out.
“He’s really going over.” Ghost murmured into the PTT.
“I know he is. Meabh is laughing over it.”
“YOU’RE TALKING WITH HER RIGHT NOW?!” Soap shrieked into his own PTT. “Tell her to hold on!!! I want to hear her voice!!!!”
Ridiculous, Ghost thought as he heard Soap’s desperation. How ridiculous it was to be so obsessed with a woman. Girlfriend or not.
By the time he reached Whiskey’s station, after a few minutes, Ghost got to watch a flurry of limbs happening.
And, after a moment, Whiskey came back onto the PTT. “Ghost contact Laswell, Soap needs to be sent on medical.”
“What happened?”
“He tried to get the radiophone off me, so I broke a couple of his fingers… And his wrist. And kicked him in the balls.”
Ghost pressed his lips together to stifle a smile. He shouldn’t be as amused as he is… But God, is the situation hilarious.
“Rog.”
#ikea writes 💚#cod oc#cod fanfic#oc: victoria “whiskey” callahan#ghost x whiskey#oc backstory#moots oc#moots oc ship#simon ghost riley#simon riley x oc#ghost x oc
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[jaceluke]
warning: smut
Say Yes To Heaven Pt-1
[part 2 will be on Wattpad]
wattpad: @sxarletdevil
book: jaceluke
Luke stood outside the school building waiting for the bell to ring. he often got stares from parents which didn't bother him much anymore. the bell ring and the students were released. it took a couple minutes but his daughter, Rhaella came running down screaming, "MUÑA! MUÑA! MUÑA!"
"Oh!" he yelped as his five year old daughter crashed her little arms around him. he knelt down picked her up into a hug, "hi, baby! how's my little dragon?"
"muña! I made a friend! her name is Daenys!" Rhaella beamed in happiness.
Luke tightened his hold on his daughter as they passed by parents and their children. "that's good baby! how was school?"
"it was good," she replied and looked around, "where's dad?"
Lucerys tried to ignore the stab of pain his chest at her words, "he's busy, baby. at work."
Rhaella wrapped her arms around Luke's neck and hugged him tightly. Luke took the hug from her and softly smiled. "wanna get ice cream and go to the park?"
"yes, please," Rhaella answered.
he put her down on the ground and held her hand. the sun was shinning in New York and their was a brisk of cold air. Rhaella wore jeans, with a princess T-shirt and a red cardigan over her. her long silver hair was in extravagant braids (that Luke has to do every morning). Luke was in his black business suit with red bottom heels clicking on the concrete. Lucerys hadn't changed much from his teenage years. he was still short but the heels gave him the boost. his hair was consistently cut because he didn't want to follow his families old valyria traditions. only difference from before was he now had a figure after 12 hours of a difficult birth. Rhaella luckily was born healthy. hips and thighs that were constricted in the business pants, breast that shamefully still produced milk even now, a soft and pudgey stomach.
"alright baby, you wanna go buy ice cream by yourself or do you want me to go with you?" Lucerys asked her.
"I can do it," she beamed up at him. she took off her pink backpack and gave it to him. they switched as he handed her his debt card. the ice cream shop was right across the park so Luke was able to keep an eye on her.
"Lucerys?"
he turned around seeing his older brother, Jacaerys. "hey, Jace," he smiled at him.
they both quickly hug, "how long has it been?"
"uh, like five, six years," Luke answered. it looked like Jace had been on a run, due to the joggers, T-shirt that clung to every muscle he had to showoff, and running shoes.
"yeah, yeah." he replied as he looked down at his feet, "hows Aemond?"
not this. come on.
"he's good. he's good. baela?" he asked back eyeing him up and down before settling to focus on his violet eyes.
he scoffed at the question, "she... I'll be honest she probably has a dick down her throat right now."
"dear Lord," Luke blurted out and tried to stifle the laughter threatening to escape.
"you can laugh. I'm the one who was too blind to see it," Jace told him.
"no, no, it's not funny. just the way you said it...I wasn't expecting that and especially not from your loyal wife Baela," Lucerys replied.
"yeah well how many times can you find boxers that aren't yours and letting your wife gaslight till it finally hits?" he said.
"muña, I didn't know which one you wanted so I got cookie and cream," Rhaella announced as she handed him a cup of ice cream.
"oh, thank you baby. Jace this is your niece Rhaella. Rhaella this is your uncle Jace," Luke introduced the pair.
jacaerys smiled fondly at the young girl and Rhaella blushed furiously. "do you want ice cream?" she asked him.
"no, Rhaella thank you." Jace smiled at her.
while Jace was focused on Rhaella, Luke took his time admiring every little feature of his brother. his curls tied into a bun, broad shoulders, light stubble on his face, and thick lashes. "muña, your staring," Rhaella giggled.
Lucerys cheeks flushed red as he quickly looked away, "baby go on to the slide."
Rhaella laughed as she ran off with her ice cream in hand and went to the swings. "she's precious. Aemond is a lucky man." Jace commented as they trailed behind Rhaella to a picnic table.
another stab.
"a beautiful daughter. a beautiful wife." he softly spoke. Lucerys could feel his cheeks burn with the comments and tried to ignore the intense stare his brother was giving him. "he really kept his word."
"Jace don't," Lucerys softly spoke as they got to the picnic table. his blue eyes looked at his brothers and their was no hiding the desire in both of them. even years later it was just as intoxicating as it was when they were teens.
"sorry," he said but he didn't mean. they sat in silence as they watched Rhaella swing slowly and eat her ice cream. twenty minutes had passed when she ran towards them, "uncle Jace can you push me on the swing?"
"may I?" he asked quietly to Luke.
Lucerys smiled and gave him a small nod. Rhaella wrapped her hand into jace's. it was crazy how much his hand made her look so tiny. Luke crossed one leg over the other as he watched Jace push Rhaella on the swing. the ice cream was long forgotten as Luke watched his brother. from the swing, to the jungle gym, to the slides, Jace didn't leave rhaella's side. the sun was beginning to set when Luke called it for the night.
"mommy, can Jace walk us home?" Rhaella asked.
"sweetie, Jace probably has things to do. we've already taken much of his time," Lucerys told her. her violet eyes welded with tears.
"actually, my schedule is cleared for the day. I don't mind either," Jace interjected.
I'm trying not to make a mistake Jace.
"okay, well, let's go," Luke said.
"piggy!" Rhaella screamed. Jace knelt down allowing the five years old to climb up on his back. the walk wasn't far but the definitely took their time to get there. when they did Rhaella was sound asleep and was clutching onto Jace for dear life. Luke unlocked his front door and put her backpack down before tearing her off jaces body.
"thanks Jace. for today." Lucerys thanked him.
"no problem. just don't keep Rhaella from me for too long. she's nice company," Jace replied with a softly smile as he stroked her blonde hair. Luke could feel his heart hammer against his chest at the words. desire burning in his belly as he felt Jace's hands brush over his.
"good night."
"good night, Luke."
it didn't take long to get Rhaella into bed and slowly undo her braids. he would have to wake up a bit earlier to bathe her before school.
"mommy," she softly groaned and grabbed his hand.
Lucerys softly spoke, "yes, my little dragon?"
"there's... there's a daddy-daughter dance this weekend. do you think Daddy can come?" she asked him with sleepy eyes.
"I'll ask him sweetling," he replied pressing a kiss to her temple. she smiled before closing her eyes and falling asleep. he took of her shoes and put them to the side. placing her large blanket on her and turning off the lamp, Luke descended downstairs. he sat down on the couch and pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Aemond's number.
"what Luke?" he answered aggressively.
"watch your tone." he snapped at his uncle-husband.
"what Luke?" Aemond asked again.
"there's a daddy-daughter dance this weekend. are you going to take Rhaella?" lucerys asked his dear husband.
"I can't. I'll be busy." he answered.
"you're a really shit fucking dad," lucerys spat on the phone.
"whatever Luke. I'm busy." the dial tone went through and lucerys nearly threw his phone at the wall.
fucking cunt.
he stood up from the table not wanting to eat dinner and just climb into bed. the next morning, he woke up early before his alarm. he decided to go ahead and get Rhaella ready for school. after her bath Rhaella sat on bathroom counter while lucerys pulled out hair ties, bows, hairbrushes, and other hair products.
"alright sweetling, what are we doing with your hair?" he asked.
"umm, can we do pigtails?" she asked, her violet eyes showed still much drowsiness.
"two pigtails coming up," lucerys replied.
"mommy, is daddy taking me to the dance?" she asked as Luke finished the left pigtail.
"oh, baby, I asked him and he's too busy," he told her. Rhaella looked away from the mirror to her small fingers, a pained and sad expression etched on her face. then her face lit up and gasped, "can uncle Jace take me! can you ask him? please! please, please, please, please, please mommy! ask Jace!"
lucerys softly laughed, "okay, okay. I'll ask Jace today."
Rhaella beamed in happiness as lucerys finished her other pigtail. "let's go eat," lucerys placed her down on the floor. after breakfast they drove down to the school.
"have a good day baby," Luke told her.
"bye muña! love you!" she screamed as she ran down to the school building.
"I love you!" lucerys yelled after.
lucerys arrived to Driftmark Enterprises and headed inside to his office. the blue suit and black YSL heels made him stand more than it should. Luke came from money but after his indecision years ago his mother cut him off. his grandfather, Corlys on the other hand loved him too much to just push him out of the family business. he would be the next CEO right after his father Laenor.
"claire, can you call Targaryen Industries and ask Jacaerys Targaryen to make a visit here?" lucerys told his assistant.
"right away, sir," she answered picking up her phone.
today would be a bit of a slower day but busy none the less. a soft knock and assistant poked her head in, "Jacaerys Targaryen is here to see you."
"let him in," he answered.
the door opened wider and a perfectly attired Jacaerys entered the office. the black suit and tie was much a harsher difference then the jogger and T-shirt from yesterday.
"everything alright?" Jace asked as he sat down in the leather seat in front of Luke's white desk.
"I have a favor to ask," lucerys spoke as he put up the remaining files for his upcoming project.
"what's up?"
Lucerys leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, "Rhaella has a daddy-daughter dance this weekend and due to unforeseen issues Aemond can not take her. she asked me to ask you if you wouldn't mind taking her?"
their was a moment of silence as Jacaerys's violet eyes studied his brother. "what color is her dress?"
