#86 more hours.....sighs

[pennjammin]

wanna see what your insides look like.ᐟ

JJKHALLOWEEN! chosoxreader

to sum it up. you got tickets to a live Scream experience, where you’ll be chased by the infamous Ghostface through a dark wood. but the idea of being alone with the character arouses you more than it scares you. lucky for you, though, Ghostface is totally on board.

CONTENT (MDNI): friends to lovers, smut, switch!choso, afab!reader, prop knife, fake blood, masochism kindaaa, overstim, 86’d the sorcery (modern au), breeding, exhibitionism

word count. 7k

soundtrack 💿: RUNRUNRUN - dutch melrose

divider @saradika

“Please come, Cho. I need you to come.”

An exasperated breath comes from the other end of the phone. You’re sure your best friend is shaking his head, trying to come up with a way to let you down gently, because he’s incapable of being mean.

“I wanna,” he says honestly. “I know that Scream is our thing… but I’ve gotta take this shift for the extra money. I promise to make it up to you, kay? How about a movie night when I get off?”

You huff. You know this is reasonable collateral, but your heart still aches because you’ll be missing out on the Scream experience with your best friend in the entire world; the only person who truly understands the place the movie series holds in your heart.

“A movie night with face masks,” you correct him.

He grins from the other line. “Deal. Have fun tonight. Tell Satoru to not be a little bitch.”

You grin back. “Level: impossible. But will do. Love you, Cho.”

He pauses for a minute before replying. “I love you too. Later.”

The phone hangs up and you are unable to shake the pressure in your chest. You really shouldn’t be this sad; you’ll be with the rest of your friends. But they aren’t Cho.

You sigh and begin to get dressed; a blood-red low cut tank top, black plaited skirt, ‘nets, and thick running boots. Red lipstick tied everything together, as well as your hair in two ponytails with ribbons.

Hours pass and soon, night falls. Your friends arrive to collect you, and you all make it to the sight of the attraction in no time, both fear and excitement bubbling within you.

You ride down a long, long driveway, nothing but trees surrounding the acre of attractions, stalls and decorations. At the end, there is a large arch with an inflatable ghostface, connected to a giant curtain that serves as an entrance to the woods where the experience takes place.

According to reviews, there are multiple ghostface actors, increasing difficulty for everyone else - but it increases the thrill for you. If you make it to the exit without getting caught, you get your money back and a Ghostface collectible. So as far as you’re concerned, you have no choice but to make it though.

“Quick, shoot it back!"

You gasp as your friend is shoving a tiny liquor bottle into your palm, before reaching into her purse to pass one out to every member of your group. You’re in line now, almost halfway to the start.

Your friend’s insignificant other, Toji, grins wickedly as he takes back three or four of them. You're still nervously holding onto just the one, feeling your mouth water as you imagine the nasty liquor sliding down your throat.

"Ah, look at 'er," Toji clowns, gripping your friend by the waist. "If she's afraid to take a simple shot, she ain't gonna last in there."

"Piss off, Fushiguro," Geto - another member of your group - grits. "Not all of us are hopeless alcoholics like you are."

"And 'm not afraid," you butt in, glaring at Toji. "A bitch can't hesitate?"

“Just drink it, girl,” Toji replies, his tone bored.

You roll your eyes at him before you turn away from the group and quickly take the shot, knowing you're going to need it inside. Because, no thanks to Choso, you’re going to be all alone. Geto is paired with your other friend, Satoru, and your girlfriend has Toji. Geto had offered to ditch Satoru for you, but you like the idea of being by yourself.

So, in short, you'll need a lot of liquid courage to make it through, even though Ghostface is your favorite Halloween character - and you can hardly contain your excitement.

"Alright!" Toji and your friend clap after you turn back around with a grimace.

The line moves forward. Your group is going to start being escorted inside, pair by pair, and you’ll be the last of everyone to enter. You snatch another shot from your friend and take it back, the sinking feeling in your stomach setting in, knowing how close you are to a dream come true.

But what outweighs your fear is your fantasy. Ghostface is hardly scary as he turns you on, like a pervert in heat. You had never built up the courage to ask your exes to wear the mask in bed or anything, but the fact that it had even crossed your mind makes you feel like some kind of freak.

"Step right up, step right up!" A voice booms from the man leading people in through the curtain, pulling you away from your thoughts.

He holds up an imaginary microphone to Toji and your friend.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he asks with a grin.

Their answers conveniently match, which is cute, but not the answer the man was looking for; his face drops.

Then, the man pulls back the curtain to allow them to step through. Now you are alone with Geto and Satoru.

"You better have your arms ready," Satoru says with a nudge to Geto. "The minute anything pops out at me, I’m jumping on you.”

Geto huffs, "Absolutely not. We're not paying fifty bucks a pop for you to cower the whole time." He pauses to glance at you. "Besides, Y/N is literally going in by herself."

"Yeah, 'cause she'd rather die of fright than partner with you," Satoru teases, and Geto simply rolls his eyes.

You are zoning out of their conversation slowly, your heart thumping rapidly in your ears as time draws nearer for you to go inside.

The same routine happens with Satoru and Geto several minutes later; the bouncer asks them for their favorite scary movie before shoving them inside.

You shift your weight nervously, all alone now, your fingers fiddling with the trim of your skirt.

A few minutes pass by, shrieks coming from the other side, making you giggle at just how squeaky Satoru had gotten. Then, after another eternity, the bouncer turns to you.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he questions, red eye contacts sliding down your body.

"Uh, I don't know," you reply with an innocent shrug.

"Oh come on, you have to have a favorite,” he grins, his face lighting up because someone finally catches his reference. “What comes to mind?"

"Um, Halloween, you know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters," you continue, unable to help smiling back at him.

He nods approvingly and pulls back the curtain, flashing lights on the other side greeting you. You swallow nervously as fog rolls over the floor, a red light at the end of a long walkway.

You carefully walk down, your buzz weighing down on you, but unfortunately not enough to get rid of your fear entirely. You look at the edge of every wall, waiting for something to jump out at you, but it never does.

Nothing happens except for cool air blowing in your face as you walk, hugging your arms, gooseflesh rising on the back of your neck. You begin to feel that this isn’t so bad, but right as you think you've made it out safely, you hear a footstep.

You turn in a flash, but there's nothing there. You know you heard it though.

You shake it off and turn back around, only to see him - standing all but a grave's length away from you.

You jump and shriek a bit as he just stands there, menacingly, in all his Ghostface glory.

You gulp thickly, alcohol lingering in your saliva. You try to come up with a fast plan; you couldn’t go down this easily.

You take a step to the side. He mirrors your actions.

You bring your hands up in defense now, feeling your stomach sink at the thought of what he could possibly do next. He cocks his masked head at an angle, slowly holding up his knife...

As he does this, you bolt right past him. He stands there for a second, possibly stunned, before you hear the crunching of him sprinting after you.

He's hot on your heels. You've exited the safe cushion of the hallway and are now in the middle of darkness, only trees and tall labyrinth-like bushes surrounding you. It’s scary, but it’s exactly what you came for. You’re living an absolute dream.

You dare to glance over your shoulder as your chest becomes tight, your oxygen feeling as though it's being choked out of you.

He's not there.

Your body shakes in fear. It's so exhilarating. You smile sadistically to yourself, deciding to give yourself a break from running.

You run around a tall bush and squat down. You glance from side to side and listen for his footsteps. They're nearby, but there’s lots of bushes around. No way will he be able to pick the exact one you’re squatting behind.

You smirk and stay where you are, on your hands and knees. His footsteps get closer, and you hold your breath.

You can see him now through the branches in the bush, his shoulders bucked as he is equally on guard as you are. He stops to look around, listening for you.

You lose your balance and take a step back, crack!

His head whips in your direction, the permanent scream etched into the mask giving your cunt its own pulse.

You let out a deep breath and back up, still crouching, as he starts to come around the bush.

You make a run for it.

Trees seem to taunt you as you zigzag through the darkness, your boots crunching twigs and dead leaves.

You realize too late that you are lost.

You can’t keep running. Your breath is slowly disappearing.

You think you may have a moment of sanctuary, so you find a bush, a tall bush that has no visibility - but that also fortunately means you cannot see if he’s near.

You squat low to the ground and pant as quietly as you can. You’re enjoying yourself, but unfortunately without a partner, you have no way to discuss strategy. You don’t know what to do next.

But that’s when you hear it.

Crunch!

Someone is nearby, but you can’t see how nearby.

You figure you may have time to run again; the issue is that you still can hardly breathe.

But, another part of you writhes in the idea of being caught. You know realistically, though, that they aren’t allowed to touch you, but God do you wish for the opposite.

You swallow down the burn in your throat from running. You need to move.

You turn your back for a split second to look for a new hiding spot - your eyes land on a gap in foliage nearby. You turn back to stand straight, but to your horror a new Ghostface is there, standing tall over you; bare, toned abs covered in blood glistening under the moonlight. You feel your breath hitch and you yelp again.

"Surprise, Sidney," he beams, his voice a little raspy and - dare you say, familiar.

You swallow again before ripping an exaggerate shriek, scrambling to stand up, backing away as you do so, before thump! your spine hits the bark of a tree you swore wasn’t there a second ago. You’re trapped between bushes and trees.

Your chest heaves as you try to back up farther against the tree, but to no avail, and the half-naked Ghostface creeps closer. His hand with the fake knife is raising slowly, which you know is for dramatic effect. But on account that you know he can’t really stab you, you wonder what his plan is once he reaches you.

You whine, shaking your head with a quivering lip, wondering if you can fight, or run. But instead you become distracted as you take another look at him.

God, his stomach is carved into perfect shapes of abdominal muscle. You're so enticed by such art that you don't even notice him putting a hand right behind your head.

Your lips part in surprise once you register the closeness, and your back arches against the tree, as if that would move you farther away from him.

He takes his knife and presses the tip to your chin - using force to point your face towards him, and you make eye contact with the two soulless pits he has for eyes.

"What do you suppose I ought to do with you now, hmm?" he questions lowly, tilting his head to the side.

You swallow thickly, hands scrambling behind you against the bark of the tree. The next group should be arriving soon - right? You wonder how long you will be alone with him. You don't think you'll make it if he keeps you pinned to the tree like this.

"Let me go," you suggest, voice hoarse from fright, and lust.

"Well sheesh, Y/N, that's lame," the voice suddenly raises a few octaves and is much more playful than before. "I mean - goddamnit."

"You-” you cut yourself on in astonishment. “How do you…?”

"I fucking ruined it," he growls. "I'm so stupid."

Suddenly, he's breaking away from you, his knife falling from your face. You watch in actual horror as he uses his free hand to lift up his mask - revealing the angelic face of your best friend. Choso.

"Cho, what the fuck?" you gasp, your fright immediately dissolving into... embarrassment, but masking it in the form of annoyance. "You dick, what are you doing here?"

"I told you that I had to work," he says meekly, "I thought it would be fun to play Ghostface, but I mostly thought you’d enjoy it.”

You feel a little bad after that, he’s entirely too sweet. But you can't help but wonder what he’s implying.

"I... do enjoy seeing you as Ghostface," you admit, but you're embarrassed because you know he saw you ogling the fuck out of his abs. "But... you went through all this trouble for me?"

"Mhmm," Choso nods proudly, his hair falling boyishly over his forehead. "What, you don't like it?"

"No, I-I..." you taper off, unsure of what you want to say next. "It’s just, why are you shirtless? You did that for me too?”

As his face heats, his cheeks turn apple red. “Maybe.”

Oh, he’s terrible. This new knowledge does not help the tingling at the meeting of your thighs.

His embarrassed face changes to a grin after seeing the expression on your face, and he takes a step closer to you again. "So, you forgive me for bailing on you then, yeah?”

“Mm, not quite,” you frown. “You think you can just flash your sexy pecs and toned stomach at me and I’ll forget that you left me here all alone?”

You see each word hit Choso, but you try to look past it, as you’re only speaking to him like this to rile him up. Because now, your nerves are on fire, lust filling up your body. He’s so close, why is he standing so close? You can smell him; a heavenly mix of wood, musk, and corn syrup.

He smelled like your Choso, who’s body fit perfectly against yours when you cuddled, who’s silky hair slid through your fingers when you played with it, who’s laugh is extremely contagious. You try not to make it obvious that you’re inhaling deeply, breathing him in for what felt like the first time.

Damned the alcohol, you think to yourself. Making you look at your friend with such feelings you’ve been swallowing for months. But you just can’t help it…

“You think my pecs are sexy?” Choso asks, but he’s not grinning. He looks genuinely shocked.

You don’t reply and instead smile at his innocence. “And not to mention, did you not even see how scared I was?”

“I did, but,” Choso admits, “I… I’m probably some kind of sick freak, because-“

“Because you liked it?” you finish for him, and his moon-colored face somehow grows whiter.

He nods carefully.

“I feel the same way,” you reply, taking a shaking hand and planting it right over his heart. You feel the pec flex as he responds to your touch. “Why haven’t you dressed up f’me before?”

Choso’s Adam’s Apple bobs harshly in his throat. “I…I thought you’d be weirded out.”

“No,” you said softly, “it’s amazing, Choso. That you enjoy my interests enough to go out of your way like this.”

“Well, of course,” he scoffs, shaking his hair from his eyes. “I would do anything to make you happy.”

“Like what?” you coo, tilting your head to the side, sliding your hand across his chest to grip his thick arm.

“Y/N,” Choso breathes, his eyes fluttering shut. “You h-have to stop touching me like that.”

“Not till you answer my question,” you say.

“Whatever you want,” he whispers, leaning towards you more, as if he wants to put his head on your shoulder. “I am a man of little words. I don’t know what it is that women like.”

“Well, I promise I’m not that complicated,” you reply, sliding your hand up the side of his neck to rest on his jaw. He nuzzles his cheek into your touch.

“No, but you might not want what it is that I really want to do to you,” Choso spits out suddenly, his words coming fast and nervously.

“To me?” you ask, astonished.

He grunts and shifts his weight uncomfortably. “For you. I-I meant for you.”

“No, you didn’t,” you tug your bottom lip with your top teeth - his words traveling straight to your cunt. You couldn’t take much more of this. “How do you know I don’t want it unless you try?”

“Because,” Choso grits suddenly, jerking his head away from your face. “All the guys say you’d never go for someone like me. They say I wouldn’t know what to do with you.” He pauses to sigh. “They may be right but, nonetheless, I wanna see you scream and run like you did a second ago. It just got me so…”

He grunts uncomfortably, and you try to pretend you don’t notice the freakishly long bulge in his costume pants.

“You know everything about me,” you frown, dropping your hand. “You shouldn’t have listened to them.”

“Well, we are just friends,” he replies nervously. “Didn’t want to do anything you don’t want.”

You scoff, “What could you possibly wanna do? You know my limits.”

Choso bites his lip. “But I want to… to push the limits really hard. Especially since,” he pauses and glances around. “We are alone.”

“Push them, then,” you say, and you swear Choso’s eyes are going to pop free from their sockets. “Let’s say I run and hide again. If you can find me…” you pause to smile. “All limits are off.”

You blink up at him innocently, wanting to run your hand over his bulge just as a tease - but you refrain. You had plenty of tricks ready for him.

Choso’s eyes flash and he looks down at the ground for a second. When his head lifts again, desire has overcome his pupils, and he’s smirking.

“Better run then, Sidney. I will not be merciful.”

You take a deep breath before peeling yourself off of the tree and beginning a sprint. Your stomach is knotted with excitement. You have no idea what’s going to happen, but you can’t believe Choso’s down for… whatever it is.

You must have been dreaming. This would change things between you and Choso forever, but maybe that was for the better. Maybe the two of you needed to do this to break the friendzone, even if it was in the form of some kind of sick game of chase in the middle of a forest.

You run and run. You run until you can’t even see the actual attraction anymore; where there had previously been signs to let you know you were still in the bounds of the game, there’s none now.

You may very well be lost but you’re also away from possibly being seen by anyone. Totally not intentional.

You smirk as you find a new spot, and plant yourself there. You should have a few minutes before Choso catches up.

You take your phone out of your pocket. Barely any signal, but enough to see that the group chat is on fire.

Toji

There’s absolutely no reason I should hear Gojo screaming like a bitch from out here 😂

Satoru

ok, im hiding rn, and there’s people everywhere.

besides suguru left me ☹️

Geto

Yes because you were compromising my hiding place with your fuck ass breathing. 👍🏼

Y/F/N

Well, Suguru just made it, so now where are you?

And Y/N?

Satoru

there’s literally nothing but trees ????

but i think i see the lights at the exit

Toji

mentioned you in the chat: You got ma girl here worrying bout you , are u alive???

Satoru

Y/N wya so you can help me out of here 😭🙏🏼

You

im trying to stay off my phone, take notes

Satoru

nah hell nah. i need my phone out in case i need to call 911.

Toji

The cops can’t do shit for u 😭

Y/F/N

mentioned you in the chat: Are you lost?

Choso

Guys did you leave her alone?! Wtf

Nanami

Yeah, you guys are sick.

Satoru

im not hearing shit from the two mfs who decided not to come.

Geto

I offered to go with her -.-

You

i can see the exit guys. im fine you lie.

Satoru

i can see the exit too. i don’t see u. sure ur in the right place?

Geto

I can see your hair, Satoru.

Satoru

FUCK HE FOUND ME

Geto

As could anyone with eyes -.-

Y/F/N

Satoru just came out screaming so loud he woke up a baby. Now they’re crying together 😭

Choso

Guys focus. What did you do to Y/N

You

im fine cho <3

Satoru

AWWWW

Toji

Brotha eughhhh

Y/F/N

Okay, we’re going to play some of the games. Call us when you make it to the exit or if we haven’t heard from you, we’re coming in bitch!

Nanami

Good. At least you all have a plan.

Your phone continues to buzz, but you don’t reply. You sigh, silently thanking Choso for playing along with you in the chat.

“Seems like your friends are looking for you,” a voice suddenly breathes, muffled from the mask.

Your breath hitches as you lock your phone and it falls to the forest floor.

“You found me so fast,” you say with a gulp, turning to face him.

“Didn’t wanna waste precious time,” he says with a chuckle. “Now, what’s that you said? All limits are off? I can do whatever I want?”

You smirk as you turn to face him. “Does widdle Cho even know what he wants?” you mock.

You can’t see his face under the mask, but his body responds to you: his shoulders tense and his head leans forward.

“You,” he says quietly. “On my cock.”

You bite your lip, “Oh? How?”

He grunts and steps forward, before taking your throat between his fingers. His squeeze is soft, not enough to take your breath but enough to force your head still.

“Need your pretty lips on it,” he replies. “Wanna smear your lipstick. Always love when you get dolled up, but too bad y’gonna look a mess when I’m finished.”

You whine a bit in response and hold his wrist, looking directly at the eyes of the mask. “Where’s this side been hiding?”

“Told you already,” he grunts, “didn’t wanna scare you off with the twisted things I think about doing to you.”

You groan at the way his words are flooding straight to your panties. You thank your past self for wearing a skirt, it’s going to be so ridiculously easy to slide out of it.

“You think some head is twisted?” you grin. “Maybe they were right when they said you couldn’t handle me.”

This earns you a deep growl as he uses his grip on your throat to force you to slide down, until your knees hit the hard earth. You hiss in pain but ultimately don’t care, as he releases your throat and uses his knife to tip your face up towards him.

At this angle, he’s delicious. Solid stomach stares at you from just inches away and the mask on his shoulders makes your thighs quench with desire.

“I mean face fucking you until you’re gasping for air,” he grits, “‘Choso, no’ you’d say, but I can’t understand you with a mouth full of dick, hmm?”

You blink up at him, too stunned to reply. Your lips part in expectancy, and your hands shoot out to lay flat against the top of Choso’s thighs.

He’s doing such a fantastic job of catering to your disgusting fantasy that you can’t help but slither your hands up to the top of his waistband before he can say another word. You want to please him so bad, wanna be good for your Choso.

He stands and watches, still as air. His chest rises and falls as he breathes, the mask still staring down at you, but it makes things hotter knowing that on the other side of the mask is Choso’s stare.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of the black pants.

Choso lets out a small noise. “I-I’m supposed to be the one in control, not fair.”

You grin but do not halt your movements. Your fingers begin tugging, tugging, tugging down the pants - along with his boxers.

You watch as his length slowly gets revealed until it inevitably pops out - slapping against his stomach before hanging erect in alignment with your face.

You take in a deep breath, and Choso appears to be holding his own. You examine his cock, just to make him nervous. He’s got a very thin amount of hair that leads from the trail on his stomach, the length itself being veiny and darker than him; skinny at the base, but fat and terrifying at the pink tip.

“I knew it’d would be this pretty,” you hum, “pretty cock on a pretty boy.”

Choso’s hips shift as he knocks himself forward so that the tip grazes your chin, leaving a faint residue of his sticky precum. Your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

“Th-Thank you,” he whimpers, “need your throat.”

He leans down to take one of your pigtails into each hand. He is not gentle now, his grip being harsh enough to make you yelp; when you do, he stuffs his dick right between your red lips.

Your eyes flutter closed immediately at the feeling of a full mouth. You carefully wrap your lips around him as he slowly shoves his hips forward until he’s barely halfway in, and his tip kisses the back of your throat.

You stick your tongue out so that it can glide against the sensitive underside of his cock. He notices and his head tilts back.

“S-So warm,” he moans out, sitting stagnant for a minute, before looking down at you.

You hum a bit, knowing the vibrations feel good against his tip, and he thanks you by sliding his cock back out of your mouth and ramming it back in.

You gag and your mouth gets watery, drool leaking out of the corners and covering every inch of him that you are able to take. His thrusts start getting faster, smearing your lipstick all along the length of him, his grip on your hair never loosening.

His little moans are so delicious; soft whines as he uses your face for his pleasure.

“Doin’ s-so much better than I imagined,” he mutters out, and though you love looking up and seeing the mask, you desperately want to see his innocent face twisted up as he experiences this ungodly amount of pleasure.

“Mmh-” you moan around him.

You’re still in awe that this is happening. You’d had plenty of opportunities to do things like this with him, but you’d never been sure he would go for it. You guess you can’t blame him for feeling the same way, because how were either one of you going to ask for a face fuck?

All that doesn’t matter anymore because everything in this moment is perfect, including him. Your Choso.

You take your hand and wrap it around the base at the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth. You take him out of your mouth to plop a pool of spit there and slide your hand up and down for a minute, giving your jaw a break.

“Take off the mask for a second,” you say to him, now that you can speak.

He obeys immediately. The mask is gone, hanging from the hand that doesn’t have a fist full of your hair.

Your lips part at seeing his perfect face, fucked out, twisted in astonishment.

“Back in,” he demands softly, tugging your pigtail.

You blink as you obey and slide your mouth back over his length. You keep your face angled upwards to look at him, and he’s staring down at you like you’re both the most amazing thing he’s ever seen and the best thing he’s ever felt.

You lather up your saliva as you continue trying to go down as far as you can, taking his cock down your throat, which unlocks a new noise from Choso that gets your cunt pounding harder.

You twist your hand over the base and hollow your mouth out to squeeze your cheeks around his sensitive skin. By now your face is covered in drool, spit bubbles all around his tip, saliva dripping onto the earth below you.

Choso loses it and leans forward, releasing your hair and dropping his mask, placing his hands on the trunk of the tree. Now his hips are thrusting, hard - the bottom of his stomach kissing the tip of your nose as he fucks your face.

“Hah - oh,” he whines as he uses your mouth. “Th-Think ‘mgonna cum already.” He sounds sad, and you smile on his dick.

You don’t say anything back but you grumble deep in your throat again, knowing it’s going to drive him insane.

But he quickly pulls his cock back out of your mouth with a deep breath as if his head had been underwater.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not till I get to make you feel good, too.”

“I did feel good,” you say hoarsely, wiping saliva and lipstick from your face. “Liked pleasing you.”

Choso groans and shakes his head, his chest heaving rapidly. “Stand up for me,” he says gently.

You miss rough Choso already.

You obey though, standing back tall, almost eye level to him in your thick boots.

He doesn’t waste any time; in a flash he’s latched himself onto you, hands pressing into your thighs and he slides them up slowly towards your hips. He tilts his head to the side as you find your back hitting the tree - again, this time, circumstances much different.

“Can’t believe my pretty best friend wants me to fuck her,” he speaks, voice sultry with lust. “Sounds too good to be true.” He leans forward again and lets his nose brush yours, and you shiver with a deep sigh.

“I want you so much,” you say pathetically, bringing your arms over his shoulders and digging your fingertips into the hair behind his head.

His brows furrow in pleasure and you keep speaking.

“In different ways,” you say, “not just to fuck me. But right now… that’s all I want. Please, I need it. Need you.”

“Such a good girl when you beg,” Choso’s voice is soft, but firm, “you never have to beg with me, but I love hearing it. Keep going.”

“Please.”

“Yes?”

“Please, Choso.”

“Choso what?”

“Mmh - god, I hate you.”

“Love you most.”

You go to fire back, but he shuts you up with a harsh crash of his mouth against yours. His warm, wet lips mold right into yours, sliding effortlessly together. Your hands shoot out to his shoulders and he keeps his hands on your hips, gripping them like you’re going to disappear if he doesn’t maintain his hold on you.

Your name leaves his lips in soft little pants as he tilts his head to the side, forcing your lips apart with his tongue before he slides the wet muscle inside so deep that you can feel it on the back of your throat.

You suck on his tongue and he grunts thanks into your mouth. Your hands are running wildly over each other, as if you could crawl inside one another’s skin, two souls joining as one.

He breaks away and gasps, and you grab him by his hair and force his head to an angle. He allows you to then leave sloppy, red kisses all over his neck. His eyes flutter closed as you pleasure him, knowing your innocent baby must feel so good.

You pull back and blink at the mess on his neck.

“Cho, it left stains, I…”

“Don’t care,” he hisses, “brand me all you want. Want everyone to know, that in some way, you own me.”

His big hands whip you around suddenly, like you’re nothing but a ragdoll; now your cheek is planted against the tree and your hands are digging into the bark for stability.

Choso rips up your skirt, and presses his bare, wet cock right to your backside.

“Always fuck my pillow while I moan for you, y’know,” he grunts, reaching his arm around the front of your waist, tugging the thin material that are your panties to the side. “Then you come over and lay your pretty head all in my cum, leaving your scent, and I do it again. Can’t get enough, just love you so much.”

You gasp as he talks, the quake of desire making your legs tremble as Choso’s fingers start circling your clit. Your best friend - so sweet and cute - knew exactly where to find it. You cry out.

You want to pretend you’re disgusted at him making you sleep on his cum, but you really don’t care. You find the thought exhilarating, wondering how many times he’d done that, while smiling innocently next to you.

“Y-You’re so - mmh,” a moan cuts you off as he applies more pressure to your clit. “You fuck yourself to me? My good boy.”

Choso whines before he begins panting against the back of your neck, pathetically rubbing himself against your fishnets, leaving slimy trails of his precum and your saliva all over your ass. He’s keeping the same rhythm with his hips as his fingers on your bundle of nerves, and just when you think nothing can feel any better, he starts to push his dick between your thighs.

You feel his cock slide over your clothed pussy over and over, meeting his fingers at your clit as he swirls them expertly.

Your eyes roll back as you try desperately to reach your high, but you need him to stop teasing you. And fast.

“Choso, please,” you cry, pushing your hips back against him, the sound of your skin meeting his pelvis cracking like the twigs under your feet.

“What is it, my love?” he coos hotly in your ear. “What do you want? Anything, you got it.”

“Ngh - you, goddamnit,” you growl now, frustration overcoming your softness for your best friend. “Who taught you to tease like this?”

Choso chuckles in your ear, “My dear, you did.”

You gasp as he pulls his hands and his cock away from you suddenly. “H-How did I-”

“Mmh, did you think I wasn’t listening to you whenever you’d come over and tell me about your hookups?” he questions softly, taking a step back and you realize he’s going to collect his mask. “It hurt, believe me, but I’ve been taking notes. Wanted to ensure I could make you happier than those other losers.”

You realize this means Choso’s been thinking of fucking you for way longer than you can comprehend. You can hardly blame him; though it came later, you’d had the same awful thoughts of him, but you were able to control it. You’d talked yourself out of it, that is, until tonight - with the liquor in your system.

“You make me happier without fucking me, y’know,” you grin, as his presence returns behind you.

“Oh,” his voice drops, “s-so you don’t wanna do this anymore?”

You gasp and shake your head. Now isn’t the time to be second guessing things, you were deep in heat and Choso would be traumatized if you had to stand here any longer, your cunt dripping uncontrollably down your thighs.

“I want to, mmh,” you hiss, “‘m just saying, you make me happy in general. But… I wouldn’t know if you can fuck me as good as the others, would I?”

Choso growls at this. His fingertips find the edge of your panties and he pulls them over once again - your body jerks at the reunion of his hands on your skin.

“Not as good,” he corrects, “better.”

His dick finds your folds again, thigh fucking you for several moments to lubricate himself in your warm juices. You end up standing on your toes at the shiver that ensues from this, your back arching against him.

He takes a deep breath, and finally, pressure hits your hole as his pretty tip pushes through the threshold.

The first thing either of you says is a dramatic “fuck,” as Choso pauses with just the tip in.

“Why y’stopping?” you panic.

“Hah - the guys said if it’s really tight, you’re not ready f’me,” Choso says sadly.

He almost goes to move his hips back out when you shove yours against him, sliding yourself down several inches of cock.

“Just gotta give me a sec to adjust, Cho,” you say, growing angrier at a second mention of the cockblockers. “Y’so big.”

“Not big, you’re just tight like this,” he groans. “M-Might not last long.”

“‘s okay,” you say, biting your lip, knowing you’ve been brewing a devilish plan in your head the entire time - so if he cums fast, that has nothing to do with you. “Fill me up, please.”

