#(( and then the motions just clocking me in the jaw here. ))

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Routine Check Up

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: The good Dr. Lecter stops by to check up on Will Graham's favorite pet.

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, i think i was possessed while writing this, Plot? What fucking plot?, light petplay... but in the female gaze ig, Dom/Sub dynamic, light dehumanization, threesome, Hannibal gets to put his PhD to good use,Oral, unprotected p in v (don't you dare) ,dirty talk, self indulgent afffff, ....breeding kink?

A/N: I DECIDED TO SAY FUCK IT. @glitchedpup dedicating it to you here too!

---------

You woke to the sound of a car pulling up the gravel road, and Will’s dogs barking outside.

On the bedside clock, it read eight thirty AM. You usually woke up around the same time as Will, but you supposed he’d let you sleep in a little longer this time. It was a Sunday, after all.

Moments later, there was knocking on the front door. Will padded over from the kitchen and he opened it to reveal Hannibal. You sat up in the bed, curious, and crawled forward a little to get a better look.

“Hannibal,” he greeted in an even tone, even if you could tell he was a little surprised. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just a routine check-up, Will,” he said with a small shrug, looking over his shoulder at you. “Have to keep her healthy, right?”

“No courtesy call beforehand? That’s uncharacteristic of you,” Will noted, stepping aside to let him in. “I suppose you meant to surprise us.”

Once more, Hannibal smiled enigmatically, a glint of mischief in his amber eyes. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”

He hung up his jacket by the door, and Will motioned for you to stand up and come closer. 

You shot him a quizzical look, but made no questions as you scurried over to them, standing at attention next to Will.

“Hello, there,” Hannibal said amicably. “Mind if I take a look at you?”

You nodded quickly, almost eagerly. Will raised an eyebrow at this, but Hannibal kept his eyes on you. 

This was one of his little games, a constant reminder of who had the upper hand. You knew what he called you to others — Will Graham’s favorite pet. 

Still, you didn’t mind playing along, and it seemed like Will didn’t either. You weren’t sure what that said about you, but you found it wasn’t quite as mortifying as one might expect.

“I’ll need her to…” Hannibal trailed off, gesturing at your figure.

“Strip,” Will commanded, barely glancing at you.

You did as told, eyeing the doctor peripherally. He was appraising you as well, slightly impressed at your unflinching obedience. 

You’d been well trained, after all.

You weren’t wearing much, just one of Will’s t-shirts and cotton underwear, both of which fell unceremoniously to the floor. You didn’t cover yourself as you were bared to the room, instead keeping your expression neutral and arms at your sides.

“Where do you need me?” You asked, voice low.

“Just where you are is fine,” he said, setting down his bag. “Now let’s see…”

First, he checked your pulse, fingers resting gently on your wrist as he looked down at his watch. When his fingers moved to your neck, you kept eye contact as he felt your lymph nodes, tracing up to your jaw, behind your ear and down to your collarbones.

His eyes watched your throat work as you swallowed hard, glancing at Will. Hannibal knew just how much you trusted him to guide you. You cared for him the same way he cared for you, and surrender was a price you gladly paid for it.

For a long time, you had a constant need to be in control of not just yourself, but also your surroundings. Every detail had to be accounted for; Every single possibility dissected and analyzed. It was essential for survival. 

That was until you met Will, and you grew sick and tired of control. There were no more ruins to scurry out of, or prevent. Devotion was all that was left, and that was something Hannibal could understand.

“Open your mouth, please. Let’s see these teeth,” Hannibal instructed. 

Once more, you did as told. He hummed in thought as he looked over your canines and front teeth. Then he stretched your lips back with two fingers so he could see all of your molars, too. 

“Good,” he murmured under his breath, and for a brief, wild moment, you wanted to sink your teeth into his hand. 

His thumb then swiped over your bottom lip, and it was then that you gave in to your urges. You nipped at it, holding it between your teeth for a moment.

“Ah, ah,” Will tsked, reaching over and grabbing the back of your neck firmly. 

He gave you a stern look, and you let go of Hannibal’s thumb grudgingly.

Hannibal chuckled, delighted. “Sharp, as expected. Apologies, had to coax that out of her.”

Playing with fire, you thought, figuring that was exactly what he wanted. You wondered if you’d get a better taste of him at some point.

With a stethoscope — because he took his role very seriously — he checked your heartbeat and your breathing, both of which seemed to quicken a little at his nearness.

“No need to be nervous,” he said reassuringly, but his smile told you he was very much enjoying making you feel that way.

The end of the stethoscope was cold against your flesh, which made you shudder a little. Your nipples hardened, too, which was a detail he did not miss.

A soft, pleasured hum escaped you as his fingers grazed the skin right under your breasts, his touch not entirely clinically detached.

“Quiet, now. Let the doctor do his work,” Will chastised.

For his part, Hannibal inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Someone’s in heat,” he noted, sharing a look with Will. “I could take care of it, if you like.”

Will’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Hmm, that explains why she’s been humping my leg. But is it necessary?”

“You wouldn’t want to leave her unattended, would you?”

You tried not to let a traitorous blush spread across your cheeks at Will’s analyzing gaze, dipping your chin slightly in confirmation.

“I might just have to check your temperature, too,” Hannibal added, tilting his head to one side. “Could I have you bend over the couch, please?”

Will nodded towards it, and off you went, kneeling on the armrest and placing your hands on the cushion. 

You kept still as the doctor approached with slow, easy steps. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before dipping lower, to the source of your ache.

Will sat beside your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. He watched you shoot Hannibal a frustrated look as he teased you, fingers gliding up your slit. He gripped your chin just as you bared your teeth, wanting to bite once more.

Then, you swallowed back a low whine as he easily sank his middle finger into you. You heard his huff of amusement as you pushed your hips back needily.

“Running a little hot…” Hannibal mused. “We’ve got to remedy that, don’t we?”

You shot him another look, pleading this time. Your pupils were blown wide with desire, almost swallowing your irises, and your breaths came out long and slow.

You gripped one of Will’s arms, urging him towards you, desperate to touch him as well.

“Think you deserve a treat?” He murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Go on, earn it.”

Will scooted closer, your head now on his lap. You breathed in his familiar scent, and you licked his crotch through the thin fabric of his boxers.

Hannibal chuckled. “Oh, but she’s being so good…”

Will glanced up at him. “Hmm, she’s been showing off a little for you. Can’t let that become a habit.”

Hannibal’s hand retreated, and a complaint was starting to form in your throat when you heard the metallic clink of his belt, followed by the rasp of his zipper being pulled down. 

You also heard a wet pop as he sucked your arousal off his finger, loving the taste of you. Oh, he’d definitely need to try it directly from the source, too. 

“Not to worry, we’ll take good care of her,” he purred, bending closer to your ear. “Just needed some extra attention is all, didn’t you?” 

You nodded, spreading your knees further apart. Will’s hand rested on your head as you continued to lap at him. You felt him hardening against your insistent tongue, lips tracing the outline of his shaft. The smell and the heat of him were making you delirious with lust, driving any sort of coherency out the window.

Behind you, Hannibal spread you open with both hands in order to get a better look at his next meal. He knelt, pushing his slacks down and gripping himself. 

His hot breath blew against your soaked core for a mere second before he licked you clit to ass in one long, languid stripe. His expert tongue then dipped into the deep well of your cunt, and you felt the vibration of his groan.

He stroked himself as he continued his ministrations, closing his eyes as all his other senses were invaded by you.

You let out a choked whine, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed your cheek against Will’s growing bulge. He had you lift your head as he shifted his hips, pulling off his boxers and finally letting you get your reward. 

You practically melted at the taste of him as you took him into your mouth — musky and slightly salty. You knew the exact way he liked to be tended to, guiding yourself by the sounds he made.

You moaned around him, and he gathered your hair in his fist, keeping it away from your face. He kept your head down for a moment when he was all the way down your throat, and you breathed slowly through your nose. 

“There we go,” Will sighed, petting your head. “That’s it.”

Your mind went blank for a moment as Hannibal lapped up all your arousal with gusto. Will let you come up for air, gently pulling you up by the hair to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss. 

Before your head descended once more, you looked at him, glassy-eyed and smiling beatifically. The same adoration was mirrored in his eyes as he tenderly ran the back of his finger down your cheek.

“Atta girl, taking it all so well,” Hannibal praised, standing up. “I think you’re ready for me.”

He slowly eased into you, letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. You sucked in a breath, adjusting to the delicious stretch. Instinctually, you moved against him, seeking much more friction than he was currently providing.

“Don’t have to do… much of the work myself,” He grunted, grabbing your hips in a half-attempt to slow you down. “So very eager, this one.”

“Loves to please. Everything she gets, she earns,” Will said proudly. “Makes it so much better, doesn’t it?”

“Well trained indeed.”

At such an angle, you could feel Hannibal reaching impossibly deep, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull. You moaned against Will’s skin, teeth digging lightly into his inner thigh. 

As bad as you might want it, you knew he wouldn’t let you make him come with your mouth. He was next in line after Hannibal, and he intended to leave a lasting impression. That wasn’t to say he didn’t want you to keep touching him, though. 

Hannibal’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, in which he chased his release. You were already clenching him hard, close to the edge yourself. Then one of his hands reached between your legs, rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles.

Heat spread throughout you like wildfire, all-consuming. You reached back to grip one of his forearms, unsure if it was a plead for mercy or for him to never stop. It didn’t take long for you to come undone, mouth slack in pleasure as you moaned wantonly, melting into the heady feeling of them both.

Soon after, Hannibal’s hips stuttered, and then they stopped when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You could feel him pulsate as he was gripped in his own euphoria, branding you much like Will had done countless times before. 

Once more, Will kissed you, murmuring a soft good girl against your lips. Hannibal pulled out of you, panting as he bent forward to plant a kiss on your spine. 

“I think she can give us another one,” he said. “In fact, I highly recommend it.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Doctor’s orders.”

He moved you onto the couch cushions as they switched places. Hannibal presented himself before you, leaning back with a lupine sort of smirk.

Will’s thrusts were swift and savage as you licked Hannibal clean. It was only polite to tend to the doctor after being so very helpful. Your tongue was especially enthusiastic as you neared your second orgasm. 

His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to bruise. By his more unrestrained sounds, you could tell he was right there with you. When he came, his body slumped forward, chest flush against your back.

His hot breath was against your neck as he pressed himself tighter against you. He was still buried to the hilt, making sure no drop was wasted.

When he unsheathed himself from you, you collapsed onto the couch, body spread between the two of them. You felt boneless and utterly sated, swimming in dopamine.

“Good job. That should hold you for some time, hmm?” Hannibal said, looking down at you resting on his lap.

Will huffed in amusement, caressing your legs. “You’ll find she’s quite insatiable.”

The two shared a look, all too happy to shoulder the so-called burden of your constant hunger.

“You should’ve just said you missed me, Doctor Lecter,” you said with a teasing grin. “Could’ve saved us the theatrics.”

He smirked. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”

----------

[iicehoon]

LEVEL UP | STREAMER!SOOBIN X READER

︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

"NO NO NO NO," you heard your boyfriend, Soobin, yell in despair.

Glancing at the Snoopy-themed clock, it read 2:30 AM, marking five hours since he started streaming. You recalled his excitement about being sponsored by the game, hoping for future offers if it goes well.

Rising from your spot on the shared bed, you crossed the dimly lit hall to quietly open the door to his room. He remained intensely focused on the screen, the soft clicks of his mechanical keyboard echoing as you entered. Frustrated sighs followed each demise of his character on screen.

"Chat, you don't understand," he started, setting aside his keyboard and mouse. "No username, I am not taking backseat gaming or any advice from you. The last time I did that, it made me restart the ENTIRE game."

You chuckled softly, watching your boyfriend ruffle his hair in frustration. His slouched shoulders hinted that he was nearing his breaking point and pretty ready to end the stream.

"Binnie," you called out, settling into the beanbag adjacent to his desk.

Soobin perked up instantly at the sound of his name, swiftly removing his earbuds as he rose to approach you. "When did you come in?" he asked, crouching down to your level. Leaning in, he planted a kiss on your lips before gently settling on top of you, eliciting a surprised yelp at his sudden weight.

"You've been at it for five hours, hun," you said, poking his side playfully until he squirmed and finally got up after the tenth poke.

"Come here, and I'll show you why," he motioned you over, patting his lap. His followers knew about you because he couldn't help but talk about you at times, and they have seen your face from the times you brought him snacks or a drink during his streams.

"Hi Chat," You smiled, bringing your face closer to his webcam and giving them a little wave when you settled on his lap.

"Okay," Soobin placed his chin on your shoulder and returned his hands to the keyboard and mouse. "Just watch and see why I just can't get past this stupid level."

You weren't as big of a gamer as Soobin, but you knew your way around from the games he played or even those you tried yourself from the days when he didn't want to be at his computer.

One of the perks of having a gamer boyfriend who was also a popular streamer was having access to his Steam account and his credits to buy games that piqued your interest, often discovered from TikTok.

Your eyes analyzed his movements, and you couldn't help but giggle when he dropped his head, hitting the back of your neck. "I don't understand why it's not working," he sighed in frustration.

"Well, it's because you're not hitting that when you're doing your runs," you explained, gently removing his hands from the setup in front of you. Slowly, you moved his character over to what you believed was the key element for him to pass this level. "See, it's breakable with that TNT sign on it."

You restarted the level and began to execute your run. As you played, Soobin's eyes moved back and forth between his main screen and your side profile, a lovestruck smile spreading across his face, just as his chat had claimed always happened whenever you were in his peripheral vision.

His smile widened as you cheered, successfully passing the level he had spent the majority of his time on. "Wait, babe, you're crazy good," he exclaimed, his jaw-dropping in amazement at the winning transition.

"I'm just better than you, Soobie boobie" you teased, twisting slightly to face him and sticking out your tongue.

He shook his head, laughing, and wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, giving you a quick peck on your cheek.

His joyful expression quickly shifted to one of furrowed eyebrows as he read his chat.

"Chat, she IS NOT replacing me," he groaned, "And stop asking if she's single. I'll literally make out with her right here, right now."

an | there is no specific game I'm referencing, I couldn't really think of one but if anyone has an idea, I can make it for another one!

[oceantornadoo]

his favorite patient (simon riley x f!reader)

part 5 of the two lieutenants series...toothrotting fluff

--

"where is she?"

ghost thundered into the base hospital, all teeth and claws. the hospital staff scattered in his wake, avoiding eye contact. finally, a doctor approached, looking down at her clipboard nervously. "who are you looking for, sir?" he tried not to antagonize medical staff, but someone needed to get it together. "the lieutenant." he spit out. "right this way, sir."

the doctor pushed through the door to your hospital room, the sterile breeze drifting through ghost's mask. the doctor moved out of the way so he finally could view you.

you, who had taken two bullets to your left arm and yet still managed to complete the mission. had dragged gaz out with you, who was recovering in the room next to you. you were asleep, brows furrowed even in your sleep. he drowned out the words of the doctor, opting instead to move closer to your bed. "she's alrigh'?" ghost mumured, almost to himself. "she'll need some PT to regain range of motion, but she'll be okay, sir. she's just taking some much needed rest." he nodded his thanks, and the doctor made her way out, smiling to herself as she closed the door.

ghost took off his balaclava, setting it on the table behind him. he took a seat on your bed, dwarfing the small bed with his frame. he smoothed out the furrow between your brows, his gloves long forgotten back on base, abandoned the moment he heard you were in the hospital. "s'pposed to be end game, yeah? can't get shot on me now." his thumb traced the slope of your nose, trailing to your lips, down to your jaw. "my brave dove." his thumb traveled to your collarbone, brushing back and forth. he lost sense of time, entranced in the feel of your skin, the softness against his battle worn skin. almost half an hour had passed until...

"simon?" you croaked out, throat parched. "yeah, baby? feel ok?" he was so enamored with you, all doe eyes staring back at him. ghost was gone, the bloody work done, and simon was here to stay. you nodded slowly, still recovering from the events of the past days. "thirsty." he was up immediately, looking for water. he found a water cup a nurse had dropped off earlier, so deep in his trance he hadn't seen her come in and out. "go'on." he offered you the straw and you sipped, trying to go slow. he watched your throat move up and down with every sip. "better?" you hummed your appreciation. "you don't have any recruits to bother?" he gave you a sideways grin, one of his rarities. "you're more important."

you're more important. simon was here, sitting vigil at your bedside. he shirked his duties just for you. "why are you here, si?" he clicked his teeth, breaking eye contact for the first time he'd been in the room. simon stared at the clock, stared out the window. "ya don't get it, do ya?" he turned back to stare at you. you shook your head, brows furrowing again. his thumb jumped out and smoothed it before even realizing. "i haven't taken you out on that date yet, but y'r it for me. i'm y'r lieutenant, yeah?" you reached your uninjured hand towards him and he leaned in, letting you cup his face. "its all or nothing for you, isn't it?" he nodded. "hav' to be in our line of work." you gave him a small smile. "what is this, a proposal, riley?" you brushed his thumb over his lips. "let me know when your left hand is healed for a ring, baby." you laughed and it was the sweetest sound in the world to him. "my answer is yes. and a maybe to the proposal. you're on a trial period." he nodded again, nuzzling into your hand. "jus' let me take care of you, yeah?" you nodded, falling back into your hospital bed. "now i can sleep." he kissed your forehead, and all was right in the world again.

--

ugh i want a boyfriend

[onlyswan]

summary: in which your period cramps bring you to tears but jungkook’s gentle hand is warm.

> fluff / wc: 2k

> warnings: boob massage !!, mention of sex, mention of period blood

note: a little sumnsumn for the physical intimacy of it all <3 and my fellow period havers who get unbearable period cramps and sore boobies </3 and before u ask - yes, i’ve been listening to joon’s closer on repeat a lot. like a lot. and it makes me devastatingly emotional. + feedback is always appreciated :DD

—

your head accidentally bumping against jungkook’s shoulder as you curl up in pain is what ultimately wakes him up. out of habit, his blurry eyes gloss over at the time displayed on the digital clock. 3:14am.

he cups your face in concern, which is visibly stricken with agony. two of his longest fingers brush back the strands of hair that fell over your eyes, and they flutter upon shortly after. his lips curve into a frown when he notices your eyelashes that kissed your cheeks goodbye are wet from unshed tears. you fell asleep at 9pm earlier, and he thought you’d feel better when you wake up in the morning, but he turned out to be wrong. your period cramps seem to be particularly bad this month, adding up to the fact that it arrived two weeks early.

“want a massage, baby?”

his deep morning voice sends a shiver running through your spine, and you quickly try to cover it up with a whine. “yes, please.”

he grabs the lavender essential oil from the first drawer of the nightstand beside him, and his hand already turns slippery from barely holding the bottle. you force yourself to lie down on your back, allowing your boyfriend to apply three pumps of the oil on your stomach. he pulls your shirt back down to shield you from the airconditioner before lowering the waistband of your shorts to reach your lower abdomen. he lathers the oil across your soft skin, hoping to ease the tension of the muscles beneath it.

“your hand is so warm.” you mumble with a shaky sigh, at last finding the inexplicable relief you desperately needed. the hot compress that has gone cold too quickly beside you would hang its head in shame if only it could hear. “you’re a godsend. thank you.”

he hums in response, inching closer to give your temple a kiss. his tender rubbing gradually turns into adept kneading, mindful of exerting just the right amount of pressure so he won’t cause you any more pain. next thing you know, he’s lying on his side and using your arm as a pillow as he peppers kisses along the expanse of your jaw and neck.

with your eyelids fluttering open and shut from drowsiness, you lazily grasp jungkook’s wrist to guide his hand higher on your torso. “it’s sore here, too.”

he grazes the swell of your right breast with a feather-light touch. “where?”

“there . . . there. hurts.” you whimper weakly when he applies a little pressure on the side near your armpit, unconsciously digging your nails on his forearm. you despise how your eyes are watering again, and you’re not even sure if it’s because of the pain or simply put, jungkook’s existence. “and under it.”

with courteous gentleness, his four fingers dance across your skin in repetitive movements. he creates circular motions from under your breast to the side, and then he makes his way back to where he started to do it all over again.