"she chose a dark red," Luke answered with a sweet smile.
"she has good taste. no problem I'll take her," Jace replied, a warm feeling spreading in his chest.
"thank you, Jace. truly I deeply appreciate it," Lucerys replied.
"go ahead and pay my favor back with allowing me to take you and her to dinner tonight," Jace said.
lucerys softly laughed before glancing at what the day was. Wednesday. he nibbled on his bottom lip before looking back at his brother. jacaerys was doing everything in his will power to not grab his little brother and smoother him in kisses.
"alright. do you want us to meet you at the restaurant?" he asked.
"I'll pick you up," Jace answered.
"alright then. I'll see you tonight," Lucerys told him.
jacaerys gave him a small nod before heading out the door. lucerys found himself staring at the closed door longer than he should've been. he released a deep sigh before finishing up his work and going to pick up Rhaella from school.
"muña," Rhaella huffed as she got into the BMW.
"what's wrong baby?" Luke asked as her as he drove down the road.
"Daenys ignored me all day today. I didn't even do anything wrong to her. All she said was, "I don't want to talk to you." I don't know why," Rhaella spoke extremely sad and she started picking at skin around her nails.
"hey, hey, baby. don't do that. I have something that's gonna brighten your day up real quick," Luke quickly said.
her violet eyes lit up as she met his gaze in the rear view mirror, "uncle Jace wants to talk to you so we're are going to have dinner with him."
"yes! did you tell him about the dance, mommy?" she quickly asked.
"we'll see what he says at dinner," Luke teased his daughter. Rhaella was beyond happy as they arrived home and she rushed inside to bathe and change clothes. they both were dressed in casual jeans and sweaters. Luke had finished the rhaella's pigtails when the door bell rang and she dashed to the door.
"uncle Jace!" she squealed and reached her arms open for him.
"Rhaella!" he yelled in the same excitement and picked her up. Rhaella giggled as Jace started asking millions of questions about her day. the sound made Luke's heart yearn. how he wished he could home everyday to that sound.
"ready?" Jace asked him.
Lucerys looked up from the floor to Jace holding Rhaella in his arms. he was also in jeans and in an old football jersey he's kept for so long. it was the perfect sight for sore eyes. he softly smiled and shook his head. the trio got into jace's truck and drove to surprisingly, a random diner Rhaenyra used to take Luke and Jace to. Rhaella held Jace's hand as they entered the diner.
"they have the best milkshakes here, rhae. your gonna love it," Jace told the five year old.
"rhae?" Luke quietly asked.
"yeah, she needs a nickname. or should I call her ella? what do you call her?" Jace asked him as they sat down in a booth.
"he calls me baby, sweetling, little dragon, sweetie," Rhaella starts naming off the nicknames Luke uses, "you can call me whatever mommy calls me."
"is that okay with mommy?" Jace asked, the word mommy came off with darker tone that completely went over Rhaella's head, but not Luke. Lucerys was on the inside of the booth and Jace was beside him. Rhaella had the other side to herself. Lucerys stared at Jace and he didn't break contact either.
"yes, that's fine with mommy," Luke played along.
he can see jace's pupils dilate at his answer. he gave a small nod to tell Rhaella about the dance because he hadn't told her yet. "oh, Rhaella, will you let me take you to the daughter dance?" Jace asked her.
her violet eyes lit up and a toothy smile on her lips, "yes! yes! please! I'm wearing a red dress and you have to match!"
"I cross my heart, I will match you," he immediately answers.
Rhaella smiled and told Lucerys what she wanted to eat. after burgers, fries, and a hot dog (for Jace) they ordered three milkshakes.
"vanilla for the little dragon, chocolate for uncle Jace, and strawberry for mommy," Jace spoke as he passed the milkshakes to the correct person. again Lucerys simply eyed him for a second and he did the same. Jace picked up his cherry and ate still not breaking eye contact with lovely brother.
"why do you keep staring at each other?" Rhaella asked not even looking at them.
"no reason, love," Luke answered and sipped his milkshake.
after dinner it was still early so they stopped by the park again. this time Lucerys was very involved with playing with his daughter and brother. Rhaella tired out quickly and fell asleep in jace's arms as they walked to their house. it was comfortable silence around the brothers as they got home. Jace carefully passed the five year old to Luke's arms. Lucerys held her tightly and took her to bed. when he came back down Jace was holding a family picture in hand. all of a sudden the comfortable silence was replaced with dark tension.
"aemond's a lucky a guy," he repeated the words from the day before.
"Jace not now," Lucerys said taking the picture from him and putting it back. Jace grabbed his arms and pulled him close.
"where is your husband? why won't he take Rhaella to the dance?" he asked in a low tone.
"jacaerys, you wouldn't understand," Lucerys whispered as he tried to get out of his brothers grip.
"I can. talk to me Luke." he said again.
Lucerys shook his head and managed to slip out of his hold and go into the kitchen. jacaerys quickly lifted Luke up on the island counter and came between his legs.
"no, Jace. this can't happen again," Lucerys told him as he now got a better look at his brother from the lighting.
"I won't do anything you don't want me to. Lucerys, I need you back in my life. even if it's including Rhaella. I can't take her to a daddy-daughter dance and not never see her again. I need to see you more often then in just your office. please, please Lucerys," Jace begged as he pulled his flushed to his and his big hands ran up and down his thighs.
it's had been months without touching himself and Lucerys felt himself going feral at the touches. he was so close to where he needed him but it wasn't enough.
"eat me out. I'll think about it." he spat out.
Jace didn't waste time undoing Luke's jeans and pulling them off. he leaned down and immediately latched onto his clit. loud slurping echoed in the hallow kitchen as Jace took his fill. Lucerys did his best to not moan so loud in fear of waking up his daughter upstairs.
"just like that Jace," Lucerys moaned as he curled his hand into his curls and tugged. jace groaned in response sending vibrations into Luke. jacaerys inserted two fingers into the clenching pussy in front of him and curled them at perfect pace to the soft spot inside.
Lucerys felt months of pent up tension and anger finally escaping as he melted into pure ecstacy. "just like that baby. fuck yes. good boy." Luke moaned.
jacaerys wasn't going to last and Luke wasn't even touching him. the words of praises were enough after years of being separated from his little brother. Lucerys arche his back off the island and his orgasm rippled through him. jace put his hand on Luke's mouth as obscene moans escaped him. Jace took his time cleaning Lucerys up with his tongue and his cock was painfully hard at this time. when he was done he pulled Luke to sit up and smashed their lips together. it was messy and sloppy but that's how they liked it.
"let me take care of you," Luke whispered. Jace could barley speak because he just wanted Luke's taste everywhere on his mouth. he helped his brother down from the counter and half naked he got down on his knees. he unbuckled jace's jeans and pulled them down.
"you might want to hold onto the counter," Luke told him as he grabbed his cock in his hand.
"why-"
Lucerys immediately deep throated jace's cock. it had been a while since he had done anything sexual. aemond was always busy and never had time to even visit. when he did it a rare occasion. Jace tossed his head back, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the counter.
God he's bigger then when were teens.
Luke pulled away from his throbbing cock and took his balls into his mouth. the sensation was new to jacaerys since it's been a while for him too.
"fuck Luke," Jace groaned as Luke let his balls go with wet pop and went back to sucking. his cheeks hollowed out and his glossy blue eyes looked up at his brother with Innocence that wasn't there anymore. Jace came quick with the eye contact and Lucerys swallowed every salty-sweet drop.
Jace helped him up on shakey legs and cupped his face before kissing him again. "was that enough time for you to think of I can see you again?" Jace asked him breathlessly.
Lucerys softly giggled, "yeah, that was enough time."
#lucerys velaryon#jace is giving uncle jessie vibes#house of the dragon#hotd#prince lucerys#jaceluke#jacaerys targaryen#prince jacaerys#jace x lucerys#hotd jacaerys#jace velaryon#jacaerys x lucerys#lucerys targaryen#luke velaryon#fanfic#fanfiction
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Daddy's Trophies (George Russell)
George managed to bring some of the most important people that supported him throughout his career to finally see and hold his trophies
Note: english is not my first language, here is some dad!George and family!Georgecontent that I hope you enjoy!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking longer requests like this for the time being, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can but know that I am writing them in a blurb/smaller form!
"Mummy, do I need to put on my cardigan?", Olivia asked as she held the piece of clothing, "yes, bubs, it's probably going to be a bit cold outside and when you take your big coat off it's going to be worse if you don't have the cardigan", you explained as she complied, holding her sleeves on her hands like her grandmother had taught her so she could put her cardigan on without her shirt crumbling inside the sleeve, "Good job Olivia!", you praised as you tied the laces on Arthur's shoes, "And you mister, we need to get you a coat from the wardrobe because you have already outgrown yours!", you said as you turned back to get it, "That's because I'm a big boy!", he squealed as you let out a chuckle, urging them to follow you so you could make your way to your parents in law's house. Grabbing a backpack with their things as well as your own, you got to the car, strapping the kids in their seats and driving to the first stop, seeing Steve and Alisson's car already coming out of their house and follow you to the Mercedes factory.
Arriving in the Mercedes AMG F1 HQ, you parked your car as close to the door as possible before texting George that you had arrived, taking the kids out of the car and putting their coats on, "Is daddy here already?", Olivia asked as you nodded, "Why?", Arthur asked as you zipped his coat, "Because this is where daddy works during the week", you said as you saw Steve and Allison approach, the kids running to greet their grandparents who picked each of them up on their arms, "Look at how grown up you are guys!", they beamed as you grabbed the backpack and your things, looking the car as you made your way to them, "you saw us last week grandpa, we haven't grown much! Although Arthur did need a new coat, look!", she pointed to her brother, Allison giving her a smile, "at this rate it's safe to say that he's taking after George's height, we got the old coat barely 6 months ago and he's already outgrown it!", you said as you greeted your in laws before heading in.
