beyond-the-prologue

[beyond-the-prologue]

okay, but now all I can think about is a roommate!Remus fic where he and reader are both quieter and find comfort in each other. Would you ever consider writing something like that?

Omg I love this dynamic (I am them)

roommate!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 567 words

When Remus comes inside, he exhales a big breath. You can still hear his friends out on the street, loud voices and louder laughter. Just hearing them makes you more confident in your decision to stay in tonight. You love hanging out with your own friends, and you can enjoy a lively evening, but there are times when you simply prefer the quiet of your little home. You and Remus are alike that way. 

“Good night?” you ask him, looking up from your book. 

“Long, but good,” he agrees. He toes off his shoes, setting them neatly by the door. As he straightens, his eyes snag on the plate in your lap. “Is that lasagna?” 

You smile, tilting your chin towards the kitchen. “There’s some in the microwave for you if you’re hungry.” 

“You’re a godsend.” Remus looses another exhale, though this one sounds more relieved than weary, reaching over to set his hand on the top of your head in thanks before going to get it. It’s a small touch, but it warms you down to your bones nonetheless. 

Remus is a bit odd that way. Sometimes he reminds you of a cat in the ways he shows his affection; brief, kind touches and fond looks in lieu of words. Once you learned how to interpret his signals, they became impossible to ignore. 

You go back to your book. A few pages later you distantly register Remus coming into the living room again, but you don’t look up until he sets a cup of tea on the coaster in front of you. 

“Thanks,” you say, picking it up as he settles down beside you. His book is where he left it earlier, folded over the arm of the couch, and he holds it in one hand as he forks a piece of lasagna with the other. 

“Thank you,” he says back, toasting you with the fork before putting it in his mouth. 

“Course.” Your voice is soft, a result of both atmosphere and disposition. You start reading again, but it’s difficult to ignore the proximity of your roommate. 

Both of your pages turn with little sound, nearly keeping pace with one another, and outside the ruckus of nighttime gives way to the tranquil chirping of crickets. As Remus reads, his weight lists towards the middle of the couch. You’re curled up on the opposite side, and his hip is nearly touching your bum. When he reaches over to set his empty plate on the coffee table, his elbow brushes your thigh. 

You’re in the middle of a chapter when he says something. 

You look over. “Sorry?”

Remus smiles. “Did you have a good night?” 

“Oh, yeah, you know,” you hold up your book, shrugging, “quiet.” 

To anyone else, you might be a tad embarrassed to admit this. But Remus, you know, will understand. 

He nods, smile taking on a knowing twist. “I’m jealous,” he says. “I let James talk me into thinking I was in a mood to go out, but I’d rather have been here with you.” 

Foolishly, the with you seeps into your insides, warm as your honeyed tea. He probably didn’t even think about saying it. He only means he’d rather have stayed in. 

“Well, you’re here now,” you say lamely. 

Remus only exhales again, a happy sigh, and sinks back against the couch. His hip presses to you. “And better for it.”

[beyond-the-prologue]

Since we’re thinking about roommate AUs… ⛄️ with roommate!Remus and the prompt “uh, yeah- i took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. sorry.”?

these two awkjfahiarhfawg -> the winter games

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who acted in self-defence [804 words]

CW: landlords, it's very cold, fluff

Remus - though undoubtedly upset on his own behalf - was thoroughly devastated for you when he got home to find the flat nearly just as cold as it was outside. At least he got to spend his day in the warmth of the office; you were off today, and from the sniffles coming from the living room on account of your no doubt cold bitten nose, he knew you were home.

“Is this sodding radiator still not working?” He grumbled in way of hello as he hurried into the living room - coat, mitts, hat and all - to investigate. 

“No! Don’t touch it!” You shouted from the certifiable nest you’d made out of pillows and blankets from the entire flat. 

“Why not? It’s already not working; I hardly see how trying to fix it can make it any worse.”

“Yes but right now it’s the landlord's problem; if you go busting it in an attempt to fix it, we’ll be getting the bill.”

And damn the scenic yet ancient building the two of you called home, and damn your negligent landlord no doubt cosy with his own working furnace and perhaps even an operational fireplace in his warm flat, but mostly damn you for being so smart and so right and so cute. 

Remus let out a sigh and stood to face you. “Well, what have you been doing to stay warm all day then?” 

You pursed your lips as you looked around the flat. “Well, I was trying for cosy vibes with holiday movies, I lit candles mostly for ambience but there’s a part of my brain that insists the temperature rose at least one degree in response, and hot cocoa.” You finished your sentence by lifting the mug in your hand.

“I appreciate the effort, but I have a feeling that the cocoa is the only effective strategy at this point.” 

You smirked at him as you lifted the many blankets off of your lap and made to stand. “I’ll go make you one.”

You were just about to step behind the couch when Remus’ hand involuntarily shot out and grabbed you by your elbow. “Hang on.” Remus laughed accusatively. “What are you wearing?”

Remus had the feeling you were aware you’d been caught as you took a moment to consider your answer before slowly pivoting on your sock-clad feet, smiling at him bashfully. 

“Erm, yeah…I took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. Sorry.” 

But Remus didn’t release your arm and you didn’t appear to expect him to; staring him down for a beat before you deflated with a theatrical moan. “Fine. I’m layered, okay!? Is that what you wanted to hear?!” And with this, you pulled the waistband of Remus’ sweatpants that you had needed to roll numerous times away from your hips to expose another set of your own thick sweatpants underneath them. “And underneath these sweatpants are a pair of leggings. I had tried putting two pairs of my own sweatpants on, but it was too tight and the feeling of losing circulation only left me more cold so yeah, I went back into your room after already hijacking your bedding and helped myself to a pair of sweats. Okay? But any grievances will need to be taken up with my attorney, Rem, because I am cold and it was self-defence!” 

You paused abruptly then; a heat now evident in your face as you panted, and he only hoped that the heat was a welcome reprieve from the cold. 

“I’m cold.” You repeated quite pathetically, and Remus couldn’t help it anymore. He laughed. A big, deep, belly-aching laugh. 

“Oh, oh god, my poor girl.” He managed between laughs, reaching out and pulling you towards him by the shoulders; you swayed into him all too willingly, burrowing into him greedily even though he was sure his jacket was still cold with the fresh winter air. “M’so sorry you’ve been so cold.”

“You should be.” You whimpered into his chest, clearly chuffed at getting the sympathy you’d been looking for. “I’m very cold.”

“I bet.” He agreed, rubbing a few stripes up and down your back before pulling away from you; he could actually see you mourn the loss. “How about you make me some cocoa, and I’ll go change into comfies and meet you in that nest of blankets; we can pool together our resources.” The resource was warmth, but you clearly understood that when you went all but flying in the direction of the kitchen.

“Make haste, Lupin!” 

Remus wasn’t ashamed - not even a little - at the speed in which he ran to his room to change out of his work clothes and into his comfies, grabbing another one of his jumpers to throw in the dryer for you.

What? Your outfit obviously wasn’t complete without a matching jumper.

[beyond-the-prologue]

hey elleeeee

could i pretty please do 🐻 the sharing a bed prompt, “cuddling in their sleep” + “waking up with their faces centimetres apart”. with remus but theyre not together just pinNING for eachother and this happens.

consider it done

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who cuddle for warmth and that's totally it [641 words]

CW: fem!reader, Remus sort of pining, but maybe it's not one sided!?!?, fluff, sort of a continuation from this post

Remus thinks he should perhaps feel a little guilty having taken advantage of the current situation; his original offer certainly hadn’t been a selfless one. 

Was the flat sodding freezing? Yes, it was. Would he have been up worrying all night that you’d died of hypothermia in your own bed? Absolutely. Was it indeed warmer having consolidated every blanket and pillow the two of you owned into one bed and sharing body heat to stay more comfortable? Damn right it was. 

But, it was because of all these aforementioned reasons that Remus felt it was perhaps a touch unethical to be enjoying his current situation as much as he did. 

The two of you were gripping each other’s hands and arms as if you were both afraid the other would simply float away had you not been holding on for dear life. The soft, cloud filtered light bathing your face in its glow; your head resting on one of his pillows he hoped to god smelled like you, now, that was but a few measly centimetres away from his own face. 

He found himself nearly holding his breath as though he was afraid to disturb the peace of this moment, one that he'd been fighting against yet secretly yearning for since he realised how much he enjoyed your presence; perhaps a bit too much to be simply considered roommates, or even just friends. 

He catalogued the way your eyelashes fanned from beneath your closed eyes and kissed the tops of your cheeks, fluttering ever so slightly when something would happen in your dream. He revelled in the way that you seemed to be smiling, even in your sleep; your lips relaxed and pursed ever so slightly as you breathed through your nose. 

Your nose - it was stupid and foolish and silly, but fuck - he loved your nose.

And this might well and truly be the one and only time he got to enjoy you like this, so sue him for what he did next.

He hardly had to move at all, really, he simply pushed his chin forward so that his nose bumped into yours. He was checking, you see, because he knew his nose was cold from the cool air surrounding your nest of pillows and blankets and body heat, but he needed to see if yours was too. He couldn’t in good conscience sit here and admire your nose if you were about to lose it to frostbite, now could he? 

Remus found himself smiling at the fact that your nose, for whatever reason, was slightly warmer than his. Good, he thought, I’d like her to keep her nose. 

“You’re supposed t’be sleeping.” You blurt rather suddenly for Remus’ tastes, still never opening your eyes as Remus rears his head back, though you strengthen your hold on his hands and arms so that he can’t actually move away from you.

“How long have you been awake?” He accuses you instead of admitting he was being a creepy fuck and watching you sleep.

You don’t answer him, though. Instead, you let out a languid stretch before releasing your hold of his hands in favour of wrapping your arms around his torso and slotting yourself against him; legs tangled with his and your nose - colder than the skin of his collarbone - pushing into his neck as you tucked yourself under his chin. 

“Go t’sleep, Rem.” You order him, tightening your hold around his chest as he allows his arms to cautiously encircle you in his own embrace; one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, and the other cupping the back of your head lovingly. 

He didn’t follow your order, unfortunately. But he did spend the rest of the morning wondering, hoping, nearly begging the universe that perhaps this might not be the last time he gets to enjoy you like this.

[beyond-the-prologue]

could i please request best friend sirius x reader with no boundaries? <3

Hi anon! You didn't respond to this post, so I went ahead and used it for the Who's That Girl au, hope you still like it <3

cw: nonsexual nudity

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The shower in your flat is finicky. There’s a very precise balance to be struck between the two faucets to ensure the water is neither glacial nor magmatic, and having only just dragged yourself out of bed, you’re nearly falling asleep as you fuss with them. By the time you step under the perfectly-warm spray, it makes you let out a blissful sigh. 

You get approximately two minutes of that before it suddenly turns scalding hot. 

You make a wounded yelping sound, pressing yourself against the wall. “What the hell?” 

“So’rry,” comes a garbled voice from beyond the curtain. 

Instinctively, your arms wrap around your chest. You’re so shocked it takes you a second to relocate your voice. 

“Sirius?” 

“Hm?” 

“What are you doing in here?” 

“M jus’ bru’in my tee’,” your flatmate replies in the same unruffled tone. You translate this to I’m just brushing my teeth, which explains why it sounds like he’s currently talking through a mouthful of foam. 

You stare at your audience of various shower products in bewilderment. The water hitting your knees has returned to a withstandable temperature, but you stay cowering against the far wall. It doesn’t feel like you can simply resume your shower with Sirius just on the other side of the curtain. 

“Do you have to do it right now?” 

“We’, I have to ge’ to ma’beh in tir’ty min’us to mee’ ma’ee, so whe’ else ‘m I s’pos to use my own ba’room?”

“What?” 

This time, you hear the bathroom door open. “He said,” James explains helpfully, “that he has to meet our friend Marlene at Mackbear—that’s a coffee shop in Whitechapel—in half an hour, so he doesn’t know when else he’s supposed to get in here.” 

“Oh.” You cup your slippery boobs in both hands, feeling vulnerable. “Um, thanks James.” 

Sirius also makes a toothpaste-y noise of gratitude. 

“Anytime.” 

Tentatively, you begin shampooing your hair again. You hear Sirius spit in the sink. 

