#Claire - this is all your fault - look what you made me do!!

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

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They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

[sissytobitch10seconds]

So I'm going to go on a little tangent here. I usually don't do the whole symbolism is the actual meaning thing because it doesn't make sense to me most times.

But I keep seeing the take that the ending of the Umbrella Academy is telling abused people that it's their fault and they have to die for the sin of being abused. I don't think this is what the show was telling us at all, if we're going down the route of things not being taken literally.

When Five goes to Max's diner and meets all the other Fives, they're distinguished by one word in front of their name, which implies that they're not really all that different from each other. Otherwise, they would have chosen other names for themselves. This is an important part of my theory for what the ending actually meant.

The timelines fractured when the marigold was released and created the forty three kids. I believe that because Marigold is such a strong element that literally warps the environment it belongs in (In the comics Allison created a giant John Wilks Booth to kill the Abraham Lincoln statue that had come to life, Klaus can basically raise the dead, Diego can warp space to make things turn and move, etc.) it also fractured the bodies that it inhabits. It created life inside of those women and thus it's not that far of a stretch to assume that each timeline has a part of the people it created instead of it being the standard timeline nonsense.

I mean, if it were the standard theory with timelines (i.e. the timeline is always divulging with each action or inaction that we perform) then Five wouldn't have said they needed to come together. We have always trusted Five when it comes to timeline stuff before, he was intelligent enough to have created the Commission after all.

So if the timelines hold a part of the forty-three, then they have to come together for all of the Marigold Holders to be whole. Their souls may exist in the singular timeline where the durango has consumed the marigold, but we don't know that for sure.

Thus, because each timeline represents a fraction of our beloved characters, the ending where they die is not actually telling them that they have to die because of their abuse. It's telling them (and us) that to recover from abuse and become a non-fractured person, you have to let the version of yourself that your abuser created become a part of you or die off. I know that I had to let go of the person that my abusive ex-girlfriend made so that I could feel more like my true self.

We see Lila and Diego's three kids, Claire, and Lila's parents playing in the park in the end-credits scene. Umbrella Academy isn't a stupid show, it already showed us what happened when kids without parents are born. So it implies that some form of at least Lila, Diego, and Allison exist in the final timeline.

Thus, the ending is not telling us that abused people have to die to stop causing pain or whatever the inane take is, it's telling us that to heal you have to come to terms with all the parts of yourself and let go of the bad behaviors that you exhibit. I could do a whole other post about how the Umbrellas aren't really full people, they're defense mechanisms walking around in people-suits. Our Umbrellas aren't gone, they're existing in a better form and without the pain that Reginald caused them which would fundamentally change them as people and make them unrecognizable to us.

The flower represent the abused part of them, the powers and the Academy and the end of the world and the Commission and Oblivion, that still exists but is so small in their healed selves that they don't even have to look at it if they don't want to.

[oizysian]

X. PUMPKIN

All Eyes on Me masterlist

Word count: 2.1k

AN: I’m so sorry I haven’t updated this on here lately. I’m gonna catch up with everything soon!

•

"I can't believe I just spent a whole day with Lizzie and Robbie."

"Robbie? That's her husband isn't it?" Claire questioned.

"Mhm."

"How were you able to keep your cool around Lizzie with Robbie there?"

"I just kinda ... zoned out a lot. He's really nice and he made an effort to get to know me, but I can't help but feel guilty when I'm around him."

"Why?"

"Because I'm in love with his wife!" I threw my hands up in frustration, my headset almost falling off my head with the sudden action.

"Y/N, listen," I held my breath as I waited for her to continue speaking. "Don't feel guilty. You can't help it if she likes you."

"Which she doesn't. Not like that."

"Says you. What did Brie say?"

I groaned, the memory of our kisses hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"She thinks she likes me." I mumbled. "But, she likes me too."

"She? She as in Brie?"

"Uh huh. We ... kinda ... kissed."

"You what?!"

"We were drunk and high and she was busting my balls about liking Lizzie so I kissed her to prove I wasn't in love with her."

"And did that work?"

"No."

She sighed and I began to feel even more guilty. Between Robbie and Brie, I was never gonna get any sleep at night.

"What a surprise." Sarcasm dripped from her words. "Why can't you just be honest with yourself - and your friends."

"I'm not being honest with Lizzie. She can't know I have feelings for her. It would make things weird."

"Don't you think she's smart enough to figure it out eventually?"

"I mean, yeah, probably, but by then I'm hoping I'll be over it."

"Doubtful, but good luck with that."

"Thanks so much. You're no damn help."

"Yes I am. You just don't like my advice."

"Okay. What's your advice?"

"Keep hanging out with Lizzie and try to see if she's interested - married or not." She stopped me before I could interject. "If she is, see where it goes. If not, then at least she's your friend."

"I was just gonna skip the first part and just stay friends with her."

"Go ahead and do that, then. But, you're gonna suffer not knowing if there could've been anything between you if you don't test the waters."

I was quiet for a moment, taking in her words and thinking hard about them. She was right, of course she was. But, the risk of losing Lizzie as a friend just to see if we could be more than that, which was nearly an impossibility anyway, outweighed any feelings I had for her. I didn't want to lose her in any capacity. I just had to stop liking her like that.

"I'll think about it. I just ... I really like her. As a friend, even. I don't want to lose her 'cos of some schoolgirl crush."

"You're definitely not crushing. The way you talk about her." She let out a dry chuckle. "You're absolutely in love."

"She doesn't even know me. She'd think I was insane if I told her I had feelings for her. We've only hung out three times."

"Once for like three days though."

"Two days."

"Okay, two days. So, that's a weekend. Plus all the constant texting."

I sighed, rubbing my eyes tiredly. This was the worst situation I had ever been in and it was all my own fault.

"Look," I started. "I know you mean well, but I'm just gonna stay friendly with her. If something happens, that's great! But, I won't be making the first move. Or any moves."

"Whatever you feel you should do, I'll support your decision."

"Thanks, bestie. I really appreciate you listening to all my griping."

"That's what I'm here for. Now get your head in the game. I'm tired of reviving you."

"Sorry." I laughed. "I just have a lot on my mind lately."

"I know."

She was interrupted by my phone going off, indicating that I got a text.

"Is it Lizzie?" She asked excitedly and I shrugged to myself.

"Not sure. I'm playing the game, not looking at my phone. Like you told me to."

"Oh my god, just look at your phone. I'm dying from the suspense."

I hid myself in a bush while I checked my phone. It was Lizzie.

"Well?" Claire asked with excitement in her voice.

"Lizzie wants to hang out before she heads back to LA for some business."

"And? Are you gonna see her?"

"Of course I am." I stared at the message for another moment before I felt my controller vibrate, signaling I was being shot at. "Shit."

I put my phone down and got myself back into the game. The intensity of the game provided silence, which gave me ample time to think.

"You didn't see how she looked at him, though." I said quietly. "She looked at him with stars in her eyes."

"And what about you? How do you look at her?"

I was silent. I knew how I looked at her, it had been pointed out to me few times already. But, what did that matter? She only had eyes for him.

"I look at her like she's the only beautiful thing in the world."

"Exactly, you mush."

"But, she doesn't look at me like that."

"Maybe she does and you haven't noticed."

"Maybe." I whispered to myself, my eyes flickering to my phone as it went off again.

I'm outside.

"Shit, I gotta go, Claire."

"But, there's only two teams left! We gotta finish this game!"

I hesitated for a moment before relenting.

"Damn, okay, let's kill them quickly, then."

We continued to play, my mind on the blonde outside my apartment rather than the game I was in. She was waiting for me and I was playing some stupid game.

I rushed into the battlefield, shooting indiscriminately to try and end the game quickly. I killed absolutely no one and got myself downed, which left Claire alone to win the game.

I picked up my phone and started texting Lizzie, telling her I was being held up and I'd be out in a moment.

Claire was able to clutch the game and we won, but I still was in another world.

"Go get your girl. You're not here with me anyway." She laughed and I sighed apologetically.

"Sorry, I'm going. I'll talk to you later."

I shut my game and tossed my headphones on the bed before rushing to the door, slipping my shoes on and practically running out to meet her. Brie was right, I was down bad.

As I approached her car, she smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Her smile was damn infectious and I was happy to catch it.

I opened the passenger door and got in, closing it swiftly and buckling up.

"So what was so important that you kept me waiting fifteen minutes?" She asked playfully, a mock angry look on her face.

I laughed and raised my hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was in a game when you messaged me. I had to finish what I started."

"Mhm." She grumbled, a small smile still lingering on her face as she started to drive.

I leaned back in the seat as we fell into a comfortable silence, the soft music coming from the radio all but ignored as we took in each other's presence. 

"Where are we going?" I asked after a few moments, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"I was wondering when you were gonna ask." She giggled, her eyes shifting from the road to me and then back again. "We're going someplace yummy."

"McDonald's?" I asked excitedly.

"Yummier." She laughed, shaking her head.

"What could be yummier than McDonald's?"

"Absolutely anything. Wendy's for example."

"Oof. She's got superior burgers, but McDonald's fries all the way."

"Fair enough. But no, we're not getting fast food."

"Bummer."

"Hush." She said as she lightly smacked my thigh with her right hand. "You'll love it."

"Oh," I whimpered pathetically, holding my leg. "The pain."

"Aw, poor baby." She teased. "Here," she kissed her hand and placed it on my leg, and my heart fluttered. "All better."