"Little Russells, how are you?", the secretary at the front desk said as she gave each of you a lanyard for your neck, the little ones getting a sticker to put on their clothes while you collected their outerwear in your arms, seeing your husband approach, "Daddy!", they, alike they had done with his parents, ran to his arms, George crouching to hug them both, "did you have a good day at school? Didn't give mummy too much trouble?", he asked as he kissed their heads before coming back up straight, holding each of their hands in his before looking at you, stretching his neck slightly to press a kiss to your forehead before he felt his children pull at his arms, ready for the adventure. A few weeks ago, George was talking to Toto and from the conversation he realised his kids and his parents had never actually seen any of his trophies up close, let alone hold them, and given that his parents played such an important role on his career and his kids were two of the people that made me want to work more and do better everyday, so it only made sense that they too would get to see them.
Walking through the corridors you knew a little bit of from previous visits on your own, you, Steve and Allison followed George, Olivia and Arthur until you reached one of the rooms where they build the car parts after placing some earprotectors on the little ears, Arthur absolutely thrilled when he found a screw and one of the engineers allowed him to put it on properly in the component they were working on and, when you moved to one of the simulator rooms, Olivia was having the best time as she sat on her father's lap while he drove in the circuit simulation. "Olivia, Arthur! You came to the office and didn't tell me?", you heard Toto say just as you were closing the SIM room door, "Toto!", Olivia was the first to let go of her father's hand, running to Toto to meet his highfive, Arthur running behind her and doing the same before the waved at you to come closer, "Are you guys headed to see the trophies?", Toto asked after he greeted you briefly, heading to the room when you nodded.
"This one I won when I was 24, in Monza", he crouched down so the kids could see it on his hands, afraid that they would hurt themselves if they dropped it on their feet, "did you know mummy when you were 24?", Olivia mused, looking up at you, "I did, me and mummy met when we were 21", he recalled the day where his eyes first landed on you, your laugh catching his attention before he saw you, his heart skipping a beat, "So you're very old", she concluded from the small conversation, making you fake gasp, "did you just say I'm old?", you exaggerated your reaction, earning giggles from her, "it's alright, you're very pretty still, mummy. Oh look, is that me or Arthur in your mummy's belly?", Olivia asked as she pointed to one of the pictures next to the trophy where you were pregnant, George's right hand craddling your bump while his left one held the trophy from a race in Silverstone, your smiles massive as you looked at the camera, "that would've been you Olivia, but that one right there", George pointed to a bigger frame where you were craddling a baby boy in your arms next to George and another trophy, "That is Arthur, look, little man, it's you!", he said as he grabbed the frame so they could take a closer look, "I was holding the trophy grandma has on her hands right now", he said before he hugged his mother's side, "it's incredible how much you have achieved in your career. Seems like it was yesterday that you were telling me that the kart was either too slow or too noisy in certain parts of the circuit and I kept taking notes to see where your father could improve it, my goodness, and it was so long ago, look at them!", she pointed to her youngest son's children running around eachother, the trophies long forgotten for now. Pressing a kiss to his mum's forehead, he went to your side, looking at the cabinet that held the trophies from his first season in Mercedes, "These bring back a lot of memories", you began, stretching your arm to hold your husband's waist, leaning on his chest a bit when he put his arm around your shoulders, "so much has changed", he nodded to your children, "but at the end of it, it's still us, since then and until forever", George finished as he kissed your forehead, your head tilting so you could get a proper kiss, "even when I get old and wrinkly?", you teased, "Olivia already seems to think you're old so I wouldn't worry about it", he replied back, your hand swatting his chest playfully as you admired your children and his parents talking about the different circuit shaped trophies.
#george russell imagine#george russell × reader#george russell fic#george russell fluff#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic
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small town
Chapter 16 - Let's Hear It for the Boy
IN THIS CHAPTER: Science fiction double feature, rotten eggs, and Eddie turns 20 [12.2k]
WARNINGS: bullying (mentions of racism and fatphobia), childhood trauma (hair trauma, child neglect, toxic masculinity), one use of a homophobic slur (f-word), mild spoilers for The Rocky Horror Picture Show and The Exorcist (specific mentions of the crucifix scene, if you've seen the movie, you know what this is about)
A/N: shout out to my one and only @gutterratt for helping me figure out my way through old horror movies! i'm a wuss so i relied heavily on her opinions to make this work (also read a few entire scripts and scared myself lmao). thank you for being the best teacher i could have asked for. 10 more days until i get to hug the shit out of you <3
masterlist - prev - next | playlist
We always have a real good time
And maybe he sings off-key
But that's all right by me, yeah
Thursday, May 15th - 1986
On Eddie’s 20th birthday it rained cats and dogs. There was a light shower during the early morning which stopped at around 10 only to come back with a vengeance after lunch, and by the time the school day had ended, the weather was warm and humid with a sky-obscuring fog that made it seem like it was much later than it actually was. Eddie, as he always did when it rained, offered to take Gareth home so he gave his friend his keys and asked him and Dottie to wait in the van while he finished up a private conversation with Mrs. Vaughn, his Drawing teacher. She was quite impressed with how his portfolio was shaping up, and wanted to know more about the subjects he’d chosen to portray in his art. Some talks were meant to be kept behind closed doors.
Gareth left Dottie at her locker where she was fighting to fit Eddie’s birthday present in her backpack without absolutely destroying the muffin she’d baked for him during Home Ec and headed towards the parking lot to wait for his friends in the safety of the van. Dottie had barely managed to zip up her backpack when a pair of pink sneakers came up to where she was kneeling.
“Do you need help?” a warm, melodic voice asked.
Dottie looked up to find Chrissy Cunningham, the current Queen of Hawkins High, smiling at her like they’d known each other for years. She wasn’t wearing her full cheerleading uniform that day; instead she had chosen cuffed jeans and a lovely cream blouse, her strawberry blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Wow, Dottie thought without an ounce of shame for ogling. She’s gorgeous. Realizing she had been staring up at the kind (almost) stranger, she quickly stood and threw her backpack over her shoulder.
“Oh, no, thank you! I’ve got it,” Dottie said, and Chrissy smiled even wider if it was even possible.
“You’re Dottie Burke, right? We’re in World History together, you sit with Jeff Patton two seats in front of me?”
“Yup, that’s me! And you’re Chrissy Cunningham, you sit with, um, Melissa?”
“Yes, Melissa Levine,” the blonde’s eyes brightened up, pleased that this conversation was going smoothly. “I know you’re best friends with Eddie so could you give this to him for me?”
Chrissy presented a shiny green gift bag to her. It was carefully sealed with a big transparent sticker from the store where it had been purchased from and a huge silvery bow was tied to the handles. Of all the things she had been expecting her to pull out behind her back, a birthday gift for Eddie hadn’t been in her Top 10 List at all.
“Are you sure? He’ll come back in a sec if you want to give it to him yourself, he’s just talking to a teacher.”
“Yeah, I think he already knows what it is,” Chrissy waved her hand like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’d wait for him but my boyfriend is in the car already so…”
“Oh, yeah, totally. I can give this to Ed for you, don’t worry.”
“Thank you, you’re so nice!” she said, beaming at her. “I’m sorry if I’m coming off too strong, Eddie said we’d get along so I thought “well, what am I waiting for”, right?”
“You’re fine, seriously,” Dottie laughed; Chrissy’s bubbly energy was contagious. “He told me we’d get along too. Something about you liking Queen and owning all the records?”
“Yes! Gosh, I love Queen! Do you? We should hang out sometime, we can listen to them together.”
“Absolutely, yes. I’d love that.”
“Okay, cool! I’ll see you around, okay?”
“Yeah, sure! Have fun on your date!”
“How did you know I’m going on a date?” Chrissy said, mild intrigue on her face.
“You just look really pretty and you mentioned your boyfriend so I thought you might be going on a date with him,” Dottie explained like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I like your makeup.”
“Oh,” she said, stopping for a moment.
Chrissy wasn’t a stranger to people telling her she was pretty. She had grown up going to pageants and being paraded as a doll by her mother but the compliments were always the same and regarding things she didn’t care about, like how big her Mom had teased her hair, and how thin she looked like in that formal gown. No one had ever told her something she did for herself, like her daily makeup, was pretty. She gave Dottie a big toothy smile, genuine and warm.
“Thank you! I like your dress!”
“Thanks, it was my Mom’s. It has pockets!” the brunette said, shoving a hand inside the left pocket of her short black jumper dress to demonstrate.
“I love that! Not enough dresses have pockets, it’s a shame.”
They said their goodbyes again and Chrissy disappeared down the hallway, leaving Dottie to consider that maybe she really did need more girl friends. She loved her Hellfire boys, and of course Erica was great, but she had missed the kind of special warmth female friendships gave - the gentle toughness she’d always admired in her Aunts’ actions. Now that she knew what a real friend was supposed to look like thanks to the guys, she realized that whatever she had thought Jeannie was during her life in New York hadn’t exactly been a good example of true friendship. Dottie wondered if, given enough time, Chrissy could become a real friend. She was, after all, good friends with Eddie already and he seemed like a fine judge of character so far.
“You ready to bounce?” Eddie asked, hurrying down the hallway to where she was still standing.
“Yeah! This is for you, by the way,” Dottie said, giving him the gift bag. “It’s from Chrissy.”
“Chris- damnit, I told her not to do it,” he shook his head, a fond smile gracing his face. He accepted the bag and shoved it inside his backpack to protect it from the rain; he had a pretty good idea of what it was but he’d look at it once they were home. “Come on, let’s go.”
He guided Dottie towards the parking lot with a hand on the back of her bag, keeping her close as they ran out into the rain and towards the dry seats of his van. They were almost there when Eddie noticed someone curled into themselves near the furthest column that supported the overhang roof at the entrance, a figure huddled up on the floor wearing what looked like Gareth’s red plaid shirt. He looked at his van and saw instantly that his friend was not sitting inside waiting for them, and the vehicle wasn’t even on. What the fuck, he thought bitterly, taking note that the door on the driver’s side was covered in what looked like a runny viscous liquid. The rain was washing it away, but the white and light brown shells on the floor were enough to confirm his suspicions. Switching gears quickly, he pulled Dottie under his arm and guided her towards Gareth.
“What’s going on?” she asked, looking up at him, arm up trying to keep the rain out of her face.
“Gareth!” he yelled for an answer, and the younger boy lifted his teary head up from his knees. “Jesus Christ.”
“Oh my god, what happened to you?” Dottie exclaimed, rushing to their friend.
“They were waiting for Eddie. Said it was a birthday present,” he sniffed, lifting his arm to wipe his face with his sleeve and putting it down instantly when he saw it was filthy. He smelled like rotten eggs.
