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#the first one to reach out to the new kid and sit with them at lunch
peoples-problem · 3 days
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Ok, hear me out because my brain is going brrr
What if at some point Eddie does die (I sure hope he doesn't, of course, but follow me here) and Buck gets custody of Chris.
So everyone is grieving but Buck is taking it the hardest, he becomes more quiet and reserved, almost like Eddie at the beginning
Someone has to replace Eddie at the firehouse so there can be a provie or someone transfered from some other place, and Buck is not his usual self trying to make them feel welcome (he also won't give them the cold shoulder like he did to Eddie at the beginning, he is just indiferente, which the rest of the team comments is not usual in him but nobody explains them exactly what happen, leaving that story for Buck to tell) and one day there's one of those emergencies that have everyone checking on their relatives on their way to help solve things out (we haven't had a tornado yet, right? So maybe that?) and everyone is somewhat calm about it because they trust the adults in their lives outside the firehouse to take care of the kids and themselves. But Buck doesn't have that. He has Chris, in school. Chim checks on Maddie, and she and Jee are ok, so his main priority is to send a message to the school that is just not delivering.
So they are on the firetruck, Buck clenching to his phone, the rest of the team looking at him with some sort of pity and understanding, and the new guy is dumb enough to ask "Who you trying to get a hold of?" and everyone stops fucking breathing.
Buck takes a second, swallows the lump in his throat, and answers "My son. I'm trying to reach my son"
And the rest of the team knows what he is doing, how much this is taking from him, but the new guy doesn't so he keeps pushing "You got a kid?"
To this, Buck laughs almost wetly because it feels so much like a deja vu, but it's almost nice to relive this moment, almost like having Eddie sitting next to him again.
"Christopher. He is [age he might have]"
To have a little bit more of a heart break, they might also have this new person saying the "I love kids" phrase. Any other day Buck would have answered something along the lines of "Same" but that was before, now his answer would indubitably be, "I love this one, I'm all he's got" but to soften the impact of this heavy angst (or making it worse, depending on where you look at it) Chimney (bc brother-in-law) or Bobby (bc father figure, probably person Buck relies on if he ever loses Eddie because Bobby understands the feeling) would correct him with a "No you are not, we are all for him" and Hen will distract the new guy so they don't keep asking questions because now it's not the time and, maybe, Buck will come around at some point. Nobody wants to push him but they trust that he will.
And that's it, probably I'm not the first one to think about this, there might be even a whole fic about it that I'm not aware of, but I made myself cry writing so it's here for them not to go to waste.
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evcryopeneye · 2 years
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urhoneycombwitch · 5 months
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common tongue of you lovin' me
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🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut
🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader
wc: 2.5k 
content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
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foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
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By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 
________
guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 
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supernovasilence · 1 year
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Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too
They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.
They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.
It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.
(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)
Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.
Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)
Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)
Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)
Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah
Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.
But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.
Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.
"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.
Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.
(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)
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steddie-as-they-come · 7 months
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Eddie's hanging out in Family Video during Steve and Robin's shift, just being a general nuisance, when it begins.
The other two are talking in low voices in the back corner, discussing something Eddie can't hear. Normally he'd get up and go over there, insert himself into the conversation, command their attention, but he's too busy judgmentally rifling through Family Video's paltry horror movie supply to care that much.
He sneaks a glance over, and then he sees it.
Steve presses a kiss to Robin's forehead.
Eddie has to drop the tape he's holding before he does something stupid like break it out of jealousy.
And he knows, okay, he's heard it no less than eight million times, they're platonic with a capital P. That doesn't stop the little green monster in his chest from rearing its head.
It doesn't stop there, either. Eddie starts to see Steve kiss the rest of the Party. Simple little forehead kisses and temple kisses and kisses on the crowns of their heads, like he's their parent, which, well, he is. He does it when Dustin needs comfort. He slings an arm around Lucas and pulls him close for a kiss on the temple when Lucas makes a particularly good shot for basketball. He does it to Max, on one of her bad days. He even does it to Mike absentmindedly, who makes a feral screech like an angry cat before everyone starts to laugh at him. And of course, he and Robin are always all over each other.
But he won't kiss Eddie.
It's stupid that he expects it. They don't know each other. Steve's been with this group, been saving them from monsters and scientists and torturers for forever.
Eddie still wants in on it. If only to indulge his pathetic little crush on the former King of Hawkins High.
One night, Steve hosts a movie night, and Dustin invites Eddie along. He goes, because of course he does, and takes a seat on the end of the couch as Steve puts in the tape.
Eddie immediately forgets what the movie is, because Steve sits down next to him. His entire brain is a fuzzy kind of static that only intensifies when Steve scoots closer.
"Sorry," is the first word Eddie registers out of Steve's mouth, and he hastily tries to collect his thoughts. Steve moves closer, which doesn't help.
He peers around Steve and sees the kids all trying to squish onto the couch. "Scoot over, Eddie!" Mike shouts, and Eddie moves as close as he can to the arm of the couch. Steve follows, arm around him and thighs pressed close together.
Okay, then. Eddie can die happily tonight, apparently.
Something jumps at the screen, and Steve flinches.
Eddie learns a new thing about Steve that night. Apparently, when Steve gets frightened, he pulls everyone within reach towards him, like he's trying to shield them with his body. Eddie finds himself hugged to Steve's chest and has to employ breathing exercises to get rid of his new little...problem.
He somehow makes it through the movie without spontaneously combusting, a feat nothing short of a miracle. The kids run to the kitchen and Eddie can hear Dustin pick up the phone and say, "Hello, Paulie's Pizza?"
Steve sighs and gets up. "I did not say they could order pizza," he grumbles. He extends his hand to Eddie, and after a second of bewildered staring, Eddie manages to grab it and pull himself to standing.
Robin's sitting on the couch still (she had been on the other side of Steve), and she watches this interaction with an unreadable expression on her face.
Well, unreadable to Eddie, anyway. Steve and Robin proceed to have an entire conversation with just facial expressions, and Eddie is left in the dark about it.
Steve finally rolls his eyes and stalks into the kitchen. He distracts Dustin with a kiss on the top of his head, then steals the phone. "Hi, yeah," he says, and Eddie recognizes that voice as his King-Steve-takes-what-he-wants voice. "No, that's right. Two medium pepperoni pizzas and a side of garlic knots, yep."
He listens, then says, "I'll be over to pick it up," then places the phone back on the receiver with a click.
"I'm going to get the food." he announces to the room at large. "Eddie, you coming?"
"Sure?" Eddie slings his leather jacket from the back of one of the kitchen table chairs and slides his sneakers on.
The drive is quiet. Multiple times, it looks like Steve wants to say something, but he never does. When the two of them walk in to get the pizza, Steve grabs both boxes. "Can you get the door, Eds?"
Eddie wants to tease him about the new nickname, but he chooses not to, opting instead to nod and say, "Sure thing, Stevie." He pulls open the glass door and says, with a mock bow and a grand gesture, "Your majesty."
Steve rolls his eyes. "Thanks." He (finally!!) goes to kiss Eddie.
However, Eddie is not as short as the kids (and Robin) who Steve normally does this to. Eddie's pretty sure the kiss is supposed to land on his forehead.
It lands on his mouth.
Pretty shoddy kiss, as it were. Mostly, Steve kisses the corner of Eddie's mouth.
Both of their faces burn red. If not for Steve's sports-playing, monster-killing reflexes, the pizzas would be on the ground right now.
"Sorry!" Steve says, hurrying out to his car and tossing the food in the backseat. "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
Eddie slides into the passenger seat. "Finally!" he says.
"What?"
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Steve, I've been the only one who you haven't been bestowing kisses upon for weeks now. Sorry if I'm excited to be included in the group."
Steve starts the car. "But...those are all platonic kisses."
Eddie scoffs. "What, and kissing me wouldn't be?"
Steve is silent.
"REALLY?" Eddie yells. "Wait, wait-" He leans over the center console. "Steve Harrington, if you wanted a kiss, a romantic kiss, you could have told me before cuddling with me all night!"
Steve sighs. "Fine. Eddie Munson, I'm going to kiss you romantically."
And he leans in.
Eddie's obsessed with the curve and dip of Steve's mouth against his. He greedily cups his hand against Steve's face, his other hand propped up against the center console. Steve tastes like the soda he was drinking earlier, mixed with something richer and deeper that's wholly, entirely Steve.
They break apart at a small crackle from Steve's inner pocket.
"Henderson," Steve says exasperatedly. "That kid is so damn impatient."
"Steve!" Dustin's voice comes from the walkie Steve pulls out. "Have you gotten the pizza yet?"
"Yes, you little shit, we're coming back now." Steve sighs. "Oh! Henderson, find Robin. Tell her it happened."
Eddie shoots Steve a confused look, but Steve just holds up a placating hand, a slight smile on his face.
"OH MY GOD STEVE!" comes Robin's voice on the walkie. "HELL YEAH!"
Steve cackles and leans back in to kiss Eddie, who happily accepts.
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axeoverblade · 11 months
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Classmate
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PART ONE (CURRENT); PART TWO ; PART THREE
Earth 42! Miles Morales x fem! reader
Synopsis! For the life of you , you couldn’t understand why Miles had it out to get you so bad. If it wasn’t for the mid-year seat change, he wouldn’t have even acknowledged your existence.
MASTERLIST
Genre: light fluff, enemies to lovers like trope, light bully!Miles
Warnings: mentions of sa (nothing happens just mentioned), mentions of violence, maybe foul language but I think that’s it enjoy!
word count: 5k
Authors comment: I keep seeing School themed hcs and I had to say me sphewl(?), planned to be one shot but thinking about a part two. Sorry for any bad translations my Spanish is meh, please leave a like <3
Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade
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It was known half way through the school year at Visions Academy the teachers changed the assigned seats. Being in your last hour, you were pretty much comfortable sitting next to almost anyone in the class.
Albeit, you did have a few in your mind you would rather not be sat with. Kids who didn’t like to do the group work, kids who talked too much, kids who always were trying to copy answers, etc.
The teacher went through the neatly organized desks column by column, starting on the left side closest to the door for the new seating chart. There were only four columns seeing as the wooden desks were double seated. You listened as she went through assigning kids to chairs, finally reaching the last column. There were about seven other kids along with you still waiting to be called to the four desks available. All the kids left were somewhat iffy options to be next to for the rest of the year.
Only you and three others were left. She called out to the second to last desk, “Amanda and John”. You sigh a breath of relief happy to not be sat next to John who had a crush on you, your thoughts replaying all the times he had tried to get with you. Feelings were not mutual. “ And Finally Y/n and Miles.”
You walked over to the seat from the front of the room, seeing the Miles kid already getting comfortable in his new seat closest to the wall.
You never had the chance to talk to Miles much. Actually, you don’t think you’ve ever talked to him. He was very reticent in the classroom. The moment he finished his work which was always relatively quick, he was out of the class leaving a few minutes to spare coming back before the bell rang.
There was a reason you never made an effort to talk to Miles. In fact, it was more like you endeavored to avoid him. His hedonistic friend group were known for being-, uncivil. They treated others horribly, always making someone do something that would make your stomach churn if you had to be the one to do it. And even though Miles was known to never actively participate in those things, anyone who hung around people who did those things were bound to start someday.
What confused you though, he was extremely smart unlike the jerks he was always with. You heard he was one of the highest scoring kids, every report card stamped with straight As. That wasn’t much at this school, almost everyone had straight As and high Bs, but all his grades averaged above 94.
There was also no denying he was very attractive. Surprisingly he was never seen with anyone romantically, unlike his friends who always had a girl or two under their arms. There were definitely people were lined up at his feet though, always trying to cling to him. He always just brushed them off, sometimes blunter than he needed to be.
You had seen it once, a girl you hadn’t really liked had gone up to him during passing period asking for his number only for him to look at her and walk right past her. All his friends and their shallow twats of girlfriends laughed at her, walking with Miles past her.
She cried in bathroom for forty minutes after.
You stood next to your seat, putting your bag down. “Hi I’m y/n” you said, formally introducing yourself to Miles for the first time. He looked up to you from his phone. You watched as he took his time studying you, making you slightly flustered as his eyes roamed your body. He looked back down at his phone, disregarding your presence. “I know.”
You blinked a few times processing the abrupt rudeness.
You rolled your eyes and whispered a few choice words to yourself about the interaction as you sat down, realizing you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year.
You pulled out your phone, texting your friend and roommate Mei, who was across the room, about how rude Miles was. She looked up, seeing you staring at her irritated. She giggled before texting back.