“does this feel okay?”

the scent of lavender and your boyfriend’s affectionate ministrations carry you to slumber’s glittering gates, but his voice nudges you away before you can take a step inside the land.

“huh?” you whisper tiredly.

he snickers with his eyes closed. “i asked if this feels okay. are you getting sleepy again?”

his heavenly therapeutic massage doesn’t cease. his thumb brushes against your nipple every now and then, which is why it’s unsurprising to feel it perk up and harden under his touch. he continues with following the loop he made, determined to shoo away the soreness that’s causing his lover to tear up and sniffle in pain.

“so nice. i’m falling asleep soon.” your fingers thread through his dark hair, loosely hugging him to your chest as you drown yourself in the scent of his shampoo.

“does the other one hurt too?”

his innocent question makes you chuckle. this causes your body to vibrate and to trigger the sharp pain shooting up on your sides. holy fucking shit, that hurts. hormones are a bitch.

“yes, but not as much.”

jungkook fights off sleep as he alternates between massaging your lower abdomen and chest. your skin gradually dries up as it absorbs the essential oil, but he doesn’t take this as a signal to stop at all. he keeps going anyway. as sleepiness clouds his mind, however, he impulsively cups your breast in his hand and allows himself a firm squeeze. the two of you knew it was inevitable, really, because it’s obviously a reflex for him at this point. and yet, your breath still gets heavier, as if this is the first time you’ve been touched by him.

“you’re so squishy. want to stay like this forever.” he mumbles almost incoherently. he gives the soft flesh another squeeze, and another, and another, before pressing his fingers on the side to carry on with his massage.

“you know, i’m starting to think you really mean that.” you recount all the other times he hazily uttered the same words while holding your boobs and/or nuzzling his face against them during non-sexual encounters simply because he finds them, in his own words, so comforting. one of these days you ought to ask: does he have the same affinity for them as you do for his doe eyes?

well, not that you mind. clearly, you get more privileges from it than you originally thought.

“mhmm, guilty as charged.” he replies with a toothy grin.

he pulls you closer by the curve of your waist as if your bodies could possibly get any closer than this, but he stubbornly insists and he painfully yearns. lost in a haze— he wants to get under your skin, let his pounding heart cross the distance and meet yours like two penpals throwing caution to the wind. however, your hearts are prisoners to your vessels.

isn’t this the reason we have sex? make love? to be as close as humanly possible? more than what they call an instinct, honestly speaking, is it not an enigmatic ache? a greedy appetite for love?

maybe that’s also why jungkook refuses to stop stealing kisses from your lips despite uncontrollable giggles racking the both of you. he holds himself up on top of you, planting his hands on the mattress. teeth accidentally knocking once, lips landing on the corners of your mouth, the air becomes warmer but he refuses to let go of the moment when he finally aims right. maybe that’s why he still chases after you despite getting reluctantly pushed away, feeling like he just won the nine-digit prize at the lottery when he gets rewarded with one final peck. it’s as if to say i don’t want to be a stranger. i don’t want to forget. let me mold the memory of the shape of your lips onto mine.

“your hair kept tickling my ear.” you tilt your head to the side to escape, gasping for air.

his playful giggles continue to fill the dark hours’ ringing silence, relentlessly moving closer to snuggle with you again. the scent of lavender has hung to the fabric of your shirt, and it soothes him to sleep like a lullaby.

“you made all the blood gush out. i hate you. need to go change before i stain the sheets.”

the loss of your warmth causes him to muffle a groan against your pillow, his hand holding on to yours until the hook of his pinky finger slips away from your thumb. he hears the walk-in closet open and close, and then the same with the bathroom door. the sound of water running from the shower serves as white noise as he loses the battle against the angel of slumber.

feeling refreshed after a quick warm shower, you go back to bed with your pain finally cranked down to a bearable level. however, the sight of your sleeping boyfriend snoring with his mouth slightly open makes you click your tongue with a laugh. the stubborn man somehow always ends up using your pillow, or you as a pillow. with a silent grunt, you carefully carry and drop his upper body to his side of the bed, followed by his long legs. you adjust his head on his special pillow to keep it elevated just enough, so he won’t complain about a sore neck in the morning.

the snoring stops briefly, and then comes back softer this time around. well, that’s good enough.

—

jungkook jolts awake at the sound of his 5am alarm, rushing to turn off the phone tucked under the side of his pillow so it won’t disturb you. as he stretches out his limbs, he rubs away the remaining sleep in his eyes to look at your sleeping figure properly. you’re facing him with your hand curled up around his tattooed forearm. your phone is propped up against your pillow, still faintly playing the ghibli film ‘princess mononoke’. he takes it with him when he soundlessly climbs off the bed. he leaves it turned off on top of the nightstand beside you before stumbling inside the bathroom.

he sleepily stands infront of the mirror as he brushes his teeth, tucking his hair behind his ear to observe the lines that formed on his face, the most probable cause being that he slept on his side again. with his exhausted eyes closed, he starts massaging his cheek with the heel of his palm to increase the circulation of blood and oxygen, which will make the lines fade away quicker. he still smells the traces of lavender from not too long ago. he splashes his face with water, and they get washed away and replaced by the smell of his face cleanser.

it’s already past 6am when he deems himself prepared to leave for work. he turns off the stove and refills your hot compress with the water he heated up, softly singing the words to ‘dynamite’ as he does so. he runs through the choreography inside his head, making small lazy movements, just to keep his body familiar with the dance moves.

with his backpack swung over his shoulder, he goes back inside the bedroom to bid you goodbye. you tossed and turned in the empty queen-sized bed while he was gone, and you’re already lying on your back with your shirt riding up above your belly button.

“aigoo, aigoo! you’re a messy sleeper, i’m a heavy sleeper. we really belong together.” he converses with himself as he pulls your shirt down and places the hot compress over your lower abdomen.

you attempt to turn to your side again but he holds you back, putting your hand on top of the hot compress to keep it pressed against you.

“hey- hey, baby. i’m off to work now.”

you only hum in response, raising your arms to reach for him. he instantly bends down into your embrace, pressing his lips to your forehead for a kiss that lasts a little longer than usual. “mmmm-mwah!”

“can’t- open my eyes. i bought new face masks yesterday. are you wearing it?” you mumble. “the other brand’s strings are too fragile. i fucking broke five of them. don’t wear those anymore.”

he chuckles at the way your voice gets louder while saying the curse word then drops back down to quiet mumbling right after. it’s sickening how being in love makes him fawn over the smallest details about you.

“yup. found them in the living room.” his thumb brushes against your cheek lovingly. “take it easy working today, okay? i love you.”

you nod your head repeatedly. he doesn’t understand the slurred words that manage to escape your mouth after that, and perhaps, he doesn’t need to. he knows that you love him too.

—

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[destinationtrekk]

daybreak

Even a hardened Captain needs a break sometimes.

1.1k, S.T.A.R.S reader, set pre-RE1, cursing, that thing where guys put their head against your stomach for comfort <3

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3

-> masterlist

-> daybreak on ao3

7:06 a.m. 

Come to my office when you clock in. We need to talk. 

You heaved a sigh and let your phone in your hand fall to your side. Fuck. Your head dropped back and you let your eyes slip shut. Of all the things that could make your day any worse, this was it. You had woken up late, missing your alarm because your phone was dead, and then barely got dressed in time to stop for coffee. The barista recognized you, and told you they were out of your order with a sympathetic smile before you could even ask. You had settled for a flavorless black coffee, hoping the bitterness would kick start your morning - only to spill it on your floorboard as you nearly rear-ended someone else's cruiser in the parking lot. After finally making it to your desk, less than ten minutes late, thank you, your exclusive-not-boyfriend Captain texted you, absolutely solidifying your awful morning. 

You slumped in your chair, looking back to your desktop as it started up. You could easily tell him you just hadn’t seen his message, too wrapped up in rushing to work and catching up with the endless reports stacked on your desk, but he wouldn’t buy it. Wesker kept meticulous records of nearly everything at the station, including how many reports he expected from each agent. While you had plenty of paperwork to catch up on, you knew as well as him that nothing was so pressing you could justify ignoring him. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to see him - quite the opposite, really. In the month or so since you had started this… thing with him, you found yourself craving his touch more and more each day. You hadn’t really had sex yet, per se, but each late night at the station you spent alone with him got closer and closer to thoroughly tarnishing any sense of professionalism you had left, not that much was left anyway. You risked a glance to his office, the door cracked open, and your mind flooded with images of him. His sly smirk, his rumbling voice, his warm breath brushing the skin of your neck. You looked down and re-read his message, clenching your jaw and sighing again. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, excited for his attention even now, you knew this talk couldn’t be good. 

You waited a few more minutes, mindlessly shuffling papers around to look busy, until you finally summoned the courage to speak to him. You didn’t bother knocking, just slipping through his office door to stand stiffly in front of his desk. He was slouched in his chair, eyes lazily focused on his computer monitors with his sunglasses in his hand, one arm of them balanced on his lip. He rarely took them off, and you were relieved to see his expression openly. He didn’t look annoyed or pissed off, but that didn’t mean he was happy with you. 

“Took you long enough,” he murmured, finally acknowledging your awkward stance in front of him. He looked up at you, his sharp blue eyes roaming your figure before he motioned vaguely to the door. “Lock it, and close the blinds.” 

You couldn’t help the twitch of your lips as you followed his orders, coming back to stand in front of his desk when you finished. He seemed to slump further into his chair as he heard the lock click into place, tossing his glasses on his desk to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Come here.” 

Your brow furrowed when you approached him, leaning one hip on his desk and looking down at him. His shoulders were tense, and you risked placing a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “You okay?” 

He took a moment to answer, but finally sat back and looked up at you. His expression was blank as always, but you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. “Long night.” 

You tilted your head and smiled in sympathy. “Thought you were bringing me in here to yell at me for something.” You consider him carefully for a moment. “Do you want to… talk?” 

He chuckled lightly, and reached up to grip your waist, his warm palm spreading wide against your thin uniform shirt. “No,” his voice was a mere rumble in the silent office. “I just…” 

He seemed to struggle, his body still tense. Even alone with you, he was rarely what you could call sweet . Gentle, yes, amused and kind, sometimes, if he was having a good day. But never hesitant, or lost for words like he was now. 

“I know.” You whispered, a hand coming up to pet his hair. You were careful to not ruffle the perfectly gelled style, and your heart clenched when he actually leaned into your touch. He pushed his chair back a bit, pulling you to stand between his spread legs. He gripped your waist with both hands now, broad palms encasing your body and sliding down, down, down until they rested on the backs of your thighs. Your hands were on his shoulder and cupping the back of his head, and without warning he leaned into your body, his forehead pressed into your stomach and arms wrapping loosely around your thighs. 

You froze for a moment, not expecting this physical display of vulnerability from him. You shook yourself out of it though, quickly sliding a hand down his back and letting your fingers bury in his hair, keeping him pressed against you. You rubbed random circles on his back, slipping your fingers beneath his shoulder holster to scratch lightly with your nails. You knew as well as anyone that the tight leather could be irritating after a long day. 

He groaned softly, the sound barely more than a hot puff of air against your stomach. One of his arms came sliding back up your thigh, brushing over your backside to spread his hand on your lower back. He gently pulled you closer, until his face was buried against you so tight you weren’t sure he could breathe. 

You huffed a laugh, and scratched your nails along his scalp. You spent a long moment with him like that, his breath warm against your stomach while you mindlessly rubbed his back and hair. Eventually, all too soon, he pulled back, pressing one lingering kiss to your hip before sitting back in his chair. His face was flush as he avoided your gaze, clearing his throat as you stepped away. You softly flattened his hair back to it’s previous perfect style and gave him a gentle smile. 

He looked up at you, eyes soft and brow furrowed. His voice was a rumble when he thanked you, hoarse like he could barely muster the air to speak. When you turned back to face him before you left, his expression was already hardened over again, sunglasses halfway to his face. His lips twitched in a smile one last time, and then he was back to work. 

You may not get to keep him, but at least you had this.

[frost-queen]

To be truthful (Reader x Enoch O'Connor)

Requested by: anon Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Emma was finishing setting up the table with Fiona. Holding some of the plates, she tilted her head to look into the hallway. – “Didn’t I call for diner a minute ago?” – Emma said out loud, turning around to look at Fiona for confirmation. Fiona shrugged her shoulders, placing a bowl with fresh cut carrots on the table.

“Should I call again? Miss Peregrine insists upon punctuality.” – Emma rambled on, getting nervous that no one was coming through the door. Setting the plates down on the table she had made up her decision. – “I’m calling them!” – she made clear, holding her hands to her hip.

“You’ve just called.” – Fiona answered with a roll of her eyes. Emma was about to shout when Hugh and Claire came running in. Almost running Emma over with their game of tag. Fiona jumped in front of them to stop them before they would bump against the counter.

With her calm hands, she brought them to a stop. Both were panting loud. Fiona simply had to point at Emma then at the table for them to understand. Horace and Millard entered a moment later. Horace chattering loudly as he blindly went to his seat.

Olive and Enoch joined as well. Olive having a soft smile on her lips. They both went to their seats at the table. Emma looked into the hallway with a worried look. – “Where is Y/n?” – she asked. – “Didn’t you call her?” – Emma turned to Olive and Enoch. Enoch sat down, pulling his shoulders up.

“Do I look like her babysitter?” – he answered rudely. Olive gave him a little glare to not be so negative from across the table. Emma’s gaze fixed on the clock, knowing Miss Peregrine would arrive any moment for diner. It made her panic that you still weren’t here.

Enoch jumped out of his skin, startled as he gripped the edges of his chair with a tight grip once you had popped up behind him. – “Bloody hell Y/n!” – he cursed out that you had scared him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, coming to lean over his shoulder.

“Did I startle you Enoch?” – you asked sweetly as he pushed your grip off him. Groaning in annoyance. – “Good of you to join us Y/n.” – Miss Peregrine said entering the room. You quickly went to your seat right across from Emma. – “Good day Miss Peregrine.” – you all called out in unison as she went to sit at the head of the table.

“Fiona splendid work with the vegetables.” – she complimented. Fiona smiled sheepishly, leaning back in her seat rather bashful. – “Now shall we eat.” – she unfolded her napkin to lay it on her lap. The moment was set as everyone got in motion. Reaching for food, chatting and laughing away. From at the other head of the table, you noticed Enoch staring at you or rather glaring at you.

You moved a bit forwards so he could see your face fully. You returned his glare with a sweet smile. Enoch only narrowed his eyes more, swallowing hard. Olive gave him a nudge. – “Stop glaring.” – she whispered to him. Enoch exhaled soft, turning his head away. – “It’s okay Olive. I know Enoch means well.” – you told her with another smile.

Enoch clenched his jaw, trying not to freak out about that. – “Don’t make assumptions for me!” – Enoch replied. – “Why do you dislike Y/n so much?” – Horace questioned as everyone adored you. Enoch leaned a bit forwards. – “Stay out of it.” – he shout-whispered. Miss Peregrine observed from afar. When you turned your head, you caught up with her gaze. With a soft smile, she winked at you.

After diner, the youngest ones were free to play, while the older ones were left to clean the table. You started collecting plates, stacking them on each other. Emma stood by the sink, letting water down to start the dishes. You popped up beside her, giving her a soft fright. – “Goodness Y/n.” – Emma blurted out, one hand on her heart. – “Can’t you just walk. The table is right there.” – she pointed out at how close it was.

It would only take one a few steps to reach her. Yet you chose to teleport yourself beside her. – “Y/n likes to be special.” – Enoch mocked holding a few glasses. You teleported away from Emma, appearing behind Enoch. – “I like teleporting.” – you told him as he had jumped back. With a loud groan he handed the glasses over to Olive.

You started collecting the cutlery. – “Y/n.” – Emma said daringly with a warning finger to not pop up behind her. You puffed soft. – “You are no fun.” – you mumbled, walking up to her instead of teleporting. – “Satisfied?” – you asked dropping the cutlery in the sink. – “Very.” – Emma responded, patting you on the head.  – “Now help me.” – Emma took a towel, laying it on your head, having a laugh at it. You pulled it down.

Giving her a nudge with your hip against her to make some room. Emma started washing the dishes as you dried them. Olive and Enoch putting away the left overs into the fridge. Whilst Enoch was working, he couldn’t help himself but admire you. Gaze upon you and watch what you were doing. Olive noticed it, giving him a little nudge in the side.  – “You are staring.” – she whispered in his ear. – “I am not.” – Enoch grunted out.

He quickly averted his gaze, yet he kept being drawn to you. Emma and you were chatting whilst finished the dishes. Olive joined the two of you, putting the dishes away. Enoch cleaning the table. After cleaning, you immediately popped away. Emma shrugged her shoulders, leaving the room to head outside. Enoch left as well with Olive right behind him. – “Are you going to play with your dolls?” – she asked, holding her hands behind her back.

“Maybe.” – he responded, looking over his shoulder to her. A part of him wondered where you were. With a soft sigh, he went upstairs with Olive. Pausing almost at the top of the stairs, he saw you walk across the hallway to your room. There you were. Olive poked him in the back to move. Enoch got in motion, heading for his room as he couldn’t help himself but glance at your door. Olive noticed it, stopping to knock on your door. – “What are you doing?” – Enoch panicked.

“Asking if Y/n wants to join. Don’t you want that?” – she said having a sense of his feelings towards you. It had become clear to her for a while now that his act of dislike towards you was just a charade. A façade to hide behind. Enoch tugged his hands in his pocket, looking away. Olive knocked again as you hadn’t opened the door yet. Grabbing the handle, she opened the door. – “Y/n?” – she asked softly, popping her head inside.

To her surprise your room was empty. – “Must have teleported out.” – Olive let out, closing the door once more. With a smile, she returned to an almost sweating Enoch. – “Now you mustn’t worry. She’s not here.” – she teased, patting him against his shoulder. They entered his room as Enoch went to sit. A doll in front of him on the table. Olive picked up one of his tools, already presenting it to him.

“Thank you.” – he said accepting the tool. He started working on the doll. – “Enoch.” – Olive started, hearing him hum loud. – “You like watching Y/n do you not?” – she asked as he nearly had a heartache. With wide eyes, he dropped his tool. In shock turning round in his chair to her. – “What?” – he called out. Olive giggled amusingly. – “I’ve noticed you watch Y/n a lot from afar.” – she explained. Enoch puffed loud. – “I do not.” – he replied turning back to his doll.

“It’s alright Enoch, you mustn’t be frightened of it.” – Olive went on handing him another tool. – “Of what?” – Enoch answered bitsy. – “Of having feelings for Y/n.” – Olive finished. Enoch’s hand slipped as he broke a piece off the dolls porcelain chest. He turned around getting up. – “I do not have feelings for Y/n!” – he shouted as Olive was unimpressed. – “Enoch, just admit it. Why are you even scared to admit it?” – she asked. – “I don’t have anything to admit as it isn’t true!” – he made clear with a glare.

“Liar!” – Olive shouted back, having enough of him lying to himself. – “You like Y/n and you are too afraid to admit it.” – she started, poking him in the chest. – “So you better stop being so scared and let yourself love her!” – Enoch fell back in his chair with her sturdy poking in his chest. Speechless, he stared at her. He had never seen her speak so loudly or react so vibrant. – “So Enoch O’Connor, you are going outside, find Y/n and be nicer to her as a beginning.” – she ordered him, pointing firm at the door.

Enoch shook his head, not wanting to do it. Olive removed a glove, showing her hand that caught fire to him. – “Don’t make me burn your puppets.” – she threatened. Enoch stumbled out of the chair, sweating with shock as he rushed downstairs to do as he was told. Too afraid Olive might actually burn his puppets or himself for the matter if he didn’t act upon his feelings. Olive sniffed out the fire, having a satisfying smile on her face.

