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zh-lele · 4 months

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12-7 ROOM (part two)

Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.

▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader

▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff

▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity, suggestive jokes, kissing, and some very light suggestive scenes.

▪︎Word count (part 2): 7721 words

playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories

Author's note: hi everyone :') sorry for being so absent and never posting the final part to 12-7 room. But hey, I finally got the motivation to do it. I've been also writing other things but I don't know when I'll finsih them or post them. Anyways, if you want to take a look, the other things I'm always working on are listed on my wips page. Once again, sorry for taking too long to post this and I hope someone can enjoy it anyway. Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Seriously, thank you. This isn't proof read so tell me if you find any mistakes, please and thank you. Enjoy!

Saturday, 08:37 p.m.

"I feel like we're betraying Mark."

"Why?"

"We're having a sleepover without him," you explain to Donghyuck while you extend your left hand to him, and he places his right hand over your palm, so you can continue painting his nails with a black polish. "You know, we're listening to Bruno Mars, eating watermelon–"

"Aren't we supposed to eat watermelon in the summer?" Donghyuck interrupts you to ask.

"Real watermelon enjoyers eat watermelon no matter what time of the year it is–Hyuck!" you scream after he makes a sudden move to grab a piece of fruit from the bowl and half his index finger ends up covered in black nail polish. "Stop moving your hand!"

"I'm sorry!"

He apologizes and stays still in front of your body, legs crossed and knees touching yours. Donghyuck is so close you can feel his breath in your hair, and even though you know it's impossible for him to hear your heart-rate increasing exponentially, you fear the closeness and the intimacy may give you away. Honestly, by this time you thought you might have figured it out: you had to either rethink your relationship and conclude that you were only going to be friends forever, or accept your feelings and confess to him, no matter what the outcome could be.

But you find yourself finishing Donghyuck's nails and looking up to him, who was–as more often as you thought–already looking at you. He smiles to you sweetly, no teeth on sight, and he looks ridiculous. Donghyuck is wearing a sheet mask with the form of a peach, yet you still find the sight in front of you incredibly endearing. The worst part about it is that you're looking as ridiculous as him, with the lemon-shaped sheet mask covering your face. You feel his thumb gently caress the back of your hand that he was still holding even long after you've finished. And as his soft features are illuminated by the warm dim lights of the lamp and the TV, as he holds your hand and looks at you as if you might be the prettiest lemon he has seen, you get that feeling again.

The comfort, the domesticity. The urge to be his companion, to share moments like this and many more. Every day.

Your phone buzzes as you set an alarm to take the masks off twenty minutes ago.

Donghyuck lets your hand go. He lets go of your heart too—but only for a second. He cradles your face, his soft fingertips pet your jaw, then your cheeks, and you can't hold his gaze anymore. You want to look down, drop your head before you start word-vomiting everything you're feeling and you've been feeling for him since the moment you met, since that first time he cooked ramen for you and you decided you wanted it to be your comfort food forever.

Donghyuck won't let you look down, though. He applies pressure with his fingers in the place where your neck and your jaw meet and with his thumbs on your cheeks. Your lips naturally pout under the pressure and you see it. Donghyuck. Your best friend. The guy you've liked forever now, looking at your lips for what you think it's been like the fourth time this weekend. And it's only been hours since the weekend started.

Is it really going to happen? Are you about to kiss Donghyuck right now? On the living room's couch on a saturday night in, under the dim lights, while Silk Sonic's Love's Train plays in the background and you're wearing fruit-shaped sheet masks?

It is fucking romantic.

Yet it never comes.

It doesn't happen.

Donghyuck just says: "It's time to take the masks off."

And you agree because, well, what the hell are you supposed to do? Just throw yourself all over him like you, maybe, have been imagining? Donghyuck takes your mask off your skin and you take his, that leaves his face looking the softest and smelling like sweet peaches. That definitely doesn't help your situation.

You're incredibly frustrated. Upset, even, like a kid who got denied his candy. (You wish Donghyuck was your candy.) You hate this sleepover now and even wish Mark was here to cock-block the entire situation. That would be less upsetting.

"And?" He asks once both of you have your masks off. "Do I look cuter now?"

Oh, so he's aware he's already incredibly cute.

You can't contain a smile. He's only centimeters away from you after he quickly moves back to look for his glasses. You feel the need to poke his cheeks that look as soft as marshmallows and smell like fucking peaches. Actually, you might feel the need to eat him.

But you don't dare say anything. Only trying to hide your smile looking down, as your face grows red, you let Donghyuck think of his own conclusions after your reaction.

Thing is, you're kind of a coward.

Donghyuck says it's time to netflix and chill, and you laugh because the statement is followed by a "Literally. Don't start thinking about something dirty."

He places himself on the mattress on the floor (the one you've been sleeping since you arrived), a bunch of pillows supporting his back, and makes room for you. He's cheeky enough to pat his stomach to tell you to lie there, between his legs and over his body. Just like that, as if you hadn't been melting before just by holding his hand in yours or having your knees touch. And now he wants you to lie on his stomach?

Are you really that close? If so, why isn't he your boyfriend yet?

You open your eyes wider and point a finger at yourself. "Me. Me?" Your voice comes out full of disbelief.

"Not you. Mark," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Of course it's you! Unless you don't want to lay together?"

"I mean…"

How do you make it sound not so desperate, not too obvious?

You just shrug and say, "Yeah, sure."

Aced it.

Donghyuck's body feels like the softest mattress you've ever laid on, like you could close your eyes and sleep trapped in his limbs forever. And because of the closeness, you can sense the vibrations of his voice traveling from his torso to your ears. His tone is quiet and gentle, talking about what to watch to no one in particular because, even though he's talking to you, you're too concentrated on opening your camera and capturing the moment in a video of the two of you.

"Look how cute," you say, moving your arm to his eye level to show him the video. "You talk in pout when you're really concentrated."

When you're conscious of the surroundings once again, you're sure you've replayed the video with a smile on your face like ten times.

"You should upload that."

"I've posted enough about you," you reply to his suggestion, going back and saving the video to your drafts. "People are gonna think you're my boyfriend or whatever…"

"Would that be so bad?" Donghyuck questions with his eyes fixed on the TV screen. When you move your head back to look up at him, he dares to connect eyes with you. "People thinking I'm your boyfriend?"

Sunday, 12:02 p.m.

Donghyuck had always been clingy.

Yet you didn't know he could be this clingy in the mornings.

Mark has been trying to get Donghyuck out of bed for like ten minutes now, but he won't get up. While your brother is pulling his arm out, Donghyuck pulls Mark's arm in, asking him to join him and sleep 'just a little more'.

Yes, your brother found you both sleeping on the mattress in the living room. No, you and Donghyuck were not clinging to each other (sadly). But Hyuck was for sure clinging to your brother now.

"Mark!" He protests in a sleepy tone. "What do you want if you won't come in?"

"We were supposed to have brunch together," your brother tells Donghyuck again, yet he must be too sleepy to process what's happening.

"I won't go." Donghyuck states and doesn't even open his eyes again. The living room is clear enough, as the winter sun has been hitting for hours now. But it isn't an impediment for him to curl up under the blankets like a burrito and go back to sleep.

Mark drops his shoulders and allows himself to sigh, finally defeated by his heavy-sleeper best friend. "I guess it's just you and me, y/n."

—

Fortunately for you, the weather has been amazing since you arrived in the city where your brother lives. Saturday was no different, with a clear blue sky above your heads despite it being winter, and the sun shining just the right amount to touch your skin and leave it warm. A little breeze messes with you and your brother's freshly dyed hair as you sit outside a coffee shop, brunch almost all devoured on the table. Mark hums to a familiar jazzy tune that plays all the way from inside the café.

And the atmosphere is beautifully calm. But you need to get something out of your chest. For once.

"So," you start and Mark moves eyes from his food to set them on you, expectant of your next words with a mouth full of pancakes and fruit. "I think I like Donghyuck."

Mark starts coughing after hearing you, and you wonder if it is because of the shock of your confession or because he really is that careless to get the food stuck in his throat.

"Yeah, I knew," he confirms once it's clear for him to speak again.

"The fuck you mean 'you knew'?"

"I mean, honestly, it's pretty obvious." Your brother can't hide a smile. He drops the fork to properly talk to you this time. "Like, you've always had some kind of thing… I don't know, I thought I had a special connection with Hyuck," he says pointing at himself, eyes wide with what could look like a little bit of shock. "But you two… You two are something else."

"Oh God," you cover your face in embarrassment even though after your brother's words there's no point in hiding anything anymore. "So you've been watching me acting like a fool in love around Donghyuck all this time, and you said nothing."

"I didn't say anything 'cuz I thought it had to come from you." He shrugs. "Wanted you to feel comfy enough to tell me, even though I had my suspicions, obviously."

"May I ask… Why," you hesitate a little before asking for a third-person perspective. "Why were you suspicious about it?"

"Dude, I don't know," a small laughter escapes him. "You just look like you'd be all over each other if you could."

You just groan in frustration hearing your brother saying you might have been way more obvious than you thought you were. Temperature rises to your cheeks coloring them a little red, and not because of the midday sun hitting right from above your head.

"And you can," Mark says, yet you don't get it, the tilting of your indicating he has to clarify. "Like, you can be all over each other. I don't know why nothing has happened between the two of you yet."

"'Cuz I don't know if he likes me?"

"How could you know if you don't try?"

Your gaze drops to your lap, and you realize you've been playing with the rings of your hands, taking them off and putting them on over and over, indicating the conversation is making you a little nervous.

Mark must notice, since he keeps talking. "Just tell him, dude. Best case scenario, he also likes you, you move out together and make me free from Donghyuck's ass."

The way he puts it makes you laugh, yet there's a slight weight to your eyes, as if tears could start falling down slowly at any time after holding your feelings in for so long. So you take a deep breath, blink a few times and look at the sun.

The sun, shining in its maximum splendor in the middle of the sky. And you wonder what he's doing right now. Donghyuck, or Haechan, as his mother used to call him when he was little. Full Sun, because he's always so bright and energetic, like a happy virus (Mark would also call him a pain in the ass, but you see, it depends on who you ask.)

"Worst case scenario, you remain as good friends," Mark continues. "C'mon, you know him, he's not a dick. You just gotta try talking to him."

You gulp and nod at him, now trying to make eye contact with a subtle smile on your face. Another deep breath. "You're right. Donghyuck won't hurt me, no matter what the outcome is."

Monday, 01:43 a.m.

On Mark's phone...

Meanwhile at the livingroom...

"Hyuck–wait. Can't we go slower?!"

"Look at that!" Donghyuck screams pointing at the TV screen, after taking the airpod off his right ear. You do the same with the one you were using, and the music from the game stops playing in your head. "I got a perfect score!" And he continues to do a silly victory dance, moving his hips from side to side with his arms in the air.

You really don't want to be mad at Donghyuck right now.

"This is so unfair," you tell him, stepping out of the frame and leaving the remote on top of the game console. "You didn't tell me you were this good. And you know I can't dance at all."

"You're right," Donghyuck says sincerely, a hand on his chest, right in front of his heart and all. "I didn't tell you I'm a dancing god and took advantage of your poor dancing skills to win the Just Dance."

You really don't want to get mad at him, but sometimes he makes it pretty much impossible.

"You." A hand comes in contact with Donghyuck's arm. Your hand. "Dirty." Another slap. "Bastard." And another one. "I hate you so much!"

"Hey!" He protests rubbing his arm after you slapped it. "Lying is a sin."

"I'm not lying," you say. "I hate you. You put on the fastest choreo to follow."

Donghyuck follows you around to the kitchen and watches your every move. He's right behind you, his eyes following your motions when you fill a glass with water, when you gulp it down, when you clean it and leave it back on the counter. He's hot on your heels when you come back to the common area and take the inflatable mattress out to get ready to sleep. He's still following your moves carefully when you put on the sheets and when you lay on it with the remote of the TV in hand. He only takes his eyes off your body when the Netflix logo appears on the screen and he notices you're about to watch the show you two started together.

You know he's dying for a word from you.

"You don't mean it," he says, now free of all mocking tones.

"I don't mean what?"

"You don't hate me."

You're pretty sure Donghyuck doesn't need you to confirm that you weren't serious. Naturally, he has always shown himself as a very self-assured and friendly person; It's not normal that people don't like Donghyuck. However, when you meet his eyes, wide and expectant of your response, and perhaps wet with a little insecurity, you understand that things are not always what they seem.

"How could I ever hate you, Hyuck?" you tell him to extend a hand in his direction, inviting him to lay on your side on the mattress.

Relief takes over his expression, and a wide smile is plastered on his face. He's quick to get comfortable (maybe too comfortable, not that you really mind) laying his head on your lap, and moving your left hand to his hair that looks like it's got longer over the days. You know he wants you to play with it—Donghyuck loves getting his hair played with. The fourth episode of My First First Love starts playing on the TV screen, and you hear Donghyuck sigh contentedly.

The subtle strokes at the hair on his nape get Donghyuck smiling again and exhaling deeper at your tranquil touch. And, not to be biased, but the colored lights coming from the TV highlight the softest, most beautiful face features you've seen in your life. In an act of courage, you move your fingertips from his hair, to his sharp jaw, to his cheekbones, gently caressing the warm skin.

Donghyuck moves his head on your lap until he's no longer watching TV. Neither are you. You're just staring at each other in silence. He's letting you stroke every part of skin until the tip of your fingers make it to his lips. His plump pink lips that have been tempting you more and more the past days. And he places a kiss there. On the tip of your fingers.

You freeze and grow red. Then he places another kiss, and another, making it three the times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin.

It may be driving you crazy.

He's careful with his movements, so careful it turns almost painful watching him. Donghyuck grabs your wrist and gets up to sit beside your spot on the mattress. Doesn't let go of your hand—instead, he holds it tenderly, caresses the back of it with his thumb, then places another kiss there.

Four times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin. Five. Six—he just placed a kiss on your palm. Wait, another on your wrist. That's seven kisses so far.

But it's not enough. Now you've felt his lips you want them everywhere, all the time. So when he gets your hand closer to keep kissing you there, you grab his face. Feel the skin there, of his jaw, of his neck, and it's really hot. You think you might even feel the rapid pace of his pulse when you press your fingers on his neck (but it could also be your own.) Lastly, you tangle your fingers in his hair that he has let grow during these weeks of winter break. You tug on it a little, just enough to let him know you want him close. Closer, please.

And Donghyuck sighs, more like he fucking moans.

You wonder if you should say something before moving forward. What about all the things you talked to Mark yesterday? Should you tell him about how you feel before kissing him? What does he want? And what would this be after you kiss?

The call of your name interrupts your torment of thoughts.

"Please," he begs in a whisper, eyes closed as your noses brush against each other. "I'll die if I don't kiss you right now."

A laugh comes out of you because he always has to be that exaggerated, but you decide to set all questions aside for a moment to just dive into him.

He starts off very gently, with his slightly parted lips pressing against yours. They are indeed as fleshy and soft as they look, and taste like a cherries lipbalm. Donghyuck repeatedly places small kisses on your lips until you open your mouth a little more, and he captures your lower lip, biting a bit there. It gets another little tug on his hair from you, a sigh of relief after tasting his mouth after years of longing, and everything becomes more needy.

Donghyuck grabs at both sides of your head to deepen the kiss, smashing lips together repeatedly and kissing you sloppily. When you allow him to, he pushes his tongue into your mouth and you push your body closer to his.

He grabs your wrist not neglecting your lips even a second, as if the both of you were magnetized, and places his palm on your waist inviting you to his lap. It makes you laugh out of nervousness, so Donghyuck opens his eyes to watch you straddle him and place yourself on top of him very carefully.

His touch travels from your waist to the sides of your torso, his right hand in a place that you're sure allows Donghyuck to feel your increased heart rate. Your hands cradle his neck, then tug at the hair of his nape as he observes you kind of mesmerized, inhaling deeply, smiling a little and wetting his lips before you're diving into each other once again.

You've lost count of the amount of times you've felt Donghyuck's sweet lips on you by now. But you're sure of one thing: you don't want it to be the last.

"In case you were still wondering," he breaks the kiss to talk to you. "I like you, kinda a lot."

His hair is slightly disheveled from all the pulling, his lips are shiny and swollen, and he looks a little agitated. In his incredibly dilated black pupils you can see the reflection of your smile.

"I also like you, Hyuck," you finally confess to him. "I like you like, a huge amount."

He lets out a sigh of relief, more like a scream, and you're quick to cover his mouth reminding him that your brother is supposed to be sleeping five meters away from you. Yet, you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

He presses your foreheads together as his hands caress your sides, from your knees, to your waist, and to your lower back. Both your thumbs stroke his cheeks gently before you move to place some smooches there, in each of Donghyuck's moles (that is all over his face.) You think of all the times you imagined doing exactly that and find it hard to believe there's a possibility you could have Donghyuck any time you want now.

You only have to talk it out and see how things could progress between the two of you in the future. In the meantime, you'll keep smooching the literal personification of the sun (that might be because he feels hot as fuck right now, or because his smile is bright as the sun, or maybe he could be both.)

(Still) Monday, 01:00 p.m.

Donghyuck has had his head over the clouds since last night. After a heavy make-out session with you and some cuddling, he went back to his shared bedroom to sleep at like four a.m., being the most quiet possible to not wake your brother up and maybe having him asking what the hell was Donghyuck doing with you in the living room until four in the morning. He can’t escape the knowing smile Mark gives him though, when he wakes up and sees Donghyuck already up and working at his desk.

Donghyuck pretends everything is normal, greeting Mark good morning as usual.

“Good morning, Melk.”

“You sound too happy,” Mark groans in response, still sitting on his bed only half awake.

Donghyuck checks the time on the corner of his computer; one p.m. during holidays is like eight a.m. to Mark. Your brother just sits there for a while and Donghyuck goes back to studying for amoment, until the silence of the room gets interrupted.

“Yo,” Mark calls to attract Donghyuck’s attention. “What you did last night was fucking nasty.”

“What–” Donghyuck tries asking, only to have Mark interrupting him.

“I heard you two going at it," he starts with a very serious expression that gets Donghyuck's blood completely drained from his face. What could've Mark possibly heard? "My sister was telling you to go slower and everything.'' Mark makes some gagging sounds to add to his point and Donghyuck grows as equally embarrassed and amused at your brother’s assumptions.

“You think we fucked?” Donghyuck asks in complete disbelief. An exaggerated nervous laugh follows the question. “With you in the house?” He points a finger at Mark.

“You didn’t?”

“Sorry to tell you what you heard was us playing Just Dance. The last choreo was too hard and y/n couldn’t follow it.”

Donghyuck watches his best friend rub the sleep off his eyes and get up from the bed while he denies with his head, looking kind of defeated. “You’re both the biggest losers I’ve ever known,” Mark says, referring to you and Donghyuck.

“Hey!” Donghyuck starts to defend himself, his eyes grow bigger as his brows go up, and the characteristic Donghyuck pout starts to show, like in every situation a discussion is involved. “It was fun! We had a good time, ask her.”

“Losers made for each other, I swear.” Mark emphasizes his point. “So you didn’t fuck.”

Donghyuck doesn't look up from his math notes to answer. There's no way in hell he's having this conversation looking at Mark in the face. “By now, I’m sure I might be a virgin again.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Mark can’t contain a laugh, though. “That’s bad for your health. Get your dick wet already.”

“I’m just waiting for the right time with your sister.”

“Hey! You can’t joke like that anymore.” Donghyuck knows by Mark’s tone all the bickering has become dead-serious now. It has always been like this when it’s about you. First they joke a little about it, then Donghyuck reminds Mark how much he truly likes you, and lastly Mark tells Donghyuck to just confess to you already because he’s tired of hearing about it. “If you’re joking about my sister I’m gonna beat you up.” Mark reminds him.

“Sorry.” This time, Donghyuck is brave enough to face his best friend. It’s kind of hard for Donghyuck to believe it when Mark tells him he’s getting beated up, though, when Mark’s wearing the pajamas Johnny got him as a gift recently–some blue panty with a moose on the back that says ‘don’t moose with me’. “I’m not joking about her.”

“I know.” Mark covers the pajamas that distract his friend so much as he puts on his jeans. “You like each other so much it’s disgusting.”

Donghyuck can’t hide his smile after hearing that, and it reminds him of all the kisses you shared last night, which makes him grow red in the face. Nothing a little more bickering with your brother can’t hide.

“You’re sooo cruel to me, Markie.” Donghyuck tries to hug Mark before he’s leaving the room, but morning Mark has always been like a stray cat who doesn’t like affection (unless it comes from Yuta, which Donghyuck can’t comprehend very well but he supposes the japanese has something pretty magnetic.)

“Get off of me!”

“Only a lil’ kiss, pleaaase!”

They struggle at the door of the room and into the common area. Donghyuck with his lips millimeters from Mark's face while Mark tries with all his might to get away from Donghyuck, who can be like a tick. They're so caught up in their things neither of them has noticed you're there, observing the entire interaction.

“Why don’t you go and kiss y/n? I’m sure she’ll enjoy it,” you hear Mark say when he finally frees himself from Donghyuck.

It’s at this moment that you know you are hearing too much, so you clear your throat to let them know that you are there too. They both freeze after turning around and seeing you sitting at the kitchen island. Your brother Mark, the great opportunist and master at escaping from uncomfortable situations, greets you good morning and is off to work in a second, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the apartment.

You watch Donghyuck get closer to where you’re sitting. He hasn’t changed from his sleeping shorts and the hoodie he was wearing last night–the same hoodie you pulled on as you kissed in the same mattress laying meters behind him. Yet you don’t know how to describe the sensation you’re feeling right now. After seeing the boy you like the most fighting your brother for a kiss, your stomach feels… weird? You know the kind of relationship they have–they’re best friends, they bicker and fight and make up all the time. They live based on Donghyuck love-bombing Mark and Mark denying the affection all the time. But they love each other in a brotherly way, it has always been like that.

It’s not like you expected Donghyuck to want to hug and kiss you and only you after what happened last night, but you kind of did expect it.

Were you jealous of Donghyuck’s best friend, your own brother Mark?

Donghyuck looks at you confused when you don't accept his hug right away. You stop his arms midway, and his eyes look defeated, full of worry. “Did something happen?”

You deny with your head. “I don’t know, that kind of felt weird,” you confess to him.

Donghyuck caresses your arms, feeling you relax from the defensive attitude from before, until he gets your hands together. “What felt weird?”

It’s ridiculous, you know it is and you’re embarrassed about what you’re about to say. Yet, you can’t help but:

“I think I got jealous,” you say and watch his brows furrowed together. “You know, when you were trying to kiss Mark…”

Donghyuck only bursts out laughing and hugs you tightly against his chest, leaving you no time to escape the sudden affection. He smells like fabric softener and feels comfortable like a pillow. And you hate that you love the way his laugh resonates through your entire body when he presses you to himself like that.

“You know I never want to kiss Mark seriously, right? That I only do it ‘cause I know he hates it,” he explains once he’s separated from you, still holding your hands in his and looking you in the eyes. “I don’t want to kiss anyone the way I want to kiss you.”

You look down hiding your smile, thinking he’s cute at first and processing his words then, which makes you laugh a little. Donghyuck realizes right away and starts to laugh too, leaving the seriousness behind.

“Was that too much?” He asks.

You nod in response. “But it’s good to know.”

“Good,” he says before planting a kiss on your cheek. He’s only millimeters away from your face when he speaks again. “No need to be jealous then.”

Donghyuck turns you around on the chair, so your back is pressing against the island and he can stand comfortably between your legs. He starts as he did last night, planting a kiss on your knuckles, then your wrist, but you don’t wanna waste any more time so you free yourself from his hands and start cradling his face. His lips look as tempting as always, maybe even more after you tasted them for the first time.

He notices your look so he gives you a lopsided, attractive smile that you desperately wanna rip off his face.

“How can you look this handsome in the morning?” You ask, admiring all his features.

“I mean, technically it’s past the morning.” he answers in a cocky tone.

“Shut up already.”

You don’t give him time to fight back as you’re sealing his lips with a kiss. It’s slow but deep, and his skin feels warm and soft under your fingertips, all the way from his sharp jaw to his cheekbones. When he bites your lip a little bit to get full access to your mouth, you worry about the breakfast you were having minutes ago, but Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind:

“Mhmm,” he hums, breaking apart and licking his lips. “You taste like maple syrup.” And he steals another quick kiss from you.

“Yeah,” you say as you turn around to face the kitchen island again. “‘Cause you interrupted my breakfast.”

But despite you showing your back to him and trying to finish your food, Donghyuck won’t let you eat in peace. “Oh yeah,” he murmurs against the skin of your neck after he moves your hair to your left shoulder. He plants a soft kiss on your right side, sending shivers down your spine and making it hard to concentrate on your task. “I’m sooo sorry I interrupted you.” His tone is full of sarcasm as his kisses travel to your jaw and all the way down again. “And you hated it sooo much.”

The metallic sound of your fork falling off your hand and hitting the plate startles the both of you. Donghyuck stops sucking on your neck and you fall out of your trance. Your startled face might be somewhat funny, because Donghyuck starts giggling as you both realize you were enjoying his kisses a little too much.

“Let’s go on a date.”

“All of a sudden?”

He nods with a smile on his face. “It’s your last day here tomorrow. It’s not like we won’t see each other anymore but… I want to take you out before your last day here.”

“Okay,” you agree, matching his smile.