"All better." I repeated, dazed from her actions, and currently riding a high from her touch.

She left her hand there for a moment longer than she probably should have before giving me a pat and returning her hand to the steering wheel.

"Do I get a hint?"

"You already got a hint!" She laughed.

"Yummier than McDonald's is not a hint."

"Well, that's all you're getting."

I huffed playfully and sunk into the seat, noting how damn comfortable it was.

"I could fall asleep in this seat." I told her, closing my eyes briefly before opening them again and looking at her.

She had been staring at me as we were stopped at a red light. A faint blush crossed her cheeks and she had a small smile on her lips. How long was she looking at me?

"It's green." I whispered and she snapped out of her stupor, returning her focus and attention to the road.

I smiled to myself, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could be looking at me the way she looked at Robbie. Maybe I could be someone special to her.

We drove for a while longer before she pulled up in front of a small ice cream shop somewhere in the city.

"Ice cream!" I cheered as I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. I looked at the signs on the windows, my face dropping when I saw the seasonal flavors. "Oh no, pumpkin."

"Oh yes, pumpkin." She smirked as she stood next to me. "You're gonna love it."

"Can I get a different flavor and taste yours?"

She thought for a second before nodding, playfully nudging me.

"Of course, silly. What flavor would you like?" She asked as we entered.

"Chocolate." I hummed softly. "Chocolate sounds so good right now."

"Pumpkin sounds even better."

"Absolutely not." I laughed.

We walked up to the counter and she ordered for us, which I was grateful for, and as I was about to pull out my wallet, she beat me to it and paid with her card.

"My treat."

"Lizzie." I whined and she smiled at me. "You can't keep spoiling me like this."

"Says you."

We got our cones and sat down in a booth hidden away in a corner. She sat facing away from the door and I sat across from her.

"This is so good." I spoke as I ate, chocolate undoubtedly getting all over the place.

"I see that." She laughed softly, offering me her cone. "Just try it. One lick."

I looked from her to the cone, wincing as I remembered I promised to try it.

"Stick out your tongue ..." she said as she raised it up to my lips.

Without a second thought, I did what I was told, taking a generous amount of ice cream onto my tongue.

"Good girl."

I would've choked if I hadn't already swallowed the mildly repulsive treat. She smiled widely as my face went from disgust to indifference, taking that as a win.

"I've tasted worse things."

"I told you."

"No. You told me it was good. I didn't say it was good."

"Oh, c'mon." She laughed and I laughed with her.

"It's okay. Chocolate is definitely better."

"Lemme taste yours."

I took another lick of my ice cream to get the pumpkin off my tongue before holding the cone out to her, watching as she kept eye contact with me as she licked delicately at my ice cream.

Jesus shit fuck -

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" I snapped out of my daze and returned my attention to her, an amused smile on her face. "You okay?"

"I'm great." I smiled back, realizing that if she wanted to play that game, even just in a friendly way, we could play that game.

I reached across the table and ran my thumb along her lower lip, wiping the remains of my ice cream off of her mouth.

She sat, dazed, mouth slightly agape as I wiped off my finger with a napkin, holding back every urge in my body to stick it in my mouth and suck it clean.

When she snapped out of her daze, she picked up a napkin, leaned across the table, and started wiping my entire face.

"Hey!" I cried, laughing at her actions. "I'm not that dirty!"

"That's what you think." She giggled, finally bringing the napkin to my mouth and wiping it clean. "There. Now you're all clean."

"Thank you, mom." I started eating my ice cream again, careful to keep myself spotless.

She hummed as she ate her ice cream, and we sat in, yet another, comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company. Maybe Claire was right. Maybe there could be something between us. Or this was just harmless, friendly flirting. There was only one way to find out, whether I liked it or not.

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp @dorabledewdroop @scarlie-johalsen-blog @annie-ahmelia

[succcession]

I have a request for Kendall!!!! I imagine him and the reader being on the verge of divorce and him being a possessive almost ex husband and making a scene every time a man breaths near the reader and them fighting and screaming at each other and then having the best make up angry sex of their lives.

Your mind is phenomenal, I hope you like it!

Marriage Make Up

Kendall Roy x f!reader smut 4.1k word count

You tried with Kendall. You really tried. It started with the coke. Which you could look past for awhile. Occasionally, suggesting various detoxes and rehab facilities, always trying to let him know you were there for him. Free from judgment. You knew who Kendall was when you married him, the addictions he struggled with. The trauma. However, the day you stood in front of him, your handmade white dress flowing, a traditional veil being lifted from your eyes to kiss him. You promised yourself you were going to be there for him. No matter what happened.

That was until the coke turned into ignoring all phone calls, never coming home, forgetting birthdays, and daily drunk 3am texts that clearly weren’t intended for you. You threatened Kendall that if this is how the marriage was going to be, you couldn’t be a part of it. But honestly they were empty threats. When you had made that initial promise, you meant it. 

That was until the escorts. 

You were awoken one morning by the ringtone of your phone, slowly blinking your eyes open as the sound grew louder. You threw your arm over searching to find the warmth of your husband's body sleeping next to you. Instead, being greeted by the now too common fabric of the cold sheets. You began rummaging through the pile of king size blankets searching your buzzing phone, eventually answering right before a call from Roman Roy went to voicemail.

“Hey! Seen your husband lately?” Roman questioned. Never beginning conversations with any kind of small talk. 

“Oh yeah…Kendall, my husband” you scoffed. “At this point I have no idea if he is even still alive.”

“Oh he’s alive alright. All over the news actually… Billionaire Logan Roy's son, Kendall Roy seen leaving NYC restaurant with instagram model Claire Hane.”

Roman read aloud the headline cackling after almost every word.

 “That girl is like, known to be an escort! What? Did you stop putting out?” He continued joking.

As soon as Roman had begun reading the headline your heart was pounding. Kendall in the news was rarely a good thing, and with every word out of Roman’s mouth you could feel heat rushing to your face as tears filled your eyes. 

Choking on the lump in your throat you struggled to come up with a respond to Romans teasing. You wanted to act unbothered, like you were as heartless as any Roy sibling, unphased. But the tears already streaming down your face clearly proved otherwise.

 “I…Fuck” you huffed finally managing to get something out of your quivering mouth. Everyone had warned you with patronizing eyes and scolding fingers when you married Kendall that he was inconsistent, unthoughtful, and “occasionally psychotic” his ex-wife even mentioned. However, you always waved their comments off with a smile. “Yeah, I know he has a lot going on, but I’m in love. And he can be really empathetic! I’ve never had someone take care of me the way that Kendall does. And not just with his wallet!” You explained over and over. Now all of your illusions were quickly shattering. Of anything he could do, cheating was not one you expected. Your sex life was great! At least, you thought. Maybe a little lacking lately, but that was hardly your fault seeing as though he was rarely home. Did he honestly need to pay for sex? Your confidence in him and your confidence in yourself were crashing down right in front of you.

“Look y/n, I’m sure it's not you. My brother is an asshole. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s been a shitty husband.” 

Nearly forgetting Roman was on the other line you groaned at what you knew was his attempt to cheer you up. “Thanks Rome, I’m gonna go drink over my failed marriage. Bye.” you mumbled quickly hanging up before Roman got another chance to throw in a heartless joke.

Time appeared to be moving painfully slow after the disheartening events of this morning. After laying in bed clutching your chest and sobbing for what felt like weeks, you eventually pulled yourself into the bathroom. Confronted by your gloomy reflection of swollen eyes, still in shock this was all really happening. That Kendall would really be hiring escorts, and that you would find out from his brother! You decided the only way to distract your distressing mind would be a hot shower. Taking your time to delicately wash your hair and lather every inch of your body with the expensive body soap. Even though Kendall was richer than you could comprehend, you still had a habit of trying to preserve those things, never using too much. However, now all those little things were out the window. Who cares anymore if I’m just using him, you thought to yourself. Obviously he doesn’t.

You dried yourself off slowly taking the time to apply a sweet smelling lotion and your face moisturizer. Taking one last glance at your figure in the mirror and letting out a deep sigh. “Fuck him, I’m still sexy” you exclaim aloud at your reflection. 

“Fuck yeah, you are!” You hear Kendall reply slyly behind you, looking back to see his suited figure leaning against the door frame. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe. You have no problem brushing off his remarks rushing to grab your white silk robe, covering your exposed body from him. Kendall was quick to pick up on your agitated reaction as you brushed past him.

“Okay. Yeah great what the fuck did I do now? Cause I know I didn’t leave any fucking drugs around the house.” he huffed, naturally jumping to defend his actions. 

“Yeah, probably because you’re never here.” You mumbled quietly. You weren’t ready to fight about it. Not yet at least. You still felt too heartbroken to even scream at him, simply just wanting him to disappear until you were ready to confront the reality. 

“I know I’ve been gone a lot y/n, but with my dad gone things at the office are just really starting to pick up and everything with Mattson, I mean…” his voice trailed off as you wandered around the room putting together a comfortable outfit. His rambling excuses eventually stopped when he looked at you and questioned, 

“Uh babe the fuck are you wearing?”.

“God Ken, why do you even care? You’re leaving again tonight right?” you sneered. He’s never home, and then when he is home all he has is work excuses and a problem with your outfit, seriously?

“Um, we're leaving tonight. Waystar Charity Gala. One of my biggest opportunities to make a good impression as CEO. What, did you fucking forget?” He exclaimed. 