------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

eddies never considered himself lucky, not with anything, not with girls not with guys not with his family not with anything.

not when his dad beat him and his mom to a pulp and walked out only to come back 2 years later with bloodshot eyes , red nostrils and a baby on his hip.

not when harley jones asked him on a date only to take his virginity in the back of his van and never talk to him again.

not when billy hargrove asked him to do his homework and he purposely wrote an essay on his behalf about how much he hated mrs. o’donell.

not when you showed up on his doorstep , asking him out on a date and he declined thinking he was some butt of a joke , making you walk home in the rain after walking an hour as a grand gesture for him in your cheer uniform carrying droopy flowers you had picked for him.

eddie wasn’t lucky not at all.

the clock on eddies side table reads 7:00 am in bright blaring numbers. eddies rubs his eyes to rid himself of sleepies and sits up , throwing on his favorite garfield boxers and an old ratted metallica shirt.

the knocking on his trailer grows rapid hence why hes up so early.

“i’m comin , i’m comin fuck hold on” he yells

throwing the door open eddies jaw drops , you’re the last person he expected at the door , if he knew it was you he would have made himself presentable.

you look so pretty , clad in your cheer uniform, rain droplets dripping off your eyelashes , knee high socks he can only assume are doing nothing to keep you warm. a pony tail holding your curled hair and flowers he can only assume you just picked from the side of the road , he can tell because he picks those for his mommas grave , purples amongst yellows amongst pinks and oranges, shining brightly in contrast to the gray sky.

“he-heyy what the fuck are you doing here?”

is the first thing that slips out of his mouth , your eyes blow wide.

“no no i didnt mean it like that i’m just shocked you’re here , did you walk here ? at 7 in the morning? in the rain?” he rambles “yeah i did , is that okay?” you ask , hesitance heavy in your voice “more than okay sweetheart, why are you here?” his voice filled with sweetness , making you hopeful of his answer to your question.

“i just wanted to know if you’d wanna go on a date with me , we can watch a movie , i know they’re showing some horror movies , i planned it out, i’ll pay for your ticket , i uh also thought we could get burgers and shakes at bennys , hes my uncle i’ll convince him to give the meal to us for free , he usually does he has a soft spot for me, i see you around alot , i think you’re handsome , i know my brother loves you and i know theres gotta be lots of reasons why” your head starts bopping , excitement laced in your voice. awaiting his answer.

eddies heart plummets to his feet , he wanted to believe this , to be hopeful that this wasn’t some cruel joke but he can’t not after holly. he cant help but roll his eyes.

you catch it , smile and arms dropping , your nails pressing into your hand where you’re holding the flowers you picked for him.

“why the fuck are you here y/n ?” the sweetness from his voice long gone , replaced with bitterness and venom “i-i just told you why eddie what do you mean” your voice trembles “no the real fucking reason , i don’t want you to stand there and lie to me what the fuck y/n i thought you were different but you’re just like them , you will not make a joke out of me , thats a dick move, go home. my answer is no , tell your friends that this didn’t work and maybe go prank someone else” he slams the door shut , palms opening and closing , sweating, he wants to look out, see the angry look on your face when you realize your plan didn’t work, instead hes faced with something much worse.

the flowers that once stood high we’re drooping in your hand , your back shaking hard with despair and a distraught look on your face as rock your head in a back and forth no motion tears dripping down your face , one hand pressed to your chest he can assume for comfort and the other holding waynes wrist where hes cupping your face lightly, cooing at you as you recount what just aspired to him, his heart burns with pain when he sees waynes eyes tearing up aswell. both of you soaked with rainwater.

he watches as you calm down , watches as wayne grabs a jacket from his car and covers your shaking frame with it , watches as wayne drops a kiss on your forehead and lets you walk away. watches as you walk further down the road disappearing from his sight. watches as wayne stomps to the door. but hes too afraid to go out and speak to you , too afraid to apologize because he already fucked up.

“what is wrong with you boy? i know i raised you , why you actin like ya father ? making a girl cry and having her walk home in the rain, you find out a way to apologize, i don’t care that ya think she pranked ya , she and her brother been coming here every morning asking for you , she built up the courage to ask you out and you turn her down so easily, fix this, don’t make me tell you again.” wayne tells eddie , wiping the tears on his face “fix this”

eddie doesn’t waste a second throwing his shoes on and grabbing two jackets. he’ll do whatever it takes.

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— FOREVER AND ALWAYS

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. bf! choi beomgyu x fem! reader synopsis. arguments with your boyfriend are never easy, but this one- this one may just be the breaking point. genre. angst ,, fluff ,, wc. 1800. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ beomgyu the man u are🤭.. 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog & like !! <3

Beomgyu had always been known for his charm and wit, his playful demeanor endearing him to everyone around him. But in private, he could be cold and distant, his mood shifting like the unpredictable weather.

Last night had been no exception. The argument had started over something trivial—his lateness, his unexplained absences—but it had escalated into a shouting match that left both of them wounded deeply by each-other’s harsh words thrown.

Beomgyu had stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts and regrets. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, and glanced at the clock. It was past midnight, and Beomgyu still hadn't returned. The silence of the apartment was deafening, and Y/N felt a pang of loneliness that she couldn't shake, which had been residing within her for a while now.

“I should head to bed” she mumbled, but as she felt the tiredness of the nights events crawl up into her, she also felt the doom of her relationship with Beomgyu, falling asleep with tears running down her cheeks.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. Y/N had barely slept, her mind racing with worry and anger. She couldn't understand why Beomgyu had become so distant, why he seemed to push her away every time they got close. She loved him deeply, but his coldness was breaking her heart.

She heard the front door creak open and sat up, her heart pounding. Beomgyu walked in, his hair damp from the rain, his eyes tired and hollow. He didn't look at her as he shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes.

"Where have you been?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and concern.

"Out," Beomgyu replied curtly, avoiding her gaze.

"All night? Do you have any idea how worried I was Gyu?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "I needed some space Y/N."

"Space?" Y/N's voice rose, her frustration boiling over. "You needed space? Beomgyu, you can't just disappear whenever things get tough!"

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you didn't suffocate me all the time! I come home and here you are just bitching at me all the time!” Beomgyu snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.

Y/N recoiled as if she'd been slapped, her heart aching at his harsh words. "Suffocate you? Is that really how you feel? Bitching at you? I was worried for you, did you know how scared I was?”

Beomgyu's expression softened slightly, regret flickering in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with indifference. "I don't want to fight right now, Y/N."

"Well, that's too bad, because we need to talk about this. You can't keep shutting me out, Gyu. We need to talk about this.”

"There's nothing to talk about," Beomgyu said coldly. "I just needed some time to think."

"Think about what?" Y/N pressed, her voice cracking. "About us? About whether you still want to be with me? Wasn’t leaving me alone last night for the hundredth time enough?”

Beomgyu remained silent, his jaw clenched. The silence filled the atmosphere between them, heavy and oppressive.

"Fine," Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face. "If you won't talk to me, then maybe you should leave."

Beomgyu stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, he let out a quiet scoff before turning on his heel and walking out the door again. This time, the sound of the door closing behind him felt like the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

Days turned into weeks, and the apartment felt emptier than ever. Y/N went through the motions of her daily life, but the weight of Beomgyu's absence was a constant. She missed him terribly, missed the way he used to make her laugh, the way his eyes would light up when he saw her, and missed what it felt like being loved by Beomgyu.

She couldn't understand what had gone wrong, why Beomgyu had become so distant and cold. She replayed their last conversation over and over in her mind, trying to find some clue, some hint of what had driven him away.

One evening, as Y/N sat alone on the couch, her phone buzzed with a message. Her heart leaped as she saw Beomgyu's name on the screen.

"Can we talk?" the message read.

Y/N's hands trembled as she typed her response. "Okay."

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Y/N took a deep breath before opening it to find Beomgyu standing there, looking tired and worn. He didn't say anything as he walked inside, and Y/N closed the door behind him, her heart pounding in her chest.

They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them knowing where to begin.

"I'm sorry," Beomgyu finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for everything Y/N”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes. "Why, Beomgyu? Why did you push me away?"

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I guess... I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of losing you. Of letting you get too close and then losing you."

Y/N's heart ached at his words. "Beomgyu, you don't have to push me away to protect yourself. I love you. I want to be with you, no matter what. I won’t lie, you hurt me so bad Gyu, but I love you. Forever and always.”

Beomgyu's eyes softened at her words, Forever and Always, the same words he said to her the day he confessed his love to her, which seems forever ago now and he took a step closer to her.

“I’m so sorry baby, I love you too, Y/N. More than anything. I'm just... not good at showing it.” He says with his voice cracking at his land words as tears filled Beomgyu’s waterline.

Y/N reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Then show me. Let me in. We can face whatever comes together."

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "I promise. No more running away."

Y/N smiled through her tears and pulled Beomgyu into a tight embrace. As he held her close, she felt a sense of hope and relief wash over her. They still had a long way to go, but for the first time in weeks, she felt like they were on the right path.

Over the next few weeks, Beomgyu and Y/N worked on rebuilding their relationship. They talked openly and honestly about their fears and insecurities, building up the trust and slowly, the walls between them began to crumble.

Beomgyu made a conscious effort to be more present and attentive, showing Y/N just how much he cared. He would surprise her with little gestures of affection—bringing her favorite flowers, cooking her breakfast in bed, or simply holding her hand as they walked through the park and giving her soft kisses.

Y/N, in turn, was patient and understanding, giving Beomgyu the space he needed while also being there for him whenever he needed support. She could see the effort he was putting in, and it made her love him even more.

One evening, as they sat on the couch together, Beomgyu turned to Y/N with a serious expression. "I want to apologize again for how I treated you. You didn't deserve any of it, I was such an asshole, I don’t deserve you.” He says with a small smile.

Y/N smiled softly and placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you, Beomgyu. But what's important is that we're working through it together. I believe in us, and you deserve me just as much as I deserve you, we deserve each other.”

Beomgyu leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips soft and warm against hers. It was a kiss filled with love and promise, a symbol of their renewed commitment to each other.

Beomgyu sighs into the kiss as they pulled away, Beomgyu rested his forehead against hers. "I don't ever want to lose you, Y/N."

"You won't," Y/N whispered. "We're in this together, no matter what."

Just when it seemed like things were finally falling into place, a new challenge arose. Beomgyu received an offer to go on a world tour with his band, TXT. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, but it also meant months of separation and uncertainty.

Beomgyu was torn. He didn't want to leave Y/N, especially not after everything they had been through. But he also didn't want to miss out on such a significant opportunity for his career.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, Beomgyu broached the subject. "Y/N, I got an offer to go on tour with the band."

Y/N's heart sank, of course she knew what that meant, but she forced herself to stay calm. "That's amazing, Gyu. You should go."

"But what about us?" Beomgyu asked, his voice filled with worry. "I don't want to leave you, not again.” He says whispering pressing his forehead onto hers.

Y/N took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We'll be okay. We'll find a way to make it work, we always do Gyu. I believe in us.”

Beomgyu looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was love and gentleness. He smiled, adoration for you in his eyes and feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Thank you, love. I promise I'll make it up to you, mmh?” Beomgyu says fluttering his lashes onto your skin making you giggle and fall into his warm embrace even more.

Y/N leaned in and kissed him softly. "Just promise me you'll come back to me, no more running.” You whisper.

"I promise," Beomgyu whispered against her lips.

The day of Beomgyu's departure arrived all too soon. Y/N stood at the airport, holding back tears as she hugged him tightly.

"Be safe," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I will," Beomgyu replied, his own voice thick with emotion. "I'll call you every day, I promise."

Y/N nodded, unable to speak as she watched him walk away. As he disappeared into the crowd, she felt a pang of loneliness and fear, but she knew they would get through this. She knew Beomgyu loves her, and she loves him.

Forever and always.

@luvvsim 2024

[sturniolos-blog]

could you write one where ella has a boyfriend but she sneaks him in her room at night but then matt knocks on her door and ella hides her bf in the closet so then matt comes in to grab something like idk her laundry basket or something but he hears something in the closet so he goes and checks and then sees a boy so he gets pissed and yea you can go from there ig

Liar - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - arguing, swearing, yelling, fluff

disclaimer: 3rd person POV, ella’s 14 in this

—————————

10:48pm

Ella giggled as she sneaked her boyfriend Max in her room, letting out a louder laugh as he almost tripped.

“Cállate! My parents!” Ella whisper shouted.

cállate: shut up

“Sorry!” Max whisper shouted back as they got on her bed.

She shook her head before pulling him in for a kiss, her climbing on top of him and straddling his lap.

Ella hasn’t had sex and has not been planning on it, the farthest she goes is making out, and Max is okay with that.

Max pulled away from the kiss for a second, “What if we get caught?” He asked, sort of breathless.

Ella scoffed, “I’m not stupid, i told my parents i was going to bed early. Unless they come to watch me sleep and i don’t know about it, we’re good.” She jokes going back in for another kiss as their lips move against each others.

“Hey, Estrella?” Ella heard Matt call from the hallway.

Ella quite literally felt her heart drop to her ass, “Shit! Get in the closet!” She yelled in a quiet voice, getting off of Max and pushing him to her closet, closing the closet door and quickly getting under her covers.

“Hey, baby?” Matt says as he walks in holding a laundry basket, turning on her overhead light as he entered the room.

She didn’t have enough time to fake sleep so she just acted like she was trying to fall asleep. She sits up and fakes a yawn, “Yeah, dad?”

Matt smiles at her, “Sorry, i know you said you were going to bed but mom wanted me to tell you to not forget to put these away before school tomorrow.” Matt says, putting the basket on her desk chair.

“Okay, thanks. Night, dad.” Ella smiles, almost getting away with Max hiding in her closet. Almost.

“Night, sw-”

Clank

Ella felt her stomach start to hurt as she heard the noise from the closet, hoping her father hadn’t heard.

“What was that?” Matt asks curiously, walking to the closet and opening the door.

Surprise, surprise. Max was there.

Matt lets out a frustrated sigh, “Max! Lovely surprise! Can i ask you what you might be doing in my daughter’s closet at almost eleven o clock at night?” Matt asks, sarcasm hinted in his voice.

Ella sits up, “Da-”

“No, Ella. I’ll deal with you later. Max, im gonna have to ask you to leave, buddy.” Matt says as he clean clenches his jaw, Max nods.

“Bye, Ella!” Max calls out before walking downstairs, he lived two houses down so it’s not like Matt sent a 14 year old to walk home by himself, he’s not that cruel.

Matt turns around as his face with red with anger. “E-”

“Por qué acabo de ver a Max walk out of our house?” Y/n interrupts as she walks in the room, pointing behind her motioning towards where she saw Max.

Por qué acabo de ver a Max: Why did I just see Max

“Estrella snuck him in.” Matt says, crossing his arms as he looks at her.

“What!?” Y/n exclaims.

“No, i didn’t!” Estrella tried to defend herself, not really getting anywhere though.

“Estrella, there’s no way Max appeared in your closet out of no where!” Matt yells, “I’m not joking, I like Max and he’s a good boyfriend but you can’t just sneak him in ‘cause you wanna see him. That’s not how this is gonna work.” Matt sighs.

“Oooo! Dad just told you!” Mailo laughs as he walks in the room too.

“Get out, loser! No one wants you here!” Ella yells, grabbing her pillow from behind her and throwing it at Mailo.

Mailo laughs, “Oh right, you only want Max in here so you two can make-”

“Shut up!” Ella cuts him off.

“Alright, both of you chill out. Estrella, that’s not okay that you lied to us. There’s gonna have to be some sort of consequence.” Y/n shrugs, she never really gave Ella a consequence, they were both relaxed parents and Ella usually never lied.

Y/n looks at Matt, he looks back with a confused look, “Why are you looking at me?” He scoffs.

“Because you found Max. You have to give the punishment.” Y/n whisper shouts even though Mailo and Estrella can still hear them.

“I’m not good at giving punishments!” Matt whisper shouts back.

Y/n puts her hands up, “Neither am I!”

“Grounded for a hundred years with no phone and i get her room!” Mailo calls out.

“Cállate, pendejo!” Estrella yells, grabbing her other pillow from her bed and throwing it at him.

Cállate, pendejo: Shut up, asshole

Mailo laughs, “Ahora tú debería dormir en el sótano para eso.” Pointing at Ella as she lets out a frustrated groan.

Ahora tú debería dormir en el sotano para eso: Now you should sleep in the basement for that.

Matt shakes his head, “Okay, no one is sleeping in the basement, alright?” Matt directs it towards Mailo but then turns back to Ella. “Grounded for two weeks, you can keep your phone you just can’t see Max, and you can’t go out. Deal?” Matt says.

Estrella shrugs, “Okay, i’m sorry i snuck him in.” She looks down.

Y/n gasps, “Do not try and guilt trip your father! Okay, everyone out of the room, let’s go!” Y/n says, “Night, sweetheart.” Y/n drags Mailo and Matt out of the room.

“I feel bad..” Matt whispers.

“Dad, no! You can’t give in! Los ojos! Los ojos! No lo hagas! No lo hagas!” Mailo says very very dramatically, gripping onto Matt’s shirt like someone’s dying. Y/n let’s out a laugh and pushes Mailo’s head playfully.

Los ojos! Los ojos! No lo hagas! No lo hagas!: The eyes! The eyes! Don’t do it! Don’t do it!

Matt gives a sad smile.

“Go to bed, Mai.” Y/n says, ruffling his hair.

“Okay.” Mailo starts to walk towards his room but turns around quickly, “Can i still get Ella’s room?” He puts his hands together as he pleads.

“No!” Ella answers for Y/n. Y/n letting out a laugh as Mailo groans and dramatically walks to his room.

“Should we lower it down to one week?” Matt asks.

“No! Matt she lied to us. I feel bad but as long as this doesn’t happen again it’s okay. We’re just not used to her lying to us, and i hope we don’t have to get used to it.” Y/n sighs, resting her head on Matt’s shoulder.

“Me too.” He says, kissing Y/n’s forehead.

———————————

alright this fic was sorta goofy and like idk i don’t really like it but womp womp yk i hope you enjoyed the spanish part of it tho

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss

[kesujo]

Comfort Me

“Yuri~”

“Hm?”

“What’s wrong?”

Yuri flinched ever so slightly, but enough for me to notice. “What do you mean?”

I nodded to myself, confirming my suspicions. Ever since we sat down with our smoothies, I felt something strange about Yuri. Something was off. She normally talked a lot around me; today though, consisted of a lot more silences than I was accustomed to.

“I mean that you seem a bit off today. What’s wrong?” I asked with a concerned tone. Not only was she my best friend, but my crush. So obviously, I was concerned.

She sighed. “I-I’d rather not talk about it,” she said, voice cracking ever so slightly. But, yet again, just enough for me to notice.

“Ok, I understand,” I replied. I didn’t want to pressure her into doing something she was unwilling to talk about. “You should tell someone though. It’s bad to bottle up emotions like that,” I told her. “Hey, what about Nick?” I asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. She flinched slightly at the name. “He’s your boyfriend. Did you tell him?”

I felt like I already knew the answer. Or rather, the lack of an answer. Was something wrong in their relationship? As much as I loved Yuri, I wanted more than anything for her to be happy. It was cheesy, but I accepted that when I learned of Yuri and Nick’s getting together, and after I witnessed how happy Yuri was when Nick had asked her out. “Uh, yeah, I’ll tell him,” she replied. I wasn’t convinced. Did they fight?

I sighed. It wasn’t my business. If she didn’t want to tell me, that was fine, I told myself. It’s her business, not mine. And if she feels uncomfortable sharing it, then I won’t interfere.

I kept telling that to myself as I lay on my bed, having finished dinner some time ago. It bothered me to no end. I desperately wanted to help her. And, this could be my chance, a part of me said. It’s my chance to win her over!

Finally convinced, I looked at the clock. 8:32.

I grabbed my car keys and a sweater before rushing out. I would get to the bottom of this.

After a few minutes of impatient driving, I reached Yuri’s apartment building. I parked my car so poorly that it filled up two parking spaces. I didn’t bother reparking it as I quickly rushed to up the stairs and knocked on her door when I got there. Thank god she lived on the second floor.

“Coming!” I heard her angelic voice call out shortly after I knocked. I smiled. I loved the sound of her voice.

When she opened the door, she looked a bit shocked at first. “Uh—Yoona?”

I smiled. “May I come in?”

She stood aside, motioning for me to come in, her jaw still on the ground a little bit. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

I closed the door behind us. “I want to know what’s wrong,” I replied, looking down as I took off my shoes.