“Step out of the stream,” James warns. You obey, and you hear the sink’s faucet squeak just before your water turns hot again. A few moments later it’s back to normal. “We have one of those showers that freaks out whenever someone uses the sink. Remus explained it one time—something about the flat not having pressure balancing? I don’t get it, but it’ll happen when the toilet goes too, so be careful.” 

“Thanks,” you say again, hoping with all your heart that no one ever uses the toilet while you’re in the shower. Is this a guy thing, or a Brit thing? It’s your first time living with both, so it seems plausible it could be either one. 

“I’m not convinced Rem actually knows what he’s talking about,” says Sirius, his voice now clear. “Fairly sure he just looked it up online and now pretends to be an expert. Hey, doll, I think I left my face wash in there last night. Pass it to me?” 

“Uhh.” You look at the shelf of products. “The blue tube?” 

“That’s the one.” 

“Just a second.” You rinse the rest of the shampoo from your hair, grabbing the shower curtain to ensure you’re covered before reaching out with the face wash in hand. “Here you go.” 

“Thanks.” Sirius steps away from the sink, taking it from you. 

You narrow your eyes. “Is that my shirt?” 

“Hm?” He glances down to the grey top he has on, just short enough on him to show a cheeky slice of abdomen. “Oh, yeah.” 

You wait for an apology or a do you mind?, but Sirius only goes back to his station in front of the sink. James seems similarly unphased. 

“Turning the water on again,” Sirius says, hardly giving you any warning before twisting the faucet. This time, the water hitting your bum is icy cold. 

You jolt and press closer to the curtain to escape it, nearly tripping out of the shower just as Remus comes in. 

“Oh.” His steps falter as his eyes catch on you, your torso held so tightly against the shower curtain it’s likely making an impression. He blinks and quickly moves his gaze away. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was…what are we all doing in here?” 

“Getting ready, obviously,” Sirius says, patting his face with a towel. 

“I’m waiting for the shower,” says James. “Hey, y/n, would you mind if I peed really quickly?” 

You’re too appalled for politeness. “Yes.”

James seems bemused by this, but he shrugs. “Alright. I can wait.” 

Remus is looking between the three of you, a notch forming between his brows. “Did you tell them they could come in?” he asks you, seeming to already have guessed at the answer. 

You shake your head mutely. 

He levels James with an admonishing look. “What are you two thinking? Get out of here, let’s go.” 

“What?” Sirius looks affronted. “Why?” 

“Because y/n is trying to shower.” 

“I have to be in Whitechapel in—” Sirius glances at his phone “—twenty-five minutes. She can shower just as well while I fix my hair.” 

“I don’t really need to explain this to you.” Remus temples his hands against his forehead. “You’re invading her privacy. We all are, right now.” 

“But, Moony,” James looks genuinely perplexed, “there’s only one bathroom. We share all the time.” 

“This is different.” 

“What, because she’s a girl?” Sirius shoots him an unimpressed look. “That’s sexist. You’re discriminating against her.” 

“Jar,” Remus says sternly. “Five quid.” 

“What? I’m only telling the truth! Y/n” —Sirius turns to you— “don’t you feel discriminated against?” 

What you feel is very, very warm. You probably could just turn the shower faucet to cold at this point and not worry about it. “By Remus?” you ask to be sure. “No.” 

“Do you feel invaded?” James asks curiously. 

“I mean…” You shrink. “A little?” 

He looks contrite. 

“Let’s go,” says Remus, waving them out. James goes first, Sirius following more slowly seemingly just for spite. “Sorry,” Remus mumbles, looking everywhere but at you as he shuts the bathroom door. 

Even when they’re out in the hallway, you can still hear Sirius’ grumbling. “If she’s not being discriminated against, I certainly am. I pay rent for that bathroom!” 

“That’s ten quid in the wanker jar. Now.”

[beyond-the-prologue]

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

remus lupin x reader

word count: 2k

summary: A slow morning finds you and Remus witnessing yet another debate between your coworkers and a very perceptive Moody calling you out on your shared editing process. 

tags: fem!reader. coworker remus! doses of daily life. more bits of media agency and office jargon expected from this fic. slight nuisances to lovers jilypad. modern au. 

a/n: coworker remus has me in a chokehold, that’s all. those are my notes. enjoy! xx

…

Remus watches from his periphery as you quietly munch on a biscuit, headphones hanging loosely around your neck as your wide eyes curiously flicker from Lily to James as they have yet another debate in the middle of the office. He’s trying very hard to appear busy as well, but when James criticized her extremely organized brainstorm system, he muted his headphones and paused his project entirely. 

A funny, tingling feeling takes up most of his chest at the sight of your lips trying very hard to not tug up at their senseless spat. 

“After years, you’d think she would stop taking the bait.” He whispers and you jump slightly. When a shy, pinkish hue takes up your cheeks, he only smiles indulgently in your direction. “You’re quite alright, hardly any work can get done with all this ruckus.”

“I heard that, you toerag!” Lily calls out. 

You raise your shoulders sheepishly, as if Lily could ever raise her voice at you, but Remus still feels his smile widening at the sight. 

From the other side of your desk, James groans loudly. “Would you stop scaring off the newbie, Evans?”

“Me? Aren’t you the one flapping around like a headless chicken?”

“We were hired the same day, James.” You say simultaneously, though less fiercely. 

At your input, Sirius’ head pops up from his own desk, “You lot already managed to drag y/n into this?” He tsks loudly, shaking his head. “Absolutely no shame.”

“I was just stating a fact.”

“You agree with Evans, then?” Sirius raises his eyebrows at you, there’s a hidden glint of mirth in them that has you regretting even opening your mouth.

Lily closes her mouth and turns to you, finger still mid air pointing at James. 

“I do, actually. Her brainstorm system has saved our arses many times before.” You nod, and her face breaks in a triumphant smile. At this, you and Remus share a look, then you smirk at him in a way that makes his heart do a funny flip. “What do you think, Remus? We ought to have a mediator.” 

“Remus doesn’t count.” James gripes, crossing his arms. You don’t miss the way Lily’s eyes travel down quickly to his flexed biceps. “He enjoys contradicting me, I’d even say it’s his favorite thing to do.”

He gasps in mock surprise, “How’d you know?”

“Then he does count.” Lily counters with a smirk, James only groans. 

“Then the game’s uneven!” Sirius calls out, standing up from his chair with a flair. The notepad in his lap flying over at the sudden movement. 

“What game, Sirius?“

“You’ve got two people rooting for you! Who’s rooting for dear old Jamesie?”

“Right. Of course.” Lily nods with a dry chuckle, her tone taking a little edge. “You’ve come to defend your boyfriend, I forgot.”

It’s almost cartoonish the way Sirius and James flush visibly at this comment. You open your mouth in surprise at the revelation, even though it had been an ongoing wager between you and Remus, their chemistry seemingly palpable to everyone but them. You share a quick look with Remus again, who simply raises a knowing eyebrow at you. 

However, as perceptive Remus is most of the time, you’re sure he misses the way Lily very faintly furrows her eyebrows and her eyes rove over the two boys. An unexpected, almost fleeting upset look passes over her face, red lips perfectly lined pursing slightly like whatever thoughts her mind is concocting are bothering her more than she lets on. 

“Why aren’t you working?” 

You snap into action as Moody enters the office with his signature scowl, eyes scanning over every single one of you almost manically. Sirius takes long strides back to his desk, while Lily and James both scramble to appear nonchalant by the coffee maker. 

To your rotten luck, his mad-looking eyes fall on you as the silence stretches on. Remus watches as your hand twitches nervously over your keyboard, wide eyes watching as Moody walks to your part of the office, almost tripping by all the kinds of equipment you and Remus had been inventorying the first hours of your shifts. 

“Good morning.” Remus says tentatively with one nod, you smooth over like butter at the sight of his long bangs falling over his eyes at the movement. “We’ve the final cut you requested for the Ravenclaw FC spot. Dumbledore said you need to approve before sending it over to them.”

“I’ve seen it, and I got some notes.” Moody nods, finger absentmindedly tapping over the top of your monitor in a rhythm that sounds similar to your erratic heartbeat. When he turns to you, it only gets louder with anticipation. “Marvelous work, y/n, I really appreciated your emphasis on the teamwork shots, however, I was asked that we need more singular shots of… certain players.”

“Of course.” You nod eagerly, almost launching yourself across your desk to reach for your notepad. Remus bites back a fond smile. “I will contact the assistant manager to check availability for the players. Which ones?”

“Just one. Barty Crouch Jr.” 

“Fucking great.” Remus whispers very low, throwing his head back in resignation. “Again? Haven’t we photographed him enough?”

“A bloody peacock, that boy. You know how he needs to have a camera on him at all times.” Moody sighs like he, too, is anticipating a headache at the prospect of dealing with the Ravenclaw FC star player. “He requested y/n specifically, though.”

You, for your part, seem to be too busy to listen to the first half of their exchange, until you look up at their eyes piercing through you. James whistles from his desk and you try very hard to not blush at the sudden attention falling on you. 

“Me? But he’s never seen my work.” You mutter meekly, hand fiddling with the biscuit wrapper in your hands. Remus wordlessly holds his hand out and you pass it to him. “Didn’t Remus photograph him the last time?”

“Yes, but he saw what you did for Rosier’s shoot and wants something similar.” Moody shrugs, “Anyhow, I’ve got it handled already. You ought to head down to the stadium sometime next week with Remus, Sirius will coordinate the shoot. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Of course,” You breathe out with a faint frown. But you manage to recover quickly under his gaze. “When’s the deadline?”

“No deadline for now. They only need some reserve content for the future season, but the sooner we get that done and move on with the next clients, the better.” He drums three times at your desk before nodding curtly. “That’ll be all for now. I’m afraid this belongs to Dumbledore’s folder so send all the content and updates to him. Oh, and y/n?”

“Yes?”

“During the editing process,” He says, and you nod fervently as you reach back for your pen and notepad to write down his ideas. “Refrain from CCing me when you’re flirting with Remus, please.”

“I– What?” You almost shriek and James lets out a boisterous laugh. Remus throws your discarded wrapper to his head, his own cheeks taking up a crimson hue that only makes him laugh harder. “We weren’t–”

Moody only smirks at you, “I’m only taking the piss, y/n. You’re quite alright.” You deflate, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips in a sharp exhale. “But do remove me from the CC’s  with Dumbledore. This falls under his realm of clients.”

“Yes, of course.” You say in a high pitched tone, watching with a wide eyed gaze as he nods and walks to his own office. 

You sit back in your chair with shock, your mind just barely catching up with your heart. James’ laugh continues echoing through the office, and with a wince, you listen as Sirius adds on little comments to make him laugh louder. Lily sends you a sorry look over her own monitor but you know she’s biting back a giggle at your flushed cheeks and parted lips. 

You chance a look at Remus, who seems too busy writing down in his own notepad to notice all the ruckus Moody left behind. Lily winks at you when you look up, and you feel your cheeks heating up even more as her email chat pops up on your screen with a message full of kissy emoticons. You sink deeper into your chair and put your headphones back on to drown out your friends laughing at your expense, their taunting chuckles only growing in significance when they catch the longing look Remus sends your way when you’re not looking. 

Just as they seem to calm down and move on to the next victim, Marlene walks in with Peter in tow, her clipboard tucked under her arm as she pulls over the mail cart behind her. 

“Hiya, losers.” She calls out with a radiant smile, which only widens at the sight of James’ shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “Oi, have you lot finally lost your minds? What’s happened– Wormy, you’re hitting my ankle.”

“Oh, sorry.” Peter says distractedly, arms expertly reaching for the parcels that might belong to any of you. “This one’s for you, James.”

“Thank you, Wormy.” James manages to wheeze out, pushing his glasses up to clean at the tears under his eyes. 

“Marls, you– you should’ve seen their faces.” Sirius calls out in a less elegant manner, not having any qualms to tame down his laughter. 

“Whose faces?” She asks with a funny smile. When Peter hands her a parcel with Remus’ name, she only reaches over to dangle it in front of his monitor. 

“Oh– Hi, Marls.” He says with a curious tone, Marlene quirks an eyebrow in response. 

But when her eyes land on your equally blushed cheeks, a look of realization passes over her face. She lets out a low, knowing chuckle, winking in your direction and making a mental note to sequester you to answer all her questions when you get home later tonight. 