“Fuck” you whined holding a finger to rub your temple. 

You had totally forgotten tonight was the charity event, explaining why Kendall was home and finally paying any attention to you. Part of being married to Kendall Roy was putting on a play. Attending various events and red carpets draped over your husband's side performing as his beautiful, dotting wife. Although, honestly you never had to fake it. You genuinely did adore Kendall and it made you happy to make him look good, and brag about his accomplishments to his peers. And you were good at it! Always leaving every man in the room jealous of how happy you made Kendall, and every woman dying to take your place. But tonight you weren’t sure if you could handle that job. You couldn’t even make eye contact with him right now, let alone appear like you’re obsessed with him. 

Kendall walked over to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you. You resisted every urge to begin crying again, screaming at him about this morning's headlines. Although it was eating you alive, you knew that sobbing to him wouldn’t work on Kendall. The Roy’s were a different breed, and if you wanted to get to him, you really had to make him feel something. You looked up at his figure towering above you. Giving him soft eyes but maintaining the displeased frown on your face.

“Are you seriously this upset over me being busy? God I know, I’m sorry for being the world shittiest fucking husband!” he scoffed “ But I’m trying to take over a fucking company here y/n. Now, you knew what you signed up for when you married me, so we’re going to this fucking gala. And you’re going to be my loving wife, okay? You’re going to look beautiful, and you’re going to make me look good. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for me?” his patronizing tone sinking deep into your chest. You knew he was half serious, half just attempting to intimidate you, and the good girl he had to throw in hoping it would finally get to you. And it did. Sending heat straight to your center. You gave a slow nod in response, not breaking eye contact. Although, this response was not enough for kendall as he roughly brought a hand under your chin “Say yes Kendall, thank you Kendall”. You repeated his words gently and even turned your head to leave a gentle kiss on his palm. His entire demeanor softened, you could easily play into his game now but you were already planning ways to get back at him throughout the night. 

Your dress for the night was a striking dark blue, a slight shimmer radiating from the bottom, drawing all eyes down the velvet fabric that formed around your body nicely. The plunging neckline, a lower cut then you would usually wear. You nearly forget about Kendall as every head in the crowd turned in awe at yours and Kendall's arrival. Your beauty quickly becoming the topic of the event.

 As you made your way through the party, Kendall snaked his arm around your waist breathing deeply into your neck, recognizing his favorite perfume of yours. Smirking as he whispered “You’re so good to me.” His words sent a chill down your spine. How could he so easily say things like that while he had another life going on? Your brain jumped between wanting to slap him, and completely surrendering to his touch. You wanted nothing more than to leave a soft kiss on his lips, lean your head into his shoulder and mean it. But you refused to give in so easily, letting his hands wander your body without returning any of the attention. 

 It seemed as though you had a spotlight on you, the way your dress glistened softly, your light smile drawing in awestruck gazes from every direction. Kendall analyzed every man who let their eyes linger on you as you passed by, his grip around your waist growing tighter with the minute. Although, he wasn’t saying anything you knew the increased attention surrounding you was driving him insane. Of course, Kendall's ideal night consisted of having the most desired woman in the room but tonight felt excessive. With men who had never spoken to him in his life stopping to shake his hand, clearly only for a chance to gain proximity to you.

You grabbed a champagne glass from a waiter before turning on your heel away from Kendall commenting “I’m going to go mingle.” 

“What are you-” his question, cut off by quick disappearance into the crowd. 

It was easy to charm the kind of men you find at these events. Whether they were married or single, younger or older all you had to do was act interested in their lives. Listen to them talk about how much money they make, throw in an innocent giggle and they’re easily under your control. Which made it easy to flirt with random billionaires throughout the room, but made for little true entertainment. Reminding you what you had first admired about Kendall. Although others rarely saw it, Kendall had depth. You two often would stay up till early hours in the morning pouring out endless streams of emotions to each other. He enjoyed deep conversations and sharing his daydreams. Kendall was made of much more than just Waystar inheritance money. Every other man in the room felt so…simple, so facile compared to Ken. 

It wasn’t long until Kendall found you in the crowd again, eyes locked on some investor as he did his best to swoon you. He watched as you threw your head back in laughter, lightly letting your hand graze the man's bicep. 

Kendall formed a tight fist as he felt a trigger go off in his head. Kendall spent his whole life competing. He definitely wasn’t going to let your attention be stolen by anybody else. In his mind when he put a ring on it, he won you. Besides you hardly paid attention to the people at these things, why tonight did you decide to put on such a performance while brushing off all of his advances? The jealousy of your lack of attention was piling on him like a ton of bricks. He knew he had been extremely negligent in the marriage department lately, and as much as he probably deserved to be cheated on after everything he’s done in his life, he didn’t think you would be so quick to throw yourself at other men.

He made his way over to you and the man stood in front of you, quickly sliding in closely next to you. “Thanks for keeping her company, man. Keep up the good work.” Kendall joked aggressively.

“Ah anytime, we’ve all seen what a busy guy you are, hate to see you leave this beautiful thing all alone.” The man scoffed back lightly, referencing today's news. You were always impressed by rich men's ability to be mean to each other without actually fighting, it was as if cryptic trash talk was their second language.

“Oh, I guarantee I can keep my wife very entertained” Kendall asserted. 

You observed the two men wind each other up, pleased that your simple yet effective plan of making Kendall jealous was working. Eventually, the other man let up, leaving you two standing alone. Kendall’s chest was heaving in front of you, his large eyes scanning the room, and you could sense that he was trying to calm himself down. Resisting from making a scene. He knew he needed to stay longer, that he should spend the entire night networking with strangers, gaining the trust of possible donors, anything to earn respect as CEO. But as his anxieties regarding your displeased attitude began growing more unignorable, he wanted nothing more than to drag you out of the venue. Away from everybody's eyes, and against only his. Protected. 

Kendall wasn’t saying a word to you, and you took your opportunity to wander off again to search for anyone semi handsome you could pretend to care about. However, your first step away from him was interrupted by a rough grip on your hand. You turned hesitantly, knowing you will be met with his distressed eyes, “I’m done with this fucking game. We’re leaving.” 

The fighting began the second you walked into the apartment building. Not even making it past the lobby before Kendall was yelling out “So are we gonna fucking talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about Kendall? How you clearly have no desire to even be married to me? Why don't we start there!” You explained only to be met with a stunned 

“What?”.

“You’re never fucking here Kendall! And if you are here you’re high, mad at me for being upset that my husband only ever sees me when he's coked out of his mind!”. You had never yelled at him like this, shocked at the amount of anger you could feel swelling in your chest. 

“Oh and now you don’t even want to have sex right? You can just hire someone for that too! I hope eventually you can spend enough money on pussy and drugs to actually be happy Kendall!”. It was harsh, yes. You wanted to hurt him. Hoping maybe your words could compare to how it felt reading the headline.

“Fuck you. Okay, what the fuck are you talking about y/n?” 

“The news, Kendall! I’m not fucking stupid! Everyone has seen your recent little public affair. Obviously, I don’t make you happy so please lets just do whatever the fuck we have to do to end this! I don't want anything from you, I don't care, I just don't fucking care anymore” you aggressively stammered on, raising your hands in defeat.

Kendall was sitting on the bed watching you pace the room. He didn’t realize that his dinner last night had made so many news articles, but they weren’t lying. He did meet up with an escort, thinking that fucking someone he didn’t care about might actually help him blow off some steam. But by halfway through dinner he had already made up his mind that he couldn’t follow through with it. Sure, she was beautiful and listened to him rant about work and his ex-wife. Nonetheless, his interest faltered with every coy giggle she let out. She wasn’t sarcastic like you, she didn’t push back or tease him. It was as if you were the only one bold enough to treat him like a real person, not just a possible paycheck. He left the restaurant with her but only to have her dropped back off at her apartment, giving a soft apology while still paying her the originally intended amount. He thought he could be like his dad, not give a fuck about anyone, use anything for his own pleasure. But he was positive his dick wouldn’t have been able to get hard all night, and trying only would have made it miserable for her and him.

“I didn’t fuck her.” Kendall finally huffed in response pushing himself to stand in front of you “I couldn’t fuck her! I’ll be honest with you y/n, I wanted to. But we never even made it past the fucking restaurant! I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You never leave me side y/n and I know I fucking put you through hell and back! I’m really fucked up, but I didn’t fuck anyone else!” 

You weren’t sure whether to believe him. Regardless you would still be upset that he considered it. But there was something oddly sweet about a man who could buy any woman not being able to go through with it because of you. Kendall had slowly been stepping towards, and your hands laid gently at your side, unsure of what to do with all the information in your head, only to be met with a rough kiss from Kendall. You pushed him away exclaiming “Kendall, what the fuck? I’m so fucking pissed!” yet you were met again by his tight grasp around your waist and his lips returning deeply to yours. This time unable to resist the urge to give in and kiss him back.

“I know. You should be pissed. But I love you, I love you y/n.” he muttered in response against your lips. The sound of your shared panting filling the room as the passionate kiss continued. Kendall walked you backwards until you collided with the wall behind you. 