“It-It’s nothing,” she said shyly. “I don’t want to concern you with anything.”

“Bs. Talk to me.”

She sighed. “Ok. Follow me,” she said, grabbing my wrist.

“Why can’t we talk about it out here?” I asked, trying to contain my blush. I still wasn’t used to her touch, which was sorta sad considering we had been friends for over 5 years already.

“I—I feel insecure talking about it out here,” she said.

I giggled. “But this is your apartment.”

“I know. But still…”

“Ok, whatever you say,” I said as she dragged me into her room. Despite everything, I savored the feeling of her hand on mine.

When we got into the room, she sat me down on the bed and sat down next to me. I was trying not to hyperventilate. Not only was her scent intoxicating, but just being in close proximity of her made me anxious. I know this was serious, but I couldn’t help myself.

Apparently, Yuri noticed this and turned to me. She was really close to me. Her face was maybe a few inches away from mine. I shyly closed my eyes, feeling her breath on mine.

Without another sound, I felt Yuri place her hands on my shoulders and lightly set me down on the bed. I didn’t have to open my eyes to realize that Yuri was on top of me.

I started to blush, hard. Was this actually happening? Was I dreaming?

“Yoona…” she whispered in a way that turned me on. A lot.

“Mmm,” I answered, afraid to open my mouth because of what I might have said. The last thing I wanted to do now was embarrass myself.

She reached for the hem of my shirt and slowly slid it off me, her hands brushing my skin. Her touch made my skin crawl with excitement.

“Wow, beautiful,” she whispered. I blushed deeply. I was on Cloud 9 right now. She called me beautiful. She. Yuri Kwon. Called me, beautiful.

Then, she slid a hand under my bra and began to massage my breasts. I half gasped, half moaned. “Y—Yuri…” I said, feeling her using her other hand to pull down my pants.

“Yoona, you’re so beautiful,” she said again. I tentatively opened my eyes to see her smile at me. I tried for a smile myself but couldn’t as she continued to massage my breasts.

After she pulled off my pants, I felt her fingers tracing a line back up my leg. I shivered with excitement. And still, I was in disbelief. Yuri was going to—

She stopped. “M-My boyfriend broke up with me,” she said. I could see her eyes starting to water.

I blinked. Then blinked again. Then, what she said registered.

I felt a falling sensation in my stomach. What was it? It couldn’t be disappointment, could it? Did I really want … it … that much?

“Aw, I’m sorry,” I told her, hugging her. I felt her arms wrap around me.

“I’m sorry.”

I looked at her. “For what?”

“For doing this to you,” she replied.

I smiled and shook away that falling sensation in my stomach. I wanted to respond, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

Yuri hung her head. “You can sleep here if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said.

I stopped her from getting up. “No, its ok. I’ll just go home,” I told her.

She hung her head even further. “No no, it’s not because of you,” I said quickly, trying to reassure her. “I just—feel—” I stopped myself. I actually didn’t want to stay because I had yet to come to terms with myself about what just happened. And if I stayed longer, I was afraid of what might happen. I didn’t want to do something that I, or Yuri, would come to regret later. Especially after a breakup.

“It’s ok, I understand,” she replied. “You probably hate me, huh?” She smiled a bit.

“What? No! Of course not! You’re my best friend!” Right after I said that, I realized how much that didn’t help. “I love you!” I said, hastily trying to fill in the gaps. After a few still seconds, I realized what came out of my mouth.

Yuri was looking at me, mouth open, eyes displaying shock.

I covered my mouth. What had I done?

I took the chance to quickly slide my clothes on, run out of the bedroom, and put on my shoes before driving home.

I woke up to the sound of my ringtone. With my eyes still half closed, I leaned over and looked at the caller id. “Yuri<3”

I froze. Should I answer? It was best to confront your problems, not run away from them. Right? I hoped it was.

I accepted the call. “Yuri?”

“Yoona?” I heard her angelic voice say. “Can we meet around 1:00 at the noodle restaurant?”

“…uh—yeah, sure,” I replied. I wanted to tell her so much more, but my mouth prevented me from doing so.

After a second or two of silence, Yuri spoke again. “Yeah, so see you then?”

I nodded. “See you then,” I said. When I hung up, I started panicking. Why did she want to see me? The optimistic side of me proposed that she wanted to confess to me. The more pessimistic side of me warned me that she might want to sever ties with me, considering I was gay. And maybe that scared her. Which scared me.

Why was I so stupid? I sat in bed with tears on the brink of spilling out. If I only had more self-control of myself. I wish I hadn’t been so stupid. And rash.

I decided to go, nevertheless. No matter what kind of news she bore, I wanted to at least show her that I was a good friend and wouldn’t be late. Ironically, though, she was late.

“Hey Yuri,” I greeted her tentatively. She gave me a warm smile before sitting down.

“Hi Yoona,” she replied.

The rest of the lunch went by normally. It was as if Yuri decided to ignore what happened yesterday. I did no such thing, though; I kept on distracting myself with stupid, random thoughts. Like hypothetical situations and ways to fix it and so on.

After we had finished, I stood up. Yuri stood up with me, hastily. “Yoona, come to my house with me,” she said. Her eyes pleaded me, and I couldn’t resist her pleading eyes.

I merely nodded. She smiled and led me to her car. The restaurant was close enough for me to walk, but far enough from her that she had to drive. I guess it just worked out that way today.

On the drive home, not a single word was exchanged between us. This made me uneasy; usually, I had no problem striking conversations with Yuri. Right now though, Yuri had this aura about her that made me close my mouth every time I opened it to bring up something to say. Every time I looked at her, she had this intense expression on her face, like she was concentrating really hard on something. I had to say, she looks really hot doing that.

When we arrived at the apartment building, we silently walked up the stairs and into her apartment. I glanced in the direction of her bedroom. Yuri, however, dragged me to the couch near the door this time.

“Yoona?”

“Yeah?”

“C-Can you comfort me?”

She sounded so fragile, I just wanted to hug her. But instead, I put my arm around her shoulder and let her head lean against my shoulder.

“Yoona, do you know why I broke up with him?”

“No...why?”

“Because I think I started to fall in love with you.” My breath hitched. I was sure I heard her right, yet my brain refuted it. Logically … right? Could she? “And when I realized that, I felt guilty and broke up with him,” she continued. That verified it.

“Yuri, I—”

Suddenly, Yuri turned us around so that she was on top of me, yet again. “So when I said ‘comfort me’, I meant this,” she whispered to me in a husky voice. Then, she reached for the hem of my shirt. I gasped slightly, my stomach overturning itself as butterflies invaded my stomach. Did I want this? Hell yeah, I did.

“Yuri…” I gasped as she took off my shirt.

“Let’s take this to my bedroom, shall we?”

I only blushed in response. Yuri grinned and lifted me, carrying me bridal style into the room.

When we arrived, she gently set me on the bed and resumed her position: on top of me. “So, are you up for the task?”

I shuddered with excitement. The feeling was exhilarating. The feeling of anxiety, of excitement, of … lust?

Yuri slipped off my shorts, the cold air piercing my frail skin. “Are you willing?”

I simply nodded once. I couldn’t muster anything else, as I had no strength to do anything other than respond. “Thank you,” she whispered, then reached behind me and unclasped my bra.

When I realized what had happened, I blushed furiously and move my arms to hug my naked chest. Her arms had already pinned mine, so when she felt resistance, she grinned. “Don’t. You’re beautiful,” she told me. I blushed even more, suddenly not able to make contact with her.

I felt her gaze move away from me, and before long, something wet on my breast. “Hnnn,” I let out a drawn out moan, arching my back to meet her mouth as she pleasured my boobs and their nipples.

She used her free hand to massage my free breast, kneading it with expertise. My nipples became rock hard very quickly.

“Mmm, you’re so sexy Yoona,” she said, causing me once again to flush. I could feel my lower regions beginning to become irritated. The feeling intensified as she took a hand and touched my upper, inner thigh.

“Hnn!” I moaned, almost jumping when her hand made contact so close to my private region. I began to feel wetness pool in that area.

“Hmm,” she hummed, lowering herself down to my legs. She swiftly took off my panties, leaving me stark naked. “You’re so wet, Yoona,” she commented, placing a finger on my core and teasing its folds.

“AAHH,” I moaned, much louder this time as I involuntarily bucked my hips in a desperate attempt to meet her finger. The attempt was in vain as it met empty air.

“Are you a virgin, Yoona?” I nodded shyly. “Ok, this is going to hurt a little, but just trust me, ok?” I nodded again.

She flicked at my core a bit more, inducing more of my juice before placing a finger inside me. I shuddered with pleasure. The feeling was indescribable. I was not looking forward to tomorrow as my throat was most assuredly going to be dry by the next morning.

Soon after, I felt her slow down. I bit my lips, trying my best not to just scream out and tell her to move faster, harder, and deeper. “Oh, your hymn has already been broken?”

“Sp-sports!” I moaned, giving the briefest explanation I could before biting my lips again.

Yuri noticed this, apparently, and put another finger in me, beginning to move faster. The temptation suddenly became ten times harder to resist. “Say my name.”

“Yuriiii~~” I moaned. She swiftly entered a third finger inside me. I could feel my walls trying to stretch to accommodate her. “Unnnggggg,” I moaned again. Her pace quickened, her fingers reaching deeper inside me with every thrust. “Yuri…” Then, something happened. She hit a spot inside me, and my mind exploded. Fireworks burst behind my already tightly shut eyes. “Yuri!” I screamed, unable to hold the temptation anymore.

“There it is,” I somehow managed to catch her say. She continually hit that spot, causing me to probably wake up her neighbors, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Yuri continued to pump her fingers inside me until I felt an intense pressure build up in my core. “Yuri, I’m going—”

“Cum for me,” she whispered. And somehow, as soon as she said that, I felt a huge release. I saw colors I thought weren’t even possible as I felt wave after wave of cum squirt out of my core.

After a few seconds, I shuddered to a stop. “Thank you,” Yuri whispered to me, planting a light kiss on the top of my head.

“I—I made a mess…” I said, ashamed.

“I think I like you messy,” she replied. I blushed furiously, which only made her chuckle. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled the blanket over us. “Next time, you can pleasure me.”

I turned beet red. I wonder what that was going to be like.

[loki-g0dofstories]

Talk to Me

Loki x Fem!Reader

Loki is reluctant to process all that he’s been through, it’s not trauma and he’s ‘fine’ but tensions are rising and he’s becoming a loose cannon.

Warnings: PTSD, angst, swearing, MDNI, NSFW, oral (male receiving), p in v. I think that’s all.

*Not really proof read or anything, sorry!

The ticking clock, your chair creaking and frustrated deep sighs were the only sounds to be heard in your small office at the moment.

"Loki, they only want to help" even you didn't believe your lies today why should he? His blue eyes dart a glare in your direction, nostrils flaring slightly "Help? The Time Variance Authority wants to help not only a variant but a Loki? No" he grumbles pacing your office "No this" he pauses running his fingers through his onyx tresses "This is a tactic of some sort" you disagreed this time and it was likely to cause a fight.

You take in a deep breath to prepare for the oncoming anger you'll receive and part your lips to speak "You've been a loose canon lately" Loki returns to you the coldest of glares with his jaw clenched tight "Who's side are you on? You wear the colors and the badge but I never imagined you believed the bullshit!" his eyes blackened as he hissed at you spitting venomous words like a snake "Loki..." you reply calmly directing his attention to the green glow emanating from his hands "There's a storm inside you and it's growing too big for you to contain it any longer" he looks to you almost as if he's pleading for help "I can't control it anymore" he admits weakly.

You knew Loki all too well and you knew he'd never agree to what the TVA was suggesting "I know you don't want to talk about it" his hand flies up to hush you instantly "N-not with one of their khaki clad minions!" if not them then who would Loki talk to? Mobius had already given it his best effort more than once, apparently Loki would change the subject or claim it did not effect him the way Midgardians would be affected but you both knew better "Would you talk to me?" it felt like a stupid suggestion the moment you said it "You? No" Loki shakes his head still pacing "No I can't do that" he declines "Why not?" why were you pressing the matter? You didn't expect him to agree in the first place "Well because the things you'd learn about me might scare you away" he admitted that far more willingly than either of you anticipated.

Gods how you wanted to rise and greet him in a hug but you couldn't, no they were always watching and you had to be careful especially inside your office. The director of agents at the TVA can't have a soft spot for a variant, let alone a Loki or they'd have your head. That's not true they don't behead here, no they'd have you pruned to the void where you're certain you wouldn't last long given what little Loki has told you "Scare me away?" you question, those were heavy words with many meanings in your opinion and you wanted clarification "Well yes, you're my friend" Loki had puppy dog eyes going, big and sorrowful staring right at you.

A thunderous knock echoes off your door startling the both of you before it swings open "Sorry to interrupt Director but I need my partner" Mobius smiles at you and motions to Loki "Of course, we were finished here" you nod excusing the both of them "I'll check in again in a few days agent" you warn staring right at Loki before he leaves.

Loki had been reckless and a liability lately for the TVA and the heat was being put on you to fix it. They wanted him to see one of their 'therapists' which was just code for memory removal to foster better cooperation. Loki had never received a wipe before because his memories as a Loki were too valuable but now his recklessness was outweighing their value. It took quite a bit of convincing but they agreed to let you try and talk him into a real therapist, that was just a buy for time from you honestly. You truly thought that if all else failed Loki would open up to you but when that failed too your worst fear became real, you were going to lose Loki, he would forget you.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

    Sleep wouldn't come easy tonight and so you settled on the sofa not even bothering to try it. Backlogged files piled next to you and a glass of the most bitter wine you've ever had the misfortune of tasting on the table. Everything at the TVA was like that, bland, bitter, and dull lacking any intriguing qualities. Everything except for Loki, he was vibrant and exciting, he was chaos. You look at the pile with a sigh getting ready to grab one when a heavy knock thuds from your front door "Oh thank gods" ditching the pile on a side table on your way by you were more than thrilled for a distraction.

    On the doorstep stood Loki, tousled hair and tired eyes with a soft smile "Hey you" he never spoke to you that way "Are you okay?" you almost reach for him but remember that they're watching in the halls too "Can we talk?" he wanted to talk, talk about what? Your mind was reeling but you step aside to allow him inside closing the door softly behind him "Come on" you lead him to your sofa taking a seat beside him and waiting with baited breath for him to begin.

    Loki clears his throat shifting in his seat "If I were to talk with you, I mean really talk, you promise you won't change how you think of me?" his hands fidgeted with his coat and hair as he spoke "Nothing could change my mind about you Loki" you assure him. He remained quiet fiddling with his jacket hem and not looking at you until you spoke again "Loki, do you want to start now?" his soft eyes glance at you for a moment then back down as he inhales deeply "I don't even know where to start" you can hear a chuckle but also the undeniable sound of his breath hitching, he was trying to hide tears "Why don't you start from the beginning?" you suggest resting your hand on his forearm.

Loki chuckles again, his body jerking slightly with it "The beginning?" he repeats "The torture? Or the mass murder?" he looks to you perhaps to see if you'll pull back in disgust or fear "You were tortured?" you'd often wondered how Loki came to know and fear Thanos but you never imagined something so sinister behind it "Yes, for months, I'm a frost giant you know?" he looks towards you again to read your reaction "I'm aware" you nod calmly "Right, so they tortured me with fire of course and heat" he continues "Gods Loki I had no idea" pulling your hand from his you press it to your own chest "Is that how he brainwashed you for the attack on New York?" you inquire "Brainwashed? No, that was the mind stone" he corrects.

     Why did that never occur to you? You feel so stupid and insensitive "I'm sorry, I just assumed" you had more to say but Loki doesn't let you finish "Its alright, after that I ended up here, and you would think not living through the following catastrophic and traumatic events would make them easier but no, no it's so much worse to know they happened and you did nothing or even caused some of them" he was really opening up now "Loki you didn't cause those things" you argue back "No?" his gaze freezes on you, eyes dark "I didn't lead that beast straight to my mother Frigga? Because of my hatred for Thor? My anger?" he hisses through his gritted jaw "Loki stop that right now" he wasn't about to use his anger to frighten you, not if you had anything to say about it.

He's taken aback by your scolding, he's not some child throwing a tantrum how dare you speak to him as such. Never the less his face softens looking to you "My family, my home, they're all gone, and I feel as though I am not allowed to grieve because I did not lose them" tears glisten in his eyes making them appear almost gem like "You did lose them and you may grieve as you see fit" you assure him. Loki looks to you with a sniffling chuckle "I am a monster, I caused the deaths of thousands on Midgard, I act only in self preservation how could I ever achieve redemption?" he asks "You are not a monster" taking his cheek in your hand you turn his head to face you "You were hurt and lost and you've already done so much to achieve redemption" you assure him.

     Loki closes his eyes slowly causing a single tear to begin a journey down his soft cheek where you wipe it away with your thumb "I don't deserve a friend like you" he whispers, his eyes remaining closed. You lean forward softly pressing your lips against his, the salt of his tears hitting your tongue like a bitter sweetness before you break away putting your forehead to his. Loki's nose nuzzles at your cheek, his hand coming up rest on your shoulder "Kiss me again" his whispers so soft you think you've imagined it but you haven't "Please" he whimpers.

Tangling your fingers in his satin obsidian curls you kiss him again, harder this time. The moment his lips part your tongue sinks in tasting all he has to offer, his spit like a sweet nectar on your lips. Loki offers you a moan to swallow as you sink into him losing yourself to his every touch and kiss. He pulls you onto his lap, his hand running up the length of your back to grip your neck holding you in the kiss longer. Adjusting your position on his lap grinds your core against his hardness and a moan spills from Loki's lungs against the nape of your neck, the warmth of his breath spreading goosebumps over your skin.

"Loki this is wrong" you protest, though only half heartedly "If we desire it then how can it be wrong?" he breathes against your lips begging to taste them again "I'm your director, your superior" you answer back "Your midgardian niceties don't apply here little one" he growls sinking his teeth into your neck, he's needy and desperate for your consent "I can't" you sigh pushing him away.

     Loki grabs you keeping you planted on his lap, your small face cupped gently in his hands "I need you" he confesses "Why? For what? How?" you demand, he couldn't do this to you, not now when so much was on the line "You are the only thing that makes it stop" his lip quivers but his stare bores into you unyielding "Makes what stop?" his hands fall from your face to lace fingers with yours "The pain" he says quietly. You wish you had a reply, anything at all to say but you only offer silence "You quell the chaos and pain inside my heart, I feel peace when I'm near you" he explains.

You comb your fingers through Loki's silky curls and smile at him "What are you asking?" you inquire "Be with me tonight, let me have all of you" he requests. You were safe from prying eyes in your home, you could freely give yourself to him if you really wanted to. Taking his face in your hands you lean in and kiss him again "Tell me more first, talk to me" you urge him "I'm angry about what I've lost" he admits "And?" you press him "The way that I died, so violently and quickly" he pauses shaking his head "What else Loki?" you ask him "I'm scared" he confesses finally "I'm scared of what I saw in the void, I'm scared I'll be sent back there, I'm scared of losing you" leaning forward you give him another soft kiss "You will never lose me Loki" you whisper against his cheek before placing a kiss on it.

     You started your trail there and moved swiftly to his jaw, then his neck eventually sliding down to your knees in front of him and unfasten his trousers reaching in to pull out his hardening cock "Oh...." Loki moans tossing his head back and bucking his hips towards your hand. He was impressive, thick and long, practically flawless like the rest of him. You didn't know where to begin so you lean in to kiss his tip while another moan tumbles from his beautiful pouty lips. Swirling your warm tongue around it you finally suck him into your wet mouth slowly, savoring his taste on your tongue "Oh gods...." Loki moans fist clenching the cushion beside him. You bob your head along his length, your hands sliding up his chest to fist his shirt and Loki bucking his hips to meet your motions. His breathing becomes heavier and his cock twitches against your tongue, the undeniable salty taste of cum hitting your tastebuds. He was close and you wanted, no needed him to finish, you needed to taste all of him "Aahhh gods!" Loki shouts with a moan lurching forward and spilling his warmth into your mouth.