“Okay?” He asks once more and sighs contentedly when you nod your head yes. “I’ll go plan everything. Make sure you’re all mine this afternoon!” And he leaves the room after kissing your right cheek.

(The busiest) Monday, 07:37 p.m.

“Hyuck, come on, there’s seriously no way of winning with those machines.”

“Babe, just one more try. I wanna get something for you.”

Donghyuck has been fighting against a claw machine for what felt like half an hour now. Since none of you weren’t able to win any of the games you tried at the carnival, you really appreciate his determination to win a prize for you this way. Yet you arrived here at five p.m., and after two rounds of bumper cars, after testing your strength at Ring the Bell (and both of you failing embarrassingly), riding the teacups, getting scared to death in the haunted house, and going twice into the Ferris wheel (one time for the sightseeing and pics and another time for kissing at the top of it) your stomach growls with hunger.

“We could’ve paid dinner with all the money you spent on this machine-”

“Wait, I’m about to get it!”

“Let’s just go get dinner.”

“But I’m about to get it!”

And you see it forreal this time: the claw holding a big Pochacco plushie and it falling right into the hole.

“Hyuck, you got it!” You scream in disbelief, a big smile taking over your face (maybe because of the cute plushie or maybe because it meant you were finally going to have some food.)

You watch Donghyuck lose his arm through the hatch and get it back, this time with the stuffed animal in his hand. When he’s presenting it in front of you, the stuffed animal is so big that it blocks your view. You admire it for a second, and then take it into your arms to discover a Donghyuck wearing the biggest smile you've seen in a while. He’s all cozied up, his jacket and stuffed hat making him look like a real life teddy bear. Even so, the cold of the winter has caused the tip of his nose and his cheeks to turn red, somehow making him look even cuter.

“I got it for you!” He says, the excitement not leaving his body even for a second.

You can’t contain yourself and, as an impulse, grab him from the jacket with your free hand and pull forward until your lips are meeting his. Just a short peck as a way of saying thank you, I love it (you.)

Neither of you realizes the little crowd you've drawn around the machines, not until you hear the applause and cheering as you're breaking away from your kiss. You’ve never seen Donghyuck get shy when drawing people’s attention, so this might be your first time noticing him trying to hide under his hat and into your embrace. You laugh it off even when you're equally embarrassed, but thank him for the plushie and tell him to run away from there to get dinner.

—

“I think I’ve liked you from the start,” Donghyuck confesses all of a sudden.

Well, maybe not so all of a sudden. While you two were having your dinner, bottle of beer came after bottle of beer. At some point of the night, you thought it was a good idea to start having soju. Donghyuck said something like “it’s our last night together, we should celebrate and get wasted” to justify your decision. So it may be the full stomachs and the alcohol making you be honest with each other.

“I know I’ve liked you from the start.”

“Aaall the guys knew too…” He slurs his words a little when speaking. “I wouldn't shut up about you.”

You can't hide your drunken, enamored smile when hearing him. But something makes a little noise inside your head. “All the guys knew?” You ask and he nods quickly. “Even Mark?”

“Even Mark,” Donghyuck confirms. “I mean, we always kind of had this joke going around that I was always waiting for you.” He pours himself another drink. “But we both knew it wasn't a joke.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face, embarrassed. “My own brother lied to me,” you say and Donghyuck makes a confused sound, which makes you keep explaining. “He pretended to know nothing about your feelings when I confessed to him that I liked you.”

“I asked him not to say anything.”

“Huh?”

“I wanted to tell you myself how much I like you.”

“Oh god,” it's all you can repeat right now, all these confessions and the alcohol making you grow hot everywhere. “It's so hot inside this restaurant,” you say as you take your jacket off.

Donghyuck knows the red on your cheeks isn't only because of the heat inside the place.

“I like you sooo much,” he says as he watches you giggle out of nervousness. Donghyuck calls your name and holds your hand over the table to try to get you to look at him, but you only giggle and hide your face with your other hand. “I'm in love with you!”

“Okay, okay!” You're laughing by now, trying to cover his mouth to shut him up and not attract everyone's attention like you did at the carnival. “I'm in love with you too!”

“Good,” he says with an extremely pleased smile, that one that has always attracted you to him so much.

“Good?” you repeat and he nods.

Your phone screen lights up showing it's Mark calling you. You silently tell Donghyuck you're picking up and he lets go of your hand for you to do so.

“Yes?”

“Yo,” you hear Mark answer from the other side. “We're at Yuta's right now, we're working on some music with Taeil and TY so I think I'm just gonna crash here tonight.”

“Uhm, are you sure you don't wanna go back?” You ask and make eye contact with Donghyuck, who narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side after your question. You only shrug to him as a response.

“Nah, I'll leave the apartment for the two of you so make good use of it.” Your brother answers convincingly.

“Okay, I'll see you in the morning.”

“All right bet, see you in the morning.” And he's quick to hang up.

You take the phone off your ear and look at it confused for a bit, until Donghyuck breaks the silence. “Everything all right with Mark?”

“Yeah,” you say as you put the phone down. “He said he's not going back home tonight.”

“Oh.”

You think of the words your brother said. “Leaving the apartment for the two of you,” and “making good use of it,” and it hits you. A little bit late, but it hits you.

“Oh…” you repeat, a surprised expression now taking over your face.

“Yeah, oh!” Donghyuck agrees. “We're having a real sleepover tonight!”

But by the excitement in Donghyuck's face, the one a little kid would show when told he's sleeping at a friend's, you aren't convinced he thought the same way you and Mark did.

(The last day at your brother's) Tuesday, 09:12 a.m.

The next morning, you wake up pretty confused. When you open your eyes, you're not sleeping at your usual spot. Your surroundings look very different from the living room where you've been sleeping every night. To your right, you spot Donghyuck's desk, filled with physics books, a pile of comics, and the typical empty Red Bull cans. The mattress also feels incredibly comfortable, soft but firm under you. But the most strange thing is the weight over your body, and a cologne you know very well and like very much flooding your senses. That's when you realize Donghyuck is laying all over you, stretched like a starfish.

You laugh and struggle to take your arms under him, and when you wrap them around the boy over you and squeeze, he starts to laugh too.

"Are the curtains open?" You ask in a voice still full of sleep.

He moves his head up to catch the smile on your face. "No?"

"Then why is the sun so bright in my face?"

The smile spreads on his face and he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're so fucking cheesy." And he kisses you again.

“Get off,” you try to move him from over your face and your body. “I haven’t washed my mouth.”

“I don’t care,” he says, finally moving and sitting at the side of his bed, where you’re still laying in. “I’m not missing a chance to kiss you.”

“You’re sooo fucking cheesy,” you repeat his words.

“And you like me sooo much.” Donghyuck moves to the nightstand and grabs an aspirin and a can of Red Bull and brings them to your mouth. “Take, it’ll make you feel better after all we had last night.”

You sit up a little on the bed to do what he told you, and once you've swallowed the aspirin you let yourself fall back against his pillow. Donghyuck is still sitting on the edge of the bed, exchanging glances with you and holding your hand lovingly. He's wearing the Michael Jackson t-shirt that he likes so much and he's wearing his messy hair, just as you left it after pulling, fixing and messing it up while you kissed him countless times the night before.

You’re leaving today, and it’s like all the feelings you’ve accumulated these past years are hitting right now, all at once.

“I wish I could wake up like this everyday.”

“Hungover?”

“No, not hungover,” you laugh at his question. “With you.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’ll figure it out.”

You sit up in the bed and search for the energy drink on the nightstand. After a few drinks, you’ve figured the morning breath can’t be so bad, so you move to face him properly and grab his face for a real kiss. Donghyuck doesn’t take long to reciprocate and start caressing your entire body. He’s always the first one to take the kisses to other places, so you take the lead this time. You discovered last night that Donghyuck can’t resist the kisses on his neck. You start placing soft kisses, then some licks until you suck a little and he fails to suppress a moan. He laughs it off and calls your name.

“I want to ask something important,” he says, looking you dead-serious in the eyes now, all the jokes and the desire aside. After you nod in response, telling he has your attention, he takes a big breath of courage. “It may seem a little rushed, but after all we’ve shared these years and after this week we’ve spent together, I don’t want you to leave without asking you to go out with me.”

You feel the temperature increase throughout your skin. Is he finally asking you to…

“Be my girlfriend?” As if he knew you from inside and out, he finishes your thoughts out loud.

Temperature reaches your face as well as probably the biggest smile you’ve worn since you got here. You cradle his face, squeeze his cheeks with your hands until a pout is showing and you can’t help but laugh—out of nervousness but also out of happiness, from having the sun in your hands and all for yourself.

“Lee Donghyuck,” you start. “That’d make me the happiest in the world, in the universe.”

“You’re sooo cheesy!” He starts the bickering once again, yet he’s sealing your deal with a kiss on your smile and, of course, you’re returning the affection.

(Later that) Tuesday, 03:30 p.m.

You’re standing in the building’s hallway while your brother struggles to lock the door to the 12-7 apartment. Donghyuck is patiently holding your suitcase, waiting for Mark to be done. They’re going to accompany you to the bus stop that’s coming at four p.m. so you can finally go home to the rest of your family and your normal life—you’ll be back studying and working in a few days, after spending Christmas with the family and Donghyuck, who promised to be there to join the Christmas lunch at your home and—maybe, if he doesn’t chicken out—present himself as your boyfriend to your parents.

“We need to change the door lock before y/n moves in here,” Mark says after finally locking it.

“What?” Donghyuck and you ask in unison. “Moving here?”

“You’re not moving in with Donghyuck? I thought I’d finally be free from him,” your brother answers, kind of disappointed, but not as disappointed as Donghyuck after noticing how bad your brother wants him out.

“But where will you go?” You ask him.

“I made plans to share the floor with Yuta.”

“That motherfucking japanese!” Donghyuck screams following Mark down the hallway, and you palm his back trying to reassure him, but your boyfriend won’t calm down. “I swear he wants to steal my best friend from me! He’s so jealous of my life!”

“What would he be jealous of, Donghyuck?” Your brother asks tiredly, and you know he’s rolling his eyes even if all you see is his back opening the building’s front door.

“Of our last-longing, incredibly unique friendship, of-fucking-course!” Donghyuck answers like it’s obvious.

“I’m pretty sure you just kept this friendship to get with my sister.”

“Mark?! That’s not true. I love you, man. Mark-Mark, come on!”

taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm @minkyuncutie @bbh-kji @minhosprettywife

#haechan #haechan x reader #nct fanfic #donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck x reader #zh-lele

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satoruxx · 6 months

Note

sorry to go feral in your inbox but ghostface!miguel who is crazy about you (in a good way I promise) and does everything in his power to protect you and keep those horrible college guys from your classes away from you but you only know him as the mysterious gravelly voice who calls you every night that you’ve grown fond of as your personal lullaby-

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader | 1.5k words summary: ghostface!miguel, stalking, possessive miguel, violence, death, killing, obsessive behavior, suggestive, killer miguel ofc, reader is WAY too trusting, miggy just loves you so much !! rheya’s note: NONNIE BABES YOU GENIUS !! he absolutely would oh my fucking god. i am so normal about this (going feral) i was literally squealing while writing this it was rough. why is this concept hot? do i need therapy? probably. anyways he's a creep in this but in a good way? (the way this ask literally got me inspired to draw ghostface!miguel UGH) anyways ENJOY !!

miguel isn't a bad guy. he's not. he's one of the good guys actually, a hero. he's always been a hero.

it's not his fault that there are some assholes in the world that are fucked up, preying on innocent people who just want to live their lives.

sweet, innocent people like you.

how a girl as sweet and precious as you managed to get yourself surrounded by such horrible people is beyond him. and you're so nice too, always assuming that nobody has it out for you or that everyone has some good in them. with that mindset, you were just asking to be put in danger.

so, being the hero that he is, it's his obligation to look out for you, right?

it starts off quietly. he doesn't make an effort to connect with you, choosing to watch you from the shadows as he silently tracks your day. miguel is nothing if not observant, mentally noting every single person you interact with or looks your way. and if they get a little too close, a little too comfortable? well, then he'd just have to take care of that for you, wouldn't he?

he hates that one flirty coworker of yours, always leaning a little too close to you and chatting like he's your fucking boyfriend. miguel can see the little crease of discomfort in your brows whenever that coworker is nearby, and he decides that he hates that expression on you. but you feel fine afterwards, because when your coworker goes missing the next day, you send a quick thank you to the heavens, trying to push down your guilt.

he finds out that you try to make some extra money by tutoring a guy at your school. and when miguel watches the two of you through the windows of the library he feels hatred like no other run through his veins because he doesn't like how this guy looks at you. that asshole probably didn't even need tutoring to begin with, using it as a pathetic excuse to get close to you. what a fucking joke. but you don't have to stress about tutoring anymore because the next day you get a text saying the kid has transferred schools. you never hear from him again.

oh but the worst ones are the ones who ask you out on dates. they don't even know how lucky they are, getting to see you all dolled up and pretty for them, only to absolutely destroy your hopes for a good time. it makes miguel so angry he sees red. every fucking time one of those losers makes a comment that has your shoulders slumping with disappointment, a miserable frown on your pretty lips by the end of the night, he feels sick to his stomach. but he hopes that when you see your date's body on the news the next morning, you won't be so disappointed anymore.

only after watching over you for a while does miguel decide to finally talk to you, finding the perfect hiding spot to watch you through your window as you pick up your ringing phone. he has to stop himself from groaning because your voice sounds so much sweeter when it's in his ear, smooth and precious as you ask who it is. and he can't resist playing with you, dying to hear more as he sighs behind his mask.

"tell me your name and maybe i'll tell you mine." miguel answers, gravelly voice practically purring through the speaker. he can see the confusion on your face as you pace your kitchen, reaching for a bag of chips before walking back to your couch and settling in to watch a movie. he hears the screams from the tv and bites his lip. "what's that noise?"

"a movie." you reply, the expression on your face getting less guarded as you listen to his voice.

"a scary movie?" he asks, leaning against the edge of the roof so that he's got the perfect view of you. you take a chip and pop it in your mouth, chewing quietly, and he follows the movement of your lips with eager eyes.

"mhm," you nod, and miguel thinks it's so fucking cute the way you move your head even though you think he can't see you.

"you like scary movies?" he asks with a hum, and you voice out a yes. his eyes remain hooded and attentive as he effortlessly continues the conversation. "you got a favorite, sweetheart?"

he catches the way you melt under his sweet words, and miguel decides then and there that he's never letting you go. he listens to your answers with a grin, tucking his knife away and watching you animatedly talk to him for the remainder of the night.

and the rest is history.

you tell him about a guy who's bothering you? he'll bury him. someone made you cry? he'll break their legs. your date stood you up? he'll stab them so many times he loses count. and then after all of that, he'll call you like he always does, rumbling honeylike words into his phone as he casually watches you from behind his mask.

"and how was your day today, sweetheart?" he'll drawl out, late at night as he perches on the neighboring roof to your apartment. with the way he's angled he can perfectly see the innocent little smile on your face as you settle in bed, talking on the phone like you're not scared of him at all.

and you shouldn't be, because he'd never hurt you, of course.

some nights you'll giddily tell him about the most exciting parts of your day, smiling and giggling until you fall asleep without a care in the world. but on the nights when you complain or whine about somebody that's made you upset, wronged you, or god forbid, showed interest in you? well, those are the nights miguel has to grit his teeth and clench his fists, trying to control the flare of pure rage that courses through him. he lulls you to sleep with sweet words, trying to keep his cool but still vibrating with anger because who the fuck do they think they are, getting near you like that?

"don't worry, pretty girl," he sighs into the phone, twirling his knife between his fingers. "i'm sure they'll stop bothering you soon enough."

and they do. but you being the precious oblivious little thing you are, assume that you're just lucky. a guardian angel, you had said, was watching over you. miguel had just chuckled into the phone, deep and rich as he smirked at you from the roof once again.

"guardian angel? well lucky you, huh?" he had asked, feeling all too pleased with himself. you agreed with a nod.

well, if that's what you wanted to see him as he had no problem playing guardian angel for you.

and no he doesn't even want you to find out, because the last thing he wants to do is scare you. no no, he'd much rather protect you from the shadows, eliminating every single threat could ever harm a hair on your pretty little head. his reward comes in the form of you living your life, carefree smiles and all.

and granted he feels much more rewarded when he calls you late at night, deep voice teasing with an underlying sense of possessiveness as he speaks to you about anything and everything. he doesn't understand why and how you decided that he was safe to talk to, but you do, laughing and sighing into the phone until you've dozed off.

and if you've accidentally left your windows open, well of course being the gentleman he is, miguel will close them for you. but not before he stands at your bedside, raising his mask to watch you sleep peacefully. such a pretty little thing, so sweet and gentle. and after pulling himself away from your sleeping form, he quietly shuts the window behind him, yanking his mask back down with a smirk because he doesn't want anyone else to see you all vulnerable like that.

you were too trusting to begin with, but you trusting him is alright. after all he's the only one who's been looking out for you. anyone else tries to get near you and he'll have no choice but to tear their limbs off. they could be a threat to you, right?

but that's why he'll never let you out of his sight.

you're his after all.

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fallingdownhell · 1 year

Note

Could I request Cyno with an s/o that enjoys and tells dad jokes?

Imagine them teaming up and telling bad jokes to Tighnari and everyone else around them 😂.

I pity Tighnari in this scenario.. I really do..

Content: crack, if you want to call it that; just some funny stuff and bad dad jokes

Word count: 640 words

Hope I could deliver this the way that I pictured it in my head. Still, have fun with it!

If you are to date the one and only General Mahamatra Cyno, you WILL have to deal with his jokes one way or another

because by becoming his partner, you also gain the privilege to hear all the jokes he comes up with as the very first person

if you actually, honestly laugh at his jokes, Cyno is awestruck. He can't get another word out of his mouth for the next ten minutes straight, only stares at you

and if you were to actually share his humor and come up with such jokes on your own?

you better prepare yourself because Cyno might just propose to you on the spot

of course he would not do that, since you guys have only been together for a short time, but for him that was the moment he knew that he had to do everything in his power to keep you by his side and eventually, put a ring on your hand

After that, he was convinced that you were the one fated for him, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with

he loves how you come to him all excited when you came up with a new joke

"Cyno! Cyno! I got a new one!"

"Oh really? Let's hear it then."

"Okay okay... I only know 25 letters of the alphabet. I don't know y."

He looks at you and cracks a small chuckle, as he gets out his notebook where he writes your joke down to make sure he remembers it

He always makes sure to take you with him when he goes to visit Tighnari at Gandharva Ville

Because, and Tighnari hated to admit that, he actually likes you and the influence you have on Cyno, even though the both of you enjoy to torture him with those terrible jokes

Luckily though, you don't have the habit of explaining said jokes, that would always be Cyno's part to take over. And Tighnari truly hoped that it would stay that way. He and his sanity would not be able to handle two of the exact same sort

and while he had build up a pretty high tolerance over the years towards Cyno's bad jokes.. there's only so much the poor fox can take, especially now that he has to deal with two people

"Hey Tighnari, did you hear the rumor about butter?", you said, excitedly looking at him, while Tighnari just gave you a blank stare. "Well, I'm going to spread it!"

While Cyno let out a quiet laugh at your joke, the fox boy just looked at you, an expression on his face that could only be interpreted as 'are you serious right now?'

Then Cyno cleared his throat and went ahead to tell a joke of his own. ""Wanna hear a joke about paper? Never mind—it's tearable."

you snicker at that, when Tighnari suddenly stands up, not being able to take it anymore

"Both of you, leave. NOW!"

Let's just say neither of you were welcome at Gandharva Ville for the next two weeks straight.

But that just gave you both ample time to come up with even more jokes, which Tighnari would all get to hear eventually

Over time, people all over Sumeru would know you for one of two reasons. Either because you're the partner of their General Mahamatra, or as his "partner in crime", as some people began to call you, seeing as you torture the people around you with bad jokes as much as he does

If other people got a say in it, they would forbid both of you from ever talking outside of work, so they can maintain their sanity. But alas, that request didn't go through, so you and Cyno continue to tell terrible jokes both to each other and every person around you currently available

I had to actually research dad jokes for this one... I require compensation for the things I had to read...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno headcanons #cynos bad jokes #tighnari #genshin impact cyno #genshin impact tighnari

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jo-harrington · 1 year

Text

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 3)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, Masturbation, Fantasies/Wet Dreams, To Quote JQ "There Do Be Willies"

Note: Guys...ok I tried I really did. First off once again thanks to @ghost-proofbaby, @big-ope-vibes and @trashmouth-richie for being my sounding boards for some things in this chapter. And then because they have been SO amazing with their writing and their big-brainedness, this chapter is dedicated to @myosotisa and @blue-mossbird.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Before Eddie could react at all to Steve's appearance, Steve had launched himself off the bed, crossed the room, and pinned Eddie against the wall with an arm across his neck. The pressure was uncomfortable, but not enough to keep him from breathing or talking.

"How did you get in here?" Eddie questioned.

"It's my fucking house, Freak," Steve spat. "I know where the spare key is. Now, what the fuck did you do to me? To us. How the fuck did you do this?"

"Listen pal," Eddie grunted, trying to shove Steve off of him. Eddie wondered, fleetingly as he stared into his own rage-filled eyes, if he was actually that strong, or if it was just because Steve had better control of his strength. "I don't know what you think I could have done, but I was just as surprised as I'm sure you were when I woke up here this morning. In your fucking body."

"That's bullshit. You did this," Steve insisted. "You...did some satanic ritual—"

"Are you stupid? It's all a joke man," Eddie began. "I don't worship Satan, Hellfire's not a cult."

"Fuck you, you and your devil horns and latin chants during lunc—"

"I just played that shit up so my friends don't get beaten up by meathead jocks like you."

Fed up with being pushed around and accused Eddie went slack against the wall for a second, causing Steve's footing to falter, and with that he threw his whole weight against Steve, causing him to tumble back onto the floor. Eddie knelt over him, gritting his teeth, and fisted the front of his shirt.

"You think if I had some kind of say in my life, some kind of power to change it, I would still be stuck in a shithole like Hawkins?" Eddie sneered. "Stuck in that trailer, stuck being a student at Hawkins high for another day?"

"Except you're not stuck anymore," Steve retorted. "I am."

"Y-you think I would want to be stuck like this instead?" Eddie huffed. "King fucking Steve Harrington. Who has it all handed to him. What kind of life is that?"

"You didn't seem too miserable a few seconds ago," Steve pointed out.

Eddie let go of Steve and he dropped slightly, head bouncing slightly off the plush area rug.

Fucking Harrington can't even have hard enough floors to hurt.

Eddie stood to his full height and looked around the bedroom again—at Steve's desk and his lovingly filled-out calendar, at the plush bed, at the window that overlooked a swimming pool for fuck's sake—and wondered how fair it was that Steve could have anything he ever wanted, but never did.

What would you like me to say to that Steve? That you're right? That I would want your life? That you're an idiot and you don't deserve any of this? That I do instead?

"Where were you just now anyway?" Steve continued as he watched Eddie cross over to the window. "Take my car for a joyride or something? While I'm driving around your rusty old shitbox? Or...or—"

"Took your girl out for a date," Eddie interrupted and glanced back at Steve over his shoulder. "Or did you forget about her?"

"My gir—" Steve paused. "Do you mean...You took her out on our date?"

"I went through the motions today," Eddie explained. "Wake up in someone else's body, go to work at their job, take their girlfriend on the date they had planned."

"For someone who seems to have no idea how this happened," Steve grunted as he pushed himself off the floor. "You seem to know how to handle a situation like this pretty perfectly."

"How do you think I should have handled it? Driving around town screaming about spells and magic?"

Steve had the sense to look ashamed for a minute and Eddie smirked.

"What did you do today then, eh 'Eddie?'"

"I...I went to school," Steve started.

"Sounds like going through the motions to me."

"I went to find Henderson!"

"Wait a minute," Eddie turned to face Steve fully. "You told Henderson?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "What was I supposed to do? He's part of your little band of misfits. Figured he might know some...counter spell and get me back in my body."

Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

Great, Dustin was going to actually think Eddie was the devil now.

"Did you tell anyone?" Steve asked dumbly.

"No because I'm not an absolute idiot," Eddie exclaimed, throwing his hands out. "Fuck, no wonder Buckley calls you a dingus."

"Well lah-di-dah, I'm sorry I don't have the mystical body switching handbook memorized like you do" Steve snarked and fell onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to his body for comfort. "What would that even look like? A...a...pentagram with 'shut the fuck up' written in the middle in latin or something?"

Eddie froze.

A mystical body switching handbook.

A pentagram.

Or maybe a sigil?

"God, I can't even believe you went on my date for me. Did you even...how did you know I had reservations at the Club? Wait, is that what you wore? Jesus Ch—”

"Shut up!" Eddie interrupted. "Go back, what did you just say?"

"Uh....The Club?" Steve asked. "The...Country Club up in Marion? My dad plays golf there."

"No before that, you said—" Eddie stopped. "Wait, you were gonna take her for dinner at the Golf Club? Kind of a douche move there, Harrington. Even for you."

"Well where did you take her then?"

"Doesn't matter," Eddie dismissed, smugly filing away the fact that his idea for a date was better than Steve's. Country Club. "You said...a pentagram."

"Yeah? What about it?" Steve asked. When Eddie hesitated to answer, Steve grew concerned. "Please don't tell me you drew a pentagram and asked for...I don't know, better hair or something and now we're stuck like this."

Eddie ignored the dig at his hair.

"Not...exactly."