“I’m so sorry, man,” Eddie said, crouching next to him.
“Not your fault,” Gareth shrugged. “You always cover for me so… guess it was time I covered you for once.”
“This has happened before?” Dottie asked, and both boys looked at her like it was common sense. “Who- who did this to you? How many times?”
“It isn’t always eggs,” Gareth sniffed again. “One time they threw mud at Donny, called him a pig. Gave Dustin a swirly a couple of times but they don’t touch Mike anymore since they found out Nancy Wheeler is his sister. Andy is the worst, he, um-” he interrupted himself and looked at Eddie.
“Andy Humphrey,” Eddie sighed. “He put a bunch of racist notes in Jeff’s locker for a couple of months last year. We saw him doing it but Higgins didn’t do shit about it. He’s on the basketball team, always wears that stupid hat.”
“Yeah, I know him,” Dottie said. “He’s in my AP Spanish class, he’s barely passing. He cheated on our last pop quiz, he knows I saw because he winked at me like he was trying to get me on his side.”
“Almost everyone on the basketball team sucks,” Gareth said. “I don’t know what Lucas is doing with them.”
“Lucas?”
“Lucas Sinclair. Erica’s brother?” Eddie explained. “He used to play with us before he decided being a freak wasn’t good enough for him.”
“I mean… I don’t blame him. I smell like a sewer,” Gareth grimaced.
“Okay, come on, let’s get you home,” Dottie said, patting his knee to get him to stand up.
“I’ll just walk, I’m gonna get the van dirty.”
“No way, man, not in this thunderstorm. Get in the back,” Eddie instructed.
The three of them headed back to the van, the rain not relenting for a single second. On the bright side, Eddie’s door wasn’t dirty anymore, clean from the constant water streaming upon the metal. On the other hand, Gareth was soaked and shivering by the time he sat himself on a plastic crate at the back of the van, keeping himself away from the blankets and pillows, windows cracked open to let cool air in and rotten egg smell out. They drove to Gareth’s house in silence, only the occasional sniffling coming from the dirty boy wallowing in his own misery could be heard under the vehicle’s rumbling.
When they arrived and pulled up to Gareth’s garage, Eddie wasn’t expecting Dottie to get out too, leaving behind her backpack tucked under the co-pilot seat. He followed the pair to the front door, heard the keys tinkling against each other as his friends walked inside and hurried up to get out of the rain. In the foyer, Dottie peeled off her cardigan and sneakers before directing Gareth to his bathroom.
“Eddie, can you get a chair from the kitchen?” she asked, already pushing Gareth down the hallway.
Eddie complied with her request, bringing one of the aluminum chairs with pleather seats into the Jack and Jill that connected Gareth’s bedroom with his sister’s. Gareth was peeling his dirty sleeveless shirt and sweatshirt off his body, Dottie kneeling near his feet helping him take his rain soaked shoes off.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling softly at Eddie before looking up at Gareth. “You sit.”
“Why can’t I just take a shower?” he complained, but still sat down on the chair.
“Because you’re not only covered in gunk, there’s eggshells in your hair. Let me get them out and we’ll leave you to shower in peace, okay?” she pulled back the bath curtain and got his shampoo and conditioner, coming to stand next to the sink.
The birthday boy watched her work, carefully picking all the shells out of Gareth’s hair and throwing them into the pink waste bin that was hidden next to the toilet. She got rid of the knots in his hair with a glittery blue plastic comb that clearly belonged to Gretchen, wetting it with warm water between each pass. Eddie could feel something bubbling up his chest, but it wasn’t anything like the usual jealousy he swore he had stopped feeling days ago. No, this was something different, much more deep seated, clawing up his throat and threatening to tear his insides apart leaving no prisoners behind. This was something he’d been ignoring for a very long time, from before he even knew a Gareth Coleman or a Dorothy Burke. This padlock had been sealed shut with rust ages ago, the key long forgotten somewhere no one, not even Eddie, would find it anymore.
Dottie poured water on Gareth’s scalp with her hands, making him shiver once and then giggle at himself for his reaction. She worked the shampoo into his curls, pulling his hair once to make him wince when he made a stupid comment that Eddie wasn’t listening. He watched the suds fall into the pure white porcelain of the sink bowl as she washed them away with the utmost patience and care.
“You should be a hairdresser,” Gareth said, eyes closed while he relaxed into her touch.
“I could never. You know that smell when you walk into a salon? I fucking hate it,” she said, snorting at the end.
When was the last time Eddie had gone to a salon for a haircut? Not since living with Wayne, that’s for sure. The last time he’d had a haircut he hadn’t given himself in his own bathroom was back in middle school, when a neighbor buzzed all his hair off during that horrible lice outbreak he’d told Dottie about. He remembered that before he turned 12, before she passed away calmly in her sleep, his Grandma kept his hair rather short, like it had been that summer he’d spent in her care when he was eight. And before that… Eddie didn’t like to remember before that.
Dottie shook the bottle of conditioner until a small blob hit her palm and began weaving her fingers into Gareth’s curls. They were still chatting quietly, their long haired friend hovering in the hallway near the door. Eight years. Eight years since anyone had touched Eddie’s hair, since anyone that wasn’t himself had run a brush through his curls and snapped the damaged ends off with a pair of sharp scissors. He hated getting haircuts from his Grandma - not because she was bad at doing them, but because she always pulled at the knots a little bit too harshly, muttering about how boys with longer hair were unkempt and unruly. And Eddie loved his Grandma so much, and she loved him so much in return, but in those moments there was no denying that she was his father’s mother, and getting haircuts from her only reminded him of Wyatt Munson calling him a faggot because his curls reached the collar of his school shirt before he dropped him off at a cheap salon and returned five hours later, smelling of booze and nicotine and regrets.
Eddie used to feel so guilty whenever he went to the salon. Wyatt would treat him like absolute shit, and then he’d sob quietly in the chair while a middle aged lady told him things like “boys don’t cry” and “it’s just hair, kid, don’t be a brat”, only for Wyatt to return and ask her if she’d turned his little girl into a proper boy. A while back, when Eddie first got his driver’s license, he drove past that salon on his way to Donny’s family restaurant and felt like he’d won the damn lottery when he saw it had been closed for several years. Fuck that place, he’d thought and promptly sped up.
“Hey,” a hand touched his arm, making him jump lightly. “Where’d you go?”
“Sorry,” he said quickly, blinking a few times and focusing on Dottie’s worried face in front of him. “I think I fell asleep for a second.”
“We’re done so… we can go now,” she said, not pushing him for an answer.
She’d seen that face on him before, back when they were arguing about his moldy ceiling, and immediately decided they weren’t going to have this conversation in front of Gareth. The younger boy had a small towel on his head like a nun’s headdress to stop his curls from dripping all over the floor as he gathered his dirty clothes and walked past them towards the laundry room.
“Sorry about all this,” said Gareth, standing under his front door’s frame.
“Wasn’t your fault, man. Sorry you got caught in the crossfire,” Eddie reassured him, waiting for Dottie to finish putting on her sneakers.
“Better me than you.”
“Tell you what, why don’t you pick the movie tomorrow? Anything you want.”
“Anything?” he asked, mischief glinting in his eyes.
“Just… don’t pick anything stupid, okay? The Boogey Man sucked ass.”
“You have no fucking taste,” Gareth complained, rolling his eyes.
“Wait, hold on, are we gonna watch a horror film?” Dottie asked in the direction of the younger boy.
“It’s tradition, we always watch horror movies on our birthdays.”
“Can we not do that this time? You know I hate horror. We can do a thriller, that’s like… horror-adjacent, right?”
“Horror-adjac… Dude,” Gareth turned to Eddie, seeking an ally.
It’s not that Eddie was dying to watch a horror film, he really wasn’t. He was happy to watch whatever most of the time, like when Jeff had insisted on watching Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone for some weird reason and he’d gone along for the ride because, well, any movie was still a movie. Eddie loved stories, the more outlandish the better. He wasn’t about to complain about two hours of mindless entertainment, regardless of the subject of the VHS tape in the player. Caught between his two friends, one who looked at him with exasperation at even suggesting a change of plans and the other one with the cutest goddamned pout and rounded eyes he had ever seen, well, he was only human. If Jesus had stumbled, why wouldn’t he do it too?
“Maybe we can skip the horror this time,” he said.
“Come on, man, don’t let her peer-pressure you!”
“Peer-pressure? God, you’re such a little-”
“Okay, okay, calm down, Jesus,” Eddie lifted his hands, getting between them. “How about this? We do a double feature. You each pick one movie and you can’t complain about what the other one chooses, alright? It’s my birthday, don’t make me uninvite you.”
“But-”
“Take it or leave it, Gareth, it’s my final offer.”
“Fine,” Gareth grumbled.
“Thank you,” Dottie said, still looking apprehensive but not wanting to push the argument further.
This was a tradition she hadn’t been a part of since its inception and she wasn’t going to fight her way in when they were so graciously holding the door open for her. Friends do stuff they don’t enjoy to make other friends happy sometimes, it’s okay. They’d do it for me. I’ll just… suck it up and watch the floor for two hours, she thought as they said their goodbyes and ran under the rain to get to Eddie’s van. He was excitedly going on about the cake Wayne had gotten for him on the way to the trailer, and Dottie couldn’t find it in herself to care about what horrifying movie Gareth was gonna subject her too when Eddie looked so happy to spend his special day with his Uncle and her.
“Wayne, we’re home!” Eddie yelled, trying to put his key in to open his front door.
Dottie was standing very still in front of Eddie, his chest to her back and arms on either side of her while he wrestled with his keys, shielding her from the storm with his body. The copious raindrops falling on them pinged off the leather jacket that was keeping him cozy and dry, soaking his hair that curtained Dottie’s head from above. She was holding both their backpacks against her chest, trying to protect them and their contents from the rain.
“Wayne!” he yelled again, hitting the door twice with his fist.
“Hold on, I’m coming,” the older man replied from the inside, hurrying up to let them in. "Where were you?"
"Got held up at school," said Eddie, guiding Dot in and closing the door quickly behind his back before shedding his wet jacket. "Talked to that teacher I told you about last night. She said I have talent."
"Coulda told you that myself," Wayne smiled at him, pulling his big boy into a hug and patting his back. "Happy birthday, Ed."