"Stop, please stop" Loki begs panting heavily and pulling you off him "Come here" he beckons dragging you onto his lap and kissing you hungrily. He looks at you with hooded, lust filled eyes for a moment "There's no magic here so I guess I get to undress you the old fashioned way" he smirks. You have no witty comeback or reply, just an ache for him to be against you, inside you. Holding your arms up you allow Loki to remove your top leaving you bare. He leans forward and sucks one hard nub into his warm wet mouth circling it and moving to the other to do the same. Soon you're tearing at his coat and shirt to remove it exposing a perfectly toned body beneath, you weren't at all surprised by it. Loki paws at your shorts a moment "Let's get these off shall we?" he purrs while you stand and remove them, Loki removing his own in the meantime.

    You stand before him for a moment drinking in his beauty, his cock was hard again, of course he has impeccable recovery, he is a god after all. Loki extends a hand to you "Come here little one" he hums, bringing you towards him. You straddle his lap carefully lining up your entrance and slide down onto him slowly "Oh Loki" you moan burying your face against his neck "Shhh I know" he purrs placing warm wet kisses on your shoulder. Before long you're rising and falling on him with ease, his tip hitting your g-spot and bringing you closer to climax "Gods little one, don't stop" Loki begs gripping your hips tightly. Placing your hands on either side of him you prop yourself up to look into his eyes while you ride him. Loki's mouth drops open and you expect another beautiful moan from him "I love you" he confesses "Gods I'm so in love with you darling" he moans.

You can't speak as your orgasm tears through you, your walls clenching around Loki and taking him with you. Your small body shudders against him while he coats your walls in his release before sliding his softening cock from you and holding you against him with your head resting on his shoulder "I love you too Loki" you finally answer. Loki kisses you gently another time "Shall we get you cleaned up and off to bed?" He asks "Sure" you agree.

Loki carries you to the bathroom where he gently wipes your thighs clean before cleaning himself and taking you to bed. His head rests gently on your torso while you comb your fingers through his hair as you both drift off to sleep. He was your Loki now, and no one was ever going to take him away from you.

[naomis-daydream]

on the throne // shuri udaku

summary: just read tbh….ok fine i’ll explain😒. being queen comes with a load of royal responsibilities; from border patrol, to technological advancements, and everything in between. though wakanda’s ruler realizes there’s a special someone she’s been neglecting. shuri’s come up short, and her wife’s coming to collect what’s hers.

warnings: pregnant!wife!reader. descriptions of pregnancy (obvs), teeny weeny bit of oral (shuri receiving). barely proofread.

a/n: this is the product of baby fever and ovulation😜 also this is a draft from forever ago, it kinda sucks so im dropping it under the cloak of night🥷🏽.

there were many things shuri loved about your body.

your hands, for instance. they always offered her a soothing rub or relaxing touch whenever she became stressed or overwhelmed with the weight of the crown. or something soft to hold as you spent evenings watching the wakandan sunset from the palace garden.

then there were your arms. shuri found that she only slept peacefully when yours were wrapped tightly around her middle. and if the royal ever woke to realize you rolled away, she’d assure she wiggled her way back into your grasp.

and bast your thighs. if the queen could spend the rest of her days between them, the soft, plush cushions, there’d be absolutely no resistance from the panther.

now it was worse, and it was all your fault. it was one of the many nights the queen spent inside you. somewhere between when she slowly pushed into you and when she brought you nearing your third high of the night, you had joked about her getting you pregnant. something about her having the genius and the looks to make a great gene pool. “fill me up, my queen,” you uttered, “give it to me. i want all of you.” you we’re fucking tantalizing.

it didn’t help that she had the science to make what originated as a lustful thought a reality.

now, seven months later, everything she loved about you only grew as your body changed. your natural curves only hypnotized her more as your hips widened and breasts swelled.

shuri also couldn’t help but smile when you wobbled cutely around your shared home due to the swell of your ankles, and while you refused to be helped with an act as simple as walking, you would feign resistance to shuri’s pleads to ease your pain before caving to let her massage your aching joints.

but the absolute worst part was the hormones. the cravings that made shuri tip-toe into the kitchen for you well after midnight, the hot flashes that would cause you to walk practically bare around the palace, and your sex drive, yours nearly matched that of her’s when she took the herb. though, only two of those things seemed to be prevailing today, where the only thing separating you from her was the thinnest dresses. it wasn’t unusual for you to forgo a bra this late into your pregnancy, but it seemed you’d forgotten any undergarments at all today as you sat on the lap of the queen, grinding helplessly into her thigh.

“yiza, mntwana,” you purred. come on, baby. “let me touch you.”

your wife squirmed from her place on the throne, hands on your hips as she guided you. you trailed your lips down her jaw to land on her pulse point before sucking intently.

while you were preoccupied, the woman took the chance to glance at the clock in the room, hissing slightly when noticing the time and when you sunk your teeth into her flesh. you were going to ruin her, she knew that much. the sad part is, she was gonna let you.

“the elders,” she whined, finding words rather hard when you moaned against her. “our meeting, they’ll be here in minutes!”

you pause your movements to lean up to her ear, whispering, “fuck the meeting.”

shuri threw her head back, sinking further into the the chair and further into the trap you set in motion the minute you walked into the room.

you always started by entering with a sweet smile, followed by asking her how her day was or what project she was working on. then you’d begin rubbing her shoulders, kissing her neck while muttering sweet nothings and telling her she worked too hard. “let me take care of you,” you’d say, “you deserve to feel good, don’t you wanna feel good?” and soon shuri would end up on her back, eyes wide shut as her legs were thrown over your shoulders and your fingers snug between her walls.

this time was different though. it had to be. the council meeting was nearing by the minute, and you showed no signs of waving the white flag.

“entle,” she began, licking her lips as she spoke. “i-i really think we should wait.” you continued to kiss her, attaching your lips to whatever skin you could reach as shuri continues. “once it’s over we can do whatever you want, my love.” her hands run over the curve of your ass, squeezing gently.

you pulled away from her, hands still cupping her cheeks. “i wanna do whatever i want now.”

“i know. i promise i-i’ll make it up to you.” she says, tilting her head up to look at you before placing a soft kiss to your lips. it’s sweet, the taste of her, and as much as you wanted more, she pulls away. “you better,” you scolded, “you’re the one who did this to me anyway.” you nod your head down to your stomach, stretching against the fabric of your maxi dress. the hormones had been driving you insane. and it didn’t help that shuri spent so much time away with all her new duties. this left you to take care of your own needs more often than you’d like to admit. you needed her. to feel her. while it might seem like you were caving, her majesty should’ve known better than too assume her wife would back down so easily.

your words bring a smile to shuri’s lips, a laugh escaping her as you sigh while you rise off of her, giving her a full view of your bump as you do so.

“whatever you want, mama.”

you hum a lazy response as your queen visibly relaxes, no longer antsy with your aroused antics. though she wasn’t in the clear just yet, you came here for a reason, and wouldn’t leave unfulfilled.

a simple idea sprouts in your head, and soon, a mischievous smile dances across your features as you reach back to unclasp your necklace. shuri raises a brow in question, but remains silent as you both watch the dainty jewelry slide down your chest and onto the floor, right between her feet.

“oops.”

the royal shakes her head, already having a clue of where this was headed. but you’re already sinking to your knees, eyes never leaving hers.

you rub your palms along the fabric of her black dress, reaching just below her knees. you play with the hem, eyeing the fickle fabric before tracing your fingertips higher. and higher. and high-

“thandiwe.” she warned.

beloved. how wholesome a name in contrast to your actions upon her. you peered up at her, batting your lashes at her. “yes, my queen?”

“we have ten minutes before our meeting-”

“i’ve made you come in less,” you continue, hooking your fingers around her underwear.

shuri wanted to protest, she really did, and she tried to. she mutters tiny objections at first, and you almost believe them, but the way she lifted her hips to help you remove her underwear, the way she whined when you tugged her to the throne’s edge, and the way she threw her head back with the first stripe you licked up her center told you all you needed to know. let’s face it, she knew she was done for the minute you walked in the room.

you begin to place gentle kisses to her clit, giving her a little stimulation, but not quite enough for her liking. shuri shudders above you, legs shaking gently. she began to realize just how long it’d been since the two of you had sex.

“still want me to stop?” you asked, tongue twirling around her entrance, to which she moaned in response. a light chuckle escapes your lips. “i’ll take that as a no.”

[cyberl33ch]

Excuse Me, Miss? Chapter 2

masterlist, part one, part three, part four

summary: Neighbor turned business partner, romantic or conflict of interest?

word count: 1.14k

tw: angst, eventual smut, conflict of interest, alcohol consumption, & hopeless feeling.

pairing: Neighbor/BusinessPartner!Abby x NepoBaby!Reader

“Excuse me, Miss?” Your reminiscing is interrupted by a familiar voice. You turn around to lock eyes with none other than…Abby? After standing there trying to piece together a valid reason Abby had business at your dad's company. You never found one…this is also when you realize you didn’t know much about her and lowkey could’ve gotten kidnapped last night. Cheers to impulsive, alcohol-influenced actions…right?? 

“What are you doing here?” You say with a slightly dropped jaw and raised eyebrow. “I have a…uh-” Whatever Abby was going to say gets cut off by your father entering the room, standing beside Abby, and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I see you’ve met my daughter..” Your father says clenching his jaw, you can practically hear his teeth grinding.

“D-daughter?” Abby says, widening her eyes as she stammers over her words. Your father nods confirming Abby’s worst fear, looking at you both as silence fills the room. “Well, we have a business meeting.” He says motioning Abby towards a chair, which was also a polite “get the fuck out.” 

You took that and ran with it literally, clocking out and booking it to the parking garage where your car was. After getting in you take the biggest exhale of your life swearing you could rip your hair out follicle by follicle.

Starting up the car ready to get in bed and sulk you get a knock on your window, rolling it down you meet gazes with Abby again. She cast quite the shadow being that your car was slightly low to the ground, she looked relaxed with one hand in her pocket looking down at you with those eyes. 

“I was just gonna ask- um…if we could talk tomorrow?” She says nervously, slightly taking a step back as she scratches the back of her neck. “Uhh sure yeah.” You say letting a yawn escape showing how exhausted you were. You both bid your goodbyes as Abby takes a step back watching you drive out of the parking spot. 

Waking up in the sunlight is therapeutic to others, especially with the view in your bedroom but to you, it’s just another sunrise.

You felt it was time to try something different since you hadn’t sipped tequila a whole day. Everything has been giving you a fresh start kind of feel. New “job”, new things, new skills, even a new milf next door. Isn’t life beautiful?

While sitting in the living room deciding what to watch for your employee holiday. Yesterday when they told you it was an employee holiday you had to google what that was because you thought regular employees worked year round.

You decide to cook yourself for once, but you never really took it upon yourself to cook, often ordering takeout or just eating chips and liquor. 

However, you do have a couple of recipes locked into your brain from when your mother used to cook with you as a kid.

You always feel cozy from most of her recipes even the simple ones, she always adds her twist on everything. Even to this day, you have a positive view of her to which your dad has never taken a likeness.

Nevertheless, this day isn’t about the past it’s about relaxation-. You quickly stopped in your tracks realizing Abby hadn’t crossed your mind once since you’d risen out of your bed. 

It takes you two plates of food and a few seasons of The Walking Dead to finally come up with a justifiable reason for why Abby had any business at your dad's company, let alone a meeting.

During the time you were helping her move boxes into her place, you saw some boxes marked work supplies. Maybe she was there negotiating or even offering something. It wasn’t rare for smaller companies to try and use your dad as a way to the top or to even skyrocket sales. 

Knocks at your door making you jolt up, pausing the TV show that earlier had your gears going. Having a gut feeling about who was on the other side of the door you found it best to not contemplate and just act so you opened the door with the fakest smile you could force out.

Abby’s facial expressions were caught off guard if anything. “Hey…is now a good time or? I could always come back later-” She practically vomited out. “You’re fine, come in,” You say, stepping aside and letting a grin creep up on your face.

You gestured Abby towards a cozier room with a fireplace, you’d just finished renovating it so why not show it to someone and get your money's worth?

As you two sat down an awkward space in between you two, which honestly made the decorations on the fireplace all the more interesting. “I’m guessing you want to know why I was at Ray's- Your father's workplace,” Abby said, you responding with an eager nod. 

The first-name basis makes the situation seem way deeper than it seemed on the surface level. “Well I own a few small companies and he was thinking of taking a small percentage of my shares.” She says searching for any sign of discomfort in your eyes.

You hum hoping to keep the conversation from souring again but that seems impossible with the way she's scooting closer to you and soul-searching in your irises. 

This alone pushing nothing but heat to your core has you looking in any other direction but her face. “Hey, you haven’t told me why you were there?” Abby questions looking a little more amused than you’d like.

“My dad has me covering for a worker there so…” You say rather blankly. Abby, catching on that you would rather not elaborate further, didn't push or press any more buttons. Instead, she gave you an invitation to an art gallery that was happening later in the day. 

Kindly taking the invitation she shows herself out as you race to your office so you can see what people wear to art galleries.

Quickly choosing Pinterest as a way to pinpoint things you can incorporate into the outfit. Sighing, shutting off your computer, and seeing your reflection on the monitor gives you the grounding you so badly need. 

What if this was just a friendly invitation…or better yet a pity one. Maybe she wanted to make a good impression on you hoping you’d run back to your father and report.

Trying to stay on the positive side of things you tell yourself she probably just wants to get into your good graces in general. Hoping that today will be you, wine, great art, and a milf. God bless America.

my masterlist

(tell me in my ask my anything's if you have a request!)

(divider by @gigittamic)

[yorshie]

BLURB DAY BLURB DAY numero uno congrats on a new milestone yeeeeeehaw!!! and for the blurb [rubs hands together] how about some 14 and 21 with my forever boy, donnie. disgustingly soft. like. im gonna wanna nest on it soft. the Most tender. tytyty hugs you a lot

*accepts hug and spins you around* you are in fact numero uno! thank you for requesting on Blurb Day! I hope you are having a wonderful Friday!

*me writing this blurb* alright, just a cup of sweetness *upends the whole 25lbs container* yeah. that seems about right.

Somewhere in the Lair, you could hear Mikey singing while he baked, the smell of cinnamon and apples heavy in the air. The heaters in the Lair were on full blast, the hum of the industrial furnaces bringing a heated warmth into every room, the groan of the pipes buried underneath the extra noise, but nothing could drown out the heavy beat of Donatello's heart underneath your ear, as loud as a drum through the solid keratin you were curled up against.

His hand slid across your back in a lazy pattern, and you hummed into the hollow of his throat, knowing he had finally woken up from the nap you'd enticed him to take earlier in the morning.

"Time?" He rasped, jaw moving against your hair, and you felt his legs stretch where they were entwined with yours, quads quivering as he held the position for a long moment. He inhaled, chest swelling, and you shifted to get comfortable once more at the movement.

"Mike's still baking." You supplied in a whisper, arms tightening around him, not wanting him to think he could slip away just yet.

"Not dinner time, then." Donnie's arm tightened around you, holding you close as he jostled over just a smidge to read the numbers on his battered alarm clock. "Hm... maybe half an hour before we have to get ready."

You shivered as cold air snuck into the blankets around where his arm was raising the fabric, and he noticed, tunneling his arm back into the warmth and hiking the comforter closer around the pair of you.

He brushed his lips against your hair, beak pressing against your forehead, and you grinned, knowing what he was after. You let him press chaste flutters against the thin skin of your eyelids before giving into his silent request and tipped your head back for a proper kiss, his mouth lingering over yours.

"No one to catch us here." You pressed the words against his lower lip, referring to the time his brothers had caught the pair of you kissing in the kitchen.

"No one would have caught us then," Donnie whispered back, a smirk threatening the curl of his mouth. One hand slid up under the covers, framed your jaw so he could tip your head to the side in a better angle. "If someone hadn't loudly said 'just let me sneak one more, Dee, no one has-" his words cut off with a hmmpf when your arms wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips, knowing he was about to go off course and not in the mood to remember who exactly said what when he was warm and solid against you, thigh curling up to nudge you higher to lessen the reach.

The tip of his tongue painted over your upper lip, slipped inside your mouth and barely touched the edge of your teeth before pulling back to repeat the motion. He only stopped when you were shivering once more, satisfaction in the crinkle of his eyes as he squinted down at you in the low light.

"I'll never get tired of this." He whispered, threading the hand pinned to the bed in between the strands of your hair. "I'll always love you, you know that, right?"

You smiled, pressed a kiss against his beak, hands petting over the ridge of his carapace at the feeling of his thumb rubbing against your scalp. "I know, Dee. I'll always love you, too."

He dipped to kiss you again, and neither of you heard Mikey's calls for dinner until Leo sent a text to both your phones.

[earthtoplum]

sincerely yours... // eddie munson.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!ballerina reader (she/her pronouns)

summary: Untouchable, is what he called you. Dating Jason, the captain of the basketball team, most would call you the same. Living your holier than thou life, something else he said, you can't seem to swallow the need to prove him wrong.

word count: 11k

warnings: a lot of sex talk, this is for mature audiences only, mentions of marijuana, mentions of alcohol, slight insinuation of mean parenting on eddies end.

a/n: hi, thanks for being here :) i have been sitting on this for a while and have decided to let it be free. this is set up for a fic, all of my work seems to be *eyeroll*, i'm sick of myself, can never do something SMALL. how many high school 80s fics can we make of eddie... lets find out.

A fluff of dirty blonde hair brushes against your chin, a sweet musky scent flooding your senses, his favorite shampoo. The locks of hair were soft, you could get lost in them for hours, whether you were burying your nose in the thick tresses or dragging your fingers through them. Tonight they were tickling your skin, caressing the smooth curve of your jaw as the boy they belonged to pressed chaste kisses to your neck.

“Think you’ll be able to stay over?” He mumbles, lifting his chin to meet your eyes. Releasing a breath, you raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend and shake your head.

“Jason, I told you,” You say, repeating yourself for third time, “I’ve got a really important rehearsal this Saturday,” Glancing away, Jason bobs his head, “I don’t miss them for anything,” You smile, bringing a hand beneath his chin to make him look back at you, “Not even pretty boys like you.”

“Pretty boys like me,” Jason smirks, playfully rolling his eyes, “I’m flattered… Even if my feelings are hurt.” His pink lips that fit perfectly on his face pulled into a pout.

“No!” You giggle, cupping his cheeks, making his lips squish out, “They won’t be when you get to see the show.” He tries to smile, squishing his cheeks further.

“I can’t wait,” He sighs, then shifts over top of you, “Now keep kissing me.”

Giving him a grin, you slide your arms around his shoulders and pull him close, pressing your lips to his slowly, yet innocently. 

It was all too sweet and careful. That’s all it ever was, all of the time. You’d begun to pray for time away from him so you wouldn’t grow bored of this, though some part of your subconscious, the part you ignored, was telling you that you already were.

The way your body reacted to him was enough of a sign. Kissing him was nice, he was good at that, it was everything else where he gave a subpar performance. Unlike his success on the basketball court, most times you were reaching, praying for a buzzer beater, but got left with nothing.

On the court the boy could score, many times, however, between the sheets, nothing.

This weekend his parents were going out of town which left him with an empty house. Jason was notorious for throwing rager’s, and now that you were seniors it was without a doubt they’d be bigger and better than they’ve ever been. The basketball team already knew how they were going to get their hands on three different kegs, and Jason’s dad already kept one in their basement, so this party was going to blow a hole through their roof.

On top of you, Jason slides a gentle hand over your blouse, just barely grabbing your breast, like he was nervous. That expression never showed elsewhere though, his face always read as confident, and sure of himself.

The soft touch was far from satisfying.

As his hand slipped lower, never spending enough time anywhere to rile you up, he peppered kisses to the side of your neck like he once was, using just his lips in a quick, staccato motion.

“Jason,” You whisper before his hand has the chance to slide beneath your skirt. He picks his head up with a smile.

“You have to go,” He says, half disappointed, looking at the clock on his nightstand, “Eh, it’s only eight thirty, we have a half hour,” And before he pecks at your skin again, you stop him, placing both your hands to his shoulders.