"Oh!" Mrs. Henderson looked surprised when she opened the door to find both "Steve" and "Eddie" on her doorstep. "What a surprise!"

"Hey, Mrs. H," "Steve" greeted with a smile, causing "Eddie" to roll his eyes. "Is Dustin here?"

"He is. With Will and Lucas. Since someone decided to cancel Hellfire Club," she glared at "Eddie" good-naturedly. "I can go get him for you; come on in. Did you boys have dinner? You hungry? I have plenty of leftover tater tot casserole."

"No thank you," they answered in tandem and crossed through into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

As she made her way back towards Dustin's room, the boys started to bicker.

"Why would you cancel Hellfire? I never cancel. Even when I'm sick."

"I’m sorry was this not a pressing matter? Your little club can’t skip one week?”

Mews jumped up and settled in "Eddie's" lap and Steve froze as she began purring.

Mews was never really a fan of Steve's to begin with, the few times Steve had come over to spend time with Dustin and the kids. It was mutual indifference, actually. She mostly stayed cuddled up in Mrs. Henderson's arms, but when she wasn't they gave one another distance. Steve had no interest in getting near the cat, and the cat had no interest in getting near Steve.

So for her to be comfortable and purring in "Eddie's" lap...it made Steve a little nervous. What if she bit him or clawed him or—

"Well, aren't you gonna give her pets Harrington?" Eddie reached over and started scratching between her ears.

"Uh...I'm not an animal person," Steve explained and Eddie gave him a dull look. "What if it scratches me?"

"Are you kidding?" Eddie scoffed. "First, she's literally the cuddliest cat in the world. Second, she's a she, not an it. And third, if she scratches you, technically she'd scratch me and I've already been scratched several times when I fed the baby raccoons at Forest Hills."

"The—Why are you feeding raccoons?" Steve exclaimed. "They're wild animals, they're feral."

"They're babies, they shouldn't be eating trash. Which reminds me, as long as we're stuck like this, you need to leave a can or two of tuna out for the stray cats once in a while."

Steve watched Eddie for a moment, waiting for the laughter to start or a punchline to come out of his mouth. And it never did.

"What is wrong with yo—"

"Eddie! Steve!" the boys jumped at Dustin and his mother's appearance. Dustin had wide eyes and a strained smile. "What a surprise! Eddie, how was detention?"

Eddie turned back to look at Steve with raised eyebrows and a manic grin.

"Detention?" Eddie asked. "When did this happen?"

"I was late to class. You know, like I am every day." Steve answered, taking a cheap dig at Eddie for putting him on the spot.

"Anyway!" Dustin began loudly. "Why don't you guys come on back. And we can discuss that surprise campaign for Mike's birthday."

Eddie picked Mews off Steve's lap and handed her back to Mrs. Henderson with another last little chin scratch, and then he and Steve followed Dustin back to his room where, indeed, Lucas and Will were waiting.

"Alright dweebs, get lost," Steve announced.

"No way, we're not leaving until we figure this whole body switching thing out," Lucas scoffed.

"You told them too?" Eddie turned to Steve and Steve held his hands up defensively.

"No," Dustin interjected. "I did. I needed Will the Wise's brain and Sinclair the Soldier's tenacity if I was gonna solve this."

"What about Wheeler?" Eddie asked.

The boys sheepishly looked at one another.

"Mike's not exactly the best at keeping secrets," Will began hesitantly. "And if Nancy found out...well..."

"And we do actually need to come up with some kind of surprise for his birthday," Lucas continued. "A quest to reverse a curse on two knights sounds pretty epic."

They all looked to Eddie for his input.

"Could be interesting," Eddie hummed and tilted his head back and forth in contemplation. "I might be inclined to give it a DM stamp of approval if we can actually figure this thing out."

The kids all cheered and started talking over one another, saying that they went to the Hawkins Public Library after school since Hellfire was canceled. They gathered several fantasy books and a folklore book, and when they asked about occultism at the reference desk, there was one book that had recently been checked out.

"Funny you should mention that," Steve piped up and pulled the faded red book out from where it was tucked into Eddie's jacket. "Eddie and I nearly tore apart his trailer trying to find it.

And they had.

After Eddie had dropped the news that he, indeed, might have been the cause of this switch—unintentionally—he and Steve headed to Forest Hills to find the book.

Steve honestly felt a little vindicated that it actually was Eddie who had done this to the two of them, but...he admitted that he might have let all of the mania about Eddie and Hellfire Club fuel his anger.

But as he stood off to the side and watched the boys flip through the pages with Eddie as Eddie regaled them with his campaign ideas and the sigil that had caught his eye, Steve couldn't help but feel that bitter vile jealousy begin to bubble up again.

How long ago was it that he was taking them to the junkyard to ride their bikes and find scraps and bits and pieces for them to use for their...LORPing...LARPing...

And it was fun, yeah, watching the little idiots get excited over hunks of discarded pipes they could use as staffs, and bent and dented garbage can lids they could use as shields.

But he had done all of those things in an effort to make Nancy see he was a good guy, and he had lost her. And he had kept doing those things because the kids were actually fun and like the younger siblings he had always wanted...and now they were arguing about the differences between Latin and Ancient Mycenaean with Eddie.

He just couldn't keep up.

So he took the route he always knew would keep him and his feelings safe: he lashed out.

"Alright, so," he put his hands on his hips." What's the verdict, how soon can we switch back? I don't want to be stuck smelling like weed for the rest of my life. Do you even wash your clothes, Munson?"

All four boys—well, 3 boys and one man—stared at Steve with wide, almost hurting eyes. And Steve realized...

Shit.

...he hadn't made fun of someone like that in front of the kids that way in a long time.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't," he sighed and collapsed into Dustin's desk chair. "It's just been a really long day guys. It isn't easy being Eddie."

"Oh?" Eddie scoffed. "You just realizing that now Harrington? After one day of being me? You have it so fucking easy that it takes one day of...what? Being pushed around or called a freak or driving an old van that is not a rusty old shitbox, by the way. One day without your big house and your notes from your mommy and your neatly pressed clothes and your cute girlfriend doting on you?"

"And what do you know about my life?" Steve argued. "You don't know half of the shit that I go through! And you don't even care. You go around without a care in the world. Everyone you think is your friend is either afraid of you or looking for your approval. I heard from Janie Miller that you offered to give her free weed one time if she flashed you her boobs. You don't care who you're hurting or insulting or shitting on unless it's fun for you."

It was a miracle Mrs. Henderson didn't come to see what the ruckus was about because it just went on. Enough that they started talking over one another. One dig after another, one way their lives were seemingly better or seemingly worse.

The kids tried to interrupt them but they just kept going.

And Steve's breathing got heavy and his throat got tight, his eyes stung with unshed tears as he thought about...

The way everyone left him. The way he was actually alone. The way his dad couldn't see how hard he sought his approval. The way his mom only did nice things for him anymore was because he knew her secrets. The way his high school friends only liked him because of his popularity. The way that Nancy Wheeler never actually liked him at all, just liked the way he made her feel. The way that the kids left him behind for the next cool older brother kind of guy that came along. The way he was sure even Robin only half-tolerated him.

And the more that he thought those thoughts, the more...the more Eddie's body felt like his. The more he could feel every hair follicle on his head, the way every breath rattled his chest a little bit, the way his ears rang a little bit constantly from the loud music he always blasted in his van.

It got to be so much that it was scary.

But he and Eddie kept on arguing, until someone had the good sense to stop them.

"SHUT UP!" Will yelled and everything went silent. The two older boys stared at Will and he shrunk a little bit under their gaze. "I, uh, I think I figured out what happened."

"Well?" Steve snarked.

"...well I don't know for sure..." Will replied hesitantly. "I don't take Latin with Lucas and Dustin. B-but this right here. Alterius Oculos. Another's eyes?"

He pointed to the inscription on the page Eddie had shown them, right above the sigil.

“Ok what about ‘another’s eyes?’” Eddie asked.

“You need to…see through another’s eyes maybe.” Lucas offered. “Not literally. Figuratively. Empathize with them? Ms. Kelly told me about that a few weeks ago. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes.”

“Except, it’s actually literal,” Dustin snapped his fingers. “Because you two are actually seeing through one another’s eyes and wearing each other’s shoes.”

“So I drew the sigil, went to bed and we switched bodies to see through each other’s eyes and…understand each other better?” Eddie huffed. “I wasn’t even thinking of Harrington when I drew it!”

“What were you thinking of?” Lucas questioned.

Eddie quietly picked at his fingernails, and Steve looked down at his own hands—at Eddie’s actual hands—and saw the ripped up skin and closely trimmed nails. Eddie was a nail biter.

Eddie Munson was a nail biter and he was nervous and he was…

“I was thinking that…nothing good ever happened to me. That…I needed to have a reality check or something,” Eddie shrugged.

…Eddie was a loser. He didn’t have it all figured out. He struggled with things…beyond Steve’s understanding. Even because of Steve sometimes.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cut in. “It’s not like I did anything to help things last night.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“I, uh, might have charged you extra for your movie rental just to get you out of my hair for a while.”

“I knew it!” Eddie exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Steve. “I knew you were pulling that shit on purpose.”

“Can you fucking blame me, have you ever met yourself?” Steve asked.

“Well, I certainly can say I have now,” Eddie grumbled. “So how do we fix this? How do we switch back?”

The younger boys all shared another nervous look.

“I guess…” Will began. “Do more things to understand each other. Just…do whatever the other would do…live each other’s lives.”

“For how long? Forever?” Steve scoffed.

“Lucas and I can translate the rest of this page,” Dustin offered.

“I’m sorry, Lucas and who?” Lucas asked. “You’re barely passing Latin.”

“Ok Lucas can translate the page while Will and I can do my best to help ‘Eddie’ navigate Hellfire Club.” Dustin held his hands out as though he was weighing his options. “And ‘Steve’ can just…not fuck up real Steve’s life. Or real Eddie’s life for that matter!”

“Can’t fuck up something that’s at Rock Bottom,” Steve grumbled.

“And maybe you two could work on understanding each other in the mean time?” Lucas asked.

Steve and Eddie stared at one another in a way that felt, to Steve at least, like a challenge. They nodded and Steve felt the unspoken “let the best man win” ring through the air.

Otherwise they were both gonna lose.

Eddie threw his head back with laughter.

"Swing and a miss," he called as you swung the putter at the little purple golf ball, over and over, without actually hitting it. "Honey, are you just letting me win? There's no way you can be so bad at this."

"We can't all be professional mini golfers," you laughed at him.

"Excuse me, that is 'mini golf champion,'" Eddie boasted. "They have my face in the Hall of Fame."

"Oh I didn't know I was in the presence of a celebrity," you bowed to him. "Maybe you could take some pity on a poor peasant and help me get this shot please."

"I supposed I could give you some pointers," he sighed dramatically and sidled up behind you. He wrapped his arms comfortably around you and his hands found yours on the putter. When he tried to get your body into position to make the shot, you pressed yourself back against him and rested your head on his shoulder a bit. "Hmmm, what is this funny business, honey? Trying to distract me?"

You wiggled your shoulders and relaxed, leaning your body further into his, emphasizing the softness of you against the hardness of him.

And it was only getting harder by the second.

"Maybe I'm trying to win?" you turned your head to look at him, breath fanning against his jaw.

"Considering I've made par on every hole so far—"

"I'm not talking about golf anymore Eddie," you muttered, shaking your hands out from below his on the putter so you could turn within his embrace and cup his face softly...reverently. "I...you know I've always had a huge crush on you."

"Honey, why do you have to tell me such sweet things?" Eddie asked. "It's our first date, I'm trying to be a gentleman. We're in public."

"And if we weren't in public?" You tilted your face closer to his, lips practically brushing against his. "Would you be a gentleman then?"

"Do you want me to be?" he asked breathlessly.

He dropped the putter and grabbed at your waist as he crushed his mouth to yours. It was a hungry sort of kiss, like he was a man starved. And when the joyous moan that came from you was as sweet as honey, Eddie resolved that you were, indeed, going to give him a sweet tooth.

Eddie's hands slid easily across the smooth surface of your shiny taffeta dress as he pulled you closer, causing it to rustle as it crinkled under his touch. It got harder to think as he savored your softness but he dreamed of what it would be like to be surrounded by all of you. To be consumed, and suffocated, and smothered by you.

He could have it...he could have you...

You pulled away momentarily and stared up into his eyes, yours glassy with want and adoration, something that he only ever hoped you would look at him with.

"Do you wanna answer the phone?" you muttered.

"W-what?"

"Steven are you up?" There was a knock on the bedroom door and Eddie woke with a start. He groggily looked around the room, at the plaid wallpaper and the tidy belongings.

Damn. The thing that he hoped was a dream was real, and the thing he hoped was real was only a dream.

"There's someone calling for you. Did you wanna answer?" Mrs. Harrington said through the door.

"Y-yeah, uh," Eddie called out and cleared his throat. "M-mom." The word was unfamiliar on his tongue, in his brain. Like a language that hadn't been practiced in quite some time.

He hoped, at the very least, Steve didn't call her "mommy."

He had been well on his way to an early-riser if he hadn't been woken up, but nothing was a bigger boner-killer than thinking of Mrs. Harrington as "mommy."

"Alright, come downstairs when you're ready; I'm making breakfast too. Your favorite."

Eddie pushed himself out of Steve's bed for the fifth day in a row. Threw on some of Steve's clothes for the fifth day in a row.

After the discussion with the kids on Friday night, he and Steve had agreed to go through the motions, make the best of living one-another's lives and actually put in the effort. Eddie told him about the things he did to make things easier around the trailer since Wayne worked nights--the laundry, grocery shopping, bringing home a little extra money by dealing—and Steve told Eddie the things he did—driving Robin to school, working at Family Video, his "health routines."

Although, Eddie would hesitate to call shaving his chest and styling his hair something someone did for their health.

He was also hesitant to maintain Steve's morning run, considering the fact that he hated running, but found that it was easier in Steve's athletic body than in his garbage bag one—Steve's words, not his.

They also set one non-negotiable thing each, that the other must do no matter what.

For Eddie, that was Corroded Coffin and their Tuesday gigs, like the one they had that night.

He had spent the weekend coming up with a plan for them to still play, even with Steve in his body and fully unable to play the guitar. Steve had even offered to learn some easy guitar riffs or chords, but Eddie had standards to keep. It would be his luck that on the night Steve was in his body putzing around that some....record label exec would walk into the Hideout. He wasn't gonna let that fly.

So they figured out that "Steve" would be spending some time with "Eddie" at Dustin's request so they could "reconcile their differences." And in an effort to learn more about "Eddie," he would go to Corroded Coffin's shows.

Since the "stage lights" were so bright and blinding anyway, no one would know that he slipped into the supply closet where his Fender would be plugged into the equipment, while Steve faked playing an unfortunately dead Sweetheart on stage. There was more to the performance than just focusing on the music...so he'd just have to hope that none of the guys gave Steve any cues that he couldn't see.

The singing was an easy fix. Jeff was working on his confidence; Eddie would just let him be the frontman tonight. No need to worry about Steve knowing any of the songs, let alone their lyrics.

He was an optimist when it came to music though. This would work.

For Steve, it was that Eddie did not talk to his parents outside of any quick, cordial conversations. And Eddie wasn't one to pry—he had his fair share of parental issues—it just seemed weird that the mention of Ma and Pa Harrington would cause Golden Boy Stevie to choke up the way he did.

Thankfully for Eddie, the Harrington's had vibrant social lives. Thomas Harrington worked late at the car dealership and then went out for dinner and drinks with his salesmen most nights Monday through Saturday. And on Sunday he got his clubs out of the hall closet and went to the Country Club to play with his other businessman friends for most of the day. Mary Harrington was just...unexplainably gone from the house for most of the day, most days. Eddie couldn't even explain when she was home to do all of the things she seemed to do around the house.

"Steve" had the day off of work yesterday so he was home for most of the day, and short of the few hours he had left the house to take you out on another date, Mary hadn't been home at all. Miraculously, when he returned at the end of the night, his hamper was empty, his bed had been made, his new schedule was written in his calendar, and his lunch was ready in the fridge for the following day.

Eddie wondered why everyone thought he was capable of dark magic when, clearly, Mary Harrington was the town's resident witch.

This morning was the first one that he had even heard her voice, let alone be the first time he would see her as he resided in Steve’s body.

Eddie crept down the stairs and into the hall, peering around to see if Mrs. Harrington was anywhere nearby then approached the little hall table where the phone was sitting off the hook.

"Good morning, this is Steve Harrington," he greeted as he pressed the receiver to his ear. "Fine purveyor of rental videos, microwave popcorn, and movie theater candy. How can I help you?" There was giggling on the other end of the line and he grinned.

"Please don't tell me that's how you answer the phone at Family Video?" you said, instead of a "hello."

"I will now," he promised.

"No!"

"You'll just have to call more often and stop people from actually having to hear it." His smile grew at your skeptical uh huh and he continued. "What's going on this morning, honey. I thought you had class."

He could envision you leaning against a payphone, twirling a finger through a lock of your hair.

"I have a few minutes," you explained. "But I just wanted to call and say I had a really good time last night."

He had taken you to the drive in to see a double feature—House on Haunted Hill and The Bat; Eddie knew you loved Vincent Price but "Steve" just had incredibly luck—but most of the night was spent talking and holding hands and at the end of the night, he got to kiss you again.

Eddie felt triumphant once again, knowing deep down that you would like the dates he had planned over anything Steve could have come up with.

Part of the discussion with Steve about how to go about each other's lives also included you. Eddie had hesitated and asked how Steve felt that someone else was dating his girlfriend and Steve had just shrugged.

"She's a good one, I don't wanna let her get away," Steve shrugged. "You'll just have to keep her warm for me."

"Is that really the best way to build a relationship?" Eddie asked. "Lies? Tricks?"

"She doesn't have to know you're not me," Steve explained. "Just...take it easy, don't do any of the good stuff until we switch back. You wanna know some of my favorite dating spots?"

So Eddie decided...if he happened to be stuck in Steve's body forever he could have you. And if he ever made it back to his body...well...Steve wasn't exactly as smooth as people thought he was. If he couldn't keep up the loverboy act Eddie had started, you would get fed up and dump him.

And Eddie would be right there to pick up the pieces.

"Oh yeah?" Eddie laughed. "Well I'm glad. I did too. What was your favorite part?"

"Uhhh...oh! That part when you—"

The two of you chatted for a few minutes, talking and laughing easily, before you told him you had to get to class. He needed to get going too, so he could drive Robin to school.

His chest ached a little when he hung up the phone.

"It's good to see you smiling, Stevie," came a voice from over his shoulder. He jumped, seeing Mary leaning against the threshold to the living room.

"Uh, good morning," Eddie greets her.

"Were you hungry? Figured we could have a little chat over breakfast," she smiled an obviously strained smile.

Shit, how did she know? What did she know?

"I actually have to get going," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder then put his hands in his pockets. "Take Robin to school...get to work, open the shop."

"Let me get your lunch then!" Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she dashed away. Eddie wondered if he could make an escape before she came back, but before long she was pressing the brown paper bag into his hand. "I put your allowance in there too. Remember Dad can't find out about it, Steve. Please...dad can't find out. Please."

"Oh...kay," Eddie frowned. Was that the reason Steve didn't want Eddie talking to his parents? Because his dad cut him off but his mom was giving him money instead? Well, Eddie could keep a secret, and enjoy the benefits of some extra pocket money. "Sure. Mom. Whatever you say. I've gotta go."

"You have plans tonight?" she asked. "I can leave dinner for you."

"Nah, I'll probably be home late," Eddie explained. "Going out with friends."

Mary's face fell into a neutral expression, then she rolled her eyes and sighed. It was night and day from how it was just moments before, and it was incredibly uncomfortable for Eddie.

"You can't do this forever Steven," she shook her head. "Keep me at arms length. I'm your mother. I'm trying."

"I don't...I'm sorry mom. I've gotta go."

Eddie scooped Steve's keys out of the little dish on the table and headed towards the front door.

"I'm trying, Steven," Mary called after him cryptically. "You can't be mad at me forever."

Tuesdays were your favorite day of the week.

Well they weren't...your favorite; did anyone even have a favorite day of the week?

To be completely honest, they were actually kind of nasty.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were the days you had the heaviest course load at the Community College. Your first class started at 7am—you thought they would be easy thanks to your early starts in high school, but you thought wrong—and aside from a brief, squeezed-in lunch break at 11:45, you had classes straight until 3. Tuesdays also meant Bingo at the Rec center and an early dinner rush of senior citizens at Benny's that started right at the beginning of your shift. So no breaks again until closer to 6? Or 7? Or later if the actual dinner rush ran long.

And Benny was a nice guy, right? He always let you take an extra 5 minutes when he made his rounds about the restaurant to greet the regulars.

But Lynn? The curmudgeonly opening waitress who had been around Benny's before it was even Benny's?! Who had been doing this for longer than you'd been alive? Lynn spent the tiny bit of overlap in your shifts criticizing everything you did.

Every. Little. Thing.

Usually you could ignore her, but on Tuesdays when you were just one...big mass of irritation, it took everything in you not to flip her the bird as she left. Just one big "fuck you, you miserable old bitch" to her back as she retreated to her clunky, old Mercury Monterey.

As soon as her tail lights were out of sight from the diner windows and she was a little too far to turn back and chastise you about something she forgot to earlier—she had done that enough for it to always be a valid fear—you got to breathe.

You suddenly gained a sense of serenity and joy.

Because Tuesday wasn't your favorite day. Tuesday nights were your favorite nights.

Corroded Coffin came in on Tuesdays. Eddie came in on Tuesdays.

You told yourself going into the day...well, now that you were dating Steve...it was going to be different. It had to be different. The date on Friday really felt like Steve had turned a new leaf; he was moving on from Nancy and was actually gonna give this thing with you a chance.

And your date with him the night before? It had been so perfect; you hadn't even thought about Eddie once. Well...actually...

That fleeting thought you had about Eddie on Friday night, wondering how he might kiss you, left a pit in your stomach. And it had returned with a vengeance after Steve had kissed you last night too. Enough so that it practically kept you up all night from guilt and made you call him this morning to tell him...

I really had a good time with you last night but when you kissed me I thought of someone else.

...to tell him what a great time you had, and that you were excited to see him again.

And it wasn't a lie. You were excited to see him. Excited for this change in him. Excited for the attention and affection he freely gave you during these last two dates that he, generally, hadn't given you during the first two.

You owed it to Steve, and to yourself, to give it a chance. And in order for it to be a fair chance, you had to make a clear distinction in your mind that...well...Steve was...your boyfriend now, and Eddie? Eddie was unfortunately just a friend.

A friend you wanted to kiss.

God this was gonna be difficult.

You could still be nice to him, still look forward to Tuesday nights when he and the guys would come in. They were fun nights filled with music and silly arguments and a textbook example of "boys will be boys."

You simply had to remember that all of those little extra things you did—make sure his favorite booth was free, ask Benny for pickles on his patty melt that he always forgot to ask for, or give him extra whipped cream on his slice of pie—weren't because you wanted Eddie to like you. Or notice you. Or maybe ask you out one day.

It was because you were his friend.

You had even come up with some foolproof plan to get the butterflies to stop flapping in your stomach when you did all of those little things for Eddie. Because you certainly couldn't stop doing them; that would be suspicious. Instead, every time your heart would beat a little harder for Eddie, you would just...think of Steve. His smile and his laugh and his kiss...

It would be so easy.

And certainly much easier tonight of all nights, as Steve walked into Benny's with Corroded Coffin, laughing along to some joke Jeff told before they had opened the door.

It would be so easy.

"Hey guys," you greeted nervously and turned to Steve. "What are you doing here?"

“What a lovely greeting Honey,” Steve chuckled and quickly glanced around before he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment as Eddie and the boys watched the interaction, Dave and Gareth giving Eddie pointed looks, which he ignored.

How strange.

“Steve, please,” you laughed nervously. “I’m at work.”

“Well the boss isn’t around,” Steve pointed out.

“Uh…w-well I have your usual booth ready guys,” you greeted Eddie and his friends.

"Harrington's joining us tonight," Eddie pointed out. "Can we get a table or instead?"

"I can just pull an extra chair up to the booth," you offered, knowing Eddie really liked the view out of the window.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "That booth does sound nice, Eddie. I don't mind a chair."

"No, we'll get a table," Eddie waved a hand dismissively. "Everyone good with that?" The rest of the guys agreed and Steve huffed an agreement beside you.

"Ok, uh," you stammered. "Wherever you guys wanna sit then, I'm the only one here tonight. And Ben. As usual."

It wasn't...terrible or anything, them wanting a table, it just threw off your cadence. If they had sat in the booth, you already had menus, waters, and silverware set out. Now you had to move everything across the restaurant because Eddie had beelined for a round table in the corner.

It was fine.

Steve hung back for a second and pulled you to the side.

"Hey, uh, is it ok that I'm here?" he asked. "You look a little flustered."

"Yeah, no I'm ok," you gave him a small smile. "Just wasn't expecting you. And I've had a bit of a long day. Kind of overdue for my last break too."

"You should ask Benny if you can take your break," Steve offered. "We'll be fine. The guys are hungry but they'll have to wait regardless."

"The...guys..." you narrowed your eyes at Steve. It felt too familiar coming from his mouth. "What are you doing here with them Steve?"

There was a beat as Steve's eyes got a little bigger and he looked down at his feet for a second before he cleared his throat.