Choso wastes no time bowing to your request. He takes his arms and wraps them around your body, planting his hands on your stomach, where he hikes up your shirt and your breasts fly out of their restraint - your bra.

“Mmh, mmh,” Choso’s mumbling behind you as he thrusts his entire length up into your cervix, dragging himself back out as slowly as he wants, before shoving his cock back in hastily.

His fingers are gently twisting your nipples now, this combined with the cold breeze from the woods has goosebumps rising all over you.

You whine a pathetic “Choso. My Choso,” as his pace quickens; his sheer amount of girth perfectly passing over the sensitive ridges in your canal. At the angle, his dick is curving up into your g-spot, making your cunt wetter; inflaming the urge to squirt all over him.

Choso is grunting like it’s his first time feeling a real pussy. He digs his fingers into the soft skin of your breasts for leverage and continues drilling his hip bones into your ass.

You decide to look back at him. The mask is on his face, which makes your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. One of his hands leaves your breast and finds your pigtail - yanking your head so that you’re forced to keep looking at him. You thank him by meeting the wrecking force of his hips with your own.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, his head falling back. “Fuck this cock, s’all yours. Doing so good-“ he cuts himself off with a whine. “Been in love with you for years, but now I know you got this good ass-” a grunt cuts him off, “ngh - fuck, and we’re just friends? I’m supposed to share this with other people?”

You laugh at him before your smugness is cut off with a moan. “N-Not anymore,” you answer, “I’m yours now, Choso.”

“All mine?” he echoes, driving an extra deep thrust into you for emphasis.

“Yours,” you repeat, “how do you feel about that?”

Choso growls and leans his torso forward, the delicate curve in your back sliding perfectly against his stomach and chest. “Like this.”

Fwip! Fwip! Fwip!

His pace grows quicker, harder. You can’t believe you’re still standing with the amount of pleasure he’s inflicting on your poor insides. Each time his tip hits the opening to your uterus, you sulk out a pathetic cry, but he’s not showing mercy. Your sweet best friend could care less how bad it hurts - and you love it.

“Need you to be meaner,” you groan, “more often. Fuck. Needed this so bad.”

“Yeah? Y’like that?” Choso buzzes, pulling your head towards him even harder. “Like me tearing up your guts?”

“S’much,” you are barely able to moan, let alone speak as white spots appear in your vision. “Wanna c-cum.”

“Mmh - not yet,” Choso purrs, hand falling from your hair, then leaning his head over your shoulder so that you can see a glimpse of the creepy Ghostface mask out of the corner of your eye. “Already gonna cum? Thought you were stronger than this.”

“Ngh - usually,” you whine pathetically, “but you - you feel so good.”

“I know,” Choso grins, slamming himself into you several times in a row before slowing his strokes to an agonizing pace.

You’re still convinced this is a dream you have yet to wake from. To think, he was afraid to even make the first move. Now you’re bent over, middle of the darkness, crying out his name as he fucks your brain against your skull. You can’t think, can’t feel anything besides your needy hole being filled and then some.

“O-Oh,” Choso grunts, “‘kay, maybe you can cum, ‘cause I don’t think ‘mma make it.”

“Oh, really?” you taunt, giggling, now using force from the tree to throw your whole body back against his.

“Y-Y/N, no,” he complains, his hands flying to your hips as if they’re reigns he needs to hang onto.

You ignore him, using all the strength in your legs to fuck back onto him, your pace fast - till you feel the twitch in his cock and his moans become louder than yours.

“No!” Choso shouts fakely, before trying to pull himself out of you, but you follow him with your hips and he lets his spurts of cum splash uncontrolled all over your walls.

You grin greedily because you’re not finished with him. You reach next to you and rip off his mask, wanting to see your plan unfold in his facial features.

Your hips don’t stop, even as Choso’s cock twitches and shakes inside of you, and his hands are leaving bloody nail-shaped crescents on your hips by now from the amount of pressure he’s putting on them.

“Hah - hah - ngh, mmm, n-noooo,” he whines, his head falling limp on your shoulder as you continue to swirl your hips on his cum-covered dick, using him to get your orgasm.

“Such a good boy, Cho,” you purr in his ear, “letting me use your cock however I want? Dressing up to get my attention? Fucking me exactly how I asked? S-So good.”

“Th-then why are you punishing me,” he stutters, his teeth sinking into your bare shoulder as overstimulation floods him.

“‘M not, Cho baby,” you say softly, “I need to cum too. Not fair only you get to finish, is it?”

“I-I was gonna help you,” he says, his voice muffled from his face buried in your shoulder.

He drives his point home by reaching up to your clit, using his fingers to rotate little devilish circles over the spot. You feel your stomach light itself on fire.

“Agh - can’t take it,” Choso groans. “‘m gonna cum again.”

You can barely hear him, because you’re so cockdrunk that your senses are gone. All that exists in your mind’s eye is Choso’s hand and his cock, both pleasuring you in different ways.

“‘M cumming!” you chant together, full body compulsions overcoming you both as you clench around him - milking every last drop of his second orgasm out as your own ripples through your veins.

You hear squelching as Choso gasps, and you’re vaguely aware of your pussy gushing, but you can’t find it in you to care as you’re still trying to stop grunting and shaking.

“Oh god,” you manage to rasp, your limp body falling towards the tree as Choso lets go of you.

He collapses against the tree next to you and slowly lifts up his pants as his chest heaves; the world silent around you, save for both of your breathing.

Moments pass and nothing is said, just a silent agreement in the air that the two of you need to gently float off back to the ground.

But then, Choso’s curious voice pierces the bubble.

“I-Is it bad that I…” Choso gestures to you. “Finished in you like that? N-never done that before, but it felt so nice.”

“No,” you answer, your voice ringing in your ears. “Nothing bad will happen, I take a pill to prevent that. Don’t worry. You can do that as much as you want and whenever you want.”

Choso nods, “Can’t even think about doing it again right now.”

He’s so fucked. You are too, feeling like you can’t get your brain to speak to your bones. You can’t move. All you can do is blink away your high and catch your breath, stars still dancing along your vision.

But after a while, you’re able to pry yourself off of the tree, and the two of you clean each other up as best as you can - Choso wipes his bloody hand print off of your throat, but when you try to get your lipstick off of his neck, he fights you.

“No,” he says sharply, “leave it.”

You feel your face heat. “Choso, everyone’s gonna know.”

“That we made out and you kissed my neck,” he grins, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your nose.

And just like that, your best friend, the person you love more than anything else has you wrapped around his finger and ready to obey his commands. His softness has returned for good.

The two of you find yourselves walking hand in hand through the woods, ecstasy surrounding you in your own little bubble.

You pull out your phone and alert your friends that you’re approaching; and when you two reach the gate, the whole group is standing there - Satoru munching on orange and black popcorn, Toji holding a stuffed panda with blood stains, Geto examining his nails, and Y/F/N slurping a giant purple drink.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Toji bursts out, almost immediately after seeing you two approach.

“I know you’re fucking lying,” Y/F/N adds, almost dropping her drink.

“You motherfuckers were in there FUCKING?” Satoru shouts, popcorn flying from his fingers in disbelief.

Choso turns beet red. “N-No, what?”

“Yep,” you nod, contradicting him. “Nasty, rough, raw sex.”

“RAW IS CRAZY!”

“Oh my GOD-”

“Hot.”

Everyone turns to look at Geto in disbelief.

“What? You mean to tell me you guys didn’t consider fucking in the woods?” he questions Toji.

“Well, I asked,” Toji says, scratching the back of his neck. “She said we’d get caught.”

Your friend kicks him in the leg.

“They didn’t,” Satoru points out. “You freaks. Choso, we didn’t even know you were here.”

“Right,” Choso nods. “That was the point.”

Satoru bursts into laughter which prompts the rest of the group to giggle.

“Also, we were wrong,” Toji admits suddenly. “We always tell him he can’t do shit with Y/N… but he managed to tame the beast. Well done, soldier.”

Choso rolls his eyes. “I-It’s not… I didn’t… she-”

“Well, anyways, I’m feeling rather… sobered now,” you cut him off, adjusting your shirt, unaware everyone can see the red marks Choso left on your sides, as well as the giant hole in your fishnets. “Say we grab some drinks?”

“Sounds nice,” Choso confirms.

“Oh I’m sure it does,” Toji snickers. “Gonna get her drunk again for round two?”

“Toji!”

“Ewww!”

“Nobody wanted to hear that!”

You giggle quietly next to Choso before you look up at him, only to see he’s already smiling down at you, disheveled hair and all.

“I love you, Sidney,” he coos.

“I love you more, Cho.”

[loveinhawkins]

a cherished headcanon I keep coming back to is that Eddie is very much invested in the school basketball team right up until the graduating class of ‘85 leaves. By an incredible series of mental gymnastics, he tries to convince himself that this has nothing to do with Steve Harrington’s presence on the team.

(And maybe Eddie avoiding the championship game of ‘86 in the near future will have more to do with Jason Carver being on the team, but that’s a sadder story for another time.)

The thing Eddie can easily admit he loves about the bigger games is the fleeting anonymity: while he’s got notoriety in Hawkins High, as soon as there’s a rival school involved he can blend into the crowd for a couple hours, lost in the roar of support.

It’s nearing the end of just such a tournament game when the ball accidentally goes flying into the crowd. Eddie’s reflexes kick in and he manages to catch it before it can take out the back row of the marching band.

The clock’s been stopped for a timeout—a kid on the rival team is injured—so more eyes are drawn to Eddie than normal as they find where the ball ended up. He feels acutely like a spotlight’s on him—holds the ball to his chest almost like he’s a part of the game himself.

A whistle cuts across the court. Steve Harrington.

He’s looking right at Eddie, raising his hands for the ball.

He has more than enough time to say something, some jeer that would well and truly break the spell of anonymity. But Eddie knows underneath the knee jerk worry that it’s not Steve’s style; it’s more the kind of thing Billy Hargrove and his ilk would do, and he’d thankfully been benched at halftime.

Eddie inhales then throws the ball, praying that he doesn’t end up smacking Steve in the face.

He doesn’t, thank God; Steve catches the ball smoothly, manages a thumbs up in thanks before the spotlight shifts back onto the game.

Eddie quietly sighs in relief, loses himself in cheering again.

They don’t win, but it’s still a good game. It’s like Eddie’s reasoning for campaigns: not everything needs to be an all-out victory for it to be entertaining.

The parking lot is a nightmare so he contents himself with waiting it out by his van while the worst of the crowds clear. It’s only when he hears a car door opening and closing nearby that he realises Steve is parked right next to him. Of course, of course he—

“Good catch back there, Munson,” Steve says, tossing his gym bag into his car. He notices something on one of the seats—Eddie can’t tell what it is, but he hears Steve mutter under his breath in benign exasperation, something about, “Dickheads, I keep telling them not to…”

“Yeah, thanks. All my years of training finally paid off.”

Steve makes a face at the build up of cars, chatting parents leaning out of their windows. “You could’ve been on the sub-team.”

“Kinda resent that you don’t think I’m star player material, Harrington.”

There’s the beginnings of a grin on Steve’s face. He has no right looking that smug for someone who’s just lost a game, Eddie thinks.

“Dude, I can hear you. You’re loud.”

Eddie wills his face not to flush. “You’ve got no proof.”

“Nah, just firsthand experience.”

“What, do you have ears like a bat?”

“Nope. Don’t need that to pick you out.” Steve chuckles to himself as he gets in the car, sits side-on to face Eddie as he speaks. “You’re worse than Tammy Thompson’s singing.”

“Uncalled for,” Eddie says, firmly locking away the part of his brain that’s screaming in embarrassment, because if he’s unable to fire off a comeback, he’ll actually never recover; he might as well go and tell Higgins that next year is already a wash, because he has to go and live in the woods—

“Hey, c’mon Munson, I didn’t say it was bad.”

“You implied it,” Eddie says, totally overselling the entire thing, like he’s been greviously wounded.

It works; Steve laughs, shakes his head.

“I didn’t,” he insists as he reverses out of his space. “I just meant it’s… distinctive.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

“That’s your whole shtick, man, don’t act like that wasn’t a compliment.”

“Sure. Eddie ‘Distinctive’ Munson, that’s me.”

And post-game sentiment must be in the air, because as Steve leaves the parking lot, he calls out the car window, bright and teasing, “Hey, maybe I’ll miss the cheering!”

But Eddie can’t be sure. Unlike Steve, he might be mishearing things.

[crguang]

Hi!! May I request NSFW with these prompts. I prefer if you write them with sub afab!reader in mind cuz I'm just a big sub and bottom for these gorgeous women <3 kafhimeswan makes my heart swoon ♥

1. gp!Kafka

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” (#43)

2. Black Swan with this prompt makes me akbdhsbsjsbs hehe “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”(#86)

3. Himeko makes me yearn!! “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” (#64)

btw I always come back to your kafka fics and your black swan 9k+ smutshot, I just can't get them out of my head, I love how you write them!!!

ive been wanting to do this one as soon as you sent it and finally got the time, hehe. save me kafhimeswan, save me… these prompts were amazing, ty for the kind words too!

cw: smut, fem!subreader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration (kafka), fingering and mirror sex (swan), scissoring (himeko)

The two of you are a tangle of limbs and heated touches, needy sighs and broken moans as your lips lock in sloppy kisses and your hands travel down each other’s bodies in messy attempts at undressing the other completely. Kafka has an advantage since you’re only wearing jeans and a t-shirt for this infiltration mission; she lifts the shirt off your head and absentmindedly throws it across the room, and her mouth is back on yours the moment it’s taken off. Her nimble hands make quick work of the buttons on your pants while you fumble with the harness over her chest. She chuckles into your mouth, a low, muffled sound of amusement, and one of your hands leaves her torso to tangle in her hair, gripping tight. Her head tilts back with the movement, a sharp exhale through her nose the only indication of how aroused the gesture made her. The smug smile on her face shows her pearly white teeth. Her eyes, though lidded, threaten to swallow you whole.

“Eager?” She asks, but she doesn’t need an answer. 

Kafka guides you back into the wall with a firm hold on your hips, pinning you between the cool drywall and the warmth of her body pressing against yours. You feel her breath on your lips and her chest into yours. She lifts a hand to tilt your head further up, giving her better access to steal the air from your lungs with another heady kiss. Her tongue explores the inside of your mouth, swirling around your own and wetting your lips in the process. Your mind fogs up and desire takes over your senses. You want her closer despite there being little to no space for it, and your fingers hook under the waistband of her shorts to pull her further into you. Kafka doesn’t bother taking off your bra, she slips a hand under the material and grabs a handful of your breast, delighting in the noise of pleasure she draws from you. She squeezes and fondles, her need apparent in her lack of gentleness. Your hips rock into hers and the pleased hum that rumbles from her throat only turns you on more. 

You’re already wet, you can feel the fabric of your underwear cling to your cunt as Kafka kisses you languidly and plays with your hardening nipple. Your fingers wander down her shorts to palm her over the clothing. The sensation of her growing bulge under your hand combined with her hot mouth assaulting yours makes your head spin. You need her so badly, you’re tempted to beg her to fuck you stupid. 

Her lips trail down your jaw and end where your neck meets your shoulder, parting to suck the skin until it darkens, and her tongue darts out to soothe it afterwards. Her teeth leave love bites across your shoulder, prettily marking you up in a way that would take half an hour to cover up. Her fingers harshly twist your nipple, prompting a surprised moan from you, and you grip her clothed cock over her shorts in retaliation to which she simply hums dazedly. 

“If we had more time I would punish you for that,” her voice speaks of future promises, and she raises her head to gaze down at you, the dim light darkening her irises. “That’ll be for later. Luckily for you, there’s only half an hour before the IPC barges in here, so…”

Kafka pulls her shirt out of her leather shorts and expertly unclasps their buttons. You watch her hands push the clothing past her hips and down to her ankles, busying yourself with doing the same thing to your jeans. Your mouth waters at the outline of her thick cock under her boxers. You swallow a couple of times, not dwelling on your disappointment at the fact that you won’t have the time to properly take it into your mouth. Kafka’s hands are on you again, squeezing your hips as she presses against you and bucks into your covered cunt. Her lips find yours hungrily with a pace even you have trouble following.  She takes, takes, takes what she wants without ceremony; she pulls down your underwear so it hangs around your ankles and spreads your thighs as far as they can go using one hand, never letting go of your mouth and swallowing the breathless whimpers that escape it. 

She betrays her own need with how urgently she sinks two fingers between your labia and smears your slick over your pussy. Her middle finger dips past your dripping entrance, drawing another weak, broken moan from you, but it withdraws a few seconds later. You don’t have time to whine for her to fill you, Kafka separates from your mouth and slides her underwear down her legs, freeing her already leaking cock. You don’t have the time to admire her either, she’s on a mission (well, two) and instantly grinds her cock into your cunt. Your eyes fall shut at the sensation of her shaft sliding between your pussy lips, coating her length in your slick. It brushes the tip of your clit and you have to hold on to the back of her shirt to stay upright, thighs trembling from the pleasure. 

Your needy moans and quiet mewls drive Kafka crazy. Despite the need to keep a clear mind, her desire to take you right there burns hot in her stomach and makes her throb almost painfully. She aligns her cock with your entrance, groaning low as she sinks the head into your warm cunt. Your forehead falls on her shoulder, lips parted to let out another whine, and your fingers’ tight grip on her shirt wrinkles the fabric, pulling her even closer.

“Mm… Slowly, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kafka inches into you slowly enough to allow you some time to adjust to being filled. Her fingertips dig into the skin of your hips. It takes some effort to pause and let you catch your breath once she’s fully inside you. She lifts your thighs and wraps it around her waist to give herself more room to thrust deep into your pussy, not bothering to conceal the drawn out groans that spill from her lips. 

“Mmm…” Kafka’s lazy moans sound near your ear, breath heavy as she fills you with her cock. Her pace is irregular, only seeking pleasure from you, and it takes all of your strength to keep yourself standing against the wall. 

It feels so good, you feel so full, you barely register your own pitiful whimpers. 

“F-Fu—Hah… Please…” You don’t know what you’re begging for; her throbbing head hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you, the release building in your stomach, the need for her to paint your walls white like icing on a wedding cake… 

You can’t think, can only babble broken sentences as she drives into you and pleasure rocks through your body in electrifying little jolts. You don’t feel the saliva at the corner of your lips from how long your mouth has stayed open. There’s that familiar, intoxicating feeling of your guts tightening before you cream on Kafka’s cock with a muffled cry into her shoulder. Her hips stutter, your cunt clenching tight around her and slowing her pace, though the intensity of her thrusts only increases with the need to come herself. She bucks into you roughly, taking your breath away. You see the birth of a star behind your eyelids. Kafka comes suddenly and bottoms out inside you, emptying herself into you in hot spurts, a curse on her lips. 

You’re a bit dizzy when you come down from your high, biting your lip as she slips out of you. You know you have a mission to complete, but your legs have turned into mush and Kafka has to support your standing weight with an arm around your back. You’re breathing heavily, and the minutes pass where your mind begins to sharpen back to its original state. Kafka has a pleased smile on her face, gently letting go of you to dress herself, and you sigh happily while you do the same.

You hear thumping footsteps from the floors below.

“Kafka, where’d you put my shirt?”

“…Mm?”

“…Are you fucking serious?!”

Your eyelids lower, your mind in a daze so blissful you can’t fully register the scene happening through the standing mirror right in front of you. Dried fruit and smoky notes fill the room with the scent of her and unscarred hands brush along the muscles of your arms; the unnatural warmth of her immaterial body pressed into your back cages you in, a dizzying embrace you wish you could live in until her duty calls her away. She is at once in front of you, staring back at you with dim, lustful eyes, and she is around you, touching you like she’s savoring the feel of you under her fingertips. Her presence appears larger than life and you are sprawled in the center of her palm, exposed to her hungry gaze and unable to hide even the deepest parts of you. You find it difficult to meet the galaxy reflected in her eyes, its intensity is only amplified by the fact that she undressed you mere moments ago and you are now stripped to your underwear and completely at her mercy. Round nails painted to match the colorful stained glass jewelry over her collarbones leave proof of their passage in the form of goosebumps that rise on your skin as they trail across your chest, following the edges of your bra. She teases you, revels in your flustered expression and the knowledge that she has reduced you to a puppet on her strings. 

You watch as her hand travels under the pad of your bra and replaces it with her palm, possessively cupping one breast. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes flutter shut for only a second; slender fingers under your chin firmly guide you back to face the mirror and you bite back a needy noise when your nipple is pinched between two digits.

“Forgotten already?” Black Swan’s low, sultry voice sounds from behind your ear, amused and playful. “Eyes on me, sweet girl…” 

You comply and meet her gaze through the mirror, embarrassment washing over you at the sight of her pleased smile and the position you’re in. Your stiff nipples are visible beneath your bra, your thighs are already spread in anticipation for her touch without her saying a word, and in this moment, she could do anything to you and you would take with a desperate moan. Her fingers dig slightly into your jaw, keeping you from moving your head to evade her heated stare a second time. You shift a little, flustered, because the hand around your breast has stopped moving and your body longs for her skillful ministrations.

“You’re squirming…”  You feel her warm breath on the back of your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your throat is dry, and you can’t manage a reply. You swallow once, unable to be anything but honest when she looks at you this way, as if she already held every answer you could ever provide. You feel her at the edge of your consciousness, her presence made purposely obvious to your senses. She is everywhere and she wants you to be aware of it. 

“How adorable,” Black Swan’s hand leaves your face and traces the plane of your bare stomach. Her lips stretch in a wider smile, one she means innocent but that has an edge of desire she can’t contain. “Forgive me, darling, but I cannot resist. You are a painting.”

The compliment doesn’t surprise you, she repeats it quite often, but her sincerity still makes you bashful. Black Swan chuckles at your reaction and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Her fingertips slither further down, toying with the waistband of your underwear, and you suck in an inaudible breath, anticipation taut in your belly. You watch each of her movements through the reflecting glass like she wants you to; embarrassment and arousal merge together inside of you as her middle finger sinks between your lips and leisurely rubs your covered slit, feeling the wetness through the thin fabric. You feel Black Swan’s aroused hum from where her lips are still pressed to your skin. She proves her own eagerness by slipping her hand into your panties and running two of her fingers down your slit, properly coating them in your slick. You can’t conceal a quiet moan when she circles your pulsing clit with a digit and applies delicious pressure to the sensitive bud. The hand on your chest resumes its gentle massage. All the while, her eyes, like glowing suns against the pitch black of the firmament, drink in every inch of your body under her touch and sears the moment in a corner of her mind she will share with no one else. 

Black Swan touches you with the expertise of someone who’s learned you from the inside. She draws sharp gasps and breathless moans and lustful sighs out of you as if she were a conductor and you her favored symphony. Her lips follow a path to the crook of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head, and plant hot kisses on your skin. She toys with your clit using two fingers and repeats each ministration with the ones on your nipple. Your stomach tightens, pleasure tingles down to the tip of your toes, and your own fingers grip her thighs to keep yourself upright, digging into the soft flesh. You don’t last long. Your clit throbs as you come with a long moan, eyes screwing shut with the intensity of the pleasure assaulting you, and your thighs close together, trapping her hand between them. She’s forced to stop the sweet torture of your pussy but continues to pinch and twist your stiff nipple under your bra to prolong the sensations.

Black Swan’s mouth wanders up the side of your neck to your ear. She sucks the lobe between her lips, and your chest heaves, body shuddering as your orgasm slowly subsides. 

“How ravishing you are…”

Your lashes flutter at her soft words, blinking to look back at her through the mirror. In her eyes is a bottomless hunger that you’ve become familiar with over time, it is gaping and consuming, and she doesn't have to utter another word for you to understand that she will indeed ravish you.

Himeko is a vision above you, straddled on your lap with her knees on each side of your frame, forcing her plush thighs open; she towers over you as a fragment of your most yearnful dreams, long vivid hair cascading down her back like the most beautiful waterfall and creamy skin so soft to the touch it almost feels blasphemous to sully with your hands. Her bare body is a creation of a higher being, but your disbelieving eyes are drawn to the stars in her eyes when she gazes down at you like you are worthy to stand by her side. She looks at you the same way you stare up at her, with undeniable devotion. It is something you often have difficulty coming to terms with because how can someone so beautiful choose to wake up next to you every morning? Your lips are parted and her gaze is tender, an adept hand brushing up between the valley of your breasts. 

Himeko leans forward until her chest is flushed to yours and cups your cheeks in her warm hands, staring into your eyes with a smile in hers. 

“Is it not obvious how much I adore you?” Her muttered words are warm against your lips, her golden irises as bright as an afternoon sun. 

It is. Himeko loves you in a way that is so evident, to you and everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear. She always handles you so carefully, not because she’s afraid you’ll break with a firmer touch but because this is how she loves. It’s in a reassuring hand on your lower back when you’re nervous and in gentle kisses up your neck when she wants to show you just how much she reveres you. It’s in how deeply she listens when you speak and the words of affirmation that easily spill from her lips. Her feelings are incontestable, she makes sure of it, but your treacherous mind still can’t fully comprehend why. Even now, beneath her weight, you feel she could have anyone she desires and is instead here with you. It’s baffling.

“Of course,” you reply just as quietly, lifting a hand to brush red strands out of her face, “it simply feels… nonsensical, at times.”

Himeko’s thumb brushes the skin under your eye. “You idolize me too much.”

“It’s impossible not to.”

She fondly shakes her head but her small smile is radiant. She traces your features with a finger, over your brows and along the bridge of your nose, then follows the curve of your upper lip. Himeko watches the movement of it on your face before meeting your eyes once again. 

“You’re so beautiful. How could I be anything but in love with you?”

You don’t answer her soft question, averting your gaze for a second. Her head bends to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips with hers. Her kiss is gentle yet firm, tangible proof of her desire for you, and you feel your body heat up under her for the second time tonight. Her tongue swipes over your bottom lip then slips into your mouth to entangle with yours. You’re aware of the warmth of her thighs caging your hips and the remnants of the pleasure you ripped out of her earlier, a mix of slick and cum smearing over your lower belly from where she is pressed against you. Your hands take hold of her waist, squeezing once. Himeko’s uneven breath fans across your lips when she withdraws from you. Bodies flushed together, you can feel each shiver that runs through her as her need for you builds, the heat between her thighs growing wetter with every kiss she takes from you. 

“You are worth… all of my attention...” she breathes out between each one, “all… of my devotion… so sweet…”

Himeko kisses your lips, your jaw, up your cheek and down to your mouth again like she can’t get enough. Your lashes flutter under her affection, and you readily welcome her mouth on yours, your cunt throbbing with arousal. Her hips begin to roll into you, seeking sweet friction, and she swallows the moan that leaves you. She smears her cum on your skin with every rhythmic motion of her body, but it isn’t enough for either of you. Himeko lifts her head and the thin string of saliva connecting your lips breaks on her chin as she straightens up above you, the embers of her eyes alight with both lust and a determination to prove that her heart belongs to you. 

Her chest rises and falls, perky pink nipples adding a soft color to the canvas of her skin. She shifts, settling between our thighs with one leg over yours, and holds it up over her shoulder with a hand. 

“I want to feel you…” 

Himeko lowers herself on you, slick pussy sliding over yours in a messy kiss, and she makes a low noise that is half moan and half groan at the contact. She looks so pretty with her lidded eyes and parted lips, your breathing stutters as she takes what she needs from you and bucks her hips further into your cunt. A quiet moan escapes you and your fingers grab a fistful of the sheets beneath you. You follow her pace, encouraged by her sounds of pleasure and the feeling of her clit bumping into yours. 

“Aeons… Mmnh…” Himeko’s broken sentences are breathless and underlined with pretty moans. She lifts her free hand to cup her breast, long hair draped over her back when her head tilts back.

She feels so good against you, your combined wetness makes it easy to grind into her pussy in search of friction. You’re unable to look away from the flush across her chest, her rosy cheeks and the shine on her lips, greedily taking in the sight of her as if you’ll wake up any moment and find her gone from your bed. Your body is hot, sweat begins to cling to your brow, but you can’t focus on anything but how gorgeous Himeko is and how good her cunt feels like this. She spreads her cum over you, warm and slick. She doesn’t contain the noises that tumble from her mouth, aroused sighs and low hums, and the frequency of them tells you that she’s close to coming. You feel your own orgasm build in your lower belly, begging to burst. 

“H-Hime—” you stammer pathetically, words interrupted by a needy whine. 

Himeko’s gaze connects with yours at the sound of her name uttered so breathlessly. She understands what you mean to say, she’s teetering on the edge herself, and she manages a quiet command.

“Come with me, sweetheart.”

A quiver runs through your thighs as your release washes over you, and Himeko lets out a high-pitched moan at the same time, fingers closing around her nipple. She comes with you, bucking her hips into your pussy to ride her high, her head tilted to the ceiling. Your cum mixes with hers, dripping down your cunt and ruining the sheets below you. You try to steady your thundering heart, a forearm over your forehead. You feel Himeko’s little shivers and hear her heavy breaths before she finally separates from you and resumes her earlier position on top of you. Her nose burrows into your neck, breasts pressed to your torso, and you wrap an arm around her frame to hold her against you. 

It takes a moment before she can speak properly again. 

“I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” The confession is warm against your pulse, directly spoken over your heartbeat. “I’ll prove it as many times as I have to.”

You don’t tell her that you already believe her.

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 2, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none, really. AND THEY WERE POSSIBLE ROOMMATES, MAYBE?

Context: 3k words. Reader is a barista and she only meets Bakugo at the end of this </3. He’s her boss but she doesn’t know. I don’t delve into this tho, just so you know. They’re both 22.

A/N: never thought I’d write a slow burn but I HATE not giving context. This is just me yapping with zero grammar context whatsoever. The reader is super oc in this one, but all the girl names I thought about were UGLY. Let me know what you think about it!