Mei: He so fine tho 😍 ask em if he needs a dog
You: Mei 💀
You: he’s so rude n for what? Like he could’ve just nodded or said his name. I know he got that whole “bad boy” thing goin but ain’t have to do allat
Mei: Ion know gl tho 💯
You: Ur no help 😭 Ima ask for a seat change
Mei: It's the first five minutes you have sat next to each other, maybe he is just nervous from ur emmense beauty 😩 I know I would be
Mei: PLUS u know Ms Reita does not b swappin seats. You know how many times I asked to be moved from Jessica only for her to say tuff luck and move on? Seventeen times. Just give it time n maybe it gets better you never know
You: 😐
You shook your head and put your phone down as the teacher started passing out the work. It was a normal worksheet due by the end of class. You went through, solving the easier problems before going back and finishing the ones you skipped.
You were on your last problem when Miles hand shot up lazily. Ms.Reita looked at him and sighed, knowing that he was going to leave for almost the rest of class period if she let him leave the room. “Is your worksheet finished?” “I wouldn’t be raisin’ my hand if it wasn’t.” “Watch it Morales, wouldn’t want to have to tell your Mom you have detention would you?” He sighed before mockingly smiling “sorry Ms.Reita, can I so humbly excuse myself?” He batted his eyelashes for extra effect, clearly tired of the interaction and ready to leave. She huffed as pointed to the door. You snickered to yourself watching the exchange. He looked at you, a glint of amusement washing over his eyes, but the look left as soon as it appeared. He looked away getting up and walking out.
_
You walked with Mei back to your shared dorm, talking about the nonsense that flooded your minds. Luckily for you, it was Friday and you could go home tonight, you just had to go grab your bag and you would be free from this hell hole.
“Alright Mei I’ll see you on Monday” you said, grabbing your suitcase and backpack, pulling it with you to leave. She smiled and waved, still packing. “Bye baby mama” you rolled your eyes playfully at what she said. She would constantly make jokes about how she could care for you and be your sugar momma, even though she was just as broke as you were.
You walked toward the lobby of the school, seeing the exit to the building so close. It felt like knowing air was near when you were drowning, finally being able to catch a break and breathe- “oh sorry baby girl, didn’t see you there.” You felt someone bump into you, too intentional for it to be accident. You cringed at the nickname and gathered yourself. Luckily you hadn’t fallen, just stumbled causing your bag to fall off you. “Don’t call me that John.” You said, picking up your bag and slinging it in on your shoulder. “You know you like it” he said, closer than he needed to be. Recoiling at the sound of him so close to your ear, you stuck your hand out and lightly pushed him further from you. “I really don’t, I already told you I want nothin’ to do with you.” You continued to walk to the exit, only for him to walk beside you. “Cmon baby I can show you the world, stop playing hard to get.” You looked at him, stopping in your tracks, “I’m not playing hard to get, this is me playing I don’t want you” “so you admit you're playing about not wanting me?” He said, smirking. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, just wanting to go home. “For the final time John, I am not interested.” You walked again, this time he didn’t follow because his friends were walking up to him. “I’ll see you on Monday baby!” He called out loudly, drawing attention to the both of you. You scowled and walked faster out the building, happy to not have to see John for a few days.
Unbeknownst to you, Miles was watching the interaction from the beginning, ignoring his friends talk about the girls that passed or the sexist comments they made. He noted how you reacted to John, how much disgust surged through your body language. He disliked John, but for separate reasons. John was one of those guys. Class A jock who didn’t know when to quit. Also didn’t know when to shut their mouths. Granted, those were the exact people he hung around. But at least he could tolerate their idiocy, and it was better than walking around the school alone all day. Only kid he hung around that wasn’t like that was his roommate Ganke.
He watched as you scowled and left the school. He shrugged minding his own business, zoning back into the conversation about who had the biggest boobs.
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Monday rolled around quicker than you could’ve imagined. And it felt like a Monday, which never helped. You trudged into your last hour groggily, just wanting to be done with the day so you could go back to your dorm and sleep. Walking over to your seat, you looked at Mei across the room. She wiggled her eyebrows, mouthing for you to initiate conversation with Miles. You rolled your eyes, sitting down. Miles was sketching lightly on the worksheet already passed out on the desks. You tried to look at it, but the braid that draped over his shoulder covered your view. You didn’t want to seem invasive, so you just grabbed your sheet and began working.
Finishing the sheet quickly, you got on your phone, scrolling through your socials. You saw a news alert flash across the top of your screen, some message about “the prowler striking again” over the weekend. You swiped it away.
You didn’t hate the prowler in all honesty, but you would never admit that out loud. Whoever was under the mask did bad things, but usually only to bad people. Usually.
The police barely did anything anymore, making it hard to even go outside without getting mugged or groped or something bad. With the prowler being out and about, some idiots have been scared off the streets, enough to where you could at least walk to and from your family apartment to school. In your eyes, the vigilante kinda helped a little.
“Stop tapping, its annoyin” a voice rudely interrupted you from your thoughts. You looked over to see miles looking at you, semi-irritated. You hadn’t realized you were tapping the desk, something you did unconsciously when you were lost in your own mind. You pulled your hand back, putting it on your thigh, “my fault, ain need all that attitude though” you said looking at him. He rolled his eyes and started drawing again. “Whatcha’ sketching?” You asked, leaning towards him slightly. He looked at you with furrowed brows, blinking a couple of times, before going back to sketching ignoring your question. El tiene algunos nervios. Instead of just excusing his behavior like you did on Friday, you opted to invade his personal space; moving his braid, your head now hovering over his shoulder. He moved his body quickly, his reflexes faster than you could process. “Qué coño estás haciendo?” He said sternly, but you didn’t budge. “You didnt wanna respond” you said not looking at him, more focused on the drawing. “That ain’ answer my question” he said, you could feel the irritation laced in his voice, but instead of leaving him alone like he wanted, you grabbed the paper to get a better view. The drawing was a well portrayed mask of sorts, oddly similar to the prowlers, and a few weapons all sketched on the back of his paper. You raised your eyebrow at the drawing. He was actually really good at drawing, the detail for him to have started that less than twenty minutes ago impressed you. He snatched the paper back. You turned your head to him, seeing him looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, getting ready to say something. “Answer me next time and I won’t have to do that” you said before he could speak, a mocking smile laying on your lips. He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath before going back to sketching.
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One word, Regret.
You really wish you hadn’t decided to let you imaginary balls get the best of you. Because now Miles how a personal vendetta against you. Damn your pride. Within the span of few weeks he somehow had broken into your locker and trashed you books, he made sure it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t fix easily though, just a few torn pages. He constantly would shove you, which he mude sure to do lightly to not actually hurt you, into the lockers when he passed you in the nearly empty halls when he was with his friends. He would say the most outlandish things to you whenever you passed him when the halls were too crowded and others could see what he did. He made sure his friends didn’t mess with you though, knowing they would take it way too far how they had with the other kids they harassed. And even though you tried to ignore him the first few weeks hoping he would stop, he never did. You swore you could feel yourself loosing your mind.
Miles had only originally planned on pestering you for a day or two to get the point across that you should’ve left him alone, but then he realized how fun it was to provoke you. You became his entertainment, or at least that was the reason that he told himself he went out of his way to annoy you. And now that he had gotten on your last nerve, you were like a ticking time bomb every time.
You made school easier for him, giving him something to look forward to. Your reactions were always so animated, almost comical, making messing with you so funny. He didn’t just mess with you in sense of picking on you., he would mess with you feelings too. He looked for you in the halls just to go behind you and pull you by your backpack into him. You would lose your balance then he would put his hands on you waist to stabilize you, whispering in your the cusp of your ear sternly to “watch where you’re going mami”, a nickname he now would often call you just to see how irritated and flustered you would get. You would always reply with a snarky remark, something along the lines of “he pulled you into him”, always stuttering through the sentence no matter the amount of times he had done this to you, siempre fue tan mono a él. Something that unintentionally brought his face to a smirk was how you never mentioned anything about the nicknames he gave you like you did with John.
His friends would constantly make comments about how Miles liked you and now you were off limits, but every time he shot the idea down with a quick annoyed face. But perish the thought one of his friends gets talks about you the wrong way. They had seen the way Miles looked at the guy who had walked up to and called you pretty. Didn’t ask for your number, didn’t do anything weird, just called you pretty. The problem wasn’t even the compliment, it was how genuinely big you smiled but it wasn’t because of him.
Miles wasn’t going to deny he found you attractive. He had seen you the first day he walked into Vision academy a year ago and couldn’t get you out of his head for week. Hell you were probably the prettiest girl in the school, but maldito eres molestosa. When laying on the bed in his dorm room the nights he wasn’t out doing his prowler work, he could hear your pesky voice ringing in his ears, también pudo ver tu cara hermosa. He hated it. He hated how sometimes your face would pop up in his brain during a mission, and it would make him falter for a moment. Something as simple as hesitating, even for a millisecond, could’ve had him killed mid fight.
He didn’t actually care for you, at least that’s what he told himself. So you can understand why it bothered him so much that he hated weekends now, knowing it was extra days where he couldn’t see you, feel you. Even if it was just a brush on the shoulder when doing partner work, or him shoving you lightly when walking past, glaring at you like you were the one that bumped into him.
It annoyed you to no end you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year. What annoyed you even more was how attracted you were to him. He was so dismissive toward you, and for some reason you would sit in your room giggling with Mei about how his laugh, even though the only reason you had heard it was because he was making fun of you, was the most attractive thing you have ever heard.
Luckily today was Friday so you could enjoy the weekend.
It had been a few months since you had been moved next to Miles, a few months since you decided to overstep a boundary you wish you hadn’t, a few months since you’ve been slowly loosing your sanity. Miles had taken it upon himself to mess with you in class, staying for almost the whole period now a days to do just that.
“If you would finish your work then we could be done already” you mumbled under your breath, looking at the shared work you had to do that Miles hadn’t even looked at, too engrossed in his phone. The two of you had been going back and forth since the start of class, now only roughly fifteen minutes left. He looked up to you, squinting from annoyance, “do you ever just, I don’t know, close your mouth?”. You rolled your eyes “If you, I don’t know, finish your half so I can go turn this in then yea maybe I would.” He scoffed, pulling the paper closer to him. A few minutes passed and he slid the paper over to you “don’t say anything else”. You looked at the paper, seeing he had completed his half of the work in record time, you must really annoy him. “Well if you just did that earlier” you said sarcastically, picking up the paper and walking over to the turn in bin, placing the paper in it.
As you walked back to your seat, John started to talk to you. You pursed your lips, walking past him heading to your seat behind him. That didn’t stop him, as all he did was turn his chair around to face you. “So the party is tonight, you can come-” he paused, putting emphasis on the word winking at you, hinting at something else. You looked at him disgusted. “And we can have a lot of fun, perfect chance for you to see how much you truly like me.” You blinked a few times, “yea no” was all you said before looking at your phone. You didn’t fail to hear the small, quiet breathy laugh that fell from Miles lips as he stared at his phone, overhearing the conversation. His laugh alone could make your knees buckle. You quickly brought yourself back to reality, not letting your mind flow with any positive thoughts about Miles. “Cmon’ baby, promise I’ll show you a good time.” “Ain’ I tell you not to call me that?” You said, annoyed that John just couldn’t leave you alone. “You know we locked in, you keep playin.” “John-” “aight hear me out, you come to the party, if you don’t have a nice time -which I can guarantee you will- I’ll leave you alone, how does that sound?” “You’ll leave me alone?” You said, intrigued by the offer. “If you come.” You sighed, “lemme ask my momma.” He smiled widely, happy to have finally convinced you. Miles secretly looked between the two of you with his eyebrows furrowed, thinking how pathetic John was.
A few minutes passed as John sat facing you, waiting for a response. You sighed, causing him to perk up. “I need to be home by 11, and you have to send me the address. My mom also needs your number and your mommas number, comprende?” He nodded quickly, typing all the information into your phone so you could send it to your mom. You sent the message, already regretting your decision.
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Sure enough.
You sped walk home, the time nearing 10:45. Wiping the tear that trickled down your cheek, you scoffed. The party started off great, you and John had a great time, initially.
Then things got weird, he tried to take you to a bedroom upstairs, you declined, him being intoxicated, grabbed you forcefully to take you up. You were glad you were taught basic self defense. You kneed him in the bolas and grabbed your bag, quickly leaving. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had dranken something, where you wouldn’t have been fully aware of your surroundings. You hurrying to dismiss the thought, happy to be out the party
Normally you would be much more aware of the world around you, had you not been so lost in your thoughts. “Hey there pretty lady” you heard, you couldn’t catch a break tonight. You started walking quicker, almost jogging with your eyes focused ahead of you, as you just wanted to get home safely. “You ain’t hear us talkin to you?” Your eyes widened at the mention of us, realizing there was more than one. You searched for your switch blade that would usually be inside your pocket, but it was no where to be found. You figured it must’ve fallen out at the party, you silently cursed to yourself. Three men were now matching your speed, and suddenly were next to you.