"Listen Honey, I took what you said the other day to heart," Steve started quietly, inching a little closer to you. "About Eddie being your friend. I figured...he had something going on with him, I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. So I went to check up on him and...I don't know, turns out the guy isn't half bad when you get to know him."

"Really?" you asked blankly. You had no reason not to trust him but...going from calling someone a dangerous freak who should be in jail to hanging out with him and his friends in just a few days...seemed drastic.

But when you stared into his hazel eyes, there wasn't a hint of deceit in them.

"Sure," he shrugged a little. "I even went and watched his band play tonight."

"You did?" You were sure the craziest music Steve was into was Van Halen, if that. All of the tapes in his car were…rocky and poppy and nothing outside of the Top 40 charts.

"They're pretty good," he grinned. "Very good actually. They did Flight of Icarus and Mr. Crowley."

"You...listen to metal?" you asked with a frown.

"Uh," Steve shrugged again. "There's some good songs. And Ozzy. Who doesn't know Ozzy?"

"You gonna sit there and chit chat all night Harrington?" Eddie called from the table and the rest of the guys all chuckled. Steve's eyes hardened for a second but he gave you a gentle smile before he went to join them.

You didn't always go outside during your breaks; more often than not, you would sit in the kitchen, do some homework, and chat with Benny as he manned the grill. You'd think a middle-aged man and a 19-year old would have nothing in common, but Benny was honestly like an aloof father figure. He just stood there as you talked or complained about this or that, offered advice or lame jokes. It was perfect.

But tonight was just...confusing.

You tried to make the best of it, you really did. You brought the guys everything they needed, you smiled shyly when Steve reached over and held your hand as he ordered...

He even asked for a little kiss and you reluctantly gave him a peck on the cheek.

But it was Eddie.

He was being a real douchebag. Not to everyone else; just to you.

You had gotten their table set up and then went to check on the other customers and get their drink orders. But when you came back, he didn't even want his Dr. Pepper. He said water was fine.

When you asked everyone if they wanted their usuals—Patty Melts all around. No onions for Dave, extra sauce for Gareth, on a bun instead of rye for Jeff, and add pickles for Eddie—Eddie changed his mind and ordered a bacon cheeseburger instead. Ok, no big deal. It wasn't the first time he'd changed it up.

But then he had just been...picky.

The fries were overdone, the bacon wasn't crispy, it wasn't medium well.

You had brought his food back to the kitchen 3 times, and Benny even offered to kill Eddie for you to get you to laugh.

"He's a good kid but maybe it's his time of the month or something," Benny shrugged, urging you to let things slide. "Got bitten by a werewolf. Or turned into a vampire or something. I could even put some garlic powder on the fries, see if it does him in."

He then told you to go take your break, that he would take the burger back out and make sure none of the guys were having any problems with their food.

"Or else," he raised his spatula as though it was a deadly weapon.

Who knows, Benny kept things to himself, maybe he could kill someone with a spatula...

You were leaning against the grey stucco on the side of the building, enjoying the slight breeze, when there was a crunch of gravel off to the side. You turned your head to see Steve standing there with a small smile and his hands in his pockets.

"You doing ok, honey?" he asked.

"Yeah, just a long day like I said," you explained.

"How was class?"

"Stupid. How was work?"

"Stupid." He grinned wider. "I, uh, was really looking forward to seeing you tonight though."

You pursed your lips to stop the smile from making it onto your face.

"You really wanted to see me in my stupid uniform?" you asked, holding your hands out to emphasize the shapeless blue dress. "I look like Hazel."

"Did I ever tell you that I had the biggest crush on Shirley Booth when I was a kid?" You broke out in laughter. "What? What's so funny? Hazel might just be my type, did you ever think of that?"

"You are..." you started, but paused and shook your head dismissively as he got closer to you.

"I'm?" he questioned, leaning over to take one of your hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"You're not...what I expected Steve Harrington to be like," you muttered. His eyes went wide for a second as they darted back and forth between yours. "You're so much better."

"Of course I'm better, it's because I'm..." He faltered for a moment. "It's because I'm crazy about you, honey."

Your heart dropped into your stomach...

Steve was...crazy about you?

"You just make me wanna dance," he chuckled and took a step back, pulling you with him. He lifted your arm and made to twirl you around, and you laughed as you tripped on the gravel drive. He urged you to try again and you managed to twirl this time, apron flaring.

Round and around until you got a little dizzy and he pulled you to his chest.

"Hi Honey," he whispered as he rocked you back and forth to some unheard tune.

"Hi," you giggled breathlessly.

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't always have to ask."

"But can?"

"Always."

Then his lips pressed to yours and you closed your eyes and you were surrounded by him again. Noses brushing, his lips softly pecking at yours, his hands tugging you closer as you reached up to hold his face in yours.

He pulled away briefly to drop little kisses on the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. Your eyes opened and you watched your own fingers thread through his hair, seemingly leading him further along to your neck, but instead it was just an unwitting follower because the choice to suck a bruising kiss at your pulse point was anything but yours.

You grasped at him tighter as something between a whimper and a moan exited you, and he chuckled in a husky, smokey way before laving his tongue over the abused spot.

You closed your eyes again, luxuriating in the moment and all things Steve Harrington...then it hit you.

All of the other senses got to you first—touch and taste, and sound and sight—and now it was smell. And it wasn't what you had initially associated with Steve, that bright, citrus scent.

It was musky and sweaty and spicy and a little bit sweet. There was a heavy undertone of tobacco beneath it all.

Eddie.

"Hey kid, break time's over!" Benny hollered into the night and you pushed yourself away from Steve, stumbling over the gravel drive once again. His hands reached out for you, to pull you back or to steady you, you couldn't be sure.

You regained your footing and batted his hands away to quickly fix your rumpled uniform and wipe at your lips with the back of your hand.

"You good Honey?" Steve chuckled. "You need a minute?"

"Uhh, yeah, I'll be in there in just a second," you waved him back inside. He gave you a wink and a smug smile before he turned and headed back to the door.

Your posture went slack for a second as you tried to control your heart rate and your thoughts. And where your head should have been consumed with thoughts of Steve, instead they were filled with—

"Nope! No. No more!" You stomped your feet and gave your face a few light slaps. "No more. Bad."

You took a few deep breaths, regained your composed service persona, and headed back in.

You spotted the guys table had been cleared, so you got ready for the best part of the night.

Benny was a realist who knew how to do burgers, fries, and shakes, and outside of that, didn't push the ticket. Which meant all of the desserts came from the local bakery every afternoon. They even came pre-sliced.

The whipped cream however? Benny was a connoisseur. He boasted to everyone that had the patience to hear about it that it wasn't cool whip, it wasn't from a squeeze can. If there was whipped cream on a shake or a dessert it was fresh.

"Nothing good in life comes without a little effort," he said the first time he handed you the hand-crank-egg beater-turned-cream-whipper that was, most assuredly, older than you.

So you spent the next few minutes plating everyone's desserts, whipping the cream, and getting it all looking perfect. It might have been the end of their meal, but it was the highlight of your night.

You would take a win where you could. Because everything else felt...

"Alright guys, time for dessert?" you asked, bringing the tray to their table.

You went clockwise starting with Eddie at the head of the table.

Cherry pie for Eddie, Apple for Gareth and Dave, Cheesecake for Jeff.

"And I didn't know what you'd like Steve," you told him with a sad smile. "But just let me know what sounds good and I can go grab it for you."

You were about to start putting dollops of whipped cream on everyone's dessert when Eddie pushed his plate further out from him.

"I didn't ask for Cherry," he said with a sniff.

Everything went quiet.

"Uh," Dave looked at the other guys at the table. "Cherry is your favorite man."

"I don't know, I'm not in a cherry pie mood," Eddie dismissed. He looked up at you "Can I get cheesecake instead? No whipped cream."

"S-sure," you smiled.

You were about to grab the cherry pie from the table to bring it back when Steve reached out and pulled it towards him.

"I'll just take this one," he reasoned. "Cherry actually is my favorite, and I am definitely in a cherry pie mood."

Eddie laughed.

"Whatever you say Harrington," he teased with a roll of his eyes. "Guess you have to get an extra long run in tomorrow if you're indulging so much. Mr. Star Athlete over here."

The

"I'm not gonna say no to cherry pie," Steve shrugged then looked at you. "Can I get extra cream on mine honey?"

He winked at you and you felt your face heating up, but you kept your mouth shut. You went around piping the whipped cream on everyone else's desserts, then ran back to the kitchen to get Eddie's.

As soon as the door swung shut behind you, you started to feel sick.

Something was wrong...

It was just off, you'd been feeling it all night. But you couldn't put a finger on it until now.

It was Eddie...

He was still his funny self...for the most part. But just like the other day at Family Video, he just seemed to be operating on a different frequency. And you wondered for a second if maybe it was you...or maybe it was Steve...maybe the fact that Steve was here and he wasn't...being very discreet with his affections. Neither were you, if you were being honest.

Was he...angry? Jealous?

He was the one to invite Steve out in the first place, so it seemed. Something just didn't make sense...

Steve had to admit that he was having fun.

It had barely been a few days of being Eddie Munson, but it was great. He spent most of the weekend with the kids learning the basics of DnD and putting together some things for a campaign.

He still didn't really get the whole game part, actually. But spending time with the kids? He wouldn't say no.

Having to go to school again wasn't...the greatest. Especially when all of the teachers seemed to have it out for Eddie. Steve just...started paying a little more attention, stopped being a general menace during class. He dug deep to remember some of the coursework from last year...and vaguely wondered how much Eddie didn't pay attention in class in the first place. Steve was not a model student and he could still remember this stuff, so he figured Eddie should be getting an A+ in all of his classes he was repeating now for a second time.

He was sorely mistaken.

Eddie's friends were also...pretty nice too, he had to admit. He had never really given the Hellfire Club the time of day when he was still at Hawkins High, aside from the obvious, but they were actually pretty nice guys.

The music though? It had been the highlight of his week so far.

Steve hadn't ever really understood what the big whoop the theater kids got performing but it was an adrenaline rush, something he hadn't felt for months since he was no longer a star athlete. He hadn't even been playing the guitar but the high of being on that raised platform, having the lights in his eyes, having his heart beat in time with the drum. He hammed it up a bit on the stage once he felt confident enough, like he had seen in one concert or another.

It wasn't the kind of music he liked, really, but he could get used to it if only to chase that rush.

And Steve had felt like a king again when Jeff had clapped him on the shoulder at the end of the set and excitedly gushed on that being the first time he had ever fully landed some solo or another.

Except..."Eddie" hadn't nailed the solo. Eddie had.

And as infectious as the celebration was, it made him feel a little guilty that Eddie couldn't even properly celebrate what must have been an exciting moment. Instead he just sauntered out from the little alcove they had set up and watched Steve take the credit for his accomplishments.

Steve went through the motions, just like they had agreed on, for the rest of the night.

They went to Benny's with "Steve" in tow at "Eddie's" insistence—he couldn't be left alone with Eddie's friends, he just knew he would fuck something up and give it all away—and had their late night bites.

And you were there, laughing and chatting and doting on all of the guys, especially "Steve." Even though it sucked watching you kiss his cheek, knowing it was really Eddie inside…it was nice to know that he had something to look forward to once he got back into his own body.

Something real. Something he thought he had with Nancy.

Now that the remnants of dessert were pretty much over and the guys were just shooting the shit until Benny kicked them out, Steve wandered across the restaurant to the old jukebox to pick out some music.

He briefly wondered what the response would be if “Eddie” picked something like Billy Joel. He couldn't give less of a shit though. "Eddie" might not like it but Steve was a little tired of metal after hearing it all night, after all.

"Hey Eddie?" your voice came from behind him and he turned to face you.

"Yeah, hey...uh...sweetheart," he gave you an easy smile. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok," you explained. “You seem…I dunno, kinda off tonight.”

“What?” Steve faltered. He seemed off? How? If you could tell…could the others?

”Yeah you didn’t…want your regular order, you didn’t want pie,” you shrugged. “Didn’t even want whipped cream on your cheesecake.”

Shit.

How was it that he could flawlessly fake his way through a guitar solo, but not this?

"I...uh...," he started hesitantly, wracking his brain for an excuse. He dug deep, deeper than he thought was possible, and he came up with...

Dinner with his parents. His father pushing away a plateful of food. His mother looking tired and bored.

"Sometimes people's tastes change," he finished.

It was a painful answer for him to give...but he didn't think you and Eddie were close enough for your expression to crumple the way it did. It probably wasn't the kind of answer Eddie would give to a friend—he had seen how protective he had been over them even before this whole fiasco—but if it meant getting you off his back, he would easily do something that would push you away.

"You know I've been worried about you," you stared. "The other day, outside of Family Video. It was so incredibly scary. And if you're having a tough time..."

"Uh, yeah," Steve folded his arms across his chest awkwardly. "Sorry about that. It was just...just a bad high. I'm ok now. No need to worry."

"Ok," you nodded hesitantly. Steve thought you would just turn on your heel and walk away.

But you didn't.

“Listen I know we’re not…super close or anything,” you hesitated. Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded for you to continue. “I just…I want you to know you aren’t alone.”

“Thanks, uh, I appreciate that,” he nodded and smiled tightly.

"And if there is something going on, you can trust me."

"Of course."

"You know," you paused and looked down at your hands. It was several beats of you taking deep breaths and looking down at your hands, and Steve wondered if you were waiting for some kind of response...or thinking the right words to say next. You glanced up and frowned. "I had a-a c-crush on you in high school."

His heart dropped in his chest and suddenly it felt like Nancy all over again. Telling him that she didn't love him, telling him that it was over, that their relationship was fake, that she didn't even know she was ready to be in a relationship. Only to show up with Jonathan Byers to the Sadie Hawkins dance a few weeks later.

Steve thought everything was working out so well with you. He watched you...kiss his cheek.

Were you planning on breaking up with him?

He wanted to lash out, like a wild animal, tell you all of the things he wishes he could have said to Nancy.

Except...

Except he wasn't Steve Harrington at that moment, he was Eddie Munson.

And you weren't confessing your feelings in a way like someone with a crush would. You didn't look happy or excited. You didn't even really look like your usual sweet and kind self. You looked conflicted.

Because, he realized, he did watch you kiss his cheek. He, Steve, watched you kiss "Steve's" cheek.

If you weren't here to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him, then what were you doing?

"I-I mean, we both did," you backtracked with a little laugh and Steve frowned. "Me and Terry. You remember Terry right? I mean, of course you do."

Steve didn't know who Terry was, but "Eddie" would.

"Of course I do."

""Right," you smiled. "Anyway, we both had a crush on you. And there was this time...I don't know, you don't want to hear about this."

"You're dating Steve now," he pointed out. "Why are you telling me this? Why are you telling me that you—"

"I guess," you interrupted him but hesitated again. "You seemed pretty lonely last year, all the times we talked. Even if they weren't...talks? Just small talk. But...after Mickey left for college and you stayed behind—"

That's right, Mickey Caldwell...and his sister Terry...

"--well you have the band and all...but...no one even wanted to be your partner in class but me. And now...you have to do it again and I'm sure it's even harder now."

Steve was catching on.

You weren't there to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him. You were just being a good friend. Because even though Eddie had his group of misfit friends...

He was lonely.

Steve knew the feeling. Aside from Robin and the kids...he really didn't have anyone around either. He had just been thinking about how nice it was to spend time with Eddie and his friends after all.

Steve had been jealous that Eddie was spending all of this time with the kids...taking them away from Steve, when he was just as lonely as Steve was...if not more so.

It gave him an idea...

"So," you broke Steve from his thoughts. "If you ever...want to talk. I'm here for you. You have me, always, if ever you want."

You smiled then. Bright and hopeful.

"Well, thanks, sweetheart," he nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I appreciate it...really...it's very nice of you. You're a really good friend."

He didn't see—didn't notice—how your smile fell as he walked past you to get back to the table with the rest of the guys.

Eddie walked into the familiar darkness of the Harrington house, a good exhaustion settling in his bones as he trudged up the stairs and into his bedroom.

He went through the motions of getting ready for bed. with a peaceful smile on his face. It had been a good day, the likes of which he really hadn’t felt in a long time. If ever.

The show at the Hideout then dinner at Benny’s. Dancing with you, kissing you, and holding you in his arms.

He could see your smile in his mind’s eye clear as day.

He didn’t want to delude himself into thinking it was love or…or happiness…it was just joy. Plain and simple. And it brought him so much comfort, knowing he could be the one to provide that for you.

Once he was in bed though, and he replayed specific moments over again, that comfort soon faded.

He tried to sleep, he really did.

But every thought he had, he thought of you. Looking perfect in your little uniform. Your laugh as you spoke to everyone, the special attention you gave him. You looked at him the way he always wanted you to.

You moaned the way he could only ever have imagined when he kissed your neck. It was filthy and still ringing in his ears hours later.

He’d wanted to touch you, just like he did in his dream that morning and it was even nicer than he had imagined.

The only thing that would have made it better was if he was in his own body. If it was him, Eddie Munson, that you were looking at and feeling things for and moaning for.

It was with all of that and at the reminder of the dream that he had been so rudely pulled from that morning, that Eddie started getting hot under the collar.

It wasn’t about sex, really; it was intimacy. And that’s what he wanted more than anything. The closeness with you. To know you. To be with you.

He closed his eyes and imagined your smile directed at him again, the way you put your hand on his shoulder when you asked if everyone was alright, and then fixed his hair a little bit when you went to leave.

His hair…he’d always been sensitive about it and even in this other body…in his own body…giving it a tug always helped get his motor running.

Eddie reached up and gave Steve’s hair an experimental tug, the short few days not nearly enough for him to be used to the difference in length and texture. It felt crunchy from all the product he had put in and it immediately felt uncomfortable on his fingers.

No touching the hair, noted.

He vaguely wondered, were his nerves on fire because this body was sensitive and aroused and receptive to your attention. Or was it because he, Eddie Munson, resided inside.

Only one way to find out.

He palmed himself over the comforter, then over his sweats, but it wasn’t enough.

Eddie didn’t hesitate to strip himself of his sweats and the suffocating briefs, and he propped the pillows behind him in a more comfortable way so he could…well so he could watch if he wanted to.

Right now he just wanted to imagine. To feel.

The thought of touching himself had vaguely crossed his mind the other day, after he’d jumped into a cold shower shortly after he’d woken up with morning wood. He wondered if that was crossing a line though. Steve’s dick…was just a dick. Just like his dick was a dick. The same but different. And he’d seen different ones before and yeah some were weird or different sized…did it matter?

If Eddie thought about it from a mechanical sense…a car was a car, no matter who the owner was, or how cautious or rough the driver was…and even two cars of the same make and model could have their very unique quirks…

As long as everything worked and you got from Point A to Point B right?

So he closed his eyes and imagined.

You were there, of course, back outside of Benny’s. He was making you laugh and twirling you around, just like he had earlier that night. Watching your little uniform skirt balloon out just the slightest bit. It wasn’t ruffly or anything, just a standard waitress uniform with a straight skirt.

It didn’t take much touching to get him fully hard; he’d spent enough time exploring to know what he liked so he just let the feelings guide him in this new body.

He licked his palm several times then spit in his hand before he held the shaft loosely. He gave it a few loose strokes before he tightened his grip a little and twisted, hissing at the sweet friction.

But this was his fantasy, so your uniform could be anything. Flowier, shorter, enough to see the frilly lace edge of your panties when he twirled you and the skirt flared.

“Didn’t know you were trying to turn this sweet moment into a peep show,” you giggled at him and swatted at his chest as he pulled you into his chest to rock together with him.

“I dunno honey,” he sighed. “I think I would be seeing more than just some lace if this was a peep show.”

“Well, what did you have in mind, big boy?”

The hand that had been resting near his head immediately went down to cup and squeeze his balls, and his throat got tighter as he held in a strangled moan. He wasn’t…too sure if he liked it all that much…but he was positive that he didn’t dislike it. He could make himself grow to like it if he needed to.

He stilled the stroking to run his fingers over the head; a favorite little move of his where he pivoted his wrist, letting the joints in his fingers run over the tip and around the head of his cock, hitting all of his sensitive spots in varying intervals. It wasn’t the same, his fingers weren’t as long now, as he noted while he was playing the guitar earlier.

Regardless, pleasure still surged through him, so it got the job done.

“No peeking,” you whispered against his lips and you covered his eyes with his hands. He’d asked for your panties and you’d agreed without hesitation. If this wasn’t a dream, he would never have been that lucky. He chuckled as your hands pulled away from his and it took everything in him not to look through his fingers at the sound of the rustling of your uniform.

Suddenly your hands were on the waist of his jeans, working the button open and the zipper downwards.

“Honey, what are you doing?” he teased. “You being naughty?” He just about pulled his hands away from his eyes and you snatched your hands away from him.

“Nooo,” you sing-songed. “No looking yet, I’ll tell you when.”

The ache for him to chase his release was different than he was used to. The best way to describe what he usually felt was…dulcet…smooth…it danced along his nerve endings and made him want more. Drove him to do more, to explore more. A siren’s song to tug and twist and tease until he was floating. But now it was almost…primordial. It leached into his skin and deep into his bones; a hefty, cloying need that would grip his entire being whole and drag him into the depths of the earth itself if it could.

It was a delicious contrast, the difference between the softness of your hand wrapped around him and the slight drag from your panties as you used them to help get him off.

You spit on his tip and let it mingle with his precum, let it slide over the sensitive skin.

Eddie spit in his hand again, trying to achieve that feeling that his imagination conjured up but was just outside of the corporeal.

“Do you like it?” you asked and he could hear the feral grin in your voice.

“I like it,” he moaned.

“Do you like me?”

“I love you,” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, I would love you so if you just let me.”

He was close, it was euphoric. His nerves exploding, synapses firing as he twisted his hand around the head just so, squeezed his balls again, and then the base of his cock.

“Ok you can look now.”

And he did, directly into those mischievous, knowing eyes of yours as you looked right back at him.

“Cum for me Steve.”

And…he couldn’t…he couldn’t…

Eddie opened his eyes and stared around the room–a room that wasn’t his–looked down at the hands that weren’t his, touching the cock that wasn’t his.

Because as much as Eddie could simply…compartmentalize and rationalize for however long he had been in his little fantasy…

It was Steve, it was all Steve. All you wanted right now was Steve Harrington and not Eddie Munson. You probably would never want Eddie.

And maybe one day–if he was still cursed to live like this, if he was stuck in this body until the end of his life–he could live with the fact that you wanted Steve.

But as his pleasure evaded him and all of the sad thoughts returned, he simply couldn’t escape the simple fact that his honey didn’t want him…she wanted someone else.

The guys had left shortly after your...interaction with Eddie.

Your confession.

The sweet kiss Steve had given you before they had left was...wonderful. But it was like the glue holding together the broken vase on that one episode of the Brady Bunch.

The feelings were building, the pressure too much, and before long...you sprung a leak and the reality of what you had done hit you. It had you shaking. Benny must have known something was wrong; he had asked you all through your closing tasks if you were alright.

"You good kid?" He asked. "Cuz I can finish up if you wanna get home. I know today's your busy day."

Truth be told, he always asked you that, but the extra edge of concern to his voice was a dead giveaway that you weren't doing a good job of holding it together.

“Nah Ben,” you smiled meekly. “I’m ok. Tired. But I’ll make it. Thanks.”

You started hyperventilating by the time you got into your car.

“Stupid, you’re so stupid,” you muttered to yourself. “How could you tell him?”

You weren’t even sure what possessed you to say anything, what compelled you to stop and say those dumb words.

You know, I had a crush on you.

What did you expect him to say...confess that he had a crush on you too?

Declare his undying love for you?

Instead he just called you a friend.

By the time you reached the 5th street intersection, you rationalized that, at the very least, you hadn’t mentioned that you still had a crush on Eddie. And as you pulled into your driveway, you were panicking again because…well what did this mean now that Steve was spending time with Eddie?

Would he say anything? God, did Steve already know?

It really was nice that Steve was hanging out with Eddie...they seemed to get along well enough. And yeah Eddie had the guys but…well, it wasn’t a stretch to say that Eddie could use as many friends on his side as he could get. He always put on a brave face but that didn’t mean he never felt lonely. Or alone. Stuck in a place he desperately didn’t want to be.

You just wanted to tell him it was ok. That he had you if he want—

"God, stop," you slammed your hands against the steering wheel as though it would force the thoughts from your brain. As though it would stop your heart from aching. "Stop thinking about him, you have to stop thinking about him."

Because the more you thought about Eddie, the more you’d want to comfort him.

And the more you wanted to comfort him, the more you’d want to hold him and kiss him.

And he’d made it plenty clear tonight that he didn’t see you as anything more than Mickey’s Kid Sister’s Silly Friend.

Or at least that’s just how it felt.

Another busybody townie who couldn’t mind their own business, who had to offer words of encouragement, who pitied him.

No. Not that. He didn't give people who pitied him the time of day. What if...

Bile rose in your throat as you came to a realization.

What if he didn’t just see you as another silly townie? What if he had known? He had known you had a crush on him all along, and he had taken pity on you. Because you were Terry's friend, he didn't want you to get hurt. And now that you were with Steve...he couldn't let you keep your hopes up anymore? You had a real boyfriend now.

That was it...

He was just...being nice to you all this time.

And that...hurt.

The realization of all that wasted time. Years spent thinking...hoping...

You made it into your house, went through the motions of getting ready for bed, and numbly said goodnight to your mom as your mind raced and raced and your heart broke even more.

It wasn't until you were tucked into bed, head filled with sad thoughts of every time you thought that maybe...just maybe Eddie liked you back, that you remembered.