“So fucking mad at you Ken!” you growled into his mouth as you both clawed each other's clothes, his arms raking down your backside squeezing your ass roughly and brushing the sleeves of your dress off your shoulders. Letting the fabric pool around your waist his mouth was quick to begin leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck, stopping to nibble gently on the skin between your neck and shoulder. You threw your head back as his mouth made contact with your nipple, he sucked harshly, pulling the skin lightly with his lips, and then soothing the sensitive bud by tracing circles with his tongue. His other hand working to undo the zipper holding up the remainder of your dress. You attempted to steady your shaking hands and loosen his belt and dress shirt but the feeling spreading from your nipples to your pussy was already causing you to struggle. When your dress pooled around your ankles, Kendall wasted no time in lifting you into his arms, legs instinctively wrapping around him as he sucked on your bottom lip. You could feel his bulge pressing firmly into your center as he trapped you tightly between him and the wall. His hips grinding, desperate to buck into you, causing a yelp to leave your mouth every time. 

He moved his hands swiftly, lowering his dress pants enough to pull his cock out, rubbing the large bead of precum that was forming on his head between your folds. 

“Fuck Ken!” You exclaimed as you felt his head pressing firmly against your slit. Kendall usually enjoyed taking his time, slowly working his cock into you, trying to make you as wet as possible before bottoming out. However, now you could feel him pushing in with no hesitation. Grunting as your lips squeezed tightly around him, giving you no time to adjust, only pulse as he pushed deeper. His cock had never felt so swollen inside you before. You weren’t sure if it was the time apart or the passionate argument but your pussy was yearning for every inch of him inside you, and to completely submit to his hold. But your brain still had the lingering thoughts of his actions.

“Why Ken? Fuck- why do you have to be like that? Why can’t we just talk?” You managed to moan out 

“I don’t know why I’m so fucked up y/n” he grunted into your ear pushing the final inch of his length all the way inside of you. Both of you let out a sigh in unison as your bodies aligned perfectly together. Your legs spread wide for him as he held your ass in his palms, grinding deeply into you. With each thrust his pelvis softly nudging your clit driving your pleasure further.

Backing away from the wall, while maintaining his tight hold around you, Kendall walked your conjoined bodies over to the bed. Laying you down harshly against the edge of the mattress, pulling your hips quickly to meet his, pushing his dick deep back inside you. He collapsed into your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your chest. He fucked into you at a brutal pace, you were unable to controls the cries that left you lips each time his thick head brushed against the sensitive spot along your walls.

“Ken please- I need you” you whined scratching your nails down his back searching for anything to hold onto while the knot in your stomach tightened. 

“I want to be better, baby. I can be better for you. I promise” He groaned deeply into your neck, his words so easily seducing you back into completely trusting him again.

“I want you home Ken, I want- ughh you” you managed to moan out breathlessly. As your orgasm drew closer, so did your thoughts about missing Kendall. You just wanted to tell him how much you loved him, how much you needed him but all that left your lips was a loud cry as you felt your pussy finally release on his cock. 

“You’re making me cum! Fuck Ken oh my god, wait wait I-…” you yelped.

Your hand reached between your legs pressing your palm to his stomach as your overstimulated pussy throbbed harshly around him. He maintained his brutal pace, holding your hips in place as you squirmed against him.

“Just a little more baby, you can take me. That’s my girl” he cooed, his hands straightening your legs over his shoulder. His hips snapping against your ass, eyes never leaving yours. Watching in adoration as your eyes shut closed, but your mouth remaining open, drool falling down your chin as the pleasure slowly became too much. 

With a few more powerful thrusts Kendall was releasing deep inside you. Allowing himself to collapse completely into your warm body. Shallowly grinding his hips to ride out his passionate high. Waiting until he felt your walls stop throbbing around him. Allowing both of your breathing to relax before he eventually pulled out with a long sigh. Kendall looked down at you fucked out face. His thumb brushed your cheek gently, then ran it along your bottom lip. He thought you always looked so beautiful with your cheeks flushed pink, hair wildly flying around your face. Arms reaching up searching for his protection. He wasn’t ready to give up on another marriage, not when the make up sex was like this, he laughed to himself. He gathered you in his arms scooting your bodies up the bed, until he was comfortably holding you.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 1 (Sequel to The Redbridge Hunts)

Summary: We pick up where we left off in Demsdale. Loki and Claire’s relationship goes from strength to strength. Loki and Chris work on their brotherly relationship, building trust in one another again and learning to deal with each-others faults. Chris also begins to court Louise, showing her what love should be like, while also working to try and better himself. Of course, all of this is not without its troubles. Being a vampire in Demsdale is never plain sailing.

WARNINGS: Much the same as The Redbridge Hunts. Blood, violence, smut, murder.

-

‘I can’t believe it. Out of everyone in the world, why does it have to be your sister?’ Loki huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘I know, but look at them. They look adorable together already.’ Claire whispered.

Loki and Claire were stood by the dining table in the kitchen, they were looking at Chris and Louise, who were just through in the living room talking.

Loki couldn’t deny he’d never seen his brother look so happy before, he couldn’t take his eyes off Louise. And Claire hadn’t seen Louise look so giddy before, she was in awe of Chris.

‘Did you notice how she put her hand out to him straight away? She never initiates touch like that straight off the bat usually.’ Claire said to Loki.

‘Hmm.’ Loki huffed and downed his drink. ‘I need another.’

Claire giggled as he poured another drink and almost downed it all in one go, too. He was stressing big time.

‘I know we are making amends, but I still don’t know if I trust him with her. She’s been through so much already. And he’s… questionable. In and out of the bedroom.’  

‘If she’s his soulmate, he won’t hurt her. He will have the instinct to protect her, like you do with me.’ Claire assured Loki.

‘Yes, but also the urge to bite her will be stronger too.’ Loki said worriedly.

‘You don’t bite me uncontrollably. He’s strong, he will be able to resist, like you do.’

Loki was still concerned though, so made sure to keep an eye on them during the party.

Louise had never felt a pull towards someone like she did with Chris, when she first laid eyes on him her breath was taken away. He was gorgeous. Sure, she found him a little intimidating but there was just something about him that she was so drawn to. She’d even surprised herself when she put her hand out first to shake his hand, that wasn’t really like her. She just seemed to feel safe around him already, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

‘I uhm… I guess I have you to thank for me being here. For setting me free from him. It feels weird to be thanking someone for… killing someone… but thank you. Truly.’ Louise said shyly to Chris.

Chris smiled softly down at her. ‘You’re welcome. I’m glad you can live your life now, it must have been horrible to live in fear and constantly hiding.’ He frowned a little.

‘It was.’ Louise nodded and looked down briefly. ‘It’s going to take a little time to get used to it all again, but I already feel so much better. As soon as Claire told me, it was like a huge weight off my shoulders.’

Chris couldn’t stop smiling at her, he was a mix of emotions. Ecstatic that he had found his soulmate, that she was so incredibly beautiful and sweet. He was confused at how while he wanted to bite her, to drink from her and there was a strong urge to want to get her into bed, he also wanted to just wrap her in his arms and protect her forever. To shield her from all the evil of the world and give her everything she could ever want.

He realised he was going to need to speak to Loki for advice after the party, that was a definite. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her, so he was going to need to keep his urges on a tight leash until she was ready. If she was ever ready. Maybe she didn’t feel the same as he did, perhaps she wouldn’t want to be with him… While the thought broke him, he would do whatever she wanted, if she wanted him to stay away then he would.

Though judging by the constant blush on her cheeks and the way she stayed by him, made him think… hope… that that wouldn’t be the case.

Chris and Louise kept the conversation light, they asked one another about hobbies and their jobs. Chris found out that Louise was in accounting for a small bookshop in the town she lived in. When he told her that he dabbled a bit in music with his band, he thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head.

‘Really? A head teacher and in a band? That’s so cool. What kind of music does your band play?’ She asked excitedly.

‘We’re a metal band. Nothing serious right now, really. I’ve been focusing mainly on the school. We have the odd gig now and then.’ He said a little bashfully.

‘Ooo, I love metal!’ Louise squeaked.

‘Really? I’ll need to give you one of our demo CDs.’ Chris grinned widely.

‘I’d love that!’

‘Are you two going to socialise with other people or just stay hidden over here all night?’ Claire asked as she interrupted them.

‘If we must socialise, then I suppose we will.’ Chris sighed dramatically.

Claire gave Louise a sly nudge when they went to join Loki, Jessica and Spencer.

Though even while conversing with others, Chris struggled to take his eyes off of Louise and vice versa.

During the night, Chris was the perfect gentleman, even if he did still get a few jabs in at the others, he couldn’t resist, he was nothing but kind and sweet towards Louise.

At the end of the night, Louise had planned to get a taxi home. Even though it would take a couple of hours, but Loki offered to pay for her. Though she had the option to stay the night, she had work starting at eleven in the morning so figured it would be best to get home.

Loki and Claire walked outside with her to see her to the taxi, of course Chris went too.

‘Been so good as always, sis.’ Claire said as she gave Louise a big hug.

‘I’ll see you soon.’ Louise said determinedly.

‘Definitely.’ Claire nodded.

‘Thank you for coming, darling. Thank you for my present, too.’ Loki said when Louise gave him a hug, she was so comfortable around Loki. And he gave great hugs.

‘You’re very welcome. I had a great time tonight, thank you for inviting me.’ She said as she stepped backwards.

Then she looked at Chris, who didn’t want her to leave, but he knew she had to get home.

‘It was great to meet you, Chris… Maybe next time I come to visit, I’ll see you again?’ She said, hopeful.

‘Most definitely.’ Chris purred.