As Peter continues delivering the corresponding parcels, Marlene paces around the office looking, for all intents and purposes, very bored by this aspect of her job, but she strategically walks over to the coffee maker with a question at the tip of her tongue. Lily almost immediately pulls her close to her desk with green eyes full of mischief. 

“Update me, Lils. How’s my wager going?” Marlene whispers as she lowers herself to crouch down between Lily and Sirius. 

“I’d say you start paying up, McKinnon.” Sirius singsongs, his grey eyes glued to his screen but his face breaking out in a wide smile. 

“Right, as if.” She snorts, then turns back to Lily with a raised eyebrow. “What happened? Did that tosser finally ask her out, or…?”

“Better.”

Marlene’s eyebrows almost raise to her hairline, “Better?” Both Lily and Sirius nod eagerly. Their shared annoyance for each other momentarily paused in favor of gossip. Marlene gasps. “Did they shag in the inventory room?”

“Not that better.” Sirius rolls his eyes.

“Snogged?”

“Alright, maybe you’re getting a bit too ahead of yourself, Marls.” James supplies quietly, trying very hard to appear busy making himself a coffee. 

“Out with it then! I haven’t got the time.” 

“Moody said they spend the entire editing process flirting via emails.” Lily giggles, “He’s seen all of it, those idiots cc’ed him in all their conversations.”

She parts her lips in surprise. “You’ve got to be joking.” 

The three of them shake their heads, each of them trying very hard to not let out their laughter. Marlene raises her head to look over Lily’s desk at Remus sitting silently, too engrossed in his work to notice them, and you trying very hard to appear interested in whatever Peter is explaining to you. 

“I say we up the prize.” 

Sirius scoffs. “Absolutely not.”

“Oi, this is going to take an eternity!” Marlene argues, “The least we can do is make the prize worthy.”

They all turn back to your and Remus' shared desk, watching as he stares at your back while you talk very animatedly to Peter about something, completely unaware of his eyes studying you over with something akin to longing.

Sirius sighs with resignation. “Fine.”

[beyond-the-prologue]

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬

remus lupin x reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: Just another morning in the Hawkings Agency Offices. Shy glances, unexpected meetings and mindless taunting between work crushes. 

tags: fem!reader. coworker remus!!!! doses of daily life. bits of media agency and office jargon, slight nuisances to lovers jilypad if you squint. very vague mentions of toxic job environment. modern au.

a/n: this was so fun to write! btw it may or may not have been a bit self indulgent of me, so i apologize in advance. writing for coworker remus was so lovely, ill probably end up making this a series in the end, just you wait. as always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated, enjoy!! xx

…

“You’ve got to be joking.” 

Remus looks up from the equipment he’s busying himself cleaning to find you once again having a one sided beef with the time checker. He bites back a humorous chuckle as you push at the office door like it would miraculously let you enter. Like your dignity hasn’t already been severely compromised, the coffee thermos nearls slips off your hand as you rush to your desk. 

“Morning,” You mumble, hurriedly putting everything down. 

“Morning.” He echoes almost immediately as a reflex, then lays back in his chair to look up at you. “No good morning?”

“That bloody thing is out to get me.”

“Right,” He nods, finger absentmindedly fiddling with the camera tripod he had been inspecting. Amber eyes full of fondness as he watches you settle down next to him on your desk. “He’s got a personal vendetta against you and it’s decidedly not because you keep cursing it on the daily.”

“He?” You raise an eyebrow, “Of course that thing is a he, only a male would get on my nerves this early in the morning.” 

This time, he has no qualms in holding back his laughter. The sound rich and throaty that brings a few chuckles out of you and a faint pinkish hue to your cheeks, Remus’ laughter echoes throughout the office like a sweetener to your early morning sour mood. 

James’ head pops up from behind his own monitor one desk over, hands readily bringing down his editing headphones to join in on the conversation. 

“Did the checker give you trouble again?”

You sigh, mirroring Remus’ stance by laying back in your chair. “Of course your noise cancelling headphones don’t work when it comes to laughing at me.”

“I’m not!” James calls out indignantly, but by the way Sirius snickers next to him, his attempt fails almost immediately. “Oi, you twat, shut up!”

“Good morning, babe.” Lily says as she enters the office, all smiles and pristine outfit as she makes her way to her own desk across from yours. “Don’t let these hypocritical tossers get to you, I caught a hilarious glimpse of Sirius tripping and dropping his lunch at the parking lot today.” 

“Evans.” Sirius frowns, yanking a piece of paper from his notepad to throw at her. “You promised!”

“I did not promise a damn thing to you.” She shakes her head resolutely, then sends a wink your way. “Be glad I haven’t emailed everyone with the video I took.”

Sirius answers with a string of profanities you’re sure he’s only getting away with because Moody, one of your bosses, hasn’t gotten in yet. You share a knowing look with Remus as Lily answers with a few crude comebacks of her own, and you two begin your everyday routine with their passionate debate as background noise. 

“Any plans for the weekend?” Remus asks nonchalantly, trying very hard to drown out the sound of his heartbeat ringing in his ears. 

“Not really, no.” You mutter distractedly, eyes focused on your screen as you open all the editing programs you use daily. “What about you? Any plans?”

When you swivel your chair to face him, Remus scrambles to pretend he hadn’t been shamelessly staring at the side of your face. You only smile, your own heart absurdly skipping a beat at the tip of his ears a crimson shade of red despite his overgrown hair hiding them for the most part. 

“Oh, you know,” He unconsciously moves his mouse around as he very pointedly avoids your curious gaze. “I’ll probably end up staying in all day. Or go for a walk if I’m lucky.”

You open your mouth to speak, but then Moody storms in, making a beeline to the conference room. Remus watches as you unconsciously shrink down in your chair, eyes following the path he walked from the door with a hidden glint of anxiety he still hasn’t gotten the courage to ask you about. 

The ting of your phones interrupts the tense atmosphere, each of you hurriedly reaching for them to check whoever broke the silence in your office group chat. 

SB: wtf was that???

LE: You think he also fell down in the parking lot?

JP: he prob got into a row w the time checker as well

Despite your growing anxiety, you feel the corner of your lips tugging up. 

YN: oi dont drag me into this!

SB: what is it with u 2 taunting the newbies?

SB: haven’t u got any shame???

SB: >:(

RL: sirius, you’ve been working here longer than all of us combined.

LE: And work on your grammar.

Moments later, Dumbledore and McGonagall step into the office in a less tense manner, each with coffee holders and tight-lipped smiles that has every single one of you scrambling to take your notepads and step into the conference room much like students going into their form room first hour of the morning. 

You let a relieved sigh leave your lips unabashedly when Remus sits by your side, but the tension of your shoulder blades visibly increases as you watch Moody scanning each of you with a face devoid of any emotion. Countless doomful scenarios pass over your face, leg bouncing uncontrollably under the table and its movement growing momentum as the silence stretches on. 

“Hello.” Dumbledore finally says, clearing his throat as he places the holders in the middle of the table. “We’ve brought coffees for everyone seeing this meeting may run a bit longer than we’re accustomed to.”

Sirius, much in character, is the first one to reach over and grab one. Lily rolls her eyes but mirrors his action, shyly passing James his own cup when she settles back in her seat. You, for your part, seem too consumed in your own spiraling to even realize any of this until Remus places the carton cup in front of you. 

“Thank you,” You say very quietly, Remus’ answer comes in the form of a dimpled side smile. 

Moody clears his throat, “The quicker we begin this, the better. We’ve got tons of damage control to discuss today.”

“Damage control?” Lily echoes, her tone indicating the growing anxiety you are currently trying to hide over the rim of your cup. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing worth the dramatics,” McGonagall says from her own seat at the head of the table, eyes very pointedly sending Moody a warning look. “It has come to our attention that Riddle’s agency has once again stolen one of our clients, that’s all.”

“What?” Sirius almost shrieks, coffee immediately forgotten as he leans over. “Who?”

“The details are not important right now, what happened has already happened and there’s nothing we can do to change it.” Dumbledore says calmly, you watch as Moody makes a show of rolling his eyes at the statement. “Lily, how are we on that Weasley proposal?”

“Done and ready for you to stamp the go.” She answers readily. “They’ve already signed the contract and will send us their available slots for Remus and y/n to head out and film all the footage.”

“Very well.” He nods approvingly at this. To your utter horror, he turns to you. “y/n I have already checked the edited footage you’ve filmed for Ravenclaw FC. It was rather brilliant, the shot of Evan Rosier scoring the winning goal was beautifully executed.”

Remus feels an overwhelming sense of pride taking up most of his chest at your red cheeks and sheepish reaction. Lily winks at you from her side of the table with a similar look of joy to the one he surely has on his face.

“However, I didn’t notice that specific shot in the approved script Sirius wrote. Did the team representatives know about that one change?” He adds, and all the shyness seems to evaporate from your body to make room for your anxiety. You nod your head slowly, almost fearfully. “Excellent. Though I wish you could let me know beforehand for the next time, yeah? You’re very talented, but I fear not every client will share our keen eye for artistic takes.”

“Yeah,” A surprised exhale pushes past your lips, but you recover quickly. “I mean, thank you. Yes, I will let you know beforehand. I’m terribly sorry.”

McGonagall sends you a kind smile, almost like she, and everyone else in the room, could sense the pure unadulterated anxiety radiating off of you. 

“You’re quite alright.” Dumbledore smiles, then turns to his right. “Sirius, how did the meeting with Flourish and Botts go? Did they approve of the storyboards and scripts?”

Sirius nods fervently and goes on explaining all the specific details off his notepad, James chimes in here and there at certain questions your three bosses ask and the conversation stretches on the entirety of the creative meeting. You go awfully still and very quiet, trying extremely hard to appear interested in everything your coworkers are explaining, but your mind is obviously somewhere far away. 

Remus’ eyebrows furrow slightly when he catches the sight of your hand trembling very, very faintly when you reach out for your cup of coffee. Something that could pass unnoticed for the untrained eye, but he’s shared a desk with you for almost two years now, and has spent countless hours after work with you editing and shooting footage, to notice the little changes of your stance. He’s sure it could go both ways, especially in the way you’ve brought all kinds of calming teas during one of his flare ups before he could even complain about them. 

When Moody stands to indicate the meeting is over, Remus pushes down the urge to reach over and hug you at the way you deflate in your chair. He watches as you organize all your notes and stand up to make a beeline back to your desk, Lily sends him a questioning look as you pass by in a rush. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” James says as soon as it’s only you in the office. “Did anyone else feel their balls up their throat back there?”

“God, James. We’re still in an office.” Lily chides in faux disgust, then nods rigorously. “But yeah, that was rather intense. You think they got into a row before getting in?”

“Probably,” Sirius shrugs, swiveling back and forth in his chair. “But Moody has always been a proper twat so I couldn’t put it past him to just be in a bad mood.” 

“Losing clients has always been a delicate thing for him, though.” James says between bites of his protein bar. Lily smiles fondly despite her best efforts to hide her face behind her monitor. “Good thing he took it out on Dumbledore, though.”

“And good thing Dumbledore only knows how to channel his stress by giving out free compliments.” 

“Well, aren’t you lucky?” Sirius turns to you with faux jealousy, but then sends you a wink and his face breaks out in a smirk. “I told you he’d love that. You got worked up over nothing, love.”

You flush visibly. 

“Sirius.” Remus chides, and Lily takes this in stride. 

“You’re one to talk, seeing it’s all your fault. Was it too hard to send an email?” She crosses her arms with a scowl, James leans over with picked interest at their second round just that morning.

As Sirius calls out a very controversial comeback, you turn to your monitor to begin working on your daily tasks. Remus wets his lips nervously, foot pushing his chair from left and right as he scans you over with a mouthful of comforting words at the tip of his tongue. 

“You alright?” 

You nod shortly, “Yeah, sorry.” You nod again. “I don’t know what happened there. I’m sure I looked like a wimp.”

“What?” Remus frowns, “Of course not, if anything, I’d be worried if you hadn’t been nervous. Moody can be a bit intimidating sometimes.” 

You let out a strained chuckle, almost like you forced it out. “I know,” He watches as your hand raises to massage your sternum, surely to calm down your loud heart. “It’s just– I’m not used to receiving feedback that way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Back in my old job,” You wet your lips nervously before continuing, “Feedback was always a bit… intense.” 