“I know, but, I never finished my homework for O’Donnell, and she’s been up my butt because I’ve been barely making deadlines because of rehearsal, and I need-“

“Okay,” Jason laughs softly, leaning down to kiss your lips to shut you up, “I get it,” He nods, then the air falls quiet for a few seconds before he shrugs, “Feel like it’s been hard to catch you recently, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, taking in his deep blue eyes. With a subtle shake of his head he crinkles his chin.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” He says, dipping his nose down to touch yours, “I just miss you, that’s all, like… miss you.” He raises his brows, making your cheeks blush. Even though he wasn’t talented, his charismatic aura sure had a way of making up for it. 

Plus, sex wasn’t a topic the two of you spoke openly about, it was something that just happened. 

The first time you and Jason went through with the act was the first time either of you had done anything with anyone. So, in a way, you really had no clue if he was bad at it, you had nothing else to compare it to.  Maybe that’s just how sex was, for the guy to get off while the girl laid on her back for seven minutes and kind of enjoyed it.

“I’m sorry,” You repeat yourself, unsure of what else to tell him. Jason’s smile grows.

“You’re cute,” He says, then rolls off you carefully so he can stand on his feet. 

Reaching a hand out for you to take, he helps you up and gives you another kiss before you hurry to slip into your shoes. Smoothing down your shirt and adjusting your skirt, you look over to your boyfriend who’s leaning against his dresser with his arms crossed, wearing a curious expression.

“What?” You ask quietly, freezing under his gaze, your fingers dancing along the hem of your skirt.

“You think you can ask your dad to extend your curfew?” He cocks his head to the side, “It’s been nine o’clock since you were fourteen, we’re eighteen. Nine just seems… A little immature.”

Pointing your eyes down to the floor, you feel your stomach churn at the question. Your curfew was nine o’clock for a reason, Jason knew this.

“I- I can- I dunno,” You stammer, “Jason, you know how he is.”

“I know, I know,” He slightly raises his voice, pushing off the dresser with his shoulder, taking slow steps toward you. His tone brushes off the seriousness in yours. “You’re just… We… We’re adults now.” 

Standing in front of you, arms still crossed, there’s a persuasiveness peeking through his eyes that’s incredibly chilling. Gulping, you nod your head and look back down to the floor at your feet.

“Hey,” Jason’s entire being softens as he reaches for your shoulder, “Look at me,” He’s wearing a smile when you obey his command, “I love you.”

Painting a smile onto your lips, you whisper, “I love you, too,” Confidently enough so that he’ll let you go.

“C’mon,” He gestures to his bedroom door, “I’ll drive you home.”

Walking the fuzzy carpet of his long, grand hallway, the two of you trot down the stairs hand in hand to greet his parents in the kitchen. His mother, who he so closely resembled, was finishing up the dishes from dinner while his father sat at the table reading the newspaper from this morning. Amongst the dark blue cabinets and striped wallpaper, they truly painted the perfect cookie cutter picture.

Your and Jason's footsteps announced your arrival, cutting off his father who was complaining about whatever he was reading, something about the government probably. That’s what all dads in Hawkins seemed to talk about anyway.

“Heading out?” Jason’s mother asks, wearing a red lipstick smile to go with her sage green stretch pants, a matching sweater and her tightly permed curls. Every time you saw Ms. Carver she was done up like she was ready for her picture to be taken.

“Yes, I’m gonna drive her home,” Jason answers. His father lays the newspaper down and clears his throat.

“Son, she wasn’t talking to you,” Raising an eyebrow, Mr. Carver straightens out his glasses as Jason composes his posture. You give him a small smile, one he returns.

“I have homework to catch up on,” You turn to Ms. Carver and sigh, amping up the act. Tossing a dish towel beside the sink, the poised woman turns to face you and props herself against the counter with a hand on her hip.

“You are just too busy, my dear,” She copies your fake exhaustion with a shake of her head, “When is this ballet show of yours?”

“Soon,” You smile, “We perform over spring break, so, a couple weeks.”

“That’s too darn exciting,” Ms. Carver grins, “Jason, you need to stop keepin’ her here! This girl is doing big things,” Jason’s mother leaves her place at the sink, moving closer to you so that she can cup one of your cheeks, “I’m so proud of you,” She says, then looks over to her son, “I’m so proud of both of you. You’ve grown up so much, you’re hard workers, and you’re committed to your faith.”

The reason Jason was allowed to have you upstairs, in his bedroom, with the door closed. You both wore a thin silver band on the ring finger of your left hand.

“Thank you,” You say, without a falter to your exterior, even though on the inside you were sweating.

Jason, an impeccable liar, leans over to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll be back in twenty,” He says, then leads you out to his car as you call out goodbyes to his parents, thanking them for dinner.

The drive home is everything ordinary. If one was to imagine a vanilla version of taking someone home, it was Jason driving his black Jeep Cherokee to your house, walking you to your front door and giving you a kiss on the cheek before saying goodnight to you and your father who met you at the doorstep.

After your fathers hand is shaken, Jason backs away from the door with a smile, then whispers, “Ask him,” with widened eyes. Giving him a small nod, you blow him a kiss and step inside.

“That boy knows all the right things, don’t he?” Your father asks, having found a comfortable spot on the aged living room couch.

Once the door is closed, you take a deep breath before turning around with a smile.

“He does!” You joke with him, taking a couple steps toward him. Eyeing you curiously, your dad sends a crooked smile your way and taps the cushion beside him, hoping you’d sit down with him. With a frown and a head tilt toward the stairs you tell him you have to get to your room.

“Now hold on,” He chuckles, “Just a couple minutes.”

“Okay,” You sigh, “But I’ve got homework, so don’t start any stories.” Mulling toward him, you plop next to him and relax back into the couch.

“Homework for who?” He questions, raising a brow.

“Oh, uh, Miss Click,” You say, your eyes dancing about the homey living room. Your father nods, humming in interest.

“Sure, sure,” He says, “You’re ready for Saturday’s rehearsal?”

Whipping your head at lightning speed, your eyes nearly bug out of your head, “Are you kidding? I’m overly prepared, I’m too prepared, I’m three months past prepared.”

Your father laughs, “I know you are.”

“This show is the make or break moment for me, Dad,” You begin, and his expression shifts to a serious one, “The show has got to be perfect, or I’m in huge trouble”

“Huge trouble?” He asks. You hold up a hand.

“With myself,” You explain, “This spring show is what’s going to get me that scholarship. If I screw it up? I’ll never forgive myself.”

Furrowing his brow, your father hums again.

“I’ve prepared every moment of my life for this,” You begin to speak with your hands, “Everything I’ve done has led me to this performance, and this performance will lead me to my future.”

“And it will take you… where?” He asks happily.

Sucking in a quick breath, you speak loud and clear, “New York City.”

Holding up his hand, you slap your palm against his with a smack.

“Since you were five years old, that’s where you’ve always dreamed of going,” Your father says, “Your mother swore she was going to take you there herself.”

Glancing down to your lap, you sigh at the thought of a dream cut entirely too short.

“No matter how I get there, she’ll be with me,” You say quietly, then look up at him with a small smile, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” He nods, “You aren’t being too hard on yourself are you?” He asks, “Your workload is alright?”

“My teachers all know what my life is like, they’ve been working with me all year,” You reassure him.

“Right,” He shrugs presumptively, “Just making sure. How about physically? You doin’ okay? That ankle been alright?”

Lifting your left foot you give it a couple rolls, feeling the strain on the joint, then press your lips together.

“Nothing to complain about,” You lie, though living a dancer's life you’ve become accustomed to dancing through injuries.

“Okay,” Is the last thing he says before, “Goodnight.”

And once you say it in response, you’re barrelling up the stairs for your bedroom to listen to some music and get ready for bed.

Waking up the next morning is a breeze, it typically always is. With an alarm set for six, you’re leaping out of bed and into the shower for five minutes exact, eight if you had to wash your hair. Today you were pulling it back into a tight, neat bun, so there wasn’t a need to tack on three pointless minutes.

After the shower you’re whizzing back to your room to slip on your clothes for the day, settling for a long sleeved, light blue sweater tucked into a calf length, darker brown maxi skirt, like the one Molly Ringwald wore in The Breakfast Club. 

Even though the movie’s been out for a year, every female everywhere clung to the new it girl, especially the girls here in small town Hawkins, Indiana. They all nearly tore down the department stores searching for that outfit, and a John Bender to go with it. 

When you and a couple of girls from your dance company went out a week or so after seeing the film, you got your hands on a skirt your size and charged your fathers credit card without even asking to buy it. You’d repay him somehow, eventually.

Finishing your outfit off with a pair of boots that matched, you took care of your hair, preparing it for tomorrow's early morning rehearsal, and then you were off down the stairs to meet your father in the kitchen twirling his keys.

“Swear, each day you get earlier and earlier,” He smiles at you, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall above the stove, “It’s six thirty three, I swore I just heard you get up.”

Stepping beside him, you pick a banana up from the basket on the kitchen table and laugh under your breath.

“I’m a dancer, Dad,” You say, peeling the fruit and taking a bite, “I coul’ be rea’y in under uh min-uh if I wan’ed to.” Your father blinks a couple of times, then smiles.

“Would that make you practice better manners?” He jokes, gesturing to your mouth full of banana. Slumping your shoulders, you roll your eyes theatrically even though you know he’s kidding.

With a hard swallow you clear your throat and say, “Are we wasting time talking about my table manners, or are we leaving?”

“We’re leaving,” He snickers, tossing the keys in the air, only to catch them a millisecond later, “Did you finish your homework?” He asks as you follow him through the front door, looking over his shoulder to find you picking off the weird strands that are inside the banana peel, flicking them to the ground.

“I didn’t have any,” You mumble, partially listening to what he was saying. Six thirty in the morning, though you knew how to get ready fast, did not mean your brain was as awake as the rest of you.

Locking the front door, your father frowns, creasing his brow. Like you were his shadow, you waited for him on the step just off of the porch, focused on your makeshift breakfast. He smiles to himself when he turns and finds you standing there without a reason.

“Thought you said you had some work to finish, no?” He tries to ask again, eyeing you curiously while you now walk beside him to the car.

“No, I always make sure I finish assignments days before they’re due when it’s a tech weekend,” You scrunch your face, giving your dad a funny look because he knew this about you. Once you meet his ominous eyes and silly smirk, your brain catches up to reality.

Sliding into the front seat, your eyes are wide, and judging by your fathers laugh, he was two steps ahead of you. 

The car doors are pulled shut at the same exact time, and for the first couple of minutes the two of you ride in silence, aside from the radio.

“Y’know, I thought it was funny, last night, hearing you say you had work due today,” The conversation had finally sparked once you were driving through the heart of Hawkins, passing by the tall, beautiful library. The streets this morning were littered with men and women alike, bustling to get to work, or going for a morning jog now that the weather encouraged them too.

“You believed me,” You mumble, focusing on the trees that were finally turning green, giving the drab town a pop of color. Your father peeks at you with a funny look, one you don’t see.

“Eh,” He sneers, “For a second, maybe,” Shrugging, he turns down a long street, one that will take you straight to the campus that was Hawkins High and Middle School, “But, I’m not the one you had to convince.” He gives you another look, one you reciprocate. 

There’s another silence, a gap of dense air growing so large it could suffocate both you and your father, and the only thing that was going to save either of your lives was if you explained why you had lied to Jason.

“I… I wanted to go home,” You admit quietly, scanning the groups of people that had suddenly come into view now that you were over the hill in the road.

“You wanted to go home,” He repeats, “Okay, why couldn’t you have just told him that? Instead of making things up?”

“Because,” You snap, turning your chin to shoot him a sharp glare. Frowning once more, your father slows down and waits for a couple of kids to cross the street, then pulls into a parking space by the front of the school.

“Because, why?” He asks, egging you on, building up a resentment within you, one that's making you feel guilty for having the thoughts you were.

“Because, Dad, I wanted to go home,” Leaning forward in the chair, you unbuckle and open the visor to check yourself out in the tiny mirror, “I don’t always need a reason.”

“Well, I know that, that’s totally fine, I just want to make sure everything is alright that’s all,” He says, resting his hands on his lap, “Jason’s always a respectable young man when he’s at our place, I mean, I never get to see how he acts at his, so, I’m only being a dad and checking in,” Seeing that you were ignoring him, but not getting out of the car yet, gave him the impression that you had something you wanted to share, you just weren’t ready.

“It’s… fine,” You mutter, pulling a clear lip gloss out of your bag, smearing it on thick. His eyes flicker to the silver band on your left hand, a tiny accessory he had no part in deciding for you to wear.

“Alright,” Your father nods, “Have a good day.”

“Thanks,” Tossing the tube back into your bag, you take a deep breath, flash him your best smile, and jump out of the car to let him get to work.

For years it’s been you and your father against the world. Both of you had a strong bond, a deep connection that was strengthened by the open line of communication you practiced. The man wasn’t high strung in the slightest, he lived a life of peace and ease as best as he could. A majority of your talks end with him telling you, “I’ve been your age before…” or, “When I was a teenager, this was what we’d do…”

A lot of his memories and stories were blamed on all the marijuana he used to smoke with his friends. It shocked you the first time you heard him say it, you had to have been about thirteen years old, but since that day you’ve both shared almost everything with one another. If you were stuck, if you needed assistance with a project, a shoulder to cry on, or boy advice… You knew you could count on your father.

Lying to him last night, and just now in the passenger seat of his car, wrecked your heart. You haven’t told him a lie since you were eight years old, and even then it was you trying to convince him that you didn’t eat a cookie before dinner. 

This Jason situation, that stemmed from your issues in the sack, was not going to be discussed with your father. At least not yet, not until you’ve had a proper amount of time to think things through.

Hopping up onto the sidewalk beneath the awning of the schools pavilion, you keep to yourself though your eyes stay vigilant, searching for a face of familiarity. A smile graces your lips when every other girl you walk by ogles at the skirt that you’re wearing. Normally they’d take a peek at you because you were the girl that was dating Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team. It was a comforting feeling to know that this time, they were seeing you instead of somebody’s girlfriend.

Crossing over the threshold of the double doors, the halls of Hawkins High welcome you with white brick walls and debilitating overhead lighting. Decorations and posters were hung up where it was appropriate, attempting to jazz up the place while ultimately looking like a sad birthday party.

On the bulletin board by the doors, there was a poster for your spring show. You made sure to look at the beautiful print everyday as a reminder to keep yourself going, to keep working hard no matter how tough it seemed. In just three short months you’d be graduating from this prison, and set free in the real world to live your dream… If the show goes according to plan.

Just as you return your focus back down the hall, a human being of average height with short, light brown hair collides into your side, catching you with one of their arms.

“Jesus, Robin!” You exclaim, nearly jumping a mile. Laughing with pride, Robin situates her arm around your shoulders and bites onto her bottom lip.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Her voice was smooth, and easy on the ears, though it had the tendency to sometimes sound a bit deep fried, “I know you look at that thing all the time, daydreaming about your future,” She sing-songs, falling into another fit of giggles.

“I do,” You groan, side eyeing her, “Don’t make fun of me.” Pulling your lips into a small pout, Robin copies you, turning up the theatrics and gives your cheeks a squeeze.

“Oh, my sweet honey bun,” Robin coo’s sarcastically, making you smile, “I’m so sorry.”

“My sweet honey bun,” A green Hawkins High Varsity Basketball jacket appears beside you, slipping an arm around your waist, wedging you between him and Robin. The girl you’ve called your best friend since fifth grade drops her grasp, pulling her arms behind her back, assuming a very well structured stance.

“Jason,” Robin states.

“Robin,” Your boyfriend sends back an equally professional tone.

Smiling as your best friend gives you a sarcastic glare, she taps you on the arm once, glances at the poster on the bulletin board and nods her head.

“I know it’s important to you,” She says, “Steve and I will be there, he’s able to buy the tickets that night right?”

“Yeah, just tell him to bring change, the company’s not known to have any,” You say, and she flashes you a thumbs up before giving Jason a salute and taking off down the hall.

“She’s still hanging around Harrington?” Jason asks, pulling you into his hip tighter as he starts to walk with you to your first class, “I don’t get how they don’t date.”

“Boys and girls can be friends,” You say, looking at your boyfriend for the first time this morning. His hair was slicked back perfectly, and underneath his jacket he wore a white t-shirt and light denim jeans that hugged him in all the right places.

“I know that,” He chuckles, “It’s kinda hard though, someone falls eventually.” Holding back your grin, you simply nod your head.

There were a couple secrets you’ve been sworn to keep, ones that you wouldn’t even share with your father, which means Jason didn’t get to know either. A couple Robin leveled secrets that only you knew, and now Steve, apparently.

“How’d the work go?” Jason returns your look, smiling the second he sees your face, “Hope you weren’t up too late.” 

Everything about him screamed attraction. From his smile, to his hair, to his sparkling eyes, down to the toned body he knew how to keep up with… He was a dreamboat, and every other girl that skipped down these halls wanted a piece. Freshmen came into this school knowing who he was, like the girls your age once knew of Steve Harrington. Jason was a star amidst the solum white brick walls of Hawkins High, a star that, once upon a time, knew how to make your heart skip a beat.

“Something on my face?” He asks you, pausing by your locker. Blinking twice, blankly, he pulls you from your thoughts.

“Oh, uh, no, sorry,” You sigh, starting to toy with the lock, pulling it open after three fancy twists.

“Guess I was right, not much sleep?” He raises a brow, leaning his back against the locker beside yours.

Pulling out two books while Jason gives a wave to a couple of people who said hello to him, you close the metal door with a slam and shake your head.

“Uh, not really,” You manage to choke out another lie. Last night you slept like a rock.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jason says softly, turning to face you. Lifting a hand he drags the back of his fingers daintily across your cheek, placing one beneath your chin to beckon you closer for a kiss.

Closing your eyes, you drift into the comfort, the familiar feeling, the normality of it all, and for a second it feels good, with the potential to feel great, until a six foot tall being is thrown into the mix.

“Gareth!” Comes out of the long, curly, brown haired boy's mouth in a screech as he catches himself on his feet so he doesn’t dive into you and Jason head first.

“Watch it,” Your boyfriend sneers, holding up an elbow to protect you from a collision.

Laughter sounds from across the hall pulling your attention. It’s coming from three boys, a shorter one with light hair, a tall, lanky one with black curly hair, and one that fit right between them in height with a baseball cap on his head.

The one who was almost tossed into you stands up straight with his back facing you, flipping his messy mop backwards.

“I’ll kill you, I will,” He grills his friends from behind his teeth.

Turning around quickly, the boy four inches taller than Jason presses his lips together and acknowledges your boyfriend first.

“My sincerest apologies,” He says, seemingly not sorry at all, “I did not mean to interrupt thou, please, continue,” His deep brown eyes meet yours for half of a second, “Ma’am,” He bows his head and turns away, until he whips body back around, “Wait a sec… I know you,” And before you can process any of it, the tall boy with the curly bangs and leather jacket who was blessed with beautiful brown eyes three shades too deep with absolutely no concept of personal space, your boyfriend was slapping a hand to his shoulder to shove him away.

“Get out of here, freak,” Jason curls his lip in disgust, marking his territory with a cold glare toward the four boys across the emptying hallway. You can feel his hands touch you again, you aren’t too sure where though, your gaze is fixated on the boy who looks like he’s straight out of a movie, who’s own gaze hasn’t left you yet as he tumbles backwards into, you assume, Gareth’s arms.

A jumble of the boys saying, “Let’s go,” to one another can be heard at the same time as Jason asking you if you were alright.

“…Eddie has nothing better to do than prowl the hallways looking for…” 

Eddie. That was his name.

Your boyfriend's voice was going in one ear and out the other as you watched Eddie shamelessly check you out, head to toe, ending on your hooked stare he picked up on fast.

“See you in O’Donnell’s, princess,” Eddie glances down to the skirt you’re wearing and follows his friends without a second look back. With one use of the word, Eddie unknowingly sets you up for disaster.

“Hey, what the hell!” Jason shouts after them.

“My skirt, Jason,” You say, shushing him by grabbing the sleeve of his jacket with the hand that wasn’t balancing your books.