“What’s a little momma like you doing out here all alone, don’t you know there’s bad guys out here?”
“Don’t worry baby, we’ll keep you safe”, they grabbed you forcefully covering your mouth so you wouldn’t alert anyone, not like anyone would help. They pulled you to the nearest alley. You bit the hand of whoever was covering your mouth, causing them to let go of your face. You took this as an opportunity to scream for dear life, only to be smacked into a state of drowsiness. You quickly shook yourself out of it, feeling the stinging sensation spread across your face. Your ear was ringing lightly, and you could’ve sworn this dude knocked your tooth loose. You spit at the guy across from you, seeing bloody saliva land on his face. The guy behind you who was holding you let go and moved to the side. Before you could react to the new found freedom, you were pushed roughly into the wall behind you. “Tonto puta, all you had to do was cooperate” the guy in front of you said, wiping the spit off his face.
Ready to accept whatever was going to happen, you closed your eyes and scrunched your face, only to hear screams of pain from the three men, followed by an uncanny silence.
You opened your eyes, seeing the prowler standing where the man in front of you once was with a bloody claw. The three men were laying on the ground, damn near lifeless. Your eyes widened, your mouth parting from the sight. The vigilante stared at you, you could see the eye like symbols displayed on the mask slightly widened at the sight of the hand-mark on your face before recomposing into a stoic, neutral setting. You were too shocked, and mostly scared to say anything.
The figure got closer, to which you could work out was a male. You took note of the two braids cascading down their neck behind the mask, as well as the oddly clean Jordan’s they sported. You didn’t have much time to take in their lanky appearance, as they took a final step towards you, making it so you had to look up at their mask. Their presence loomed over you eerily. You gaped at him, your pleading eyes filled with fear. You knew he wasn’t necessarily a villain per say, closer to the flip side if anything. He did just save you. But the thought of an individual being so much more powerful than you, knowing that at any moment he would always in control no matter what you did, threw your brain into a constant state of unease. Feeling your heart beating out your chest, you raised your hands lightly placing it on their chest to stop them from getting any closer, even though you knew they could easily overpower you no matter what you did. His heartbeat was slow, almost calming to feel. “Please” you whispered, voice barely leaving your larynx.
As quickly as he had come he left. You looked around, finally spotting him lurking on top of the building across from you, crouching along the ledge looking at you. You looked at the Prowler one last time, making eye contact with their mask silently mouthing a ‘thank you’. He flipped away to wherever else he goes, not acknowledging your gratitude. You nearly collapsed, sliding down the wall. Your hands aggressively wiped your face before meeting your hairline, resting there as you breathed ruggedly. The adrenaline you had was wearing off, and the bruises the men left you with became more prominent on your skin, as well as more painful. At least your opinion about the prowler was correct, he was a good guy after all, to you at least.
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Returning to school on Monday was a catastrophe, news spread like wildfire about you being attacked by the three men, as well as your encounter with the Prowler. Random people were approaching you asking what is what like and other random questions revolving around your attack. No one however, was talking about what happened at the party. But you couldn’t blame them, not many people saw what had happened.
It was finally the last period. You wanted nothing more for this to blow over, and for you to be done with the day back in your dorm. You walked in, wavering slightly seeing John leaning on your desk. You noticed Miles sitting in his seat on his phone, eye bags deeper than usual.
You quickly sat down, trying your best to ignore John's attempts to talk to you.
“Y/n please it was an accident-”
You ignored him getting your pencil out of the top zipper of your bag.
“Y/n please just listen I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing you gotta believe me” he leaned toward to take your hand, causing you to flinch and pull back. You looked at him angrily “you think being drunk excuses anything?” Your voice was calm and almost at a whisper despite how you felt, trying your best to draw the least amount of attention. He sighed desperately, “No it doesn’t but you gotta see it from my perspective-” “what perspective John?!? The one where you tried to force yourself on me? Or the one where you tried to take me upstairs against my will? I swear if you come near me again, I won’t hesitate to cut your polla off, comprende?” Ms. Reita asked everyone to take their seats, causing John to look at you solemnly before scoffing and turning to his seat.
You huffed, putting your head between your crossed arms on the table. “What happened at the party?” You looked over to Miles surprised. You hadn’t expected him to ask you any questions, but if he did you figured it would be something about the prowler incident. “Nothin’.” You said dismissively. He looked at you skeptically. Before you could even react, he grabbed your phone off the desk and tucked it in his pocket. “You ain’ gettin’ it back til you tell me what happened.” “Why do you care so much?” “Your wrinkles n’ dark circles look worse than usual, wanna know why.” “Could say the same for you” he looked at you blankly. You sighed, “John got a lil’ too handsy is all, don’t worry ‘bout it. Can I have my phone back-“ “mami, how handsy?” His stern voice caught you off guard. He looked at John's direction for a split second, you could’ve sworn you’d seen Miles look at John with a look of determined death. He looked back at you eyebrows furrowed, “he tried to take me upstairs n’ I wasn’t feelin’ it, so he tried to make me” you uttered, a little quieter towards the end of your sentence. “Left before he could do anything” you finished, “can I get my phone back now?” You looked at him tiredly. He let out a simple huh and gave you your phone back, his full attention now on johns figure ahead in the seat diagonally ahead of him.
The class had been dismissed, luckily Miles had decided to leave you alone today, you were too tired to deal with his antics anyway. Walking over to Mei dismissing John's stare, you two began walking out of the class heading to the lobby so you head back to your dorm room. As you were walking back Mei stopped at a vending machine to get a couple snacks for the dorm so you two could have a movie night. You waited as she inserted her money, clicking which snacks you both liked to buy them. As she was stuffing the snacks in her bag zipping it up, a student screamed “FIGHT”. You looked over seeing a crowd forming and walked over to see what was happening. Bullying your way to the front you saw Miles on top of John, pounding John's blood stricken face damn near permanently into the floor. Your eyes enlarged at the sight. Miles was clearly irate, and from the looks of it, had no plans of stopping. A security guard quickly ran in and grabbed miles off John's limp body. Miles spit at John, yelling something at him in Spanish that you couldn’t hear over the commotion. You looked at John's body, seeing him look almost unconscious as he coughed violently and rested on his elbows, trying to catch his breath. You gaped at Miles, shock written all over your face. His chest rose and fell quickly as he looked around the room seeing all the people watching. His eyes stopped as they met yours, his gaze softening slightly before he looked away. A huff fell from his lips as he was dragged to the principal's office. He jerked his arm away, muttering something about how he knew how to walk.
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John had to be sent to the hospital.
Miles was in the principal's office, sitting silently as John's parents screamed at the principal while Miles’s mother sat next to him upset. “My child is a great kid! And how is he supposed to feel safe in this school anymore knowing this can happen again, huh?” John's mom spewed mindlessly, ranting about how she was going to press charges. Miles scoffed, causing Rio to look at him with a look of “watch your mouth before I watch it for you.” He just looked down at his hands in his lap.
Miles walked out of the classroom to head back to his shared dorm. He couldn’t get out of his mind what John had done to you. As vague as your response was, he knew more had happened between you and John. He didn’t know why it bothered him so deeply, it wasn't even really his business. He knew the thought of someone being touched like that made him upset, but he felt pure outrage from this specifically, and he knew deep in his heart it was because it was because it was you who had gone through it.
As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he felt something different for you when he intervened the night the three men attacked you. He almost added three bodies to his belt, for you.
Usually, as bad as it sounds, he would mostly let people get robbed or thrown around in alleyways. He would help occasionally if it sounded gruesome or of dire need for assistance. But he had to save his city from the sinister six, and petty crimes that were bound to happened weren’t the ideal way to do that. But the voice screaming sounded familiar, kinda sounded like you. The thought of you being in danger offset his nerves, and he knew a you were going to a party that night so he went, just to check.
Sure enough.
He stalked you from above the rest of your walk home just to make sure nothing else happened.
He walked into the lobby consumed by his own thoughts, snapping back to reality as he overheard John talking to his friends about how “y/n finally let me hit, she was so tight-”. He paused in his tracks. Ain’ no way acaba de escuchar lo que pensó que hizo. He turned to the direction of John's voice, this was now his business. He walked over, becoming increasingly irate the more John talked about “how much you loved it”. John turned, hearing footsteps approaching alarming quickly. He saw Miles, John knew Miles had heard about what really happened at the party. John scoffed, somewhat anxious he had been caught in his lie and afraid Miles would try to embarrass him in front of his friends. He quickly spoke before Miles even had the chance to say a word,“You ain’ needed here Miles-” John was cut off by a fist colliding with his face, not what he was expecting at all. Johns friends gasped or yelled in shock, Miles didn’t stop though. Miles didn’t even say anything, small grunts of anger being the only thing leaving his lips as John hit the floor. Miles siguan latiendo la mierda fuera de él.
“What you won't even speak huh?” John's mom said, facing Miles. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “You wanna send my baby boy to the hospital and have no reason why? Why are you picking on my kid huh? You-” “You think your kid is the best thing on Gods green earth”Miles scoffed, cutting her off. “Cause he is, my kid wouldn’t hurt a fly and you-”“your oh so wonderful kid tried to rape a girl then went around yappin’ bout’ how much she enjoyed it.” The room fell silent. The principal eyes went wide, “Uh-Uhm, how about we resume this tommorow-” “well hold on,” Rio spoke for the first time, “My son intervened and helped someone in danger because their son was making girls unsafe in the school? Why is he being punished?” “Well Mrs.Morales we didn’t know that happened-” “so you immediately assumed my son was the cause of this not even getting evidence before?” “Well he did start-” “uhn-uh, their child is making the school more unsafe than Miles ever did. Why aren’t they being scolded for this?”
The principal apologized, saying Miles would be suspended for the rest of the week for starting the fight, but no charges could be pressed to avoid anybody getting into serious trouble.
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Miles sat in the passenger seat of his moms car, the leather caressing his skin as he looked out the window. A hushed silence had fallen over the two a while ago. Silence is always worse than actually being screamed at, the anticipation is always so suffocating. “So.. who’s the girl?” His mom said, looking at the road ahead. Miles glanced at her before looking back out the window, “classmate.” She nodded, humming. Rio knew her son, and she knew Miles wouldn’t damn near end a kids life just just for some classmate.
“Ella tiene un nombre?” He sighed lightly, “Y/n.” Rio nodded and hummed again, looking at miles through the corner of her eye. “At some point throughout the week, I expect her over for dinner.” “I don’t even have her number, how is she supposed to know” Rio clicked her teeth and smirked,
“Encontrarás una manera”.
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©axeoverblade
5K notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 26 days
Text
TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions
Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.
You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.
Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.
He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.
There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.
The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."
And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.
"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.
The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.
The world around him falls away at the touch.
---
He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.
---
They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--
He wants to kiss Eddie.
So, he does.
It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.
---
Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.
He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.
She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.
He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.
Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.
---
He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.
He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.
"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"
He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.
"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."
Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.
"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."
"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.
His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.
Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--
"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"
Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.
---
He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.
A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.
He's pretty sure he has a concussion.
"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.
Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.
"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"
Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.
---
They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.
Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.
They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.
He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.
In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.
---
He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.
"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"
Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.
They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.
"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.
"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.
---
Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--
"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."
Eddie stays limp in his arms.
"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."
The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.
"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.
"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."
Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."
He goes still in Steve's hold.
---
The images come faster now--
A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence
Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there
Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize
Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him
Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face
In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head
In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect
---
The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.
Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.
Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.
"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"
Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.
The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.
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steddiealltheway · 5 months
Text
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3
Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.
Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.
He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.
And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.
Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.
Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.
The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.
There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”
Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”
“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”
Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”
“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”
The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.
“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.
Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.
"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.
El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.
Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.
Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...
"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."
Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.
"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."
Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.
"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.
"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.
Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."
Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"
Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."
"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."
"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."
Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.
"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"
Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."
"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.
Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."
Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."
Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.
"Like who?"
Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."
"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.
"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.
Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"
Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."
Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."
"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."
"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"
Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.
Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.
With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."
"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.
Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Steve stares at the little list in the note.
One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa
Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"
Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.
Steve's heart pounds in his chest.
Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.
"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.
Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"
Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."
The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"
"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.
"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.
"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."
"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.
Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."
"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.
Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.
Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"
Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"
Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."
Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"
Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."
"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."
Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.
Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.
When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"
Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.
"So, where are the shoes?"
"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.
Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"
Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.
"Why?" Eddie asks.
Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."
Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.
Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.
Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.
Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."
It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.
"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."
Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."
Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.
Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.
"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."
Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."
"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"
Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."
Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."
"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."
Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.
"What do you think?" Eddie asks.
Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."
"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.
-:-:-:-:-:-
"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."
Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."
Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."
Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."
Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."
They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.
The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.
"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.
Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"
"Hell yes," Eddie replies.
They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.
Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."
"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.
And it really is a merry Christmas.
2K notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 1 month
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filling the void (5) II a.putellas x sister!reader
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prequel one two three four
warning for just like...a lot of angst? but also, some more steps forward and a little comfort filling the void (5) II a.putellas x sister!reader
"because the last time someone i loved when into hospital, he never came back."
after hearing that alexia's blood ran cold and she stepped away, wanting to give you a little privacy as her ears burned from already having heard too much.
she settled herself on the lounge trying to focus on finding something to watch, pretending like she wasn't fighting every temptation to grab you and pull you into a hug and never ever let go again.
a short while later you returned, alexia glancing at you and trying not to notice the obvious tear tracks on your face as you mumbled something about using the bathroom and darted away.
washing your face you spared no time going through your usual skin care routine, trying to shake the piercing anxiety in the back your head about your mami and her condition.
you padded into your room and with the weather taking an oddly cool turn tonight you rummaged around your wardrobe looking for your favourite hoodie.
you let out a squeal as you tugged at something and suddenly a bag tumbled down onto your head. swearing under your breath you bent down to repack its contents, making a mental note that you needed to donate the old clothes inside you'd had sitting there for far too long.
but it was something entirely unexpected that had your breath catching, having forgotten about it all together since you'd stuffed it into the bag intending to donate it alongside your clothing you'd grown out of.
you sat cross legged on the floor holding it in your hands, staring at it as memories flooded your mind and you were so caught up in them you didn't even hear alexia call out to check you were okay after hearing the thump of the bag falling.
when you didn't respond she came to check on you, her head peering around your doorway and curious hazel eyes softening as they found you. calling out again you didn't hear her, only becoming somewhat aware of your sisters presence as she carefully took a seat beside you, not too close but still enough that you knew she was there.
seeing the turmoil of emotions flashing through your eyes as you stared at it in your hands once again alexia wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a bone crushing hug and never let you go again, determined to protect you from the world and all the pain that came with it.
but the warnings of both her mami and her girlfriend echoed in her mind and she ignored the itching in her hands to reach for you, knowing that especially now more than ever she needed to let you come to her.
her own eyes falling on the object clutched tightly in your hands brought forth an entire sea of unique memories and emotions for your sister, at first taking her back to a time in which you needed her and she needed you just as much if not more.
and when you'd all lost him was a feeling that no amount of time passed would ever make alexia forget.
she'd been stood at his bed with alba by her side, holding his hand and telling him about the match she'd played that afternoon and the goal she'd scored and dedicated to him.
he'd smiled tiredly but barely had the energy to hold his eyes open let alone speak, and neither alexia or alba could stand the silence so they made sure never to allow it to grow, filling every quiet pocket with a new story or comment.
eli was sat in the chair on his other side, hand settled on his head and a watchful eye on a much younger you who was sat on the floor playing with a handful of matchbox cars, the small pieces of metal some of the only reminders you'd have of your papi as you grew older.
he had a friend at work whose wife worked in the factory where they were made, and every now and then he'd come home and gift you with a new one.
growing up a family of three kids meant you weren't always rewarded with the luxury of new toys or new books or new games, all three of you lived in hand me downs or homemade clothes for most of your childhood, not that you minded.
"fresa." eli warned softly as you made a rather loud noise mimicking an engine, smashing one of the cars into the leg of the chair you were sat by and nearly toppling it over, catching her eye and falling quiet.
you were again far too young to understand the truth of what was happening, and as you grew older your family all fell into a silent agreement that perhaps they'd kept you a little too sheltered around what was really going on.
which was why when a large group of family members arrived, visitors having been in and out all day saying their prayers or goodbyes, you looked up in confusion. you frowned as one of your tio's pinched your cheek hello and his wife gave you a weird watery smile.
your confusion grew as the crowd of people around your papi all fussed over him, some of them with tears in their eyes as one of your tia's began to pray, tightly holding your mami's hand.
"hey fresita, lets go for a walk?" you met your eldest sisters eye as she now crouched down beside you, a tired smile on her face as she sensed you were beginning to become overwhelmed at not understanding what was going on.
as you nodded your sister lifted you up and onto her hip, aware you were starting to become a little bigger and heavier but still she would hold and carry you for as long as you let her.
"my cars." you struggled for a moment in her grip as she let you down, kneeling and opening the backpack she'd packed for you when eli couldn't, zipping it up once your cars were safely inside and helping you shrug it on before picking you up again
"alba, venga hermana." alexia softly tapped her younger sisters shoulder who had moved aside to allow older family members to be by the bedside, hugging herself and stood in the corner.
eli caught her eldest daughter eye as she finished her prayer, sending her an appreciative smile before her attention was captured again and alexia left the room, you on her hip and alba tucked into her side.
not a word was said between the three of you as alexia tried to ignore the sad looks tossed your way by the nurses at the ward desk as you passed, knowing all too well which room you'd come from and the inevitable outcome which could happen any day now.
"can we get food?" you finally broke the silence, a small chuckle leaving both your sisters mouths as you all stepped into the elevator. "sí pequeña, we can get food." alexia bounced you as you smiled and nodded.
"mami usually brings snacks when we go out." the seemingly innocent and harmless comment had the air sucked right out of the confined space of the elevator, both of your sisters faces hardening.
"mami is just looking after papi right now fresa. but you will always have me and alba to look after you, vale?" alexia promised firmly, kissing your cheek as you nodded, her smile growing just slightly as you kissed her cheek in return.
"thats why you're my best friend ale." you yawned a little tiredly, head resting on her shoulder as the elevator opened now reaching the ground floor. "hey what about me?" alba protested, moving to your other side and poking at you making you grin and push her hand away.
"alexia is my best friend, you're alexias best friend, and im your best friend." you explained as alba ohh'd with an over enthusiastic nod. "what if you're not my best friend?" she teased with a smile as you frowned unhappily.
"only joking fresita, you might be annoying but you will always be my best friend." alba smiled as you huffed. "you're annoying, and old and grumpy." you stuck your tongue out which she returned.
"yeah? well when you're older and grumpier i promise to be just as annoying as you are and we'll see how you like it!" you squirmed as her fingers tickled your sides and you kicked your legs at her, alexia smiling at the interaction and kissing your head.
placing you down she gave alba some money and sent her off to the canteen to get some food for the three of you, noticing that the moment she put you down you hugged her leg, eyes roaming the hospital nervously.
she couldn't blame you, alexia hated it here and she knew what it meant. for you this was probably much more overwhelming, not understanding anything but easily able to pick up on the chaos of it all.
there were women crying, children yelling, nurses and doctors talking in serious tones with serious faces, machines beeping, weird smells, beds with wheels being pushed around and very tired looking people sleeping on them.
just last week you'd accidentally seen a man be wheeled past whose leg was split wide open down to the bone, eli barely able to cover your eyes in time as he was rushed past and you were quickly handed over to alba who raced you outside for some fresh air as your eyes filled with tears.
so as you clung to her leg and stared around clearly on the brink of distress your sister tugged gently on your collar gaining your attention as you looked up at her and she nodded her head forward, taking your hand and walking.
alexia walked the two of you in the direction of the gift store, scooping you back up onto her hip as she entered and sent the woman at the counter a small smile.
"we gettin something for papi?" you questioned with a small frown as alexia shook her head. "no, for you." she poked at your nose, soft smile growing as your face lit up. "really?" you asked happily as alexia nodded and walked the pair of you around for awhile.
"what about this?" alexia grabbed a small red bear she spied hidden beneath a pile of stuffed animals, balancing you on her hip with one hand as she held it up with the other.
"its red like a strawberry!" you chirped happily in approval making your sister laugh. "you and your strawberries. no wonder we call you fresa, you will one day turn into a strawberry." you giggled as she poked at your stomach but handed you the bear.
"will not!" "will too!" "will not!" "will too."
"what are you gonna name it nena?" alexia questioned once she'd paid for the small bear and placed you back down on your feet, one of your hands securely held in hers as the other hugged your new friend and the two of you headed toward the canteen to find alba.
"red." you stated as alexia gave you a funny look. "you are calling it red?" your sister questioned as you again nodded, giving it a kiss and tucking it under your arm.
"thats a colour though hermanita, don't you want to give it a real name?" alexia asked as you shook your head. "red is a real name! its her name." you were undeterred, spotting alba and trying to run toward her but your sisters grip on your hand prevented so.
"no running please fresa, not here." alexia warned gently as you nodded and hugged red, mumbling an apology as your sister brushed a few stray flyaway hairs out of your face.
"look!" you presented your new friend to your other sister who scooted her chair back, allowing you to climb up and into her lap as alexia sat across from her, a tray of food sat on the table in between them.
"her name is red, ale got her for me." you proudly announced as alba snickered. "red? thats just st-" the girl started, hissing as alexia kicked her under the table and shot her a warning look. "thats very cute fresita." alba looked down at your tiny hopeful face and pinched your cheek, kissing your forehead and encouraging you to eat.
once the three of you finished your food you made your way back toward the room, your new little friend working wonders to brighten your mood as you chattered your sisters ears off, your hand again held tightly in alexias much larger one to stop you running off.
though as you all arrived and alexia heard the sound of eli's sobs, clearly taking a private moment with her husband now she was alone with him, alexia stopped in her tracks as her stomach lurched hearing the foreign noise.
of course everyone had cried the moment he fell sick, even more when despite the best efforts it was deemed terminal and there was no longer anything that could be done, it was just a matter of waiting as the days passed and his condition deteriorated.
knowing that not with bad intentions your chatter and questions would likely make things worse alexia didn't continue forward, exchanging a look with alba as they held a quick silent conversation and nodded in agreement.
"hey i wanna see mami and papi." you frowned as alexia turned and headed back for the elevator, near dragging you with her now as you fought to tug your hand free.
"i wanna show them red! ale stop, let go!" your sister winced at the sob you let out when she didn't do as you asked. instead she pulled you with her and alba back to the elevator, your cries echoing throughout the ward as alba nudged her and as soon as alexia let go you tried to run but alba was faster.
"no! put me down! no no!" you struggled in her grip, your arms pinned to your side as you tried hitting out at her, not understanding why they wouldn't let you go back to the room as instead you were back in the elevator again.
"hey hey fresa, look at me nena por favor." your body heaved as you sniffled and choked back a sob, alexia cradling your face in her heads which had gone bright red. "breathe hermana, in and out." she cooed softly as you hiccuped and shook your head.
"i wanna see mami!" you choked out, alba rubbing gently at your back. "mami needs some adult time with papi, you can see her later promesa." alexia promised, swiping at the tears which leaked from the corners of your eyes.
"now." you huffed stubbornly as alexia shook her head. "no fresa, later. there is a garden here, do you want to go see it?" you hesitated at that, albas hand still rubbing at your back as you slowly nodded.
"okay. now can you breathe please hermanita? in and out." again your sister demonstrated as you copied, yours a little shakier as by the time you all exited the elevator you'd calmed yourself down a little with her help.
the three of you walked in silence out to the small courtyard garden in the middle of the hospital, alba putting you down as her and alexia sat down at a bench and you wandered off with red still in their sights.
a sniffle broke the silence which still grew between them, alexia glancing to her side to see her younger sister wiping at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, head turned away from her.
"ven aquí hermana." alexia spoke softly, lifting her arm and pulling the younger girl into a tight hug, her head resting on alexia's shoulder as the sniffles continued, the eldest putellas fighting back tears of her own knowing now she needed to be strong.
alba hurried to try and hide her tears as you returned but you'd already seen them, frowning up at her as she tried to smile. "you sad?" you asked your sister as alexia lifted you up to stand on the bench in between them.
"a little, estoy bien." alba assured with another sniffle, taken a little off guard as you launched at her, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. "its okay to be sad al." you patted her back making both girls smile.
you had always been an affection person especially when you were younger, your entire family quite affectionate it was no surprise but it was during this time that your hugs meant that little bit more even if you were too young to realise why.
"gracias fresita, te quiero." alba whispered, more tears welling up at the gesture as you hugged her tightly, red clutched in one hand. alexia watched on with a fond smile, still swallowing her own emotions and pushing them down for the sake of her sisters.
she was the eldest, it was her job to look after the two of you and make sure you were okay first, her needs came second and she was fine with that if it meant you and alba were as okay as you could be and knew that she would be there for both of you anytime and anyway needed.
but that didn't mean that you both didn't pick up on her needs every now and then too. which is exactly why when you deemed alba was okay your small form latched onto alexia next, arms slung around her neck as she squeezed you.