Remus immediately understands your meaning, and his heart cracks painfully as he replays the passing comments you’ve said here and there from your old job. Even remembers your roommate and shared friend, Marlene, constantly complaining about the hell that was your previous boss. He watches with a twinge in his chest as you try very hard to focus on the screen of your monitor, hands busy searching for your hard drive inside your backpack and eyes avoiding his perceptive gaze. 

He sighs and reaches for his drawer, hand expertly digging inside for the pack of sealed sweets he has yet to open. When you lean back in your chair, face more relaxed than minutes ago, your eyebrows pinch faintly at the sight of your favorite chocolate sitting patiently over your keyboard. When you look up, Remus is already scrambling to put on his headphones to begin working on his own daily tasks, but your heart turns mushy and soft at the sight of his red cheeks and his shy, almost imperceptible smile. 

[beyond-the-prologue]

Golden Era (1991-1998)

The Bane of Snape's Existence by @ellecdc

[beyond-the-prologue]

Harry Potter

Golden Era (1991-1998)

Marauders Era (1974-1980)

[beyond-the-prologue]

Genuinely love this, sick of being lovergirl sometimes, sometimes wanna be petty

the bane of Snape's existence

fem!reader who accepted a position as Hogwarts newest Professor returns to her old stomping grounds to harass Snape into an early retirement [reference to readers 'husband' but ship is left ambiguous. clearly someone Snape hates so could very well be any marauder's era character]

CW: 481 words, based off of this chat from anon! Snape being terrible with children as is canon

With one last flick of his quill, Severus levitated the finally graded potions essays into a neat pile and magiced them to sort themselves into the filing cabinet. 

“I swear I can still smell Lockhart’s failed invisibility potion from fifth year.” A familiar voice drawled, causing Severus’ entire body to tense. “Thought you’d have done something about that by now, Snape.”

Severus forced himself to straighten and turn to face you with an air of flippancy he certainly didn’t feel. 

“I’m surprised the bricks of this old castle didn’t simply crumble in fear as you walked through the door.” 

You snorted inelegantly at that. “I figured my chances were fair seeing as no harm has come to you, yet.” 

Severus didn’t miss the emphasis you placed on yet.

“What are you doing here, L/N? Or should I call the auror’s to report a witch loitering on school grounds?” 

“Oh come now, Severus, there’s no need to make it weird.” You spat, the first sign of that fire in you beginning to roar as you narrowed your eyes at him. “The children have more to worry about with the likes of you here than they do me. Tell me, how many of those essays did you give a Dreadful?”

“I assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said as he lifted his nose at you.

You smirked; knowing. “And how many of those Dreadful’s belong to Gryffindors?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to exit my classroom, L/N.” He tried then, going for arrogant authority. 

“Fine, but I'll have you know that I’m only leaving because I can’t stand the smell of Lockhart’s failure.” You chuckled, slowly making your way back towards the classroom door. “Oh! I almost forgot to mention-“

Severus let out a humourless laugh at that. “Oh? Something you’ve just been dying to fill your old classmate in on?”

“- my husband has rented a flat down in Hogsmeade.” You continued with a predatory smile as though Severus hadn’t said anything at all, though the wizard felt all of the blood leave his face as you finally stepped over the threshold of the room. “So I’m sure you’ll be seeing an awful lot of him around too.” 

He continued staring at the empty doorframe long after your figure had left it, wondering if he had enough saved up to quit this job and move. Perhaps Durmstrang was hiring…

“Professor Snape?” A cautious hufflepuff asked, startling him from his stupor and alerting him to the fact that he had a room full of 3rd year ravenclaw’s and hufflepuff’s waiting for their class to start. 

“Do the lot of you not have enough time to stare at people on your own time? Get your ingredients ready for wiggenweld potions.” He barked, stealing one last look at the vacated doorway as he made a mental note to look up job listings for potioneers. 

[beyond-the-prologue]

Stranger Things -

Series - ✨, Oneshot- ⭐

Steve Harrington

Come Home, authored by @stevie-petey ✨

The Shape of Family, authored by @skeltnwrites ✨

Three Christmas Wishes, authored by @maroon-cardigan ⭐

Eddie Munson

bsf!Eddie ✨, by @rebelfell

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[beyond-the-prologue]

﹂come home (s.h.)

"come home to me, okay?" "always," steve promises. in between saving will, then hawkins, then somehow the world, you fall in love with steve harrington. (a stranger things rewrite).

﹂pairings: steve harrington x henderson!reader, slight jonathan byers x reader

﹂contains: fem!reader, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers (reader more just pities steve), cursing, miscommunication, unrequited love, angst, protective older sister chaos, violence in the later seasons.

﹂blurbs

﹂playlist

﹂jonathans mixtape for bug

﹂season one

﹂season two

﹂season three

﹂season four

⌑ status: ongoing

⌑ main masterlist

[beyond-the-prologue]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most.

dad!steve, gn!reader, early 90s, coworkers to lovers, tooth rotting fluff

part one

part two

part three

part four - coming december

[beyond-the-prologue]

three christmas wishes | steve harrington x fem! reader

summary: every christmas your worst costumer grants you a wish, and every christmas it surprisingly comes true.

enemies to friends to lovers | no use of y/n | no mentions of specific race, hair type or body type.

word count: 8k

warnings: NO SMUT. right amounts of angst and fluff. some daddy issues, general swearing, smoking cigarettes & a creepy coworker.

author’s note: hello loves!!! i’m so so happy to be back this december. here’s the first of my christmas one shots for the christmas collection. ♡ let me know what you think !! x

[dividers: @cafekitsune & @issysh3ll]

December, 1983.

There’s so much one can learn about a person by the kind of gifts they buy. This was a truth you learned on your first week working at the gift wrapping pop-up at Starcourt.

It had been your dad’s idea, to teach you a lesson about character and discipline after being found drunk and making out with a boy on Halloween night.

He had considered many kinds of punishments for your behaviour: sending you to Florida to live with your grandparents for a while, enrolling you on a private school, taking your car until the summer. They all sounded much better than finding you a job where you had to wear this ridiculous elf costume and learn the monotonous task of wrapping presents.

Hawkins was a small town, everyone knew each other, and you were almost certain that people were enjoying your father’s punishment a bit too much. That, or maybe you were just surprisingly good at the job.

‘Hey.’ Said your boss, Mike, who was dressed as Santa Claus. ‘They’re calling for you again.’

You were standing in the stockroom with your arms crossed, the back door open so the smell of the cigarettes you shared wouldn’t reach the costumers.

‘Again?’ You complained as you were about to take the first inhale.

‘Seems like you’ve found your vocation.’ He said taking the cigarette from your hand and putting it on his lips. ‘Go. I don’t pay you to smoke.’

‘Uh, you don’t pay me.’ You scoffed, walking backwards towards the shop with a smile of satisfaction on your face. ‘Starcourt does.’

The enjoyment didn’t last too long anyways, since your smile fell off your face as soon as you saw your least favourite costumer waiting at the counter.

‘You again?’

‘Hey, Jinglebells.’ Said Steve Harrington with a sided smile.

Your eyes lingered on the little cigarette behind his ear as he placed his shopping bags on the counter, before you shot him a look full of despise.

‘I expected a bit more of joy coming from Santa’s little helper.’ He joked, pointing at the bags with his chin. ‘Get to work.’

‘Why don’t you get fucked.’ You said under your breath as you started to take the presents out of the bags. A pink mug, probably for his mother, a box of handkerchiefs for Mr Harrington…

‘What’s that, Jinglebells?’ He said as you took out the pink box from Smith’s jewellers. Your eyes lingered on the expensive packaging for a few seconds, stroking the padded surface of the box.

‘I said, why don’t you take a free candy cane while I work.’ You said, distracted.

‘M fine, thanks.’ A few seconds of silence passed between you before you felt a peppermint scent surrounding you, your eyes finding him leaning on the counter. The heat inevitably rushed to your cheeks as you saw the way he looked from your absurd work uniform to the box. ‘You like it? Open it.’

And you did, out of curiosity, lifting the thin lid to reveal a beautiful silver necklace with a heart-shaped lock. On its surface, in the most elegant cursive font, the initials NW were engraved.

Oh.

‘So?’ He was smiling widely when you looked up at him. The most idiotic, sweet smile you had even seen on his jerk face. ‘Do you think she’ll like it?’

‘I didn’t know you and Nancy were back together.’ You closed the box carefully.

‘Yep.’ He simply said before tapping the counter with his index fingers. You took another look at him while you started to unroll some wrapping paper, he was trying so hard to hide his smile, to repress the excitement overflowing his eyes as he placed his arms on the counter again. ‘About two weeks ago.’

‘Huh.’ You simply said before you started cutting the paper. Engrossed in the task, you couldn’t get rid of a certain image off your head: Jonathan Byer’s car parked outside the Wheeler’s house last night, and a couple of nights before that.

‘Can you use the silver paper for the necklace?’ Steve asked, bringing you back to reality. ‘The one with the snowflakes, and I’d like some pink ribbon ‘round it too.’

You stood behind the counter for a second with a perfectly cut piece of green wrapping paper on your hands, before you grabbed the box of handkerchiefs and started wrapping it.

‘Sure.’ You simply said.

You worked in silence for a few minutes, wrapping the other presents first as your mind was still filled with memories from two weeks ago, when you saw Jonathan inside your pretty neighbour’s room through your window while you dried your hair.

It wasn’t a big deal at all, Nancy had seen you make out with guys in your room before too, embarrassment falling on her curious eyes when you moved from someone’s lap to close the blinds behind you. She had seen you sneak out on Halloween, the night that had cost you your Christmas break, when you were supposed to stay home studying. Your eyes had found hers from where you hid in the backyard, and you feared for a second that she might tell someone, until you saw her zip her lips in a promise.

‘I’m gonna go get a coffee.’ Mike’s voice made you jump. ‘Do you want anything?’

‘Uh, no. ‘I’m f— Shit.’ You had to take your finger to your mouth at the sight of blood, another papercut to add to your collection of work incidents.

‘Again?’ Mike said lifting his eyebrows before lowering his voice. ‘You know, sometimes I think you just like to suck your fingers in front of me.’

His insinuation made you take a step aside instinctively, feeling your cheeks getting hot by the unexpected comment.

‘Well, I don’t.’ You said cleaning your finger on your skirt.

He laughed softly as you went back to work, your eyes avoided Steve’s face, who observed the awkward interaction from the other side of the counter.

‘You’re cute sometimes, you know?’ Mike said then. ‘Do you have any more cigs?’

You shook your head.

‘You took my last one.’

‘Well, I get more for both of us.’ He winked at you then. ‘See you later.’

You kept working without acknowledging the incident as the bell rang once Mike crossed the door, only the sound of the scissors cutting the paper and the Christmas music that came from the speakers filling the awkward silence.

‘That guy’s a creep.’ Steve voice made you even angrier somehow. Something about him standing there like an idiot boiled your blood. Worse, it made you feel even more powerless.

‘He just has a little crush on me.’ You shrugged as you finished with the box of handkerchiefs.

‘Isn’t he like thirty?’ He asked. You couldn’t help but clench your jaw when he leaned on the counter again, and his stupid peppermint cologne surrounded you. ‘That’s creepy.’

‘I guess it is.’ You said moving to the pink mug.

‘Shouldn’t you do something about it?’

‘Shouldn’t you get your mom a proper gift?’ You said cutting some tape. ‘Like a silk scarf or something?’

‘A mug is a very appropriate gift.’ He shrugged.

‘Yeah, for a first-grade teacher.’ You said cutting some ribbon. ‘She got you something cool, you know? I wrapped it for her. Why can’t you get her something nice?’

‘Wow, jinglebells, relax.’ He said putting his hands in the air, somehow that made you flushed and nervous, like you were making a complete fool of yourself. ‘Just because your boss likes you all bitchy doesn’t mean you need to act the same with costumers.’

‘Excuse me?’ You said as you put the wrapped mug aside before grabbing the scissors.

‘Put those scissors down.’ He pointed a finger at you.

You took the necklace box and the guilt you felt before had suddenly turned into anger. He was amused, looking at you while you measured the stupid silver paper and cut the ugly pink ribbon with your clenched jaw and your cheeks on fire.