Your diary.

Some silly old pink think that Terry had gotten you for your birthday years ago. You didn't write in it too often—you hadn't ever really been a diary person—certainly not recently. It was tucked into your nightstand underneath magazines and random junk from your school bag.

You sat up, turned the lamp on, and opened the drawer. You dug through the junk until you found it.

You flipped indiscriminately through pages filled with doodles and random thoughts. Until you came across entries from your freshman year at Hawkins High.

Silly things about class schedules and how mean Mrs. O'Donnell was and how you were not good in geometry.

And then...hearts and stars and flowers and one name repeated over and over and over...

Eddie Munson. Edward Munson. Mrs. Edward Munson.

You ran your fingers over the indentations your pen made in the pages as you read your own silly words.

Eddie invited us to sit with them at lunch.Terry said no, that she wanted to sit closer to the cheerleaders. Maybe they would be nicer to us if they actually knew we existed.

Eddie held open the door for me when I passed him in the hallway.

Eddie got his driver's license. He and his uncle fixed up this van and now he's driving Mickey and Terry to school. He asked if I wanted a ride too, said he would let me ride shotgun on Fridays. He's so sweet.

Eddie called me sweetheart today. I swear my heart stopped. I am dead. I have died.

Terry said she has a crush on someone but she won't tell me who it is. I really want to tell her that I have a crush on Eddie. Maybe if she knew, she could say nice things to him about me.

She likes him too. She wants him to ask her to prom. She keeps asking who my crush is and of course I can't tell her. Because he would obviously choose her over me, who am I kidding?

It's the last entry in the diary and the page is warped from old tears and scribbled over with pen.

After that day, you buried the diary in your nightstand. You kept your thoughts to yourself. Writing them down made them real and scary. Instead you let your secrets fester and grow and rot inside of your heart.

You didn't realize you'd started crying until fresh tears started hitting the already-warped page.

"Shit," you scrubbed at your eyes for a second and then stared at the journal as your throat got tight.

Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson.

His name written over and over and over again. Obsessively.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

Just like Steve had been with Nancy. Always talking about her and thinking about her.

All of your wasted feelings. From both of you.

But Steve had moved on. And so could you.

You ripped the warped page out of the diary and tore it to pieces. And then the next page. And the next one. Over and over until your thoughts and feelings were ripped to confetti on your bedspread.

No more.

It was time to move on from Eddie Munson.

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@luna-munson83 @kaitebugg03 @invaderzia1 @delusionalbabe @secretdryrose @eddiesguitarskills @simplyundeniable98 @imaslutforcuddles @hanobe8 @josephquinncore @champagnejoker @strawberrysodaslut @fangirling-4-ever @sadbitchfangirl @rosaline-black @vxlkyrieee @aysheashea @micheledawn1975 @thora-jane @pricelessemotion @lfaewrites @hazydespair @realsuper-dark @novelnovella @jaime1110 @manda-panda-monium

#eddie munson x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #Steve harrington fluff #Steve harrington angst #Eddie munson smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #Eddie munson stranger things #Steve harrington stranger things #freaky friday au #god this took forever but im so happy with where it landed #holy shit how are they all gonna fix this now

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fillinforlater · 1 year

Text

On her bottom (Part 1/2)

Male Reader x Cho Miyeon (ft. Monday, Xiaoting)

Length: 3338 words

Tags: DADDY KINK, degradation, self-degradation, dom!reader, sub!idol, anal, rough sex, hardcore, curses, name calling, overstimulation, begging, sex as service, blowjob, deepthroat, face fuck, hateful sex, foot job, (very rough) pussy slaps, emotional manipulation, failure!Miyeon / disappointed!Daddy

TW: the usual, please: Degradation, rough sex, name calling, pussy slapping

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies and I just... we just pop when it comes to Daddy and his good/bad girls, yk?

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing and providing the pics!

(A/N: Read "On her knees" first for extra context. It's in the same universe, same OC. Part 2/2 will be released a couple days later!)

"Daddy, oh my God, I'm so close."

Monday is insatiable. Even if you could somehow shove your cock into her for 24 hours straight each day of the year it wouldn't be enough for her needy pussy. It doesn't concern you, but whenever you tend to her needs, it's annoying and exhausting. Not her pussy, not her ass, but her attitude mixed with her subbyness—you just can't help but fuck her.

Today, her face is buried into one of your couches while you fuck her doggystyle into it. Her wet hole clenches on nothing and squirts cum everywhere. She knows a group comeback is coming up (fucking finally) and is ready to take your last load deep into her defiled ass. With a final groan, you plunge it into her.

"F-fuck, Daddy! Thank you, Daddy, I love you!"

Monday tenses up one final time before you pull out. Her entire body suddenly relaxes and in seconds, she is soundly asleep. You roll your eyes and stretch your arms. You deserve some rest as well, but if you stay here any longer, she might wake up again and demand your cock with her subby eyes and killer body. You gotta get out of here—

Something unexpected: your phone rings. You hastily grab it to not wake up Monday (though nothing could wake her up from the new, sex-induced dreamland) and take the call. With no time to check who actually called, the voice surprises you.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Daddy~ Are you free for meeeee?"

"Miyeon? Why are you call—oh no, don't tell me."

"What? Doesn't Daddy want me to treat him well~? I know you must be stressed from all these greedy rookies and young sluts, ugh!"

You take a deep sigh of relief. Miyeon has hit the nail on the head and her offer sounds very much irresistible. Whatever she will do to 'treat you well', it's probably better than a desperate demand for a hard fucking which your hips and legs just can't take anymore.

"You are fucking right. They are greedy. But not as greedy as you. Calling me on my private phone to ask for me, ts, who do you think you are?" you joke and collect the designer clothes spread around your main living (and fucking) room.

"Oh? They still walk to your house to beg for cock? Do you still live in the 19th century, or what?" Miyeon jokes as well, but she knows very well why the new whores don't get to call you. They need to know their place and that their desires are last in line when it comes to relevance.

"You have earned that right to call me. So: where do we meet, bitch?"

"I'll send you the address and some pictures, Daddy. See ya~"

The second the call ends, you put on a plain, gray hoodie as well as sunglasses. You might not be an idol, but people might still recognize your face wherever you go. These short-term meet-ups should at least be enjoyed with some form of caution.

As you're about to leave your house, someone knocks at the front door. An annoyed looking idol, frustrated from dance practice, needy for stress relief and ready to do whatever it takes to get your cock. In the past, different names would pop up in your head. There was Jennie who did the same or Sana, but today it’s no other than Xiaoting.

"Oh. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Daddy! P-please! Use my tight little holes, fill me with cum and—"

"Stop screaming your dumb whore!" you hiss and cover her mouth. The intimidated girl notices her mistake and begs for mercy through her glistening eyes. You look at her slutty attire, pencil skirt, thigh-highs, ripped shirt, hot glasses—but she made a mistake and unfortunately, you have no time for her.

"Why are you not on your knees? For sluts like you I have no time. I have business to attend to."

"B-but I will take your cock good, Daddy! My ass—"

You slap across her face and she drops to her knees with a disappointed whine.

"Crawl into the house. Kneel next to the door like an obedient dog and wait. I'll decide later if I have time for you, bitch!"

She nods quietly and crawls through the door and into the entrance hall. Her skirt is so short, you can see a diamond plug protrude from in between her firm ass cheeks. She almost got you there, but Miyeon is more important, your rest is more important then some cock-hungry rookie. You dart off immediately.

After this incident with one of your new pets, it gave you all the more reason to high tail to Miyeon's, to see someone who understood, no, was devoted to your pleasure and every word. Insolence could be fun to break, but it required energy. Miyeon was generous, she knew her function, her only purpose was to serve you. That's what you need right now. A good girl. And Miyeon was as good as they come, and she was very good at that too.

"Hello, Daddy~ come on in."

Before you even have the chance to fully open the door, Miyeon eyes you through its glass elements and pulls you in. The house looks very odd. The pictures left you with a lot of doubt, but now you are sure: this can't possibly be Miyeon's home. Where are you?

"Miyeon, what is this place? It looks like a cliche haunted house?"

The blonde doesn't listen and instead firmly grabs the crotch of your jeans while pressing her cheek onto your chest. She was always close, always clingy, and she loved hearing your heartbeat increase as she did her best to get you hard.

"Ah, fuck. Stop being so needy and answer my question first!"

"Daddy, let me take care of you, let me serve you, let me be your whore. I-I haven't been touched by anyone, Daddy. I keep myself pure just for you like you taught us..."

"Miyeon. Daddy asked you a question. Answer it," you say briskly. You were not in the mood for games. You came here to her for the exact intention not to play games. You only accepted flesh and holes and absolute loyalty.

"We filmed something here and I really liked the place. It's cozy, old and—I couldn't help myself imagining pleasuring you, Daddy."

You grab Miyeon's ass and press her closer into you. She yelps when your growing erection pokes her exposed midriff. No matter how high or hot her heels are, she'll always be shorter than you. Shorter, but the perfect size for a fleshlight.

"Your blond hair looks nice," you say, stroking it softly.

"Thank you, Daddy."

Your digits stop the strokes and start to tightly grab. Miyeon yelps again when you pull her head backwards and bestow her neck with your lips. A couple of heavy sucks by you and feral moans by Miyeon later, and a large hickey clearly marks her as yours again. Not that she wasn't before, but now everyone can see: this bitch is owned by someone. Miyeon's eyes sparkle in happiness at the branding.

"Daddy doesn't want to stand all the time. Show me where I can rest."

"Yes! Of course, Daddy! I've prepared everything to serve you. I-you won't have to call on anyone else tonight.."

You see how your influence still lingers on them. No matter what they achieved, the only thing that mattered was your happiness, your approval. You had hundreds of girls at your beck and call and to make such a bold claim that a single person would be enough for you, Miyeon sure felt confident.

"Hm, we'll see about that."

Miyeon guides you through the tight corridors of the old-looking house. You're unsure if the house really is old or if it is just meant to look that way for the music video. You are not unsure however if Miyeon is wet or not. As you walk, she still presses her ass backwards against your cock and expertly wiggles it to send tiny shots of stimulation up your spine. She really tries to be your guide and your cock tease at the same time. A dedicated slut is always welcome.

"Here it is. Everything for my Daddy!"

Miyeon's room was pretty and cozy, romantic even. It makes you become highly attentive. She wanted emotional attachment from you, something that always had to be earned. No one knows how, so some of them never try, but those that do always have a different way to get to your ‘soft side’.

You take one glance at what she prepared but it’s just nothing to you.

"Get to it, Miyeon. Why would I care about decor?"

"Th-then lay down, Daddy. I'll do my best. Don't wo-worry about a thing."

With the hope of Miyeon finally getting to the point, you lay down on the beautifully prepared bed. It too looked old and its creaking sounds ancient, but the mattress was insanely comfortable. Your high-end, super expensive mattress at home couldn't compare. You back has never felt something this incredible before—except of course for all the amazing tits of some of your favorite whores, but those are out of competition.

Miyeon eagerly pulls down your zippers and continues with your jeans and boxers. Your semi-hard cock springs free and she marvels at it. Miyeon was always one to worship your cock intently, and her hot gaze resting on your manhood made you feel powerful. You knew each second she was allowed to see it, feel it, choke on it made her feel alive. She once was a top class worshiper.

"Oh my God, it's so beautiful. Daddy, I waited so long for this."

With nothing in her way, she crawls in between your legs towards it. Her ass is high up, her face is right beneath it. Miyeon's lips reach for it, but as always, she gazes up at you and awaits your approval. If it's clothed she makes sure to tease it, but now, she is submissive for it.

"Pleasure me, slut. Do what you’re supposed to do."

Miyeon starts with a string of spit dripping from her mouth. She lets it coat your cock before jerking you off with her hand and finally elongating her tongue to swirl around your tip. With her other hand, she massages your balls. This was her favorite thing in the whole world. Your perfect cock.

"The things I would do for my Daddy's cock," Miyeon whispers and kisses up your shaft and then your tip, "I don't need to sing, when I can just choke on it everyday."

You are aroused, but unimpressed. Only when she commits and actually rams you in between her lush lips and down her throat, your eyes widen for a moment. Miyeon begins to gag and choke violently, but every sound she produces forces her to go deeper down on it. You groan when your tip reaches the back of her throat, but to your dismay, Miyeon lets herself breathe by releasing you.

"I don't need to be on stage, when I can just be on my knees all day and drool all over you."

You say nothing to her as you begin to reach for your phone. You were not impressed. She should have kept going, choking and gagging as your cock slammed the back of her throat, but instead of doing that, she spent more time telling you of the things she would do instead of just doing them. When did she get so chatty? Too comfortable. You realized your own error, you had been too lenient allowing her to speak, allowing her to call you freely and ask for your time. It was a privilege she didn't deserve to keep.

When she starts to deepthroat herself again, you strike. Her blonde locks are beautiful handles to pin her down on. This time, her gags are not a mere tease, they stimulate you. Drool isn't a mere word she dropped, drool is now really dropping, running out of her stuffed mouth and all over your balls. You intend to make her understand that this dedication to suffocation is the only way you'll be pleased with her. No words of commitment; actual commitment.

You pull up and slam her head down again. The time she had to breathe was miniscule. Tears stream down her face just like the drool she mentioned before. Miyeon tries to look through them and up to you, but she finds something way more vicious when you say demonically:

"If you don't make me cum in the next two minutes, I'll call your replacement."

This makes Miyeon jump. She frees herself from your hold, not because she could, but because you let her. She pulls down her pink and white skirt immediately and reveals juice covered lace panties in black. She also opens up her high heels to free her delicious looking feet from this stylish, yet useless prison.

Miyeon becomes bold, pulling up your hoodie and sitting down on your abs. You'd question her method and put her in her place, but when you feel her soft feet with white polish around your cock, you let it slide. After all, she doesn't say unnecessary words to get your attention anymore; instead she grinds on your abs and jerks your cock with her smooth soles.

"Make me cum with those feet whore. They are your saving grace right now. If you don't give me the greatest fucking footjob right now, you won't have the privilege to call me again. Maybe I'll call Yuqi, or..."

What made you a god to these whores was how you remembered every detail about them, what their desires were, what their vulnerabilities were. Miyeon was a hair away from debuting with Blackpink. It was always an insecurity of hers.

"I'll call Rosie or Jisoo. They give footjobs worthy of Daddy."

Miyeon strokes faster, with more ingenuity. She rolls her soles softly up and down your dick, with no certain intervals. The skill and texture of her feet is all she has left to redeem herself now and you intend on humbling even this remarkable ability of hers by reaching for your phone and not even looking at her or her work as she tries her best.

You scroll through your enormous contact list and check the clock in the meantime. One more minute. One minute and after that, Miyeon's self-worth will be ruined. All those fans out there couldn't cheer her up, no matter how hard they tried. Her reputation is decided by one person alone: you. If she could find a way to be put into place while still making you cum, it would be her last chance.

"Fuck! Ah!"

Miyeon screeches in pain. A noisy spank, then another and another, and Miyeon repeatedly cries out. Her body shudders after each spank and she caught your attention. You look down at her body from behind. Her footjob hasn't changed, it's still good, but not enough. It has also not made her worthy of your seed. What has changed however, is what happens in between her thighs. Miyeon has begun to slap her wet, covered labia over and over again. She doesn't hold back either, striking with all her power and crying real tears.

"Whore! The visual Miyeon, an absolute painslut. Spread your legs more!"

You begin to strike as well. Your first hit is as strong as her last, though it's only the beginning. You follow it up with a dozen more strikes, rapidly released, and Miyeon convulses in pain and pleasure. She leans further back into you and makes her feet squeeze your cock tightly.

"I'm so-sorry, Daddy! I-this bitch has f-failed. I need-d to be punished."

"Do you even fucking deserve a punishment? Why should I waste more energy? I came here to relax, to be served, to be pleasured. I thought I trained you better than this. It's why you're as free as you are, but maybe that was a mistake. I should have kept you longer to train you more. What a disappointment."

"You—ah—you're right, D-Daddy! I-I have failed, I have slipped, please b-bring me back!"

With a roaring, demonic sigh you pull aside the fabric separating Miyeon's pussy from your fingers. Her eyes widen as you don't hesitate to violently flick her clit. The line between pain and pleasure blurs for Miyeon as your hand almost blurs from the speed you go at her bundle of nerves. Miyeon's feet tense up unwillingly, yet they still try to squeeze out your load in the nick of time, to no avail.

"I thought you were all ready to go off on your own, to be at Daddy's beck and call but you aren't better than the new sluts I'm training now! I am so disappointed in you Miyeon. Is this what you really wanted? To fucking fail so you'd be back in Daddy's chambers? I hate weakness and incompetency."

Your anger makes you go even harder, to the point where Miyeon is speechless. Speechless because all her sensitive nerves above her pussy are in your grasp. She is unable to escape this grasp. It was her choice to be loyal to you, and for the couple of years she was, she never failed this badly. Tears not only streak down her gorgeous, flushed cheeks, they burst out of her eyes like fountains of despair. Her arms are mostly numb, only twitching from time to time under your violence. Her tongue is also numb, but through her cries, wails and moans, you still pick up her fragmented sentence:

"Please—Daddy, d-don't—fuck,ah—touch me. I d-don't deserve you! I do–I'm cumming!"

Your eyes were livid.

"You fucking bitch, you don’t know shit! You have no clue how to be useful at all, do you? I don't care if your group makes all the successful albums in the world or if you go on tours. No matter what you fucking accomplish, you're just another whore for Daddy. You have no say in any matter. You don't fucking decide if I touch you or not, how fucking dare you!"

Miyeon's mouth produces nothing but gasps and screams as her orgasm controls every inch of her body. She gushes copious amounts of warm girl juice onto your abs and crotch and it drips onto the sheets. A final slap on her cunt, then even her loudest noises subside and only whimpers and snot remains. The beautiful Miyeon looks like an absolute mess. Most of her make-up is already off of her face.

You remove her limb legs from your spent cock. It had been squeezed too tightly in the gap of her feet. She was supposed to service it, not play with it like a dildo. Her joy is a non-factore, especially in the matter of how you use her. You grab Miyeon's calves and fold her in half, a sort of full nelson position.

"Hold your legs steady like this, bitch!" you order coldly, "Stay like this and look at me."

You climb out from underneath her and watch her squirm when a phone camera hovers before her. A couple of flashes later and Miyeon truly understands how much power you have. Depending on who sees these pictures, her career might be fucked, her reputation ruined, her dignity annihilated. She begins to cry again, but you quickly hush her.

"Shut the fuck up. I'm gonna send them to a better bitch, a loyal whore, who will use her holes to service me properly. You think these photos could end you? No. I can already do it without these. Do you forget who I am? Who tamed and made so many like you? Saddest thing is, I didn't even get to fucking cum. What a waste of my time this was. Once you get your shit together, I expect to see you back in my chambers for re-education. Are we clear?"

(TBC...)

#kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #miyeon smut #cho miyeon smut #gidle smut #miyeon gidle smut #male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut

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bellaturner · 1 year

Note

Could your write a fic where Alex and the reader have been best friends for years and she’s in love with him but she’s to afraid to tell him because he’s constantly getting new girlfriends and she feels like he doesn’t even look at her the same way anymore every time she tries to tell him he somehow is busy or something

Your writing is so good and I’m a whore for angst love you

A Certain Romance

Heeey, Anon! I truly loved working on this prompt! (I accidentally lost all track of time, spent 2 hours writing it, and got so late for class I gave up on going)

Anyways, I really hope you enjoy it 💕

Contains smut and angst

Summary: YN decides to confess her feeling for Al after getting jealous of his (many) girlfriends, risking their friendship.

Warnings: alcohol, dom Alex, praising, orgasm denial (not really), shouting, name calling, oral sex, dude it's just pure angst and smut...

2,7k words (it got bigger then what i intended, sorry)

Masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As Alex's words reverberated through the room, your heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from your chest. His accusations hit you like a ton of bricks, each one piercing your skin like a needle. You had harbored feelings for him for so long, but you had been too afraid to confess them and risk losing the friendship that had been built over the years. And now, as he screamed at you, you could feel the walls closing in.

His anger was palpable, radiating from him like heat from a furnace. You tried to take a step back, to distance yourself from the painful words, but his presence was overwhelming, suffocating. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you struggled to find the words to defend yourself, to explain how you truly felt.

"You've been friendzoning me for years, YN!" Alex's voice boomed through the room, his hands raking through his hair in frustration. "I can't fucking believe you!" The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating, and you felt the weight of it bearing down on your shoulders.

You felt the bile rise in your throat as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. "Oh shut up, Alex," you spat, your voice trembling with emotion. "How could I be friendzoning you when I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember, you dumb ass!"

But his response was like a slap in the face, a cruel twist of the knife. "Oh wow, what a great joke" the sarcasm in his voice dripped like venom, and you turned away, hoping to hide the tears that streamed down your face. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words had affected you, but the sobs that wracked your body betrayed you.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD, YN, ARE YOU CRYING?" Alex's voice rose to a deafening pitch, the anger and frustration almost palpable. You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself, but the tears continued to stream down your face, blurring your vision.

"You're such a clown!" he continued, his voice dripping with contempt. "You decide to unload this shit on me now? Just when I got a new girlfriend and am leaving for a stupid tour tomorrow?" His words cut you, and you felt your friendship hanging by a thread.

But you couldn't keep the anger inside any longer. "Well, I'm fucking sorry that you're such a man-whore, showing up with a new girlfriend every couple of weeks!" The words felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, but the relief was short-lived. You knew that there was no going back from this.

"You've been a fucking mess since Alexa!" you added, your voice trembling with emotion. The words hit both of you deeper than you expected, and the tension in the room only continued to thicken. You could feel the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging over you like a dark cloud, and you wondered if there was any way to salvage what was left of your friendship.

But Alex was not having it. "You have no fucking right to say anything about her! Nor about my love life, YN," he growled, his voice dripping with anger and menace. He stepped closer, and your heart raced with fear.

"Do. You. Understand. YN?" he hissed, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed and vulnerable.

You tried to apologize, to explain that you didn't mean what you said, but he cut you off. "Yeah, yeah. Save it for someone else. I know you hate Alexa and what she did to me." There was something in his eyes, a flicker. "What interests me, though, is your hate for the others"

As Alex loomed over you, his body language radiated aggression, and his words weighed heavily on you. You struggled to gather your thoughts as he inched closer, emitting a suffocating heat.

Despite your lack of reaction, Alex persisted in attacking your dislike of the others. His intense gaze weakened your knees, and you fought to maintain composure.

"I don't hate anyone, Al," you stuttered, attempting to calm him down. "I simply don't believe they're good for you."

In response, Alex sneered and scoffed, mocking your concern. "And you think you know what's best for me? Spare me the lies, YN. You don't know me."

His words cut deep, inciting a surge of hurt and anger within you. However, before you could retaliate, Alex stormed away, consumed by fury.

"What the hell do you mean? I've know you since we were kids, Alex!" you raised your voice, your anger grewing stronger by his unthought words. "And where the fuck are you going? We are not done here!" you followed him, just to end up on his private study, where he was pouring himself a glass of whisky. Not a shot, a whole glass.

"Yes we are, YN" he sounded angry and defeated.

"Like fuck we are, Turner. Talk to me, you can't just flip out like that and leave me here wondering if you'll ever talk to me again. I value our friendship too much" you vomited all at once.

There he was again, the angry, scary Alex "Why cant you just shut up!?" he shouted from the window. "You started this situation, you put me in this position, and now you want me to solve it?" he fired at you.

He was right, you had, indeed, ruined your friendship. As you sat down behind his desk, you accepted your defeat. But he wasn't going to let you go that easily. He downed the whisky glass all the once.

"Unbelievable. I can't believe you kept this from me for so long," he muttered, his voice rough and hoarse as he poured himself another shot of whiskey, his hands shaking with anger and frustration.

You could feel the tension in the air, and your heart raced with anticipation and fear. Alex was unpredictable when he was angry, and you didn't want him to hurt your feelings anymore than he already had.

"I'm sorry, Alex," you said softly, hoping to diffuse the situation. "I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid of losing our friendship."

"You think telling me after all these years won't ruin our friendship?" he snapped, his eyes burning with rage. "You had your chance, YN. You had your chance and you blew it."

"I know I messed up," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "But we can still salvage our friendship. We just need to talk it out."

"Talk it out?" he repeated, his voice rising with every word. "You think we can just talk it out after this? After you kept this from me for so long? You're delusional, YN."

As he spoke, you could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes again. You never meant to hurt him, but it seemed like everything you did just made things worse.

"You're right, Alex," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I messed up. I should have told you earlier. I just hope you can forgive me."

He didn't respond, just poured himself a third shot and downed it in one gulp. The silence was deafening, and you could feel the weight of his anger and disappointment bearing down on you.

Just when you thought he was going to explode again, he surprised you by grabbing your waist and pulling you towards him, making you get up. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, his kiss rough and demanding.

As you pushed him away, the heat of the moment dissipated and confusion took over. Your mind raced as you struggled to make sense of what just happened. "What the hell, Alex? You can't just kiss me like that after everything you just said!" you exclaimed, your voice shaking.

"Why not?" he shot back, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and desire. "You wanted this too, YN. Admit it."

Your frustration grew as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "That's not the point!" you finally managed to say, your mind still clouded with confusion. "You can't just switch between being angry and then trying to kiss me. It's not fair."