He was about to reach out to take her hand but she moved in towards him and went up on her tiptoes, he leaned down a bit, thinking that she was wanting to whisper something to him, but his heart melted when instead she kissed his cheek.

Claire and Loki shared a look together.

‘Goodnight.’ She smiled at him, then went over to the taxi.

Chris quickly got his brain back in gear and rushed over to open the back door for her, seeing her in. He closed the door carefully behind her, then waved as the taxi drove off.

As soon as the taxi turned the corner, Chris transformed into a bat and flew up high, to follow the taxi.

‘I knew he was going to do that.’ Loki muttered.

‘Making sure she gets home safely?’ Claire asked.

‘Yep.’ Loki sighed.

‘Come on birthday boy, why don’t we go and continue your celebration in the bedroom.’ Claire said suggestively as she wrapped her arms around his arm.

-

The following day, Chris was in bat form, perching on Louise’s living room window. He was just watching her, innocently. He couldn’t stay away from her.

He heard fluttering of fellow bat wings above him, and he got a pat on the head from the bat. He internally groaned, but flew off the window ledge and followed the bat down a quiet back street, turning into his vampire form as he landed.

‘What are you doing here, lil bro?’ He asked with a huff as he folded his arms over his chest.

‘I could ask you the same thing.’ Loki replied.

‘I just can’t stay away from her… wanted to check she was ok.’ Chris said sheepishly.

Loki sighed and ran a hand down his face. ‘I get it. I went through the same with Claire. I know it’s difficult, especially to start with until you can actually get intimate with her, to calm the urges down. Though she’s been through a lot, she might need a lot of time.’ Loki said calmly.

‘I know.’ Chris said softly. ‘I’ll give her all the time she needs. I can wait for an eternity if I need to.’

[ciaomarie]

Chapter 2: Getting to Know You

I recently wrote a post-season 2 story about Carmy helping with Sydney's apartment search. I wanted to back track a little to get into his head space just after the Friends and Family almost disaster, but prior to the apartment hunt, during which he is hopelessly crushing on Sydney. Mostly, it's backstory and gives more context to why Carmen is who he is :)

When Carmy stumbled frozen and broken out of the walk-in the night of Friends and Family, Sydney was waiting for him. However, something in his eyes made her reconsider whatever she had been planning to say. She pointed him to sit on floor against a stove she had turned on and made him hot tea. Wordlessly she sat on the floor next to him until he finished. When he tried to speak, nothing came out. His icy mottled fist began to circle his chest, but Sydney closed her hand over his.

"We'll start over again tomorrow."

Weeks later Carmen asked her why she hadn't quit that night. She said "Your face…it looked like mine did when I lost Sheridan."

In return she had asked him what happened with Claire and if it had been her fault.

"No. She thought she knew me, but she didn't and honestly, we didn't have anything in common."

The more Carm thought about Claire the sorrier he felt about how he'd behaved and the less he regretted the break-up. Claire was his high school dream girl. She was always kind to him, despite being able to mingle in nearly every clique at school. She was as comfortable with the student government club, as she was with the skaters. Everyone liked her and for no apparent reason she frequently stopped at his locker to ask if he had gum or invite him to study. So he always kept a pack of gum for her, but was too shy to join her study group. Once she and two of her friends ambushed him after school and convinced him to come to a party the night prior to graduation. He decided he might as well not end his high school career without ever having gone to one. The party was held in woods behind one of the football player's homes. There was a bonfire, cheap beer, too few cups, and couples making out or swaying to "Die in Your Arms".

Claire found a clean Solo cup and they shared a drink as she gazed into his eyes.

"I love this song"

"Yeah…it's popular".

Natalie had been playing Justin Bieber non-stop for the last few years and Carm was almost willing to give up all music if he never had to listen to him sing another note.

He didn't remember the rest of the conversation, but at some point Claire kissed him. 12 years later when they began dating she brought up the night of the party and how he looked so surprised and blushed.

"You were so cute. I bet it was your first kiss!"

"No, but almost" he said a little taken aback. As pleased as he was that Claire was interested, he felt like her project. Something about their relationship reminded him of a cheesy 80's teen movie. Too sweet. Not enough acid.

He could have saved them both a lot of trouble if he'd not given her any number, much less a fake one. But it was Claire, the brilliant, fearless, beautiful girl he'd used to sketch over and over again and she wanted HIM. He liked her so much back then. She went off to Michigan State and he began peeling mushrooms at a restaurant eventually becoming Carmen Berzatto "the most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America."

But before Claire, in 7th grade summer school, there was Kyla Branson. Carmy needed to take 7th grade math again before they'd pass him to 8th grade and Kyla was a transfer student. She had just finished 6th grade, and was taking 7th grade math and English early, because she was a pianist. A whole freakin' prodigy that would be touring with Eric Clapton later that fall. The math teacher had told the class, much to Kyla's obvious discomfort.

On the third day the class split into pairs to do an assignment and Carmy and Kyla were paired. He could barely look at her. Kyla had thick curly eyelashes which framed her large black brown eyes, her hair was usually brushed up into a soft coily bun like a ballerina, she wore small white diamond earrings in her shockingly small ears, and she had an heart-breakingly cute overbite that showed whenever she smiled. Carmy was gone over this little black girl. She was very shy too, but an overachiever so she persevered in making him talk enough to get the work done.

Once she saw his sketches on the back of his notebook and said he was artist. Using his best charcoal pencils he drew a portrait of her in the privacy of the attic at home. On the last day of summer school he gave it to her when class dismissed and dashed out of the room, his face redder than Heinz ketchup. Kyla caught up with him outside and grabbed his hand leading him out of the view of the car pick-up line.

"Thank you Carmen. I think you're beautiful too" Kyla whispered and kissed him full on the mouth. For three seconds. Then she ran back to the car pick up line, got into her parent's car and Carmen never saw her again.

Once he thought he saw her. The eyes and overbite were startling familiar, but the name was different. It was the day that Sydney Adamu walked into The Beef. It was the day that someone saw who he really was again.

[0008753]

I AM NOT YOUR FINAL GIRL, p1          .    .    .

[  *  ]      writing prompt      )         :       below, you will find a series of various prompts from claire c. holland's, i am not your final girl. these can also be altered as seen fit to better suit the characters in question. content warning: the following prompts may not be suitable for everyone as they contain references to violence, sex, blood, death, and murder.

"there's a trap, an accusation there, a snare ready and taunt for loose limbs." "aren't I my own woman? or is that not enough?" "they look at me like I'm hiding something." "something can be vulnerable and powerful both at once." "you cannot understand this, and I have grown so weary trying to explain." "white fences are only made of wood; they splinter so easily." "what is it about their faces?" "you smell the same. you taste the same." "I got tired of hearing it was my fault, that's all." "when the moon makes bodies dark." "I got cursed, in every way a person can." "you kill yourself, over and over, to be different." "the drive for something that feels like desire, but it's so much more." "we don't fantasize until we do." "you can't trust your body unless you embrace it." "you might say things didn't end well, but I had fun. ask anyone." "I'm so tired of waiting —aren't you?— for the world to become good and tolerable and kind." "it doesn't always end this way." "the air crackled with our potential, neon and electric." "watch for me, even when it's moonless. I'll throw a spark." "but in the darkness, the night monsters come." "because i have changed. did you really think i wouldn't?" "you can't blame them for being confused." "the ghosts are worse. they never go away, only wait for perfect moments to throttle your windpipe, choke off your breath." "there is nothing else in this world like realizing you're going to live and not being sure you can." "I'm so tired of waiting. I won't do it anymore." "you smell the same. you taste the same. but you're different. you're different." "you'd be shocked what a woman can live without. " "your personality is apartments, doors that can be closed." "when they come, they'll take pieces; they can't carry it all." "they can't change you too much. " "when it happens to us, it's for the best, but when it happens to them it's tragedy." "how did I grow so motherless?" "blood is black and barely shows." "who would imagine any girl's teeth could do so much damage." "think, how long we've been forced to consume these sins of our fathers." "I touch tender parts of myself in the shower, remembering the sound, the snapping of his neck. how it felt like power." "watch how they devour." "my hunger is so great, so open. I have lived through a lifetime of famine, and yet no one will look in my hungry eyes." "they avert their gazes, frown pityingly at one another, grumble." "this is how I learned to find you in the fog." "we're like roaches, we thrive."

[nanaminsonyfans]

╚»★«╝ Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire ╚»★«╝

a/n; the lack of cyberpunk x reader fics is appalling. anyways gay kerry eurodyne for christmas ur welcome. also this is post after giving up johnny specifically the sun ending. sorry of its shitty, i rarely write as a male reader and i hope i did okay! requests are open!!!

pairing: male!reader x kerry eurodyne (cyberpunk)

warnings; anal, male oral receiving, slight exhibition?, cursing, spoilers for end of cyberpunk.

—

The Kerry Eurodyne was making a Christmas album with US Cracks, him being main vocals and the girls being background vocals. You were there as Kerry's loving boyfriend and supporter but also because you had nothing else to do. Being the famous V merc has run its course and after everything with Johnny and Arasaka....you just wanted to be you, Y/n L/n. Of course you still talked to some old friends, Claire being one of them. Truth be told....You missed Johnny. A piece of you was gone.