‘You know Nancy and I are neighbours.’ You said casually as you finished tying the bow.

‘I’m aware.’ He said in the same tone. ‘Why is this relevant?’

‘No reason.’ You shrugged as you arranged the freshly wrapped presents on the counter. ‘She just likes to watch me sometimes, you know? Through the window. It’s kinda creepy, actually.’

You licked your lips before pushing the presents towards him.

 ‘Tell your little girlfriend I’ve been watching her too.’

Steve stood silently on the other side of the counter, looking at you with sudden seriousness overflowing eyes. You stood straight, looking back at him, and for a moment you thought maybe he knew what you were talking about. Maybe there was a part of him that already suspected something, but you would never know.

‘W-What does that mean?’ He asked carefully.

You looked down to your hands for a second, the thin papercut still there but not bleeding anymore. Somehow your anger had been replaced by some deep sense of pity towards Steve Harrington.

‘I wish you a Christmas full of revelations, Steve.’

He hesitated for a second, maybe thinking about saying something, before nodding and taking the wrapped presents. You stood on your place as he walked out of the shop, the sound of the bell ringing behind him echoed through your mind until your shift ended.

December, 1984.

Starcourt had its charm. Or maybe you had just gotten fond of it after your first Christmas working there. The smell of pine that came from the giant decorated tree, the old ladies that met every day in the food court to have lunch together, the kids and their colourful knitted sweaters…

It all filled you with tenderness and nostalgia as you silently wrapped presents and longed for a childhood that would never come back. You needed to find happiness somewhere, anywhere these days, because everything seemed so melancholic and fleeting that sometimes it was unbearable.

‘There you go.’ You said giving the little girl behind the counter the freshly wrapped present. ‘All pink and red, just how you asked.’

‘Thank you!’ She hugged the big box as she took quick small jumps. ‘Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! My mom’s going to love it!’

‘I’m sure she will.’ You said with a soft laugh, placing your chin on your hands as you heard the sound of the door’s bell. ‘Just be careful with it, you don’t want to break the pretty picture, do you?’

‘Oh.’ She stopped jumping. ‘Right. Thank you, Miss Elf.’

You let out a snorty laugh before you started cutting new pieces of tape for the next costumer. A tall brunette, dressed in a sailor uniform with shorts that looked like they belonged to a seven-year-old.

‘You’re welcome.’ You said before your eyes fell on Steve.

‘What’s up, Jinglebells?’ He stood in front of you when the little girl left, placing a couple of bags on the counter. You stood silent, with your hands on either side of the counter as you looked back at him. ‘What?’

You still kept silent, a funny smile forming on your face as he stood there with his hands on his hips, you could see he was getting a bit flushed and frustrated and that amused you even more.

‘Are you really gonna make me say it?’ He said rolling his eyes. ‘C’mon. Get to work.’

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the wall behind the counter as your eyes still didn’t leave his. Steve took his hand to the bridge of his nose, before taking a deep breath and licking his lips.

‘Ahoy, sailor.’ He said shaking his hands in the air before placing them on the counter. ‘Better?’

‘How many times have you said that today?’ You tried to repress a laugh as you stood in the same position behind the counter.

He sighed.  ‘About sixty-two. Happy?’

‘Very happy.’ You said standing straight as you had a look at the bags. ‘What do we have here… Let’s see.’

You smiled to yourself as you had a look at the new set of walkie-talkies that you assumed were for Dustin Henderson. You’d never admit it out loud, but it was kind of sweet how much the kid looked up to Steve, it was nice to know the affection was mutual. Then you bit your lip at the sight of a silk scarf, very pretty and with wonderful flower patterns. It could’ve been for anyone, really, but something inside you hoped it was for his mother. And finally, you took out a paperback book with a golden bookmark inside.

‘The price of salt.’ You smiled to yourself. ‘I didn’t know you were a Highsmith enthusiast.’

‘Uh, I’m not— I just— I don’t know.’ He seemed nervous out of sudden, hiding his eyes from you for a second before looking back at you. ‘Is it good?’

‘Yeah, it’s good.’ You said smiling to yourself as you cut some more pieces of tape to wrap all the presents. ‘Silver snowflakes and pink ribbon?’

‘Uh, if you want to.’ He said, placing his hands on the counter while he watched you work.

‘You know she was here before.’ You said as you started to wrap the book delicately.

‘Huh?’

You looked up at him, with his stupid sailor uniform and his frostbitten cheeks and you almost smiled at him kindlier that you would’ve done a year ago. Steve had fallen from grace, but now he was much pleasant that he had ever been, so were yourself. Sometimes life breaks you in irreparable ways just so the light can find a way out, and some people managed to illuminate others despite the fractures, despite the wounds. Maybe one day that’d be you.

‘Your girlfriend.’ You said cutting some of that pink ribbon he had liked the year before. ‘She came here to beg me to tell her if her gift was as good as yours.’

His lips opened partly at your words, and you smiled shyly as you secured the bow on top of the present, putting it aside before you took the walkie-talkies’ box.

‘Jesus, Steve. Relax.’ You laughed at his blank expression as you started wrapping the box. ‘I told her you had bought her something just as good. But that means maybe you need to get something extra. Her present’s really good.’

‘R-Robin’s not my girlfriend.’ He stuttered before swallowing hard. He seemed to recover his confidence then, leaning over the counter with a smile on his face. ‘Like, everyone thinks she is, but she’s honestly not.’

You were not surprised by his flirty tone as you put Dustin’s wrapped present aside.

‘I see. It’s none of my business, anyways.’ You said leaning in before you lowered your voice. ‘But she has this pretty cute charm bracelet, and I heard Smith’s doing a surprise sale tomorrow at five forty-five just for half an hour. Don’t tell anyone I told you, though.’

Steve was about to open his mouth to clarify the situation once again when Mike’s red and white figure appeared at the sound of the door’s bell.

‘Do I pay you to flirt or to work?’ He said walking behind you. Steve’s eyes lingered on the way you discreetly pushed yourself against the counter to avoid even brushing his stupid Santa Claus costume, but Mike didn’t even look back at you as he walked towards the stockroom.

‘You don’t pay me.’ You said under your breath as you took another sheet of wrapping paper. ‘Starcourt does.’

But your boss didn’t say anything as the door closed behind him.

‘What the fuck is up with him?’ Steve whispered as you started to wrap the silk scarf. ‘Why’s he speaking to you like that?’

You looked towards the stockroom before leaning in subtly to keep your voice low.

‘He’s mad at me because I refuse to go out with him.’

‘What?’ He exclaimed a bit too loud.

‘Shhh.’ You whispered, pulling his stupid little red sailor tie. ‘Shut the fuck up. Jesus, he can hear you.’

‘This is fucked up.’ He whispered, his chocolate mint ice cream breath stroked your face as you looked back at him. How funny you had never noticed how pretty the brown in his eyes was.

‘It is fucked up.’ You said in the same tone.

‘You need to quit, Jinglebells.’ He said very seriously before his eyes filled with flirty mischievousness. ‘D’you have any sailor costumes at home?’

But you couldn’t laugh at his joke, looking down before your hands fell from his tie and resumed the work of wrapping the scarf.

‘I can’t quit.’ You admitted softly as you cut some more paper. 

‘M sure if you tell your dad what this creep’s been trying to do, he’ll understand.’ He insisted. ‘I can help you find a job, if you want to, it doesn't have to be—’

‘Steve.’ Your irritation was palpable as you stuck the ribbon over the wrapped present a bit too harshly. ‘Don’t press it. My dad has more important things to think about right now.’

‘I doubt it.’ He scoffed. ‘C’mon, what’s more important than the only daughter he has?’

‘Apparently another family, if you must know.’ You snapped.

He stood there for a few seconds, thinking about what to say while you looked away. But the more he waited, the more desperate you felt. For once, Mike did something smart, something remotely good, and walked back to the front of the shop.

‘Break time. C’mon, get lost.’ He said to you before looking back at Steve. ‘Are you paying card or cash?’

You took the opportunity to sneak out of the awful situation and walk back to the stockroom, feeling the tears pooling on your eyelids and you thought about some place where you could find peace. Somewhere you could escape from this sense of defeat that was slowly eating you alive, but more than anything, somewhere where Steve Harrington’s pity couldn’t reach you.

All wrapped in your coat and scarf, you walked out through the back door to sit down against the wall that faced the desertic employee parking lot. You took a deep breath, fighting the need to leave without finishing your shift, or to leave Hawkins and never come back. It had been months since you had stopped smoking, but ever since your dad gave you the news you had fought the feeling of coming back to the awful habit to deal with your unbearable anxiety.

It shouldn’t have taken you by surprise when you saw the Harrington’s maroon car stop in front of you through your tears. Once upon a time, Steve used to drive through your street almost every day, trying to get Nancy Wheeler back in that so pathetic way only a teenager in love can. It was strange to see his car somewhere else that wasn’t outside that doomed house.

‘Get in, Jinglebells.’ His face appeared through the open window. A sad smile on his lips, and kindness overflowing from his brown eyes. ‘We’re going for a drive.’

You bit your lip as you tapped your foot on the pavement ground, unsure about what to do.

‘C’mon.’ He insisted. ‘I’ve got milk and cookies.’

You let out a scoff-like laugh as you looked back at him with your arms still crossed. You were about to tell him you didn’t find his joke funny, but when he moved to open the passenger door for you, you realised he wasn’t lying. Over the console, there were two humming take-away cups and a pack of chocolate-chip cookies. Rolling your eyes, and feeling your stomach growl, you had no other option than to get in and secure your seatbelt.

This part of the plan had sounded so much better inside Steve’s head, it had sounded so much better coming from Robin’s mouth, who insisted he needed to do something to fix this, and quickly, before it was too late, whatever that meant. Now you two were driving around Hawkins, wearing those stupid uniforms and trying to fight the unbearable awkwardness between you two.

‘I’m sorry, by the way.’ He said when he drove past the school, the sight of snow and naked trees making the atmosphere in the car much sadder.

‘I don’t want to talk about it, by the way.’ You said in the same tone, taking the humming cup of warm milk from the console.

‘Jinglebells.’ He said seriously as the landscape turned whiter and more desertic as you left the town behind. You laughed sarcastically at the absurd and overly corny nickname, used in such a serious and sad context. ‘I’m sorry, really. And I’m pretty sure things with your dad will get better eventually.’

A few seconds of silence passed between you as he kept driving and you felt more anger in your chest, bitter tears at the back of your throat, the feeling that you might lose your voice because of how much you wished to say. Instead, you took a long sip of your warm milk.

‘Tell me about your dad.’ You said after a while.

‘Huh?’ He asked as his eyes kept focused on the road in front of him.

‘Tell me about your father.’ You insisted, moving to your side so you could have a better look at him. A petty smile adorned your lips, but his eyes didn’t linger on it, instead he just observed the way you had crossed your legs on the seat. ‘Why didn’t you get him a Christmas present this year?’

Steve took a deep breath, looking at the side mirror as he kept driving and his knuckles turned slightly whiter as he held on to the wheel. Your eyes stayed on him even when he started to go a bit faster than before, as if you had touched a sensitive subject, as if he wanted to leave Hawkins behind too.

‘That’s what I thought.’ You said before sitting back on your seat, your eyes focused on the snowy image on the window before you couldn’t stand looking at him anymore.

‘S complicated.’ He said after a while.

‘Well, it always is, isn’t it?’ You said to yourself as your eyes took in on the gorgeous picture of Lover’s Lake in the winter. All impersonal, and cold, and yet still beautiful.

‘He’s just ashamed of me.’ He said. You looked back at him while he still looked at the road, taking his hand to his mouth as if he was thinking to himself. ‘I mean, no father dreams of a son who spends his senior year embarrassing himself by chasing the same girl over and over again in front of an obnoxious town. Like what kind of idiot chooses heartbreak over a college scholarship, you know?’

You looked back at him as he took a deep breath, parking in front of the snowy shore before he turned the engine off.

‘You had a scholarship?’ You asked softly as you undid your seatbelt to sit closer to him.

He still didn’t look at you as he stretched his arm to turn up the heating. Your eyes lingered on his face as he shrugged, looking so young and yet so old and beaten at the same time.