"estoy bien pequeña." alexia assured as you let go, your sister moving you to stand on her knees as your hands grabbed at her shoulders to steady yourself. "everyone needs a hug sometimes and you said mine are the best." you reminded making both girls chuckle.
"i did say that didn't i? and they are the very best fresa, the very very best."
your papi passed away in his sleep that night, and it was more than assured to say that your hugs were in high high demand.
"red." you finally spoke, still looking down at the bear in your hands as alexia hummed, meeting your eyes and sending you a small smile before your gaze dropped again.
a soft smile curled into your own features as your finger traced over the faded red bear, tugging gently at the small sweater which it wore that of course had a strawberry right in the centre. "i remember when abuela knitted that." alexia spoke up again nodding to the item of clothing.
"mami had to hand wash it because i kept trying to feed red strawberries and got it all dirty." you puffed air from your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could manage now still swamped beneath the symphony of memories, thoughts and feelings washing down over you.
"abuela gave it to me at papi's funeral." you remembered, thumb rubbing small circles against a particularly faded patch of fur, just as you used to do whenever you were nervous about something and much much younger, always having red with you through it all.
another bout of silence fell between you two until eventually alexia decided to test the waters.
"can i ask you something hermana?" your sister asked gently as you nodded, still focused down on the bear in your hands not having paid it a single thought for a long time now, the moment you started to feel your sisters pulling away had red shoved out of sight as well, a little too painful in a different way all together than you had felt before.
"is it because of him that you don't want to go and see mami in hospital?" alexia didn't even need to specify who as your stomach clenched uncomfortably and the anxiety returned, your chest tightening a little.
you took a moment and for a second alexia feared she'd crossed a line, readying an apology but you nodded before she could say another word, a cocktail of both sadness and relief flooding her body.
"but i don-" you looked up and started as your sister shook her head, tentatively reaching a hand out to rest it on your shoulder, again relieved when you made no move to push it off.
"we do not need to talk about it now if you don't want to. but i meant what i said, you will always have me to look after you hermana. i have not been very good at showing that lately and i do not know how else to say sorry with words-" her hand moved slowly to rest on your cheek and again you made no move to push her away.
"-but i have to let my actions show it now. and i love you fresa, very much. mami will be okay, but i promise you that you would never ever be alone." you could only give a stiff nod at her words, your sister sensing you were slightly overwhelmed and removing her hand, slowly getting up to her feet.
"buenas noches hermana, i am just down the hall if you need anything." alexia promised softly as again you nodded, sending her a tiny smile but even that was reward enough for alexia as she left you and headed for her childhood room.
as everything crashed down on you your body plunged into exhaustion, forcing yourself up and kicking aside the bag of clothes, tiredly rubbing your eyes and closing your bedroom door with a soft click.
nobody would know but you, but as you slipped into bed and flicked off your lamp, red was clutched tightly in your hands as your eyes slammed shut and you fell into a dreamless sleep.
alexia on the other hand was wide awake, wandering around her childhood room which felt like a time capsule, hardly changed since the day she moved out.
rummaging through her wardrobe she froze seeing a faded nike box pushed up against the back, hidden behind a stack of old textbooks which she quickly moved out of the way, coughing slightly as she blew off the thin layer of dust which coated the top.
taking a seat on her bed she placed the box down in front of her, gingerly opening the top and her body going limp as it was confirmed the contents were indeed what she thought they might be.
before she had time to rifle through and look at anything her phone rang and she jumped in surprise, her girlfriends contact name and number flashing across the screen as alexia clicked answer.
"hola mi amor." the older girl greeted which was returned, the two catching up about their days as olga pretended not to notice that part of alexia asking so many questions about her girlfriends day was to avoid speaking much about hers.
though with some gentle prompting she opened up a little, olga listening attentively as she did. "red is an adorable name." olga chuckled in an attempt to ease the obvious emotional discourse the blonde was feeling after she'd explained the backstory to the small bear.
"its a colour, not a name mi vida." "you could argue that fresa is a fruit, not a name amor." olga countered, stunning alexia into silence for a moment. "see? you cannot disagree." her girlfriend laughed as alexia sighed but agreed none the less.
"then i found a box in my wardrobe, i forgot it was there but i tore my room apart when i moved trying to find it to take with me and i thought someone had thrown it away." alexia admitted as olga hummed.
"its my fresa box." the blonde murmured quietly, switching her girlfriend to facetime and propping her phone up on the nightstand and moving around a little.
"your fresa box?" olga encouraged her to elaborate but gently, not wanting to push her as she could clearly see the pain masked in her lovers eyes, her poker face unreadable to most but olga could always see right through it.
"sí. it has notes, drawings, holiday cards, pictures, all things she gave and made me when she was little." a fond smile curled into alexia's features as she carefully rifled through the box, holding things up to show her girlfriend whose own face was filled with joy at the sight.
"fresa wrote all of that?" olga asked with raised eyebrows and a grin as alexia finished reading out an essay you'd had to write in school about your hero, and you'd chosen alexia.
"oh mi amor." olgas tone softened seeing the singular tear escaped the corner of her lovers eye, quickly wiped away as alexia cleared her throat. "hey, ale. don't do that, you don't need to run away from your feelings with me." olga promised as alexia attempted to change subject.
"i just-" alexia tried to speak but could only shake her head, no words coming out despite just how much she had to say. "you miss her cariño, sí?" olga echoed softly as alexia nodded.
"and this is probably how she has felt if not worse when she thought alba and i did not care about her anymore. i made her feel like this! my fresa." alexia managed out, eyes squeezed shut as she inhaled shakily, her girlfriend encouraging her to breathe slowly while still assuring it was okay for her to feel this way, it was okay for her to cry.
"she loves you alexia, she always will. you know how you made her feel which is why you will not let it happen again, and you have the rest of your life to prove that to her amor." olga promised sincerely as alexia nodded, wiping quickly at the corner of her eye with the collar of her shirt.
"i remember this." alexia was even faster to change topics, grabbing out a drawing as her girlfriend watched three or four different emotions flicker through her hazel eyes before she turned the page.
"your tattoo." olga smiled in recognition as alexia nodded, the drawing in question one you'd done for her not long after juame had passed and you'd returned to school, still not quite understanding that he wouldn't be coming home again.
alexia's head was covered with a hood, ignoring the pitying looks of the parents around her who had obviously heard what happened, hoping the scowl on her face would ward off any attempts at talking to her.
though it melted the moment she locked eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your eyes lit up and you sprinted toward her, seemingly never any less excited to see her despite the fact she picked you up from school practically every day.
"catch me!" alexia bent down and scooped you up as you dropped your backpack and leapt at her, but she didn't spin you around like normal and gently pushed away your hand when you tried to pull her hood down to see her properly.
"you're not going to football?" you asked a little confused as why your sister wasn't dressed for training like normal and she shook her head wordlessly, grabbing your backpack in her free hand and quickly leaving before anyone had the chance to try and talk to her.
though apparently she wasn't fast enough as someone called out her name and she sighed recognizing your teacher waving her down as she lingered at the school gates and contemplated for a moment just making a run for it.
"stay here please fresa." you were placed back down on your feet and the oddly serious tone of your sisters voice had you rooted in place as alexia stepped away for a moment to speak with your teacher.
"lo siento for the bother alexia, i was going to call your mami but i am sure there is a lot going on at home." the woman started gently as alexia gave a tight lipped smile and crossed her arms across her chest, keeping one eye on you over the womans shoulder as one of your classmates had wandered over to chat with you.
"look i just-your hermana drew something in class today, a picture of your family." the woman started as alexia's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "she draws every day." her reply was sharp, clearly thinking this was a waste of time.
"no no lo siento, a picture of all your family. i complimented her on it and she said it was all of you in heaven visiting your papi, and that she really hoped you would all be able to go there to see him there soon." the womans words were much softer now and concern was clear in her eyes for what the younger girls reaction would be who stayed silent.
"i didn't want to overstep by correcting her. but alexia, if you or your familia need anything, please know i am here." the woman promised as alexia swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded, mumbling out a quiet gracias and turning quickly to head back toward you.
"venga fresa." your sister held her hand out which you grabbed, waving goodbye to your friends as the two of you left the school, alexia stuck in her thoughts and only half listening as you started to chatter on about your day as you always would.
"ale." she came to at a tug on her sleeve, looking down at you. "lo siento nena, what did you need?" she stopped walking and bent down to your height with a tired smile which didn't reach her eyes as you pointed to your backpack.
presenting it to you you unzipped it, shoving your arm in and feeling around with a frown before pulling out an apple as alexia made a face. "fresa i packed this for you on monday!" she cringed plucking it from your hand and glancing around before tossing it into a bush.
"i drew this for you." you finally found what you were looking for, offering her a piece of paper. swallowing hard alexia's eyes roamed the artwork and a lump formed in her throat as your teachers words came to fruition.
"its you and me and alba and mami and papi in heaven! you were sad this morning so i drew it for you. maybe we can go see papi in heaven today? i did a drawing for him too." your little face was filled with such innocence and hope it crushed alexia's heart like someone ran over her with a truck as she wanted to throw up.
"no lo siento fresa, we can't go see papi in heaven. but lets go for a walk in the park pequeña, i think we need to have a big girl talk."
"you had to explain heaven to her?" olga asked in disbelief as alexia sighed with a small shrug.
"someone had to. we all agreed as she got older we should have done more when he was sick to explain what was happening but...she was just so little, so happy, so innocent." alexia breathed out with a pained wince.
"she went out of her way even if she didn't understand why everyone was sad to try and cheer us up, i needed her and alba just as much as they needed me. mami was...she was grieving amor. she did her best but there was slack and i picked it up, i had to be there for them." alexia forced out a small smile as olga's face softened.
"but mi corazón, who was there for you?" the girl asked softly as alexia sighed again, fingers instinctively tucking under her shirt to trace the tattoo on her ribs.
the five of you in stick figure form holding hands, your drawing for your sister which was now and would always be with alexia inked to her skin, forever.
~
your day hadn't started as you'd hoped.
when you woke up your sleep last night had been anything but restful, waking up multiple times throughout the night as your chest tightened with anxiety the back of your eyes ached with exhaustion.
you'd quickly called in sick to work, a small smile on your face as your boss had joked he was almost going to cancel your shift if you didn't slow down to look after yourself before promising you'd be able to take all the time you needed.
word spread quickly through the clinic as texts of support poured in from your friends and coworkers, all encouraging you reach out should you need anything which you were very grateful for.
when your door was still closed two hours after you were supposed to have left for work alexias own body relaxed a little, relieved you were finally taking a day for yourself and stepping outside onto the balcony to have a coffee and make a few phone calls.
your sister was surprised that when she returned you were awake, your back to her as you made a coffee of your own. though soon as it was done with a tired smile you headed back to your own room again.
alexia gave you your own space until lunch time, knocking at your door as you responded and she pushed it open.
"do you want to go get sushi for lunch?" your sister questioned, knowing you hadn't eaten all day she already had back ups in mind if you declined but to her shock you gave her a nod, asking for some time to shower and change.
you didn't say a word the entire car ride clearly lost in your own head, barely batting an eyelash as alexia pulled up in front of alba's house and your sister joined you in the car, sharing a look with alexia who subtly shook her head, the radio filling the silence of the journey.
but as you turned down a familiar road you seemed to come more to attention, pulling your head off the window and frowning, a small scoff leaving your mouth as alexia pulled into the hospital parking complex.
"funny looking sushi restaurant." you muttered sinking into your seat once alexia found a park. "i can't believe you lied to me." you shook your head angrily at the deception.
"i didn't. we will get sushi hermana, just after you see mami." alexia decreed as you shook your head again and crossed your arms. "im not getting out of the car." you refused stubbornly as alexia sighed.
"you will." "i won't." "you will." "i won't." "you will." "i won't."
"this is ridiculous. fresa, get out of the car!" alba intervened as you glanced to the back seat and shot her a filthy look which didn't deter her.
"alba." alexia gave her a look of her own as she backed down and got out of the car herself, closing the door and leaving you with your eldest sister.
"she's awake."
your head snapped sideways to look at her with a frown. "you're lying." you decided as alexia shook her head. "no, the hospital called me this morning. but i wanted to give you a little time to yourself first before we came, but she is awake and stable fresa, i promise." alexia assured softly as you wrenched your eyes away.