“What’s your skirt have anything to do with what he just called you,” You could almost see the steam blowing out of his ears, “Freaks got some nerve, I swear if I-“

“Jason,” Sighing heavily, you lift your empty hand to slide it around the back of his neck, “The Breakfast Club, the movie? The one with Molly Ringwald?”

“Yeah?” He shakes his head angrily, not following.

“She wears a skirt like this,” You explain softly, feeling like you were calming a toddler’s temper tantrum, “They call her character a princess.” Jason knits his brows together.

“I really didn’t like that movie,” He says, then looks down to your skirt, “And I wouldn’t have picked up on that, that’s a lot of attention to detail, I’m surprised the freak’s got that much mental capacity.”

Jason's arm snakes around your waist like it was a little while ago, and as if on cue, the conversation had shifted to the party tonight, putting your boyfriend in a much happier mood than droning on about movies and Eddie Munson.

Pausing in front of the door of your first class, he finishes what he needs to say, gives you the fastest smooch, then scurries away to the gym.

Watching him hurry off until he’s out of view, you look down at your skirt and take a long deep breath. Personally, you loved the movie, and this skirt was your everything, it made you feel good- no, it made you feel great.

Jason didn’t notice it.

Eddie, the boy you’ve seen vaguely around the halls and in different classes noticed it.

Eddie, the boy who seemed to stir things up within you with a simple look, things your boyfriend couldn’t seem to awaken even if he was actively between your legs.

Standing up straight, adjusting your books on your hip, you take another deep breath and slip inside the door, right into Ms. O’Donnell’s. 

Keeping your gaze fixated on the floor while keeping your chin held high, you beeline across the front of the classroom, turning into the last row of desks that were lined against the windows. Eddie was in this class, a fact you were already aware of. Now aware of another fact, he was going to be somebody you wanted to ignore. Big time.

Your desk was third from the back leaving you wedged between Nancy Wheeler in the desk in front of yours, and Chrissy Cunningham in the one behind.

Passing by Nancy you share a civil smile, something of routine. She wasn’t someone you’d engage in regular conversation with, but every time you’ve had the chance to chat she was nothing but nice.

Robin’s shared facts about the girl with big, owl eyes and permed hair, adding in that she’s got a teeny, tiny crush on her. Those are the words Robin uses, teeny and tiny, though whenever Nancy is the topic, Robin takes an unforgiving form, babbling and droning on and on about how smart she is, or how nice her hair looks.

You paid no mind to your best friend's rants, you knew you were the only one she could talk to, at least about Nancy… She wasn’t a girl she was able to share with Steve.

Just like Nancy, Chrissy Cunningham was another female in Hawkins High you’d avoid voluntary conversation with. The cheerleader had eyes for Jason, so much that sophomore year when your relationship began, you weren’t sure you and Jason were going to make it.

With a high pony and bangs that framed her baby face, she was the one cheerleader everybody wanted, getting to spend hours upon hours with the basketball team. Surely anyone could see why your relationship had such a rocky start, thus creating a deeper meaning for the ring on your and Jason’s left hand.

About to flash her a smile, pettier than the one you gave to Nancy, you find that she’s absent for the day leaving her desk up for grabs, which inevitably enough had to have been snatched up pretty quick. 

Sliding your books on the desk, you press your lips firmly together and release a quiet sigh. 

Deep brown eyes, three shades too dark are gazing back, kicked back in the chair with his lengthy legs stretched out underneath yours. 

“Morning,” He says, smug as anything.

“Morning,” You nod with a slight eye roll, doing your absolute best to keep your eyes on him to assert some type of dominance, not because you were dying to check out the rest of his appearance.

You saw him in the hallway, you got a good look at him. Eddie is the utter opposite of everything you know. 

Dressed in ripped jeans and a leather jacket with a denim vest thrown overtop, he was intimidating. The boy wore rings on nearly every finger, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had some sort of piercing somewhere as well. He has tattoo’s… Multiple. 

Jason once mentioned not too long ago how he cannot believe anyone would want to mark their skin permanently, for life. Partially in agreement, half of you sweats at the idea of making an enormous commitment like a tattoo, but the other half finds it exciting, and just plain cool. It probably had to do with the artist within you, your creative heart longing for another form of creation and inspiration.

In passing, like how you knew he was in this class, you’ve seen one of Eddie’s tattoo’s, the bats on his arm that were each completely blacked out. Barely remembering his name then, you thought of asking him how it felt, and what he endured during the process, just to have the knowledge, not for any other reason… Obviously you’d never gotten around to that.

“Might wanna take a seat, it’s an hour long class,” Eddie says, cocking his head to the side, catching onto you and your curious eyes once again. 

Scoffing, you tear away your gaze embarrassingly fast, hang your bag on the back of your chair and slip into your seat just as Ms. O’Donnell steps inside the classroom.

“Good morning students,” Her monotonous voice carried across the tiled floors, greeting you in a way that everyone felt at half past seven in the morning.

Flipping your textbook open to the last chapter the class had left off on, you lean to the left to pick out a pencil from your bag and find Eddie tapping the bottom of it with his sneaker, making it rock side to side.

“…To chapter twelve, we’ll begin review…” Ms. O’Donnell drones on in the background as you shoot Eddie a cold glare over your shoulder. He maintained a face, wearing the calmest, slyest expression without a smile.

Shoving a hand all the way to the bottom beneath your wallet, under the make up, next to the oval compact mirror you’ve had for years, you finally grab a pencil and slip your hand out quick so you can face forward and ignore Eddie.

Normally he’d be sitting across the room in the last desk in the row, sometimes sleeping. You couldn’t understand why he’d want to sit closer to the windows where the sun would blaze down on him when he could be across the room in the shade like a sleepy little vampire.

Immediately shaking that thought out of your brain and the use of the word ‘little’, you refocus and take a long deep breath, exhaling at the same time as your bag sliding off the back of your chair, hitting the floor in a clobber.

At least four heads turn toward the commotion, including Ms. O’Donnells.

Shutting your eyes momentarily, you compose your being before turning around to pick it up, meeting Eddie’s little smirk.

His feet were now tucked under his own chair, balancing on the toes, creasing the front of his white Reebok’s.

“Apologies,” He says quietly, lowering his brows a bit.

“Don’t worry about it,” You mumble, whipping forward with a vengeance, hoping he’d sense your frustration so he’d leave you alone, but the boy seemed to be relentless. 

Leaning toward his desk to get closer to you, he rests his chest on the wood and whispers, “I have a question.”

You open a notebook to jot down the things Ms. O’Donnell had started to review, putting the new notes below the ones from yesterday. As you scribble as fast as she’s speaking, you hear Eddie tap his fingers on his desk.

With another deep sigh, you stay zoned in on your notes, but whisper, “What?”

He answers right away, waiting somewhat patiently.

“Did you do the homework?” He asks. With a roll of your eyes you nod your head to answer him. That would be what he wants, you’re very prompt with your work and it’s not something you tend to hide.

“‘Course you did,” He seems to snicker.

Turning your chin toward your shoulder, you glare down to his feet and mutter, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“No talking, please!” Ms. O’Donnell cuts in, stopping her sentence about the lesson short.

Shifting around, you resume your note taking and active listening.

About ten minutes pass in peace, but as you raise your hand to answer the third question your teacher has asked, you hear another sound of a quiet laugh from behind you.

Snapping your hand back down to your side you let another student answer this one, using the time to turn around to address the situation you were in.

Staring out the window, nibbling on the nail of his thumb, Eddie is smiling, shaking his head the slightest bit.

“Can you shut up?” You sneer, keeping your volume under control.

Dropping his hand to his lap, he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and looks at you. Like sweet caramel, his eyes were truly a sight to get lost in, and when they shift over to your angry brows the way they make your stomach flip riddles you with nerves.

“I can’t help it,” He says.

“Well, get it together,” You finally glance down to the shirt he’s wearing under his jacket- a white Motley Crue tour t-shirt from 1983, with big orange letters and the four members of the band in the center. Your dad went to that concert, you remember spending the night at Robin’s so that he could go.

Eddie glances down at his tee, flickering only his eyes up to you.

“You like them?” He asks, his demeanor changing to much nicer than before. Looking at him, you part your lips to speak but struggle to find the words.

“My dad went to the- I mean, yeah, they’re cool, my dad, listens,” You manage to whisper.

“Do we have a problem back there?” Ms. O’Donnell calls out to the two of you. You would have broken your neck with how quick you turned to her.

“Sorry, no,” You say, obtaining the third condescending laugh from behind your back.

Telling yourself you were going to ignore Eddie and his immature pestering for the next fifty minutes, he whispers four words that send a shock down your spine, “Such a good girl.”

There wasn’t a soul in Hawkins who has ever said such a thing to you. It was a simple sentence, one that people everywhere say in a meaningless, innocent matter. You’ve heard people say it to their pets, their cars even, those four words, specifically the two at the end, were not supposed to make you sweat.

Eddie oozed sexual energy, that much was clear. A cocky, confident aura was alluring, you were with Jason for god's sake, but Eddie was also self aware, and that turned the sexiness up to the nth degree. There wasn’t ever a moment he seemed to be pretending, he was who he was, and it didn’t look like he had a problem with that.

For all you know, he could say those things to anybody. He’s never been spotted with a girl, or guy, whatever he may like, you don’t know a thing about his life, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t exactly getting any action either.

Walking the halls of Hawkins as if he owned the place, looking like the bad boy heartthrob of any movie, it was impossible to not think about, or at least be intrigued by his sex life, if he had one.

Someone who uses words like ‘good girl’ in such an easy manner had to have one. That type of sentence doesn’t come out of thin air. It comes from practice.

Ms. O’Donnell’s voice fades into the background, your thoughts now clouded because of the boy sitting behind you. 

Shifting in your seat, crossing your legs, you glance up to the clock momentarily and find fifteen minutes have passed. Fifteen minutes of the teacher talking that you haven’t heard, and a quarter of an hour of missed notes.

Tapping the eraser of your pencil on the desk, you look to it as your lips part in surprise. The pink, rubber end was covered in teeth marks, completely chewed up. 

“What the…” Tumbles from your lips, lifting the pencil for a closer look.

“You were going to town on that thing,” Eddie whispers. Uncrossing your legs to cross the other on top, you shift in your seat again, blinking what seemed like a trillion times to help you ignore the distraction that should not be a distraction.

Eddie should be easy to ignore, he’s the type of guy you want to ignore. You grow up hearing stories about people like him, and how they’re the kind of people you shun out of society because they don’t do it any good unless they shape up and become better citizens.

Conditioned to ignore and shun, you cannot begin to imagine, or logically think why you have the deepest urge to turn around and engage with the jerk.

That’s what he is, a jerk. He saw you kissing Jason in the hallway, that has to be the reason why he’s chosen to suddenly taunt you when he’s been sitting in the same class with you all year. Eddie and your boyfriend have some unexplained rift between them, probably the clashing of societal values or something, you're sure Jason has mentioned it before, so that’s got to be the reason why.

It’s a part of the feud. Eddie is trying to get to him through you.

With a deep breath, you place the pencil on your book.

“I’ve never seen you this fidgety before,” Eddie eggs on, “Everything alright?” The stealthiness can be heard in his voice, like you were already aware of, he knew what he was doing.

“Just totally annoyed,” You mutter over your shoulder. Eddie laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” He smiles, “I’m sure you are.”

At the front of the classroom, Ms. O’Donnell places stacks of paper on each desk in the first row to be passed backward. Nancy stretches a slender hand behind her, not bothering to turn around to deliver the sheets face to face. Accepting them with a soft, “Thank you,” you take one and hand the remainder to Eddie, copying Nancy’s technique, unintentionally flashing the ring on your finger to the boy.

“What is that?” He asks with grandeur as the class falls into a quiet chatter while everyone begins their work.

“What is what?” You sigh, writing your name at the top of your paper.

To your left, a hand is held out to you. Eddie wiggles his ring finger when you look down to it.

The sight of his boney, callused fingers strikes a bolt of lightning through your chest. All four fingers were adorned with chunky, silver rings of different shapes and creatures you didn’t dare to ask more about- though you wanted to.

Swallowing hard, you peek at him and raise an eyebrow, “My ring?”

“Yeah, that,” He says, nodding, stretching his neck to catch another look.

Holding up your left hand, you widen your eyes and slightly curl your lip.

“What about it?” You ask, your tone flat.

Eddie stares at the silver band, taking it in for a second before he starts to smile.

“You and the jock married or something?” He jokes, looking at you, leaning further onto his desk so he was just about laying on it. His hand was still stretched out beside you, dangling next to your torso.

“Not married,” You state with persistence, making Eddie snort.

“Damn,” He chuckles, “Someone better warn him to take his time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t sound too happy about marrying him, that’s all.”

Scoffing, you say, “I’m eighteen, we’re eighteen, we have plenty of time to think about getting married.”

“So, it’s what, a promise ring, or something?” Eddie continues to dig.

“Why do you care?” Turning around, you sit sideways in your desk and choose not to pay attention to his hand that’s now hanging above your lap that didn’t even flinch as you twisted.

Resting his head on his arm, his bangs swish to the side, the new angle making his eyes appear even larger, more soft.

Eddie shrugs his shoulders and glances around before planting his gaze on you, saying, “You both wear them, everybody talks about it.” You stop yourself from widening your eyes.

“Ev… Everybody?” You ask, hushed. Eddie nods.

“Your lover boy feeds off the energy of everybody else in case you haven’t realized,” Eddie smirks. Snapping your eyes to your lap, and evidently Eddie’s hand, you take a breath.

“I’ve realized,” You roll your eyes, to which Eddie picks his head up.

“Ah, hah,” He grins, “You aren’t happy.”

“I never said that,” You grill, giving him a cold stare. Eddie nibbles his bottom lip, sitting back in his chair, moving his hand from in front of your body.

“You didn’t have to,” He winks.

Groaning loud enough that Nancy gives you a look, you twist forward in the chair and hunch over the worksheet you’ve yet to start. 

Sure, you weren’t thrilled about where you were in your relationship with Jason right now, but it was only due to the fact that you were under immense pressure in every aspect of your life.

When the spring show was over, when finals had passed, when the light of graduation could be seen at the end of the tunnel- That’s when things with Jason would get better. You’d have the proper time to care for and nurture your relationship.

You weren’t about to let Eddie Munson find all of this out, then your business could be spread to everyone in these halls.

“Hey,” Eddie says, reaching a hand out to tap your shoulder, startling you.

“What?!” You furrow your brows and whip your head around, “Don’t touch me.” Lifting a hand, you hold the spot he tapped.

“Right,” Eddie’s eyes go wide like you’ve frightened him. Tucking his hand to his chest he nods, “Shit, you’re right, I’m sorry.”

Relaxing your shoulders, you watch his entire demeanor change before your eyes.

“It’s… It’s fine,” You say.

“No it’s not,” Eddie narrows his eyes, “I should’ve had your permission,” The two of you share a few moments of quiet, Eddie seeming like he was trying to read your mind, “You know that right?” His softened gaze returns, wide puppy dog eyes. It draws you in, shifting your body halfway around.  Incredible, how the boy could shift between both personas at the drop of a hat.

“Know what?” You question, and he sighs, folding his hands on his lap. 

“Jesus Christ, he’s more of a twat than I imagined,” Eddie mumbles, barely audible.

“Excuse me?” You ask genuinely, not having heard half of what he said, only ‘he’s’ and ‘twat’, which was almost enough to piece together who he was talking about.

Thinking to himself, Eddie ponders over his response with care. Sitting forward once more he presses his lips together tight and exhales subtly.

Inches apart, you can make out every little spot on his face, every line, and every scar that held incredulous history. A faint squiggle beneath his curly bangs that almost slices through his left brow catches your eye.

“He’s nice to you,” Eddie pauses, watching you study his imperfect complexion, “Right?”

“Who?” You mumble, drawing your eyes across his forehead to a freckle on the side of his jaw. The corners of Eddie’s lips threaten to perk up under your surveillance.

“Uh, your man?” He chuckles. 

Right, Jason.

Clearing your throat, you turn your attention to your knees and nod. Really fast.

“He’s nice to me?” You blurt out.

“I’m asking you, sweetheart,” Eddie smiles. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sigh and shake your head.

“Jeez,” You whisper, then pop open your eyes to give him the best sure of yourself smile you could, “Jason’s nice to me, of course he is.”

Nodding slow, Eddie raises his eyebrows, “Course he is.”

“He is,” You restate, insisting on the matter further, “Treats me like a saint.”

Eddie scoffs under his breath, “Yeah, I’m sure he does.”

“Shut up.”

“Just saying,” Eddie shrugs, “No one wears rings like those,” He glances to your hand, “Unless they’re not having sex.”

Gasping aloud, you throw a look around the room to see if anyone had heard him, but everyone was focused on themselves, even Nancy Wheeler. Feeling your cheeks warm, you take your time to face his smug little smirk.

“Promise ring,” Eddie says, then shrugs again, “Purity ring, what’s the difference, huh?” His tone is nonchalant, all too calm to be discussing this topic with a blatant stranger.

“It is not a purity ring,” You whisper, leaning toward him, lowering your brows above your eyes. Eddie copies you.

“Oh, okay, then why do you both wear them?”

“Because they’re… promise rings, for each other.”

Eddie pulls a face of disgust, “You could’ve picked nicer rings if that’s really what they are.”

“We didn’t get to choose them,” You grit your teeth.

“Why not?” 

“Why does it matter?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Why wouldn’t you get to pick out your own promise rings?”

“Because!”

“Because why?”

“Because! His parents-“

Cutting yourself short, not realizing that both of you were leaning further into one another, you zip your lips shut and sit straight up. Eddie doesn’t move, instead, the smile that's gracing his lips grows.

“Finish the sentence,” He says. Ripping your eyes from his for a second, you shake your head. “Come on, finish the sentence.”

“No,” You mutter.

“Interesting,” Eddie squints, still grinning like a fool, “Is it ‘cause I’m not of importance that you won’t listen to me? Finish the sentence.”

“What do you mean by that,” You say, locked onto his gaze.

“I mean, that you listen to everybody when they tell you to do something. You do the homework, you participate in class, you follow the rules, you’re-“

“A good student?” 

“A good girl.”

There were those words again, the ones that chill your spine. The words that definitely came from practice, because you watched them as they tumbled from his lips with ease in real time this time, they weren’t muttered from behind you. He said them with his chest.

They make you feel funny, almost uncomfortable, but only due to the fact that this was how Jason was supposed to make you feel.

Every intimate night you’ve spent with your boyfriend, he reached and reached for this feeling unsuccessfully.

Eddie did it in two words.

Stupidly self aware, Eddie brings his bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a nibble, happily watching your eyes follow. As the sound of what seems like a laugh leaves him, you look up into his disgustingly sweet brown eyes.

“Finish the sentence,” He says, lowering his chin a bit. 

Obliging to his request in a heartbeat, you speak quietly, “His parents got them for us, they were blessed at the church with the promise we’d… remain loyal to our faith and wait until we were married to engage in any sexual behavior.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie laughs, “So you’re a liar, it’s a purity ring.”

There was no need for you to prove yourself to him, there wasn’t a reason for this conversation to be had. Deep down inside of you, a small part of your conscience was screaming at you to turn around, to utterly ignore Eddie and anything he tried to do to you, but for some unforeseen, goddamn reason, you were feeling masochistic, and enjoying this.

“It’s a purity ring to his parents,” You say.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He sings, “Hold on.”

“Holding,” You nod, a bubble of confidence manifesting within you. Not that you cared a lick if Eddie Munson knew you were having sex.

“Are you telling me you lied to his parents?” He asks. You nod in response. “You made them believe that you’re wearing rings blessed by the Gods, promising that you won’t engage in sexual behaviors, only to do the opposite, and betray them, and all of the Gods and their royal subjects.”

“There’s only one God.”

“Who says? Jason?”

“Eh, kinda-“

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie shakes his curls as if to shake away the matter, “You have sex, and all this time I thought you and Jason were going celibate for life.” Laughing for half a second, you wipe the smile clean off of your face and raise an eyebrow.

“Why do you care?” You question.

“Cause… you’re you, you’ve been untouchable for as long as I can remember, living your holier than thou life comfortably. It’s just interesting,” It’s Eddie’s turn to study your face, bringing the warmth back to your cheeks.