“No.”

“Come onnnn it’s gonna be just this one time” pleads your best friend from the other end of the phone.

“Ochaco, you know I hate when you pull this shit” you reply, while putting your jacket on.

“I knowww, but listen, me and the cute guy have had NO time for ourselves lately and-“

“And you’re leaving me doing this assignment with who knows who? We’re always partners for physics, you know I can’t do it all alone and you can’t phrase your deductions to save your life. We complete each other. You’re my soulmate. Why are you leaving me for a guy?” you whine, while closing the door of your apartment and walking towards your car.

“It’s gonna be just this one time, I promise! It’s not like we’re gonna fail. I think. I hope…” she mumbles.

You sigh. “If we do fail, you’re getting your ass beaten, I am so for real” you concede after thinking about it. You start your car and put your phone on speaker.

“BABEEE I love youuuu! You know you’re the only one for me! I promise to finally tell you all the details on Saturday” she squeals.

You wince. “Nah, I can’t this Saturday. I have to work, manager is on vacay. Maybe Sunday?” you said, knowing she will start rambling.

“Y/N just leave that place, they don’t even value you as a person, let alone as a worker. Plus, your manager is a bitch” Ochaco says sternly. “I still haven’t got over the fact she makes you work double shifts just because she wants to be in Bali with her new stupid tomboy. Who, by the way, cheats on her. You said so yourself, and I heard him and your colleague going at it that one time I came to visit you last week -not Momo, bless her heart, how is she by the way?- oh and he steals her money. And-“

“I need the money, and I do love to make coffees for the nice old ladies that tip me” you interrupt your more-than-protective best friend, knowing that she could go on complaining for hours if you didn’t stop her. “Also, I just got to the cafe and I’m already running late. I’ll text you when I get off, okay? Love you”.

“Yeah yeah. Don’t overwork yourself too much, love you” and you hang up.

You and Ochaco have been friends since you were babies. Your parents were neighbours back in your hometown, and your moms coincidentally got pregnant in a span of 2 months apart from each other. You have been attached to the hip all of your school years, and fortunately you have been accepted at the same campus at university. You moved to different apartments because you wanted to be independent, but you are still living pretty near each other. You are enrolled in literature, while Ochaco has a passion for astronomy; you had chosen physics as a bonus class for some extra credits since Ochaco said it would be easy and you trusted her, but she didn’t take into consideration that you failed math throughout all of high school, and she had to save your ass multiple times in the past. You’ll never forget her face when she got an 86% on one of the graded tests she did for you: she was so disappointed she made you ask the professor to redo the test, which you barely knew the basics of. She got 100%, and the professor congratulated you (her) for being such an overachiever. You never felt more ashamed of yourself and proud of your best friend at the same time. On the other hand, she made you do her English essays on a monthly basis, so she really wasn’t in the place to complain about doing all the dirty work for you.

You had partnered up with her since she was a genius, but she met this “cute guy” a month ago and was head over heels for him. She still hasn’t said his name to you, all you know is that he is a part of the physics course and he apparently just stole your assignment partner.

You sigh inwardly. Sometimes you wished love could come to you as easily as it comes to Ochaco. She is a lover girl at heart, nicer than anybody could ever hope to be, but she sure could bite if she had to. She has been there for some of the worst moments of your life, and you have done the same for her. You really didn’t know what you would do without her. Maybe you should get her an apology pastry from the cafe’s leftovers to make up for the last two missed Saturdays (“they’re for the girls!” she said, and you meticulously met up every week up until you had gotten a job).

You’re a bit distracted by thinking about her when you get into the place you work at. It’s a cute cafe, a little bit too orange for your taste, but it’s cozy enough to make work pleasurable. Plus, it’s 5 minutes from your apartment (15 if you walk, but you are lazy). They pay on time, the coffee is good and the clientele isn’t too bad. If it wasn’t for-

“You’re 32 seconds late. You’re getting a formal complaint this time” says your manager, waiting for you with her arms crossed.

“Put that on the note that says I worked 8 extra hours a week for the last 5 months. Hello to you too, weren’t you supposed to be in the Philippines or whatever by now?” you say sickening sweet, with the fakest smile you can muster, while you pass next to her to get to the room behind the register.

“Shut your smart mouth up before I get you fired!” she almost screams. Some of the people at the table near her look at her like she’s crazy before going back to their cappuccino.

“My oh my miss Utsushimi, it’s not nice to use that tone before the rush hour” you reply, giving an apologetic look at your regulars next to her.

“Mpfh, whatever. Close up this place when you’re done, the boss will probably be in to ask you for the keys at the end of your shift. I’ll be MIA for the next two weeks, bye” she says to you. Then she turns around and smiles sweetly at the clients who previously looked at her with distaste and lies “pregnancy hormones I hope, me and my man are trying for a baby, I’m sorry for scaring you!”. You know damn well she had an IUD appointment last week, because she made you work instead of working herself. Fake bitch.

Without saying anything else, she leaves the place.

“I hate her ass so much”, says someone next to you.

You snicker. “Who doesn’t, Momo?” you face her with a genuine smile.

“Never leave me alone with her ever again, you know I can’t survive this place without you, work wifey” she kisses your cheek fast, before going back to making coffee for a client at the register.

“Ochaco will be hearing about this and she’ll slap you” you laugh heartily.

“I love her too, she’s my work wifey’s wifey, so she’s basically my wifey” she winks at you.

After a few more laughs here and there, you both go back to work like usual.

A couple of hours pass and it’s closing time. Momo waves you goodbye, clocking out. “I’m so tired I could sleep on the floor right now” she whines.

“Yeah, how about no. Let’s go, babe. We don’t want to drag Y/N’s time” says her boyfriend, Shoto, who shoots you a nod of acknowledgement before placing a hand on her lower back and escorting her out of the cafe. “I remember suffering at closing times, let’s leave her be and go home” he nudges your colleague, smiling down at her. He has been inside the cafe a lot in the years you’ve worked here, sometimes picking Momo up. Momo says he was one of the best bartenders the cafe ever had, but he found a job that payed him more and he decided to leave. You couldn’t blame him.

“See you soon, you two lovebirds!” you reply, waving a hand of your own.

Now all alone since even the waiters have gone home, you clean up the counter before packing up the pastry for Ochaco.

“Damn, I have to wait for the boss to give him the keys” you remember, rubbing your face.

You wait 45 minutes before a redhead makes his way into the cafe. He seems busy on the phone with someone.

“I’m here, let me just get- fuck no I don’t wanna talk to Camie about it, Baku- no, wait- fire? Are you going to take her place and finally come down here like the boss you are? Yes, I know- what? And where would we- what do I have to do with all of this? No, I’m going home- fuck, he hung up” the man sighs, before turning his body towards you.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, not really manly from me” he smiles, looking sorry.

“Oh don’t worry about it!” your smile was really stretched, and you think he notices, because he says “sorry” again. “The manager said to give you the keys. So you’re the boss?” you say politely, stretching your hand with the keys towards him.

You’ve seen him multiple times, he’s a regular. He always gets the same order (one black coffee and one hot chocolate with extra cinnamon), and he always tips you and Momo well. Today he seems distressed.

“I wouldn’t wish to be the boss, to be fair. You could say I’m his right hand. Where’s Camie? Boss needs to talk to her in private before next week comes” he sighs.

“She said she’ll be gone for two weeks” you reply, confused.

“And who said she could do that?” Kirishima, you think that’s his name since you’ve written it on his order just yesterday, looks at you in disbelief. You shrug. “I don’t ask. The less I know about her, the better I feel about working here”. You start to pack your things up, before going towards the door with the man following behind you closely.

“This is nuts. I hate doing job interviews” he mumbles fast, turning the key in the lock. You raise an eyebrow, what is he even talking about?

“Do you live near? If not, I could give you a ride. I’d hate losing the only barista who makes boss man’s drink good enough to not make him pissy” he says, while pointing to his car.

You laugh. “It’s just a hot chocolate. Tell him he should try it with a few drops of hot sauce in it. Sounds disgusting but it’s actually pretty good. Also don’t worry, I live just down the street”. He nods and you wave each other goodbye.

“It does sound horrible. Thanks again for waiting, see you tomorrow for the same exact order I always make” he grins, then gets in his car and drives away, not after seeing you get in your car as well.

Once at home you call Ochaco, who’s “been worried sick, you never get home this late”.

“Y/N you seriously need a roommate. Did you even eat?” she reprimands.

You sigh. “I have to meet someone tomorrow. But you know, girls tend to look at you weirdly when you say you need them to know how to cook. They feel like you’re looking for a maid. Like, I can’t eat sandwiches every day like I did with the last roommate I had” you explain while opening your fridge. Sausages and smashed potatoes from yesterday will do the job for today.

“The psycho who thought vegetables made her look weak? Freak” you hear your best friend snicker. “At what time are they coming over?”

You groan and say “8 am. It’s a guy this time. Who wakes up before 8 am at uni? He’s already lost 2 points for this” while gulping down your food.

Ochaco’s snicker is now a full laugh. “People who have their lives together, maybe? But pay attention, males scare me” she replies quieting down.

“Yeah yeah. I’m gonna sleep now, text me the deets for Sunday, okay?” you clean your plate and go to the bathroom to wash your teeth.

“Will doooo. Good night, babe” she smooches on the mic before hanging up.

After making sure you locked your apartment door, you go to your bed, where you manage to fall asleep in thirty seconds.

The next morning you’re brutally awakened by the sound of your doorbell. You look at your phone screen: 7:42 am.

“Who the fuck is it now?” you grumble, before going down the stairs and looking through your peephole.

“Shitty hair I swear if this takes me more than 10 minutes… she hasn’t even opened the door. Yeah, she said 8 am, who cares if I’m early? I AM NOT the only one awake on a Saturday morning. Y’all are just lazy fucks” a blonde rudely says into his phone. You can hear him talking loudly from behind the door. You widen your eyes, before screaming “coming! Give me 5 minutes!” and rushing towards your bathroom to make yourself presentable. “Fuck, I forgot about the roommate appointment” you whine, while putting on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. At least they are clean.

You open the door to find a broad man staring at you menacingly. He’s kinda tall, kinda (really) fit, kinda underdressed for the winter. Kinda hot, too.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you offer him the nicest smile your still sleepy mind can muster.

He looks you up and down, before focusing on your face and levelling you with an indifferent look.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Katsuki Bakugo, we had to meet at 8 am for the spare room offer. I've been here for 15 minutes” he gruffly declares.

You add “rude” to your list of “kinda”. You don’t like his tone. -1 point.

“Yeah, and it’s 7:48” you bite back, your smile faltering while shaking his outstretched hand. He’s definitely going to the gym with the callouses he has.

“Come in, I’ll let you see what you’re getting yourself into”, you say, opening your door more.

You live in a nice apartment, you think. There’s a nice kitchen with a nice island that also serves as a table in front of it, a blueish couch in front of the tv, and a couple of steps that bring you to a corridor with three doors: your room, the spare one and the bathroom.

You describe everything while he stays in absolute silence next to you. It makes you feel uneasy. -1 point.

You just finished showing him the bathroom and are ready to tell him you don’t think he’s a good suitor when he finally speaks up.

“And how much do you pay for this shit?” he asks. Nice voice, you think. Gravelly and rough enough to not sound annoyingly forced. +1 point.

“500 a month” you reply, while returning to the kitchen.

“Your shower needs some work done, it leaks. Also, mold is starting to show on the bathroom ceiling, might wanna check on that. Your oven looks unusable in the condition it’s in. Small tv. At least you’re clean from what I've seen” he begins to say.

You frown and turn to look at him. Did this bitch talk for the first time in 15 minutes only to complain?

“Do you even know how to cook with said oven?” you say, ignoring everything else he just said, and giving him a nasty look.

He tsks. “Yes. Is this your way of asking me to cook you fucking breakfast? I don’t eat with lazy people who get out of bed at 11 am” he makes sure to say.

You scoff. Men really do find the audacity to say stuff like this nowadays? It seems like you've been out of the loop for too much.

“You showed up early. It’s a sign of disrespect, you know? Also no, I know how to fix myself something. I just don’t want you to burn my kitchen down to a crisp and smell takeout whenever I get home” you say in the rudest way you find possible.

He smirks before saying “might wanna check on that fucking attitude of yours too before I poison your food”, tapping your shoulder to get you out of the way and take out some pans. You showed him where to find them earlier on.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you say in disbelief. “This is still my kitchen. Get out”.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m making you fucking breakfast to say sorry for interrupting your princess sleep. Just make coffee while I come up with something. If you know how to make it, that is” he doesn’t even look at you while getting eggs, milk and bread out of the fridge.

You’re baffled. He’s making himself at home when you didn’t even say he was accepted.

“Wait, you’re still not-“

“I'll give you the money at the start of every month. I’ll paint the walls of the room, I hate that fucking green, but painters are scammers so I’m doing it myself. I’m clean, I’ll just need a spare key in a matter of days to take my shit here. I’ll keep myself in my room if you keep yourself in yours. Any further requests?” he interrupts you, assembling his french toasts on the pan.

You’re even more stunned. But you’ve always been quick with your thoughts, so you come up with something.

“I’ll say yes if those french toasts are good. If they’re not, your ass is out” you say, still not looking at him, while making coffee.

“Might say yes if you know how to make a hot chocolate from scratch instead of the poor coffee that machine will make” he watches you from the corner of his eye. You scoff, you’re a barista nonetheless: who does he think he’s talking to? Meanwhile, he could swear he knew you from somewhere.

“Deal”.

“Deal”.

Neither to say, the french toasts were “not that bad” and your hot chocolate was “barely fucking acceptable”.

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS A LOSING GAME

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: jake's attempt to see his girl the week before finals backfires on him leading them to their first fight and an outcome neither of them saw coming.

wc: 3.8k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), angst galore, swearing, mentions of alcohol and weed, drunk driving (don't do it), bad parental relationships, academic pressure

part of the loving you universe || also find it on ao3 here

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Finals sucked. Balancing studying and your social life sucked. Balancing studying, your social life, and your relationship sucked. This was the third week you’ve had to drive Jake away and you hated it. In the beginning he was understanding, giving you a kiss to your forehead when you asked him to leave. Or dropping by the apartment with some take out because he knew you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d even send the occasional Don’t forget to hydrate! text, to which he would get nothing more than a thumbs up in response. 

He got it, really he did. He understood how much your studies meant to you. You made it very clear at the beginning of your relationship that you weren’t going to drop everything for him. And he respected that. Hell, he admired you for it. He definitely didn’t have the guts to do it.  But it’s been three weeks of him trying to chase you down. Three weeks of quick hugs in passing and good night and good morning texts. Jake missed you. He missed you so fucking much and it seemed like you’ve barely given him a second thought. 

Jake knew he was being irrational. Of course you missed him. You wouldn’t have promised him to go out to lunch today if you didn’t. Yet here he was sitting alone at your favorite diner, reaching the top of the hour, and you still hadn’t shown up. His leg is bouncing up and down impatiently and the apples of his cheeks are red in embarrassment. An older couple a few booths away eye him with pitiful looks and not so silently whisper to each other, Poor boy got stood up. 

He checks his phone for the fifth time in the last three minutes to find no texts or calls from you. Jake desperately tries again, clicking on your contact and sending a distressed Where are you??? He barely waits another minute until he’s calling you once more. 

“Hey, this is Ace, sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message–Jake, stop tickling me! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”

“Unless you're a guy. In that case lose this number! She’s taken!” 

“Jake!” 

He sighs longingly at the sound of the dial tone, remembering the day you two recorded that message. Jake hadn’t seen you in so long. You felt like a lifetime ago. He missed his girl so much that his chest hurt. He’s frustrated beyond comprehension. Before he can even take a second to think about what he’s doing, he slams a wad of dollar bills onto the table, storms out of the diner, and hops into his truck like a man on a mission. 

Jake reaches your apartment in record time. Looking back on it now, he probably should’ve just called Nat, Bob, or Mickey. They would know where you were. Though in his defense, he took your radio silence as a sign that something was wrong. Maybe you were hurt or in trouble and couldn’t reach your phone. In this day and age, anything seemed possible. Could you blame him for being paranoid? 

Hastily making his way to the second floor, he barely blinks an eye until he makes it to the front of your apartment door. The faded gold 86 number plaque is staring him straight in the face and he can barely remember the last time he saw it. Out of respect for you, in case he really was overthinking things, he knocks on the door once. Twice. Three times. 

When he still doesn’t get a response, his heart begins to race, breathing heavy. He fumbles with his keys, fingers trembling as he tries to find the bright pink Hello Kitty replica key to your apartment. So it’s easy to find in emergencies, you had reasoned with him. He thought you were teasing him in the moment, but right now he has never been more thankful for your sharp thinking. 

He jams the key into the knob, turning it counterclockwise a little too strongly, and bursts through the door by his shoulders. 

“Ace?” He hollers into the quiet apartment. 

Jake looks around for any signs that you were there, only to be met with a spick and span living room and kitchen. Curse your stress cleaning intuition. He practically runs down the hall to your room. He sees nothing but your door and the yellow light illuminating from beneath. 

He’s barely thinking as he barrels into your room. He all but falls to the floor as you bolt up from your desk chair at the sight of him. 

“Jake?” You exclaim, rushing over to where he has fallen onto your floor. 

You grab him by the elbows, gently pulling him up. He groans into your touch, just now realizing how much he missed the feeling of your skin on his. Jake has to bite his tongue to stop the moan that wants to leave his lips. 

“Jesus, Ace, you scared me,” he breathes, steadying himself in your hold. Standing back up on his feet, he releases his hold on your arms and brings them up to your face. “You okay?” 

You nod as he continues to look you up and down with concern shining in his eyes. It makes you laugh lightly when he squishes your cheeks just a little more. “I’m fine, are you okay? I think I almost gave you a heart attack…” 

Jake opens his mouth to speak when a slightly staticy sounding voice cuts him off. 

“Hey, Ace? I think I’ll just call you later, yeah?” 

Jake’s heart drops to his stomach at the sound, and not in the way it did when you kissed him for the first time. This feeling was something less comforting and much more painful. It made him want to throw up on your linoleum floor. 

“Yeah, yeah Connor, I’ll call you back later,” you say, rushing back to your desk where your phone was lying face up on an open FaceTime call. You don’t even wait for him to say goodbye as you end the call. 

A burning heat crawls its way up Jake’s features. He’s sure his cheeks are probably inflamed in dark red. Who the hell was Connor and how the hell did you have time for him and not for your own boyfriend? 

“Jake?” You call out, breaking him from the fury that begins to build up in his chest. 

He doesn’t want to be that guy. He will not be that guy. He trusts you and he knows you would never do that to him. That still doesn’t stop the hurt that floods his senses. 

His mouth is open before he can even process the rest. “Do you know what today is?” 

You look at him with wide eyes and your lips quirked downward. “Saturday?” 

He hums. “Yeah, the Saturday we were supposed to have lunch at–” He pauses, giving you the benefit of the doubt. Hoping that you hadn’t forgotten and were just running late. But you don’t jump in and that makes his heart hurt even more. You just continue to look at him questioningly in a way that he would’ve found adorable in any other circumstance. “Rosie’s,” He finishes for you. “We were supposed to have lunch at Rosie’s.” 

“Rosie’s, shit!” You come rushing back towards him, grabbing his hands. You caress the back of his hands with your thumbs and you can only hope that he could feel how sorry you are; how horrible you feel for forgetting about your date. “I’m so, so sorry, Jake. I just caught up with…” 

“Connor,” he deadpans. “Yeah, I know.” 

He doesn’t meet your eye, and you pout at his clear irritation. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. I can do next Saturday? We could do Rosie’s then walk down the coast by The Hard Deck.” 

Jake doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs–much too harshly for your taste. “Oh, I don’t know, I’m afraid my girlfriend won’t be available again. Or worse, she might even forget.” 

You drop his hands, stepping back with obvious hurt in your eyes. “I’m sorry, what else do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe that you’ll try harder to make some time for me? I haven’t heard from you in days! Hell, I haven’t seen you in weeks! Yet, somehow, you have the time of day to call this Connor dude, on the day we’re supposed to see each other!” 

You’re pacing the floor with your own anger bubbling up inside you. You clench your fist before pointing at him with your other hand. “It is not my fault that finals are right around the corner! I have been studying my ass off night and day. Which you obviously wouldn’t understand.” You take a deep breath. “As for Connor, we were just studying together! Something that I can’t do with you!” 

“Cheap hit, Ace.” It was a known fact that he wasn’t the best at academics, but you knew better than anyone how hard he was trying, making your words hurt more than he cared to admit. Jake exhales deeply from his mouth, attempting to calm his beating heart so he doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean. “Finals aren’t until another week! All I’m asking for is a day. Just one day.” 

“It’s not just finals, Jake,” you groan. “Not to me, you know that.” The two of you have been going in circles for the last fifteen minutes. You get where Jake is coming from, really you do. But you also need him to understand you. He knew going into this how important your studies were to you. One day could jeopardize your entire study schedule. 

“I know. But is it so bad for me to want to spend some time with my girlfriend? I mean, we haven’t gone on a proper date in months. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time we had an actual conversation!” 

You turn to him with narrowed eyes, furiously shutting your physics book. “So now I’m the bad guy? It’s my fault that we can’t hang out?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Jake frustratingly runs his hands through his already messy blond hair. He doesn’t know what to do with the overwhelming flood of emotions passing over him. 

You’re sat on the edge of your bed now, too worked up from all your pacing. “You know, I just don’t get you, Seresin. I’ve asked if you wanted to sit in with me. You’ve denied me every time.”

The sound of his last name falling from your lips feels like salt in an open wound. He hasn’t heard you call him that in ages. He knows he’s in deep shit now, but his pride won’t let him admit it. “Sweetheart, it’s not my fault that I don’t find Plato and standard deviation appealing, ” he sasses. 

“So, what? You’d rather I go out and party all night because, ‘Hey! It’s just finals!’” You throw your hands up in anguish as you deepen your voice in a clearly mocking tone of his voice. 

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do you even hear yourself right now, Ace? You need to take a break! I’m trying to look out for you. It’s not healthy to be cooped up inside like this all day.” 

“Well, I’m sorry I have other priorities that don’t involve you, Jake,” you sigh. 

“And yet, you don’t have a problem making Connor one of them,” he sneers. 

“He’s helping me study!” 

“I offered to help you study, but instead you told me to sit back because you could do it yourself.” He swallows harshly, feeling the reality of your admission sink in. 

If it hadn’t been for the tension between the two of you, you would’ve been able to bite your tongue and let the moment pass. However, you were so high strung at the moment that you let your temper get the best of you. “Well, it’s not my fault that I can’t just charm my professors and tutors into giving me a pass. Unlike some people, I have actually put in the work.” The moment the words leave your lips, you regret it. Jake’s shoulders fall and you see the way he visibly deflates and shrinks into himself. You desperately want to take it back, but you did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you felt guilty. 

A moment of silence passes between you both. The only sound to be heard is the heavy breathing that escapes you both. 

Amidst the silence, Jake stifles the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes by running a hand down his face. Of all the people to insult his intelligence, you were the last person he ever expected to do so. Not once, even before you started dating, had you said anything about how he struggled with school. Sure, you got frustrated with him, but you of all people knew how much work he put into his studies. Unlike everyone else, you were able to see him as something more than the dumb blond frat boy people joked that he was. When everyone else would claim to be teasing Jake about his studies, you were always the first to stand up for him. Saying, Jake Seresin is capable of more than you know!, making him feel validated and more confident in himself. Now, your words felt like a slap to the face and for the first time, he found himself questioning everything you’ve said about him. 

He should’ve known the honeymoon phase wouldn’t last forever. Everything was going so well, he didn’t have any reason to think things would go downhill so fast. Of course, Jake was too overconfident about your infatuation with him. He shouldn’t have assumed that you were as in love with him as he was with you. That was his first mistake. 

“You know what? I really thought you were different,” he says softly. 

“Jake–” Take it back! The voice in your head shouts. Take it back, you idiot! But the apology, the words of affirmation, the reassurances–they all get stuck in the back of your throat like molasses. 

“I guess I was wrong about you, Ace.” 

You furiously shake your head. You didn’t mean it, you swear you didn’t mean it. In the heat of the moment, you let your emotions get the best of you. You knew it wasn’t an excuse, but you needed him to know that you would never mean what you said. 

You thought the world of Jake Seresin. He is smart and he has so much potential. He was better than you at physics and knew all the parts to an F/A-18 Super Hornet. He could calculate distance, time, and speed, like it was nobody's business. He impressed you in so many ways and you were so proud of him and how much he has improved. Deep down, you knew he was right too. This wasn’t healthy. You should’ve tried harder to make time for him after everything he has done for you. But the shame of the hurt you’ve caused, the shame of what you did prevented you from saying it. 

“You know what? You can have all the time you need with Connor because I’m done.” 

You push yourself to a stand with teary eyes. “Done? Jake, what are you saying?” It was like a nightmare come true, hearing the words you’ve feared to hear since the moment you called it official. But it was probably inevitable, right? You always bring yourself to your own demise. You’re not sure what hurt you more–Jake’s words or the fact that you weren’t so surprised to hear him say it? It was almost like you were waiting for this day to come, knowing Jake Seresin was just too good to be true. 

His heart is fighting against itself. One part of him is begging him to stay and work this out with you. The other is too hurt to even look at you right now. In the end, he ends up listening to the side of him he didn’t even think existed until now: the side that didn’t want him to be with you. “I don’t know. I think I need some time.” 

You nod, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need, Jake.” 

He sighs before turning on his heel and grabbing the door knob. 

“Wait,” your voice cracks. “I love you.” 

Jake swings the door open and leaves. It takes everything in him to not turn around and gather you up in his arms right then and there. For the first time, he doesn’t say it back. 

__________

You don’t see him for a week after that. You’re so distraught that you throw your entire study schedule out the window. This was all your fault. You know it is, there was no denying it. All Jake wanted was to be with you and you couldn’t give him that. You were so obsessed with the fact that everyone expected you to get perfect grades each semester, that you didn’t even notice you driving away one of the most important people in your life who didn’t care about any of that. That loved you with or without the academic achievements. The only person who cared more about your wellbeing than your stupid grade point average. 

The truth is, you were scared. Things with Jake have been going so good that the fear of something bursting into your little bubble and setting it all aflame only continued to intensify. 

Because you don’t deserve good things unless you earn it, your mother had warned. Because you can’t be loved unless you’re perfect, your father berated you. 

And you are far from perfect, you know that. You also knew that Jake wasn’t your parents. But no matter how many times you told yourself your parents were wrong, their words continued to seep in every single time Jake reminded you that love shouldn’t be conditional. 

So you did what you did best, you studied. You strived for perfection. You hoped that Jake could see that you were worth sticking around for. 

He left and in the end, it just confirmed that nothing you do could guarantee anyone to stay. 

You ended up failing your finals. They don’t hurt your overall grade too much, only bringing them down one letter grade from your solid A’s. 

You don’t tell anyone about the fight you had with Jake. You don’t want to burden them with anything else. Everyone was busy. Nat was happy with Javy and Bob and Mickey were busy planning their San Diego Comic Con trip. You hadn’t talked to Bradley and you assumed that Jake had already told him everything. You hadn’t even texted Reuben about joining him for trivia night at a nearby bar. 

But you do text Jake. You don’t know if he’s read any of them or not, but you text him anyway. You told him that you failed. You told him that you weren’t planning on going home for the summer because you didn’t want to face your parents. You told him you missed him and that you hoped this isn’t the end. But most importantly, you told him that you loved him and that if you could take it all back you would. 

You so desperately wanted to knock on his door and apologize for what you said. To continue apologizing until he knew it in his heart and soul that you didn’t mean a damn thing. You’d imagine how it would go. He would open the door and you would quite literally pour your heart out to him. Then you’d throw your arms around him and tell him you love him before kissing him senseless. 

You imagine that he’d smile against your lips, an action that you loved so much. He’d pull away and tell you that he forgives you. He would hold you close and tell you that he still loves you. 

However, you weren’t naive. He probably hated you now and you wouldn’t blame him if he actually did because you hate yourself too. 

Heartbroken and intoxicated to the bone is how you find yourself after another unanswered text to Jake. You remember him telling you to let loose and take a break so that is exactly what you did. 

The frat house is loud. You’re not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you showed up to a frat party without telling any of your friends or that you’ve had more alcohol than the amount of water you’ve had in a day. 

Everyone knew about Delta Chi’s rivalry with Alpha Sig, so you didn’t have to worry about running into anyone you knew here. 

You had lost count of how many drinks you’ve had three cups ago and you’re a bit impressed with your own resilience considering how much you hate the smell of alcohol, let alone the taste of it. You find yourself wishing that Jake were here to see you taking a break. That way you could prove to him that you were capable of doing things for him too. 

The Alpha Sig house is packed to the brim with people. Everyone’s faces are a blur as you stumble your way through the crowded rooms and hallways, following the smells of sweat and weed to take you where you want to go. 

You end up making your way to the patio and meeting some Alpha Sigs and sorority girls who were planning on driving into the city to hang out at a bar instead. They shockingly invite you to tag along and your inebriated self happily accepts. 

You find yourself forgetting all about Jake, grades, and your shitty parents. You were just a girl in college who stopped giving a fuck and decided to have some fun. As you continue to giggle with some of the girls in the backseat of a car you don’t even remember getting into, for a moment, you see yourself with Nat, Javy, Bradley, Mickey, Reuben, and Bob. You hear Bradley’s dad jokes and Natasha’s giggles. Mickey and Reuben’s obnoxious singing and Bob’s own laughter follows. Then you see the guy sitting beside you with his arm around you. It takes you a second to recognize that his eyes aren’t your favorite shade of green. Hell, they weren’t green at all. 