"she's not going anywhere hermanita, but we shouldn't keep her waiting, she's still very tired." alexia added on, reaching over to gently squeeze your knee before she opened her door.
you watched for a few minutes as your sisters spoke with one another, clearly about you as they glanced back to the car every few seconds with a shake or a nod, likely planning to drag you from the car themselves if you refused much longer.
so with an exhausted exhale you unbuckled yourself, hauling ass out of the car and closing the door, wordlessly following after your sisters toward the hospital.
the closer you got the more your stomach twisted and clearly your apprehension was written across your face as your sisters slowed just slightly to fall into step with you, now both stood protectively either side of your shorter form.
"can i go by myself?" you asked quietly as you all signed in and arrived to the coronary ward, glancing past them both to eli's room as they shared a look. "sure hermana, we'll be right out here if you need anything." alba promised as you nodded and they stepped aside, your legs feeling like jelly the closer you got to her room as they hung back watching you go.
it was as if you were a balloon and someone stuck a pin in you the moment you entered her room and caught her eye, deflating entirely and crumpling as you dragged yourself to her bed side.
"mami." you managed to whisper out, dropping into the chair by her side as she smiled tiredly and reached for you, your face buried into her shoulder as her hands cradled your head.
"mi hija pequeña." she spoke, her voice flooding your body with relief as tears welled up and you hugged her tightly, though still very carefully as you were more than away of the amount of wires which protruded from her skin.
"you're okay." you whispered again as you pulled back and wiped your eyes, eli smiling with a nod. "i am okay. not going anywhere hija, takes more than that to kill me." you knew it was a joke but you frowned, the older woman apologizing and pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes.
"i was so scared mami. you just...you collapsed, you weren't breathing, i didn't know what to do or how to help." your voice broke as you forced back the tears which were clawing their way up.
"but you did help fresita, you did everything right. but i am so sorry for scaring you mi hija, lo siento mucho." eli apologised, voice full of remorse as you shook your head dismissing it.
"no. i am just glad you're okay mami." you promised, taking her outstretched hand, your intertwined fingers resting on her mattress. at her request you filled her in on everything that had been going on the last few days, not leaving out many details as you never did, always the most honest with the woman you trusted more than anyone.
"oh nena i am not going anywhere, i promise." the womans own eyes near filled with tears as you managed to force out the story of finding red and all the turmoil of memories which had surfaced being back at the hospital all those years ago.
"mi fresa. i need to tell you some things, about some of my regrets in life." eli spoke softly, giving your hand a squeeze as you frowned in confusion but nodded for her to continue.
"even before your papi was sick i worked a lot, so did he. we needed the money so i took up night work, so did he. it meant i relied on your hermana's to look after each other but mostly after you, you were still so young and...well to look after someone that age can be a lot." eli started gently as you nodded for her to go on.
"then when your papi was sick i relied on them more, alexia especially. your hermana did for you things i should have done for you as your mami, she shouldered the responsibilities of a parent when she was barely a teenager and that was not fair on her fresa, i was not fair to put her in that position." eli paused to cough as you hurried to help her sit up a little more and grab her a glass of water which she sipped at and placed back down.
"when your papi passed i was grieving heavily, we all were. but again, alexia had responsibilities on her shoulders that were far too heavy, far too much for a teenager and a daughter herself. she took on not only her grief but also mine, and alba's, and yours, she stepped in when i pulled back. your hermana pushed her grief down and bottled up her feelings to care for everyone elses, she has always done so." eli explained again squeezing your hand.
"in a way i stole part of alexia's youth with how much responsibility was put on her, i never ever meant to, and i do not blame anyone but myself for not noticing sooner. it is something i have to learn to live with, and that your sister will never understand, to her its just...how it was, how she needed to be." eli continued as you stayed silent letting her speak.
"but fresa, alexia loves you more than anyone in the entire world, she has from the very second you were born. you were a gift to this family and alexia has always maybe looked at you as a little more than her hermana. i am not excusing how your sisters made you feel mi fresita, but if you hear them out you might find they did not mean to make you feel that way." eli seemed to finish with that as you could only nod, choking back tears and afraid if you attempted to speak that dam would break all together.
"so promise me you will hear them out." you again nodded at that, eli raising your adjoined hands to her mouth and softly kissing your hand before you leaned in to hug her again, head resting against her chest and closing your eyes, memorizing the sound of her heartbeat as her hand ran through your hair.
"te quiero hija mia."
~
promising to be back tomorrow and to send your sisters in next you'd quickly darted off to the bathroom to rinse your face and take a moment to yourself, overwhelmed with emotion as you bit down on your shirt to stop your sobs being audible.
after a few minutes you'd calmed enough to regulate your breathing, rinsing your face again and exhaling, wincing at your reflection but leaving the ward bathroom.
you found alba sat where you'd left her, alexia nowhere to be seen.
"i think she went to call olga." alba shrugged as you questioned her whereabouts, checking you were okay as you nodded and she hurried off to see eli, all of you having been warned by the doctor that having just woken up she would obviously be exhausted and likely need to rest soon.
you waited around for awhile but when alexia didn't return you decided to look for her, eventually seeing the back of her tall figure at the end of the hallway where there was a small kitchenette with tea and coffee for visistors, nobody else around.
though as you grew closer you soon realised why your sister had made sure that was the case, hearing the tears in her voice as she held the phone to her ear.
"-and sí i know mami is okay now but its just bringing back all of the memories from before and i was so worried that she would not wake up and-" feeling eyes on her back you shrunk as alexia's head whipped around and spotted you.
quickly murmuring something and hanging up the phone she furiously wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, trying to cover up the fact she'd been crying as she sent you a forced smile.
"how was-" alexia didn't get another word out before you'd closed the gap between the two of you and your body barreled into hers, your arms wrapping around her in a tight hug as your sister almost fell over not having expected this in a million years.
it took a moment for her to register what was happening before her arms wrapped around you in turn, your face pressed into her shoulder as the two of you just held one another in silence, both needing it just as much as the other did.
"i love you alexia."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i am far too exhausted to proof read this so please be kind toward any typos or grammar errors my friends
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obscure-entity · 7 months
Note
your shading is AMAZING specially when its conveying organic forms..... do you have any tips for people who dont know wrf going on (with shading)
ok so HI. hi. my old tutorial pisses me off so i will make a new one
i made a guy whose sole purpose is to be shaded so dont worry he likes it. and his name. his name will be mr. Boob. mr boob does not have to be blue
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theres probably way better explanations of how to do it but unfortunately trying to "emulate" shading does ask you to somewhat understand ur character in a 3d way. like what would the 2d shape be if you "sliced" it? mr boob is made of so many circles. his tail also does a kind of weird perspective foreshortening thing because its pointing at you. is this being conveyed
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you obviuously dont have to draw a horrendous grid on your characters skin to do this . BUT it helps you put down (or at least envision) the lines of the form shading :
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dont worry about cast shadows or the shading color because this is FORM SHADOW time only. think about what surfaces of the character are obviously facing away from the light source and put down the "separation line" of the shading based on that. thr most important thing is that youre trying to separate light from dark
im going to pick the first one for cast shadows bc it will be the most obvious to me
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ok so. his ears and snout are blocking other surfaces of his body from the light, which means a shadow is cast!!!! bam. i saw someone describe cast shadows as what the light's pov "can't see." his entire body is putting down a cast shadow on the ground too
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im impatient so i blended the form shadows now. its usually the easiest to just NOT blend cast shadows as a way of conveying that they are still cast shadows. but you can still blend them if you want to show "distance" between the obstruction and the surface its blocking. but its just a way of saying form and cast shadows should not be treated the same even if their softness coincides
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im going to lump reflection and ambient light together because theyre like. similar. reflections dont just happen in mirrors
since the sky is blue, making the ambient lighting, i tinged mr. boobs existing shadow to be a bit blue. (*this is kind of important because it can help you decide a shading color, which should USUALLY be based on the environment) (unless your character is just in the transparent void then it doesnt matter)
since the ground is pink, i made pink light bounce off of him. pointed and labelled. i dont rlly know how to go more in depth than that
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contact shadows are literally shadows formed from direct-touching contact. very little light can reach in there, even from how reflections disperse, which means youre free to use the darkest color available (black). in this case mr. boob is making contact with the floor. because he is sitting on the floor.
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i touched him up a bit and wow!!!!!!!!!! look at mr. boob!!! he is so beautifully sculpted.
and one more thing
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thats right. i made mr boob PINK. hes fucking ruined now. just kidding i would never say that to him
what im trying to convey here (its the easiest with really light colors) is a transitional color. this can also show subsurface scattering depending on how you use it which is fun to look at. the mistake i made on my last tutorial was "Just pick a warm saturated color!" which is really wrong in examples like Blue mr boob. because it would be weird to use a warm color to transition from blue to blue.
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if you have a character that isn't bright enough then obviously the shadows wont be as visible. its BEST to bring more attention to highlights and reflections to reveal the form a bit. they play the biggest role with darker colors
thats all i can think of. fun things to look up:
structuralization + contour lines + foreshortening etc. 3d lingo
form shadows
cast shadows
ambient light
contact shadows
subsurface scattering
im also just speaking out of my ass otherwise. i didnt look up any of these terms until the end now im inferring and hoping i got them right
and remember every time you shade mr boob will be rooting for you
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nerdpoe · 1 year
Text
Danny and Dani and Dan get Alfreded in three fell swoops
So like, sad time, but Alfred dies while Bruce is doing his world tour. He never survived long enough to see Bruce become Batman. Died alone in the Manor, after a particularly nasty fall and a broken neck.
But that was unacceptable.
Master Bruce, insufferable boy, could not lose another paternal figure in his life. Also the Manor was still a mess, and Bruce would need someone to make sure he didn't accidentally poison himself.
So he hid his corpse on the Manor grounds, and got to work.
And he was so glad he stayed; sure, it had taken a bit to stop glowing, but really the floating thing was amazingly helpful in reaching the chandelier, and after Master Bruce had returned he had gotten so many grandchildren.
Fast forward; Danny defeated Pariah Dark, he is Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, Dan is attempting reformation and is technically a Prince by relation, and Dani is attempting to be Dan's parole officer and is definitely a Princess 100% she never forgets that no sir.
And Danny gets approached by some of the Observants, and they tell him that there is a very powerful ghost in Gotham, one that fully and completely blends in with humans and really needs to come to the Infinite Realms to complete his paperwork. But whenever they show up, this ghost thinks that they're there to force him to stay in the Infinite Realms.
And he kicks their asses.
Brutally.
For a bit he had a tiny kid ghost with him kicking their asses as well, but the kid randomly disappeared one day.
The Observants very clearly outline that this ghost is not Gotham herself, although the tax-evading criminal has been seen having tea with her.
Danny has no desire to deal with this; he just graduated high school and needs to focus on what college he's going to choose, so if Dan or Dani want to throw hands with some weird Gotham Ghost then by all means. Fuck taxes anyways, what did the Zone even take for taxation, what-?
So Danny splits his time college hunting and trying to find out how tax laws work in the Ghost Zone.
Dani goes to the old man first, and Alfred promptly sits her down and gives her cookies and hot chocolate, treats her like the kid she's never been treated like between Vlad and all of the Zone focusing on the Princess thing, and she feels at home for the second time in her half-life.
Dani gets a call from a nervous Observant, and promptly tells him she isn't going back either so nyah.
Dan goes to pick her up, and Alfred asks him if he is quite alright, he looks rather tense, and that if it is a fight he wants then the Justice League could probably use a new member, after all Alfred knows an upstanding young man when he sees one, and clearly Dan just needs a chance to prove to himself that he can be good.
Just like another young man Alfred knows.
Dan gets a call from a nervous Observant, and tells them that he's a little busy stopping an alien invasion, and is a tentative member of the Justice League now so he doesn't have time for their bullshit.
Also fuck taxes.
Finally, Danny has no choice.
He goes to drag this random old man and his little sister back to the Zone himself.
Alfred takes one look at him and slowly slides a flier for Gotham University across the kitchen island.
"Your younger sister speaks well of you," the dead butler says, eyes beaming, "and I believe that, given what she has said, you qualify for one of the Wayne Educational Grants for a full ride, so to speak."
Alfred never gets dragged into the Ghost Zone, although eventually he does learn that they weren't trying to drag him into the Land of the dead but were just trying to get him to do paperwork.
He never goes.
Bruce, however, is very fucking confused as to where these strange kids came from.