"Thanks, Wayne," Eddie melted into his Uncle. They didn't hug often, less so now that he wasn't a little kid anymore, but if you asked him, his Uncle Wayne gave the best hugs in the entire world because whenever he gave you one, he definitely meant it. "Can we have cake now?"
"Get the candles," Wayne jerked his head towards the kitchen where a set of barely used birthday candles were waiting in the bottom drawer ready to grant a new wish.
While Eddie busied himself putting the candles on a small chocolate cake, Dottie cleared the coffee table, setting his gifts on the floor. There were three presents: Chrissy's shiny green bag that had gotten a bit smushed in Eddie's backpack, a thin rectangle in bright blue paper, and a little package smaller than a hand. Wayne added two to the pile wrapped in the same red paper; one looked soft, the other one was a square box. Dottie's funfetti muffin ended up with its own candle next to the cake.
"Light me up, princess," Eddie said, pointing to a BIC lighter that had been abandoned in the coffee table bowl at some point.
"I can't," Dottie admitted, looking embarrassed. "I don't know how to use that kind of lighter, the flick thing scares me."
"The flick thing?"
"You know, the thingy you have to roll with your thumb? That scrapes something inside and sparks up?"
"The sparkwheel?"
"I don't know what it's called!" Eddie held back a grin. "Don't laugh at me, I don't like how close the spark is to the finger. It's a perfectly reasonable fear, I don't want to burn myself!"
"No, yeah, absolutely. You're totally right" he said, fighting a chuckle. God, she's so fucking cute. He reached into a kitchen drawer and retrieved a small matchbox. “Here, use these.”
“The Hideout,” she read aloud on the front of the box. “That’s where you guys play on Tuesdays, right?”
“Yeah, they have a big bowl of these on the bar. I grab a couple every few weeks, haven’t bought real matches in years.”
“Very smart,” she said, lighting the two candles at the same time Wayne found his old camera tucked away in their storage closet.
Eddie knelt in front of the coffee table, closing his eyes with only one wish in mind. Dottie and Wayne sang to him and he smiled, the sudden flash of the camera in his Uncle’s hands painting his eyelids pink for a brief second. His 19th birthday had been tainted with the knowledge that he was going to be held back for the second time in a row. Wayne had taken him to a diner that night; they’d gotten pancakes for dinner and Eddie had cried and apologized for being such a goddamn failure. The eldest Munson had simply let his tears dry before he’d said, very matter-of-factly: I didn’t finish high school, do you think I’m a failure? What’s important is that you keep tryin’ and see things through even if they get hard. Are you a quitter, Ed?
Please, let ‘86 be my year, Eddie thought as hard as he could, sending his prayer to the universe before he opened his eyes and blew both candles out with one single breath. Dottie clapped and hollered, making them laugh. Wayne nudged her side with his elbow, nodding once in his nephew’s direction.
“Come on, you two. Gimme a nice smile,” he lifted the camera again.
Dottie hurried to sit next to Eddie and he didn’t waste a second pulling her to him, cheeks pressed against each other’s. She smiled brightly, the muffin she’d made for him in her hands like a delicate flower, and his arms around her waist, tongue out in a funny face. Wayne committed the memory to film before Dottie lifted herself up onto her knees, making grabby hands at him, Eddie still holding onto her.
“I’ll take one of you two, Mr. Wayne!” she offered.
“How about we take a group picture?” he said, sitting on the couch behind them and turning the camera around.
The two teens huddled up at his feet, his nephew giving him instructions to frame everyone better (“You gotta go higher, Wayne, half your head will be out of the picture!”). After the flash went off, Dottie went to find a knife to cut the cake while Eddie tore into his gifts, starting with Wayne’s packages. He seemed to already know what the soft looking one was, but still ripped the paper with gusto, a childlike glint in his eyes.
Wayne’s gifts had clearly been picked from a thrift shop, but that didn’t damp Eddie’s excitement in the slightest. He thanked his Uncle profusely for his two new shirts and boxy jean shorts for the summer before moving onto the mystery box which turned out to be a thermos flask with a slightly faded Snoopy print.
“No way!” he said, gleefully. “I’ve been trying to get one of these for ages!”
“I know,” Wayne said, proudly. “Heard you yappin’ about it so I asked Loretta to hold one for me if she ever saw them. Said they got a few of them a couple of months ago so I went and snatched one for you.”
“A couple of months ago? Where did you hide it all this time?”
“Under the seat in my truck,” he laughed, and Dottie was reminded once again of how similar the Munson men truly were.
“Gonna start checking down there around Christmas,” Eddie said, narrowing his eyes. He passed the flask to Dottie to examine who traded it for a plate of cake.
“This is really cute, Mr. Wayne. Wish mine was pretty like this one.”
“You got one of these?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah, my Grandpa gave me his old one a few years ago. It looks so ugly, it’s like… plaid? But it keeps water cool in the summer so I can’t really complain. He got it for his fishing trips but he never used it so I got it instead. The perks of being his only grandchild,” she waved her fingers.
“You don’t have cousins?” Wayne asked, digging into his own piece of cake while Eddie picked a new present to open.
“No, both my parents are only children. All my Aunts and Uncles are their friends. I’ve got a big family, but I’m not blood related to any of them.”
“Oh, shit,” Eddie muttered, his attention on the long thin box in his hands.
Chrissy’s gift had turned out to be a red tie. The fabric was soft and silky, slightly shiny, and the tie itself was on the thinner side. There was a simple white card in the bag, it only said “For: Eddie, From: Chrissy” but she’d dotted the I’s with tiny hearts. He caressed the side of the box lightly, staring at it in wonder. He’d never owned a tie, much less one that looked as expensive as this one. When he’d asked Chrissy for advice on what to wear for prom, he’d never imagined she’d take it upon herself to make sure he was presentable. He’d have to figure out a way to make it up to her for her birthday, maybe Dottie would know how to help.
“That’s nice,” Wayne said, craning his neck to see into the box. “That one yours, Dot?”
“No, this one’s Chrissy’s,” she replied.
“Who’s Chrissy?”
“Chrissy Cunningham,” Eddie said, realizing he’d never talked to his Uncle about his most unlikely friend. “We’re in Sociology together.”
Dottie knew he was lying; Eddie only shared Sociology with Jeff but it wasn’t like he could tell Wayne he’d become friends with a cheerleader by selling her weed, could he? She noticed how suspicious his Uncle was by his statement and decided to help him out.
“I’m in World History with her, she’s really kind,” Dottie said, making Eddie look up at her too. “We were talking about Queen when you were with Mrs. Vaughn today, she said she liked my dress.”
“She did?”
“Yeah! She liked the pockets,” she smiled at him. “You gonna wear this for prom?”
“I think that’s why she got it for me,” Eddie chuckled. “I told her we’re all wearing Hellfire colors. Gareth got a red bowtie the other day.”
“I still haven’t found a dress I like or that fits right,” she huffed. “Dad said we’re gonna have to go to Indianapolis, we’ve been to every shop in Hawkins already.”
“A lot of shops closed last year ‘cause of the mall,” Wayne said, clearing up the cake plates. “Never reopened after the fire. Damn shame.”
“Can I open these ones?” Eddie interrupted, excited about the two other presents he had left on the pile.
“Sure!”
“Any special order?”
“No, they’re separate from each other.”
He decided to open the bigger one first, fairly confident about it being a book. He tore the paper to find a hardcover notebook, black with an elastic to keep it closed. It looked fancy, but not particularly special, at least not until he opened it. It was sheet music, 14 five-line staffs on every off-white page, binded and with a pocket on the back. He turned to the first sheet, blank, no lines but with a note written in familiar black ink. For my favorite rockstar, from your darling Dottie. With a little daisy at the end. He stared at it for a minute that never seemed to end and looked up at her, big rounded eyes pushing his eyebrows under his fringe.
“You were talking about wanting to write more songs for Corroded Coffin last week at practice, so I thought you might need a place to keep everything organized,” she explained, voice shy and a little soft.
“Dot, I-”
“Open the other one.”
Wordlessly, he grabbed the small box, instantly recognizing it as a cassette case. He removed the paper, aware that Wayne was watching them from behind the kitchen bar while he brewed some coffee, and turned the transparent case in his hand. 1986 - E&D was written on the front, colorful stickers decorating the plastic. The song list inside only had one entry: Hot Patootie - Meatloaf (RHPS).
“Just one song?” he asked, confused.
“I thought we could fill it up together. See, I wrote 1986 on this one, but we can make a new one for every year we’re friends so when we get old, we can remember what we were doing that year by the songs we chose. Like a musical scrapbook.”
“Fuck, I love you,” Eddie said, launching himself from the floor and tackling her to the carpet, dissolving into giggles as she fought to sit back down.
“Stop- Jesus, Ed- I don’t like tickles, stop!” she pleaded, writhing on the floor like a worm, thankful that she was wearing colorful leggings under her skirt.
“Who doesn’t like tickles?” he lifted himself up onto hands and knees above her, ceasing the attack but still caging her under his body.
“I get nervous if I can’t breathe right,” she explained, hair fanning out like a halo around her head. Eddie felt his knees go weak. “Also, it makes me feel like I’m gonna pee myself and that’s so embarrassing.”
“Okay, gotcha. No tickling,” he pulled them both into a sitting position and smiled, wrapping one arm around her. “Thank you, I love my gifts. And I already know what song I wanna add next to the mixtape.”
“Do tell.”
“Nope,” he shook his head dramatically. “You’ll find out when it’s done.”
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, turning to where Wayne was watching them, hiding a smile behind his mug.
“Happy birthday, son,” he said, raising his coffee to his mouth, and Eddie thought it might have been the happiest of them all.
After dishes had been washed and the rest of the cake had been put away until a certain birthday boy got the munchies at midnight, Eddie and Dottie decided to sit on the porch just outside his bedroom and leave Wayne to his devices. They lounged side by side on the old ratty couch, him working on his portfolio and her reading Pride and Prejudice out loud in an attempt to get him to finish the last book left in their compulsory reading list before finals week was upon them.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounded families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?”
The heavy rain hitting the tin roof provided the perfect ambiance for Eddie’s limbs to start feeling heavy and his hand to begin missing the lines he was trying to stay between while he shaded his latest piece. He closed his sketchbook and slid it through his open window to keep it dry in the safety of his bedroom, quickly returning to the couch to continue hearing the tales of the Bennet sisters. He laid down on the cushions, legs hanging off the armrest and head comfortably pillowed by Dottie's lap.