Your world comes crashing down in an instant. You’re not with your friends and you’re not with Jake. You don’t even know where and who you are with. You just know that you want to go home, that you want to be with Jake. 

Before you can even think about begging the person in the driver’s seat to stop the car, you hear a scream then suddenly, your vision goes dark. 

a/n: in my defense, i haven't done a good angsty fic in awhile*immediately goes into hiding* pls don’t hate me….. and again, as always the inbox is always open and thank you all for reading!!

a/n 2: also ty @intrepidacious for giving me their first fight idea it was a big help!!

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[mrslectermoriarty]

Headcanon Series #16

Ice and Mav finally get their shit together after the Uranium mission. Don't ask me how, theories in the comments. Anyway, they kiss in public - on base or something, it looked very dramatic - they become a couple and the next morning Ice walks into the building he works in (enter important navy office) and half the officers he passes look very pissed at him, ready to bite his head off. Especially older ones he's known since the 90s or so. Most of them grumble some unfriendly sounding greetings into his direction. Some of the younger ones though smile at him with such happiness and sometimes clap his shoulder or congrate him, he can't really comprehend what's happening.

He shrugs it off and enters his office, only to find out his long time secretary and dear friend Mrs. Lesser is about to leave. For a vacation. She's never taken a vacation before. Sure, some free time over the holidays or when Ice took a break from work, but never longer than a couple days. Now she's gone for a few weeks.

The weird events continue when two hours later, a mad looking Admiral Hanson stands in his door and rants something about Tom being childish and stupid and how he could do such a thing. "Seriously, Tom. All those years and now you gotta pull a stunt like that? I thought better of you."

After the third officer passing his office and muttering something among the lines of "Really great, Kazansky," Tom calls for a meeting. He's the COMPACFLT after all. He outranks most people in the building. And this seems rather serious.

"Gentlemen, I am at loss for words. Your overall behaviour today has not only been out of line for work but also simply disrespectful. If this has anything to do with the events from yesterday, I can only say I am disappointed. We are professionals and the government, the state and the people depend on our work. We can't let something from any of our private lifes affect us like this. We're grown men and we should be able to handle such things like grown men. We can only function as a united front."

There's an audible huff at the other end of the table, coming from Admiral Marcus. "Easy to say for you, you got the guy you've been thirsting over for the last 40 years, I lost about 600$ because of you and Mitchell." Admiral James, who sits next to him elbows him. Tom's eyebrow start to wander. "How exactly do you loose 600$ because of me? Please, elaborate."

Opposite from Marcus and James, Admiral Cameron pulls a thick folder from under the table and slides it over to Tom. Whispers and even gasps erupt. "It's over, so he might as well know now."

Tom opens the folder and is greeted with a long list of people, dates that reach back to the 80's and huge amounts of cash written down. Between the pages are various copied documents of conversations between him and Mav, pictures of them together on various occasions and hand-scribbled notes with more dates and different statements on them. Tom's eyebrows almost disappear in his hairline. "What is this?", he quietly asks, afraid of an honest answer.

Cameron sighs and speaks up: "Some guys from your Topgun Class apparently started this in 86'. It was about when you and Mitchell would get your shit together and do something against that unresolved tension between the two of you. They expanded their list with every squadron you both were in because you guys weren't subtle at all but also extremly stupid and the rest got a kick out of betting who'd give in first and when this would happen. At the ceremony in the 00's, when you got your stars, an Admiral got a hold on the list and decided to join. He brought it over here and no-one couldn't really resist. And now we heard of you and Mitchell eventually putting an end to this. Of course people are pissed, they bet way to high on the wrong guy or year!"

Tom's eyes skim down the list. It seems like every person he's known inside the Navy has their name written down on the yellowing paper. He spots Mrs. Lesser on there and let's out a surprised chuckle. "Marywas really good. Got almost 3000$ out of this. No wonder she's on vacation." He drages his hand over his face to regain some grip on the situation.

"I can't even- how did you manage to hide this from me for so long?", is the only question he gets out. James laughs. "We're the military. We have our ways." By now the whole table is chuckling or whispering in amusement. Tom can only shake his head, but also smiles. "Can I take this home? I need this in a proper display on my office wall. Or maybe over the dinner table. And you are all invited to an apology-BBQ."

Okay, I know this was weird, but in my head I can see so many people in the Navy that just see Pete and Tom working together and they think like "Yeah, these two are totally gonna end up together." I love people shipping IceMav, I'm sorry.

[ali-r3n]

After Show

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Eddie takes care of his girl after her first Rock Concert

Fluff

Eddie could feel Y/N’s hot breath on the back of his neck as he carried her from the venue to the car.

Half asleep, she grumbled when he hitched her up his back to be able to get his keys from his pocket.

“I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

She nuzzled her nose under the collar of his band shirt and leather jacket before she settled.

He managed to unlock the passenger side door of his van and open it with the limited mobility he had. He let out a sigh as he stared at the sizable space between the ground and the chair.

“This should be interesting,” he murmured.

It took a bit of creative problem solving and a nearly thrown out back, but Eddie Munson still managed to get his beloved girlfriend in the seat without waking her.

He buckled her in and shut the door. He gave a stretch to loosen his sore back as he walked to the drivers side.

He turned the volume dial of his radio down before he switched on his car and began the two hour journey back to Hawkins.

Every now and then, he looked over at Y/N. Her head laid against the headrest, her mouth opened and released soft snores. Her chest rose and fell under the matching tour tee he bought with each of her steady breaths.

He grinned, satisfied. Her first ever live metal concert a success.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Metalhead pulled up to his trailer and shut off the ignition. He climbed out of the van, and jogged over to the passengers side. The creak of the metal door made him grit his teeth. He held his breath until it was fully open. When he saw her undisturbed, he exhaled.

He grabbed the belt before he unbuckled the seatbelt so that it wouldn't go sliding up and hit her. He gently picked her up. Eddie cradled Y/N in his arms and carried her up to his trailer, using his hip to close the van door.

“Eddie,” she mumbled against his neck, sleepily. “Are we home yet?”

He smiled at the fact she considered his trailer as home. “Almost there, Baby. A few more steps."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie placed her onto his bed. She gave a little stretch before she rolled over and snuggled into his pillow.

He touched the back of her head and ran his ringed fingers through her hair before he leaned in to press a kiss to her temple.

He walked to the end of the bed and gently removed her beat up converse. He stared at the light wash denim she wore.

"Sweetheart," he whispered.

"Hmm?" she responded.

"Is it okay if I take your jeans off so that you can be more comfortable?"

"Pajama pants?"

"Yes. I'll give you my pajama pants."

"The plaid ones."

"Yup."

"Okay," she mumbled before she buried her face into his pillow.

He removed her jeans and replaced them with his well worn plaid PJ pants. He grabbed the blanket off of the end of the bed and draped it over her.

He kicked off his own shoes and removed his jeans, vest, and leather jacket. Eddie climbed in behind her and pressed his chest to her back. His arm wrapped around her waist and gently held her.

Y/N unconsciously snuggled back into him. Eddie grinned into her hair as his eyes slipped shut.

"Night, Eddie."

“Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie Munson Taglist:

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@sarai-ibn-la-ahad @livslifeonline @strangerthingsstories5255 @becca-alexa @aactuaaltraash @wren-2-d @mordechaisworld @spacedoutdaydreamer @warlockwithfrogs

Stranger Things Taglist:

@valeriiecameron @maruushkka @rainbows-dreams @april-foolish

Stranger Things (Billy excluded) Taglist;

@sleepyhead1456

[kazanskys-mitchell]

okay so someone sent me an ask about my headcanons for maverick and i had some technical difficulties. but here they are anyway!

again, these are random and some will be icemav related

first and foremost, maverick has been bi since before tg 86, i like to think that’s what goose meant by the “carnal knowledge, of a lady this time” comment

mav’s favorite color is blue, but only the shade of blue that’s on ice’s helmet

loves animals, more of a dog person. but will adopt as many strays and rescues (dogs and cats) as he can because they all deserve a loving home

likes to draw, is really good at it. has a sketchbook from when he was in top gun, full of drawings of jets and probably ice. ice finds the sketches years later and teases him (again, lovingly)

is a drama queen when he’s sick. when he has a cold or even his allergies act up, he makes it everyone’s problem. he also does it so that ice takes care of him

if he’s hurt from something happening while flying, he brushes it off like it’s no big deal. flying can’t take him out but a cold can

refuses to ask for help with simple things. i love the headcanon that he has to climb on the counter to get to something on the top shelf of a kitchen cabinet. ice always catches him and just sighs

needs to drink coffee in the morning immediately after he wakes up. he will probably consume at least 3 cups within the first hour of waking up

he loves to build things. anything. he’s a master at building legos and model planes. it’s what keeps him occupied in his retirement

can cook very simple things, like spaghetti, tacos, etc. he cooks on the nights that ice doesn’t feel like it

loves to use nicknames for absolutely everyone. it’s a bit of a weird thing for everyone to get used to, but it’s how mav shows his affection. he also loves to give hugs (i feel like that one’s obvious but still)

keep sending me these, i love answering them! i’ve got a lot of thoughts and need to get them out somehow

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter two

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: my taglist was getting messy so I created a sign up form! please complete and indicate your fic preferences. even if you're already being tagged, I'd really appreciate if you'd complete this! link for the sign up is here

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Bucky knocked twice on her front door and waited for about three minutes before knocking again. The door flew open and Y/N stood in front of him, clad in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of bike shorts.

“Can I help you,” she phrased it more as a statement than a question.

“Did you forget about our plans, doll?” he asked.

“You were serious?” she retorted.

“As the plague.” They squared off in an unspoken staring contest until Y/N finally blinked.

She sighed, “Fine. I’ll give you an hour.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” She grabbed her keys and slid on a pair of converse and Bucky smiled to himself. He loved that she was going to a party in an oversized T-shirt and no makeup on. She truly didn’t care what anyone thought of her and she wasn’t there to impress anyone. Little did she know that her IDGAF attitude was impressing him.

“How did you even know where I live? Creep.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m not letting you evade that question. I need to make sure you aren’t actually stalking me.”

“My friends live next door. You’re always banging on the wall telling us to keep it down.”

“Ah, so you’re one of the degenerates. It’s all making sense now.”

“Well you’re on a date with one of the degenerates, so what does that make you?”

“This is not a date.”

“Oh no? Then what is it?”

“We are going to a party.”

“We are going to a party…together. Which is a date.”

“What if I turn around and go home…alone. What is that considered?”

“Come on doll, don’t do that.” She stood there frozen, glaring at him. “Stay for one drink and then, if you want, I’ll take you home.”

“Fine. And stop calling me doll.” They continued walking in silence. Bucky wanted to talk to her but he wasn’t going to risk pissing her off. 

“Where are we going anyway?” she asked, breaking the tension. 

“Some frat party. I told some people I would make an appearance. It’s not much further.”

“Really, a frat party? I haven’t been to one of those since freshman year.”

“If it helps, it’s one of the nicer frats.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Think of it like a walk down memory lane. You can relive your younger days and impart your wisdom on the underclassmen.”

“Oh, well in that case, I can’t wait!” she said with false enthusiasm. They walked up the sidewalk towards the surprisingly immaculate mansion. The only sign of the fraternity was the three greek letters mounted by the front door. Bucky walked through the entrance like he owned the place. He walked right past the pledges who were collecting entry fees without a blink of an eye and led her into the kitchen which was packed with people. Music from the basement was flowing into the room and there was a crowd circled around a keg, seeking a fresh pour. Bucky pulled two shot glasses out of a drying rack full of dishes and placed them on the counter as he retrieved a flask from his back pocket. 

“Whiskey okay?” he asked, as he filled the shot glasses. She nodded and they clinked the glasses together before downing the dark liquor.

“You bring your own liquor to these things?” she asked.

“If you want cheap liquor that’s been poured into a top-shelf bottle, go for it.”

“I’m not complaining, just curious.”

“Call it trust issues.” Before she could ask any other questions, he opened a cooler and pulled out two cans of cheap beer. He swiftly cracked them both and handed one to her. She immediately chugged close to half the can and Bucky looked at her with concern.

“It’s weird being here sober,” she explained.

“Can’t say I blame you,” he said. He passed her the flask and she took a quick swig and handed it back to him. He did the same and their night began.

Bucky couldn’t figure out when he’d lost her. They started the night at the beer pong table, defeating every challenger that came their way until they were coerced into playing flip cup. Bucky shouldn’t have been surprised that she was good at drinking games; she was competitive by nature. He had assumed she was always on the field or studying, but she also seemed to have a talent for drinking. Or so he thought.

He heard a roar of cheers coming from the other room and he followed the sound, hoping to find Y/N. And boy did he find her. She was standing on the pool table as “Hypnotize” by Notorious B.I.G. started blasting from the speakers. She started dancing on the table like she was in the club, rolling her hips and flipping her hair. She was either completely oblivious to the crowd of fraternity brothers surrounding her makeshift stage or she didn’t care. She dropped her hips low until she was suddenly on all fours doing a cat crawl across the table. Bucky pushed his way through the crowd, determined to get her off the table before she realized what she was doing. As she reached the end of the table she started to make her way back to a standing position. After a few hip gyrations, she bent over to complete another hair flip, only she hadn’t realized the lighting fixture was lower on this side of the table. Bucky saw the scene unfold in slow motion as she flipped her head back and it immediately made contact with the light. The crowd gasped, seemingly concerned, as her body gave out and she fell backwards. Bucky caught her effortlessly in his arms as she went limp and he pulled her off the table and away from the crowd. Despite the scene that had just played out, the music kept playing and people kept drinking as if nothing had happened.

He carried her out to the back porch and he ordered one of the pledges to bring her some water. He lowered her onto the porch step and sat down next to her, keeping his hand around her back to keep her up. She was starting to regain consciousness and as she woke up under Bucky’s arm she squinted at him in confusion.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that question. Here, drink some water.”

“Is it drugged?” she asked, before taking a sip from the red solo cup.

“No,” he said emphatically. “Do you really think I would do that?”

She didn’t answer his question and instead finished the cup of water.

“I think I’m just gonna take a quick nap,” she said leaning her head back on Bucky’s shoulder.

“No, no, no. You need to stay awake.”

“Whyyyyy?” she whined.

“Because you might have a concussion.” He felt her weight fall into his shoulder and he pulled her up. “Hey, hey…stay with me,” he said lightly smacking her face to keep her up.

She groaned and looked at him. “You don’t care about me,” she slurred.

“Sure I do. Without you I would have to go out with girls who actually like me. Where’s the fun in that?”

He expected her to laugh at the joke but when she didn’t, he looked down at her to make sure she was okay. She was staring up at him with a look of concentration on her face. He didn’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt whatever thoughts were racing through her brain.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” she eventually said. “There’s little flecks of green in them.”

He sighed, “You must be really drunk if you’re giving me compliments. Come on, let’s get you home.”

He pulled her up from the porch and she swayed in his arms, not yet able to support her own weight. 

“Jump onto my back,” he said.

“What?” she questioned, confusion displayed all over her face.

“Climb on my back and I’ll carry you home.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking another step and stumbling on the grass. 

“Come on, it’ll be quicker this way.”

“Fine,” she mumbled. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he lowered himself so that she could climb on. She hoisted herself up and Bucky intertwined his arms with her legs to keep her secure.

Bucky carried her with ease and they made it about halfway to her apartment when she spoke up again.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why am I being nice to you?” he echoed back, like the question was blasphemous. “Because I like you.”

“But I’m not very nice to you.”

“Oh trust me, I know. But that’s part of what makes you so interesting.”

She became quiet again, resting her head on his shoulder, “You falling asleep back there?”

“Nooo…” she groaned.

“Better not be,” he teased. “We’re almost there.” He picked up the pace a little more, knowing she was growing tired. When he reached her building, he gently returned her to the ground and steadied her.

“Do you have your keys?” he asked. She handed them over to him and he opened the door to the building and offered his hand to Y/N. She gave him a low five and walked inside. He chuckled to himself, even after a head injury she still had sass. She stopped in front of her apartment door and Bucky found the next key needed to open the apartment. She turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, leaving the door open for Bucky to follow her in.

She sat down on the couch and he walked into the kitchen to pour her a glass of water.

“You know, you don’t know me,” she said out of nowhere.

“I think I know more than you think,” he countered.

“Yeah, like what?”

He sat down next to her on the sofa. “I know that you like indie music but you also like classic rock from the 70s. While you aren’t the poster child for school spirit, you almost always find time to go to other teams games. You don’t like any condiments on your hot dogs. You turn everything into a competition. And I know that you don’t care about what anyone thinks about you, which I find incredibly attractive.”

Her gaze shifted and she leaned in a little closer to him, “You aren’t as vile as I thought you were…”

“Sometimes if you give people a chance, they surprise you,” he smiled at her, “Well I should get going.”

“I think…” she placed a hand on his thigh, “you should stay.” She glanced down towards his lips and her face inched closer to his.

Bucky took in a deep breath, feeling knots in his stomach and what he was about to do. She was so close that he could feel her breath on his skin.

He cleared his throat and softly said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea." Her eyes connected with his and she pulled back, a flicker of embarrassment on her face that quickly turned to rage.

“Fine, then get out,” she said with venom. She stood up and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, but knew it was the right call. He couldn’t make a move on her when she was either drunk or concussed. It didn’t feel right. But now he would have to find a way to reopen the door that was just slammed in his face.

Before leaving, Bucky slid a note under her roommate’s door, letting her know about the potential concussion. He just wanted to make sure someone kept an eye on her.

[wheels-of-despair]

The Last First Day Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: This is it. Eddie Munson's last first day at Hawkins High. His final senior year. Class of '86, baby! Contains: Eddie and Evil Woman being annoying and ridiculous and so in love they don't care about making a scene, Higgins being So Done with them, a little suggestive humor. Words: 700ish

"BABY!"

You whip around in the crowded Hawkins High hallway, packed full of students hustling toward their next class on that always-awkward first day of school, searching for Eddie's voice. Where is he? What's wrong? He's not in trouble already, is he?

When you finally spot him and make eye contact, his jaw drops.

"It IS you! I haven't seen you in FOREVER!"

He literally saw you an hour ago, when he picked you up for school. And every day of the summer. And almost every day of the previous school year. But you know what he's doing, and you can't deny him this. Not on the first day of his last senior year.

You'd bullied the guidance counselor into putting you and Eddie in most of the same classes. It had taken some work to convince her that it really was for academic reasons, but in the end, she'd given in. What's the worst that could happen? He'd already repeated his senior year twice. The only way to go is up. Or, as most of the administration hoped: out. And since the faculty didn't seem to care about helping him get there themselves, they decided to let you give it a shot. You'd show them. You and Eddie would show them all.

Right after this happy reunion with your one and only.

"MY EDDIE! YOU FOUND ME!"

His face lights up when he sees that you're going to play with him. You stretch out your arms, thankful you'd shoved everything in your backpack after your last class, and rush toward him. Eddie takes off too, and after several grunts from people who'd been rammed into, the student body begins to duck to the side and clear a path for you.

You collide with a thump and hold each other in a crushing hug when you meet in the middle of the hallway, like you hadn't seen one another in years. Eddie finally lets go and reaches for your face, and holds it in his hands like a treasure.

"Oh my god, you're so beautiful! I'd almost forgotten what you looked like!" He's loud and he's obnoxious and you'll never love anyone more.

"I missed you!" You lean in to punctuate with a kiss. "So!" Another. "Fucking!" Another. "MUCH!" A longer one, which ends in a wet smack worthy of a cartoon. "Please don't ever leave me alone for that long again. I'll die. I swear, I'll die without you." You're also being loud and obnoxious, but not entirely untruthful.

You gaze into each other's eyes, in the middle of that crowded hallway full of people scoffing at you, and you think this just might be the happiest you've ever felt. The bell rings, but you can't bring yourself to pull away from him. Not yet.

A grown-up presence announces itself with a sigh, and you and Eddie break eye contact to look at Principal Higgins.

"That was the warning bell, which signifies that it's time for The Munsons to proceed to their next class," he says tiredly.

Eddie gives him a mock salute and hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you away from Higgins and toward your next class. Which you have together. You smile and lean into him, basking in the fact that you were just referred to as The Munsons.

"Pretty sure we just got married," Eddie observes.

"Oh yeah?" you grin. "Is Higgins an ordained principal?"

"Yup," Eddie says, eyes forward. "I've been studying in this place for a looong time. I know how things work. We're married now."

"Are you gonna carry me across the threshold into English class?" you tease, giving him a playful poke in the ribs.

"Don't tempt me, Mrs. Munson," he smirks. "I'm gonna wait 'til science. There's a human anatomy unit during senior year." He waggles his eyebrows at you. He should know; he's failed it twice.

"Is the unit… hard?" you ask seductively.

He stops just outside the classroom door and leans down to whisper in your ear, so only you can hear. His hair tickles the side of your face. "Not as hard as the unit that'll help you earn extra credit after school."

[lovejosephquinn]

Authors Note: It's getting intense now, hope you're ready for the rollercoaster ride you're about to go on for part three! This has took me 7 hours on and off and I'm pretty proud of this series to say the least. Still Wes' number one fan btw. Please feel free to leave a comment or reblog if you're enjoying it, also if you want adding to the tag list for future parts/updates just lmk 🥰

Summary: Joe and reader have never seen eye to eye, growing up together and even further along the line in adulthood. There’s always been something lurking in the back of their minds. It couldn’t be, they share a mutual hatred and can’t stand the sight of one another. Surely, it’s been a long time coming but will the tension finally break into something more beautiful? Time tells all truths.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: Angst, a worried reader and a whole load of smutty smut throughout Word Count: 6.3k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @daleyeahson @ali-r3n @quinnypixie @thefemininemystiquee @winchester-angel @ayooooo0 @wonderheartz @avobabe87 @palomahasenteredthechat @chickennug90 @emma77645 @pepsimunson @figmentofquinn @ches-86 @sugarheart-riot @shawnamae87 @joeqnz @kayleeelena97 @etherealglimmer @birdysaturne @freakymunson @aol19 @coley0823 @lma1986 @eddiesgirls12 @poisonedluv @aysheashea @credulouskhaleesi @xlilithb @tlclick73 @siriuslysmoking @miserybeans @haylaansmi

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

"On your knees." You wouldn't usually answer to such a demand, but for Joe you knew you couldn't refuse. A dominating, demeaning and beautiful looking man giving you the eye, forcing you to do as your told when you pause for a second, standing before him naked and for the taking. "Are you deaf? I said on your fucking knees."

"Make. Me." You didn't know why you dared to even try to disobey, maybe you wanted him to corrupt you more than he already had.

It was both the right and wrong move to make, Joe's hand came around to grip your hair up into a ponytail, twirling you around until you fell backwards into him, his other hand cupped itself around your throat, lifting your face up so you were compelled to be face to face at an awkward angle.

"When you're with me, you will do as you're fucking told." The grip tightened making your lips part straining for the oxygen you were now lacking in your lungs. "Got it?" You struggled to nod but you managed it slightly, obviously pleasing him when you felt Joe grind the length of his cock between your ass cheeks. "You look so cute when you're vulnerable." He smirked. It haunted you everywhere.

Joe let go of your throat and you were instantly swung back around to look towards him front ways on, your hair was still very much intact in his clenched fist. As he pulled it downward, you had no choice to be dragged in turn, your knees slapping to the laminated flooring beneath you, slight pain stinging onto the bruises you knew which would consume your legs hours after.

"Well well well, isn't that the prettiest sight I ever did see." Joe hummed as he slapped his cock onto your lips. "Open up for me beautiful, I wanna fuck your mouth." You decided on this occasion not to challenge him, probably better that you didn't after the minimal punishment you received for not submitting the first time.

As he pushed in a few inches, you felt the thickness of his cock stretch through your lips, inviting itself down towards your throat, you took a breath in, bracing yourself for the moment it made contact with your tonsils.

Breaking the tension before you could even get to the point of no return, your phone began to buzz, the irritating tone playing over and over again, radiating through your ear drums; a slight PTSD feeling. "What's that?" Joe took his cock straight from you, leaving your mouth feeling direly empty. With a sigh of what you could only describe as a cock block, you got up from your knees running over to attempt to stop the unbearable nose. "It's my alarm."

Your body came alive, consciously opening your eyes and then closing them again, realising that it was absolutely your alarm tone, alerting you wake the fuck up, ugh. You stretched the entirety of your body, a few clicks of your bones here and there from being in the same position for the few hours sleep you'd managed to get. You moved your arm out of the comfort of your warm sheets to slap your hand down on the stop button. Once you'd managed to finally get it terminate, you accidentally knocked it off of the bedside table and it hit the floor the same way you recollected your knees doing.

Not. Another. Fucking. Dream.

Not only did the thoughts of the last two dreams you've had in 48 hours come into play, it was also the sheer embarrassment and memory of Wesley catching you outside of their flat in the early hours of this morning, every one of these things now consuming over you into one horrendously torturous headache. You could picture perfectly his face the moment he saw you half bent attempting to rush back into your safe space, a place where you could think out loud; but it was all too much in slow motion and now Wesley had this big secret of yours in the palm of his hands. He could and probably would tell Joe of what happened, you knew you would have to face the vile thought of it at some point; but you took a deep breath and thought to yourself: I'll cross that bridge when it comes to it.

You felt just as revolting as you had done the previous night, fantasising about Joe in such a way; but you couldn't even begin to fathom an excuse of why it was becoming a regular occurrence. You had to put two and two together, was it completely possible to have a crush on someone that you hated? You needed to shake off the thought, but you were completely intrigued by the new feeling. It was completely obvious that the feeling was not and would never be a mutual one, so you could just continue to dream about him and that's all it would ever be; nothing more and nothing less.

It was something that would make the headlines in your very own news broadcast. The girl that hated the boy all her life and now finally comes to admit that the reason she's hated him all this time was because she wanted to get in his pants, or in short; the girl likes the boy. Who would ever admit such a crime? It felt as though it was one after all. Had someone put a curse upon you to gain sudden emotion towards Joseph Quinn? Or were you truly just growing out of your hateful advances towards him.

You forced yourself up and out of bed, nothing left to do but get on with your day; the sheer thought of it made you feel even more exhausted than you already were. You moved to the bathroom, clinging your hands to the edge of the sink as you took one look at yourself in the mirror, immediate nausea hitting you square in the stomach from your head repeatedly telling you that Wesley had told Joe about you listening in to him and his one night stand.

"Stop worrying about it Y/N, what's the worst that could happen?" You give yourself a pep talk before twisting the tap and splashing cold water over your face, relieving some of the symptoms that arose with the sickening ambience which you were pretty sure was on it's way to overpowering you.

Everything you forced yourself to do to get over the worry of last night was an impossible task; the very ordeal was held above your head like a constant rain cloud with no escape until you had at least faced Wesley again, maybe he had forgotten or maybe you were just stupid for trying to make yourself believe such a thing. It seemed like you had not got a choice in what you thought now; Joe was stuck in the forefront of your mind. These mixed up and down right freaky feelings were starting to put you in a chokehold, you knew you must maintain your reputation around him in keeping the whole enemy situation a thing, you couldn't let your guard slip, not now.

The reason had clearly been there all along, how you were connected by fate, despising one another with no apparent logic as to why you did, you'd gone through nearly all your life bumping into him at one time or another and now all of a sudden you lived across a hallway from him; surely it was a sign. There was only one problem however, Joe would never feel the same way about you. You'd put on the façade for too many years to be able to develop anything from whatever feud formed between you.

The only rational thing to do now was to fall onto your sofa, hide yourself away and maybe scream into your cushion a little bit; it worked for other problems in the past so why not this one?

There was no denying you felt a little better after that, yet the sound coming from outside averted your attention straight back to it all. You could make out the familiar sound of Joe and Wesley's front door opening and the bimbo giggling just a few feet away from yours. You made a bee line for the peep hole which had become very much your own spying object. You lifted your feet to manage a look through it with ease, each of you knew this was only a one night stand, but only one of you hoped that it wouldn't be. She was in an eager and desperate attempt to keep him in the hallway and clearly not wanting to say goodbye, Joe had other ideas. She was on her tip toes just as you were, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck as she giggled whilst he made a subtle attempt at stepping her back into the corridor when she'd took two steps forward.

"Do I have to go?" She giggled, doing that whole innocent girl act which made you cringe in the worst of ways.

"I've got stuff to do, I'll call you though." There it was, the confirmation of a one night stand, I'll call you is a way of kindly insinuating for the other to piss off and I'll never see you again unless it's for a booty call. Joe removed her arms that were attached with her all her might, as she remained leaning upward she made a move for his lips to give him a goodbye kiss, yet before she got at least half way there, Joe was slowly closing the door in her face.

"I'll see you soon then." She grinned, a slight nerving in her voice obviously upset and bitter that she'd been another victim of the charm that Joe's whole aura gave off. You watched her until she was out of your sight, looking back a couple of times in hope that maybe he'd reopen the door and change his mind about her leaving and suddenly want her, need her. Of course he didn't. You quit your almost stalking behaviour, picking at the skin of your thumbs anxiously as your thoughts continued getting the better of you.

Finally managing to pluck up the strength, you pushed yourself into the bathroom, turning on the shower to get ready for the day ahead. You were reliving the dreams again when you found your thighs clenching together, hearing Joe behind you with his clear instructions after you refused to listen the first time. You tilted your head back, letting the water run warm on your face, your lips parted a little as you attempted to breathe through it. Your body took control of you, your hand slowly touching yourself up before slotting between your slit, you rubbed a little, bringing your head forward to gaze down at what you had started. You bit down on your bottom lip, deciding to just let yourself go wild; you deserved a little fun after the situations you'd found yourself in lately. You moved your legs to stand a little apart from each other so that you could find the ache you craved to be played with. Shivers ran up and down your spine, the mix of pleasure as your fingertips brushed against your clit with the warm water and steam running from the showerhead just added to the eroticism. You were just missing one thing, him.