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loveronlineee · 2 years
Text
The Metalhead and the Material Girl (Eddie Munson x Reader)
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Masterlist   All Parts
Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: none
Synopsis: When a super fem new girl joins Eddie’s class he thinks he’s got her all figured out, but he soon finds out that the popular kids aren’t the only ones who judge people’s first appearances 
Y/N notes: none
Okay I don’t usually do writers notes but I gotta say thanks to these four: @carolinaflicker​ @iamsiriuss​ @hauntingtherosebush​ @lindsey3300​ for helping me out on the lil bit of D&D stuff I mentioned. Some of you guys had slightly different answers for me so if I’m still wrong let me know! (And other D&D playing peeps)
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
“I’m Y/N L/N. I transferred here from California for my senior year. I like pop music, fashion and hanging out with my friends. And I hope I can become friends with all of you!”
Pretty. Bubbly. Probably a bit of an airhead. The popular kids will scoop her up in a heartbeat. Eddie thought to himself looking up at the new girl. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to be just like everyone else.
The teacher pointed at the empty seat on the metal head’s right, giving the boy a stern look.
“Y/N I’m gonna seat you next to Eddie here at the front so you can help me keep an eye on him.” Eddie grinned and gave the teacher a wink.
Okaaaay here we go. Eddie thought to himself, leaning back in his chair. What kind of popular girl is this one gonna be? Disgusted by me? Weirded out? Just plain old pretend I don’t exist?
“Hi, Eddie was it?” The new girl asked with the biggest most genuine smile Eddie had ever seen. Her face was enough to melt away any built up hate he had accumulated from every harsh comment thrown at him throughout the years.
“Uh yeah Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He couldn’t help the smile appearing on his own face. This girl was a ball of sunshine.
“Nice to meet you Eddie.” He watched as she took out her things from her bag and set them out on the table. Everything was either pink, glittery or had a cute little character on it. She wrote the date on a new page in her notebook, doodling little stars around the numbers.
The teacher came over and placed a piece of paper on Y/N’s desk.
“This is your time table with your classes. Don’t be afraid to ask someone for help.”
“Oh thank you!” Y/N chirped before beginning to read through it. “Hey Eddie, what classes do we have together?” She tilted the paper towards him. Eddie leaned over and skimmed the page.
“Oh wow most of them. We got all the same ones today in fact.”
“Do you mind if I just stuck with you then?”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie wasn’t in fact planning on going to all his classes today, like most days, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know this girl more. He spent the morning walking Y/N to all her classes, pointing out other parts of the school she’ll need to know. He revelled in the looks the other students were giving him when they saw them together. The resident freak with a mystery bombshell.
Lunch came around and Y/N followed Eddie to the lunch hall.
“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you… what’s on your shirt? Is it a band?” Y/N asked.
“It’s my club.”
“Oh cool! You run a club? What’s it about?” Eddie smiled at her as they reached his table of friends.
“A little game called D&D.” He turned to them and gestured to the new girl. “Gentlemen, this is Y/N.”
The boys all looked at her slack jawed, unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, Y/N had enough social skills for the whole table.
“It’s nice to meet you all! I started here today, Eddie’s been showing me around.” She explained as Eddie pulled out the chair in between his and Dustin’s and letting her sit down. He sat in his own chair at the head of the table just observing his friends trying to process this girl being here.
“You’ve been with Eddie…” Mike started asking very slowly, like he was waiting for the pin to drop. “…since this morning?”
“Yeah he’s been really helpful.” Y/N smiled at the younger student. “So are you two freshmen?”
Y/N continued chatting with Mike and Dustin. Eddie looked behind them at the popular kids who were eyeing him suspiciously. The cheerleaders all glaring and whispering to each other. “Eddie!” The metal head looked back at Y/N.
“Yeah?”
“So all these guys are in your club?” She gestured at the group. “You were gonna tell me about D&D earlier, what’s the game about?” Y/N asked, genuinely interested. Eddie grinned. He stood up like he was presenting to a class. Everyone sat up, hands neatly rested on the table, going along with the joke.
“D&D, or Dungeons and Dragons, is a fantasy table-top roleplaying game that only a select few at this school truly appreciate.” Eddie used theatrical hand motions as he described the game, putting one foot on his chair to add to the dramatic effect. “It is a game of teamwork, decision making, and the luck of the dice.”
He gave Dustin a small nod which prompted the boy to take a heavy book out of his bag and put it in front of Y/N. The Dungeons and Dragons Handbook. She began flicking through it, taking in as much as she could. She gasped.
“Can I be a fairy???” Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm. He sat back down and shuffled his chair closer to hers.
“I’m sure I could homebrew something for you. Either that or you could be an elfen princess? If you just want that pretty ethereal girl look.” Eddie paused. “That… you’ve already got.” He looked back down at his hands, a little hesitant of his last line, before looking back up. Y/N was smiling at the compliment, easing Eddie’s nerves.
“Hey!” Two cheerleaders had approached the table, one calling out to Eddie with annoyance in her voice. “Why don’t you just stick with the freaks?” Eddie leaned away from Y/N and looked to the popular girls.
They turned to Y/N, who seemed a little confused. “You can come and sit with us instead.” One of them said, like she was doing the new girl a favour. Y/N looked over at Eddie. He kept his face the same, not wanting to influence her decision.
Of course he wanted her to stay, but he just couldn’t deal with the guilt of depriving Y/N of having an actual enjoyable high school experience. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, if she was hanging out with the freaks then she was gonna get bullied.
“Oh uh okay then.” Y/N replied apprehensively, slowly getting up. “I-I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she was dragged away by the cheerleaders. Eddie pursed his lips together in a saddening smile.
“Suuuuuuuure you will.” He said just as Y/N got out of earshot. He looked around at the guys. “And that my friends, concludes the story of the time we almost got a hot chick to play D&D.” The group mumbled and chuckled, going back to their lunch, clearly no where nearly as affected as Eddie.
He knew this was inevitable. With who Y/N was and who he was. But a part of him, a small part of him wanted to believe that she’d stay. For him. That she wouldn’t get poisoned by the ideologies of the social hierarchy. But that was just wishful thinking. He looked back down at the table.
At least it was nice while it lasted.
“Sorry bout that.” Eddie looked back up to see Y/N again. “So I can be an elf princess?”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“…why are you here?”
“I did say I’d only be gone a minute.” She smiled. Eddie stared at her, unable to speak. His head slowly turned to the popular kids. They looked even more surprised than him.
“W-What about them?” He gestured.
“What about them?” Y/N asked, confused.
“Aren’t you gonna hang out with them?”
“They don’t seem like people I’d want to hang out with.”
“They don’t?”
“Do I look like a bully to you?” She joked. “So, elf princess? Yes?” Eddie’s smile retuned to his face.
“Yeah. Yeah definitely a princess.”
Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​
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awearywritersworld · 6 months
Text
i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend
sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist
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"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.
"i'll pass."
sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.
"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"
"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."
"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."
"it's gotten me this far."
you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.
making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."
he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus
you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.
"what's it about?"
"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."
"your subtly never ceases to amaze."
"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."
he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"
you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"
"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."
he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.
clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.
he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.
"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.
your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."
"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"
"not if you're cheating, now let me see."
"no."
you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.
swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.
with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"
you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."
"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"
you gasp. "so you admit it?"
"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.
"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"
he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."
"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.
he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.
sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.
leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.
unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).
"please?" you repeat.
he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.
sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?
no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"
grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.
when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.
"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."
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"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."
you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.
"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."
he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"
sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."
yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"
"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."
"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"
"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.
"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."
"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."
"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.
"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"
yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.
sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."
his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.
but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.
you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.
you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.
"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.
"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.
"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.
yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.
once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"
"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."
when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.
he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.
around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.
he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."
you finally turn to face him. "really?"
"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."
"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"
he shrugs. "you pissed me off."
you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"
"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."
you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"
"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.
"wait. please don't go."
just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.
when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.
"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."
are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.
moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.
he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.
you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.
well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.
"then why are you upset with me?"
his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."
"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"
"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."
he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?
he probably deserves it anyway.
why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?
oh, right. because you care about him.
you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.
once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.
with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.
so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.
it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.
and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.
it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.
he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.
his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.
your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.
he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.
when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."
he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"
his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."
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ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.
upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."
he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.
you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.
"sukuna?"
he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"
you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"
"no reason."
"did you enjoy it?"
"yes."
"why?"
he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"
you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."
"and the creature?"
"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."
you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."
and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:
"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”
his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.
you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.
"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"
"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."
he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."
"and you didn't care for it?"
"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."
your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"
"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."
your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"
he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.
"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."
"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.
he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."
you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.
he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."
he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.
"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"
sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.
"no," he answers decidedly.
looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.
he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.
is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.
"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.
his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.
he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.
for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.
he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?
his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"
you tilt your head to the side. "why?"
"because even if it's made me into a monster..."
for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—
"all of my actions have led me to you."
your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.
you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.
as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."
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a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.
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yuwuta · 5 months
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mine. — inumaki toge
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❝i just wanna say you’re mine, you’re mine; fuck what you heard, you’re mine, you’re mine.
000. inumaki toge + reader
001. fluff, non-curse/college au, slightly suggestive but barely, inumaki uses sign language and speaks like two actual verbal words
002. baby sized drabble, barely even 1k words
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Toge would consider himself patient. He doesn’t mind waiting in long lines for the release of a new game, has no problem when the trains are delayed because it means he can sit and relax in the station a little longer, can sit for hours on end doing nothing and not be bored—but his tolerance for watching other people mess with his girlfriend is extremely low.
He reasons that you continue the conversation because you think it’s merely friend and polite to do so, and you’ve always been such a pleasantly happy drunk. But Toge knows this conversation isn’t friendly on the other end—and it’s not some protective boyfriend instinct, either, he has solid evidence of this idiot talking about you to his other idiot friend in front of Toge during lecture, with no knowledge that he was behind them, or that you are very not single.
(“She’s gorgeous, bro, look,” the kid muses, showing his friend your Instagram profile, “She’s in my bioethics class, and she’s easily the hottest girl. Smart, too. Little bit of a teacher’s pet, but I don’t care, she’s beautiful. A solid eight, for sure.”)
Toge knows that if this guy ever got his head out of his ass and ever bucked up the balls to actually ask you out instead of using roundabout flirting tactics and hopelessly pining over you during lectures, that you’d turn him down. He isn’t worried about losing you, and he doesn’t doubt your love for him. It does, however, concern him that there are people who believe they have a shot with you in the first place. He can’t possibly let that carry on. 
(Also, an eight? How could this guy call you beautiful, but say you’re an eight? It doesn’t equate—Toge doesn’t believe in rating women, but you’re not an eight. You’re a fifteen on a scale of one to ten; a shining star amongst a sea of planets; the love of his life). 
His fuse is about to blow when the guy touches you, reaches for your hair and carefully twirls a bit between his fingers. He knows that move; he knows the excuse was probably that there was something stuck to your hair, but Toge didn’t see shit. He’s had enough, and promptly bulldozes through Maki’s small apartment to reach you. He’s not sure if he’s making a ruckus, or if you can sense him coming, but you turn your head in his direction, a smile spreading on your face before cheering, “Hey, Toge! Do you—”
You’re cut off by a tug on your shirt, firm and impatient—but you’re not moving yet, not quick enough, so he does it again. Your eyes seem to light up with realization. You turn back to acknowledge the boy, and that’s really when Toge really loses it. All he hears is the stupid, desperate pitch of the kid’s voice sputtering out something about finding you later and grabbing drinks for you both, even as Toge’s dragging you through the crowd.
You let yourself be pulled by Toge’s greedy hand. It’s not all that far, just into a corner of the hallway, next to a closet where Maki keeps her cleaning and kickboxing supplies. He’s tempted to pull you into her bedroom, but he’s not up for being bruised for a week. 
“You okay?” you question, voice sweet and genuine—and it makes him grimace, because you really didn’t have a clue. Not one at all. 
Toge huffs, drops your hand to sign; using his left hand to circle around his face slowly, tapping at his chin. You understand, but only partially, given the slight tilt of your head and question that follows, “Beautiful? That’s why you’re upset?” 
He blinks slowly, shaking his head and flailing his arms in the direction of the living room. You follow his hands, down the hall then back to his face, but he can tell you still don’t get it. He tries again, pointing to you, then repeating his previous sign and adding another, and he can see the realization spread across your face, followed shortly by a bashful chuckle. 
“Too pretty? Me?” you ask to confirm. Toge nods his head, all serious and steely eyes, but you throw yours back with a hearty laugh this time. He crinkles his eyebrows, repeating his initial signs this time. Hdoesn’t know what’s so funny, if you’re laughing because you’re flattered or you find him ridiculous or something in between, but Toge means it either way; wants to ingrain it into you, just how beautiful you are.