But before you could say anything more, he whispered, "Watch me," and pulled you in for another kiss. You knew you shouldn't, but his lips on yours were irresistible. You felt your hands instinctively find their way to the back of his head, pulling on his hair as you deepened the kiss, making him pull away.

"If you think you have any type of upper hand in this situation, you are deeply mistaken, love," he said, holding your wrists above your head as he stared deeply into your eyes. And then, he went in for another kiss, more demanding and passionate than before, as if he wanted to consume every inch of you.

His lips were insistent and demanding, and you couldn't help but melt into his embrace. The anger and frustration you felt just moments ago were replaced by a burning desire that seemed to consume your every thought.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you up against the wall, his hands roaming all over your body. You moaned into his mouth, unable to resist his touch.

"You're mine now," he said, his voice low and possessive. "And you're going to do exactly what I say." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, both scared and excited at the same time. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for him.

"Use your fucking words, YN. You were full of them just now" he said, grabbing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him.

You could feel his intense gaze on you, his eyes locking onto yours as he waited for your response. "Yes, Al," you breathed out, your voice shaky with desire. "I'm yours. Tell me what to do."

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth, pleased with your submission. "Good girl," he murmured, his fingers trailing down your neck and over your collarbone. "First, I want you to strip for me. Slowly. I want to see every inch of your body."

Your heart raced at his command, but you didn't hesitate. You reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Alex's eyes widened with appreciation at the sight of your bare chest, and you could feel his gaze burning into you. You continued to undress, shedding your pants and bra, leaving yourself only in panties.

"Turn around," he ordered, and you obeyed, presenting your back to him. He trailed his fingers down your spine, causing you to shiver with anticipation. "Now, on your knees."

You complied, sinking to the ground as he stood over you. "Good. Now, show me how much you want me." His words echoed in your mind as you knelt before him, feeling completely exposed and vulnerable.

You knew what he wanted, and a part of you was hesitant, but the desire in your body overruled any sense of hesitation. With shaky hands, you reached up to unbuckle his belt, slowly pulling it off and dropping it to the floor.

You could see the bulge in his pants growing larger, and you knew that you were the reason for it. You reached for his zipper, sliding it down and freeing him from his underwear. His arousal was undeniable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of power knowing that you were the one causing it.

With a flick of his wrist, Alex removed his shirt, revealing his toned chest and arms. He placed a hand on the back of your head, guiding you closer to him.

"Go ahead, YN," his voice low and seductive. "You wanted this, now you got it, so behave like the good little slut that you are. Don't be a brat" he said as he held your hair in a ponytail, forcing your head against his center.

You didn't hesitate, wrapping your lips around him and taking him in as deep as you could. The taste of his saltiness filled your senses, and you didn't flinch when he tightened his grip on your head. The sensation of him inside you was all-consuming, and you moaned with pleasure, sending vibrations through his body.

"Good girl," he praised, his fingers entwining in your hair. "That's it, baby, keep going."

As his member throbbed in your mouth, sending shivers down your spine, he abruptly pulled your head back, eliciting a satisfying "pop" that echoed through the room. With a devilish grin, he looked down at you and uttered, "I want it all, sweetheart. As much as I crave the idea of coating your lips and watching you gulp it down, I also want to fuck you like it's my last fucking day on earth."

The raw intensity of his words sent a surge of desire coursing through your body, making you ache for more. Without hesitation, you stood up. His hand trailed down your back, over your ass, and then swiftly removed your panties.

"Bend over the desk and spread your legs," he demanded, and you quickly obeyed, positioning yourself as he instructed. He ran his hands over your folds, feeling the wetness that had already started to pool there. "God, you're already so wet, baby," he murmured before plunging two fingers inside you. You moaned loudly as your walls tightened around him, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure.

His hot breath caressed your neck as his fingers worked you, sending shivers down your spine. "You're such a whore, aren't you? Getting turned on by me using you like this," he growled, his fingers curling inside you, pushing you closer to the edge.

As he kept working his fingers inside you, you felt the heat building up, and you knew you were on the brink of orgasm. Your moans became louder and more frequent, his name escaping your lips.

"Don't you dare come yet, YN," he growled into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Please, Alex," you pleaded, unable to resist the overwhelming need for him. "I need you inside me."

"Be a doll and beg for it, then" he commanded, his fingers moving with a mesmerizing rhythm, driving you closer to the edge.

"Please, Alex," you begged, feeling your need for him growing more urgent with each passing moment. "I need you inside me. I need to feel you filling me up."

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he said, withdrawing his fingers and positioning himself at your entrance. With a sharp slap on your ass, he quickly filled you up in one swift motion.

You gasped at the suddenness of it, feeling him stretch you to your limits. He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back onto him with each thrust. You moaned with pleasure as he pounded into you, hitting all the right spots.

"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his pace quickening. "I can't fucking believe we haven't done this before"

You were lost in the sensations, the pleasure radiating through every nerve in your body. You pushed back against him, meeting his every thrust with eagerness and need.

He leaned over you, his hand reaching around to rub your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

"Come for me, baby," he growled in your ear. "Come all over me cock." You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pleasure building and building until it finally crashed over you in waves. You cried out his name as you came, your body convulsing around him.

He thrust a few more times before releasing himself inside you with a groan, and collapsing onto your back. Leaving both of you panting and covered in sweat.

As you caught your breath, he pulled out of you and helped you stand up, his hands still roaming over your body.

"You're so fucking amazing," he whispered, pressing kisses to your neck. You leaned back into him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

This was what you craved, the feeling of being completely dominated by him. And in that moment, you knew that you were his, completely and utterly.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, he turned you around to face him, cupping your face with his hands.

"I meant what I said earlier, YN," he said, his voice serious. "I want you to be mine. I want to take care of you and make you feel good every day."

You looked up at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I want that too, Alex," you said, smiling up at him.

He leaned in and kissed you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. As he pulled away, he looked at you with a soft expression.

"Good," he said. "Because I'm not letting you go now."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Let me know how big you guys like these things to be, please.

Hope you liked this one hehehe 💕

#request #anon request #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner one shot #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #one shot #arctic monkeys #alex turner x you #fem reader #angst #alex turner angst

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ianthoni · 8 months

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So today @juztscrollingthrough send me this video from 2009. 2009, the year Anthony said their friendship basically ended.

First part of the video where they ask "if their friendship ever been torn apart by a woman yet?" And Anthony immediately answer with "yeah his girlfriend right now" he laughs but it's obvious he thinks of it beforehand hence why he was so quick to answer to that. But Ian laughs at him. He either thinks Anthony is joking or he's not comfortable with Anthony talking about his girlfriend. And then when they ask if they have girlfriends Ian's face immediately falls as him and Anthony says yes. (Put a more closer look at the end) Now that's definitely not a "shy" look as the woman said in my eyes. It's clear that Ian is sad about it. But why? Is he sad that he had a girlfriend? Is he sad that they're talking about her in the show? Is he sad that Anthony has a girlfriend? That they can't spend enough time together now? And why didn't Anthony liked Ian's gf? As far as I know m****** and Ian is still in good terms. What was happening in Anthony's mind that made him uncomfortable? I don't wanna believe that™ woman but her story about this part looks like it's true. Anthony doesn't like Ian's gf and Ian doesn't like Anthony's. I get Ian not liking k**** but why Anthony doesn't like m******? Yeah i know that's none of ours business but it's too much of a subject now I can't stop but wonder about it. Cause we all now even if Ian threatened bad in the relationship he wouldn't tell anything. He himself said he wouldn't even understand if he put in emotional turmoil. Did something happen to make Anthony not happy? Also again why the fuck Ian is sad about them having girlfriends? He immediately puts it to Anthony by making a joke about the shy part with "oh Anthony is blushing now" but he wasn't shy it is so obvious Ian was sad. Ok on to the next part.

This part is more sadder. SAD AS FUCK. Cause here we see Anthony very openly and a little jokey but in all seriousness saying Ian that he doesn't enjoy doing editing the full time. He says "he lost the gladiator fight (this is a reference as they did fight about parts and Ian got the writing the script and him "stuck" with editing)" When the reporter confront Ian with "he wanted to do it too you're too controlling Ian" Ian looks so confused. Cause this is the first time he's hearing this and he's shocked and doesn't realize if that's a bit or serious he's looking between Anthony and the reporter awkwardly laughing. And Anthony hits him with "this is spousal abuse" Ian is confused licking his lips can't answer the reporter can't answer to Anthony he doesn't know what to say. Again we know Ian is not very open about his feelings and can't show them. That's a fact already. But in this moment we can see him can't hide his feelings and like showing his confusion. I think Ian's poker face improved after defy where he tried to act like everything is ok around the Smosh cast. In here it's still 2009, he's a young boy. And then Anthony says "I never told you but I'm very hurt by this." Referring the editing and the script writing. We know it's not a joke cause he repeats himself for Ian to hear it. Ian still can't answer but there's a little "awww" coming. He probably wants this to stop. Doesn't wanna talk about it anymore. His face is obvious but his mouth still can't make up words about how he's feeling. We see him relax a little when others laugh so he thinks it's not that serious it's not something big of a deal that makes Anthony leave. He's relaxed now and jokes about it. The others remind them that COMMUNICATION IS THE KEY. TALK TO EACH OTHER. Anthony then makes another comment "you never talk with me." He's serious about this too. We can see it because when Ian came to his senses and made that a joke too and give a funny accent apologize we can see Anthony is annoyed. This is him trying and Ian once again pushing his feelings aside and turning it into jokes. Which I think Anthony sees that jokes as "Ian didn't care about me, it was always a joke to him, he didn't care about me enough" when it's just Ian trying to make it a joke so he doesn't have to be open and sincere and talk about his feelings. (This boy needs therapy((STILL)) now that he "apologized" he immediately drops his face and sulk cause he's aware it's bad too, he knows it's cringe and he knows it annoys Anthony.

Meanwhile others are STILL trying to advise them to talk to each other. They ignore that as they talk between each other "we should go to Dr Phil" "or Tyra(not sure he literally talks inside his mouth)" others tells them to find each others love languages Anthony shakes his head as a no? Ian laughs? And again they end it with SPEAK TO EACH OTHER. Which we later saw that they actually didn't do that.

Someone in the server said something like "i can't believe how they managed to stretch that till 2017" tbh i really don't know too. Cause this conversation happened literally 14 years later too. Anthony still remembers it all. My only guess is the love and connection they had for each other. Ian didn't wanna talk about it, he didn't wanna do it because he didn't want Anthony to leave, I bet he had his own problems too but he put everything aside and put on a happy mask, acting like nothing bad is happening when everything bad is happening. He tried to act like everything is fine so Anthony won't leave. And Anthony didn't say anything or maybe tried a little but got ignored by Ian. So he didn't talk about it anymore because he didn't want to annoy Ian, and then later he thought Ian didn't care anymore, he was a bad person. I don't wanna assume their friendship it's not my place. But it's so obvious that communication was the key. And from the 2009 people were telling them to talk to each other. That they didn't listen. Ofc now that they came together they talk more about their feelings and they're more open to each other. At the time they were still young and still insecure probably. But every time i saw them coming together after 6 years. It made me think that they're actually soulmates. The universe wanted them together that's why Ian transferred to that school, that's why they met in 6th grade, that's why they became best friends. The universe tears them apart because they couldn't realize the magic of their relationship. But even after 6 years they're coming together and there's STILL a sparkle that's destiny. Their path might be separated in the road but they're back together and now they're closer than ever. I'm so glad.

"If it’s real love, then let it breathe. Let them be free as a person, and if they come back to you, then that’s how you know it’s always been real. This is what you call “freedom love” in order to let them go and be free—it’s coming from love and never hate or pity. Lead with love in these conversations, and if it’s meant to be, it’ll come back to you. This is not a goodbye forever, just a see you next time."

#smosh #ian hecox #anthony padilla #ianthony #☀️🔍#💛🖤#this is by no means me going thats exactly what happened its the truth or anything this is just me analysing shit i saw #its 3.50am #im on my feelings rn

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ladyannemarie5 · 5 months

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Jaskier: the emotional support bard for EVERYONE

Well, remember my "Things we learned/confirmed about our bard in Vol. 2" post? You can see it here.

I haven't stopped thinking about point #16 (He's the emotional support bard for EVERYONE (Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri and even Dara) but who the hell is my baby's emotional support?) and after many sleepless nights I finally got around to it to write something about it.

So here you have 2k words of hurt/angst for my beautiful bard. Because he needs to vent to someone and I love a Geralt writhing in pain and guilt :D

-------------

Geralt is truly grateful to have Jaskier in his life. Having him is the true blessing.

The bard is always by his side, with a soft and understanding smile on his face, with the right words that will give shelter to their hearts and a joke to lighten the mood.

He knows just the right combination of words to make Yennefer smile sincerely. He knows what song to sing for Ciri after her nightmares. He knows what to say to elves who have lost their homes and families to always keep them hopeful.

And of course, Jaskier is always sincere about his emotions, the things he likes, the things he dislikes.

Jaskier is colorful, loud, colorful and true with his feelings.

That's why Geralt is at a loss for what to do when he hears Radovid comforting his bard.

Geralt was about to tell them both to gather by the fire to continue the party after saying goodnight to Ciri. The party in the forest was in full swing when both lovebirds decided to step away from the spotlight and spend some time alone.

"How are you, lark?" asks Radovid.

"I'm perfect, my prince. All things are finally flowing properly" replies the bard cheerfully.

There is silence for a moment, Geralt sneaking up on the pair, not wanting to abruptly interrupt their moment.

"I could see how your hands shook as we approached the fire, I also noticed that you didn't play your usual notes on your lute, and of course, you tried to sing the dirtiest songs in your repertoire only to have your friends tell you to stop singing in front of the girl" the prince murmurs softly and Geralt stops his steps altogether.

"Well, I wouldn't want a witcher and his sorceress to cut little Jaskier for singing obscenities in front of his daughter. You should thank me for stopping, I know how much you enjoy little Jaskier."

A silence follows, Geralt thinks the matter is settled, that Jaskier is fine.

"And now you're evading the issue" replies the prince in a tone Geralt can't detect. "You said you weren't afraid of the fire anymore but you sat in the farthest place from the campfire, you didn't have your twitch with the strings and I know you only do that when you don't want to want to keep playing the lute and I also know you only sing your dirtiest songs when you want to make people uncomfortable and make them stop asking you for songs.

I ask you again, how are you?"

Jaskier doesn't respond. Geralt holds his breath and frowns in the darkness.

Jaskier isn't acting weird, it's just Jaskier being Jaskier, Geralt thinks. His bard is always happy, in fact he is surprised that he always smells like honeysuckle and lavender all the time because humans always have a wide variety of smells about them. Sadness, anger, joy, satisfaction, and more and more, but Jaskier always smells of happiness, and several (many) times of lust. Radovid believes that just by knowing Jaskier for a few years he is already able to read him backwards and forwards. Like him

Jaskier doesn't say anything for several minutes and for a second, it seems like the conversation has stopped there, maybe he'll start cracking a joke about how being the most famous bard on the continent is taking its toll on him or maybe he'll comment that Radovid isn't giving him any enough attention.

If there's one thing everyone who knows Jaskier personally knows, it's that the bard is...

"I'm tired "

And Geralt's heart stops. Because he has never heard the bard speak in that tone. Not even when they had walked miles and miles for hours, not when they had spent days and days sleeping outside instead of an inn, not even when Geralt apologized after the mountain. It's not the kind of physical exhaustion that Jaskier always brags about, it's the exhaustion that comes from his soul.

A soft sound is heard and the witcher must not have special mutations to know that the prince has gotten closer to the poet “Dear heart, it is me. "You know you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not with me."

More silence. More doubts.

And then, like a dam that has broken, Geralt smells for the first time the bitter aroma of rotting dandelions: Jaskier's sadness.

"I feel so lonely." Jaskier sighs, an exhausted, desperate sigh.

And then the sobs come.

Geralt can imagine the prince holding Jaskier in his arms because the poet's voice sounds muffled and sobbing.

Jaskier talks about how he has always felt sad and alone since he was a child. How sometimes he is not able to remember his childhood because his mind has blocked everything bad to protect him. He talks about how music saved his life, how sometimes it's not enough and he just forces himself to make it enough.

Geralt thinks about the times Jaskier didn't sleep or eat because he stayed to write in his notebook, how he took his lute and held it to his chest saying that the muses were blessing him with inspiration. He now wonders how much was real and how much was the bard breaking.

The bard tells the prince how scared he was when he first toured the continent, fearing that he would have to crawl back to his parents to survive. The happiness of being able to find Geralt and follow him. The sadness of being rejected over and over again by the only person who was his lighthouse at that moment. The panic attacks he suffered when he woke up and Geralt was already gone. The tremors in his legs when he ran to the next town to catch up with the witcher and the fake smiles he had shown when pretending that their reunion was accidental.

Geralt remembers a time, in Temeria, when he found Jaskier drinking beer in a tavern and how his leg kept moving, up and down over and over again. How Jaskier told him it was the emotion that the red-haired waitress caused him. He tries to remember how many miles Jaskier had to walk by himself.

Jaskier tells him how devastated he was when Geralt left him. Because he knows that 20 years are nothing for a witcher but they were half of his human life. He tells him that he returned to Geralt because he missed him and is his best friend, the person he has the most faith in, but he doesn't think he can trust him again, not like before. Because he had been his only friend, his only constant after leaving and being disowned by his own family, because he had given him his youth, voice and friendship for decades and yet Geralt had left him. And his heart is so broken that he can't put another patch on it or will be useless forever.

He tells him how ashamed he is of his human condition. Because he's surrounded by gods who can set the world on fire literally and figuratively, he clings so hard to being someone magnificent like them, but sometimes he's so exhausting that the very breath escapes him. He tells that every time they make a joke about being weak, worthless or just being left behind he gets it because they remind him of his family, but now it has become a dull ache that builds up in his heart and he knows it's wrong, but now has gotten used to it.

Geralt doesn't even have a specific memory, but he knows that he has a lot to think about.

The poet talks about nightmares about being burned, about being left behind for being a mere human. Because he knows that he is only a second in the infinite life of the people he loves, that he is nothing more than a thorn in the hearts of the people he considers his family. Because they will live long, wonderful lives and the memory of him will one day be erased from their minds, and sometimes it's okay, but other times it feels like it burns his soul to know that he means nothing to anyone.

He tells Radovid that he is so afraid that he will leave him too. Because he knows that he can be a lot and feel so much that he is used to being left aside, but he doesn't believe he can bear Radovid's rejection and he doesn't believe can bear to say goodbye to the prince he has fallen in love with like never before. He tells him how much loves him, how fervent his love is, but Radovid is a prince, the representation of the gods on earth, the man who has armies and subjects and men and women at his disposal; and he’s a simple bard, with scars from torture and a lute on his back. Jaskier opens up and talks out loud about how scared he was when he met him, because he always jokes about being heartbroken, like every good poet, but he never talks about the fear of not being enough again.

He talks about his resentment and envy of others. He was always the bard of comfort for everyone, always the shoulder to cry on and complain about, always the perfect man to put down and feel good about yourself. Jaskier, the man who always smiles. Jaskier, the man of a thousand words. Always the bard Dandelion.

He says that has no right to cry and complain about his pain, because there are elves out there who have lost their homes, their family, and their lives. Because just a few steps from him, there is a girl who lost her parents, her grandparents and her entire home in the flames. There is a sorceress who was sold by her father, who was undone and remade countless times. Because he has traveled with the man with the purest and noblest heart on the continent, that he has suffered for decades without complaint. Because there is a prince trapped in a viper's nest next to him. He has no right to cry because he is exhausted.

But sometimes it's so hard to stay smiling. Sometimes the curtain must be lowered, sometimes his lips also get tired of saying words of encouragement without any in return, his arms are also tired of holding and not being held, his heart sometimes gets tired of loving without being loved.

Sometimes he just wants to sleep and not wake up again.

Jaskier talks and talks and talks. But for the first time, he's not about the best color for his doublet, but instead he mutters about the insecurities he hides behind those colors. For the first time, Geralt doesn't tune out Jaskier's inane, meaningless chatter and actually listens, hears the tremor in his voice, smells the pain in the air, feels every sob rumbling in his chest. And he wonders how he never saw it, how he always took his friend for granted.

It seems that Jaskier's words are exhausted, because all that remains is a deafening silence and the aroma of salt from tears not shed for years.

“You are not alone, lark,” the prince murmurs, soft and determined. “You have me, Geralt, Ciri and Yennefer. We are your family. We are yours. And I'm sorry you feel that way, because it was never our intention to burden you with our burdens. Because we love you. You are the light of our lives, and the only reason we all have a family. Jaskier, you are my lark, my heart and my soul. I love you more than anything, Jaskier. You can always come to me to listen to you, to cry or simply to be by your side, the way you want me, all the time you want me.”

Jaskier sobs again and Geralt can imagine Radovid holding him tighter, closer, because it's something the witcher wants to do.

Geralt walks away silently with only the thoughts of him.

He returns to the bonfire that miraculously continues to burn, with no Yennefer and Ciri in sight.

Geralt sits in his place. He thinks about everything he has learned from the bard in 1 hour and has been missing for 24 years. He wonders how much of what he sees in Jaskier is him and not his mask. He questions why he never asked Jaskier how he is.

Then he hears footsteps coming out of the forest. He feels Yenn sit silently to the right of him and then Ciri to the left of him. Everyone heard, everyone felt their bard break.

No one says anything, as if the bard had taken away their words. He probably did it. So the three of them sit together until they decide to go to sleep, always in silence.

The next morning, the 3 find a note from Radovid saying that he and Jaskier will take some time together. That they will soon find them.

The witcher, the sorceress and the princess shed tears together and then wait anxiously for their bard. Their lark.

#jaskier #my baby deserves the world #my beloved bard #radskier #geraskier #fanfiction #ficlet #the witcher #geralt of rivia #emotional support bard #angst bard #ao3fic #fanfic

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pennywise-fucker · 11 months

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Not The End

Soldier Boy x Reader

Request: could i get prompt 2. “Are you kidding me right now?!” with SB or HL?

Warning: Swearing

A/N: I prefer writing stuff like this for Solider Boy so I hope it's alright!

Y/N took a breath, still trying to rehearse the words to tell Soldier Boy. She knew it wouldn't be long until he got home, and she was just done. She couldn't even remember why she had felt to attracted to him in the first place. He was nothing but egotistical and violent and constantly smelled of booze, cigarettes and weed. She sat on the couch and put her face in her hands, calming herself the best that she could.

No sooner than she sat down, Soldier Boy threw open the door. "Honey, I'm home!", he bellowed as he kicked his shoes off and left them on the floor. After a moment, he walked towards the living room and leaned against the doorframe, causing Y/N to look up. "Now, a man likes his lady ready and welcoming him when he gets home", he jokingly chastised, though Y/N knew he wasn't entirely joking. But watching him there, leaned against the frame with a smirk on his face and those beautiful eyes, sent shivers through her. That's what had caught her, but she needed to snap out of it. She shook her head, as if to clear it like an etch-a-sketch, and stood up.

"You're right", she agreed, "A man does. But I can't. I can't do any of this anymore", she practically spat out. The words just rolled out, she couldn't stop herself. Soldier Boy raised his eyebrow, "Excuse me?", he asked, taking a step closer to her. He was clearly giving her a chance to rethink what she had said, but she wasn't going to do it. This was the furthest she'd come to actually ending it and she needed to follow through. "I can't do this. You come home bloody, angry, spouting about all the horrible things you've done, I just can't do it anymore. This thing, between us, it needs to end", she sputtered, her heart racing like crazy now. "Are you kidding me right now?!", he yelled, "I'm a hero. I do the things men are supposed to do. I've protected you and everyone else in the goddamn country!", he huffed, now directly in front of Y/N, "Who's been putting this bullshit in your head, huh? Is it some guy? Some tree hugging hippie?", he accused, his eyes intense on her. "No!", she defended, "It's just-", "It's just that you expected this to be easy?", he interrupted, "You're with a hero, sweetheart, nothing about this was gonna be easy", he paused, running his hand through his hair, then looking back at Y/N, "Give me a name, and I'll fix all of this", he urged, and she knew there wasn't a way out of this. He was angry, and if she pushed even slightly the wrong way, he was going to lose his mind.

Y/N took a breath and sighed, "No, no, you're right. It's just been..a lot. I've never been with a hero before and it's...lonely..", she trailed off, trying to choose her words carefully. He squinted at her, as if to see if she was lying, then tilted his head as if in agreement, "You'll get used to it", he said with a smirk, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her against him. Y/N nodded and gave Soldier Boy the sweetest smile she could, "I guess I will", she nodded, and he smiled as if he'd won - because he had.

"Good, now get that cute little ass in the kitchen, I worked up a hell of an appetite", he laughed as he spun her around and spanked her ass. She continued towards the kitchen and took one look back, almost sickened by the smirk on his face.

He'd won. Again.

*Please consider tipping $1 to my Venmo if you enjoy my writing. It's in no way required, just appreciated!*

#my writing #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #reader insert #x reader #imagine #the boys imagine #soldier boy fanfic #solider boy fic #the boys fanfiction #jensen ackles #soldier boy imagine #the boys

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violetmarkings · 1 year

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How Stray Kids would cuddle (based off of tarot readings)

Genre :: Fluff, Reaction, Tarot reading based

Pairing :: skz members x gender neutral reader

Word count :: 1750

Warnings :: This is literally a poetic interpretation of tarot readings, lots of metaphors and comparisons, CUDDLES, kisses, hand holding, sappy and romantic, mentions of having wounds, scars, fears (they get soothed), a bit of possessiveness in lee know's, butter croissants, hyunjin wants you to avoid responsibilities, Felix is a cuddle addict, magic (?)