You closed your eyes in the hope that the mirage of Joe would appear in front of you and as if by magic, your head adhered to your wishes. The euphoria became all too real as Joe's hand now mirrored that of yours, rubbing effortlessly, his forehead pressed against yours as he watched you fall apart with the way he expertly stroked your sensitive area. You swore you could hear the sound of his raspy voice in your ear, telling you to let go, to give yourself up for him. This version of Joe adored you and would do anything to make you feel good and the realisation that this would never be the case made you all the more eager to enjoy this moment.

The satisfaction you longed for finally hit you as you moaned out his name way louder than you could have thought possible; your thighs making an attempt to clench together but straining to stay apart whilst you rid out your orgasm. "Keep them open, I want to see you squirm." There was the voice in your head again, the perfectly gravelly southern accent which once you detested but now sent an unfeasible amount of butterflies both ascending from your stomach and descending back down again once they'd reached their bee line for your heart strings.

Your eyes opened and yet again, you were alone and without the man you were beginning to hanker for. You finished off your shower, giving yourself a good wash down, scrubbing at your hair which had lugged up during your bit of sleep you managed to get. It was an absolute understatement to suggest that you weren't exhausted, you really were, you felt like you could genuinely sleep for a week.

You managed a bowl of cereal and a cup of tea, your towel still intact around your head with your dampened hair wrapped securely inside of it, you'd put on your comfy clothes from the night before and would decide if it was even worth getting dressed properly later. You contemplated on what more you could do to take your mind off of Joe, you felt like you had fantasised enough for one day. Looking out the window, the weather was an absolute no go, it was pouring it down with rain, the water smashing against the glass made you shake your head, reassurance that you weren't about to be going out anywhere anytime soon.

You took yourself off to bed, grabbing your blanket which was neatly folded on your set of drawers for when you required it; this was one of those days. Scrolling aimlessly through your phone as most people do when it's their only cure for boredom, it wasn't long until you caught your eyes shutting, straining them to keep yourself awake was way too much of a task. So you gave up, unwrapping the towel from your head, rubbing any excess water you had left and threw it to the floor. Laying on your side, you locked your phone, keeping it next to you and shut your eyes, away from reality and away from the fatigue, your last thought was that you assured yourself you would awake feeling fresh and recomposed.

Your dream was vivid this time around. You were stood in a huge field filled with hundreds of people that you had never seen before, yet there was a gap making a straight line between you and Joe. You were both stood facing one another, chests puffing in and out with your heart beating overtime at the sight of one another. No matter how much you tried, every step forward you would take towards him, Joe would take one step back, yet he'd still be staring right at you. Was this a metaphor for never having Joe the way you wanted him? If anything were to happen would you just be like the girl he basically kicked out of his home this morning?

Joe began moving back faster until he was disappearing into the crowd of people, the space closing of your views between each other, trapping you amongst everybody else. You could see glimpses of his faces behind the strangers that moved around you, but you couldn't find anyway to get close enough. You shouted his name, but no sound came out, just the hustle and bustle of every one else's voices seemed to bellow over whatever noises did emerge from you. Running did you no favours, it was a heavy sensation like chains were wrapped around your ankles as you kept tripping over your own to feet. You got no where and before you knew it; you had completely lost him.

You sat up in a panic, your breath heaving from your parted lips as you looked around the room, no daylight to be seen, how long had you been sleeping for? You felt better for it anyway, it didn't matter to you right now that your body clock would probably be fucked up and you wouldn't sleep as well tonight, you were just glad that you had finally got some rest. You lifted yourself up in your newfound mood, putting on some music onto your Alexa, you glanced out of your bedroom to window to find it had stopped raining. The noise of the tunes playing in the background had you swaying your hips from side to side, you were in the mood for a drink or two, it was Saturday night after all, wouldn't it be rude not to partake?

You danced on over to your phone, tapping it to see the time. 7:00pm. You gave yourself an hour and a half time frame to get ready and then you spontaneously decided that you would venture out to the local pub around the corner from your complex. Venturing into the kitchen, you opened the fridge to find the now chilled wine that you had saved from the other night, no need for a glass you thought, you would chug from the bottle. Heading back for your bedroom and sitting down at your makeshift vanity mirror you began to make yourself look human again. It'd been so long since you got ready like this, the upbeat music seemed to help dissolve all of your present issues in your head and replace them with the lyrics to the song, almost as instantaneously as your voice belted them out.

You did a full face of natural looking make up adorned with a smoky eye, curled your hair leaving them intact whilst you slipped on your ripped jeans and a long sleeved crop top. Going back to the mirror you combed through the thick ringlets to let them become softer waves. You added jewellery, spritzed yourself with your favourite perfume, downing at least a third of the bottle of wine so that you had some liquid courage inside of you to help you settle in the pub quicker once you got there.

You went into your wardrobe to pull out your bag you used when you go out out, put on your trusty old faithful heels, doing a final check to make sure you had turned off all of the plugs and moved back through to the kitchen to forage through the cupboards to find something that you could shot before you set off. You found a bottle of vodka right at the back of one of the shelves, it was absolutely not like you to just undo the cap and take a swig of the sterile tasting spirit, your face scrunched up as it burnt your throat when you swallowed a gulp of it down. It made you feel quite sick in all fairness but you washed down that feeling with another shot of it straight into your mouth, a burp ascending quicker than you would have liked once you had ingested the last drop, the burn was non existent the second time around and you felt a little tipsy by the time you had found the front door, shutting it behind you and repeating over and over to yourself to lock it behind you.

It were as if by magic that you caught sight of your next door neighbour leaving to quite obviously go out to do the same thing you were doing, how convenient. "Dan!" You shouted, he turned around getting a glimpse of who had just called his name out, a smile broke out, reserved just for you and you alone. Dan was quite an attractive man, probably about ten years older than you but a tall, dark and handsome kind of vibe was good enough, it didn't make you mind the obvious age gap.

"Hey Y/N! Where you heading?" He waited for you to catch up before you began to walk to the lifts together.

"Was just going to test the waters at the pub around the corner." You replied, swaying a little from the alcohol inevitably making it's way into your system.

"All on your lonesome?" He chuckled, resting his hand onto your shoulder to keep you still.

"Yeah, you?" You smiled sweetly.

"Guess that means we can go and have a drink together then huh?" The lift pinged and the doors opened as Dan gestured for you to go through first, pressing the ground floor button, you cleared your throat as you watched the doors shut.

"I don't see why not." Dan pressed his hand to your back, ushering you to go out of the lift before him again and then onto opening the main complex doors for you, it was gentlemanly gesture after gentlemanly gesture; sweet little things that you noticed about him.

You made brief, short conversation as you made the few minute journey to the bar and sure enough, it was as busy as you thought it would be. You moved along the crowd of people, wedging yourself where you could at the bar to order your drinks.

"What do you want?" Dan almost had to shriek into your ear for you to be able to hear what he said over the top of everyone.

"Vodka and coke please." You may as well of sticked to the spirits, you had already made an excellent job of polishing off a bottle of wine and the few shots you dared yourself to do.

There was no forced chatter between you both once you had gotten your beverages, you found a table with two high stools to sit at together. One drink together turned into several and a few hours later, you were fully in the zone now; drunk and entirely happy. Feeling free of the irritations of what you could consider real life. You moved your eyes along the crowd, people watching whilst Dan excused himself to go to the toilet. You double took as soon as you found the pair of eyes you didn't wish to see tonight. Joe. He was filling his attention span straight towards you, trying to peer at who was sat with you. You flittered your eyes away with the hope that he had not seen you make a couple of seconds of full eye contact with him.

Dan returned back to his seat and you consciously watched through your field of vision at Joe furrowing his brow seeing him of all people joining you. You decided to play this to your advantage to see if he would keep watching or would leave you to it seeing you preoccupied and happy with your company. It seemed to work, you managed to find Wesley stood next to him who scanned Joe's line of view to find you. He put his hand on his shoulder trying to recapture his attention off of you, there was instant refusal as Joe replied to him without even taking his forced stare away.

The considerable amount of alcohol in your system and the man you were pining for in your imagination was now wrapped around your little finger, you had Dan with you; it was time to make an obvious flirt of yourself. The more you inflicted your touch upon Dan, whether it be stroking his arm or leaning into him and laughing at every joke he was pulling from his sleeve, it was driving Joe insane. You loathed every second of it yet the more you continued your act, the more it began to feel sincere, he was a really nice, palpable person and it made it more difficult to fake around him.

"Wanna get out of here?" Dan asked you straight, his hand firmly pressed against your leg and it seemed that the intention was there and he'd caught wind of your flirting, intending that you would accept his offer.

"Why not." You confirmed, picking up your bag from the table you jumped off of the stool. You looked back enough to watch Joe's emotion fully changing, deflating right in front of you. Wesley was still in a huge attempt to make him ignore what was happening in front of him, but he failed each time. Dan put his arm around you as you made your way out of the bar, you pretty much clung to him all the way back. You got to the hallway, stopping at his door and then entering right behind him. You got straight into it, Dan took a hold of your waist and leaned down pushing his lips onto yours. Your eyes were clenched shut and for a minute you imagined that it was Joe's lips connected to yours instead of his. A wave of disgust ravished over you and you tried to stop, but the more you leaned back the further he'd close the space again.

"D-Dan I-I-" He leaned back to his full height, looking at you concerned.

"Everything ok?" He asked, a little confused.

"I just can't go through with it, there's someone I think I like and I feel bad if I lead you on."

Dan let go of you, holding his hands up in the air. "No worries, we're friends though right?" Ever the gentleman he had proved himself to be, you leaned up to kiss his cheek, looking back with a nod and unsteady feet. "Thank you for understanding." With that, you left to return the few metres to your front door.

Closing it behind you, you sink down to the ground as tears seep from your eyes, you were going through every emotion that alcohol could possibly endure upon you tonight and it showed from the way you felt guilty for kissing someone else even though the realisation hit you that the man you actually wanted to do it with would never want or think the same. You attempted to get up from the floor, but fell straight back down again, using the front of your foot to push each heel off, you kicked them to either side of the room. Falling back only increased the tears, you felt useless and small. They say drunken minds speak sober thoughts and in your case this had never been more true.

You were startled as you overheard the sound of running from the outside getting closer and closer, followed by the bashing of a fist just above you. A huff and a sigh, managing to get yourself to your feet whilst feeling slightly unnerved at the strenuousness and eagerness to get your attention. You moved the door handle down slowly, creaking it open to look through. Joe.

"What?" Well done, you started that extremely well.

"I figured out your problem, your problem is with me." Joe pushed against the door, leaning against where you held it, you cold have easily let go and permitted him to fall flat on his face, but you kept a good grip on it.

"God you're a fucking genius." You sarcastically hissed back at him. The stench of alcohol and cigarettes leaked from you both, alcohol was fuelling you both to state your truths, just a shame you couldn't go the right way about it and had to maintain your normal way of detesting him. You moved away from the door letting it swing open as Joe moved a couple of steps in.

"There she is. You know you're the biggest most pretentious self centred bitch I've ever had the misfortune of meeting." Those words cut you deep, fresh wounds in the pit of your stomach which destroyed the butterflies you had been feeling previously over Joe only hours ago.

"Was that supposed to be an insult?" You fired back, scowling at him for not knowing he was breaking your heart and only pushing your walls up further.

"Nope, just the truth."

Before you could shoot a reply back to him, Wesley rushed in and looked between the two of you and the apprehension returned back from the locked part of your sober memory that it was possible that he had told Joe about catching you last night. Shit shit shit.

"Wesley will you get him away from me I-"

"Will you two stop fucking shouting it's the middle of the night and you've got the front door open to increase the volume for these poor people that live around us."

"He came to me and I don't know why." You ignored his plea for you both to shut the fuck up.

"Joe come on mate, let's leave her be."

"No we're having it out Wes, I can't be bothered with this shit anymore, she's been this way with me since school and I want to know what her problem is with me."

"It's just you." You hovered your finger from his head down to his feet, gesturing that it was nothing but that, you couldn't help your eyes following where your hand moved so you could get a good look at him despite your response.

"No excuse."

"Valid excuse."

"No it's not!" Joe raised his voice.

"Yes it is!" You raised yours a pitch louder.

"No it's n-"

"Oh my god, will you two just get it out your systems and fuck already? You're both being ridiculous." Wesley stood and quite enjoyed the comical way both of your jaws fell to the floor in unison. Having had his moment, with such authority, he slammed the door shut to make a point of his argument towards you and Joe.

"So come on, tell me the real reason you clearly despise the very thought of me?" Joe put one foot in front of the other, striding over towards you like he was on a mission, making you be the one to step backwards until your back hit the counter top with a thud. His hands placed themselves either side of you, trapping you completely. You'd never been this close to him before in real life, seeing the way his doe eyes were wide, you had never realised how stunning the colour of them were; he was exceptionally more beautiful up close.

"I don't have a reason, I don't know you." Your voice faltered at the way he stood over you, making you feel so small.

"Do you want to know me?"

You shook your head, lips parting to suggest otherwise but you didn't speak a word.

"Yes or no?" His face became impossibly close as he craned his neck down to just above your level.

You shook your head again, this time slower, then the gap closed. His mouth on yours without a final thought, the feeling was unreal, better than your dreams perceived. His lips were soft and angled perfectly against yours. None of you broke the kiss, it just got mor heated the longer it went on, Joe's hand came up to firmly grip against the back of your neck, ensuring you weren't going anywhere even if you wanted to. Your heads tilted opposite ways, deepening the kiss, feeling the tip of his tongue meet with yours, he tasted like tequila and cigarettes which made you dart your own muscle in motion with his, it was absolutely exhilarating.

Joe made his hands get to work whilst the heat between you continued to stir rampantly. Feeling him unbuttoning your jeans made you mimic his action as you began to unbutton his trousers. Joe made the first attempt to break the kiss as you removed your own clothes, instantly naked before each other, Joe took a hungry moment to check you out thoroughly.

"You might be a bitch, but you're fucking sexy underneath all of that." A backhanded compliment but it made your cunt twitch all the same. Joe picked you up by your waist, lifting you onto the countertop so that you were now at a face to face level, with better access he pushed his lips to you again, your legs spreading wide so that he could stand between them.

His big hands wandered up and down, scanning the length of your spine allowing goose bumps to be left in his tracks. Joe pushed you back in an eager state and your response was to sit your feet up, arching your thighs out further so that he could touch you with ease. You let out a lengthy moan into Joe's mouth as he pushed two of his thick fingers inside of you, stretching you out in a means to get you ready for the main event. He thrusted them in and out of you in a painfully slow manner, but made sure you felt the whole length of the by allowing his fist to be pressed up to your entrance.

You whimpered as they tapped at your cervix, curling upward when he got to it each time, his pace picking up with every jab. You squealed when a third finger made it's way through, it made Joe bite down on your lip as if you were driving him crazy with the noises you were making. "You're so fucking tight." He moaned along with you as his other hand was fisting away at his cock, spasming in his hand from how turned on he felt.

"Cum for me. I wanna be fucking you senseless in the next few minutes." His forehead pressed against yours, looking down to monitor the work he was putting in to make you come undone. Joe hit a particular spot just the side of your cunt, making you clench around him, back arching upward as you came all over his digits.

"Fuck yes." Joe sounded out, removing them from you instantly and grabbing your hand making you slip a little so he could pull you from the countertop.

"Bend over." You stood gawking at the way his cock twitched in his grip, you were mesmerised by it, not what you were expecting, thick in girth and just above average in size, it had a slight curve to it, uncut and just overly perfect; you should've known.

"Did you hear me?" He snarled.

"Evidently not." Your sarcastic response got his attention. Low and behold your dream became reality and he gripped his hands onto your shoulders, swerving you around and pushing your head downward so that you were in the position he wanted you in.

Your heart was pounding, you quickly remembered you were in the same spot where you were in your first dream, everything was coming to light and it was just as you had wished it to be. If only it were better circumstances than clearly a hate fuck. Joe spread your ass cheeks before slapping his cock against it, biting down on his lip, he let them go, caging his length between them and grinding up and down letting his foreskin move a little making him unleash a wild and wicked grunt. Replacing his cock to position himself at your entrance, you were met with a cursive spank to one of your ass cheeks and then another, matching the slight red mark he left on the other.

"Beg for it." He said.

"Never-" You replied.

Without hesitation, he didn't let you get another word in edge ways before he slammed into you, the wetness you had already created together made him slide in with ease and you took every inch of his cock instantly, dainty tears creeping in the corner of your eyes from the sheer stretch. He railed into you instantly, leaning over to bury one hand underneath you, seamlessly rubbing at your clit to get even more of a reaction out of you than he had already gotten. Joe clearly knew that he wouldn't be lasting long from the way he went about it.

His hand pulled onto your hair, making the contact between you even closer, his sack was launching upward, slapping against you, his hand furiously massaged against you and his cock infiltrated you good and proper, you were in a state of ecstasy which you never wanted to stop. Joe pushed on as much as he could, yet the harder he went, the more he concentrated in not blowing his load too soon. He moaned out your name a couple of times which sent you over the edge into your second orgasm.

As soon as you clenched around his length, Joe knew he was a goner. He pulled out of you and released straight onto your ass, hissing profanities at the top of his lungs at the over stimulation he was receiving from ultimate pleasure.

You reached over for the tea towel at the side of you, throwing it back for Joe to be able to clean you up, he wiped over you briefly and began to get dressed instantly. You were both ridiculously out of breath, silent and awkward. Understandable as the first real contact between the two of you happened to be this way.

You made the effort to get back into your clothes to make you feel at least a little less demoralised. You weren't sure if you really did like him, if it was only a lust for Joe that you were craving. You weren't kidding nobody, not even yourself.

"I'll ask you again." Joe broke the imposed mutism. "Do you want to know me?"

You made a farced attempt to scowl at him, you shook your head. Brushing past him and opening the front door to signal for him to leave, you'd had about all that you could take for now. Both figuratively and literally.

You moved your hand to him and wafted towards the door. Joe grabbed his shoes not even bothering to put them back on seeing as he didn't have much a distance to go back to his own place.

"Yes-" Joe paused.

You sighed.

"Or-" He swallowed a gulp of saliva.

"No."

"I hate you Joseph Quinn."

"No you don't." Joe smirked at you as he walked away, looking back at you to press his ear against his front door, another malicious snigger erupting from his throat.

"I assure you, I'm far from hated." He winked at you, unlocking the door and closing it behind him.

Shit. He knows.

[justagalwhowrites]

HEY BESTIE I LOVE THE PROMPTS #s 21 86 94 114 128 146 😭❤️ THEY WOULD BE SO CUTE TO READ

LOVE U SM

HI BESTIE!!

You had sent in one of these before I asked you to resend them lol but HEY turns out that was the perfect set up to post this one shot, too :D

This is featuring Joel and a smuggling partner who's been working with him and Tess for a while. She's new for this fic but I really like her so she may be making another appearance. I hope you love it!

Thanks so much for writing in and reading! Love you!!

Pretty Girl

Your smuggling partner, Joel Miller, is being uncommonly social during a trip to the Speakeasy.

Based on Prompt 128: "You're pretty" "You're drunk"

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Just smut. Smutty smutty smut. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.7k

“This is going to be a stupid fucking run,” you took a sip of shitty whiskey - which was the only whiskey to be found in the QZ so you dealt with it. Better than nothing, at least. 

“It’s not that stupid,” Tess replied. 

“We’re talking a total of, what, eight days on the road?” You asked. “Unless one of you assholes has a car I don’t know about…” 

“No car,” Tess said. “But I’ve heard from other folks who have passed through there in the last few months and it’s eight days of damn near empty country with a literal farm of pot on the other side. We’re talking about pounds and pounds of the stuff, we’ll be set for a fucking year off this one run…” 

You took another drink, looking out at the other patrons of the bar. Downtrodden and looking for solace at the bottom of a glass. Not all that different than the dive bars you frequented before the world ended eight years earlier but there had been a charm to them then. You and your girlfriends chose those places to add some kind of danger to your debauchery. The concept of going out for cocktails or a beer after work now was almost laughable it was so foreign. 

You’d had that kind of life once, though. One where you wore sheath dresses and spiked heels to your office and got paid more money than you needed to write bullshit ads for bullshit companies like Walmart. A trip to a dive bar was a fun way to step outside of your protected little bubble, a way to hook up with a guy with callused hands who might be a little rougher than the guys in your office whose muscle came from machines at the gym. 

You couldn’t believe you used to stress about that shit now. It was all so stupid, the pointless deadlines and the KPIs and the concern about what your boss would think if you showed up with a rough blue collar guy to a company cocktail hour. 

Now, you were only worried about surviving to the next day. And this run would either make that very easy or very hard, there was no in between. 

“What do you think, Miller?” You looked at Joel, the most sullen of your little trio. “Think it’s worth the risk?” 

He sighed, looking between you and Tess. 

“I think if Tess’ intel is good then we’re fuckin’ stupid to not take advantage of it,” he said. “But we can’t be fuckin’ dumb about goin’. We have to make sure we’re well supplied because I’m not getting caught with my pants down in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere just to run some pot into the QZ.” 

You ground your teeth for a moment before sighing. 

“Fine. If you’re both in then I’m in. But I swear to God if this fucking scheme gets me killed I will haunt both of you until the day you die.” 

Tess laughed a little and downed the rest of her whiskey. 

“On that note,” she said, getting up from your table. “I’m getting out of here. We’ll look at getting the fuck out of here in about a week, make sure you’re set on ammo and rations by then, yeah?” 

“Sure,” you nodded once and watched her go and turned back to Joel. “Ever wonder what the fuck would happen to Tess if she wasn’t in charge of something for a whole five minutes?” 

Joel snorted. 

“Doubt that’d ever happen,” he took a sip of his beer, polishing it off. 

“You heading out, too?” You asked. 

He looked at you for a moment, almost like he was assessing you. 

“Thinkin’ about stayin’,” he replied eventually. “Want somethin’ else from the bar?” 

“I’ll take a beer if you’re offering,” you shrugged, not used to Joel doing anything social beyond the bare minimum. You’d been doing smuggling runs with him for two years now and you were pretty sure you could count on one hand the number of conversations he’d initiated on your trips outside the QZ together. 

You certainly didn’t DISLIKE the man. You liked him probably a little too much if you were being completely honest about it. You liked that he was broad and strong and that he was the kind of guy you’d pick up on one of those nights out in a dive bar with your girlfriends. But you liked more than that, too. You liked the fact that he stopped at a pharmacy on the way back from a run once and grabbed a handful of bottles of children’s Tylenol. You’d frowned as he stashed them in his pack. 

“Neighbor’s daughter keeps gettin’ ear infections,” he said. “Poor thing sounds miserable.” 

He never mentioned it again. 

Joel brought two beers back to the table and put one in front of you before taking his seat again, looking out at the handful of people dancing to the music from the jukebox. 

“So Joel,” you said, twisting the glass in your fingers. “If you had to pick one thing - not a person because we all have a person - that you miss most about before, what would you pick?” 

“Hm,” he frowned, taking a drink. “Never thought about it.” 

“Well I’m asking you to think about it,” you smiled a little as you took a sip of beer. “That’s kind of the point.” 

One corner of his mouth pulled up slightly at that and he shook his head a bit. 

“Probably goin’ to listen to music or playin’ music,” he said eventually. “Somethin’ about live music… anyway. Probably miss that most. Or maybe museums.” 

“Museums.” You raised your eyebrows. 

He nodded. 

“Went to a lot of museums,” he said. 

He got a bit of a wistful look in his eye for a moment before he took another drink. 

“Didn’t strike me as the type,” you said.

He shrugged. 

“How about you?” He asked. 

“Restaurants,” you said immediately. “Hands down. I’d gained like 10 pounds on a trip not long before the outbreak so for the two weeks before I was dieting like crazy and I’ve never regretted a damn thing more. I was eating the most bland, boring shit like a dumbass. Jesus Christ, what I wouldn’t give now for a New York slice. Or a bagel. Fuck, I think I’d rather have one more true NYC bagel than ever have great sex again.” 

“Sounds like you’ve just never had great sex,” Joel smirked a bit. 

“No,” you shook your head. “You’ve just never had a great bagel.”

The two of you ended up having a few more drinks together and you actually heard Joel laugh - not something you knew he was actually capable of even after a few years of knowing the guy. 

“C’mon,” he said, downing the last of another beer. “Should get out of here before it’s curfew…” 

“Joel Miller, consummate rule follower,” you teased but knocked back the rest of your drink as well, leaving the speakeasy together. 

“Have a question for you,” he asked, his hands in his pockets. 

“Ask away.” 

“Where’d you learn to shoot the way you do?” He looked over at you. “You never seemed like the type. Still don’t, if I’m bein’ honest ‘bout it.” 

“My dad started taking me hunting when I was a kid,” you smiled a little at the memory. “Always liked the challenge but what I really liked was that he liked doing it with me. Never could get his attention any other way, really. Don’t think he ever wanted a daughter but he got stuck with me. So he took me hunting and I loved it. And then he started teaching me more and more and eventually I was just a damn good shot.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Well, I owe ‘im,” he said. “You being a fuckin’ deadeye saved my ass more than once.” 

“You know you don’t have to wait until you’re drunk to talk to me,” you said, glancing over to him. “You can ask me shit like this when it comes to mind.” 

“Not drunk,” he said. 

“Sure you’re not,” you rolled your eyes, coming to the road where you usually went your separate ways to go to your respective apartments. But when you turned to say goodbye, he’d turned toward your apartment instead, already walking that way. 

“OK so you’re really drunk,” you said, catching up with him quickly. “Your apartment is the other way, Joel.” 

“Not drunk,” he said. “Just makin’ sure you get home OK. Not usually out this late. Not with me, anyway.” 

You looked at him, incredulous, but didn’t argue. You walked in silence for a few minutes and you felt his eyes on you periodically and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Is everything OK?” You asked eventually. “Didn’t… I dunno, get bit in the QZ somehow, right?” 

“I’m fine,” he frowned. “Why?” 

“Because you’re being weirdly talkative and walking me home,” you said. “And you keep looking at me. And I’d like to make sure you’re not about to drop dead or turn or something.” 

“I’m fine,” he shrugged. 

“OK…” 

“It’s just…” he paused. “You’re… pretty.” 

You snorted. 

“You’re drunk.” 

“I ain’t drunk,” he said. 

“And I ain’t been pretty since 2003,” you shook your head and smiled a bit. “That ship sailed with the Lancome counter at the mall and access to regular blowouts.” 

“Well that’s a load of shit,” he said. “You’re pretty. You just are, don’t need fuckin’ makeup or that other shit to see that.” 

You stopped walking and stared at him for a moment. He stopped walking, standing under a street light, and turned to look at you. 

“What.” 

“I swear to God, Joel, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were hitting on me.” 

He shrugged. 

“Maybe I am.” 

You scoffed. 

“I’m being serious!” You said. “Don’t make fun of me…” 

“I’m bein’ serious, too,” he said. “Not makin’ fun.” 

You stepped closer to him, so your bodies were aligned and almost touching, your arms crossed over yourself. 

“What were you planning to do about it?” You asked. 

He took your chin gently in one of his large hands and tilted your head back before kissing you. HIs lips were plush, unexpectedly soft in contrast to the pleasant scratch of his mustache on your skin. He kissed you until you were breathless, your hands flexing into fists as you tried to work some of the growing tension from your limbs. He pulled back a little, his nose brushing your own. 

“Somethin’ like that,” he said quietly. “More, if you’ll let me.” 

You we ripping his clothes off before the door to your apartment had fully closed, his shirt winding up somewhere on the floor of your living room alongside your bra. 

When you were both naked, you pushed him down on your bed, your pussy already dripping and aching for him. You moved to straddle him and he brought a hand down over your sensitive mound, dipping his fingers into your slit and gathering your wetness before sliding up to tease your clit. 

“Goddamn you’re wet,” he groaned. “You walk around like this all the fuckin’ time, just ready for it?” 

“No,” you panted. “Took you practically sticking your tongue down my throat outside…” 

“Oh is that all,” he worked your clit harder, making you moan. 

“Maybe you’re pretty, too, Miller,” you closed your eyes, trying to focus, your body already starting to tighten, your sex all but begging to have something to grip and throb around as aching heat started to swirl through you. 

“Know that’s bullshit,” he leaned forward and nipped your throat before kissing and sucking his way to your collarbone, taking his hand away from your slit and rubbing your arousal over his thick, hard length. You tilted your hips forward, brushing his weeping tip with your soaked seam. “Fucking hell Baby…” 

“Need you,” you dug your nails into his back and he moaned at it. “Need to feel…” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, holding onto the base of his cock and lining it up with your grasping, longing core. His head barely dipped into you, the burning stretch doing nothing to sate your desperate wanting. “Need inside you, need you to fuckin’ take it…” 

You thrust down on him, taking him into you in one firm, quick motion. It made you gasp, his size almost overwhelming. You whimpered as your body adjusted, your pussy feeling more stretched than it ever had before. 

“Jesus Christ,” his forehead dropped to your shoulder, his breaths coming in keening, desperate pants. “Holy fucking God you’re tight, fuck…” 

You started to ride him then, beginning slow but hard, lifting your hips up before slamming yourself back down on him, your channel gripping him tight every time he was thrust up into you. 

His hands went to your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of you, clinging to you as you worked his cock. 

“Take it like this?” You panted in his ear before sinking your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder. 

“Fuck, just like that,” his hands were more desperate on you now, like he was going to lose control. “Want you to make yourself cum on my fuckin’ cock, want to feel you cum all over my fuckin’ cock…” 

Your pussy tightened further around him and you pressed your chest tightly against against him, riding him hard and fast now, your clit pressing against the softness of his stomach with every firm thrust. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you gasped as you came, taking him all the way inside yourself and holding him there as you pulsed around him. 