“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is no another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”
“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
What a lovely voice, Eddie thought about Dottie, closing his eyes and letting his impressive imagination create Austen's lavish world behind his eyelids. It wasn't too high-pitched, nor too low, with the cadence of someone who already knows the story they are reading and is aware of where to pause for dramatic effect. This Bingham fellow seems nice. Is this a love triangle-angle?, he wondered. Dottie's voice turned sweet when reading Jane, demure when reading Charlotte, and bratty when reading Lydia. She would be kind when she read Bingham, disdainful when Caroline and solemn when Darcy. But Eddie's favorite so far was her Lizzie voice, which turned sensible and self-assured, yet playful and naïve. He supposed it was because she used her own voice for her most preferred Bennet sister.
“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves; vanity to what we would have others think of us.”
“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.”
A page was turned, and Dottie’s hand that had been propped up on her armrest fell onto her lap, where it began playing with Eddie's hair. She had touched it before, albeit briefly, but never had she had the opportunity to absent-mindedly run her fingers through his curls like this. They were so much softer than she had expected. She continued this soothing motion, and Eddie kept his eyes closed, leaving her to wonder if his unusual stillness was due to him falling asleep under her touch. She stopped, not wanting to disturb him when his arm shot up and his hand curled around her wrist.
"Please," he muttered in a broken voice. "Keep going."
Eddie couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a haircut at a salon, but he also couldn't remember the last time anyone had brushed their fingers through the strands that had grown exponentially since middle school. He couldn't recall anyone helping him wash it, blow drying it for him, pushing it out of his face. And now Dottie was showing him the type of affection and care he'd craved for since before he learned how to tie his own shoes, and the rusty padlock with the missing key was beginning to break with the slightest amount of brute force applied to it.
"Please," Eddie pleaded, and Dottie closed the book, pulling her wrist out of his hand.
"Wait here," she said, moving her thighs so he'd let her get up and promptly disappeared into the trailer.
I've finally done it, he berated himself. I finally scared her off. But she reappeared quickly carrying a cushion and a rounded brush, sitting once again on the ratty couch. She opened her legs and put the cushion on the floor between them, motioning for him to sit down. Eddie complied without questioning it, his shoulders grazing against the colorful nylon leggings that covered her inner thighs while he faced the trailer park currently plunged into darkness by the storm. The first gentle but firm pull of the plastic bristles on his scalp made him shiver. The second one broke the dam.
Dottie brushed his hair in silence, being extra careful when she encountered a knot, undoing it slowly and patiently. Eddie sobbed without fear of judgment, because even though they weren't talking about it, he knew that she understood. How could she not, growing up with a single father who had never once in his life styled long hair before hers began to grow past her shoulders? So she brushed, and he cried, and they let go of yet another invisible weight together. When she put the brush down on the cushions, Eddie expected her to say something to ask him about what was happening. Instead, he felt her fingers running once, twice through the entire length of his hair, parting a small section near the top to his left on the third time. Dottie began braiding the strands into a thin plait, securing it with a small colorful plastic hair tie, the kind Eddie knew she always carried in her bag and had used a couple of times to pull her short curls into low pigtails.
She finished the braid, and moved onto the next one, right below the first one. Dottie wove strand with strand until she had three braids on either side of his head, all thinner than her own pinky. She pulled them back into a ponytail with the rest of his hair and brushed the ends for good measure one more time before dropping her weight on the floor between Eddie and the couch. Her arms curled around his waist, his chest to his back, her hands finding his curled into tight fists on his lap.
“You look like a viking now,” she said, softly.
“Thank you,” he replied, voice frail and small but full of meaning. She leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the base of his neck, just above his shirt, and he bit back another sob.
“Happy birthday, Ed,” she muttered, lips still pressed to his skin like she wanted to get the words permanently etched into it.
Dottie did not go back to reading out loud and Eddie didn’t fish his sketchbook from his room for the remainder of the evening. They simply sat together on the porch, tangled with one another as usual, and watched the rain fall and heard the thunder rumble until it was time for her to go home. They didn’t say anything about what had happened, but there was no need. Another padlock laid at their feet, and they weren’t afraid of busting them open anymore.
Friday, May 16th - 1986
“Fred? Fred!” Dottie called, pushing the doors to the Hawkins High newspaper room in a hurry. “Fred, are you here?”
“N-no, he’s- he went to see the nurse!” a familiar voice came from under the stairs.
Sitting on the floor and hiding between a few boxes that contained blank bundles of paper, was Nancy Wheeler. Her pretty calf-length pastel rainbow skirt covered her bent legs, concealing her feet from anyone who walked by. She had been crying, brown mascara staining the skin under her eyes but she clearly wasn’t anymore, face dry and eyes only slightly swollen. When she noticed Dottie coming to kneel next to her, she quickly hid the paper she was holding in her cardigan pocket. They didn’t know each other very well yet, were friendly at best, but Dottie knew that Nancy didn’t have many friends in school. She was highly regarded as a good student, on track to being the valedictorian with a bright future ahead but she could be a bit of a loner when she wasn’t being followed around by Fred Benson or another newspaper club member.
Nancy often chose to spend most of her time in the library studying or working on something for The Weekly Streak, building her journalism portfolio to parade around in search of internships when she left Hawkins for college in Boston. Dottie wasn’t one to gossip with anyone that wasn’t named Gareth Coleman, but Fred liked to talk. On one occasion when the junior was assisting Dottie with an urgent task, he’d babbled on and on about Nancy, her late friend Barb, the fact that she’d been considered Hawkins royalty for a period of time while she dated some popular guy who was captain of the swimming team, and how she’d dumped him rather publicly at a Halloween party and gotten together with known weirdo Jonathan Byers. She tried to steer Fred away from the topic at the time, but he was undeterred: it was clear the boy held some sort of candle for the pretty senior, and who was Dottie to tell him to snuff it out? She’d only known them for less than a month. Still, with the knowledge that Nancy was a bit of an outcast after the tragic death of her best friend, and coupled with the fact that she was Mike’s sister, Dottie couldn’t pretend like she hadn’t seen her distress.
“You okay?” she asked, giving her editor-in-chief enough room to answer however she wanted.
“Yeah, it’s… it’s nothing,” Nancy rolled her shiny blue eyes, waving a hand around. “Everything’s fine.”
“I was dropping by to leave these for Fred,” Dottie explained, showing her the stack of papers she was holding. “Is he okay?”
“Yes, he was just complaining about a headache. Nothing serious.”
“Good, okay. I’ll leave this on his station and we can go get a soda. Would that be alright?”
“You want to get a soda with me?” Nancy said, a soft smile gracing her lips.
“Of course! We can share M&Ms if you want too. I’ve known you for a month and all I know about you is that you’re going to Emerson and that Dustin thinks you’re a badass.”
“He called me badass?” she laughed, getting to her feet and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
“God, the kid loves you. Mike says he had a crush on you when they were younger.”
“Ugh, he did,” Nancy said, remembering the moment fondly. “Dustin is probably my favorite out of all my brother’s friends.”
“He’s so nice. His Mom did a great job with him.”
“Have you met Claudia? She’s quite the character,” she confided as the two girls climbed up the stairs and headed into the empty hallways side by side.
Nancy was funny. That was something Dottie hadn’t been expecting. She was polite and reserved, yes, but funny in the way people who notice things others don’t are. She carried their conversation well, asked Dottie questions to get to know her better while she answered the ones directed at her with ease. Her favorite color was pink, she liked all her classes except Math, was really excited about the release of Top Gun and was going to go see it with her Mom, Karen. She preferred Sprite to Coca-Cola, and in her opinion, the best M&Ms were the red ones, even though they all tasted the same. They sat on a bench just outside the cafeteria and talked about trivial things until they ran out of topics to explore.
“I wish we would have done this earlier,” Dottie said, popping a green candy into her mouth. “You’re really cool, Nance.”
“Thanks,” she said, chuckling shyly. “I think you might be collecting Wheeler siblings at this point. Should I let my Mom know you’re available to babysit Holly?”
“I actually have a lot of experience with babysitting. Give me until finals are done and if you need me, I’m there.”
“Speaking of babysitting, Mike mentioned you’re tutoring Eddie Munson.”
“I’m not really tutoring him, just… helping him keep his focus. We’re good friends.”
“I know. Mike,” Nancy said, like that explained everything and it actually did. “Actually, he… he mentioned you gave him advice a few times. About his girlfriend?”
“Yeah, I remember. Why are teenage boys so scared of their own feelings?”
“Tell me about it,” she scoffed, but immediately turned shy and rigid. “Could you… would it be okay if I asked you for advice too? It’s just- you are impartial in this situation and I think that’s what I need right now.”
“Sure, how can I help?” Dottie turned to her.
Nancy explained that she’d gotten a letter from her boyfriend, Jonathan. Ex-boyfriend, actually, but neither of them were good at the ex part. They had had a big argument over the phone after Spring break when post California-visit, Mike had accidentally let it slip that Jonathan didn’t want to go to Emerson with Nancy and had chosen community school instead. She hadn’t been upset about him changing his plans, but it definitely had hurt to know he’d been lying to her all this time, telling her he’d applied when he hadn’t, stringing her along for months on end. Dottie listened to Nancy retelling how she’d broken up with him, worried about if there were maybe other things he’d been hiding from her, and how Jonathan hadn’t tried to argue back once. He’d called two weeks later from a payphone outside the pizza parlor his new best friend worked at, high off his mind, crying and begging for her to take him back. Nancy had firmly said no, but that she was willing to talk more when he wasn’t on drugs.
This had happened mid-April, and Jonathan hadn’t called since. Instead, a letter addressed to Nancy had arrived that same Friday - four full pages of him not exactly asking for forgiveness, but explaining his reasoning in regards to his lies. Nancy didn’t share all the details, but the essential part was that as the eldest son of a single parent, he felt a sense of duty towards his siblings and didn’t want to move away so soon after they started high school in a new town where they had virtually to no friends and were getting bullied just for daring to exist. She did mention that his new sister Jane, Mike’s girlfriend, was still dealing with the loss of her adoptive father, so that situation on top of the move wasn’t helping in the slightest.