‘I could’ve.’ He admitted to himself. ‘I know I could’ve. That’s kind of the hardest part to accept.’

You bit your lip before hugging yourself over your coat. A few snowflakes were falling and melting on the windscreen, the sight of the lake so still and peaceful.

‘He’ll forgive you.’ You finally said, but he started shaking his head and you leaned in to search for his eyes, but his pretty brown pupils seemed to too full of shame and disappointment.

‘I doubt it.’ He admitted with a sad smile. He took a deep breath before looking back at you. ‘He doesn’t even look at me during dinner, you know.’

You smiled sadly too, the atmosphere turning a bit awkward between you two as you took one of the cookies and broke it in two halves. He took the half you offered him absentmindedly, and you bit yours as you looked through the window lost in your thoughts.

‘They always forgive, you know.’ You said after a while, thinking about last year, when you father had sent you to Starcourt. That seemed so far now, as if it was a different life. ‘Why do you think I’m insisting on throwing a tantrum right now? He deserves to suffer a little bit, but he’ll get over it. And so will I, I guess.’

‘S different.’ He shook his head before taking a sip from his warm milk, his eyes hard turned shy again. Or maybe there was something else behind that serious frown that was adorning his face now. ‘He’s got no right to abandon you.’

‘Neither does your dad.’ You said softly. The warmth in the car and between you filled you with a sense of safety your mind had probably forgotten, but your body had not. When he looked back at you, something childlike took over you as you moved closer to him, something pure, maybe protective.

‘I had never thought about it that way.’ He murmured. You gave him a soft, kind smile full of compassion, and he seemed to understand too, laughing softly before his eyes lingered on your face. ‘Thank you, Jinglebells.’

You shrugged, satisfied. Unable to move, but not really sure if you had the right to touch him, to give him the comfort you two so obviously needed that sad afternoon of December.

‘There’ll be better Christmases.’ You said to him, your eyes falling on the space between you before you thought to yourself. ‘I hope. I wish. And… I don’t know. One day the world’ll be kinder. Maybe.’

You saw him nod from the side of your eye before you looked back at him. His eyes had turned softer, a bit hooded and his cheeks seemed a bit pinker than usual. You offered him another shy smile, with maybe some pity behind, and he swallowed hard before his head fell against the headrest.

‘There will be, Jinglebells.’ He assured you with a sad smile. ‘M sure there’ll be.’

December, 1985.

‘Steve’s here to see you.’ Said Max from the stockroom’s door while you searched for more rolls of tape in the closet. You had heard her before she walked in though, the adorable sound of her elf’s costume announced her arrival every time she moved.

‘Oh, nice. I’m starving.’ You said with a smile as you gave her the rolls of tape. ‘Would you mind moving these to that basket over there? We got a big paper delivery coming this evening and I’m trying to get some space.’

‘Sure.’ She said walking towards the back of the stockroom. The bells shaking softly when she turned back quickly. ‘Wait, you’re coming tonight, right?’

‘Of course.’ You said softly, looking at the way she seemed suddenly worried. ‘I wouldn’t miss it.’

‘Cool.’ She said visibly more relaxed before she walked away. ‘Cool.’

You laughed to yourself as you took a roll of red wrapping paper and walked back to the front of the shop.

He was standing on the other side of the counter with his hands resting on it, a soft burgundy sweater underneath his Family Video vest. He smiled as soon as his eyes fell on you, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture.

‘Hi, Jinglebells.’

‘It’s Mrs Claus now.’ You corrected before putting your hands on either side of your red and white dress and posing briefly. ‘You better get used to it.’

‘Nah.’ He shook his head, leaning subtly over the counter. ‘Doesn’t seem right.’

You rolled your eyes, ‘Where’s my lunch?’

‘Ouch. What am I, your employee?’ He scoffed before placing a little box on top of the counter. ‘I actually brought this so you can wrap it for me.’

This time you were the one who scoffed in disbelief. ‘Wow, talk about exploitation.’  

He smiled at the way you mocked him, taking the box of guitar accessories before you started to cut some red paper.

‘You didn’t tell me you got Eddie as your Secret Santa.’

‘Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I forgot.’ He shook his head. ‘S been stressful.’

You stopped the wrapping for a second, looking at the purple shade under his eyes and pushing Eddie’s present aside for a second.

‘You seem tired.’ You said tenderly, your hand found his over the counter for a second and you leaned in subtly to have a better look at his face. He had blushed subtly, but you could see the way his shoulders relaxed at the physical touch, wondering when was the last time you’d given him a hug. ‘Do you wanna talk? I can leave Max alone for a few minutes.’

‘No.’ He shook his head, his finger brushing your hand on the counter as you nodded. ‘S just, you know, this whole internship thing got me a bit nervous lately. I haven’t been sleeping very well.’

‘M sure you’ll do great.’ You reminded him from the thousandth time. ‘Enjoy your last few days working with Robs. And remember to get me that Rear Window tape? Please?’

‘As if you’d let me forget.’ He lifted his eyebrows. You let out an offended laugh, resuming your wrapping, and feeling Steve’s sweet stare still on you. You could see him entwining his hands over the counter as you kept working, comfortable silence falling between you. ‘Who did you get?’

‘Hmm?’ You felt the blood rush to your cheeks quickly.

‘Who did you get? For Secret Santa.’

‘Uh, Nancy.’ You said, taking a step back to look for some green ribbon under the counter. You flexed your knees a little bit as you kept searching, hoping that Steve wasn’t reading too much into your weird behaviour. You weren’t a good liar. Not when it came to him, at least. ‘I got her a Cocteau Twins album.’

‘Oh.’ He said before nodding. ‘That’s good.’  

‘Yep.’ You said cutting some ribbon, a kind of awkwardness taking over the moment as you kept working.

‘It isn’t weird, is it?’ He suddenly said.

‘What?’ You jumped at his accusation, wondering if he had figured you out.

‘I mean, my ex-girlfriend, his boyfriend there, I don’t know.’

‘Oh.’ You felt your shoulders relaxing. ‘I mean, I don’t think so. Unless…’

He lifted his eyebrows, waiting for your words, but you didn’t feel so confident anymore. Looking down at the present once again, you tied the ribbon over it with excessive concentration.

‘Unless you still feel there’s still… something—’

‘Oh god, no.’ He stood straight. ‘No, no, I meant for you.’

‘Me?’ You asked instantly, swallowing hard before you took a step back. ‘What about me?’

‘Well, you knew about Jonathan, when Nancy and I were still together.’ He brushed his hair with his fingers as you stood in your place, looking back at him expectantly. ‘And now you’re my best friend, and like, things can get awkward. ‘Cause you also kind of hold grudges, you know. So, I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.’

You scoffed.

‘I don’t hold grudges. Especially not for you. Jesus.’

‘Bells.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Bells.’ He repeated your nickname patiently. ‘You still refuse to say hello to my dad.’

You shrugged.

‘Dads and I usually don’t get along. Like, look at my relationship with mine.’ You tried to joke, but apparently it wasn’t funny at all for him. ‘Besides, that’s not true. We made peace when he offered to fix my car.’

‘I fixed your car, dummie, you know that don’t you?’

‘I do.’ You recognised, thankful that you were able to put the subject aside. ‘But he made you do it, so we’re even now. Mr Harrington and I? Besties for life, if you ask me. Same with Nancy.’

You pushed Eddie’s freshly wrapped present towards him. A satisfied smile adorned your pretty lips as Steve looked down at you with the same scepticism from before.

Something inside you told you that he could see through you and that he had noticed the way you still exchanged one-word sentences with Nancy no matter how much efforts she’d put into building a friendship with you. She had tried it all: inviting you to her Halloween party, to movie nights at the Wheeler’s with the rest of the group, going Christmas shopping with you and Robin. And yet you still couldn’t do it. You couldn’t forgive her for what she’d done to Steve.

He observed you for a few seconds, as if he wanted to say something, and you waited. The warmth from before seemed to have disappeared, but you didn’t know when or why.

‘Okay.’ Was all he said before lifting a Wendy’s bag from the floor and placing it on the counter. ‘There you go, Bells.’

He took a step back, and you felt helpless, somehow. A bit embarrassed too, without knowing why, as if he knew you were lying the whole time. It had been feeling like that for a while lately. Like everything you did around Steve was a lie. It was ruining your friendship. It was eating you alive.

It was sickening.  

‘Thanks.’ You said softly, with an attempt of a smile on your face. He barely returned the gesture, hesitating for a second before you spoke again, trying to go back to the usual fun atmosphere between you two. ‘We wish you the happiest of Christmas.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Company policy.’ You joked, but inside you were starting to hate yourself a little for your pettiness. You felt a bit annoying, too, your scalp suddenly turning warm and itchy.

‘See?’ He took a step towards the counter again. ‘You do hold grudges. I said something, you didn’t like it, now you’re annoyed at me.’

‘Okay, wait.’ You put a hand in the air between you as you laughed sarcastically. ‘How did this turn into an argument?’

‘It turned into an argument the moment you started lying to me.’ He placed a finger on the counter as he accused you. ‘You’re just— You’re making this weird.’

You scoffed, a bit annoyed at the way things had seemed to have escalated so quickly.

‘Making what weird? What are you talking abou—’

‘Us!’ He exclaimed. You swallowed hard at the way he said it, as if it was a bad word. And you didn’t know why it hurt so much, feeling so small under his stare out of sudden.

You took a step back, trying to search for his eyes, but he looked away from you before he shook his head.

‘Don’t be late tonight.’

‘Steve—’ You called as he started to leave, but he didn’t let you finish.

‘Oh. Right.’ He said sarcastically as he walked towards the door. ‘Merry Christmas.’

The sound of the bell behind him made it all feel so final, and so strange. You weren’t still sure what had you done wrong, or why he hated you all of sudden.

The noise of Max’s uniform made you look to your side, her eyes changing from happy to worried as they fell on your face.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ She said. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Uhm,’ You took your hands to your face before you realised there were tears on your cheeks. ‘Nothing, just a bad costumer. The worst kind, actually.’

The worst kind of Christmas too, you thought as you sat in silence on the couch of the Wheeler’s living room. Now, you had never been too anxious around Steve’s friends, but somehow this fight with him had left you wondering if you really fit in the group at all.

He had made you this insecure earlier, with all his talk about Nancy and Jonathan making you uncomfortable. You felt that you’d annoy Max by joining her conversation with Eleven and Lucas, given she had already spent the whole day with you. Eddie was funny, but he seemed to be too engrossed talking to Dustin, Mike and Will for you to spoil the conversation with your presence. You were too proud to try to talk to Nancy and Jonathan, and Robin had spent the last half an hour rambling to Steve while you avoided his eyes on the other side of the room.

At some point it was too much, and you excused yourself to go to the toilet, feeling your hands sweaty and your heart beating fast against your chest. In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cold water for what it felt an eternity, before you could gain the courage to go back there. You only had to face Steve once more and then you could get lost until the New Year’s at least, and then… then what? Was this all then? Was it over?

‘Hey!’ Nancy’s voice on the door made you jump before she knocked twice. ‘Are you okay there? We’re about to start exchanging presents!’

‘I’m fine.’ You said drying your hands on the towel. You opened the door to find her with an unusually wide smile on her face. ‘I’m fine, sorry.’

You followed Nancy back into the living room, feeling suddenly self-aware as you sat on your place between Max and Eddie. Your eyes lifted to find Steve’s already on you, the possibility of an apology was written all over his soft semblance and worried eyes, but you were too proud to entertain the tension. So, you looked away, feeling your heart breaking a little bit more every passing second that you didn’t know what was going on between you two.

‘Robin!’ Said Nancy then. ‘Do you wanna start?’

‘Of course.’ Said Robin standing up from her place next to Steve.

It all felt painfully slow, and the more you had to fake-laugh and smile, the worst you felt inside. It was merry and bright, and so achingly beautiful, how Robin laughed when Jonathan opened the box of reindeer-shaped sleepers that Mike got for him, and when Max jumped at the sight of a new set of tapes for her mixes that Eleven gave her. And yet you still felt so miserable inside, so exhausted.

You snapped out of your sadness when Nancy stood up to give Eddie his present, frowning at the image of the curly haired boy ripping the paper of the box you had wrapped earlier that day. You blinked a couple of times when Eddie took out the lilac-wrapped square of the Cocteau Twins album that you had also wrapped, your eyes lost on the pattern of the rug as you felt Steve’s accusing stare on you.