It was like he’d been waiting for you to cum, waiting for you to be so lost in your own orgasm that you couldn’t do anything to stop him from taking what he wanted. 

His arms went around you and he picked you up for a moment before pressing you down into your bed, his cock buried in you to the root. He started fucking into you while your pussy still throbbed around him. Your hands flew to your bed, fingers tangling in the sheets as he spread your legs wide and looked down to where you were joined. 

“Fuck, look at you takin’ me so goddamn well,” he groaned, increasing his pace. Your pussy started to contract around him again, your clit both begging for attention but so oversensitive that you were worried him toying with it would make you cry. “Tight fuckin’ pussy so goddamn good…” 

He pressed a thumb into your clit and it was like a shockwave rolled through you, something almost like another orgasm coursing through you. But it offered no relief, just driving yourself to get tighter around Joel, your body trying to bring him deeper, hold onto him for longer. 

“Not gonna last long with pussy this goddamn good,” he said, leaning over you and kissing and biting down your jaw to your throat. You rocked your hips up against him in desperate, stuttering thrusts. “Where do you want me, Baby?” 

“On my clit,” you moaned. “Fuck, please…” 

“Jesus,” he groaned, fucking into you harder, his cock forcing you to stretch over him to just shy of the point of pain with every motion.  Your body was so taut again you were worried you were going to snap with it, with the aching drive of pleasure and want taking over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna…” 

He thrust in you twice more before pulling out of you and jerking himself just once over your dripping slit. He pressed his swollen cock head to your clit and gasped as he came, spilling himself over you, the warm pulsing of his spend triggering your orgasm. 

“Fuck you’re so pretty when you cum,” he panted, watching as the last of his cum dripped onto your throbbing clit. He ran his thumb up from your hole through your slit to your overwrought clit, rubbing his cum into you as he circled your clit, making you shudder and gasp as your orgasm eased. 

He took one last, long look at your naked body before collapsing beside you, still panting for breath. 

“So,” he said after a minute. “Still think you’d rather have a bagel?” 

You laughed once. 

“Bagels can go to hell,” you said. “As long as you promise to do that to me again.” 

“Any time you want, Pretty Girl,” he said. “Any time you want.” 

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Snow Over Hawkins

A/N: Another holiday fic? From me, after not posting in months? Who would've thought. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday or simply a peaceful winter! Thank you for reading! This jumps between 1996 and 1986 (the events of S4). Reader does celebrate Christmas in this and there is a lot of Christmas imagery. Also, I make Eddie a rockstar. Because it is what he deserves. :)

Pairing: Eddie Munson/F!Reader

Rating: PG-A soft little, melodramatic thing

Word Count: 10.4k

Summary: Perhaps coming to your ten year high school reunion was a mistake. But, as a blizzard rolls in just in time for the holidays, you may have to confront a specter from your past: Eddie Munson.

**1996**

Oh no.

There were too many people. Maybe if you just…turned right around and left, no one would know you had even come and-

A shout of your name quickly quashed that plan but your shoulders fell a fraction from around your ears as you spotted Robin weaving her way through the crowd to get to you. She was quick to throw her arms around you in a tight hug as if she hadn’t just seen you when she dropped you off at the hotel an hour ago and you two didn’t have a standing agreement to get together every two weeks at the little café down the street from your apartment in New York.

“God. Why did we come here?” She mumbled into your hair before pulling back.

“You were the one who said we should rub it in everyone’s faces that we are rich and successful and they peaked in high school.”

Robin groaned. “Must you remember everything I said?”

“I must.” You sighed and glanced over her shoulder at the milling crowd. The gigantic Christmas trees were bleeding green and red lights all over the large space. The event center for the reunion was an abject holiday wonderland, complete with fake flickering candles and artificial snow. Christmas songs were playing over the speakers, muted beneath the conversation between old classmates. Even the sign that read, “Welcome back, Tigers! Class of ‘86!” was made of red and green paper. “Nancy said she and Jonathan would be here, too. Have you seen them? Their flight left before ours.”

“Not yet. But you know who I have seen?” There was a conspiratorial gleam in her eye that had you frowning.

Before she could answer, someone darted by you with a squealed, “oh my god, I can’t believe it! I thought they were on tour!”

Your heart dropped to your feet. “Robin-”

“Nothing has to happen. He just happens to be in the same room as you for the first time in over ten years and-”

“And it changes nothing. He’s still…” The words trailed off as you dropped your chin to your chest. Robin rubbed a hand on your arm with a hum, she was always tactile with you, knowing when you most needed a friendly touch. “Pathetic, right? Ten years and thousands of miles and he still makes me feel like a little girl with an unreciprocated crush.”

“It has always been more than that.”

You winced. “That doesn’t help, Robs.”

She linked her arm with yours and started tugging you toward the table set up with hot chocolate and all the fixings, dodging a hulking pair of men in ill-fitting suits who you were sure never went to Hawkins High. Someone had been “kind” enough to leave little bottles of alcohol in a messy pile, too, so anyone could spike their own drink if wanted.

A glance back at the crowd nearly had your heart stuttering, already bruised. A headful of dark curls and warm eyes immediately caught your attention and suddenly you were a teenager again. Turning your head away felt like a herculean effort and you reached for one of the small bottles of whiskey and dumped it into your cup.

**1986**

Your head was spinning. There were monsters in Hawkins. …or not in Hawkins, but in a different dimension that you were currently trapped in. Running the school paper with Nancy was supposed to be a safe extracurricular activity—something to bolster your applications to your dream university. But after watching Fred fucking

levitate

and hearing his bones snap under the power of something unseen, you were sure it was one of the worst decisions you’d ever made. And now you were here after jumping out of the boat, your hand in Nancy’s. At least now you know why Robin and Steve had been extra cagey about the mall fire over the summer.

“You’re bleeding a bit,” Eddie said, crouching near you as you huddled beneath Skull Rock.

“What?” Your voice was hoarse from all the screaming you’d just done, arms aching from beating the damn bat creatures with a broken oar.

Eddie said nothing as he tore at his shirt and then pressed it to your temple, wincing alongside you. “Sorry, sorry. Just didn’t think you’d want a bleeding head wound in a place like this.”

You almost snorted. And it was probably the head wound and the adrenaline coursing through your system but your tongue didn’t tangle as it so often did around Eddie. “Oh? You come here often?”

Eddie’s cheeks bloomed with color, visible even under the grime. “Oh, c’mon. Can’t have a pretty girl bleeding.”

**1996**

“Gimme a sip of that,” Nancy said instead of a greeting as she stormed to your side. She took a hearty swig of your spiked hot chocolate and nearly spat it out. “What did you put in that?”

“Whiskey.”

“Jesus!” She wiped at her mouth, eyes watering.

Jonathan was a few paces behind her, wrapping his arms around you in a quick hug before doing the same to Robin. “Seems to be quite the turnout even with the storm rolling in.”

“Imagine if we all get snowed in. Trapped with all these people,” Robin said, dread dripping from every syllable.

“I’ll walk back to my parents’ house in the snow. I don’t care,” Nancy said, only relaxing when Jonathan stepped to her back and wrapped an arm over her shoulders.

“Tough day?”

“My editor called and said he wanted a rewrite by midnight for this article-”

“You got it done,” Jonathan quietly murmured.

“But I shouldn’t’ve had to do it at all! No one else’s articles get that kind of treatment. Goddamn Greg can write a puff piece about when to watch the cherry blossoms in each borough and use the wrong ‘there’ but he doesn’t even get a sternly worded email.”

You and Robin wore matching winces and hid behind your hot chocolate. “Didn’t you say The Economist was trying to poach you after your big editorial about that governor?”

Nancy nodded and sunk a little further into Jonathan’s grip. Her engagement ring sparkled in the twinkling lights. Their long-awaited engagement party just a few blocks from your apartment had been hosted a handful of months ago where you’d readily accepted Nancy’s invitation to be a bridesmaid. It certainly took them long enough. “And I’m considering it. But we’d have to move to London.”

Another twittering laugh drew all of your attentions and you saw Eddie stand and wrap and arm around someone you vaguely recognized as someone from the debate team as another person took a picture, the flash of their disposable camera nearly blinding even across the room.

Nancy’s blue eyes quickly zeroed in on you. “Have you talked to him?”

“No. He’s surrounded. Has been all night. I don’t want to be…that girl, anyway. Probably doesn’t even remember me.”

**1986**

“Look, I’m all for you, like, actually telling Eddie how you feel but maybe you could think of a more romantic setting for all this?” Robin nearly hissed as you continued on through the rotted forest of the Upside Down.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are making googly eyes at him—and he’s reciprocating! That guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you once since you beat that bat to death.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what really gets him going, Robs. Sure. Keep your voice down!” You grumbled in return, trying to ignore the heat in your chest.

You’d had a crush on Eddie since last year when you were paired up in History for your final project. Your sessions in the school library had become the highlight of your week pretty quickly after you realized how kind and funny he was, how brown his eyes were, and how they really sparkled whenever he spoke of something he was passionate about (which was never history, but you would let it slide because you loved his smile). You didn’t even mind that he gently teased you about your favorite song, Flaco’s “Rock Me Amadeus” and promised to “teach you about real music.” After passing the final project with flying colors, Eddie had gifted you a mixtape with a shy smile and pink cheeks “Just to say ‘thanks,’ you know, for helping me pass. I might not graduate this year, but I don’t have to repeat this class again and that was all because of you. But here’s your first lesson on real music, Amadeus.” Before you could say anything, he kissed your cheek and turned away, letting you get swallowed by the moving bodies of the hallway. And Robin, who you’d befriended while working at the mall over the summer (you worked at the lingerie store right next to Scoops Ahoy) had been your first confidante about your feelings. Steve, bless him, had guessed correctly after you came into the ice cream shop moping one Wednesday after you’d watched Eddie flirt with the bartender (again) at The Hideout during a Corroded Coffin gig. And then he was offering his “advice,” too, and telling you that your secret was safe with him, even if he didn’t really understand your feelings for “The Freak.” At all.

The feelings that hadn’t faded for over a year.

Steve and Robin hadn’t judged you, as so many others would, and you had earned Robin’s secret in return, an easy friendship blossoming right before the mall burnt down. As your senior year started and you once again found yourself at Eddie’s side more often than not in the hallways and shared classes and your easy comradery with the three-peat senior developed into inside jokes and more mixtapes disguised as ‘lessons,’ Robin and Steve had always encouraged you to at least try. And you never did. You’d rather have him as a friend than nothing at all. And he was…he was your friend. A good friend who always smiled at you from the stage at The Hideout, who seemed to actually do his homework when you jokingly said you wouldn’t hug him anymore, who always made you smile when you had a shit day. Confiding in each other about your shitty parents (his were felons, yours were drug addicts) and then being raised by others had been another thing that bonded you. You had your aging grandparents and Eddie had Wayne but you both knew that it was different. Always. He’d hold your hand when you cried about feeling like you were missing something and you always told he’d amount to more than his parents when he struggled, too. You were there for each other in ways your other friends couldn’t understand. And that almost made it worse.

“All I’m saying is that he is obviously into you. Like a lot. But maybe wait until we aren’t in the sixth circle of hell to act on it.”

“This isn’t the sixth circle…this would be, like, the tenth. I think.”

Robin smacked the back of her hand into your arm with a pointed look “You’re avoiding the topic.”

“I’m avoiding nothing except these stupid vines!”

Eddie jogged to your side with a tired smile. “Hey, think we’re getting close to the Wheeler house?”

You nodded and glanced ahead where Nancy was leading the way, ignoring how Robin pinched at your side. A quiet shout of Robin’s name had you all turning and Steve was waving her back to his side and she darted away, leaving you alone with Eddie. Heat bloomed in your chest as he smiled at you, as it always did. A comforting warmth like settling in front of a roaring fireplace on a cold winter’s night.

Eddie knocked his shoulder into yours as you all continued on, another smile on his face. Only Eddie would be able to smile in a place like this. “You know, I’m glad you’re here with me in all of this.”

And now you had to smile, too, despite everything. “In the Upside Down?”

He blushed and stuttered something unintelligible before knocking his shoulder into yours again, pulling a quiet laugh from you. “Yeah, next time we have to fight monsters, I’ll make sure we’re at Enzo’s.”

“It’s a date.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to shove them back down your throat. Dammit. “I mean, you know, not a date, but yeah, we can keep fighting monsters together.” You winced at your messy jumble of words. Great. “I’m…For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here with me, too.”

**1996**

“What do you mean you didn’t listen to any of their music?” Robin asked, taking your hot chocolate away from you.

“I tried! But then he started singing about this person’s pretty eyes and wanting them to leave lipstick stains on his throat and I turned it off.” You sounded like a petulant child but you couldn’t help it. Hearing about how Eddie wanted something like that with someone who obviously wasn’t you hurt. It ached like a dull knife twisting between your ribs. The years hadn’t lessened the pain at all.

Robin and Nancy looked at each other, some silent communication that had you gritting your teeth. And then Jonathan patted your shoulder like you were some sort of idiot. “You really should have listened to it.”

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you muttered. “It has been ten years. Look at him.” Waving a hand at the ever growing crowd around Eddie, you tried to ignore the burn of tears at the back of your eyes. “He is a rock star. How many Grammy’s does he have?” (You knew he had two.)

Despite avoiding listening to any of his music, you had watched his meteoric rise to fame with a bittersweet happiness. It was what he deserved after everything. Being accused and then cleared of murder actually seemed to bolster his image as a rock god and helped Corroded Coffin land their first record deal. There was always a quip about it in every magazine or gossip rag that interviewed him or ran an article with his face at the center. It was part of his “mystique” as one journalist called it.

And the town that had always hated him now celebrated his success as their own. There were former football players and cheerleaders waiting their turn to get his autograph or take a picture with him, arm slung over his shoulder as if they were old friends. As if they hadn’t tried to hunt him down after Jason fucking Carver branded him a vessel for Satan. The lights caught on his hair, shining and soft, and a little shorter than it had been in school. Red then green then red again. Still so handsome. Even more so now, with a bit of stubble lining his jaw. He’d always be handsome, wouldn’t he?

Just as Bing Crosby started to croon, a woman with an orange tan stepped onto the small stage and tapped the microphone. “Hi everyone! My name is Tina-”

“We’d never forget you, Tina!” Someone shouted from the middle of the crowd.

She laughed and the microphone protested, screeching with feedback for a moment. “Well, as head of the Hawkins Alumni association, I welcome you all back to Hawkins. Can you believe it’s been ten years?”

As she prattled on, you and your friends grabbed seats at a table toward the back. She started to go through a slideshow of pictures from your senior year, taking an overly dramatic pause “in remembrance” for “Jason’s” victims and everyone else who died or was injured during the earthquake. Nancy’s foot knocked into yours beneath the table and you both rolled your eyes as Tina wiped a tear from her eye. Then, to your horror, she clicked onto the next slide that was a picture of you, holding Eddie’s leather jacket, exiting the hospital covered in bruises and blood and the grime of the Upside Down and patched up like a terrible pantomime of healthcare.

“But we have always been a class of survivors!” She continued on, speaking about the “tragedies” that befell Hawkins as if she knew anything about them. It was all a dull roar in your ears as she clicked through a few more pictures of the town being rebuilt. She’d just glossed over one of the worst days of your life as if it was nothing. Just another picture for her welcome speech.

“I need some air.”

Nancy squeezed your arm as you stood, slipping out of the room without a look back.

**1986**

You handed Dustin his nail-riddled shield and watched him and Eddie pretend to block invisible enemies, laughing with each other. You wanted to join in. Wanted to laugh and revel in being alive a little longer but the sinking feeling in your gut kept you from doing anything other than continuing to batter nails in through a trashcan lid and hope it would be enough.

Would it be enough?

Even if you all lived through this, would the alibi you and Nancy cooked up to cover for Eddie be enough? It was already set in motion when the police had questioned you after Fred’s death and you made no mention of Eddie, but would they believe you?

“Hey.”

You looked up, fingers curled painfully around the hammer, to see Eddie standing in front of you. The dying sunlight framed him, casting an ethereal glow around him and piercing your chest. Beautiful.

He moved to sit on the carton beside you, knee bumping yours as he swiveled toward you. “Gonna tell me what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours, Amadeus, or should I guess?”

Despite everything, you felt your lips curling up the slightest bit at the sound of the ridiculous nickname. “Guess.”

He hummed, stroking his chin with a dramatic flair. “You’re wondering if I have any weed on me and the answer is yes.” Then he pulled a (decidedly damp) baggie from the pocket of his jacket and dropped it onto your lap. “I wouldn’t smoke that though. I’m not entirely sure what lake water and…those spore things have done to it.”

You tossed the bag back to him and he almost caught it. “Try again.”

And so, he tried again and again, his guesses getting more ridiculous as the time passed until you were giggling, heart a little lighter and the final shield finished.

“Would the fair maiden take pity on her poor jester and tell him what made her so sad?” He asked, his warm hand curling over your knee and squeezing twice.

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head. “Just worried, ‘s all. Worried about Max. Worried about Robin. Worried about Nancy. Worried about Dustin. Worried about Lucas. Worried about Steve. The only person I’m not worried about is Erica—she’s going to rule the world one day, I know it.”

“Worried about me?”

And that just about broke you. “’Course I’m worried about you, Eddie. I’m always worried about you. Even without Jason and Vecna looming over everything, of course I worry about you.”

He squeezed at your knee again until you looked at him and then he was reaching out to cup your face, thumbs gently swiping against the slope of your cheeks. “Always, huh?” His grip didn’t falter even as you nodded. “Well, it sounds like you have enough to worry about, don’t need to add me to your list.”

“Eddie-”

“Hey.” Gently, he angled your face up so he could look at you properly, dark eyes staring into yours. “I promise you, I’m going to be fine. And you are, too. All of us are getting out of this.”

“Promise?” You whispered, the syllables cracking in your throat as your shaking hand covered his.

Eddie leaned forward to press his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering shut. “I promise.”

**1996**

One look out the window let you know that this snowstorm was probably one for the history books. Giant white flakes were falling in a rush from the dark sky, already sticking to the sidewalks and hazing the light of the lampposts. The outdoor Christmas trees just a few feet outside the window were nearly covered, too, the snow making their lights glow like candles. It was pretty. Sure, you’d grown accustomed to the holidays in New York, but snow in Hawkins during the holidays? Almost nothing could beat it.

Nat King Cole’s voice echoed down the hall, providing a soft melody to the quiet moment, and nearly had your wounded heart calming. Nearly.

The door opening behind you pulled a sigh from your throat, expecting to hear one of your friends call out to you. Instead you heard a loud giggle and the tapping of heels against the linoleum tiles, steps unsteady and uneven. Nancy knew how to sprint in heels and Robin didn’t own anything other than sneakers and brightly colored flats so it wasn’t them-

“-can’t believe how she just got up and left!”

“I know! So rude!”

While obviously drunk, the women who probably called you names in high school for being a little socially awkward and not having the newest clothes, were not high on your list of potential “catch-ups.”

God. Why did you even come here? All the people you wanted to keep in touch with from high school, you already did. You had a small group of them in New York and you had scheduled phone calls with Steve and the kids, too. You didn’t need to come here. You definitely should not have.

But it didn’t matter now anyway. As the voices grew louder, you skittered further down the hall and wrenched open the nearest door and all but threw yourself inside, leaving the door open just enough to let a bit of light in, waiting to hear the women pass. You nearly stepped onto a tangle garland as you slunk into the shadows. The closet was filled with extra decorations. Stockings, wreaths, and tangled bundles of lights lined the shelves and had you flinching as something snapped beneath your shoe.

“Oh, but did you see Eddie?” One of the women asked. You immediately hated her tone. It sounded like something you’d accidentally come across late at night, when a few of the channels played more risqué films.

“How could I miss him?” There was a strange noise, it almost sounded like groan. Was it supposed to be a moan? “If I had known he’d be a rock star and looked like that, I wouldn’t have called him a freak in high school.”

“Oh, shut up Carol, yes you would’ve! Probably just not to his face!”

Their answering cackles echoed down the hall and you grimaced behind the door—the one small victory was that they seemed to be walking away from you, rather than toward. Still, you didn’t understand how people could still be so needlessly cruel. Eddie had always been handsome. Always. And he’d never been a freak. He just liked his roleplaying game and making his music. Sure, he was outspoken and a little abrasive to some…but he was a good man. He had always been a good man.

And those women obviously learned nothing from how they’d treated him in high school.

Your forehead knocked against the door as you continued to hold it barely open, and you tried to suck in a steadying breath. You never should have come. Even without talking to him, Eddie was still looming like some sort of Ghost of Christmas Past.

You sounded pathetic, didn’t you? It had been ten years since you’d parted ways and lived separate lives. You were one of the curators up at the Met in New York; your dream job in a vibrant city. You were paid well and had an ironclad support system with your friends. But Eddie still ached, a pain with a beautiful face. Wasn’t it time you moved on?

Yes. It had to be. (But how many times had you told yourself that?)

Straightening your shoulders, you moved to open the door only to have the knob ripped out of your hand as the door was thrown open and then you were all but shoved into a stack of wreaths and the door shut with a sharp snap.

“Jesus!” You nearly shouted, scrambling to stay upright in the dark and only mildly succeeding, your palm slapping against a shelf and toppling a neat stack of ribbons.

“Oh shit. Sorry!” A familiar voice answered and your heart leapt.

In the dim light of the closet, you recognized the curls and the soft cut of his jaw. “Eddie?”

**1986**

“Don’t try to be cute.” Steve’s warning only made you roll your eyes, pushing at him to rejoin Nancy and Robin.

“You’re the one who managed to accessorize before going into battle, Harrington. You’re cute enough for the both of us.”

Steve huffed and tugged at your wrist to press a hard kiss to your forehead. “Take care of Dustin, okay? Take care of both of them.”

“I will. Take care of my girls, too.”

“Hey, Steve?” You both turned at the sound of Eddie’s voice to see him take a few steps forward, mouth set in a firm line. “Make him pay.”

Steve nodded, intentions clear. But, just before he turned back toward Nancy and Robin, he reached for you again. “Tell him. Tell him and fight like hell so you can actually do something about it.”

And god…you wanted to scoff, tell him that now as definitely not the time for confessions of any kind. You were trying to stay alive! But you couldn’t scoff. Couldn’t roll your eyes. All you could do was tap at his chest with a grimace you hoped looked like a smile. “Stay safe, Steve. Come back. All of you. We’ll see you on the other side.”

Then, he was jogging back to the others while you turned to see Eddie and Dustin waiting for you. And their hopeful smiles were a knife between your ribs. “Let’s get this started, okay?” You said, clapping your hands together. As you busied yourself with trying to fortify the Upside Down version of the Munson trailer, you tried to tell yourself that this was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. In a few hours, you could walk into the police station, clear Eddie’s name and no one would realize how close you all came to apocalypse.

But it didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel…safe.

“Hey…”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a warm hand closed over yours, halting your attempt to screw in a bit of sheet metal over a window. Your next breath wheezed out of you as you looked into Eddie’s molten brown eyes. “Eddie.”

“You okay?”

“I’m, yeah, I’m fine. As fine as we can be, about to provide an absolutely insane distraction so our friends can kill an interdimensional super villain. Yeah. Fine.”

Eddie stepped a bit closer, gentle hands sliding up your arms to cup around the back of your neck, pulling you closer to rest his forehead against yours again. “I made you a promise, didn’t I? We are going to be fine.”

You could tell him right now. Just open your mouth and say it. But the words turned to molasses at the back of your throat and you could only nod, tugging at the bottom of his vest and zipping it up properly.

“C’mon, sweetheart. We’ve got a concert to play.”

**1996**

“What’re you doing in a closet?”

“What are you doing in a closet?” You quickly retorted, embarrassed heat starting to curl around your throat.

“If I had to take one more picture with someone who called me a freak in high school, I might actually set something on fire.”

You laughed, clapping your hands over your mouth before the noise could truly escape. “Jesus, sorry. I thought you…were doing well.”

“I just needed a break.” You could hear the exhaustion dripping from each letter. “Gimme a crowded stadium any day over that.”

Before you could do anything else, you were nearly knocked onto your ass by Eddie abruptly turning and throwing his arms out, fingers dragging against the wall in search of something. “What’re you doing?”

“I need a light. I want to talk to you in the light—need to see your face.”

Oh, the heat was nearly suffocating now. He could still make you feel like a teenager. When it seemed he wouldn’t be finding the switch, you went to open the door and then felt your heart drop to your toes. “Eddie.”

“What, Amadeus?”

Despite the smile you felt pressing at your lips, muscle memory and Eddie’s ineffable charm slotting between your ribs like a missing piece of a puzzle, dread pricked at the back of your mind. For good reason. “I think we’re locked in.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment before his warm, guitar-string-roughened hand closed over yours as it continued to jiggle the door knob and then he tried, too. “Shit.”

“Shit,” you agreed.

“J-just hang on.” He stepped back and you heard him rummaging blindly in the dark before twinkling white light nearly blinded you. Somehow, he’d found a strand of Christmas lights and an outlet, illuminating the cramped closet in their butter yellow light. “There we go,” Eddie said, sounding more than a little pleased with himself. He stood straight, still holding the bundle of lights like something precious. His dark brown eyes reflected the soft light, almost making them sparkle.

And your poor heart could scarcely handle it.

“God, Amadeus. It’s been too long.” He moved forward like he wanted to do something else, maybe hug you, but stopped short.

Your smile faded as you glanced down to the cluttered floor beneath your shoes. “Yeah, um, ten years or so. B-but you’ve done well for yourself, Mister Rock Star.”

Eddie’s cheeks bloomed with color but he did not look away. “You listened to my music?”

If the world could open up and swallow you whole, you would appreciate it. But apparently Hawkins had had enough of earthquakes and you were forced to tell Eddie the truth, your feet on solid ground, in a small closet filled with Christmas light. “I…I couldn’t.”

His smile wavered. “Oh.”

“I-it isn’t that I think you make bad music. I actually quite like it! It…it is just…” God. Stupid. So stupid.

“You still prefer your pop nonsense, yeah?” Eddie drawled, dropping the bundle of lights onto a shelf.

“I mean, yeah, but tha-that isn’t what I’m trying to say!” You turned away from him, trying not to hate yourself more. You missed the days when you could talk to him easily. You missed the early days after everything blew over and the gates were finally closed and you’d talk for hours on the phone after you settled at NYU, trying to keep each other up-to-date on the happenings in your lives. They’d been a highlight of your week, dashing to the phone in your dorm at exactly six o’clock to make sure you’d never miss the call. But the calls had dwindled after Corroded Coffin’s first single topped the charts. You tried not to feel rejected when he missed more and more calls. But the nail in the metaphorical coffin had been when Wayne, good and sweet Wayne, had picked up the phone and told you, gently, that Eddie was going on tour and wouldn’t be back again. You received a postcard here and there after you graduated from university, from different cities around the globe where Corroded Coffin was touring. The ink would be smudged and faded by the time it got to you, but you kept all of them just the same. Pressing your fingers against the messy handwriting, stilted letters saying he missed you, as if that would be enough. And it never was. And then those stopped, too. He’d left you behind.

“You just have it all, Eddie. And I don’t know how you ever...” The words trailed off and you shook your head. None of this mattered now. He’d moved on. You were a ghost to him, too. Fruitlessly, you tried to open the door again with the same result: you were still locked in. And then the closet was too small, too warm all at once. The handle jiggled uselessly in your grasp. Were the walls inching closer? Had the lights caught fire? “Can you open this lock?”

“Just because I can hotwire a car, doesn’t mean I can pick a lock, Amadeus.” There was almost a hint of a tease in his tone. Almost. “Must’ve missed that lesson.”

You nodded, eyes trained on the unopened door. “Right. Sorry.” You needed to be let out. Needed to run far, far away before you made a complete ass of yourself.

“Good to know what you think of me.”

You turned abruptly, nearly falling—again—as you reached for him with uncoordinated fingers. “That isn’t what I’m saying, Eddie! I…” The words were sticky toffee at the back of your tongue. Unmovable and hard. “I…”

“Why didn’t you listen to my music?”

**1986**

Everything had gone wrong in a matter of moments. You had watched, heart in your throat, as Eddie played his heart out—you recognized the song. It had been on the tape he’d given you just last week.

Lesson 17

was scrawled across the shell’s spine alongside a smudged demon. Eddie had been glorious and every inch a rock star and the plan had worked and it still all went to shit.

The bats were coming too fast. There were too many of them. You and Eddie all but shoved Dustin up the knotted rope and then Eddie made sure you went up next. But then he had the stupid, beautiful, tragic idea that he needed to be a hero. He was already a hero. Had always been a hero. But he still cut the rope as you and Dustin yelled and pleaded for him to stop.

He didn’t.

Then you were dragging the small table near the door under the gate and leaping leaping leaping until you could grab at the edge and haul yourself up and through. The world swam in front of your eyes as your skull bounced on the dirty floor but you still got to your feet and rushed out with a scream of Eddie’s name. Bats swarmed in the distance, too preoccupied with something else in the distance—and you knew exactly what it was…or who.

The first bat nearly took you off your feet with a screech, tail looping around your ankle. But you pushed forward, even as another tore at your neck and another burrowed between your jacket and your shirt and ripped through the fabric like a red-hot knife through butter. But you only saw Eddie. You continued to push through until you could fling yourself over his prone form. The serrated teeth of the demobats continued to try to devour you both as you tucked Eddie’s face into your neck and hope it was enough. Even in your scrambled state, you tried to keep the important parts covered.

And you hoped.

Because that was all you could do aside from scream.

Blood coated the back of your throat, either from the force of your screams or from the blow to the face you’d taken earlier. But it didn’t matter when you heard the bats suddenly go silent before falling to the ground in a terrible downpour. The last one hit the ground with a splat and you were surging to your knees to look Eddie over.