So, he raises his hands again, when your eyes have met him again, and goes slower this time—pulls his mask down for good measure, so you can read his expression more clearly—to sign one simple word: “Mine.”
You tilt your head to the side again, and now Toge is the one laughing. He thinks you might be a little more drunk than you’ve let on, or maybe you just want him to indulge you. Either way, he has no problem repeating himself, doesn’t mind telling you again and again and again. 
He takes a step forward, leaving mere inches between you. You seem much smaller than him like this, still giggling, but he doesn’t mind. Toge reaches for your rest again, turning your palm upward and using a single finger to trace the letters of the word “mine,” onto your skin.
Your laughter comes to a halt when you verbalize his words, “Mine?” Toge nods, turning your wrist again to lace your hands together, pushes yours against the wall, uses his free one to cradle your cheek. He adores the way your pupils get bigger, the way your lips part slightly in anticipation. It’s his turn to smile, pulling you towards him for a kiss and ghosting his words over your lips, “You’re mine.”
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buryustogether · 11 months
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lilac - chapter 1
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miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.
wc: 6k
warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader
author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.
New York
Earth - 9193
Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.
You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.
Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.
Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.
She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.
Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”
Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”
Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”
As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.
Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.
You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.
Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.
You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.
“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.
You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?
“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”
He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”
Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”
Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”
His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”
Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”
Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”
“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”
“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”
“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”
Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.
On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.
You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents’ bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.
Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.
It was time to really work, now.
The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?
Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.
It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?
The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.
Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.
That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.
To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.
“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”
A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.
Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.
Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”
Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.
Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”
“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”
Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.
Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”
“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”
“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.
God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.
Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.
Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”
Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.
Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.
You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.
Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.
He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.
“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”
You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.
“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”
You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.
But he would stop just short.
“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”
“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”
He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”
“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”
He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.
The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.
“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”
“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”
He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.
All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”
“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”
His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”
“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”
“...My name’s not Miguel.”
Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.
You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”
It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.
At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.
Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.
After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.
You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.
You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.
Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.
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guccifrog · 1 month
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SHE🧸💸
chris sturniolo × f! reader the muwapgucci collab 🌺🍑 : in which matt and chris sturniolo are just two unexperienced losers @muwapsturniolo
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Now Playing 🌺🍑
[she- tyler the creator, frank ocean] 0:26 ———♡——— 3:50 ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷
"ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃˡᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵘʳᵇᵃᵗᵉ"
"FUCK!" Chris yelled as he slammed his fist against the desk, the veins in his neck bulging. He glared at the screen, where his character lay defeated on the floor. Matt and Nate were both grinning smugly on the screen. "It's not fair" he muttered under his breath.
"Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time playing you wouldn't lose," Nate taunted from the screen. "Come on, kid, you're letting us win on purpose, aren't you?" He teased, shaking his head.
Chris rolled his eyes at Nate's comment, not bothering to respond. He knew they were just trying to get under his skin.
He was convinced that the only reason he lost was because he wasn't familiar with the game Matt had suggested, he was sure that if it was a different game he would've kicked their asses. Why you may ask? simply because Chris was aware of the fact that he was a loser, it wasn't a secret that he spent most of his free time playing video games, instead of doing what other teenagers his age do. Chris was a nerd and he knew it. He didn't have many friends, he didn't go to parties, he never had a girlfriend, hell he never even got his first kiss.
With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his hand resting lazily on the mouse. As he opened a new window on his computer, looking for a new game to play, until Matt and Nate were done with their current match.
Suddenly, the computer glitches out, the screen flashing a blue color. "What the fuck?" Chris mutters, confused. He slammed the mouse against the desk, making the screen go completely black. But before he could do anything else, the screen turns back on.
"Hey, what's going on?" Nate asks from the screen, his voice filled with confusion.
"My fucking screen was glitching out!" Chris paused. "And then it just...turned back on."
"Just check the cables"Matt suggested, before going back to the game.
"Maybe I should," Chris muttered, leaning forward to inspect the cables connected to his monitor. As he pulled out the cables, one of them snags on something on his desk, causing it to swing wildly. He reaches out to steady it but accidentally clicks on a random notification in the corner of the screen.
"A stream? " he wonders, clicking on the link, curious to see who's streaming. He opens the window and The first thing he sees is a beautiful woman, her hair spilling down her back. A white oversized button-up barely covering her lacey black bra and a tiny black thong. Her long legs were crossed, one hand toying with a strand of her hair as she read the comments from her viewers. 
Chris's breath hitched as he recognized the familiar face, he had seen countless times in the back of chemistry class, or walking down the hallway. A pair of thick-framed glasses usually covered her eyes, She was the quiet girl that no one really paid attention to. He always thought she was weird, the way she dressed, and the fact that she never seemed to have any friends. she'd always be by herself, sitting in a corner, always with her headphones on, and as soon as the bell rang, she'd quickly disappear.
He rubbed his eyes, thinking maybe he was hallucinating. He still couldn't believe it. There she was, on a live stream. Her face was slightly flushed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she read through the comments. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. Her tits moved slightly as she leaned forward, her breath hitching as she laughed at something someone had said.
"by the way guys" her voice came through his headset like a whisper, "I ordered some new lingerie and they came today" She paused, giving her viewers a wink before continuing " I'm going to give you guys a special show " her voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down Chris's spine.
Chris felt his heart racing, his palms growing sweaty as he watched her. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was insane. She was going to do a show for them? A show? He didn't know what that meant, but it sounded dirty.
As he continued to watch, she reached up and slowly began to unbutton her shirt, making the whole process last for what seemed like an eternity. Her breasts, perfectly round and full, spilled out of her lacy bra, and she leaned back in her chair, giving the viewers a nice show. 
Chris's eyes were wide as he watched, his mouth going dry. he felt a strange mix of excitement and shame coursing through his veins. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching him, before returning his attention to the screen.
His eyes darted between the screen and her breasts, mesmerized by the sight before him. He felt his pants growing tight as she continued to tease her viewers, slowly sliding her fingers down her stomach, revealing more and more of her body. 
He felt like he was watching a dream, some sort of surreal experience that he couldn't wake up from. His heart pounded in his chest, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He could feel the warmth spreading through his body, pooling in places it hadn't before. He never felt this way before.
"Fuck" Chris muttered under his breath as her finger brushed against her panties. He glanced at Nate and Matt, who were still oblivious to what was happening, and back to the screen. He felt ashamed, this wasn't the kind of thing he should be watching, but he couldn't look away. Her hand slid further down, and for a brief moment, she parted her lips, a soft moan escaping her mouth. He bit down on his lip, trying to control the growing need in his pants, His heart raced as he watched her, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks as she closed her eyes.
"take it off?" She read a comment and chuckled before leaning forward even more" You guys know the rules" she winked, taking another deep breath as her fingers brushed against her soaked panties.
MILFPLEASER sent one thousand dollars!
Chris froze, his eyes wide with disbelief as he read the message on the screen. 
she let out a laugh, a mix of surprise and delight. "Goodness," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well if you insist..." Her gaze flicked up to meet the camera for a brief moment before darting away again. She moved her hands to her waistband, slowly sliding down her panties, revealing her smooth, wet folds. A gasp escaped her lips as the cool air of the room brushed against her. Her face flushed with excitement, as she bit her lip, trying to steady her breath.
Chris couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was beyond anything he had ever imagined, and his throat felt tight. He glanced down at his pants, wondering if he'd be able to maintain his composure for much longer.
As she continued to tease the viewers, she moved her hips back and forth, rocking her body in time with the sensation. Her breasts swayed with each movement, and her eyes were half-closed, lost in the pleasure. Chris felt like he was intruding on something private, but he just couldn't look away.
His hips jerked forward as he watched her, his breath coming in uneven gasps. He could feel the blood rushing to his crotch, faster and faster, making it hard to think straight. He glanced at Nate and Matt again, but they were still oblivious.
Her movements were hypnotizing, and Chris felt himself growing harder with each passing moment, that it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, to relieve the ache building up in his crotch, but he was afraid Nate and Matt might notice. His gaze darted between her and his friends once again, What would they say if they found out he was watching this? Would they think he was weird? Perverted?
She slowly got up from her chair, her movements smooth. She turned her back to the camera, her long, shapely legs coming into view. With one hand, she reached down and picked up a piece of clothing from the floor. She turned around, revealing her bare behind to the screen, humming along to the sound of Agora Hills by Doja Cat playing softly in the background.
She raised her arms above her head, the piece of cloth dangling from one hand, it was a pink, lacy thong. Her movements were slow and deliberate, her tits swaying with each breath. She lowered her hands, teasingly, letting the thong slide between her legs, using her hands to pull it up.
Her back arched as she stepped into the thong, pulling it up her legs, and adjusting it until it sat perfectly on her hips. She turned around, facing the camera again, and let out a contented sigh. "what do we think?." She giggled, running her fingers through her hair.
Chris reached his limit. He couldn't take it anymore. His pants were unbearably tight, and he was afraid he might lose control. Without thinking, his hand snuck down to his crotch, his palm pressing against the bulge in his pants. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he pulled his aching erection through the fabric, finally free. He stroked himself slowly, trying to find some relief from the unbearable tension.
He bit his lip, afraid he might make a sound as he continued to stroke himself. His hips moved involuntarily, mimicking the motions he had seen on the screen before. He glanced back at Nate and Matt, still focused on the game, but he could feel his head spinning. The tension was building up inside him, making it hard to focus on anything else.
The girl on the screen continued to tease the viewers, moving her hips suggestively as she talked about the thong. Chris's hand moved faster and faster, his grip tightening on his aching erection. He felt like he was on the verge of climaxing, but he couldn't afford to lose control. Not here, not now.
"Chris?" Nate's voice snapped him out of his trance. He groaned glancing over at his friend, who was looking at him with a mix of confusion and concern. "You okay, man? You've got the weirdest look on your face."
He was screwed. There was no way he could come up with a believable excuse for why he was jerking off on call. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck as he looked at Nate and Matt, his face burning with shame. "Uh... yeah I just hit my hand while checking the cables." He lied, forcing a weak laugh. "It's fine."He managed to say, His hand still working furiously beneath the desk.
"Oh, okay." Nate nodded, looking a bit unconvinced but letting it drop. "So, uh... wanna play another round ?" Chris glanced back at the computer screen, where she was now sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg casually slung over the side. Her hair fell over her shoulder, and she batted her eyelashes at the camera as she talked about her favorite lingerie pieces. She was looking right at him as if she knew exactly what he'd been doing. Her lips curved into a knowing smile.
Chris felt his face flush even deeper. "I'm not really feeling it, I have to go to the bathroom," he lied, pulling his hand away from his crotch and trying to hide his erection. "Why don't you play another round with Matt?" He stood up abruptly, making his way over to the door.
 As he walked to the bathroom. He glanced around, making sure no one was in there, before slipping inside and closing the door. he tried to steady his breath and calm his racing heart. He leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths and willing his erection to go down. The image of the girl on the screen, teasing him with her body, was burned into his brain. He wanted nothing more than to go back in there and finish what he started. But he knew he couldn't.
He let out a long, shaky breath and straightened up, trying to regain some semblance of control. He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, wobbling between sanity and complete, overwhelming desire. The image of the girl kept creeping into his thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
His hand made its way back to his crotch, desperate for relief, but he stopped himself. He forced his hand back down to his side. This wasn't like him. He wasn't some pervert who jerked off in front of his friends. He was better than that. He took another deep breath, trying to push the image of the girl out of his mind. He glanced at himself in the mirror, seeing the flush in his cheeks and the wild look in his eyes. He took a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his head. 
Watching her felt like a pill, and he was helpless to resist. The need to touch himself was overwhelming, but he forced his hand to stay glued to his side. He couldn't believe he was acting like this. He was usually so in control of himself, but she had him completely undone. He wished he could just forget about her, but she was burned into his mind, her every movement etched into his memory.
How did this even happen? Chris thought to himself as he sat down on the bathroom floor. He remembered finding the link and clicking on it out of curiosity. It had seemed innocent enough, just a girl from his class talking about her favorite lingerie. But He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen, he couldn't resist the urge to touch himself as he watched her.
what's worse, was the fact that she wasn't just some random girl on the internet. She was the weird girl from chemistry class that everyone seemed to forget about, no one ever paid attention to her before, she was just there. But now, she was the center of attention. And it was driving Chris mad. He couldn't get her out of his head. He knew he should just ignore her, forget about her just like before, but he couldn't.
He felt like a creep like there was something wrong with him. He felt like he was stalking her, and watching her every move, wanting to touch her in ways he shouldn't. It was unhealthy, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. She was like a drug, and he was addicted.
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