‘My, my, my.’ Said Robin looking from you to Steve. ‘Look what we got here.’

‘Seems like you two are the last ones.’ Said Nancy in the same playful tone.

‘Who would’ve thought.’ Giggled Max.

The heat rushed to your cheeks as soon as you realised you had been completely set up by his friends, who were more aware of your feelings than you thought, but absolutely clueless about the current situation between you and Steve.

‘Uhm,’ You stood up, feeling Steve’s stare still on you. His worried eyes, his arched eyebrows, and partly opened lips softened you in the most foolish manner. Everything felt so right and at the same time so wrong. ‘I’m just gonna get some air.’

You walked out of the living room feeling more ashamed than you ever had, the heat on your cheeks so unbearable you thought you’d might have a fever.

You’d never be able to show up your face in the Wheeler’s house again, you thought as you walked through the fence that separated the houses, not after this little spectacle, not after never being able to be friends with Nancy, but mostly not after leaving Steve just like that.

The coldness was starting to burn your cheeks as you sat on the little step that separated your house’s door from the garden, feeling embarrassed, and immature, and so incredibly confused about all of this.

The noise of the gate reopening made you look away, cleaning your cheek quickly and trying to repress the need of rolling your eyes at the way Steve was sighing.

‘You can be really proud sometimes, you know.’ He said, sitting down next to you.

‘If you came to my house just to insult me you can leave now.’ You said looking at the snowy backyard, at the navy sky, at the dark pine trees in the distance, anywhere that wasn’t him.

He scoffed, and then you saw him shake his head from the corner of your eye.

‘What’s going on, Bells?’ He finally asked.

You frowned, looking back at him wondering if he was being serious.

‘I could ask you the same question.’ You said irritated.

‘You’ve been so strange lately.’ His piercing brown eyes intimidated you, but you didn’t want to let him know that. ‘You barely call, you don’t hang out with me. You don’t tell me anything anymore.’

‘I could say the same thing!’ You lifted your voice as you sat straight. ‘I found out about your internship through Robin.’

Steve licked his lips then, shaking his head softly.

‘She wasn’t supposed to tell you.’ He murmured before rubbing his hands against each other to warm them.

‘Because you didn’t want me to know.’ You scoffed. ‘Wow.’

‘Because I didn’t want to disappoint you if I didn’t get it.’ He raised his voice, brushing his hair with his fingers. You couldn’t do nothing else than look away once again, feeling guilty out of sudden.

‘Hey.’ Your dad’s voice coming from the door behind you made you jump, you stood then, cleaning your cheeks quickly before looking back at him.

‘Shit, dad.’ You looked down as Steve stood up next to you. ‘You scared the shit out me.’

‘I thought you’d be at the Wheeler’s.’ He said before looking from Steve to you. ‘How are you, Steve? Is everything okay here?’

Steve’s eyes lingered on the apron your father was wearing before looking back at you.

‘I’m good, sir.’ He said with the plain tone he always used the odd few times he had spoken to your father. ‘How are you?’

‘Dad, can you just… leave?’ You said taking your hand to the bridge of your nose, feeling sweaty under all your layers out of sudden. ‘Please.’

‘Hmm.’ He said before looking from Steve to you once again. ‘Sure. Call me if you need anything, sweetie.’

‘Sure.’ You said in a sarcastic tone that Steve caught instantly, but your dad didn’t seem to. Not by the way he subtly smiled at you before closing the door.

‘…So, he’s living here.’ Steve said after a while.

You bit your lip.

‘He and mom are… trying again.’ You admitted softly. ‘Or something like that. I don’t fucking know. My sister’s coming for Christmas too.’

‘Wow.’ He nodded once. ‘Right. So, I guess you were on planning telling me this… when, exactly?’

‘Oh my god.’ You said with a shocking laugh. ‘Are you really making this about you? Do you know how terrified I am right now?’

‘No.’ He said taking a step towards you. ‘No, I don’t know, because you won’t simply talk to me, Bells.’

‘Well, maybe I don’t want to, Steve!’ You screamed, shaking your hands in the air, feeling yourself being carried away by how badly the wound on your chest hurt. ‘Maybe it’s too painful to know it’s not going to work!’

He stood silent in front of you, his eyes studying your face as realisation fell on his eyes. An inquisitive frown took over his face as he blinked a couple of times.

‘Are you still talking about your parents?’

You were shivering now, looking away from him and trying to blink away your tears, when a pair of warm hands cupped your face. Peppermint cologne all over you, washing you in warmth and terror as you felt Steve’s shaky breath brushing your cheeks.

‘Bells.’ He begged gently but firmly as you shook your head. ‘Bells, don’t push me away like this.’

You keep shaking your head, trying to walk backwards, but he still held you softly and delicately, knowing exactly which corners of you had already been broken too many times before.

‘You know it, don’t you?’ He whispered as his thumbs stroked your cheeks. ‘You know that I like you. I mean you must, because I’m terrible at hiding it and everyone knows.’

‘Steve.’ Your hands held his wrists as you looked up at him with fear overflowing your glossy deer eyes. ‘It’s just not a good time right now for this to ha—’  

His lips hushed you, needy but soft as your body melted against his, fitting perfectly against his chest, pulling his shirt clumsily because God, did you want him. His hands pulled your waist against him when your own found his cold cheeks. It was overwhelming, a soft pathetic noise leaving your mouth when his tongue ventured inside your mouth, and suddenly it wasn’t just tender, it was hot. It was daydreams repressed last summer when you shared a tent, it was thoughts you pushed away when your knees were too close from his, it was thinking about him in the warmth of your shower and having to remind yourself not to think too much of him because this would never happen to you.

You took a step back, feeling flushed and unable to think straight. You looked up at him, his challenging eyes waiting for your answer as he cleaned his puffy pink lips with the back of his hand. The silence was killing you, but you were trying to catch your breath, and you couldn’t find the words to say what you wanted to say, to express how scared you really were of fucking things up.

You stood expectantly as he searched for something inside his jacket, taking out a silver box with a pink ribbon. Your eyes turned glossy just at the sight of it. He held it in front of you with an expressionless face, but his brown eyes were hiding for you, and you tried to shake your head just when he started talking.

‘It’s a bracelet.’ He offered to you once again. ‘A chain bell bracelet. ‘Cause I missed…’ He cleared his throat before proceeding and you took a step towards him, wondering if he’d let you touch him again. ‘I missed hearing when you walked into a room.’

You let out a choky breath. Your heart was beating hard as you took the box slowly.

‘Uhm,’ you said after a while, feeling like an idiot as you stood there. ‘I got you cufflinks, ‘cause you know, you’re going to start working in an office and stuff. With your initials engraved. I thought you liked that.’

He nodded softly, looking away as he put his hands inside his pockets. And you wondered if what you were seeing behind his avoiding eyes was a spark of hope.

‘In cursive?’

‘Of course.’ You said under your breath, and then you laughed. Like an idiot. And he smiled too. ‘I know you like that corny shit way too much.’

He couldn’t help but laugh shyly, looking down at his shoes as he kicked the snowy ground. It was adorable, really, how he had gone from being so confident to this timid mess in a matter of seconds.

‘You really know me, don’t you?’ He looked up at you.

You nodded, feeling a knot on your throat and your heart beating hard against your chest.

‘I guess I do.’ You swallowed hard. ‘That’s why you’re not allowed to leave me.’

Your eyes turned glossy again before he moved to touch you, this time less desperate as his hands wrapped around your waist and you slowly let him embrace you in a hug.

‘Then you gonna have to let me stay.’ He said as his hand cupped your cheek once again. ‘Okay?’

You nodded, stroking his nose with yours and waiting for his warm kiss in the middle of all that coldness.

‘Okay.’ You whispered. He kissed your smile then, or a least he tried. His own idiotic smile wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t really easy because after all, it the happiest of Christmas.

thank you for reading. ❤️ if you’re still in the holiday mood you can find more one shots to read from my christmas collection here.

🏷️: @keerysfolklore @starrgurl46

I do no consent for people to plagiarise, translate, copy or repost any of my written works anywhere. I do not consent people to use any of my written work for AI purposes.

[beyond-the-prologue]

have some more bestfriend!eddie flangst, you animals.

a sequel to this, which is a prequel to this.

Johnny wasn’t so bad. 

He was handsome enough and his cropped haircut suited his face. It showed off his high cheekbones and the angular lines of his strong jaw. He did crew, so he had nice broad shoulders with arms that were lightly muscled from lots of hours logged on the rowing machine. And he had a disarming sort of smile, his mostly straight teeth framed by strangely plump pink lips.

It was an odd thing to think, but he actually kind of looked a little bit like Eddie.

A distorted, alternate universe, almost cursed version of him, that is. Because, come on—Eddie Munson with blue eyes? Some things were too ludicrous to even consider. And picturing those warm and inviting deep brown irises replaced by Johnny’s cool, ocean blue orbs…

The thought alone almost made you shudder.

Aside from his looks, Johnny was also absurdly charming. He laid lines on you like it was his job and yet never came off smarmy or disingenuous. Confidence just oozed off him like molten lava, as if he had never experienced even a second of self-doubt one time in his whole life. Clearly, he kneels aware of everything he had going for him.

So no, Johnny wasn’t all bad.

But he wasn’t all good, either.

Your first few dates had all been at bars where you just happened to link up with some brothers from his fraternity. He then spent the majority of the evening carrying on with them, lazily draping his arm across your shoulders and whispering a sardonic running commentary in your ear.

He never outright ignored you, but it seemed there was always something to draw away his wandering eyes—a game playing on the TV, one of his friends sinking a shot in pool or hitting a bullseye in darts, a pretty girl in a low-cut top passing briefly through his peripheral vision.

It was never anything that felt worth exerting the effort of getting annoyed over, though. He’d been very upfront with you about what he was looking for and not being the “boyfriend” type. The word around campus was he was nursing a serious case of heartbreak and still carried a fairly massive torch for his ex, Crystal.

Which was quite honestly fine by you.

Like most of the people you dated, he was ultimately just a distraction. Someone nice and cute, inoffensive and disposable. Someone to keep you warm on particularly lonely nights.

And Johnny kept you extremely warm. Literally.

He always ran weirdly hot, which was nice in some respects. Like tonight, when he parked his car under the cover of some trees on the side of some deserted lane he found far too quickly for it to be coincidental. The moment he cut off the engine, the chilly evening air had begun to leak into the cabin and had you sitting closer to him in the backseat and clinging onto him a little tighter than you normally might have.

Kissing him was like making out with a furnace, but he was a very good kisser—no doubt having had plenty of practice. And the longer it went on, the harder it got not to think about the pair of lips his reminded you of so much. With your eyes squeezed shut and the two of you lit only by the scant traces of moonlight illuminating the edges of your entwined limbs, it became a little too easy to imagine a different set of hands running up your sides, sliding up your sweater.

But when your hand drifted up, fingers expecting to wind into long and wiry waves, and you found yourself gripping futilely at short blonde hairs behind his ears, the illusion shattered.

Your shoulders shook in a shiver as your chest was exposed, the simple lace bralette not nearly as insulating as your thick knit top. Lips popping off yours, Johnny pulled back to get a look at what he’d unveiled and you felt a little tremor of worry sneak down your spine.

“Huh,” he said with an amused chuckle.

Not exactly the reaction you’re going for when you take your shirt off for a guy. 

“Something wrong?” you asked pointedly. His head jerked up, like he had forgotten there was a person attached to the body he’d been pawing at for the last hour and a half.

“Hmm? Oh, no, I just noticed something s’all,” he answered, surging in for another kiss. 

You planted your hand in the center of his irritatingly toned chest and pushed him back. 

“Noticed what?”

“S’nothing, baby,” he told you with an easy smile. “One of ‘em’s just way bigger. Look—”

And before you could say anything, before you could fully register what he was doing, he had put one of his hands on each of your breasts and he pushed them up to demonstrate. And it was hard, nigh impossible, to deny how your right one filled out his hand significantly more than the left.

With a huff, you yanked the bottom of your sweater down, forcing his hands to drop as well.

“What? What did I say?” he asked, blinking at you far too dumbly for someone as smart as him.