“C-can you stand for me?” You asked as you knelt beside him, already shoving your hands beneath his shoulders.

Eddie struggled for a moment, blood-caked teeth gritting, before falling back to the ground. “Just…give me a minute.”

This was not good. Not good. Even if the bats dying meant that the plan might’ve worked, Eddie was still… You shifted, putting his head in your lap as you pressed down against the larger of the bites on his chest, feeling his blood soak your skin immediately. “Take all the time you need, okay? I’m not…I’m not leaving without you.”

Eddie made a noise. It almost sounded like a laugh. “Was just trying to buy more time.” Each word had his chest heaving.

“You were trying to be a hero, Eddie,” you almost scolded. “You didn’t need to do that. Y-you were already a hero. You already helped.” Tears started to blur your vision but you blinked them back, trying to keep him in your sight even as the strange spores, the bastardized Upside Down version of snow, started to coat you both. You wouldn’t take your eyes away from him. Not now. “Silly boy.” You pulled him a little closer, trying to ignore how slick your hands felt, pressing tighter against whatever you could reach. “You made me a promise, Eddie,” you whispered. “You promised.”

“I know.” The words were garbled. Wet. Teeth stained red. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

The tears stung and burned but you didn’t have the energy to will them away this time. He could feel it, too. “Dust-Dustin’s on his way. He can help. And Steve an-and Nancy and Robin. They’ll be here soon, too.”

Eddie nodded and you could feel his next breath stutter and stall beneath your hands. “I’m…I’m glad it’s you with me.”

“Eddie. Don’t. Don’t talk like that,” you pleaded, voice cracking. Your vision blurred even as you pressed tighter, crimson bleeding across white. You just needed him to hold on a little longer. Just a little longer. You could help him get better if you just had a little more time. “You’re going to be fine. You have to flip off Higgins, remember?”

“Y-yeah, Amadeus. I remember.” He sighed and his dark eyes found yours through your tears. “But at the end of the world? I’m glad I get to see it with you.”

“We can see everything together. Okay? Anything you want, we can go see it together.”

He nodded and then a shaking, bloody finger reached up to barely graze against your neck before falling back down to the ground. “You’re hurt.”

The adrenaline was keeping most of it at bay, you were sure. The bats had done a number on you. But right now? Right now it didn’t matter. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Eddie’s mouth opened, some retort on his tongue but all that came out was a wet wheeze and you felt his heartbeat stutter beneath your palm. “Eddie, no, Eddie, no, no, no. You gotta stay with me, okay? Stay with me!” You pressed harder at his chest and looked out to the grey horizon, hoping to see your friends, hoping to see some sort of salvation. “Help me,” you screamed. “Help!”

But all you saw was the strange snow.

**1996**

It was a simple enough question, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you listen to his music? Maybe now really was the time to move on. Your hand slipped from the doorknob and you crossed your arms over your chest as if that would protect you or offer comfort. Bing Crosby was singing now, muffled behind the door.

“You are a rock star, Eddie. I always knew you’d make it. Always. You were destined to be one of the good ones, one of the greats. Do you remember me bribing the guy at The Hideout just to let me in because I was underage? I just wanted to listen to you play. I wanted to see you the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I sang every song. I studied every mixtape you gave me like my life depended on it. And then you…made it. You made it, Eddie. And you left me behind.”

Eddie’s face fell, all traces of anger draining away in a second. He murmured your name.

But you weren’t done. “And I told myself that it was okay. It was okay because I just wanted you to be happy. And I thought I could, I don’t know, move on or something. I got my dream job. I live in the best city in the world. I have good friends and my grandparents finally got out of this shitty town and are living it up in Albuquerque.” You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Eddie reached out to you, gentle yet roughened fingers pressing at your cheeks to catch your tears. And your poor heart stuttered at the simple touch. How long had it been since he’d touched you like that? “And I heard about your adventures through Jonathan or Steve. Nancy even did an editorial on your band the first time you headlined at Madison Square Garden, remember that? But you never asked for me. Never reached out.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, still holding you close. His voice was low but strained, like he wanted to pull away but couldn’t force himself to do so, as if his fingertips had seared themselves to you. “You could’ve asked any of them for my number, my address, anything-”

“You were the one who stopped taking my calls, Eddie.” The simple sentence was ripped from your throat between sobs, over a decade finally cracking open. “And then you were singing about girls leaving lipstick stains on your throat and it would never be me. Never me no matter how much I loved you.”

Eddie’s face twisted and something you didn’t understand flittered across his face, something almost like heartbreak. Something almost like betrayal. Something almost like self-loathing. “You think I don’t-”

And then the door opened.

**1986**

Hawkins had been ripped open. While Vecna had been killed by Nancy and Eleven, he’d made one last ditch effort to bring the Upside Down to your world and had cracked open three gates; earthquakes shattering the small town.

Max’s knee was broken and she’d need physical therapy to walk normally again.

Lucas had a concussion from his showdown with Jason.

Steve needed a skin graft.

You were finally able to pull the three dozen stitches out of your skin after a few weeks but the doctor’s harried voice had echoed cruelly in your mind, “if that cut had been any deeper, you would’ve been dead in seconds.” Comforting. You’d been all but shoved onto a hospital bed and rubbed down with alcohol pads before dozens of stitches were sewn through your skin and you were told to leave to make room for others. The hospital had been a mad house when you’d stepped out into the hall, filled to bursting with people needing attention, battered and bruised and bleeding.

But it had been okay. It had been okay because your little ragtag team of friends had won and Eddie was alive and he gave you a slow, sleepy smile as you slipped into his room. “Hey, Amadeus.” He didn’t seem to care about the handcuff chaining him to the bed.

It didn’t last long, anyway. Your and Nancy’s alibi, Jason’s mysterious disappearance, his goons’ ramblings about seeing Max lift into the air, coupled with the well-timed reappearance of Chief Hopper helped the town begrudgingly accept that Eddie was innocent. There were still whispers, of course. Some thought that Eddie used his “satanic powers” to possess Jason into killing Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick, but you made it no mind after the cuff around his wrist was removed and you sat in his room, waiting for him to wake up between surgeries. You passed the time by doing the take home work your teachers had given you with the promise that if it was completed, it would take the place of any final exams and you’d graduate with no problems. Then, when that was finished, you did Eddie’s stack, too. You met his Uncle Wayne and he gave you a small smile when you introduced yourself, like he knew something you didn’t. He had been the one to give you Eddie’s jacket, saying he knew you’d keep it safe, on the first night at the hospital.

“He’s gonna be mad when he learns you did all that for ‘im.”

You shrugged and took the proffered hot chocolate he got for you at the hospital cafeteria. “He can be mad at me all the way across the graduation stage.”

“He did say you were a stubborn, sweet thing.”

The pencil nearly fell from between your fingers and you gaped up at Wayne before looking at Eddie at the bed, looking healthier by the day and just out of his third surgery. “He said that?”

Wayne only gave you that same, secretive smile. It was the same smile he gave you as Eddie dragged you over to take a picture, your green graduation caps and gowns shining in the summer sunlight. Your grandparents were close behind, each brandishing a camera and telling you to smile. It was redundant as you hadn’t stopped giggling since Eddie flipped off Higgins, as he’d promised. But, just as Wayne raised his camera, Eddie pressed a kiss to your cheek and knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“That’s a framer,” your grandfather said, clapping Wayne on the back and inviting them to a celebratory lunch.

Their acceptance was on the tip of their tongues—you knew it—but a man in a dark suit loomed at your side and drew everyone’s attention. “Edward Munson?”

Questions upon questions ricocheted in your mind. Who was this man? Was Eddie in trouble? What-?

He held out a small card with a smile, looking at Eddie over the rim of his probably-expensive sunglasses. “I’ve heard good things about you and your band.”

**1996**

The two hulking figures you’d spotted earlier were crowding the doorway and all but pushed you aside to reach for Eddie. You stumbled, elbow knocking against one of the shelves and pain rippled up your arm with a hiss. “Jesus.”

Eddie was quick to grab at your other arm, trying to keep you stable and you hated how you liked how warm he felt, even through the thick bulk of your sweater. “Guys, c’mon, be carefu-”

But they paid you no mind. “The party’s over, boss. You can get your dick wet later. We gotta get out of here before…” The rest of the sentence was drowned out in the scuffle as he was yanked out of the closet and into the surprisingly busy hallway. Elvis was warbling about a Blue Christmas but you barely heard it over the bustle of everyone leaving in a rush. You blindly stepped out into the hall, feeling like someone had stuffed rumpled tissue between your ears. The entire world felt off kilter as someone ran by you, knocking into your shoulder. What was Eddie going to say? Why had finally telling him how you felt leave you aching?

A hand wrapping around your arm pulled you from your reverie and you looked up to see Steve Harrington giving you a familiar, soft smile. “Time to go, sweetheart. The others are waiting.” He quickly explained that Robin called him, asking him to pick them all up after all the taxis (not that there were many in Hawkins) had refused to take them anywhere in the storm.

As soon as the others reached your and Steve’s side, a feat considering the mad rush toward the door, he was all but shepherding you out to the startlingly white parking lot, the snow now up to the middle of your calves. Robin claimed the passenger seat, leaving you, Jonathan, and Nancy to squish into the back seat. The others chattered about how ridiculous the reunion was as you all waited your turn in the long line to exit the parking lot, more than a few cars already sliding or getting stuck in the snow. Steve was patient enough. You knew their conversation was mostly just to pass the time, to let you know they wouldn’t pry (yet), giving you an escape. You gave an anecdote or two, making them laugh when you mentioned how drunk everyone seemed to be. Steve nearly beamed as you commented on how nice the car seat digging into your leg was. “I read, like, six different books about what the best car seat was! The little lady loves it,” he said, using the nickname he was fond of for his daughter.

Robin was the first to be dropped off, after chattering about her PhD program, giving you all awkward hugs from her seat so you wouldn’t have to get out into the cold. She suggested that you all go to Paris the next time a reunion comes around, “you know, so I don’t want to contemplate murder again,” before scrambling out of the car and into her parents’ house. The snow had nearly blotted out the simple line of Christmas lights along the roof, but still shined through in twinkling greens and reds. You took her seat with a sigh, crawling over the center console as Steve shouted about seatbelts, sounding like the mom you knew him to be. Nancy leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek as soon as Steve slowed to a careful stop in front of their hotel—they’d told you, repeatedly, that they were not about to stay at either of their family’s houses for the holiday, no matter how much they loved them. Jonathan squeezed your arm and the pair murmured their thanks to Steve and they reaffirmed the plans to get together with all the kids at the Byers-Hopper house tomorrow, weather permitting, for the party you knew had been planned for months.

That left you alone with Steve and it took exactly forty-two seconds for him to ask, “so, you and Eddie in a closet, huh?”

“It-it wasn’t as salacious as you’re thinking, Steve. We both went in there to hide—separately, you know—and then the door somehow got locked and it was just a…fucking mess.” Slowly, an embarrassed heat pooling in your neck, you told him everything about how you’d finally, pathetically, told Eddie what you’d felt for over a decade.

Fat, white flakes continued their downward parade and the windshield wipers provided a steady beat to your disjointed story until you fell back into your seat, drained and tired. You could spot a few Christmas trees lit up behind half-closed curtains, their decorations a festive break against the growing snow. You frowned as Steve clicked off the radio, Wham’s Christmas earbug suddenly halting. He leaned over and grabbed something from the glovebox.

“Steve?”

He popped a tape shell open and pushed it into the tape deck before tossing the shell onto your lap. You turned it over to see a familiar album cover—it was Corroded Coffin’s latest album. Will Byers had been the one to draw the artwork, filled with bats and broken guitars. “Just listen, okay?” Steve asked, hand on the volume dial.

It wasn’t as if you had a choice, was it? But maybe it was time to finally do it, another way to close the chapter. So, you nodded, and Steve cranked the dial as soon as he fast-forwarded enough to the song he wanted.

The music started low and then quickly roared with heavy guitar and bass and an incessant drumbeat. It was all Eddie. It was Eddie. It was all Eddie and your fingers almost hurt as you clutched the little plastic case. The lyrics were good, and you could imagine this song getting your stuck in your head for weeks, painting a story about the a looming apocalypse, something you knew well. Then, Eddie’s voice came through, clear as day with the chorus, “at the end of the world, I’m glad it’s you…”

Oh.

Oh.

Shaking fingers pressed to your mouth as the song continued on, filled with lyrics about blood and darkness and looming death…and the saving touch of someone’s hand.

“I’m glad it’s you…”

“I’m glad it’s you…”

You flipped the case over and cursed the tears that blurred your vision as soon as you spotted the name of the song. The only song it could be.

Amadeus, at the End of the World

It was for you. But then Steve ejected the tape and put another in before you could truly let it sink in, a million and one thoughts coursing through your mind.

“Remember when you held me close with bloodstained hands?” Eddie sang on another song.

“Remember when you kept me breathing?”

When that song finished, Steve switched to a different track.

“Who worries over you, my girl?”

“Let me be the one to feel your heartbeat…”

And then he switched to another tape, never taking his eyes off the road.

Through raucous rifts and a bassline you could feel rattling your bones, Eddie sang, “you’re sunlight sweet and I’m your freak-Just give me your lips!”

Steve clicked off the radio as the song ended and you wiped fruitlessly at your cheeks; the tears had started during the first song and hadn’t stopped. “I’m so dumb.”

“You both are,” Steve agreed with a smile. He even patted your arm in consolation. “He asked about you all the time and then swore us to secrecy about it. He kept saying that if you wanted to reach out, you would have.”

You sniffled, the burn of the bright snow blurring. “I didn’t have his number. I don’t even know where he lives.” There was a small mess of tapes and their shell cases in your lap by the time turned the Christmas music back on and you fiddled with each of them, as if the pieces of plastic would let you turn back time and make different choices.

“Don’t worry about that,” Steve said with a conspiratorial smile.

It was only then that you realized you weren’t anywhere near the hotel where you were staying. “Steve?” You were clear across town, actually, near the newer developments and high end houses that had been built after the earthquake and property prices had plummeted. Now, years later, you were told that these houses were easily worth over half a million dollars. Each were spaced out, with plenty of land, with brick and mortar mailboxes near the street.

“Just trust me.” He pulled down one of the long driveways and parked in front of a tasteful, craftsman-style home. Sparkling white lights were looped around the porch’s banisters and bloomed soft light across the growing snow. The large bay window near the front door had its curtains opens and a large tree was at its center, decorated with ornaments that looked homemade and adorable. But that wasn’t what caught your eye.

It was Eddie, adjusting the sparkling tree-topper as he chatted with someone you couldn’t see.

“He has a house here?” You asked, feeling even more stupid.

He shook his head. “He bought this place for his uncle after their first album won him that Grammy. Apparently, Wayne was almost too proud to accept it. But you know how stubborn Eddie can be.” He turned to you and gently squeezed your arm, comforting. “Go in,” Steve said. “I can come pick you up, if needed.”

You sniffled and nodded, giving him a watery thank you and another promise to see him tomorrow for the party, before climbing out, the tapes still in your hands. The snow crunched beneath your shoes and you nearly stumbled at the top step of the porch but continued on until you knocked at the front door. Your cheeks were cold but at least your tears had stopped. You must look a mess. But there was no turning back now. The door swung open a few moments later and Wayne stood in front of you, eyebrows pinched. As soon as he recognized you, he was quick to grab at your arm and urge you inside with a murmured, “now what’re you doin’ outside in this kinda weather?” Familiar affection dripped from each word. The door shut with a soft snap behind you. The inside of the house was beautiful and warm; a wall filled with hats and mugs almost had you tearing up again. Eddie must have never stopped buying him those for every birthday, Father’s Day, and Christmas. One of Burl Ives’ Christmas albums was playing on the record player in the corner and two mugs of hot chocolate were set on the table near the tree, steam curling above.

“I…” You rubbed at the end of your cold nose, jostling the tapes in your hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude-”

A smile started to push at Wayne’s face as he noticed what you were carrying and then glanced at something behind you. “Well, you know I’ve always been happy to see you. But I don’t think you’re here for me.” He waved a hand and you turned to see Eddie a few paces away. The light from the Christmas tree was behind him, making his curls and waves nearly glow. His dark eyes darted down to the jumble of tapes in your hands and then he looked back up at you.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“‘Course we can, Amadeus.” Gently, he took your hand and pulled you into the living room. A handful of presents were under the tree and two stockings were hung over the roaring fireplace. Wayne, bless him, shut the door quietly and made himself scarce.

You sat on the edge of an overstuffed leather couch and Eddie settled beside you. One by one, he took the tapes out of your grip and set them on the cushion beside you before reaching out to curl one of his hands over yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles softly, the simple touch making you shiver.

“Eddie, I…” You shook your head. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, ever. I-I just-”

His gentle grip tightened a fraction. “I think we both have been a little less than stellar at this.”

You laughed, a low raspy thing. Your other hand folded over his and you tried to keep your heart from lodging itself in your throat. “Did you mean all of it? All that stuff you sang?” Eddie moved a little closer on the couch and his knee knocked into yours. “Every word.”

“It’s been over ten years, Eddie,” you whispered, not moving your gaze away from his face. His dark eyes reflected the lights on the tree and you almost wanted to cry again. He’d always been so handsome.

Eddie raised your joined hands to press a kiss to your fingers and your poor heart hammered behind your ribs. “It’s always been you, Amadeus. It will always be you.”

You sniffled and winced but didn’t pull away. “God, I’ve cried too much today.”

Eddie, gentle as ever, dropped your hands to grasp your face and wipe your tears away. “I’ve never wanted to make you cry.”

You shook your head and sighed. “And I never wanted to hurt you, either. Those songs…god, all those songs, Eddie. They were beautiful.”

“Not your pop nonsense,” he teased, thumbs smoothing against the half-moons of skin beneath your eye. “But you like them?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I really did.” You paused, licking your lips. Now or never. And you didn’t want to wait another ten years. “I love you Eddie.”

He chuckled, low and soft and your heart jumped. “I know, Amadeus. You told me in the closet.”

A terrible, familiar heat burned at your throat and you went to pull away but Eddie’s grip tightened just enough to keep you still. “Eddie-”

“And I have loved you since you sat next to me in history class, humming that awful song. And I will write you another six hundred songs if it meant you finally believe me.”

He loved you.

He loved you.

He had always loved you.

“We certainly wasted enough time, didn’t we?”

He smiled and it’s as bright as the lights on the tree, near blinding. Heart stopping. Perfect. Then, slowly, he leaned and brushed his lips against yours. Finally, finally, finally. He tasted like peppermint chocolates and smoke. And it was fucking perfect.

**1997**

It was snowing again. The weatherman said to expect another six inches before dawn and for the roads to be a nightmare for a few hours, too, before the plows were able to clear everything up. But you didn’t mind. You adjusted the star atop your Christmas tree right before a familiar pair of arms looped around your waist. Lips skimmed up the back of your neck until you were giggling and squirming in his grip.

“We’re gonna be snowed in, sweetheart. Just you and me for days. Maybe even a week.”

You swatted at his hand with a laugh, loosening his hold just enough for you to turn around and sponge a kiss to his jaw with a hum. “Nice try, big shot. There’s no getting out of Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding tomorrow. It’s just up the street. We can walk.”

Eddie groaned, melodramatic, and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Remind me why we have to go?”

“I am a bridesmaid and you are a groomsman. There’s also going to be lots of fancy food and all of our favorite people are already in town and will be there, too. You promised Nancy that you’d keep Dustin in check. You know how he gets about weddings.”

He sighed and you bit back a smile, knowing he was teasing. “I’m not convinced.”

So, you leaned closer and pressed another kiss against his jaw, and then another and another until you made your way up to his lips and steal a kiss there, too. Eddie chased your mouth to kiss you again, smiling against your lips. “And, my bridesmaid dress is really fucking sexy. If you’re good-”

“I’m always good,” he whined, halfheartedly pinching at your side just to make you squeak.

“-I’ll let you peel me out of it as soon as Nancy and Jonathan leave the reception. Deal?” You squealed as Eddie suddenly dove for your neck, kissing at the scar over your pulse. You sagged in his grip and moved to kiss the matching scar on his neck, too. It was a strange routine you’d settled into by accident. A gentle reminder of what you’d come through. Together.

“But what about tonight?” He whispered into your cheek, the beginnings of a smile pressing into your skin.

“Well, tonight…” You started to tug him away from the tree with a smile and toward your shared bedroom down the hall.

(Eddie’s plan worked. You hadn’t spotted the small box he’d hidden in the branches of the Christmas tree. He’d waited over ten years to finally call you his. He could wait a few days more.)

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[ash5monster01]

Perfect To Love Part 8

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, angst, trust issues.

Summary: Beth Walker was used to living in the shadows. She had only one friend and anyone else who paid her mind usually bullied her for her size. So she learned to keep her mouth shut, her head down, and her heart closed because she had to accept the fact that she would be nothing more than the fat girl to people. That is until Robin decides Beth needs more in life and that might just include a boy who she never would’ve thought could see her for who she truly was.

word count: 2,286

Part 7 ←→ Part 9

Masterlist

Beth wasn’t actively avoiding Steve. In a sense she was but not truly. She was still embarrassed about that night and not being home every time he called just happened to be coincidence. She wasn’t sure she was even ready to be honest with Steve about everything yet. He was used to confident girls and if he knew that she was so distant because of insecurities he’d never want to date her again. So she busied herself with school, marching band, and all the homework in the world. Which of course included more than just her own.

“I’m not doing the entire project this time Eddie” Beth shook her head as she walked out of last period, the super senior following her.

“Beth please, just this once” Eddie had been assigned as her partner in english. He didn’t like homework, and this was not the first time.

“Eddie, this is like the 30th time you’ve done this. What could be so important that you can’t read three chapters of The Great Gatsby and write an essay about it?” Beth questioned as she stopped at her locker to grab what she needed for homework that night.

“I have a huge campaign coming up in Hellfire and it needs my undivided attention” Beth snickered lightly as she heard this, she knew Steve’s boys were in Hellfire. More than likely their favorite thing about high school so far. Even though Eddie seemed like the furthest thing from those sweet Freshman boys it was cute thinking of them all playing games together.

“Look Eddie, I know those boys worship you. Especially Dustin who I happen to adore, actually I adore them all. So you can have this excuse but I need an hour of your time. You pick when and we’ll do it together. Sound like a plan?” Beth said, giving him a pointed look and Eddie sighed. It was better than nothing, and in all honesty he was thankful for Beth. She was the sole reason he actually hadn’t been flunking english for once. Maybe this would be his year. 86 would be here before he knew it.

“Fine, deal” Eddie put his hand in her own and Beth smiled before shutting her locker.

“It’ll be painless Munson. I promise” she told him and he nodded, shoving the sleeves to his shirt up, flashing some of his tattoos.

“Let me walk you to your car, who knows where Matterson could be hiding” Beth went to shake her head and inform him he had been leaving her alone but decided against it. It couldn’t hurt, it’s not like the harassment had stopped completely, and most people were scared of Eddie for being different. In a sense they were an unlikely pair and that was why she was comfortable around him.

“Thank you” she said instead and he nodded as they exited the building and approached the parking lot where the autumn sun reflected off the windshields of every car.

“What the fuck is Harrington doing by your car?” Beth looked up to see the boy clad in his tight jeans, a green sweater hung loosely over his shoulders, long legs leaning over the hood of her car. His lopsided smile once he spotted her was enough to make her melt.

“It’s okay, he’s safe, promise” Beth smiled at him but Eddie still had his guard up as they made the rest of the way there.

“Hey sweet girl” Steve smiled, eyes softening towards her. Beth gave him a small smile as he pushed some hair away from her face, missing her after the past week.

“Thanks for walking me Eddie” Beth turned to the raven haired boy and Eddie nodded, realizing Beth was somehow a thing with Steve The Hair Harrington.

“Anytime” he told them before walking away to give the pair some privacy. Now alone with the boy Beth began to get nervous under his stare, knowing she had avoided him for far too long.

“Hey Steve” she grinned up at him and his heart went at ease seeing she was still comfortable with him. “What’re you doing here?”

“I missed you, figured I’d stop by and see you after school” his hands settled on her shoulders, rubbing down her arms in a comforting way. He wanted to pull her towards him, hold her close.

“It’s good to see you, I’ve been flaky, I know” Beth told him, dropping her head to hide how ashamed she was.

“Hey that’s okay, take all the time you need. I’ll leave right now if you want” Steve told her, his finger lifting her chin to look up at him. When he saw the smile on her face he chuckled.

“I don’t want you to leave Steve” she told him and he smiled, ignoring his previous attempt of keeping her at a distance. He pulled her close, arms wrapping around her as he hugged her while still sitting on the hood of her car.

“What do you want to do then B?” he asked into her hair, noting how she always smelled like roses and strawberries. Beth’s stomach erupted with butterflies as his lips moved against her head.

“Go to our spot?” she asked, pulling away just slightly to look him in his eyes. She knew there were onlookers watching them. Confused why Steve was with Beth of all people. This time she wanted them to look though, to be jealous. To know she deserved it.

“Absolutely” he told her and she nodded her head at her car to indicate she would drive. Once both in she had the windows down and Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac blaring on the radio. Steve grinned as her hair whipped around her face and she cruised down the back roads. They were now surrounded by fallen orange and yellow leaves as they headed towards their designated spot at Lovers Lake.

After a short scolding about being careful the pair found themselves laid across the hood of Beth’s car, listening to the wind blow the water, and shake fallen leaves from the trees. Beth loved Fall more than any other season, the weather cool but just warm enough to be comfortable, baggie hoodies to hide herself in, and Halloween. There was just so much to love about this time of year. Yet she was broken from her thoughts as Steve’s hand found her own.

“Did I screw up our date?” he whispered into the air and Beth turned to look at him, shock painting her features.

“No Steve, no. I messed up our date, not you” she assured him, hand squeezing his own and he finally turned to look at her, hair splayed across her windshield.

“Just, I thought it was going really well and you froze up” he told her and Beth sighed, eyes dropping to glance at the lips she almost kissed before turning back up to the leaves in the trees.

“I panicked” she whispered, letting the Fall wind carry her confession towards the lake.

“Why? I thought we were in a comfortable spot” Steve questioned, rolling on his side to face her better but Beth still didn’t look at him.

“We were, we are. I just-. I don’t know Steve. It’s just a lot for me” Beth started to explain, unsure where to even really start.

“I like you Beth, like a lot. I want you to be comfortable with me. What do I need to do to convince you of that?” he asked, hands reaching out to push away some fallen hairs on her face.

“I need you to remember” she told him, lips quivering as she allowed the terrible memory to return. A day she wished she could completely erase, a day that haunts her and he doesn’t even remember.

“Remember? Remember what?” he asked and Beth let out a nervous chuckle even though none of this conversation actually amused her.

“We didn’t just meet Steve. You knew me in high school, or at least knew of me. I can’t trust you when I know deep down that guy, the guy that hurt me is still in there somewhere, and hasn’t even apologized” Beth told him, a rogue tear falling down her face. Steve went to brush it away but she beat him to it.

“Beth I’m sorry, I will apologize right now. I swear I regret it-” but Beth was shaking her head, sighing as she looked at him, eyes glossy with tears.

“It doesn’t count Steve unless you really really remember. I don’t doubt you regret it. You’re a good man now, but I met you when you were different and I need that version of you to recognize what he did wrong” she told him, fighting with herself over loving and hating him all at the same time.

“That’s why you couldn’t kiss me?” he asked and Beth nodded, free hand rubbing at her eyes.

“I can’t kiss you unless I feel your true intentions behind it. A part of me will always have my guard up with you, think you’re going to hurt me, and that wall I’ve built won’t go away until that part of me is healed” Beth said, all her feelings somehow making sense. It wasn’t just about him thinking she was fat, it was about her always feeling like the one version him will look at her and see her for only that, and nothing else.

“God Beth I wish I remembered. I pushed so much of that out because of guilt. I promise I regret every second of it” but that wasn’t good enough. Beth allowed to boy to hug her, nuzzling her face in his sweater. Allowing the boy who hurt her to comfort her.

“I know you do, I wish I could change it for the both of us. Just sleep on it okay, I hate remembering that day too. I’d trade places with you if I could” she told him and Steve felt his heart break. He always knew in some way his past would come and haunt him but he had never expected it to be like this. Something he couldn’t remember at all but clearly meant everything to someone he now cared for.

“I’m gonna remember B, I promise. I’ll do it for us” he told her and she smiled as she stayed snuggled against Steves chest. The last place on earth she ever expected to be.

“I’m counting on it” she told him and he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her hair while rubbing a hand down her back.

“Can I see you this weekend?” he found himself asking and Beth smiled, head tipping up to look at him.

“Of course Steve, we can go to the football game tomorrow night?” Beth told him, always wanting to attend one but being too scared because of all the bullying. She had only ever been to Homecoming games, shoved in a Marching Band Uniform, and forced to play during half time.

“Yeah, we can ask the group to go too” he told her, a soft smile on his face now that he knew he could still spend time with her even though they had to pause on their romantic relationship.

“Yeah, can we invite Nancy too?” Steve hadn’t expected the mention of his ex-girlfriend and Beth could see it on his face. “We’re kinda friends and I think she’s lonely with Johnathon in California”

“Yeah, of course we can invite her” Steve told her, not realizing Beth even really knew the girl. Beth left out the part of feeling bad that Nancy no longer had a best friend to spend time with either. A best friend that she reminded Nancy of.

“Maybe I’ll invite Eddie too” Beth muttered, head now turned to watch the water as she cuddled with the boy in the hood of her car. Jealously bubbled in Steves stomach just like it did when he saw her approach with him. Dustin had been going on and on about the Munson boy too. Before he knew it Eddie was going to steal all his favorite people.

“How do you two know each other?” Steve found himself asking, tone accusatory unintentionally. Beth grinned as she recognized the jealousy in his voice.