A/N: You guys really enjoyed my poetical take on heartwarming things skz would do while intimate (18+) , so I thought I'd do something else in that writing style! This is the first time I ever do fluff on this account though lol. And since I also do tarot and we've reached another follower milestone, I thought I'd write this as a gift to you guys to celebrate :D Thank you for the love and follows, guys! <3

Chan, healing cuddles - V of Wands R, IV of swords R, Wheel of fortune, Justice

The sword, it must be glued to your wrist ;; your body turned into a shield, slashed at - you're weary, full of battle scars from your battles. But to Chan, it doesn't matter if you won or not, all matters that you came to home into his arms. His soldier, his brave, strong soldier, you're back. So many nights he's spent calling you home, sending you doves with secret letters, so that he could hold you again and have you rest ;; let him heal you. The battle's been fought, it's time to let it go now - but how can you, when the wounds still sting? He'll make it better, he promises. He'll be the magical, healing salve you need. The scars, they will always be there, yes ;; but he loves every single one of them. Your heart doesn't need to drum that hard anymore. You don't need to be hyper aware of your foes. It's okay, you're safe. The pain, he's absorbed it, it's gone, disappeared. And no matter how many times you go to war, you can always know, your refuge is always waiting with baited breath, for you to return home, so he can hold you and make all the bad go away.

Lee know, tight cuddles - VII of pentacles R, X of swords R

Minho's truly like a feline ;; he likes to play with you, play with your heart and nerves. When you want his affection, he'll joke, no you can't have me, but then pull you right back. But please don't misunderstand, you're not just a play mate to him, and he'd never feel ready to let you go. Why? Because although a feline, he's a domesticated one - he can't go on without you, you're his home, his water, his food, he needs you. He might jokingly push you away, but he never ever would want you to leave. Stay, please stay, he'd even beg. The way he'd hold you, although you'd never know - would be as if he was scared you'd disappear the next second, like sand between his fingers. When he'd hold you, it'd be tight, glued to him, you're his, his, he refuses to let you go. Waking up without you would mean breaking to shambles, so please excuse him. Excuse him for squeezing you to his heart, for wanting to drown in your perfume, for putting your body in love arrest. His love birthed demons, and they whisper to him, if he doesn't entangle himself with you, weave himself to you - one day he'll wake up without a home.

Changbin, royal cuddles - Spirit of pentacles, Lord of pentacles, Nine of pentacles R, Dreamer of Swords

Teach Changbin how to love you, show him who to be, how to be. Nothing is off the table, no, anything for his love. How do you like to be held? Where? When? Your word is law, and he's an abiding citizen ;; he wants to be fair and righteous for you, your figure of justice, your hero. For you, he'll provide, turn himself upside down, there's no limit ;; he'll make sure there is none. He can't only give you one thing, one domain, no, no. Love is complex, love is tangled in a labyrinth of endless ends, and he must explore every path, he must fulfil every sense. A pillow to rest your head, sweet scented sheets for comfort, the warmth of his body he gives to you so you won't feel cold, his fingers are now made to soothe you and his voice is whispering to you, caressing your heart too, how could he ever forget it. You'd think it'd be impossible for him to fetch you hot butter croissants in the morning and serve them to you like your royalty? Well you're wrong. Royalty would envy you, kings and queens stirring in their graves over how well he spoils you.

Hyunjin, escapist cuddles - VIII of Wands R

There was something pressing on your shoulders before Hyunjin's arms enveloped you. The weight of the world, some sort of societal confection, something urgent, causing you distress. But what was it, again? You can't remember. Good, good, you're in the loop now. You're in his infinity loop, in his hold that seems to repeat itself forever ;; but it never bores you, not at all. But what it is this loop? It's his hold on you, his comforting touch, warmth, smell. Society is calling you? Don't go. There's something urgent? No, it can wait. But you can't always run away from responsibility in his arms, right? Wrong, wrong. In his arms, he can protect you. In his arms, he knows you're safe. In his arms, he can make you happy. Like a broken vinyl player, he'll keep scratching the same note, don't go, stay with me instead. Even if to most it's illusionary, an oasis is the better than the unforgiving desert - so stay. Enjoy the magic and lose yourself in the joy.

Han, binding cuddles - Spirit of Pentacles, The lovers R, Five of Wands

Jisung loves you with everything he has - he won't be stingy about absolutely anything. His heart? You have it. His body? Yours to move, to feel, to breathe. There's nothing of his that isn't yours, no moment when he'd want to be apart from you. You're entangled in body in soul, only to grow closer and closer and even more inseparable, like two trees weaving their roots with one another. But as trees, you don't need to speak, now do you? No, you can just communicate through the mere touch of branches, that mess you've woven yourself into. Telepathy, that's it. He'll hold your hand, yes baby I hear you. He'll pull you closer, I'm listening, tell me more. He'll kiss you gently, we'll get through it together, I swear. And as your head lies on his chest, on his heartbeat - you can hear them, his thoughts. They're all calling for you, your name sounds so soft and angelic repeating in his mind, and he proclaims his undying love again and again with the voice of his touch. So if your lover is ever being quiet, close your ears and use your other senses ;; because he's speaking, oh he's so loud - he wants to tell you how impossible it is to ever remove his roots from within the grasp of yours.

Felix, consistent cuddles - Knight of swords, VIII of wands R, Four of wands

Love doesn't need a specific timing, Felix thinks. It comes from a deep place, rooted in the heart, it grows roots and remains there only to grow stronger and taller ;; to hold you close, it doesn't need to be grand, it just needs to be genuine. And genuine he is, yes, when he says there won't be a moment when he won't want you in his hold. He's introverted himself into your arms, and just like the comfort of home, it won't become old or stale to him. So he'll want you, want to cling onto you and warmth and soul, at any point, through any feeling. Sadness, happiness, comfort and it's opposite ;; truth be told, he doesn't need a reason, it's an impulse, an instinct to run to you. Sometimes he'll apologize, that's he's too much, that he's weighting you down, holding you hostage, craving you like an insatiable beast, no matter the time, place and situation - and he hopes, wishes, begs that you won't feel his hugs, cuddles, and affection would lose meaning due to overuse. But he always loves you, in body and soul, without the need of an occasion - so please understand, if his arms are always around you, that doesn't mean it's a meaningless habit ;; every single moment mean the world to him, just like you do.

Seungmin, dreamy cuddles - Two of wands, Maat, Ten of Swords

You are where he dreams and what he dreams, both at once. Brimming at the edge of an inception, Seungmin dreams of dreaming with you, next to you, of you. Tangled with you, all is right - he can rest his head, his soul, his heart, they're safe with you, in your loving arms. Only by you can he feel at ease to rest, to let himself overcome by slumber ;; because when he closes his eyes and journeys to Dreamland, his body is protected by yours - but even there, in the astral plane, he'll search for you, to inspire him of paradise, of perfection to plaster a smile on his face in the real world. But he doesn't even have to be asleep to dream, no, no. Not when you're around, he doesn't. He's awake, but he's dreaming, looking at you with galaxies in his eyes, caressing your face with gentleness ;; you're the moon in his dark sky, you light up his soul - and then he dreams with you, too. Into the night, he tells you all he dreams of, all his desires of the future, reveals his secrets wishes to never let you go ;; but they won't remain just dreams, no no. They will be plans, they will be real, your future together will happen, paradise is achievable. And as words stop falling from your lips and eyelids slowly close, once again all is well because you're together.

I.N, magical cuddles - Queen of Cups, II of Swords R, Page of Swords

You've probably never felt something as unique and special as Jeongin's magical touch. His hold on you, it's anything but physical. His trust is holding the hand of your trust, his fears are caressing your fears, his doubts are kissing away yours, his wounds are hugging yours, his vulnerability is cradling your vulnerability with upmost care ;; he wants you to know you're safe. Your thoughts are safe, your emotions are safe, in this bodily hold that serves completely other purposes. And yet, there's some physicality to it too, since your bodies are vessels, communicators of the mind and soul ;; his aura, his effect on you, makes you think you've gone delusional sometimes - because you can swear there's a certain sparkle to his fingertips, and when he glides them above you, it's like he's casting a spell. A spell that heals, a spell that nurtures, calms, fixes absolutely everything. A spell that replaces any evil, any pain - mental, emotional, physical - with purity and goodness. And just how he can caress your mind and heart with his fingers, your thoughts and emotions can smile when he's around.

---

With some members I needed to pull a lot more cards lol, don't mind the inconsistency pls. I also used two different decks in case you're wondering

-Admin Starlight ⭐

If you wish to tip/donate to my work, you can do so on my Ko-Fi!

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blackjackkent · 4 months

Text

So... I was already going to write something about Hector and Karlach, and Hector being forcibly reminded that Karlach would rather die free than go back to Avernus and live, and Karlach laughing it off in the dryad's vision, and Hector feeling like shit about it.

And then this happened when I went back to camp:

"Ngh. Soldier... my engine. It hurts... I think this might be it. Soon. Thing's burning hotter than I knew it could."

"But look - we've just about made it to the city. That'll do me. Let's go protect it. Whatever happens after that is between me and the so-called gods."

"You don't think we'll find you a cure?"

"With this heat going, I can't spare the energy to think. I just want to enjoy whatever's left of this life of mine. Anyway, it could be worse. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. With who I'm meant to be with. How many people can say that?"

-------

She laughs again, grins and shakes it off, and suddenly he can't take it anymore.

"Damn it, no!" he snaps. "Stop that! Stop laughing about it, as if it doesn't matter!"

She blinks, draws back a little, startled. Hector very rarely loses his temper; the last time she saw it was in the House of Healing against Malus's terrible cruelty. Not here, not in camp, where they're safe and they're together. "Soldier--"

"Don't 'Soldier' me." Hector's jaw works and then he looks away from her abruptly, staring down at the ground. "This isn't funny, Karlach. It isn't a joke. You heard what Dammon said. If we don't find a cure, you'll die."

Karlach's smile fades. "You think I don't know what death means, Hec?" she says more sharply. "I've seen way more of it than you have. I know what Dammon said, and I also know what I said. I'm not going back, not ever. Not even to save my life."

"I know. Believe me, I heard every word when you told me." Hector's lips draw into a tight line. "I'm not talking about that."

She hesitates, puzzled. "What are you talking about, then?"

"How am I supposed to feel, when you look at me, and say you're about to die, and laugh?" He looks up at her, his eyes burning with frustration and pain. "Do you expect me to laugh too? Do you expect me to pretend like it makes no difference?"

She frowns. "No, I--"

"Because I can't," he continues hoarsely. "I can't laugh. I can't shake it off the way you can. I..." He pauses, rubs a hand down his face, desperately trying to regain his habitual control, but it feels completely lost to him right now.

"I will never, not once, tell you what decision you need to make. This is your choice. Your life. I wouldn't take that away from you." He shakes his head. "I respect you too much for that. It's your body and your soul, your free will and your choice. But I need you to respect me too, enough to believe that what you choose affects me too."

He feels his voice crack, and dashes his hand in frustration and shame against his eyes, feeling dampness in them. "I love you," he whispers, clenching his fists at his side in the struggle for control. "I love you, Karlach... so much, so deeply... I didn't know feelings like this existed in the world until I met you. I was taught to be self-reliant, to need no one's reassurance, to keep my heart wrapped up in books and faith and dust, but then I found you, and there's no going back to that. I'm lost in you." He hesitates. "As... as I hope you're lost in me."

He can see her expression twisting with emotion but he doesn't give her time to speak. It's all coming out now, everything he usually doesn't have the words - or the bravery - to articulate. "I'm not trying to change your mind. I've learned so much from you, from everything we've experienced out here - and one of the things I've learned is that there are things more important than living or dying. That there are things worth dying for. If this is yours... I won't stand in the way."

He swallows. "But I need you to understand that... I don't know what I will do without you. And when you laugh, when you act as if it doesn't matter that you will be gone... it tears my heart out."

Silence. He's run out of words and stares at the ground in front of her feet, his shoulders tight with the effort of keeping his voice steady.

When she finally answers, her voice is softer. "Dammit, I'm... I'm sorry, Hec. I really am. This, how I am..." She gestures vaguely at her own chest. "In Avernus, it was the only way to stay sane. You had to laugh about it all, or you'd go mental." She snorts bitterly. "I told you, that's the only reason I hung around with Flo. She was a bastard, just a complete motherfucker... but she made me laugh. And I couldn't make it otherwise. It would've crushed me."

She pauses for a moment and then goes on. "I don't want to die, Hec. I really don't. I never had the chance to live like this, loving someone, loving you, and doing good work, and feeling like I mean something. And I don't want to hurt you. Gods... that's the last thing I want."

She reaches out cautiously, takes his hand. He draws a sharp breath, although his shoulders instinctively relax, feeling the familiar pulse of her heat against his skin.

"I love you too, Hec," she says quietly. "You're not the only one who never thought life could feel like this."

He lets the held-in breath out shakily and grips her hand like a lifeline in a storm. "I'm scared, Karlach," he admits in a whisper. "I don't know if I can do this alone."

"You won't be alone." She smiles slightly. "We've got a pretty good group going here, now. And you're way stronger than you think. I've seen it." She hesitates. "Proud of you, y'know."

He closes his eyes and swallows desperately against the lump in his throat. "Thank you," he says softly. A pause. "I'm proud of you too, you know," he adds after a little while. "For standing by what's important to you. I want you to know that, no matter what else happens."

Her fingers tighten around his fiercely. "And I won't laugh about it, not anymore," she adds with a slight nod. "Didn't think about how it sounded to you. I won't make that mistake again."

He nods, musters a slight smile as he looks up at her. "Thank you. That's all I ask."

She steps forward, wraps her arms around him tightly, and he sags forward into her, burying his face into her neck. It's a great irony, he reflects, that the same heat which is going to kill her makes him feel so warm and comfortable in her arms.

His eyes squeeze shut against her and he lets out a single gasped breath, almost a sob. But only the one. Then he has control again, and all he does is lean into her and hold on as if his grip might somehow prevent her from ever slipping away from him.

And though he will not say it aloud, inwardly he prays for some miracle, some way out of the darkness that sits in his future when she is gone. Because he truly does not know how he will bear it.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #drabble #long post #bg3 drabble #karlach x tav #karlach/tav #karlach bg3 #karlach cliffgate #karlach #oops i made myself sad :(#i am trying really hard not to spoil myself on her act 3 questline #but the temptation to look it up and see if there's any chance for a happy ending here is very strong #:( poor hec is trying so hard to do the right thing #and it hurts so bad

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shaylixie · 2 years

Text

Heated.

Word count: 2228

Genre: Angst. Smut.

Pairing: Eminem x fem!reader

Requested: Yes.

Summary: You and Marshall get into an argument, and it escalates.

Warnings / Contains: Smut; language; mention of non-consensual kissing; vvv slight blood (barely though); unprotected sex. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: First time writing smut, so brace yourselves :(( but please enjoy! <3

"Are you being serious right now?" you ask Marshall as he storms into the house and almost slams the door on you.

"You think this shit is a joke?" he snaps back, not pausing his angry strides.

You stare at him. Normally you would understand this kind of reaction. Expect it. Hell, maybe some part of you might even encourage it. But he's got the wrong idea here, and bearing the brunt of Marshall's anger is not fun.

You catch up to him and say, "Well, if you would just allow me to explain what actually happened, you'll realise that this whole fight is a joke."

"I told you I don't want to hear it, aight?"

"Oh, I'm well aware!" you shoot back. "You made that very clear in the car."

"Can't you just leave me alone? Huh? Don't you think you fucked up enough for one night?"

"So you don't want to hear anything I have to say - the truth of what happened tonight - but you're okay with taking your anger out on me?"

He turns to face you then. "I don't need you to tell me shit because I saw what happened. I was there, in case you forgot." He scoffs. "I guess you did. Or do you just not respect me anymore? Do I just not mean shit to you?"

It stings. First, Marshall thinking that you're even capable of such a thing...being so convinced without even hearing what you have to say. Second, accusing you of not caring about him. You wish that was even a little true, because then maybe you wouldn't be dealing with this shit right now.

You reply, softer than before, "You know that's not true, Marshall. You know how much you mean to me, and that I would never do anything to hurt you."

He laughs, but it comes out heavy. "Yeah. That explains why I saw your tongue down some cocksucker's throat."

"My tongue was not down anyone's throat! HE stuck his tongue down MY throat and if you could get your head out of your ass for ONE second, you would have seen how quickly I pushed him off. You think I asked for him to just kiss me like that? No, Marshall. I didn't! And you know what? The worst part is that you didn't even stay to see what really happened. No. You just ran off to your car and didn't even let me explain myself, let alone ask if I was okay. So you know what?" You pause to take a deep breath in, and then out. "I'm outta here."

You turn to walk away, and Marshall lets you. He doesn't say anything. But as soon as you reach the door, you hear quick footsteps behind you and feel his hand grab your wrist. He firmly but gently pulls you back, and you glare at him in response.

"I'm a fucking asshole," he says.

"Jeez." You scoff at him. "You don't say."

"How can I make it up to you?"

"Why don't you ask that 'cocksucker' since you're so convinced I wanna fuck him? In fact, maybe I'll be the cock sucker." You said it out of anger to hurt him; to make him feel the way he made you feel.

"Y/n," he warns. He steps closer to you and you can practically feel the anger radiating off of him. Good.

"What?!"

"Don't say that shit again." His voice is strained.

"Or what?"

He leans in, his gaze never leaving yours. You'd be lying if you said his anger and intensity didn't act as an aphrodisiac. His grip on your wrist tightened.

"Or I'm going to have to remind you who the fuck you belong to."

Your breath hitches. His eyes search yours for confirmation, but he doesn't need to.

"Not you," you seethe.

Before he can react, you crash your lips against his. He kisses you hungrily, all teeth and tongue and no air whatsoever. He pulls you stark against him and through his jeans, you feel just how much of an aphrodisiac your anger is for him too.

He breaks the kiss momentarily to take your shirt off, and discards it on the floor. When you're completely topless, his lips find yours again and his cold hand glides up your body to palm your right breast, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your peaked nipple.

"You sure about that, y/n?" he asks, breathing heavily.

"Prove me wrong," you shoot back.

He pinches your nipple in response and as you yelp, he bends down to flick his tongue over it. Just once. You toss his cap somewhere and then almost rip his shirt off. Your hands run greedily from his stomach up to his chest, before wrapping around his neck.

"I don't have to prove you wrong. You're so fucking needy, you're doing it for me." He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. "You couldn't stop gushing for me even if you tried."

"Fuck you."

He grips your bottom lip between his teeth in response and pushes you up against the nearest wall. At the impact, you feel a slight sting on your lip and get a hint of a metallic taste in your mouth. Marshall drives his hips up causing you to moan, and his tongue gently brushes over your lower lip, soothing it. He sucks it until the metallic taste is gone.

"Maybe you will. But for now, I want to see how right I am."

You feel his hand disappear up your skirt, along your thigh, followed by his fingers moving your panties to the side. He runs one finger through your folds, spreading your wetness. You take a sharp breath in, and when his finger ghosts over your fluttering clit, you throw your head back and shudder.

"Fuck" he breathes, barely audible. "You like that? I should ignore your aching clit all night just to punish you for running that fucking mouth."

You shift on his fingers in response, willing yourself to deprive him of hearing your sweet moans. When he catches on, he dips his fingertips inside you and making eye contact, drives them further up. You can't help it. You moan and kiss his smug, stupid face. He starts pumping his fingers in and out, curling his fingertips so as to brush against that spot that drives you crazy. You move your hips in time with him as he fucks you with his fingers and you try your hardest to keep eye contact.

"Tell me who the fuck you belong to."

You purse your lips, and then let out a breathy moan as he picks up the pace.

"Fucking tell me or I'll stop right now, y/n."

You're about to give him the answer he wants when you feel that familiar unravelling deep inside and your orgasm proceeds to rip through you. He guides you through it as you gush on his fingers, and as soon as you come down from it, he pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean. He puts you down and you catch your breath.

"You didn't give me an answer."

"I'm sorry, what was the question?" You feign ignorance, but you both know it's an act.

When Marshall just looks at you as though you dropped a diss track on his ass, you backtrack. "Okay, fine. You want your answer?"

He continues his angry stare.

"I do belong to someone," you affirm.

"And?"

"And he does make me gush all the time. Without even trying."

He steps closer. "Uh huh?"

"And I would never be fucked right if it weren't for him. God, the things I'd do right now to sit on his face."

Marshall swallows. "Say his name. Tell me who exactly you belong to." His fingers caress your thigh.

You pause.

"Fifty."

The immediate change in Marshall makes you regret having ever been born with a mouth. He steps back abruptly, turns around, and takes a deep breath. His fists clench at his sides and he takes a few steps away. Furious doesn't even begin to describe it. Shit. Maybe you do run your mouth too much. Just as you're about to approach, Marshall turns around and stalks dangerously towards you. He grabs your wrist, not bothering to be gentle, and pulls you in the direction of the living room. There, he kicks off his shoes and tosses his jeans aside. When he took the belt off, he looked at you for a single second before discarding that too. You can see his bulge through his underwear, and your mouth goes dry with nerves. You can't say the same about your pussy.

He walks up to you and yanks your skirt down. You step out of it.

"Shoes." His tone makes it very clear that he's not playing.

You kick them off and then feel his fingers move between your legs. He pulls your panties down by the fabric against your pussy, simultaneously feeling how soaked you are - both from a few minutes ago and from now. He throws them aside.

"Floor. Now."

You do as he says and kneel down on the plush carpet, spreading your legs a little. But he pushes you so that you go to lie down instead, and then he comes to hover over you.

"Do you know how fucking furious you make me?" he growls.

You look at him defiantly, thinking about earlier. The anger starts building up again. "Do you know how fucking pissed you make me?"

You stare at each other for a second.

He brings your arms up over your head and pins you tightly by the wrists. "If you even fucking think about moving-"

"You'd have to think about fucking me right first."

"Fuck you," he spits.

"If you can," you retort.

"I can't stand you. You know that? I can't fucking stand you, y/n."

You push his underwear down with your feet. "Looks like you're standing pretty well, actually."

When it looks like you've pissed him off to the point beyond repair, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him against you.

"Show me who I belong to, Marshall. Make me say it." You nip his lip. "Scream it."

He doesn't need any more motivation. He adjusts himself at your entrance and then immediately rams into you. His cock fills you up completely as it repeatedly slams in and out of you. You moan freely as he grunts and curses with you in harmony. He isn't concerned about being gentle, and instead works all that fury out. You don't mind even a little. You move your hips as fast as you can, trying to keep up with him. He lets go of your wrists and instead sits up on his knees. His fingers dig firmly into your ass as he lifts your hips up and drives his cock deeper into you, your tits bouncing. He bottoms out with each delicious thrust and you grip his arms, your nails marking him.

He slows down just a little. "Who. Do. You. Be. Long. To?" he asks with each thrust.

You moan his name.

"Who?"

"YOU, MARSHALL. Fuck!" you pant.

"Say it again," he insists.

"Fuck off."

He stops.

"Fuck no okay I'm sorry! You! You, Marshall. I belong to Marshall Bruce Mathers the third! No one else. Now let me cum already, pleeeeeease!!!!"

He resumes fucking into you and you whine with pleasure.

"Cum for me, baby," he commands.

He picks up the pace and you do. You arch your back as you scream his name and your body starts shuddering as you cum wave after wave onto his cock. At the sight and the feel of your body clenching and shaking around him, Marshall reaches his own high and cums inside you, until you're dripping down his cock with a mixture of both your release and his. He collapses onto you and you wrap your arms around him, one hand in his hair. It takes what feels like a long time for you to come down from your highs. He kisses you deeply and your other hand travels down and grabs his ass, taking him by surprise. You laugh underneath him and he rolls his eyes, but smiles.

"Still can't stand me?" you ask teasingly.

"I'm the only one that can stand you. And handle you. And fuck you right." He smirks.

You roll your eyes at the confidence. "Territorial, much?"

"Have to protect what's mine."

He pulls out and watches as you start leaking with his release. "Shit. I'll never get over this sight. But do you know how fucking hard it is to clean carpet?"

"Hey! You dragged me here. It's your problem."

"You know what?" He stands up and starts walking away. "Let's see how you get up the stairs on your own."

Prick. He knows how weak your legs are, let alone how sore you are between your legs. The stairs will likely only be a beatable foe in a day or two.

"Fine. Guess I'll sleep here then."

He sighs and walks back to you, amused by your stubborness but hiding a smile. "I should let you." But he picks you up anyway and carries you to the bedroom, where he cleans you up and then goes back to face the damn carpet.

#eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #angst #smut #shay's requests

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mediocre-stories · 7 days

Text

The Cliffs

TW: mentions of depression, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of suicide, mentions of death, vulgar language

Authours Note: Hi everyone! Thank you for your patience with me! I am officially done school for the summer so I will have tons of time to write! I hope you enjoy this one, writing it broke my heart a little bit but there is a happy ending! Once again this story is based off of Shane's six heart event from Stardew Valley. I hope you enjoy reading and as always feel free to leave me some constructive critism!

It was another sleepless night. You had been having a lot of those lately. The air in the farmhouse was heavy with the summer heat, your sheets clung to your body, and the mattress you laid on itched at your skin. You rolled over, peering to your wallclock.