“Just take me home, please. I have a lot of work I need to get done.”

His mouth opened, no doubt to protest, but you had already pushed open the car door to climb out and get back in the front seat. You’d then spent the rest of the ride home quietly seething while he attempted to assure you he “didn’t mean it that way” and that “it’s not a bad thing.” 

But even with his over-abundance of body heat, there was no chance of him thawing you out.

You honestly didn’t believe he said it maliciously, you just figured he could have been a little more diplomatic? It wasn’t like you didn’t realize there was a balance issue—they were your boobs for chrissake, did he think you never noticed?

It was just no one else had ever felt the need to point it out so thoroughly.

Still, you nodded mutely when he pulled up to your apartment and asked if he could call you the next day. And you hated yourself more for it with every stair you climbed to your floor.

The flashing light on your answering machine drew your eye as you skulked through the door and tossed your purse on the kitchen counter. The jangle of your keys sounded especially loud in your empty apartment and you heaved a sigh as you pressed ‘play’ on the way to the fridge for a beer. You’d just touched the rim of the bottle to your lip when you heard Eddie’s voice.

“Hey, I might need an emergency extraction ASAP—Steve and Robin dragged me to karaoke and they’re about to do dueling STYX covers. You’re my only hope! Come! Pleeeease!”

He sounded just a little bit tipsy rambling off the address of some bar he was probably outside of calling you desperately from a pay phone. If you closed your eyes, you could see his sweet and lopsided smile as he laughed into the receiver, his warm breath fogging up the glass siding, fingerless-gloved hands tracing shapes in the condensation while he talked.

A spiral. A lightning bolt.

The first letter of your name.

The machine beeped and his voice filled your apartment again, sounding much less jovial and much more sober, this time most likely calling from the comfort of the recliner in his trailer.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot you were out with what’s-his-name. Uhh…I just got home. Call me when you get in? If you want, y’know, assuming you’re not…busy. Or, um. N-never mind. Night.”

His message had barely finished playing before you snatched your keys back up and headed out the door. You couldn’t say for sure what spurred your spontaneous trip, but you didn’t stop long enough to wonder. Maybe you were just lonely. Maybe you were just sad.

Maybe you just needed to be around someone you knew wanted to be around you.

You let yourself inside his darkened trailer with the key he’d given you, sneaking silently down the hall towards his bedroom door that was outlined in gold from his bedside lamp on the other side. Had it not been for the rumble of his stereo, you might have thought he was asleep.

“JESUS CHR—”

The yelp he let out when you opened his door made you giggle. He scrambled to sit up, not so subtly flinging away the magazine that had been spread open in front of him. His top half was bare, tattooed chest heaving as he clutched at it and panted trying to catch his breath.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he accused, the fondness in his voice leaking through despite his attempt to sound angry. A smile twitched up the corner of your mouth as your brow arched.

“Sure you don’t mean the jizz?” you asked.

“I’m not—”

Eddie’s chest puffed up angrily until you fixed him with a Look that made it deflate. He glanced at the Heavy Metal on the floor and gave you a cheeky smile and a guilty shrug instead.

“That’s what you get for breaking an entering, sweetheart.” 

“Well, you think you can get friendly with yourself a little later? I kinda had a bad night.”

The wounded tone in your voice caught Eddie’s ear. He nodded and gave you one of those “you don’t have to ask” sort of smiles you had kind of been hoping for. You nodded back succinctly and went to open the drawer in his dresser that had begun to accumulate your clothes.

“Do…do you wanna talk about it?” Eddie asked, his dry throat aching as he tried to swallow.

With your back turned, you couldn’t see the way his eyes l bulged when you tugged down your jeans to replace them with sweats, and you definitely couldn’t see the way he plopped a pillow on his lap as you stripped off your sweater and put on a t-shirt in its place.

“Nah,” you told him, resolute and flat. “It’s stupid, anyway.”

Eddie didn’t need to hear about some blonde douchebag feeling you up. He didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t like he cared about your dates one way or another. And it’s not like what happened was that bad, you reminded yourself again as he switched off the light.

You curled up on the side of the bed closest to the window—your side—and folded your arms under the deflated sack of feathers posing as a pillow to support your head. As you lay there, waiting for unconsciousness to overtake you, you heard the low murmur of Eddie’s voice that was drowsy with sleep and rough from the joint he’d smoked whose scent still lingered in the air.

Only the first bit, a slurred “g’night sweetheart” reached your ears. The rest was unintelligible. Something about shoving you?

“Did you say something?” you whispered to him.

“No,” he answered after a long pause. “No, noth…nothing important.”

if you had told me the guy who commented on our boobies in the first part was gonna end up being Johnny Storm…

ty for reading. love you, mean it! 🪭

[beyond-the-prologue]

bestfriend!eddie has an itch only you can scratch.

1k worth of flangst (fluffy angst? is that a thing?) sometime preceding this…

“You all right over there, buddy?”

The question came out half-chuckle, stilted by the air coming through your nose as you looked over at Eddie from your place on his bed.

He was stood in his open doorway with his back up against the frame, moving side to side in what could only be described as a shimmy.

“I have an itch, that alright with you?” he asked, the snark in his voice undercut by how silly he looked wiggling back and forth, rubbing his back like a bear against the bark of a tree.

Or a really uncoordinated pole dancer.

“Touchy, touchy,” you tutted at him and shook your head, going back to your book.

You paused, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you stared blindly at the words on the page, not absorbing them in the slightest.

“Do you, um…want help?”

Eddie froze in place mid-shimmy and he stared back at you like he was trying to decide if this was a trap or not. You peered back just as cautiously.

“What kind of help?” he asked warily.

You smirked.

“You know these guys are good for more than just shoplifting,” you told him as you held up your hands and wiggled your fingers.

“Oh, ummm…”

He coughed, trying to cover up how he was shaking at the thought of your nails scraping down his back leaving hot streaks in their wake.

Eddie knew why he hadn’t asked you to scratch his back. It was the same reason he never asked you to put suntan lotion on him or let you sit on his lap even when seating was limited. Why he always sat on the floor when you came over instead of sharing the space on his bed.

Because he knew if you touched him, if so much as one pad of one of your fingers made contact with him, he’d have an enormous problem.

Okay, maybe not enormous.

Above average, easy.

“Ed—are you for real?” you demanded when all he could do was stammer out a non-answer. “It’s just a back scratch, it’s not like I’m offering to penetrate you or something.”

And with that image in his head, Eddie was lucky he didn’t spontaneously combust on the spot.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” he answered at last.

Your eyes rolled, but you tossed your book to the side and got up on your knees, shuffling toward him with a smile. Steady, Munson. Steeeady…

“Sit down, you weirdo,” you instructed, a little too sultry for his liking.

He literally gulped as he turned and sank down on the foot of the bed, fists gripping the edge of the mattress so tight he could rip off a whole chunk.

“Is it anywhere in particular?” you asked.

Your voice was soft, way too soft, in his ear and he nearly jumped out of his skin as you took his long hair and gently draped it over his shoulder.

“Kinda…all over…” he said, stilted and tense.

“Okay. All over it is.”

This must be what hell feels like…

It was the only thought Eddie could manage that wasn’t x-rated. As your fingers curved into a claw shape and you started to gently drag them down Eddie’s back, he felt like his body was consumed with searing hot flames and suddenly the itch on his back didn’t seem all that pressing anymore.

The fact that all he could do was sit there while you touched him, your fingers doing something he could only describe as mind blowing, unable to act on the million and one filthy things that were running though his mind right then…

What he wouldn’t give to turn around and sweep you up in a kiss. To run his hands up and down your back until you were trembling, shivering, quaking out of control. Begging for him.

Oh, yep. He was in hell for sure.

A moan rumbled in his chest as you moved your hand to the small of his back and drew it slowly up his spine. And when your nails reached the nape of his neck his body literally writhed.

“Sorry,” you whispered, “too much?”

Too much, and not remotely enough.

“N-no,” Eddie stammered, still recovering from his shivers. “Just, ah…wasn’t ready for it.”

“Should I keep going?”

Yes, for the rest of our lives.

“No, that—ahem—that’s okay. Y-you got it.”

He cleared his throat again and started to stand, only to find himself unable to. He shifted his hips, trying to wiggle his way to some relief as he filled his mind with all the un-sexy thoughts he could.

A Herculean feat with you in the room.

Behind him, he could feel you back away and climb off the bed. Mercifully, you kept your head down, averting your eyes like you knew what he was hiding as you tucked your book back in your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Eddie looked up sadly when he realized what you were doing.

“You’re going?” he asked. “Already?”

“Yeah, kinda,” you said, still not looking at him.

Shit, he knew he fucked up. What was a not-weird way to tell you he didn’t mean to moan like that?

“Gotta get ready for this date, I guess.”

Oh. Right. Your date.

Eddie had seen him around campus a few times before he asked you to dinner. He was more on the preppy side—and blonde of all things. And his name, Johnny, made Eddie’s eyes roll.

He also thought he looked like a thumb.

“Well…have fun,” Eddie said shortly.

You finally looked up, meeting his eye line and shooting him a small smile.

“Thanks,” you said. “Try and go easy on your door frame,” you added lightly before you left.

Eddie chuckled, but the sound was too heavy.

He sat there, listening to your footsteps recede and crunch on the gravel outside as you walked to your car. He waited until he’d heard your engine roar to life and fade as you sped away before flopping backwards on the bed.

The issue between his legs having disappeared the moment you uttered the word “date.”

No doubt about it…

He was definitely in hell.

[beyond-the-prologue]

A li’l self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff. Reader w/ boobies.

Eddie’s not a total pig, okay?

He can control himself just fine when necessary. He’s fully capable of maintaining a conversation without his brain short circuiting at the sight of something that makes all the tiny Eddie’s in his head run around like chickens with their heads cut off. That is…except for right now.

Because right now there are boobs in front of his face. And not just any boobs. Your boobs.

“Eddie!” You huff loudly and drop your shirt. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

He blinks a few times, reluctantly coming out of his daze to look up at you and the appalled frown on your face. His cheeks burn with his humiliation and his mouth falls open as he stammers through his attempt to recall what you just said.

You roll your eyes, sighing all heavy and petulant as you climb off his bed.

“Hey!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up to really sell the ruse of being offended. “You’re the one whipping out your bits all willy nilly. Can’t exactly expect me to concentrate.”

Over your shoulder you fix him with a glare and snatched up one of his Hellfire figurines to chuck it at him. The freshly painted figure ricocheted off his elbow as he threw his arms up in front of him, fighting back giggles as you scolded him.

“I came to you for advice, not to be ogled!”

Well, that was your first mistake, Eddie thought to himself. Because when it came to you there was no scenario that didn’t involve ogling.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I…I got distracted. But that’s what you’re going for, right? Weren’t you asking if they look good?”

“It’s not about whether they look good, I just…I need to know if they look even.”

Even? Even, how? Even more fucking incredible than normal? Even more mouth-watering? Even better than what Eddie’s been imagining more and more over the last few years.

“Even, how?” he asks.

“Like…normal.” You groan. “He says one of them is way bigger and I thought maybe this bra would minimize the problem.”

“Problem?” Eddie snorted. “There’s not a single fucking problem with them.”

You roll your eyes at him again, but it’s not quick enough to hide the smile that started to blossom on your lips when he says that. Eddie’s bed frame squeaks in protest as he hops off the bed and comes to stand in front of you, solemn and serious in a way he almost never is.

“Sweetheart…they’re perfect.”

You’re perfect, he wants to say.

A little pride creeps into your voice as you tilt your head gently and glance briefly down at your own chest before looking back at him.

“Really?”

“Really, really. Literally, maybe, definitely, the greatest ones I’ll ever see in my life.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest and you honestly feel like you’re going to melt into the carpet under your feet. And suddenly you can’t remember for the life of you why you even bothered with this other guy in the first place.

Because the guy you bought this stupid fancy bra for has never called them, or anything on you for that matter, perfect. And he’s never looked at you the way Eddie is looking at you.

You bit down gently on your bottom lip, absently walking your fingers along the edge of Eddie’s dresser, scratching at the chipped paint.

“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”

cont’d here

[beyond-the-prologue]

My Shelves

Harry Potter

Stranger Things

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