"Y/n? Babe? You there?" Kerry's voice brought you back. The girls were gone leaving the two of you there. "You having one of those episodes again?" He asks softly, obviously worried. "Oh, no i'm fine. Was just thinking is all. The music was pretty soothing." You joke and stood up. "Was it? Didn't want to put you to sleep." "You didn't. Just started to remind me of stuff." Kerry nods and cupped your cheek. "This past year has been hard for you. I understand." You nod and leaned against his touch. His hands were always so warm.

"I gotta finish some vocals. Go get a drink." He hums softly. You nod, leaving and came back. Kerry was singing, however his vocals sounded almost angelic as he sang The Christmas Song. "Jack nipping at your nose~" He looked at you. He looked at you with those fucking icy blue eyes that just sucked you in every single time. You know what he wants. How'd he get so horny so easily? Sentimental one second...

You stared at him, watching his movement. He swayed his hips as he practically made out with the mic. You felt your jeans tightened as you wanted him until you couldnt take anymore and went in. "You're such a little shit sometimes...." You growl slightly in his ear, griping his hips as you pulled him against your growing bulge. "Yeah...?" Kerry hums, adding more pressure against you. You let out a guttural moan in his ear as he started to grind against you.

"You keep doing that and im going to cum in these fuckin' pants." "We can't have that." He hums and gets down on his knees. "Not when i have a perfectly good face." "Oh youre fucking bad Ker..." You groan as he undid your pants, your cock springing free seconds before he wrapped his mouth around you. His tongue was so soft and warm...and fuck the way he sucked you off was like his life depended in it. He was so eager to please and it was working.

Kerry's eyes were half lidded and staring up at you as if he was trying to be innocent. His hand took over whatever he couldn't reach. Drool slipped down his chin as he continued to suck. "Oh fuck ker...." You thrusted slightly in his mouth causing him to gag but he didnt want you to stop. You continued to face fuck him until you felt yourself getting close.

"Fuck..Fuck ker-" You pulled out and came on his face exactly as he wanted. "Mm...amazing as usual." He smirks and licked the cum up and cleaned himself up. "Now bend over." "Really? Here?" "Yes here its your fault." You tell him annoyed and Kerry did so, happily stripping down to give you a show. "Oh you fucking slut." You slapped his ass as he bent over on the couch in the studio.

You didnt even bother prepping and just thrusted in which earned a high pitched mewl from him. "Oh fuck- dont stop please." He begs and pushed his hips back to match the rhythm of your thrusts. His moans were so whiny it was pitiful, the sadistic side wanted to taunt him about it but another side of you loved his noises. Only you could bring these noises out if him, only you, only your cock.

You let out a few grunts as his ass milked you, and suddenly he let out a loud moan arching his back as you hit his prostate. He loved how the head of cock hit it just right. "Fill me up y/n please, please!" Kerry begs and he started to fist himself. "No one can say no to you." You smirk and started to rail him a few more times before you came together. "Fuuuck!" You groaned as you filled his ass making him whine at the feeling as he made a mess on the couch.

"You made a mess." You tease and kissed him which he happily returned. Out of the corner of you eye you noticed a blinking red light. "Did...did it record all of that?" You ask him and kerry took notice as well. "Yeah...maybe i should put it on the bonus track."

[geddy-leesbian]

2 + 11 for the autumn prompts for winterserra maybe?

-winterserra

Autumn prompts

"Do you want my jacket?" + Campfires at midnight

like 1300 words both prompts covered 🦀🦀🦀

"Do you want my jacket?" Ethan asks, after Rosa is bundled up in her stroller, ready to go out. “It's not too cold, I'll be fine in my hoodie.”

“You know I don't need your clothes anymore. My own fit fine now that most of the baby weight is gone.”

“I didn't ask if you needed my jacket, I asked if you wanted it.”

“Well, in that case…” Luis tries not to sound too eager. He still feels a twinge of embarrassment when he thinks back to how clingy the pregnancy made him. He went from being stubbornly independent to a fault to being downright obsessed with Ethan. He needed to wear Ethan's clothes constantly, he needed Ethan to hold him and tell him he loved him and wasn't mad at him at least a dozen times a day, he cried if Ethan had to leave the room for more than 15 minutes. While Luis still wanted to wear his fiancé's clothes, it was no longer an intense need and the thought of asking to wear them was embarrassing. He doesn't want Ethan worrying that Luis is regressing back to that suffocating level of clinginess. “If you want me to wear your jacket, I won't object.”

“How has it not gotten through your head that I like it when you wear my clothes? I was almost living the dream that month you only wanted to wear my hoodies. I know you were miserable most of the time, that was the only bad part. I like you in my clothes even more now that you're finally feeling like yourself again.”

“Okay, okay! You win!” Luis quickly slips on Ethan's jacket. “I'll wear your jacket all night, maybe one of your tops when we go to bed. Now can we finally get going?”

“One more thing, honey,” Ethan holds Luis's hands while he talks, probably both to comfort him and make sure Luis doesn't try bolting to avoid a difficult topic. “Are you sure this is a good idea? The fire? I still feel bad about the candles I lit that made you–”

The candles that made Luis have a panic attack and run to hide under their bed, causing Ethan to have to lift the bed up after he had a few minutes to calm down because he couldn't get out from under it. Not his finest moment.

“Oh my god, do not remind me!” Luis shouts to cut Ethan off. “Look, that was a one-off. I'd just gotten back from Leon's grave so those old wounds were raw, I felt like shit physically from how pregnant I was and how much walking I did, and I felt like shit emotionally because it was the first time in my life I had felt completely helpless and vulnerable. Perfect storm of things, the candles were only able to push me over the edge because I was already having a rough time. I can handle fire fine when I'm not hanging on by a thread.”

“I don't want you just grinning and bearing something that makes you uncomfortable. You know everyone will understand if we change plans and don't do a bonfire.”

“I'll be fine, really.”

“... Okay.”

-

Ethan pushes the stroller through the yard to the clearing where their friends were waiting, Luis of course stays right by Ethan's side while they walk. Both are smiling, excited to show off their little miracle.

Claire was the only one who had already seen Rosa, having been there the day she was born. But she's brand new to Sherry and Chris. Chris does look at her for a moment, but seems awkward and unsure of what to do, so he quickly shifts his attention back to the fire he was building. Sherry is more at ease, kneeling down by the stroller to get a closer look at Rosa and fawn over how cute she is.

Ethan and Luis sit down on a fallen log serving as a makeshift bench, with the stroller within reach. Once Chris gets a lighter out, Ethan holds one of Luis's hands and wraps his arm around him. Luis really isn't bothered by the fire, but he still accepts the touch, leaning against Ethan's body. Ethan feels slightly tense against him. Those overprotective dad instincts. Every meetup involving Claire has put him on edge since that argument they'd had that led to Ethan yelling at Claire and telling her to get out. Luis had forgiven her quickly, and Ethan tried to move on, but couldn't forget that night. Ethan was still nice to Claire and didn't let his negative feelings show, but the trust he had in Claire before that was shattered and would take time to really rebuild. Luis isn't sure how he feels about it overall. He does love and trust Claire and wishes Ethan could have a similar relationship to her, but a small part of him is very attracted to how protective Ethan can be and the way he's held a grudge against Claire just for saying something that upset Luis.

Once the fire really gets going, Claire sets up some food on the table, hotdogs and marshmallows to roast, and a few things to go with them. Seemingly satisfied that Luis is okay and not going to have a panic attack, Ethan lets go of him. Luis was hungry, but so was Rosa.

“Hey, Ethan?” Luis says, reaching to get Rosa out of the stroller, and then the bottle of formula in the handle's cup holder that Ethan had prepared just before they went out, knowing she'd be hungry. “Roast some marshmallows for me while I feed her?”

“Of course.”

Ethan roasts a couple marshmallows, makes sure they've cooled enough not to burn Luis's tongue, then holds one up to his mouth.

“That was not what I had in mind,” Luis says after swallowing the last of the marshmallow. “I figured you'd just roast them and hand me the stick when I was done with Rosa. But I'm not complaining!”

Ethan continues hand feeding Luis marshmallows until Rosa finishes her bottle. Luis doesn't put her back in the stroller yet, but tells Ethan he's full and he should get himself something to eat.

The group sits around the campfire for a couple hours, laughing and talking. Claire and Sherry are just as excited about Rosa, wanting to know everything about her. Chris is quiet, but Ethan and Luis don't say anything, assuming it's most likely something he won't want to talk about.

Claire, Chris, and Sherry leave around midnight, leaving the new little family unit alone.

“It's getting late,” Ethan points out. “We should go inside.”

“A little bit longer, mi amor?” Luis pleads. “Rosa is fine, sleeping good, fire has her toasty.”

“I'm so bad at telling you no,” Ethan mutters under his breath. “I'm glad you're enjoying the fire. I was really worried it was going to upset you.”

“My relationship with fire is… Complicated. When I was really young, fire was a good thing. Fire was what kept us warm in the winter. Fire was what gave us light to read books inside. Fire was what cooked the food we ate. Then my grandfather died–” Luis pauses to collect himself, choking down a sob. “And fire was bad. It destroyed his body, destroyed our home. That was the night I left. I avoided fire after that. Then I had to go on the run from Umbrella, and hiding out back in the village was the best choice. Fire was unavoidable. The village was more modern than when I left, but still very reliant on it. I had a secret lab in the castle with no windows or electric lights. Fire was good again. By candlelight, I came up with a medication that would suppress the growth of the parasite. And then… I've told you about what happened with that lab once, I can't tell you again.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Ethan hugs Luis to try to comfort him. “I'm sorry I brought fire up again, I shouldn't have said anything that could get you talking like this.”