“I just don’t know what to do,” Nancy said, at the end of her long monologue. “If he’d told me all of this before, I would have understood him. He’s right, they are all having a hard time but did he have to lie about it for an entire year?”
“I think both sides are valid,” Dottie said, offering her the last candy in the package. “He’s not wrong for wanting to help his Mom and his siblings out, but he went about it in a really shitty way and you’re allowed to feel betrayed by it.”
“Am I?”
“Yes! Nancy, he lied to you! It was with the best of intentions, but he still lied. If you feel like that’s a hard limit in your relationship, you should tell him that, and he should respect it. And you. He should always respect you.”
“He does, he’s… I love him.”
“You can love someone and be upset with them at the same time. Just tell him how you feel instead of avoiding each other because you don’t want to get into a fight. Trust your instincts on this one.”
“You’re right. I’m gonna call him this weekend, and if we’re done, we’re done, but at least we handled it like adults.”
“That’s the spirit!” Dottie cheered her on. “Everything will turn out okay, I have faith in you both.”
“Thank you,” Nancy said, smiling. “I really needed the pep talk.”
“Anytime. I gotta run now, but I liked hanging out with you.”
“Me too. It’s been a while since I’ve done the whole… girl talk thing.”
“Can’t imagine Mike being into that, no,” Dottie said, and Nancy laughed. “See you on Monday?”
“Yes. Monday. Good luck with Hellfire!”
“Good luck with Jonathan. Fight for your love, girl!” she declared dramatically while she sped away.
Nancy watched her go with a curious smile on her face. She’d have to keep an eye on Dorothy Burke from now on, but that could wait. It was Friday, Fred might be down for the count, and she had a newspaper edition to perfect before Monday morning.
Dottie had been to Family Video only twice since moving to Hawkins, once with her Dad and once with the boys, both times during a weekend. When Donny pulled into the parking lot that Friday night after Hellfire, she was fully expecting to see the same greasy dude that smelled like Cheetos she’d seen the last two times but saw instead a pretty tall girl that had her eyes glued to a black and white movie playing on the overhead TV. Gareth immediately ran to the horror section in search for the first part of their double feature, and Dottie approached the girl timidly while Donny smoked outside, waiting for Eddie and Jeff to arrive with warm pizza and fresh ice cream.
“Hi, welcome to Family Video, how can I help you?” the taller girl smiled with tired eyes, the kind you only got if you worked retail.
“Hi! I wanted to rent The Rocky Horror Picture Show if you have it?”
“Yeah, of course, follow me,” she said, lifting the counter and guiding her towards the Musicals section. Another boy was restocking shelves labeled as Comedy next to them.
“Hi there,” he said, waving a VHS case in the air.
“Hi,” Dottie said and turned to where the girl was moving movies around, a frown on her face. “Did someone else beat me to it?”
“No, no, I know it’s here… Just can’t figure out where I put it.”
“What are you looking for?” the boy said, coming to stand above the girl, craning his neck to see the stands.
“The Rocky Horror Picture Show. The cover’s a mouth with red lips.”
“Oh, yeah, I moved it to the Horror section,” he said, brows bunching in the middle.
“Why did you move it? It’s a musical, dingus.”
“How would I know? It says horror in the title!”
“God, you’re hopeless,” the girl shook her head, and Dottie snorted at their antics.
They bickered all the way to the Horror section, Gareth looking up with a confused expression at the scene in front of him. The tall girl moved around him with ease, finding instantly what she was looking for.
“Here you go, sorry about that,” she said, giving the VHS to Dottie.
“You picked a horror movie?” Gareth asked.
“No, it’s a musical.”
“We’re not watching a musical.”
“Why not? It’s really fun, it’s about-”
“Dot, we’re not watching lovey-dovey bullshit on movie night. Come on, pick something else.”
“No!” Dottie put her foot down. “Eddie said we both got one pick and we couldn’t complain about what the other person chose. Jeff hasn’t seen Rocky Horror and I want him to know where Hot Patootie comes from if he’s gonna be singing it for me every week!”
“It’s from a musical? Eddie said it was a Meatloaf song!”
“It is!” the tall girl interrupted with a bright smile. “Meatloaf plays Eddie in it, it’s his only song in the whole movie but it’s a classic.”
“You’ve seen it?” Dottie asked, eyes lighting up at the discovery of a kindred spirit.
“Y-yeah, it’s really good. I love how it constantly breaks the fourth wall, I mean, talking to the audience through a narrator must be one of the most well known resources in theater but it must be so fun to experience in the stage show-”
“Oh my god, yes!” Dottie interrupted her, turning her entire body to face her newest friend. “The stage show is so cool, I saw it twice at, like, the shittiest community theater ever but they killed it every single time. The material is just so good!”
“You saw it live? Where?”
“New York, I used to live there.”
“That’s so cool,” the girl said, her eyes wide.
“Okay, so maybe you two can have your own movie night and watch your girly musical together,” Gareth said, getting back to the topic. “-but we’re not gonna watch that tonight. Birthdays are for horror movies.”
“It says horror in the title, dude,” the other boy said, making Dottie chuckle. Gareth looked at her like she was betraying him.
“Come on, it’s really not bad. You’re gonna like it, I promise. There’s… there’s sex and boobies in it!”
A tense silence spread through Family Video, Dottie painfully aware that she had said something extremely weird in front of people she didn’t know. It was okay that she was using the tantalizing idea of breasts to lure Gareth into saying yes to her movie choice, but she didn’t need to make it so damn obvious she was excited about the prospect of seeing them too. The taller girl was staring at her with a wild blush spreading from her chest up to her ears, but perhaps the other boy’s reactions were much more disconcerting. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, stared at the back of his friend’s head, and then turned to Dottie with a huge grin on his face.
“If you don’t rent this movie, I will. We’re definitely watching it tonight, right, Rob?” he said, and the girl began giggling, her face in her hands.
“You’re such an idiot, Steve,” she gritted out through her laughter.
“Really, man, you’re a dumbass if you miss some boobs because you don’t wanna watch a musical with friends.”
“You’re gonna like it, G, I swear. It was made for the freaks,” Dottie insisted, sharing a grateful smile with the boy who was now known as Steve.
“Ugh, okay, fine! But if you’re picking a dumb musical, I can pick whatever I want and you can’t say no because you’re scared.”
“Those were the rules, we don’t complain about each other’s picks.”
“Not even if I pick The Exorcist?”
“Well… No, it’s- it’s okay. You can pick whatever you want,” she said, but looked very daunted by the idea.
“You sure?”
“She said yes, man,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips like a suburban dad. “Are you gonna rent these two or do you want one more? You can rent up to three every time.”
“Two’s okay, thank you, Steve,” Dottie said, grabbing The Exorcist off the shelf and taking both VHS cases to the counter.
The four of them moved to the main area and Steve busied himself checking them out, asking Gareth for his information to enter into the computer. Dottie was distracted while she looked at the small selection of candy they offered, the tall girl following her movement with her eyes. She knew she’d seen her before, probably at school but who was she? She mentioned she lived in New York…
“You’re Dorothy, right?” she said suddenly.
“How did you know?”
“People used to talk about you a lot back in January. Then you kinda dropped off everyone’s radar.”
“Yeah,” she grimaced. “Kinda joined the outcasts so…”
“I’m in band, I get it.”
“What do you play?”
“Trumpet. Been playing for twelve years.”
“Wow, that’s impressive,” Dottie said, thinking that she hadn’t done anything in her life with that kind of consistency. “It’s really nice to meet you, Robin.”
“Wha- oh. Oh! My tag!” Robin laughed at herself, looking down at the pins on her vest. “You know, I heard there’s a place in Indy where they do Rocky Horror showings once a month if you ever want to go. I don’t drive b-but I bet Steve can take us.”
“That sounds great, yeah! Is he cool with, y’know, nudity and stuff?”
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely! He doesn’t mind. He’s cool. Yeah, Steve’s… really cool.”
“Aw, you actually love me,” Steve said, giving away the fact that he’d been eavesdropping, and Robin hit him with a magazine.
“You two are really cute,” Dottie said, smiling at them. “How long have you been together?”
“We’re not-”
“Ew, that’s not-”
“We’re friends,” said Steve.
“Best friends,” added Robin.
“Strictly platonic.”
“With a capital P.”
“Oh. Well, I guess retail bonds you forever,” Dottie laughed, and Steve chuckled.
“You have no idea,” he said, looking over at Robin with a knowing expression.
“Okay, can you stop flirting with King Steve now? You’re grossing me out,” Gareth deadpanned, making Dottie frown.
“I’m not- I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”
“It’s cool. We’re all friends here,” Steve said. “Enjoy your movie night!”
“Thank you, bye! Bye, Robin,” she waved at the girl, who waved back before Dottie grabbed Gareth’s arm and pulled him towards the door. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Ow, you’re hurting me,” Gareth said, when she shoved him outside, Donny holding the door open for them.
“Don’t know what you did, but you probably deserved it,” he said, letting the door close behind them, muffling their voices from inside the store.
Steve and Robin watched them get into Donny’s car and pull out behind a beat up brown Chevy van, both vehicles disappearing down the road together. When the tail lights were no longer able to be seen, they turned to each other with curious expressions.
“Was she-” Robin asked.
“I think she was, yeah.”
“Huh.”
“What did I tell you?” Steve said, going back to where he had been restocking before all the commotion. “Boobies.”
“Stop saying boobies!”
When Dottie asked to sit next to him to watch The Exorcist, Eddie imagined a scenario where she’d be a little bit scared and seek him out for comfort. After all, cuddling on a couch wasn’t something they’d never done before, blurring the line between friendly touches and something more every day that went by. She suggested eating first, putting the movie in later, and no one complained about the request, eager to stuff their faces after a long day of school and extracurriculars on top. Jeff’s basement was a cozy hangout spot with a door that led to a side entrance, perfect for sneaking out for a smoke between his mother’s carefully manicured rose bushes. The tan carpet and wooden walls were welcoming, if not slightly tacky, and the space had been filled in with a big couch and two armchairs, a huge TV where Jeff’s dad liked to watch football, and a great sound system that had probably been top-of-the-line ten years prior. They gotten their fill of cheese and soda, Whitesnake and Black Sabbath playing in the background, and then retreated to their seats for the movie: Eddie, Dottie, and Jeff on the couch, Donny to Jeff’s left as far away from the TV as he could sit, and Gareth on the remaining Lay-Z-Boy to Eddie’s right, bowl of popcorn for himself on his lap.