2 am. You groaned.

You made the decision to go for a walk, you slipped on your work boots, pulled on a wool sweater, and headed out the door.

It was raining hard, the water hitting your skin with enough force to make it lightly sting. The trees lit up with the flashes of lighting, and the valley air felt crisp as it entered your lungs. You walked to your favourite place, Cindersap Forest. The quiet of the trees and the calm of the lake soothed your nerves. You walked along the edge of the lake, letting the rain cool your flushed skin.

You made your way towards the cliffs. As you walked, a flash of lightning revealed the figure of a man laying near the edge of the cliffs. You jumped. As the lightning illuminated the forest again, you realized the figure was Shane. You approached him cautiously.

"Shane?"

He lifted his head off the ground, looking up at you. His dark hair stuck to his face due to the rain. His eyes were glazed over and he slurred his words as he spoke.

"Y/N...I-I'm sorry." He hiccuped.

You felt a pit grow in your stomach, "why?"

"My life... it's a pathetic fucking joke." Shane paused to let out a small chuckle, resting his head on the ground again. "I mean look at me." The smile disappered from Shane's face as his voice cracked with tears, "I'm too small and stupid to... to take control of my life."

As Shane spoke, you moved to sit beside him. You hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, wanting to find some form of comfort to provide him. He seemed to flinch at your touch.

"I'm such a fucking piece of shit, Y/N. I do nothing but disappoint everyone around me. Marnie can hardly look at me, Jas is scared to talk to me. Did you know I'm her godfather? At least I'm supposed to be, but I can't even do that. Her parents were my colege friends, they died in a car accident and left her with me. They trusted me, and look what I've done."

Shane's body racked with sobs as your rubbed his back. "Shane, you're doing all you can. You were put in a difficult situation, but Jas has a roof over her head, food in her belly, and people who love her."

"But none of that is because of me, that's all Marnie Y/N, not me."

The storm seemed to get stronger as Shane talked. The thunder rumbled through your body and the lightning illuminated the rocky cliffs below.

"I've been coming here often lately...looking down. Here's my chance to finally take control of my life. I could just jump, I wouldn't hurt anyone anymore."

You sighed, looking out at the sky. You let Shane rant, knowing that nothing you could say would help, he had to want to help himself. You just prayed to Yoba that he would realize this sooner than later. He laughed again.

"I can't do it Y/N. I'm too fucking scared, just like always. It's pathetic. All I do is work, sleep, and drink just to try and forget about how much I hate myself. Why should I even go on Y/N? Tell me why I shouldn't jump."

You paused, racking your brain for the right words, "Shane, I can't tell you what to do and what not to do. You have to make your own decisons, but I am here for you. Always."

He rolled onto his back and looked up at you, gently grabbing your hand that was rubbing his back. He interlocked his fingers with yours and squeezed. "Thank you Y/N. Thank you for telling me like it is. I'm tired of the bullshit I hear from people. I'm so sorry I've been so mean to you."

"Hey, don't worry about it. It was refreshing to talk to a real person again. People in this town can be too cheery sometimes." you joked. He smiled, rolling back over to face the cliff.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you should take me to the hospital now."

"Okay."

You stood up and helped Shane to his feet. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you stumbled to the hospital. You had to stop a few times to let him vomit, rubbing his back each time.

-----------------------------------

You were sat in the waiting room. Maru had brought you a blanket, as the rain had soaked through your clothes and chilled you to the bone. You waited anxiously for what felt like hours. You had called Marnie, who was now sitting beside you, picking at her nails to distact herself. When Dr. Harvey finally emerged from the emergency room, you both stood up.

"You can come and see him."

You and Marnie entered the emergency room. There was Shane, laying on a hospital bed. His skin was pale and sickly looking. He was hooked up to so many unfamiliar machines. He looked so small laying in that bed, you heard Marnie sob. Dr. Harvey broke the silence.

"I've pumped his stomach and rehydrated his body. He's going to be okay. It's good that you brought him in though, Y/N. " Dr. Harvey sighed, "Too much alcohol is terrible for the body, but right now I'm most worried about his mental health."

Dr. Harvey moved towards Marnie, pulling out a pamphlet from his pocket, "When he comes to, I'll have a chat with him about his treatment options. I know an excellent counselor in Zuzu City. Life can be painful sometimes, but there's always hope for a better future. You've got to believe in that."

-----------------------------------

It was the next afternoon. You left the hospital early in the morning, returning to the farm to do your chores. After everything was tended to, you fell asleep on your couch, finally catching up on the hours of sleep you had missed last night. You awoke to a knock on your door. You moved to your front door and opened it, rubbing your eyes groggily at the light from outside entering your small farmhouse. There stood Shane, looking sheepish, but much better than last night.

"Hey." you spoke.

"Hey..." he replied, looking at his shoes. "Oh man, how do I say this? I'm really sorry about what happened last night at the cliffs. That was embarrassing."

You gave him a small smile, "it's okay. I'm just glad you weren't alone."

He looked up and smiled back, "yeah, thank you for being there for me."

"I told you I always will be."

The conversation went silent, the only sound coming from the whistling of the wind. Shane spoke again.

"I've decided I want to see a therapist. Harvey got me in touch with a colleague of his. Anyways...I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me. And I want you to know that I am going to take things a little more seriously from now on."

"I'm really happy for you Shane." In the heat of the moment, you hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck, taking in the smell of his colonge. You felt his body stiffen for a moment, then relax at your touch. He brought his arms around your waist. You stayed there for a moment before you both pulled away.

"Well uh, I should get going. Thanks again Y/N." Shane said, you noticed a small blush creep across his cheeks. "Maybe after my first counselling session I could stop by and we could talk?"

"Of course, you're always welcome on the farm."

"Thank you Y/N, I haven't had a friend in a long time."

#fanfic #shane stardew valley #stardew valley #sdv #sdv shane x farmer #sdv shane x reader #sdv shane #shane x farmer #stardew shane

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specialbrewbutterbeer · 2 years

Text

Back In North Island | Pt.1 (Bradshaw!Reader)

Word Count: 4241

TW: A bit of angst, a bit of fun, mentions a dead parent or two

AN: I really enjoyed writing this (to my normal followers, soz I'll be posting the normal stuff when I get back into the groove for it, but for now I'm doing this to indulge the need to write. I have a second part otw but I need some feedback and any suggestions are very welcome! (As are requests for this!)

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

"I can't believe you're really still angry at him." She spoke, her dark hair falling over her face as she played with her beer mat.

"I can't believe you're dressed like that and in this bar-" He said, rolling his eyes at his sister. She was wearing a slightly cropped white ribbed vest and straight legged blue jeans, and an old scuffed up pair of chelsea boots.

"Oh shut up Brad, I'm not a teenager- and as if it's your business what I wear anyway!" She laughed and adjusted the hem of her top.

"Why are you here anyway? I thought you were-" He paused for a second. "Actually, no- I have had no idea where you've been for months?" He gave her a small shove. "Don't do that to me!"

"You always could have asked? It's not the stone age, we have this thing called a phone nowadays." She laughed at him.

"I did Sandy!" He shook his head and scowled mockingly.

"Okay- fine. I've been, I don't know-" Sandy shrugged. "Around?"

"I don't think I even wanna know." Rooster sighed and took a sip from his drink.

"Are you ever gonna get off my back?" She asked.

"No- it's my job to piss you off. What kind of big brother would I be if you didn't hate me sometimes?" He drank and looked around the bar.

"Aww- I could never hate you Brad-" She laughed and put an arm around her brother. Rooster smiled and rolled his eyes once again. "Oh- my god! So you can smile?" She laughed and roughed up his hair and he shrugged her off- they still acted like children.

"But you really do mean you're still mad?" She settled back down onto her barstool.

"Yes- he too four years off of my career that I'm never gonna get back." Rooster nodded.

"Just for that?" She tilted her head.

"Four years Sandy- that's a long time in any line of work. And for no good reason." Raised an eyebrow and motioned with his hand, frustrated.

"When was the last time you even saw him?" She asked, and got no response, Bradley just stared away from her with gritted teeth. "I haven't spoken to him since Mom's funeral. I don't think I'd know what to say anymore." She spoke.

"I never stopped you talking to him." Her brother said through his teeth.

"I know. I just- I didn't know how to bridge the gap- and I was always gonna follow your lead." She smiled.

"Let's talk about something else? Please?" He asked and turned back to her.

"Okay. Like what?" She sighed and asked.

"Like, why you're here?" He smiled.

"I don't like being in the house alone." She hesitated before she answered.

"What?" He asked like she was joking.

"I don't like being there without you, all the pictures of Mom, and Dad. It just feels like a sad place to me. It's somewhere that's filled with memories I missed out on, like it's someone else's house. But I don't wanna take em down- that just feels wrong. So if I have somewhere else to be- I will be there." She admitted, and earned a sad and sorry look from her brother. "And I'm here because I can be. I heard you were coming down here for some training, so I thought I'd pass by and say hello." She tried to perk herself up

"Right-" He nodded.

"Don't look so sorry for me- please, it makes me look all soft." She swatted her hand in the air.

"Christ- okay." He put his hands up defensively. They weren't great at the heart to heart conversations. They had been when they were closer, but they'd grown apart over the years.

"You gonna introduce me to all your friends or what?" She asked and looked over at the rest of the pilots playing pool across the bar.

"I wouldn't call all of them friends-" Rooster shook his head.

"Hi!" She hopped off of her chair and called with a sweet grin.

"Okay then-" He raised his eyebrows and followed- all too used to his little sister's energy and antics.

"If you flirt with any of these guys- I will kill you." Bradley leant down and whispered to her as they walked over.

"What about the lady? That means she's all mine then, eh?" She laughed, teasing him. He just rolled his eyes again. He thought she was funny really but he wasn't gonna let her know that.

"My, my, who do we have here?" One of them, a taller man, with dark hair and a sort of arrogance to him, asked, leaning on his pool cue.

"Hangman- everyone- this is my baby sister, Sandy." He spoke, slightly apprehensively, as though he thought he were making a mistake.

There was a ripple of hellos and such forth as hangman rounded the table and stood next to them, leaning back now on the pool table. Phoenix also stood by, as did Bob and Coyote. Names which she learned as Bradley pointed them out for her.

"You're his sister?" Hangman asked. "Neither of you was adopted?" She raised her eyebrow, with a smile and shook her head. "Cos you're much better looking than him, let me say that." Hangman laughed, and Sandy did too.

"No- exactly the same blood in our veins." She grinned and hooked her arm through her brothers, pulling him to her side. "Eh?" She laughed and looked up at him.

"She was born on our kitchen floor- she's been trouble since day one." He shrugged.

"He loves me really." She smiled, and continued to chat with the group for a while, Hangman and Coyote brought over some more drinks and she definitely got a few looks from Hangman and some of the others that her brother didn't appreciate.

She was sat chatting with Phoenix, bored with teasing her brother by being flirtatious with his male colleagues, and wanting some real conversation when her brother sat himself down beside them, waiting for his turn at the pool table again, as Coyote agonised over his shot.

Sandy turned at looked at him, perched on the arm of the chair Phoenix was sat on.

"You've really gotta lighten up-" She laughed.

"Huh?" He looked up, shaken out of his focus.

"You've got that stupid serious look on your face again-" She smiled and he looked up at her with a blank expression.

She kept her smile and stood her ground, watching his moustache twitch as he tried not to smile or laugh.

"Well- shit." He spoke slowly and let a grin form on his face. "I suppose that just won't do." He stood, leaning his cue against the table and walking off.

Sandy rolled her eyes, then looked back at Phoenix who gave her a questioning look.

"I'll show you serious, baby!" He called back in his showman's voice.

He unplugged the jukebox, and the whole bar groaned as the music faltered and stopped. But quickly, the tinkle of the piano started up.

A grin started on Sandy's face as she lead Phoenix over to the piano. She put a hand on her brother's shoulder.

"You're missing something." She spoke, mockingly, knowing the script.

"Am I?" He grinned. "Apparently I'm missing something?" He looked up at Phoenix with a cheesy grin. "Well- might you assist me, baby sister?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes, as she fought a melancholy smile and replaced it with an amused grin. She looked over his shoulder and took his sunglasses off of his shirt, where they hung, unfolded the legs and placed them on his face before patting him on the head.

"You're ready maestro, for your big performance." She stiffled a giggle as she spoke. They'd been doing this one since they were kids. But she knew the first song he always played. She slunk back as the other pilots and patrons gathered around and the first few notes started to play. She couldn't be in there with so many people and listen to it.

She slipped out the door and leant back on the frame, taking in big gulps of air as she let her smile fall.

She heard the first words come spilling from her brother's mouth, in that showy booming way they always did. He could be playful when he wanted to be. She missed that.

But this song, as much as he loved it, she hated. She was so resentful toward this song. It was a part of their dad, a man she had never known. She'd used to sing it with them, but as she grew older she felt like it was something that wasn't hers. It was her brother's and their dad's song. She never heard it from him, she never would. It was too sad and to detached from her. It felt invasive to be a part of. Like claiming something that wasn't her own.

She bit her lip and laughed as the chorus came and everyone sang along. She felt silly, standing out there alone. She sighed and let her head lean to the side. She closed her eyes for a moment and just allowed herself to breath. She didn't want to go back in with puffy eyes.

She opened them, and her heart just about stopped.

Surely not.

Was the world determined to absolutely break her tonight? Maybe.

And it was working.

There he was. Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell. Why he was anywhere near here she didn't know but he clearly was.

"Fuck- off..." She whispered under her breath, this couldn't be true.

She squinted, it was definitely him. Looking in through an open door, she followed his gaze. Bradley.

She almost called out to him but got all choked up before she could, and she watched him walk away.

She shook herself out of it and went back inside. She pushed her way through to her brother, which was difficult, the place was heaving. But she did reach him, just as the song finished with a cheer. He'd never noticed she had been furthur than a few meters from him, thankfully.

"Hey-" She leant down and put her hands on his shoulders as he laughed.

"You good?" He asked, looking back over his shoulder, immediately recognizing that his sister was a bit off. She just smiled and nodded.

"I'm good. I just gotta go- Text me when you're not busy, I promise I'll reply this time." Sandy spoke before holding his face in her hands, one on his chin and jaw and the other on his forehead, and tilting to the side, and kissing his cheek, like their Mom had always done to embarrass them in front of their friends, and now using it as her own goodbye for her brother. She ruffled his hair and laughed before retreating.

"Will do- See ya sis!" He rolled his eyes and put his thoughts back to the piano.

She made her way back outside, having grabbed her jacket and slinging it over her arm. She ran around the side of the building where she had seen Maverick head for, just in time to see his motorbike disappear over the crest of the road.

She didn't know quite what to do.

She groaned. She'd have to call in some favours.

Bradley had always hated that she got involved with pilots- mainly because they were mostly ones that he knew and flew with. But could she help it? She came to visit him sometimes, she went out to a bar and got hit on by his colleagues. She did it to annoy him sometimes, but sometimes she really did just like em. She wasn't massively interested in settling down either- so the occasional short term boyfriend, one night stand or date was ideal, especially when she was younger. She just never found anyone she liked enough to stick with, and she was fine with that, her life was fine the way it was in terms of love.

But now it was all quite handy. She asked around a little and got an address to where someone thought he might be if he were at North Island. Thankfully it was off base accomodation, for the instructors, as that's what she was guessing he was here for, so not hard to get to.

She punched the address into the Uber app and was soon stood at the end of the street.

She looked up it and spotted the motorbike. Exactly as she remembered it.

She walked up to it, and circled it, looking at all the scratches and even a sticker she had put on it as a kid. She remembered doing it, with her 'Uncle Mav' crouched down with her, a big stupid grin on his face like he always had with them as kids. She had pressed it on, with a little help to get the air bubbles out, and it had been a triumphant moment for her. Then she'd been put on his shoulders and they'd paraded around the house shouting about it.

It was just a little hello kitty sticker, but it was as well looked after as the others. Not peeling or much discolored, even after all these years.

She looked back at the house she was stood outside of. She took a step towards the door- and hesitated before stepping back again.

She paced, too nervous to go and knock. And finally just sat down on the kurb, put her head in her hands and let her jacket fall onto the floor beside her.

She sat there, her head swimming, which probably wasn't helped by the drinking she had been doing- although she was by no means drunk.

She suddenly felt a presence beside her.

"Since when did you cry, little girl?" She heard in the most comforting and familiar voice she could imagine.

She looked up and stood quickly, wiping the tears from her eyes. She just wrapped her arms around him and nearly forgot to breath.

"Hey-" He laughed. "You good?" He asked.

"No!" She pulled away. "I haven't seen you in like- fifteen years! You can't just ask me if I'm good!" She exclaimed.

"Alright-" He laughed gently and pulled her back in. "What are you crying on my doorstep for anyway?" He asked.

"I'm not crying." She mumbled.

"Can I help you anyway?" He spoke gently.

"No. I just missed you." She shook her head. "I saw you at the bar and-"

"Followed me home?" He cut in.

"No- I asked around." She laughed.

"I think that's probably more illegal-" He smiled.

"Since when did you care about legality?" She cocked an eyebrow up at him, though he wasn't much taller than her.

"That's fair." Maverick nodded. "I missed you too- but I thought you and your brother weren't talking to me?" This time he raised an eyebrow.

"He isn't. I just didn't want to make him mad- but fuck that." He spoke.

"Alright-" Mav gave a smile. "Let's walk- come on." He spoke, picking up her jacket from the floor and holding out his arm.

"So- how've you been? I can't keep an eye on you, I can't just pull your records." He laughed.

"Oh, I've been okay. Spent most of my time pissing my brother off- but we get along fine. I still live at the house- but it's weird, I don't like it there. I don't think I've spent more than a month total in it alone, in the last... Three years?" Sandy explained.

"What? Why not?" He looked confused.

"It's just kinda sad- without Mom and with all the pictures up of Dad and you and everything. It's like living in someone elses house. But I can't sell it or take anything down, that just feels wrong- and my brother would feel awful about it." She continued.

"Oh-" He nodded, understanding somewhat. "You work? Got a boyfriend? What else is going on?" He moved on.

"I work at bar back at home- have done for a few years now. No boyfriend, no husband, no kids. Still just Sandy Bradshaw." She nodded. "You really haven't missed out on much."

"I've missed out on plenty." Maverick spoke with a sort of sadness.

"What about you Mav? What have I missed out on?" She asked.

"Not much. Just been getting myself in trouble- as usual." He gave his signature smile.

"I can believe that." She nodded and gave a laugh. They walked down the street, slowly and chatted, caught up. She wasn't surprised he was still just a Capitain- if he couldn't fly he'd have no reason for living.

"What are you doing round here anyway? I know Bradley's been called back for- more training? He couldn't tell me. That got anything to do with this?" She asked.

"Uh- yeah." He nodded. "They want me to be an instructor- Narrow all those guys down to a team of six." He explained.

"Oh- Are you and Brad gonna be okay with that?" She asked, becoming serious for a moment.

"I don't know- We'll have to be." He shrugged.

"Every so often we talk about you- I always try and get him to let the past be the past- but he's stubborn." She spoke.

"We'll manage." Mav said nonchalantly- but it was very clear it was weighing on him.

"I really resent my brother sometimes, you know." She spoke after a moment of quiet. "Being round here reminds me of it. Makes me think of Dad." She suddenly spoke with a melancholy that was unusual of her.

"I wish you'd have met him." Maverick nodded and put an arm around her.

"I think my brother forgets that I didn't, that he got four years, and I got pictures. When I think of Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw, the word 'Dad' flashes up and yet- It feels like it's Bradley's Dad not mine. He has memories, Great Balls of Fire" She laughed. "He even looks like him. Our Dad barely even knew I existed-"

"But do you know how excited he was?" Mav cut her off, eager to let her know she had something, even something small. "He was crazy about you- and he didn't even know you yet." He grinned.

"Really?" She seemed surprised.

"Yeah- Here, look." He stopped and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through it and found a photograph of a photograph, which he pulled up and showed her. It was of her Mom and Dad. Her Mom with just a little bump and her Dad with his arm around her, leaning down to kiss it. 'Baby Bradshaw 2.0' was written down the side in biro, in her Dad's handwriting.

"And he was convinced you were gonna be a little girl, he was excited about that-" Maverick smiled at her. "He talked about doing all the stuff Dad's do with their daughters- said you weren't gonna be allowed a boyfriend till you were fourty five." They both laughed. "He's always with you kid. Don't worry about that. He's looking down on us, and your Mom too."

"Is Brad like him?" She asked, but continued before Mav could reply. "Cos I think Dad was probably less angry than he is. He's always smiling, in all the pictures." She looked out at their surroundings, almost nervous.

"Yeah- I think so. You are too- you laugh the same as him." Mav smiled and nudged her playfully. "But Bradley has more to be mad about I guess."

"What? You pulling his papers? Mom and Dad not being around?" She asked and Mav shrugged a little. "I'm mad about Mom and Dad too- and I'm mad at him for being mad at you!" She let out a frustrated laugh. "The best thing you ever did was pulling his application!"

"You might have to explain that-" He asked.

"I was fourteen, he was eighteen, Mom had just died. Where was I gonna go? Our grandparents? They were all too old to look after me by then. I know he wasn't thinking about that at the time- but he was leaving me out in cold if he went." She spoke with frustration.

"I would have made sure you weren't out on your own. I was never gonna let either of you go without." Mav shook his head.

"What I ended up with was four more years with my brother. And they were good years- we were as close as we ever were. You gave me that, but Brad being so mad at you, took you away. You're the closest thing I ever actually had to a dad in my life." Mav stopped and just stared at her. "I lost that when Brad stopped talking to you."

"I'm sorry- I should have tried harder to reach out to you, I didn't think-" Mav frowned and spoke entirely sincerely.

"Oh shush- I should have too." She shook her head and smiled. "He can't get that mad at me. I'm just glad I grew a pair and decided to talk again."

"So am I, kid. So am I." Mav decided to move the conversation on. "You never thought about joining up? Like your brother?"

"No- flying terrifies me!" She laughed. "It never appealed anyway-" Mav nodded.

"Right- okay." He smiled. "Kinda glad about that actually- you'd have had it tough, I've heard how the girls get treated in the academy-" Sandy bit her lip and tried not smile. "What's that look for?" He gave a confused and slight laugh.

"I wasn't totally removed from it- Uh-" She hesitated for a moment. "I've got a bit of a reputation; actually it's not much different from yours-" She laughed and hid her face for a moment.

"Oh god-" Mav looked away, apprehensive of what she was gonna say but having a good idea- he couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"You can't be mad at me for it though-"

"No- I haven't heard it yet, I won't be." He laughed, squeezing the girl a little, his arm still around her.

"I used to go visit Brad, in the academy, then at Top Gun, whenever he was in the country- and you know- I'd go out to a bar or two, and maybe there were a few pilots about..."

"Sandy-" Mav shook his head.

"What was I supposed to do? Say no when a guy hit on me? Just because they were a pilot? And they knew my brother?" She laughed. "Besides, it pissed Bradley off and I enjoyed myself. Never did any harm! Well, apart from-" she stopped.

"What?" Mav asked.

"I think I should stop talking now- I don't like that look." She grinned as Maverick looked more apprehensive than he ever had.

"What look? This is just what I look like!" They both laughed. "Finish the sentence-"

"They started calling me 'Bunny'." She rolled her eyes and hesitated but eventually said.

"Like...?" Mav asked hoping it wasn't going to be the explanation it most likely was going to be.

"Like Playboy-" She laughed.

"Okay- now I'm mad- on behalf of your Dad and Brother- I'm mad." Mav shook his head and kinda laughed.

"I thought it was funny at the time- but I look back on it now and wish I'd not let them call me that- I don't regret the rest of it though." She laughed and Mav shook his head.

"No wonder Bradley was pissed off-" He spoke.

"Yeah, but you, of all people, cannot be mad at me." She looked up at him.

"Yeah- alright, that's fair." He reasoned.

"I've heard way more than I ever wanted to about you." She laughed and scrunched up her nose.

"Yeah- sorry about that." Mav laughed at her reaction.

"But- yeah, I was young and dumb and having plenty of fun. Done more than my fair share of sneaking out of windows." She grinned. "I am still young, dumb and having fun-"

"If any of my pilots get their hands on you- I will be sending them on an exercise that they won't be coming back from." He said, too seriously.

"Oh my god- You and Brad are too much of the same-" She laughed heartily.

"It's getting late- you got somewhere to stay?" He asked, looking around as the sun was sinking well below the horizon.

"Yeah- for the couple nights- then I'm supposed to be heading home." She nodded.

"You good to get there?" She nodded again.

"I'll grab an Uber."

"Right- I'll wait with you till it gets here-" He spoke and she started tapping in the details into her phone.

"Mav?" She asked, looking up when she was done.

"Yeah?" He spoke gently.

"I still want you in my life. I've only got you and Bradley- I'm glad I came and found you today, but, I don't want this to be it." She explained.

"Here, give me your phone." He spoke and she handed it over. He typed a few things in and handed it back.

"That's my phone number, you message me whenever you want- if you ever need anything or just to talk- whatever- Alright?" He asked. She nodded and engulfed him in a big hug.

"Thank you." She bit her cheek to stop herself tearing up, again. Soon her Uber was coming along the street. She waved goodbye and jumped in, though she didn't want to.

She looked down at her phone screen-

He'd named himself 'Uncle Mav' in her phone.

#nick bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #goose #top gun maverick #topgun #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #maverick #fic #Bradshaw!reader #sister!reader

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