“It's okay,” Luis does his best to give Ethan a reassuring smile. “Like I said, it's complicated. For every horrific memory I have about fire, I have several positive memories of it. And now I have another good memory to add to the pile.”

[sapphickorro]

“Are you mad at me?”

Pairing(s) - mommy!Claire Debella x fem!little!Reader

summary: Claire’s busier than usual after some photos of you and her leak making you think that you were at fault. 

warnings: mentions/depicted bathroom sex, age play, mommy!Claire and little!Reader, pet names (baby, bunny, honey, doll), mentions of the word “prostitute,” mean men D:, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 1,152

A/N: I watched Glass Onion once and now I don’t know what to do with myself. This is the effect of Clarie Debella.

masterlist

“Mommy, I’m close.” A hand softly slaps over your mouth.

“I know baby, and you’ve gotta quiet down unless you want everyone to hear us.” Claire says as her dexterous fingers work into you.

Admittedly, having sex in a public bathroom as an elected official can do no good for the media. That didn’t stop Claire though. 

Your low cut dress made her yearn for you. She needed you and although your protests of wanting to wait till you got home made their way to her ear, she insisted on being unable to focus until she got to feel you and you just couldn’t say no to your mommy. 

When your orgasm finally comes, Claire gives you a couple seconds to calm down before quickly grabbing a napkin to tidy your makeup. She combs your hair out with her hands and stands back to look at you.

“There, good as new. Let’s get out of here before they get suspicious of us.” Claire grabs your hands and drags you outside before settling back into the party.

You wake up that morning to an empty bed. Your hand reaches to your side to be met with more pillows and blankets. You whine out trying to get Claire to hear you. After you realize that she’s not coming, you get up and drag your oversized stuffed bunny over the floor as you walk towards the living room where you hear her yelling into the phone.

You can’t make out what she’s saying but you can tell it’s not good. You tug on the bottom of her sweatshirt to successfully catch her attention.

“Excuse me for a moment.” She says into her phone before turning towards you. “Hey bunny, good morning. You wanna wait for mommy to finish this phone call before she makes breakfast?” She smiles at you, you can tell it’s strained but you don’t ask. You nod and she kisses your forehead before turning her back around you to speak with the person on the phone. 

You take this time to brush your teeth and wash your face, not used to doing it alone without your mommy in the room to watch over you. 

When you walk back out, you notice Claire watching the TV on the couch until she hears your little footsteps behind her. She turns her head and smiles at you, “What do you want for breakfast baby?” 

“Can I get some pancakes…?” You meekly say to her and she immediately stands up. “Of course hun, I’ll make you the best pancakes you’ve ever had.” She walks to the open kitchen behind the living room and starts on getting her batter ready. 

You opt to sit on the couch watching whatever channel she was watching. It certainly wasn’t as entertaining as bluey but sometimes you liked to watch the weatherman talk really fast while he predicted the areas that might rain. 

Your ears pick up as you hear Claire’s name get mentioned. “Our sources say that she isn't even a worker for Claire's political campaign. For all we know, this could be some random prostitute that Claire’s hired.” The men on the screen start laughing and you notice Claire running towards the TV remote.

“Turn that damn thing off.” The screen goes black and you stare at her face. She’s visibly upset and you weren’t sure whether she was mad at the channel or at you.

You stay quiet as she sighs and returns to the kitchen. “Your pancakes are gonna be ready soon. Why don’t you take a seat by the table.” You do what she says not wanting to worsen her mood. 

After she serves you your breakfast you notice her walk back into her office. Odd. You think. She usually sits with you while you eat to talk about your plans for the day or something menial. You leave your pancakes on the table and set the bunny in the chair you were seated at, choosing to walk to her office.

Claire’s busy typing away on her computer when you knock on her open door, alerting her of your presence. You look at her unsure what to say but she speaks up first instead. 

“Not now, baby. Mommy’s busy.” She says while rubbing her temples before returning back to typing fervently on her keyboard. 

You respond with an, “Okay,” so quiet that you’re unsure she even heard you. You lose your appetite and decide to hide under the covers of your shared bed. Tears threatening to fall as you thought you had done something wrong, perhaps that’s why your mommy had been avoiding you all day.

The knock on the door of your bedroom wakes you up. Not even realizing you had slept, you checked the digital clock on your nightstand and realized you had fallen back asleep for another hour. 

“Baby?” Claire’s head peaks through the door before smiling at your groggy figure. 

She walks in and slowly closes the door behind her. “I noticed you didn’t eat your breakfast.” 

She pulls out your stuffed bunny from behind her back and hands it to you, “And, you left Señor Scratchy all alone sitting at the table.” You hold your hands out to cuddle into the soft material.

“What’s wrong doll.” She says caressing your face. “Are you mad at me?” You whisper out.

She exaggerates a gasp, “Why would you ever think that baby?” 

“Because, I woke up alone and you got all mad earlier while you were in the kitchen. Then, you didn’t sit with me during breakfast like usual.” Tears start to build in your eyes again. She’s quick to wipe the falling tears and coos at you.

“Oh bunny, I’m so sorry you thought that. I wasn’t mad at you, I was mad at everyone else.” She says giving you a quick peck on the nose. 

“Why?”

She sighs, unsure of how to answer your question. “There’s photos of us entering and leaving the bathroom together at that party, the leaving photos have your hair and makeup messier than when entering. I guess the internet blew up thinking something happened. Well, something did happen but they don’t know that.” She corrects herself. 

“I’m sorry, mommy.” You whisper at her feeling upset that you’ve probably smeared her name because of this scandal. “Oh no, no, no. None of this is your fault. Don’t be sorry for anything.” Claire starts to pepper kisses all across your face causing you to giggle. 

“Okay, how about we order some pancakes this time and maybe we can talk about getting Señor Scratchy a sibling.” She grabs your hands and tugs you up off the bed to lead you back out into the dining room. 

You beam at her, “Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” She kisses you softly, just glad to see that her sweet baby is smiling again. 

[welldonebeca]

Baby Jack's The Girl (2)

Summary: When he notices Claire misses being a child, Jack decides to gift her the opportunity of being little again. WC: 1.2k words Warnings: Fluff. Domestic Winchesters. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Age regression.

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Masterlist

Jack got up before his dads came to wake him up, a little bigger but still middling, and full of determination as he crossed the corridor and knocked on Claire's door.

He didn't hear anything but a grumble in response.

"Claire?" he tried to call her.

No response.

Had she left? He hadn't heard anything.

"I'm coming in," Jack decided.

He pushed the door open, and saw a large lump under the blankets of Claire’s bed, all curled up.

“Go away,” it grunted.

It was probably Claire. That was her voice, anyway.

So Jack walked over to her, sitting beside her bed, and sighed.

“Claire. I’m sorry.,” he spoke softly. “I shouldn’t have made you upset.”

She peeked from her blanked slowly, peeking at him, and he could see her eyeliner had smudged all over her face.

“It’s not your fault,” she mumbled. “It’s mine, for being all messed up.”

That didn’t make Jack feel any better.

Claire sat up completely, and shook her head, rubbing her hands on her face.

“I used to be so jealous of you, I wanted to hate you… I still do,” she confessed, eyes welling up. “And now you have a chance to be a kid, with parents who love you and won’t leave you!”

Jack knew a lot about Claire.

She was Papa’s vessel’s daughter, but her dad had given his body up - almost the way his mother had done - so papa could live amongst humans and protect them.

She was just a little kid when it happened, and it had hurt her very deeply.

Jack understood what it was like to hurt so much. They were alike in many ways, so, maybe, there was a solution.

“What if I could help you?” he suggested.

Claire turned to him with a confused face.

“What do you mean?”

He leant closer to her.

That was so hard to explain.

“Just trust me, okay?” he asked her.

She explored his face with her eyes, unsure, and finally nodded.

“Fine,” Claire accepted.

Jack touched her face gently with both his hands and felt his eyes glowing before Claire was engulfed with light, growing smaller and smaller, until she stopped, and while he didn’t know how old she was, he had a guest that it was when things went wrong.

When Papa came to the world, and she didn’t feel like a kid anymore.

Her mouth fell open in shock, and Jack watched as Claire took her hands to her head and her shoulders, touching her skin in pure confused.

“What?” she hissed.

“I know it’s weird, but it feels right, doesn't it?” he asked. “Maybe we can go to my room and I can show you-”

But before he continued, her eye welled up and her lips, trembled, and he stopped himself.

“I can make you big again,” he said quickly. “I can! I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

But she just wailed more.

“Daddy!” she sobbed.

Jack stared in horror. Oh, no, no, no! He wanted to make things better, and he made it worse!

Oh, no, what could he do?!

And all his body could do was cry with her, wailing and sobbing, scared.

When he opened his eyes, daddy was already rushing inside, and stopped frozen in shock when he saw them.

“Cas,” he called loudly. “I need you here.”

Daddy walked over to them and knelt in front of Jack, holding his hand.

“Baby boy, what happened?” he asked softly.

He panted, looking for words but not able to say anything, and just cried more.

When papa walked into the room, he stopped and looked at Jack, and then at Claire, and she seemed to noticed, because she cried more.

“Daddy,” she sobbed.

She got up from the bed and ran in his direction, and hugged his legs while papa looked completely confused, picking her up after a second of hesitation.