As soon as the movie started, it was clear Eddie’s expectations had been sorely mistaken. Dottie started stiff as a board between the two boys, slowly sinking into the couch as the minutes ticked, head hidden behind her knees. Jeff had a bit of success in getting her to relax when he attempted to tell her every time it was safe to look up, but after a miscalculation of the length of a scene involving various medical procedures, her eyes never went beyond the coffee table again. Gareth and Donny’s constant commentary helped ease the uncomfortable air in the room, but it was clear to Eddie that Dottie was not enjoying this situation one bit. Forgoing any ideas of romance, he pulled her into his side, letting her bury her head into his shirt as she tried to ignore the sounds coming from the TV while Regan thrashed on a hospital bed calling for her mother.
Donny looked at Eddie pointedly during a quiet moment, but he pretended not to see it, choosing instead to rub big circles on Dottie’s back in an attempt to calm down her heart rate, beating wildly against the side of his chest like it was trying to get out of her body. Progressively through the 122 minutes that the movie lasted, she pressed more and more of herself against Eddie trying to shield herself from the horrors on the screen, and truthfully, if he hadn’t been so distracted trying to comfort her, he would have been terrified too. By the time Regan was gilding down the stairs on all fours, Jeff was covering half his face with a decorative pillow. When she began hurting herself with a crucifix, even Donny who had been somewhat unaffected until that moment let out a perturbed “Jesus Christ”. By the time the actual exorcism had began, Donny looked like he desperately needed a cig, Jeff was threatening to throw up if Regan threw up again, and Dottie was shaking so much that Eddie straight up manhandled her into his lap like a child and covered the ear that wasn’t pressed up against his chest with his own hand. Credits rolled, and Gareth was the only one that moved out of his chair to stretch and turn on the lights, face pallid when he saw the angry faces of his friends.
“Uh…”
“Are you fucking serious, Gareth?” Donny said in disbelief, knees cracking with the sudden movement of standing up after two hours. “That shit was so fucked up!”
“Please don’t fight,” Jeff said tiredly, letting his pillow drop to the floor.
“Oh, I’m fighting,” Donny doubled down. “Look at Dot! You know she hates horror movies and you get this one? Couldn’t you get fucking Gremlins instead?”
“It’s not that scary, it’s so obvious everything’s totally fake! You can see the tube stuck to her head when she throws up!”
“That was so fucking gross,” Jeff added, still looking a little green himself.
“It’s okay-” Dottie began, wiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her red cardigan, but Donny interrupted her again.
“This is what you were giving her shit for in the video store?”
“Okay, shit- I get it. I fucked up,” Gareth lifted his hands. “I honestly didn’t think it was that scary the first time I saw it.”
“Man, you need to see a shrink if that shit didn’t scare you,” Eddie said, no longer all cozied up to Dottie, but still keeping one arm around her for support.
“I’m sorry,” Gareth looked at Dot, who was the most affected out of his friends. “Didn’t mean to make you feel like ass for two hours. I thought we’d have fun with it.”
“You’re mean, and I hate you, but it’s okay,” she said, grumpily pouting but lifting her arms to ask him for a hug which he immediately gave her. “Just don’t do it again. And you have to go with me to the bathroom now because I’m gonna pee myself and I don’t wanna be in there alone.”
“I’ll hold your hand while you pee, you big wuss.”
Gareth and Dottie climbed up the stairs, him cracking the stupidest jokes to get her to relax while Jeff busied himself going to grab the ice cream so everyone could cool down before the second movie. Donny got his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and nodded at Eddie to follow him outside. They pressed their backs to the cold brick, the lights spilling out from the glass panel on the door illuminating their faces with warm yellow tones. They smoked for a few minutes in silence, looking out onto the fenced-in backyard.
“That shit was wild,” Donny said. "Can't believe they made a twelve-year-old pretend to stab her own pussy with a fucking cross."
"You think that actress was really 12?" Eddie mused.
"Well, she looked like it."
"Yeah, but... maybe she was like 16 and just looks really small? Dunno, but that was crazy. Was she really telling that priest to fuck that other priest?"
"Yeah," Donny chuckled, throwing a bit of ash to the ground. "Saw you, by the way."
"Saw me?"
"You two. Dottie sitting on your lap."
"Oh, fuck off," Eddie scoffed.
"I'm not saying anything weird was happening. Just that I saw you."
"She was terrified, man. Never seen her shake like that, and I've seen her scared before," the eldest said, bitterly.
"Yeah?"
"I'm telling you, I could feel her fucking heartbeat and that shit didn’t feel healthy. She's gonna sleep with her lights on for a week."
"Shit. Didn't realize it was that bad or I would have said something. Honestly thought she was playing it up a little bit, getting cozy with you."
"Nah, she's not like that."
"How do you know?" Eddie shrugged, and Donny narrowed his eyes. "What's been going with you two lately? You're like, attached at the hip."
Eddie took his time to answer, letting the smoke in his lungs leave his body slowly, savoring the peace and quiet of the Friday night. Donny had been his first friend in the group, and if anyone deserved honesty after showing him so much loyalty, it was him. Maybe he'd have valuable insight to share with him in return.
"I'm whipped, Don. That's what's going on," Eddie said.
"Tell me something I don't know, dude."
"Is it that obvious?"
"To me, yes. I don't think the others have noticed yet."
"Yeah, well, it's bad. Like really, really bad. Like I'm one more pout away from dropping on one knee and asking her to be the new Mrs. Munson bad."
"Jesus."
"Yup."
"So it's not just a crush? Are you, like, seriously in love with her?"
"I'm gonna go to prom and wear a tie for her. Take a wild fucking guess."
Donny stared at Eddie for a few seconds before smiling and shaking his head. The long haired boy lifted an eyebrow, questioning.
"Why haven't you asked her out yet?"
"I don't deserve her."
"Ed-"
"I just don't want to drag her down, y'know? She has all these plans, she’s gonna go to college, do cool stuff. I want to ask her when I have something real to offer. After graduation, once I get a job."
"Eddie, has it ever occurred to you that she really fucking likes you right now? You know, without all that extra shit?"
"I know she does."
"You do?" Donny looked at him like he'd grown two heads.
"I'm stupid, not blind. Dunno when she started to like me but yeah, I know she does."
"When did you figure it out?"
"We spent Mother's Day together."
"Oh."
"That's when I realized, damn, she must really like me to spend such a big day like this with me. And then her Dad gave me a manly talk so I just kinda put two and two together."
"Does she know you know?"
"I don't know if she even knows herself. She was telling me the other day that it's stupid boys and girls can't be friends without people reading too much into it. Maybe she’s in denial. I was.
“You were?”
“For like two days, yeah,” Eddie admitted.
"I'll ask Gareth about it. I bet he knows."
"You think?"
"They act like siblings all the time, if someone knows, it's him," Donny assured him, putting his cig out against the brick wall. "Hurry up though, she might get tired of waiting."
"Just a couple more weeks. Until I know if I graduate or not. It's the bare fucking minimum but she deserves it."
"Alright. I'm rooting for you, man. Go make me proud."
"Thanks, dude."
They returned to the basement after their smoke break, Donny giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder when they saw Dottie and Jeff back on the couch, heads together over a big tub of vanilla ice cream. Gareth was sitting on the floor in front of them scooping chocolate into a bowl that already had strawberry and vanilla in it. She was explaining the basics of the movie they were about to watch, warning them that things weren’t what they seemed and that it was about to get weird. Jeff looked terribly excited about the prospect of some lighthearted fun, and whatever talk Gareth and Dottie had had while they were in the bathroom (he’d apologized again while he stood in a corner, back to her and his eyes closed for good measure while she peed) had left him equally curious. The boy heard the words “boobs” and “murder” and decided he was all in for the experience.
Once everyone was back in their seats and had a cold treat in their hands to enjoy during the movie, lights went off and bright red lips filled the screen. Michael Rennie was ill the day the Earth stood still, but he told us… where we stand, Dottie mouthed following the lyrics, spoon resting on her lower lip. It was a complete 180 from the previous feature, her eyes now glued to the moving images, only rousing from her hypnosis to fill her spoon with more ice cream when Jeff prompted her to do so. She encouraged the boys to participate, instructing them to say “Janet” or “Oh, Brad” in a bored tone along with Riff Raff and Magenta during Dammit Janet or teaching them the steps to The Time Warp. Donny and Jeff, ever the performers, immediately jumped to action when Hot Patootie - Bless My Soul began, and Eddie twirled Dottie around proving himself to be quite the capable dancer when he put effort into it. Even Gareth got into the festivities when the pickaxe came out.
“Okay, that was awesome,” Jeff said while the credits were still rolling. “Didn’t know musicals could be, y’know, not Grease.”
“Take that back, Grease is legit,” Donny threatened him with his spoon.
“Less boobs than I was promised but still pretty good,” laughed Gareth, and Dottie chucked a pillow at his head.
“Looks like movie night is a success all thanks to Dot,” Eddie said, grinning at the girl that couldn’t sing for shit, but still knew all the lyrics to every beat of the musical. “Gareth, you’re banned from picking movies for a month.”
“I’ll take it,” he shrugged.
“Are there more musicals like this?” Jeff asked, and Eddie could see Dottie’s eyes glinting in the darkness.
“Well, there’s one about a demon barber…”
Eddie’s 20th birthday had been nothing like he was used to, but as he sat in Jeff’s brown-looking basement, his crush resting her weight against his shoulder as she animatedly explained to their friends the plot of Sweeney Tood: The Demon Barber of Fleet… Street, his spoon full of strawberry ice cream, and a pre-rolled joint in his backpack they were definitely going to sneakily smoke in the back of his van at some point during the night, he felt truly lucky for the first time in years. Everything was going to change for them in a few weeks, but Eddie really hoped that his 21st birthday would be as happy, if not more, as his 20th had been.
taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean
#bunny writes#small town fic#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x oc#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson#eddie munson x ofc#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#stranger things 4#gareth stranger things#jeff stranger things#wayne munson#nancy wheeler#steve harrington#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#joseph quinn#baby's first fic
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