“Oh, we’ve been on a few dates” Steves eyes widened and Beth began giggling instantly, unable to follow through with her lie. “I’m kidding Steve. We’re english partners and I help him with his homework sometimes”

“Okay, good” Beth snickered at the response but accepted it anyway. She had never had anyone be jealous for her before. It was a nice feeling, it made her feel like a normal teenage girl. Something she always wanted. She wished she could kiss him for it. Maybe soon enough she could.

“Alright hot shot, we better get back to town. I have homework to do” Steve groaned but allowed her to leave his arms anyway, sliding down the hood of her car.

“Can I come?” he asked but she just laughed and shook her head as she climbed inside the car.

“No because I need to focus” she told him and he grinned, his normal cockiness returning.

“So you’re admitting I’m a distraction?” the sentence held heavy innuendos behind it but she just rolled her eyes and shifted the car into reverse.

“That’s because you are” she said now cruising back down the road the way they came and he smirked, arms crossing over his chest.

“As long as it’s the good kind of distraction” he said, eyebrows wiggling her way and she couldn’t help but laugh, happy that he was somehow now apart of her life. Something she never could’ve guessed.

“The best kind of distraction”

Taglist: @kindablackenedsuperhero @rinarecommends @starryeyedpoet17 @crustless-toast @loverofmarsss @alexa-33 @bethanysnow @middle-of-the-earth @princessadriana4-blog @mochminnie @legendaryhumandiplomatgoop @a-lil-bit-nuts @i-came-as-bostonian @krazyk99 @thunderstomp-and-tequila

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[i-spaced-sorry]

Coffee and Comfort Summary: Reader works at a coffee shop and one morning is rough enough that she gets sent home not even 2hrs into her shift. Jay comes home and comforts her.

Waking up for your 8am shift at the coffee shop felt more like waking up for a 6:30 am shift at the coffee shop. You were tired and slow in your movements. You sat down in front of your mirror closet doors like you did every morning out of habit. Quickly changing into your work clothes, you gave yourself a quick pep talk while simultaneously trying to both convince yourself to go into work and at the same time convince yourself to call the manager on duty phone and call off. Opting for the route of needing to pick up your tips, so you had date night money for your date with Jay that weekend, you got up off the floor, zipped up your docs and walked out the door. 

To say you should have called out of work, is an understatement, walking onto the floor and taking a tiny glance to the duty roster, you noticed it looked like every employee under the sun was scheduled for the day. Meaning there would be too many employees and not enough positions or tasks. But alas, you tied your apron and asked, “Where do you want me” to your shift manager. 

“Start on register��� she replied and you dutifully went over to the register and signed in. Taking a look at the long line forming outside the shop, you sucked in a breath, thought ‘I need the money’ and waited for the door to be unlocked. 

The chaos didn’t take long to become overwhelming. On top of every employee scheduled, all the new fresh out of training employees were also on the floor. 

“We are out of chocolate croissants” your coworker Amari called out from the food section. 

“Hi, can I get a -” started a customer, “ - 86 the sausage breakfast sandwiches” called out Amari. 

“A iced vanilla latte” concluded the customer. 

“For su-” you began, “we have chocolate croissants again”

“For sure, what size”

“Medium” “you have 2 almond left, and 1 classic left” 

“Hey, I’m looking for Kylie, is she still here?” asked the senior manager in charge. 

“I don’t know” called your shift manager Riley. 

“Ooh, what are we going to get?” asked an overly excited customer to her friends while they waited in line. 

Was the music getting louder? Why can I hear every conversation but can’t finish a single conversation? 

“Your total will be 14.99” you choked out while blinking back tears and hopping the customer in front of you doesn’t see you failing to keep tears at bay. 

“Hi can I -” started the next customer who walked up. 

“I’m so sorry, just give me one second” you choked out, before turning to face Riley. 

“Can I go to the back real fast?” you asked. 

After getting the go ahead, you quickly walked into the back and pulled your neckline of your shirt to your eyes and began crying. And before you could stop it you found yourself hyperventilating. “No, No, No” you audibly exclaimed while trying to get your breathing in check while you started shaking. 

After a few minutes you had staved off the dreaded panic attack but you found yourself panicky, shakey, and on the verge of more tears. But alas, you wiped your eyes with your shirt, took a breath and walked back out on the floor. 

“I’m back” you said as you walked back on the floor, “thanks I needed a moment” you added. 

Riley took one look at you and could immediately tell you weren’t doing good. “Are you okay?” she asked. Normally you would lie and say you were fine, but you really didn’t want to be there anymore, so you actually said you weren’t. 

Next thing you knew you were talking to the senior manager and then being told to go home and take care of yourself. You didn’t need to be told twice. 

Walking into your apartment, you sighed, changed your clothes, and lept into bed and under the covers. 

“Y/N?” called out Jay an hour later. 

Noticing your bag on the floor, he walked towards your room. Opening the door, he noticed your shoes discarded to the side and could hear soft snoring. Gently shaking you Jay called your name until you rolled over and looked at him, “What?” you asked groggily. 

“Why are you home? I thought you worked til 4:30”

“Had a rough morning, got sent home” was all you muttered while cuddling close to your boyfriend. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked while shuffling himself to make himself more comfortable on your bed and allowing you to get comfortable curled up next to him. 

“I was just overwhelmed and staved off a panic attack and it was too many people talking over one another, I’m good at my job, I’ve been in food service since I was 15, but today I felt like I was a newbie because I could never finish a single sentence without being interrupted and neither could a customer. It was like if I listened to a customer and drowned out the person on food, then I’d hear what the customer wanted but would miss out on important food items we were out of or running low on. And if I drowned out the customer and listened to what was being said on food, then I felt like an ass having to ask the customer to repeat themself or me guessing what they wanted based off of the limited words I heard them say and if I guessed wrong, which happened a lot, then I look like a ditz who can’t do their job! And I can do my job! I’m damn good at my job!” you cried. 

Jay just held you while you let out your frustrations, “I know, I’m sorry it was overwhelming!”

You cried til you couldn’t cry anymore and you looked up at Jay and sighed, “I’m sorry, I know we were going to hang out tonight and this weekend, but I just have so much anxiety and really don’t want to do anything at least tonight, maybe this weekend we can do something” 

Hugging you close to him, he bent down and kissed your head, “never apologize. You are always so quick to help me after a tough case, the least I could do is return the favor. When Kim and Roman responded to a call at your work and they noticed you weren’t there, when they got back to the district they told me and I knew something was wrong, you never willingly leave work early.” 

“That’s why you knew to come here, I was starting to wonder how you knew I was home. Since normally you come over after I get home.” 

He shrugged and smiled, “now, let’s say you get dressed in comfy clothes, then I’ll take you to your favorite coffee spot for some ice tea and then we’ll come back here and watch all the trash tv shows you want. How does that sound?” 

Smiling, you replied, “Can we watch As The World Turns?” referring to the Soap opera that ran from ‘56 to 2010.

“Anything for you” Jay smirked. 

[writersgarden]

swimming lessons | e.m

summary - reader teaches eddie how to swim (5k)

no tws! please note, this is fem!reader x eddie but there are physical descriptions. (i find it very difficult to write without physical descriptions, that is why this is originally eddie x oc but altered for more people to enjoy!)

author’s notes - it’s been a year since i posted my writing online and even longer since i finished anything. i’m trying very hard to get back into writing because i completely lost any ability to for a long while because of how busy my life had gotten. my life has finally finally calmed down again so i can pour more time and energy into growing as a writer! i cross-post on ao3 as @fleursamour where i write eddie x oc. that said, hope you enjoy! 

The summer of ’86 had broken the heat record and there were still four weeks of summer vacation left. The Starcourt Mall’s remains still stood in the middle of the town but people were too hot to care for it which was a small victory in the grand scheme of things. The less people asked questions, the less Y/N felt the need to look over her shoulder and expect angry Russians to point a gun at her. 

Instead, Y/N waded through the mass of people heading to the swimming pool, dodging children in their bright bathing suits and matching floaties and impatient moms who just wanted to lay by the side of the pool and read their over-the-counter romance novels while their children tried to drown each other in the water. 

Little drops of sweat formed at the base of her neck and rolled down as she moved against the crowd, heading in the opposite direction. She licked her dry lips and walked a little faster until finally: air. 

Y/N sighed as she sucked in some fresh air, the chattering and loud laughter moving away and away until they finally faded into nothing. 

Dressed in her classic red bathing suit with white rims and jeans-shorts, Y/N walked until the granite streets turned into the uneven ground of the forest. Y/N clung to her duffle bag as she moved, bypassing a fallen tree trunk, until she finally reached the trailer park which held the trailer of one Eddie Munson. 

Perhaps their friendship was an unconventional one. Y/N was a cheerleader, head cheerleader to be exact, and Eddie… Eddie was called ‘The Freak’ on a good day, never mind the bad days. A Dungeon Master with a passion for playing the guitar and a rock-and-roll style having a friendship with a preppy cheerleader from the suburbs who spent her days reading and writing stories about people falling in love? It was unheard of. 

And yet…

And yet, they bonded very quickly after being assigned a project in History, a subject Y/N was exceptionally good at. They worked together for six long weeks; dividing their time between the Wheeler house and Eddie’s trailer and ended up with the highest grade in their class, though Y/N figured they would’ve still become close friends if it wasn’t for the grade. Between sticky fingers from glueing their cardboard presentation board and long breaks sitting on the porch or in the grass just talking, Y/N and Eddie realised they were two creative minds who simply worked together. 

Once the project was done, Y/N broke the news to Mike that yes, she might have stolen his new idol as her friend, and joined the D&D club, though not fully. Y/N still wasn’t keen on playing D&D, the long hours of it making her feel antsy, but she worked together with Eddie to compose great stories for the boys to act out and Eddie made a pink Hellfire shirt, just for her.  

They still talked, about everything and nothing. Y/N didn’t quite understand why but everything felt easy between them. Eddie was the one person she could tell everything to without fearing he would judge her because he was Eddie and Eddie was kind and understood.

And now she was standing in front of his trailer, hand raised to knock on the metal door. Y/N only had to worry for a second about burning her fingers when the door swung open and strong arms wrapped around her body.

Eddie lifted her clean off the ground, swinging her around like a rag-doll. For a nerd, Eddie was strong. Y/N would’ve never expected it but it only took a glance at Eddie’s rolled-up sleeves which revealed his veined forearms and that one time he wore a T-shirt while sitting next to her in her mom’s canopy, drinking overly sweet iced tea as they poured over the next campaign for Y/N to know he could snap her like a twig.

“Good morning to you too, Eds,” Y/N laughed softly, wrapping her own arms around his neck as she squeezed her eyes shut. He smelled of cheap cologne and weed, a scent that had become so familiar to her that she dreamt of it sometimes. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone but her diary.

Eddie pulled back a little to look at Y/N with twinkling brown eyes and a sweet smile. “Hey there! Fancy meeting you here, doll.”

“Ready for our swimming lessons?”

Y/N could tell from the look on Eddie’s face that he was most definitely not. For a guy who always tried to play it cool and distract people with his humour, his eyes spoke words his lips never would. Y/N read him easily, perhaps too easily. When did they get this familiar with each other?

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” Y/N added, her voice honeyed as she rubbed a hand over Eddie’s bicep. He was still holding on to her, feet dangling uselessly above the ground. “I won’t let you drown.”

Eddie set Y/N down and stepped back, looking over her body slowly, from her wiggling toes in her white sneakers, to the miles of olive skin that stretched over her legs, to her tight jean-shorts and even tighter bathing suit, up to her face, and then back again. “You are going to rescue me if I go under?” Eddie dramatically sunk to his knees and sprawled on his back, head lolling to the side. “I’ll be dead in a minute.”

“Prick!” Y/N exclaimed with a laugh and dropped next to Eddie, holding her hands above his heart. “I could drag you back to land if it was a dire situation like drowning. You know how people have those strength-spells because of adrenaline?” Y/N smirked then, pushing against Eddie’s chest once where his heart resided, still beating as strongly as ever. “Besides, I know CPR.”

“CPR comes with more than just getting my heart working,” Eddie teased, pursing his lips. “Do y’know how to do this too, princess?”

Y/N pushed Eddie’s face away with a scoff. “Matter of fact, I do! But if you were really in need of air, you wouldn’t make kissy faces like that.”

Eddie suddenly lunged for Y/N and turned them around which was followed by an undignified squeal from Y/N and a loud laugh from Eddie who now hung above her with a sly smirk on his lips. The shadow he cast over Y/N protected her from the sun and gave her some much-needed cooling down which was promptly heated up again by Eddie lowering himself until he was only a hair away from lying down on her fully, his forearm coming to rest next to her head, his other arm holding her hip.

His touch was searing hot and it took Y/N everything not to blush.

It didn’t work.

But, if Eddie were to ask after the blush, she would lie and say it came from the sun. Y/N did always strategically burn along her nose and over the sides of her cheeks.

“What would I need to do then to get mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?” Eddie asked innocently, squeezing Y/N’s hip with his ring-clad fingers. His hand was big on her frame and Y/N was a little too aware of it. 

“Drown,” Y/N deadpanned.

Eddie tilted his head before nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay?!”

If people hadn’t been awake already, Y/N’s screech would’ve woken the entire trailer park.

Eddie let out a short laugh and leaned closer until Y/N was struggling to breathe. “Yes, doll. Okay. If that’s what it takes, I’ll drown.”

Y/N mentally noted down this entire conversation to use later in her still-unfinished romance novel. It wouldn’t be the first time Y/N had taken an example from her real-life conversations with Eddie to use for her stories. Eddie was just a walking romance novel hero, she couldn’t help that either.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Hey, kids!”

Eddie quickly rolled off Y/N and helped her up, just in time for his uncle Wayne to open the door to their trailer and peer down at them knowingly. “Thought you were headin’ to the lake?”

“We were, Uncle, just got held up.” Eddie wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Y/N here was distracting me but we’ll be on our way now.”

Eddie threw a wink Y/N’s way which was met with yet another one of her blushes. Y/N tried to blame being on the shyer side for her scarlet cheeks, or even just Eddie being a menace to society and the entire female population but she secretly knew there was more to it. And yet, the admittance of something like being in love with your best friend was more than Y/N could handle, even if it was only to herself.

So, she pushed Eddie’s arm off which found its way around her waist instead and avoided Uncle Wayne’s eyes.

“Let’s go then,” Eddie grinned wolfishly, steering Y/N away from the trailer and Uncle Wayne and towards the lake which laid only a few minutes walk away. “The faster we get there, the sooner you save my life.”

“Wasn’t funny the first time, isn’t funny now.”

Y/N held a very real fear that Eddie was actually going to drown and there was nothing she could do. Eddie stood at a whopping 5 feet 10 which towered at least 7 inches above her. He wasn’t scrawny either, if the twirls from before were anything to go by, and Y/N realised that if Eddie went under, there wasn’t much she could do.

Eddie, noticing Y/N’s stiff posture and restless hands, squeezed her hip sweetly. “Not gonna drown on you, sweetness. I wouldn’t do that to you. I know you worry too much.”

“I worry just the right amount, thank you very much,” Y/N replied with an edge to her voice before she softened. “Don’t wanna lose you, Eds.”

The hand around her waist moved up until Eddie reached the underside of her breast. Y/N held her breath. It, thankfully and sadly, moved up her arm instead and towards her head where Eddie’s big hand laid, covering a big part of her ear, and pulled her in. Y/N’s head came to lay against his broad chest, her arms fitting nicely around his waist and though them walking like this was quite uncomfortable, Y/N relished in the closeness of their bodies.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Eddie promised. His hand brushed through her hair and Y/N prayed he wouldn’t see the goosebumps he ignited from his mere touch alone. “You’re stuck with me, doll. Get used to it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Through the trees, the glittering of water became more and more visible until there was nothing obstructing their view of the lake stretching out over the horizon, gentle waves rippling. Evergreen trees stood at the sides, stretching up to the sky. Y/N took a deep breath and inhaled the gentle scent of salt and earth. 

“We need more sunblock,” she mumbled, reaching for the bottle in her duffle bag. She promptly ignored Eddie’s small huff ‘Of course, she brought goddamn sunblock’ and turned to him with the white cream coating her palm. “Come ‘ere.”

“Nope, not gonna happen,” Eddie grumbled, stumbling back a few steps with his hands outstretched. “I’m too metal for sunblock.”

“You’d rather risk walking around like a lobster?” Y/N asked, her eyebrow raised inquisitively. “It’s not very metal to waddle around, shithead.”

Eddie considered her for a moment and, with another grumble, tore off his shirt and…

Oh.

The sight before her was a work of art: muscles rippling over pale skin, a few scattered moles that made up a constellation she longed to trace with the tip of her forefinger. Eddie approached her as Y/N focused on his tattoos, wondering how many more he would get and if there would ever be one for her. Tuffs of chest hair moved tantalisingly down, disappearing underneath his swimming shorts and Y/N had to look away.

Eddie bent down then until they were on eye level, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll only wear sunblock if it’s you putting it on.”

Did he flirt with her just to embarrass her or was there more behind his words? Y/N couldn’t figure it out. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t acted on anything so far even though she definitely had opportunities to.

“Fine, you big baby,” Y/N managed to utter, saving herself from complete embarrassment. Bless her brain for letting her come up with something in response and play it semi-cool. Though, Eddie’s intense gaze that wouldn’t leave her made Y/N wonder if he had easily read her and just let her off the hook this time. 

Y/N couldn’t think about it too much and decided to be grateful for small miracles instead. 

Y/N stepped forward, her hands slick with sunblock, and hesitantly laid them upon Eddie's warm shoulders. His feverish gaze made her heart skip a beat, but she focused on rubbing the lotion into his skin - starting with his shoulders and working her way down his arms. She had to pour more sunblock on her hands to cover his chest too. Her hands moved quicker and quicker the more she went down. Y/N didn’t dare to get close to his swimming shorts so she made him turn around instead, ignoring his comment about him getting a sunburn on the lower half of his abdomen. 

His back had tattoos Y/N hadn’t seen before. She traced the large dragon that spanned most of his spine and its wings that moved with his shoulder muscles reverently. “It’s beautiful, Eds.”

“Thank you,” he answered. Something in his voice sounded as though he had wanted to say something else.

Y/N finished with Eddie’s face, covering it with the cream in gentle strokes. Her hand lingered on his cheek ever so briefly but the intensity of Eddie’s gaze made her move further up to his forehead which she had to reach by standing on her tippy toes and sweetly moving his hair out of the way.

Eddie wrapped a steady arm around her waist when she almost fell from her tippy toes which pushed them chest to chest. Y/N wondered if he could feel her curves against him but if he did, Eddie didn’t say anything.

With gentle strokes, Y/N finished applying cream to Eddie's face, her hand lingering on his cheek ever so briefly before the intensity of his gaze urged her to move on. Standing on her tippy toes, she sweetly moved his hair out of the way to reach his forehead.

When Y/N lost her balance, Eddie wrapped a steady arm around her waist, pulling her close. Their bodies pressed together, chest to chest. She wondered if Eddie could feel her curves against him, but if he did, he didn’t mention it.

Once Eddie was covered in sunblock, Eddie turned to Y/N and nodded at her shorts. “Don’t you need sunblock as well?”

“Oh… Yeah, you’re right.” Y/N bit her lip and wiggled out of her shorts, pretending she didn’t see Eddie staring at her, a flush on his face Y/N blamed the sun for. “I can do it myself, though. Because I’m not a big, pouty baby.”

“Allow me to help you anyways, princess?” Eddie replied, ignoring her big baby comment which made the air feel thicker around them.

Eddie even bowed before her like she was truly a princess and he, her loyal servant. 

It took Y/N two swallows to answer.

“Okay.”

It came out strained, barely audible, but Eddie immediately sunk to his knees before her as though she had shouted it from the rooftops and Y/N had trouble not imagining him doing this in different situations. Then Eddie dared to look up at her from beneath those long eyelashes and Y/N genuinely thought she had a sunstroke with how woozy she felt. 

“Sunblock?”

“What?” Y/N answered dumbly, not able to look away from the way Eddie blinked up at her, brown eyes sparkling warmly in the sun. He licked his lips and then grinned, shaking his head.

“The sunblock, Y/N.” Eddie stuck out his hand. “I’m good with touching you without, but I don’t think you would allow me.”

You truly have no idea, do you?

“Shit, yeah, sorry,” Y/N chuckled nervously and nearly dropped the sunblock as she fumbled to get it out of her duffle bag once more, laying it in Eddie’s hand who uncapped the bottle, squirted the cream into his hands and then they were on her leg.

From her ankle, up her calve and to her thigh which easily fit between his hands. He didn’t just rub the sunblock in but kneaded which made Y/N jerk every time, ignoring the tension in her lower tummy, the warmth that coursed through her body.

Eddie’s hands were wanderers, seemingly tracking along her body as though they would find something new if they only searched well enough. Y/N would have thought this was Eddie’s first time touching a girl if she didn’t know better.

 His hands moved up her hips, over the dips of her waist and up again to her ribs. With the bodysuit Y/N was wearing, she could only feel fabric, but to her, it almost felt as though he was rubbing over bare skin and Y/N was on fire.

Finally, he moved up her arms, to her shoulders and oh so gently shifted to her collarbones, massaging her. Y/N let out an involuntary sigh and closed her eyes, allowing her to enjoy his touches for this moment and this moment alone. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself, what if she fell even harder and there was no turning back?

Eddie rubbed the cream into her neck with such gentle moves, such precision, Y/N wondered if he thought of her as delicate. Eddie was all dramatic falls and hard hits on the D&D board and excited screams and running and climbing and yet he was touching her as if one too-hard touch would shatter her in his hands. Y/N liked it, liked feeling fragile and breakable, liked that Eddie showed her more care than anyone ever had. 

His hands came to lay over her cheeks and Y/N finally blinked her eyes open again. She hadn’t even noticed Eddie had moved this close but there he was, towering above her once more. If she moved her face upwards their noses would brush with the way he was bent down slightly. Y/N felt the great urge to and for a moment, Y/N wondered if Eddie was coming closer, leaning in or if it was just her imagination. 

And then the warm touches were gone and Y/N suddenly felt cold despite the blistering heat bearing down on her. Eddie had taken a few steps back, throwing the sunblock in the grass.

“Ready to go then?” Eddie asked, his face crumpling in confusion when Y/N held up her hand as a ‘wait, please’ signal. With trembling fingers, Y/N took out a portable radio, suddenly feeling stupid for bringing it. 

“Ehm… I just thought… Maybe you would feel a little better with music? I even checked the channels and there was one with like metal songs and rock and roll and stuff and it’s… It’s really stupid, I’m sorry. I just- I shouldn’t’ve…”

Eddie took two long strides and then he had her chin in his hand, tilting it up so Y/N was forced to look up at him. “You’re an angel and I don’t deserve you.” Eddie promptly leaned down and kissed her cheek.

The butterflies raged long after the radio was placed in the grass and they were standing at the edge of the water, Eddie’s hand a clamp around Y/N’s. 

“We’ll take it slow,” Y/N said soothingly, laying her free hand over Eddie’s. “We’re doing this at your pace.”

The sun made her skin prickle pleasantly, though her nose was already starting to burn despite the sunblock. The top of Y/N’s dark chocolate hair felt hot, almost unbearably so, but the sweet relief of the lake laid before her and it wouldn’t be long before she was allowed to dunk her head under and cool off again.

Y/N threw Eddie a sideways glance. His hair was kept up with one of her scrunchies, one she would most likely never see again. Eddie looked unfairly good with his hair up. Maybe she could convince him to get some earrings… He would look-

Okay, no. 

Focus.

“Maybe we should sit on the side first?” Eddie croaked, his entire body shaking as he stared down at the water. Y/N immediately nodded and moved to sit down with Eddie who followed, oh so slowly. 

“Better?”

Eddie nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Better.”

“Remember what I said? Paddle with your legs to stay upright and to swim you move your arms and legs in circles. If you turn on your back you will float.”

His mouth moved as though he was repeating the words back to himself and then gave her an almost imperceptible nod. “I’m ready.”

Y/N grinned and held Eddie’s hand the entire way down. She would hold his hand through anything.

The shock of the cold water made Y/N freeze briefly, remembering to paddle her legs when her chin went under. 

“Hey!” Eddie exclaimed. “Don’t go drowning on me now, doll. I need you here.”

Y/N turned to Eddie and reached out with her other hand, laughing softly. “You’re doing so well, though! I don’t think you need me as much as you think you do.”

“Don’t think there will ever be a second I don’t need you,” Eddie mumbled back and squeezed her hands gently. 

With some fumbling and a few exclaims, Eddie was paddling like a pro and could even swim a circle around Y/N which made her cheer so loudly a few birds flew away with affronted caws. 

Eddie swam around her again, his hands gliding through the water with effortless grace. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how naked his hands looked without his rings, without the chains around his wrists. Vulnerability seeped through the cracks of his carefully crafted image. He was stripped bare before her, revealing not Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson or Eddie the Dungeon Master or even Eddie the Senior Year Repeater, but just Eddie Munson, the boy Y/N had fallen in love with.

It was a privilege to see him like this.

Had others?

Doubtfully.

Eddie got around, he really did, but when Y/N pictured Eddie in bed with other girls, bearing the sting of the thought, she couldn’t imagine him as exposed and raw as he was now. He always wore his rings and the chains around his wrists and the guitar pick around his neck. It was part of what made him attractive, to Y/N as well. But it wasn’t all that made him attractive. What made him attractive was his excited yells as he swam faster than he had before, without nearly going underwater this time. What made him attractive was the blinding smile he shot at Y/N, all boyish and broad. What made him attractive was the way he came up behind her and hooked his head over her shoulder. 

“You’re in your head again,” he noted, non-accusatory as always. “Come back to me, doll.”

“I’m here,” Y/N smiled and turned quickly, daring to wrap her arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “My legs are just tired, that’s all.”

It wasn’t even a lie. Now that she said it, her legs truly did feel heavy, her muscles aching from overuse.

Eddie looked down as though he could see the exhaustion in Y/N’s legs. He nodded once and placed his hands under her thighs, prompting her to hook her legs around his hips, holding her close as he paddled his legs just as Y/N taught him.

Y/N sighed gratefully and laid her cheek on his shoulder, breathing in the washed-out smell of that cheap cologne he always wore. It had been altered, smelled even more alcoholic now, but Y/N pushed in closer anyways. 

His skin was sun-warmed, a curl tickled her nose, and their bodies stuck together from the heat. 

Y/N had never felt happier than she did now.

“Comfy?” Eddie asked, his voice amused. Y/N could imagine his eyes twinkling as he said it.

“So comfy,” Y/N slurred, her eyes drooping. 

God, she could fall asleep like this. 

Eddie’s wet hand moved to the back of her head, holding her steady. “Go sleep, baby. I’ll keep you safe.”

Y/N nodded and fell asleep with a smile and a lasting thought: That was a new one.

The sun was setting when she woke up. Her back was marked with indents of the grass she had been laying on. Her body was already dry, save for her bathing suit which always took ages to dry up. Y/N yawned and turned, smiling at Eddie who was already looking at her — eyes squinted, nose scrunched adorably at the moving sun that shone in his eyes. 

“Good morning, princess,” Eddie greeted her, scooting closer until their arms brushed. Every hair on Y/N’s body stood on end, goosebumps rippling over her skin again. Eddie stopped pretending he didn’t see and traced the outline of them instead.

“You could’ve woken-“

Eddie shook his head, fingers dancing up and down her arm. “You were looking so peaceful.”

Eddie swallowed then and moved even closer. “You’re beautiful. Couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

The blush that had finally faded after hours of being under Eddie’s ministrations returned again. 

Eddie sighed and squeezed his eyes shut.

“You’ll kill me one day, doll. And it will be goddamn worth it.”

Y/N laughed nervously, shaking her head, droplets of water falling left behind by her shifting hair. “You can’t talk like that.”

“Why not?” Eddie moved impossibly closer, their noses brushing together.

“We’re friends.”

“Keep talking,” Eddie whispered, his hand moving up to lay over her cheek. 

Y/N couldn’t focus, not with the way Eddie was looking at her — as though he held the world in the palm of his hand. It was too great to bear.

“I refuse to be one of the girls you fuck then throw away.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “Shut up.”

“Wh-“

“Shut. Up. Y/N.”

And then he kissed her, deep, unhurried. His tongue brushed the roof of her mouth and the sound Y/N let out pushed him closer until he was rolling on top of her, one hand moving to brace the back of her head, the other enfolding her hip. His leg fitted perfectly between her own. 

Pulling back, Eddie moved his hand until he was cradling her cheek once more, swiping under her eye. “You’re not one of the girls ‘I fuck then throw away’,” Eddie said, enunciating the last part. “You would never be.”

“So what then,” Y/N asked, licking her lips and this time, Eddie looked down at her lips unabashedly. A complicated expression flickered on his face before it lit up as though he just remembered he could kiss her, he already had before. 

Eddie kissed her once, twice, a third time. 

“You’re everything,” Eddie whispered against her lips. “You’re my everything. I want you to be my- I mean… You already are my everything but I want you…” Eddie cleared his throat. “What I’m saying is, I want you to be mine. I want to be yours, if you'll let me.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Eddie’s neck and pulled him closer. Her leg hooked over his hip and nodded, lips slanting over Eddie in lieu of an answer. She understood what he meant and he understood what she meant without too many words.

“I didn’t even have to fake drowning,” Eddie said once he pulled back with wonder in his voice and stars in his eyes.

“Shut up, Eddie,” Y/N told him this time and kissed him again until he couldn’t breathe. She would show him a different kind of drowning, one all-consuming and way better than what the water could do for him.

That was the summer the infamous relationship between Y/N Y/L/N and Eddie Munson started. There would be many more summers after, but this one, the hottest summer of ’86, was by far the most memorable.