“Holier than thou,” You whisper, “What?”

“Right, since you’ve been living so comfortably you may not have realized that we live in two different worlds,” Eddie smiles sarcastically.

“Is that what this is?” You scrunch your face as a thousand different emotions shuffle through your mind, “You’re- You’re messing with me, when you’ve never once paid any attention to me, mind you, because you’re- you’re… pissed?! Pissed that I live my life, what, differently than you live yours?”

While you spoke Eddie sat up completely, pressing his back flat against his chair. Folding his hands together on the desk in front of him, he clears his throat dramatically and eyes his rings.

“Wrong, and wrong,” He looks up at you, keeping his chin pointed down.

Placing a fist on his desk you tilt your head with a glare, encouraging him to explain without needing to ask.

“You really are wrapped up in your life,” He says, lowering his voice drastically, “You are so clean cut, so precise about things that it boggles my mind. When was the last time you did something off schedule?”

You shrug, and Eddie chuckles.

“Exactly,” He nods, “Walking around this place, you’ve got, like, hyper focus or some shit, not giving anyone else an ounce of attention. Well, except for the boyfriend,” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Can we get to the point?” You grill.

“You sound like my dad,” He jokes, cocking his head sideways. His bangs brush away from the scar on his brow again, drawing your gaze toward it.

“And you sound like you’re jealous of my work ethic,” You say quietly.

Eddie raises a hand to adjust his hair, muttering, “Stop,” in the process, causing you to snap your eyes back to his and reach out your hand.

“Sorry, I just-“

The hand he tousled his soft bangs with rests on top of yours, but not on purpose. His fingers are warm, and coupled with the coolness of his metal jewelry, the touch is borderline electric.

At the same time, you and Eddie glance down to where your hands met and jump apart as if the gentle graze was radioactive.

Tucking your hands into your lap, you stare down at your shoes, the boots you chose to wear with the infamous skirt that caught Eddie’s attention. Following your lead, Eddie pulls his hands under his desk, wedging them beneath his thighs. 

There’s a minute of quiet between you while the class radiates its own subtle chatter. 

It should feel awkward, having touched one another in total innocence on accident while only being acquainted, but it’s not. 

Everything about this situation as a whole should be awkward, but it’s not.

Thinking about what he said before he planted his palm over yours, you admit to yourself that he was right. You were uptight about the way you maneuvered school, but it was all for a reason he knew nothing about. It was obvious why it seems like you ignored others and kept pushing through, you had an entire other life Eddie didn’t know you lived.

He doesn’t know your father, doesn’t know it’s just the two of you at home, doesn’t know how important your dancing is, and doesn’t know about the pressure hanging over your shoulders because of the upcoming show.

Your future, your college decision and scholarship opportunities were riding on how well the show goes. So, if you appeared uptight to other students in the hall, you weren’t too sure you cared all that much.

Though, that doesn’t mean the pressure wasn’t becoming too much to handle. As right as Eddie Munson was, part of you wished he wasn’t.

Part of you also wishes to tell him that you’ve noticed him before this moment, just like he’s been hinting at noticing you. 

He’s always been hard to ignore.

Eddie’s way of life appealed to you like no other. Laidback, relaxed, no anxiety about the future- just purely living in the moment and enjoying it with the people he cared about.

Every moment in your life has felt like a brick to get you to the next step, like life was a game of chess and each move was calculated with precision for ultimate success. It was… precise, like Eddie said.

“Y’okay?” He mumbles, knocking you out of your thoughts, bringing you back into reality. Giving his concerned brows a quick glance, you take a breath and nod, then turn around to face the front of the room, picking up your pencil.

“The bell is about to ring,” Ms. O’Donnell shouts above the noise, “I need these papers on my desk as you walk out, double check your work, please!”

Darting your eyes up to the clock, your heart rate skyrockets. The entire hour of class, gone.

“These quizzes are important, I let you use your books and your friends, they should be complete.”

“Oh, shit,” You whisper, skitzing out as you hunch over your paper to start the work assigned to you ages ago, but the second your pencil begins to scribble, the bell rings.

Your classmates leap from their desks as the noise grows louder and the door swings open. Wide eyed, and probably in shock, you look up to Ms. O’Donnell sitting at her desk staring right back at you. She presses her lips together, firm, and sends a disappointed look to you- and the boy behind you.

“Guess we fucked up,” Eddie sighs. Standing up in ease, he slaps a hand on his quiz and snatches it off the desk, mulling up to the teachers desk. His sneakers slap on the tile floor to every third beat of your racing heart. 

“Can I please see both of you,” Ms. O’Donnell takes the blank paper from Eddie, sending you another glare.

Gathering your belongings, sliding your bag over your shoulder, you hold the quiz between your fingers tight to keep your hands from shaking. Approaching Eddie’s side, you hand over the incomplete work with a worried frown.

The woman before you snatches the paper with vigor, eyeing you from behind the glasses that were perched on the tip of her nose. She takes a look at the quiz you’ve given her, and sighs, seeing only your name written at the top.

“At least you had the decency to write your name, Mr. Munson didn’t even give me that,” Ms. O’Donnell perks up a brow, glancing to Eddie momentarily before redirecting her attention to you. “I expect this behavior from him.  Not from you,” She says, her tone laced with disappointment, “This is Eddie’s everyday, not yours.”

Looking over at the boy towering beside you, you find him staring at her desk with an emotionless, empty gaze. 

You wondered how many teachers said this about him, he didn’t even seem surprised. He appeared as if he’s heard this about himself for ages, like… he was entirely self aware. You guess that talent was apparent in every aspect of his life.

That part of you, the one that wanted to interact with Eddie while he was causing this problem, started to feel bad for him. Teachers can be such assholes, this much you know, but to belittle someone in front of themselves, and another, is a different type of assholery.

“I’m so sorry,” You say, your voice wavering with every syllable, “Ms. O’Donnell, you know me, I didn’t do this on purpose I was just-“

Pausing, you turn both of their heads, Eddie and Ms. O’Donnell.

“Just what?” She asks, exhaling heavily.

“Uh,” Stammering, you glance up to Eddie once more, shaking your head, “Distracted,” You mutter, looking to your teacher for some sympathy, and like you did with your father this morning, you lie your ass off, “With my spring show coming up, and rehearsals happening more often, I think my brain needed… needed a second of distraction from the stress, I think it even happened subconsciously, you know I wouldn’t do it-“

Maybe you weren’t lying.

“Okay,” Ms. O’Donnell holds up a hand, cutting you off abruptly, “I get it, but this is an important grade, I don’t want you to miss this assignment.”

“I don’t want to miss it either,” You say.

“Eddie, you should make it up as well,” Your teacher nods her head once, gesturing a hand toward the boy, “Would do you good to have a completed grade? Yeah?”

Slightly shrugging, Eddie nods, and mumbles, “Course.”

“Here’s what we can do,” Ms. O'Donnell begins, “You both can meet me here tomorrow, at this time, and I will let you take the quiz together with the same amount of time as everyone else,” Your heart sinks to your knees.

“No, no,” You speak up, “I have a rehearsal tomorrow, it’s going to be running all day, I can’t do that.” Eddie gives you a curious look.

Folding her hands, your teacher smiles, “It’s fine. Why don’t you take this home with you, finish it tonight, or this weekend, and return it to me Monday morning.”

“Deal,” You blurt out, making Eddie laugh, “I mean, yes, please, yes. I’ll have it done tonight.”

“Wonderful,” Ms. O’Donnell’s eyes switch between you and Eddie as she says, “And maybe you should work on it together,” You and Eddie snap your necks to look at each other, “Everyone worked with some type of partner today, it’d only be fair if you did the same.”

The thought of Eddie Munson coming to your house, or vice versa, twisted your stomach in knots. It’s not that you were worried something would happen, or that he would try to make something happen… It was the fear of telling Jason. 

He would absolutely, one thousand percent, request to be in attendance, and if that were the case, no work would get done. Your boyfriend would spend the entire time ridiculing the boy who didn’t seem all too bad.

Eddie knew how to push buttons, but he didn’t have a problematic energy to him.

Looking at him now, his eyes are just as wide as yours.

“Uh, that’s, uh, up to you,” Eddie clears his throat, shifting in his sneakers a bit, “I can be here tomorrow, we don’t have to do it together.”

He was giving you an out. Self-aware of the fact that you two didn’t belong hanging out with one another, or reading the fear on your expression, letting you make the decision.

You had a Jason. A Jason that caused Eddie a lot of problems. It made sense why he wouldn’t want to do the assignment with you, but the deepest piece of you wished he would’ve taken initiative and agreed with the second option Ms. O’Donnell gave you straight away.

It was wrong. There’s no way in hell you and Eddie would get along outside of these cinder block walls, he said the words himself, you live in two different worlds.

Your perfect, pristine way of life was no match for his lap of luxury.

But it was so, so, enticing.

Turning to Ms. O’Donnell, you give her a small smile and say, “We’ll figure it out, thank you,” and brush by Eddie to start for the door.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie mumbles to your teacher, then scrambles after you. Ms. O’Donnell watches the exit with an eyebrow raised, the unlikely pair hurrying out of her classroom, one she would’ve never seen coming. Eddie Munson never thanked a teacher before in his life.

“Hey, wait, hey,” Eddie calls after you as he pushes past people in the hall.

“I can’t be late to my next class,” You mutter, peering behind you as he trips over his own foot, stumbling beside you, “You really can’t stay on your feet can you?”

“Nope,” Eddie sighs, “I wasn’t born with spacial awareness like you, okay Miss Perfect?”

“You gonna follow me all the way to English?” You question snarkily, side eyeing him.

“Mm,” Eddie hums, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Don’t think so, you're not the stalking type.”

Your jaw drops, “Excuse me?”

Eddie laughs, “You're predictable, that’s all.”

“I am not predictable,” You state, and watch Eddie weigh the possibilities, tilting his head side to side making his curls go astray, “I’m not!” Pausing your speed walk, you turn to face him, the other students parting around the two of you.

“You kinda are,” Eddie raises his eyebrows, speaking carefully, “I know exactly what you’re gonna do for the rest of the day, and no, it’s not weird, because I could stop any one of these soulless assholes and they’d be able to tell us the same thing.” He gestures to your surroundings, encouraging you to take a peek.

Taking a deep breath, you try to not let him get under your skin, that seems to be his aim of the game.

“Well, I’d rather be predictable than unreliable,” You sneer, looking him dead in the eyes, “I could also stop anyone of these soulless assholes and I’m sure, without a doubt, they’d tell us the same thing.” Narrowing your eyes, you're surprised to see a fire ignite in his. 

Wearing a crease in his brow, Eddie represses a smile. Your intent to hurt him, or bruise his ego, has only done the opposite. He’s impressed.

“Are we doing the assignment together, or not?” He asks, glued to your glare.

“That depends,” You deter, stepping closer to him, “If I’m so predictable, what do you think I’m going to say?”

Eddie’s smirk leaks onto his lips, “You want to say no,” He begins strong, and you can feel your defeat on the rise, “And you think I expect you to say no, but now, in this case of predictability and being worried you’re becoming a stereotype… You’re gonna say yes.”

A sharp inhale from you makes him laugh.

“Oh, and I think your panties are in a twist for two reasons. One, you have to tell your boyfriend where you’ll be, and he hates my guts, and two, I’ll be proving you wrong… Twice.”

Your cheeks warm, fueling your annoyance for the boy you have to look up to. At least Jason was nearly eye level, talking to Eddie this way made it all the more condescending.

“Did I get it?” He asks cockily, “Did I win?”

Gritting your teeth, you say, “Meet me in the middle school parking lot after the last bell. Then we’ll see if I’m the one who’s right.”

Storming away from the imperfectly alluring boy, you point your nose forward and hurry toward your next class.

“Good luck breaking the news to your boy toy!” Is called after you, spurring your feet on to move faster.

You wouldn’t see Jason until lunch. That gave you at least another two hours to come up with a convincing story as to why you’d be missing his party. Eddie’s name wouldn’t even be mentioned, it’d be a little white lie, something you were excellent at creating these days.

What you didn’t see coming was the uncountable times you’d have to come up with one because of Eddie, and it was only a quarter past eight in the morning.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece! 

feedback is always greatly appreciated & is huge for artists. 

we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

& if you’d like to support my writing, buy me a coffee here! <3

[drabbles-mc]

It'll Get Done

Richie Jerimovich & F!Reader

Find Part 2 Here

Warnings: 18+, language, the lightest sprinkle of angst, takes place during s1

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Yes. I am neglecting all of my other ficly responsibilities because I got hit with this nugget of an idea at 6am today. Yes, I am already planning more for the two of them. No, I don't know the details of what that's going to entail. But feel free to enjoy this in the meantime 😂

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @ashlingnarcos @hausofmamadas @narcolini @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You were the only one at the restaurant. You had your headphones in, the bare minimum number of lights on—just enough so that you were able to see what you were doing and not accidentally chop off the tips of your fingers. You had no good reason to be there, to be prepping, but you’d slept like shit the night before and you were sick of laying on your mattress staring up at the ceiling of your apartment. So here you were, apron on, headphones in, trying to play your music loud enough to drown out the thoughts in your head.

Other people started to trickle in. If they were talking to you, you didn’t hear them. Clearly no one had anything pressing to talk to you about since none of them stopped to explicitly try to get your attention. You were in the zone, and by this point you all had fallen into a flow with one another. You could all practically move through that kitchen with your eyes closed. You clocked everyone out of the corner of your eye. They’d reach over and around you as needed, and you just stayed in your lane.

You were halfway through carefully picking up the celery you’d finished chopping to put it in its own Tupperware when someone reached and placed their hand over the top of the container to thwart your efforts. You huffed out a deep sigh, not needing to turn and look to know who it was. His voice was hardly breaking through the music blaring from your headphones, and that’s how you knew your music must’ve been loud.

With his other hand, Richie reached and plucked one of the headphones out of your ear. “Yo! You hear me now?!”

“Move your hand before I slice it off, Richie,” you snapped, sounding more exasperated than actually angry.

“What’s got you so pissed off today?”

“Some asshole I work with won’t let me finish my fucking prep,” you replied back with no hesitation.

“Prep?” Richie scoffed, finally moving his hand so you could continue with what you were doing. “Looks more like a massacre.” He loomed in a little closer. “Hey, listen babe, the produce guy is gonna stop sellin’ to us if he sees how you’re treating his celery every time your boyfriend pisses you off. Which is a lot lately.”

You rolled your eyes but no matter how much you wanted to shrug it off like it didn’t bother you, you could still feel the tightness in your jaw as it involuntarily clenched at the mere mention of your boyfriend.

“C’mon, tell me,” Richie chided, leaning against the counter like other chefs weren’t going to need the space. “What’d he do this time?”

You didn’t want to get into it. You didn’t want to get into it at work. You didn’t want to get into it at work with Richie of all people. That was half the reason you showed up to the restaurant at the ass-crack of dawn. Shaking your head, you tried to stay as neutral as possible as you said, “Nothing, Richie.”

“That’s always his fuckin’ issue though, right? Never does shit. Never comes by the restaurant, never fuckin’ takes you—”

“I’m not getting into this right now, alright? I got,” you gestured to the counterspace on the other side of you that was occupied by the rest of your prep, “shit to do.”

“I think you’ve murdered enough vegetables for now.”

“Rich—”

“Cousin!” Carmy interjected, annoyance dripping from his voice. “Leave her alone. She’s right—we got shit to do.”

Richie waved him off. “Then keep doin’ your shit.” He motioned back and forth between himself and you. “We’re trying to have a conversation here. Work out some big life problems.”

Carmy weaved his way by you, calling out a half-hearted behind before saying, “No offense, but I don’t really give a shit about your breakup right now, or whatever else it is. We open in—”

“She knows when we fucking open,” Richie said with a laugh. “She worked here before you did, you fu—”

“Enough!” you cut them both short. You looked over at Carmy. “I always get my shit done. It’ll get done.”

Two seconds of tense silence passed among the three of you before Carmy finally stepped away. He didn’t say anything else, and much to your surprise Richie didn’t call out anything after him trying to drag out the argument. You were almost wondering if he was just going to leave you alone too, but you knew better.

“So,” Richie finally turned back to you once Carmy had disappeared into the office, “what’d Thomas the Tank Engine do this time?”

You laughed despite your annoyance with your boyfriend, despite your annoyance with Richie. “His name isn’t—”

“I’m not calling that jagoff by his name. It’s not even a real—”

“It’s a real name,” you argued as you got back into your prep, although you weren’t quite sure why this was the hill you were choosing to die on with Richie. You were pissed off with your boyfriend, after all. Thomas the Tank Engine was much nicer than some of the things you’d been calling him in your head over the last twelve hours.

“It’s not.”

“Trent is a real—”

“Who the hell names their kid Trent? It’s like his parents knew he was gonna be an asshole. Hell, the second you told me his name a few months ago I knew—”

“You think every guy I date is an asshole!”

“And I’ve never been wrong!” Even though you were both yelling at each other, you were still laughing too. You were shaking your head, being marginally nicer to the carrots you were chopping as Richie watched you work. “What happened? Do I gotta go and beat Tiny Tim’s ass?”

Your head dropped back as you laughed. “You’re awful.” Taking a breath, you shook your head at him. “But no. You do not have to go and beat his ass.”

“You finally break up with him?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t I gotta go beat his ass?”

You were smiling as you shook your head, packing up the next leg of your prep. “Because despite what you might think, that’s actually not the right response every time something doesn’t go according to plan. No matter how many times you and Carmy try to resolve something with a goddamn wrestling match.”

“Which I always win, by the way,” Richie commented with a grin that was far too smug for his own good.

“That’s no great feat—neither of you can fight for shit.”

He stepped back, looking as offended as ever. “Hey, I—”

“I love you,” you shook your head as you cleared your station, “but you can’t fight. You can fight better than Carmy, but you still can’t fight.” You chuckled. “It’s a good thing you have a gun.”

He wanted to look genuinely annoyed but he started laughing instead. “Fuck you.” Leaning in, he pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head before finally deciding to move on to the next person and let you get back to your job. “Tell Tinkerbell if he ever shows up here, his ass is grass though, alright?”

You laughed and nodded. “I’ll be sure to relay the message.”

Richie was either satisfied with your response, or someone new in the kitchen caught more of his attention because he turned and walked away. You couldn’t stop laughing and shaking your head at him as he started in on Marcus next on the other side of the kitchen. Reaching up, you carefully pulled the other headphone out of your ear, letting them drape over your shoulders for the time being. Nothing had really changed but suddenly listening to the chaos and shouting and laughter in the kitchen seemed preferable to the blaring music that had been rattling around your head all morning.

Your prep was done, your station cleaned, phone and headphones tucked back away in your locker where you usually kept them, when Carmy called out, “Five minutes to open, Chefs!”

In almost-unison, everyone called back, “Yes, Chef!”

Except for Richie, who called back something perfectly nonsensical that got lost in the midst of all the rest. You had no idea if Carmy had actually heard the words or if his call-back of, “Richie, you can still go fuck yourself,” was just routine now.

It was dangerously close to the end of the five-minute mark when Richie came bounding back through the kitchen, shrugging on his jacket as he went. He clapped you on the shoulder as he slipped by you. “Keep being nice to those vegetables while I’m gone, Chef.”

You couldn’t hide your confusion at the fact that he was leaving just as the place was about to open. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta go talk to a buddy about this thing,” he said, gesturing with his thumb back over his shoulder.

“Sounds really important, yeah,” you replied sarcastically.

He was walking backwards out of the kitchen as he said, “Drinks on me tonight after work.”

You sighed, head dropping so that you were looking down at the floor. “Richie—”

“Then you can give me the whole low-down on whatever the fuck Tom and Jerry did yesterday.”

You laughed, knowing that you weren’t going to get out of it. Finally, you gave in with a nod. “Alright, yeah, okay. Long as you don’t get lost on your way back from the place after you do the thing,” you motioned vaguely towards the door with the knife in your hand.

Richie chuckled, a genuine smile passing over his face. “See? You’re finally getting it. Only took how long?” Then he disappeared through the door, gone and out of earshot before you could fire back at him.