Claire held him tight, face hid in his shoulder and cries muffled by his shirt.

Daddy quickly scooped him up too, and he felt himself calming down. Or getting tired.

He wasn’t sure which was right, but he didn’t want to cry that much anymore.

“What do we do?” daddy asked, confused.

“We should hydrate them,” papa patted her back. “They’ll be thirsty soon."

Soon they were in the kitchen, and daddy quickly got him his sip cup, holding it as he drank cool water, and papa did the same with her.

Now that he was calmer, Jack could see how different Claire looked. Her hair was straight now, not curly, and all tangled from sleep, and she looked more… peaceful, of sorts?

She looked a lot like papa, too. He had never realised that before.

“Holy shit,” he heard, and turned to see uncle Dean frozen at the door. “They are multiplying.”

Jack hid his face in daddy’s neck, giggling, and felt his lips on his temple.

“There you go,” he rubbed his back gently.

Claire seemed to be snapped out of her crying state, and he watched as she squirmed off of papa’s arms and ran into uncle Dean’s arms, not saying anything as she hid in his neck too, and he stared at daddy with wide eyes.

“It’s Claire,” Jack confessed.

“I figured,” papa pet his hair gently. “But why is she this small?”

He looked away, hesitant, and played with his own hands, a little embarrassed.

“She was sad,” he told them. “And she said she couldn’t be a kid, so I did what I do. And… she is a kid.”

Papa and daddy exchanged looks, and he pouted.

“I thought it would make her happy,” Jack mumbled.

“Oh, sweetie,” daddy sighed, rubbing circles on his back.

Papa didn’t say anything, and Uncle Dean shook his head.

“Jack, you can’t just transform people into kids without asking them,” he scolded him, holding Claire tight. “Look at her, she is terrified!”

Jack gasped at his loud voice, hiding in Sam’s shirt.

“Dean,” papa stepped to him. “Do not raise your voice”

“Hey, no. The kid knows better,” he argued. “What if he can’t turn her back?”

“We’ll figure it out,” papa answered, firm. “But right now they’re both very upset, so we need to take care of them first.”

But he could turn her back! It was just like he did it with himself!

And yet, Jack couldn’t say it. He felt as if talking would make him cry again, so he drank his water.

“Fine,” Dean sighed, and took a hand to Claire’s hair, petting it a bit, trying to make her look at him. “Hey, Claire-bear. Let’s get air, why don’t we?”

She squeezed him tighter, and daddy sighed.

“That will be good for the kids,” he agreed. “Do you two want to have special breakfast, uh?”

Claire moved in his arms, mumbling something he couldn’t quite catch, and uncle Dean smiled a bit.

“Yes, sweetheart, we can go there.”

Jack, however, was too perked on the special breakfast part.

"There is a diner in town," uncle Dean told them. "So, how about we get our breakfast there?"

Jack looked up at him, now fully interested, though a bit nervous. He felt so small, and being around a lot of people was scary.

Daddy turned to look at his brother.

"We should get dressed up," he suggested. "I'm pretty sure we have something her size in Jack's room."

Uncle Dean scoffed.

"Sammy, I know you like playing dress-up with Jack, but Claire is fine."

Daddy didn't look any happy with that.

"She is wearing jeans, Dean. Ripped up and not soft at all. That can't be comfortable!"

Uncle Dean sighed.

"Fine," he decided. "Come on, Claire. Let's play dress up with Uncle Sammy."

. . .

"The Boy" is part of The Baby Jack Series and was posted on Patreon on April 2023. To read it and the two sequels, "The Girl" and "The Flu", consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

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[tonberry-yoda]

Write for Leon Scott Kennedy coward 😳

The End - Leon Scott Kennedy

notes - THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR MAKING MY BRAINROT WORSE! You get a long fic now tee hee. This was so satisfying to write tbh. I loved RE2 and love Leon, so I was very happy to write this <333

word count - 2,756

WARNINGS - blood, SPOILERS FOR RE2, not proofread lolol

Wounds from Lickers, Zombies, spare glass shards, and god only knows what covered your body. You looked like a wreck who was tired and a little dead inside, but it was over. You made it out of that hellhole they called Raccoon City and were now onto a new, and hopefully better life.

"I could really use a shower," Claire laughed, picking a stick out of Sherry's hair.

"Tell me about it." You agreed, wiping what you couldn't tell was dirt or sewage off of your shoulder. You felt disgusting, but you knew that whenever you got to a shower that it was going to be the best shower of all time.

You and Claire were lucky you could still be laughing and smiling after everything that happened. And Leon... well, he had been through hell and back with it being his first day as a cop and all. You felt bad for him. He went through loss after loss and you had no clue what to say.

He was sitting in the corner of the train cart, crying. You wanted more than anything to go cheer him up or something, but how on Earth were you supposed to do that.

Apparently though, Claire saw that you were eyeing the crying cop and nudged your arm with her elbow, signaling that you should probably go talk to him. She and Sherry decided to head to another cart to look around a bit.

You took a deep breath and walked over to the blonde boy, putting your hand on his back. "You were very brave out there," you told him in a soft voice, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

He looked up at you a little shocked, tears staining his puffy red eyes. "No way. If anything you were the bravest here. Me and Claire were kinda prepared for anything, but you? You were just living life and got sucked into this shit."

"But I'm okay now. And you're okay! We did great out there!"

Leon just nodded and stared off into space, little tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You asked.

Leon turned to you again. Seeing him cry was about to make you cry.

"It's my fault she's gone."

"Who? Ada?" You had stuck with Leon his whole mission helping him through stupid puzzles and beating the shit out of psycho dogs. Ada was someone you met on the mission and immediately got a bad vibe from. You knew she wasn't FBI when you met her, you just didn't have the heart to tell Leon. He really seemed to like that girl. And it didn't matter how jealous you were in the little tram where she kissed him.

Leon nodded, tears welling back up in his eyes. "I could've pulled her up if I didn't get so hurt. She's gone now... because of me."

You put your hand on Leon's back. "Leon, look, she was a crazy mercenary, there's a huge, like GIANT chance that she's okay. She probably had a grappling hook in her bra or something."

That actually made Leon laugh a bit, which surprised you. "How's your arm?" You asked, wanting to quickly change the subject.

"Better." He stretched out his arm, which took some work, but he barely winced.

"Good!" You smiled and gave Leon one more check over to make sure he wasn't in any more need for medical attention. "It looks way better!"

"Yeah, well injuries always look better than they feel." Leon chuckled and sat back to be more comfortable. None of you knew where this train was going to lead, but you were just happy to know that you would be out of that awful town.

"You're really strong, you know that?" Leon told you.

You were shocked to hear that if you were being honest, so you turned to Leon with red cheeks. "Where did that come from?"

"I mean, I already explained it earlier, come on! You've been through a lot with me. Thanks for that."

You just nodded, still thinking about Ada. You were never the jealous type, but all of the sudden you were and it was pissing you off. I mean, you couldn't blame all the ladies around you for liking Leon as much as you did because oh my god, he was perfect. He wanted to protect everyone, was kind, empathetic, and cute as fuck. He was everything anyone wanted in a partner and you were just mad that Ada got her hands on him first.

"I can't wait to get some nice clean clothes." Leon sighed, pulling you out of your mind.

"Right?!" Even thinking about the warm embrace of a blanket was making you cozy, but clean clothes? That sounded like heaven right then.

"I found a crap ton of money at the station and that should be enough to get us a couple of hotel rooms and some clean clothes until we find something better." Leon pulled out wads of cash and your jaw dropped. You knew that some of the zombies would have cash on them and you had to admit, you did take some, but you weren't expecting Leon, the cute cuddly rookie, to take any.

"Leon, did you steal that?!"

His face flushed bright red. "I-I.... They.... I just.... We needed it and uh...."

"I'm just playing with you, Kennedy." You playfully slapped his back and he cleared his throat, a little embarrassed.

"Hey guys?" Claire stuck her head back into the cart with a smile. "Sorry if I'm interrupting your flirting, but it looks like we're about to come to a stop. Looks like we're outside of Raccoon City too!"

You laughed at Claire and turned to fine Leon blushing, which made you blush too. "Alright, we'll get prepared."

"You better," Claire winked. "Because clean clothes and a bed sound like heaven itself."

The train came to a halt in an unknown area, but when you got off of the train, the world looked happy again. It was no longer the dead of night and was now early morning, where the air smelled fresh and you could hear birds chirping. It was fantastic and you didn't mind the tears that were rolling down your cheeks. The train took off behind all of you with a loud whoosh and you were now somewhere new, hoping that you wouldn't hear anymore zombies.

"Come on you guys!!!" Claire ran off to a city that was off in the distance, grabbing Sherry's hand. "Let's go!! Are you seriously gonna wait all day?!"

You and Leon looked at each other with a smile and ran after Claire to the city. Stepping in there any other day would probably be hell, with people cussing each other out and pushing each other around, but when all of you stepped in there, it was amazing. There were living breathing humans just doing their every day normal routines. It was like everything was back to normal.

You clung to Leon's arm and smiled. "Leon, can you believe it?"

He was smiling like an idiot before running into some random Target. People were looking at you like you were crazy, while others whispered about hearing what happened in Raccoon City, surprised there were survivors.

You didn't care either way, it's not like you were paying attention. Instead, you just grabbed everything you needed. Water, food, underwear, shoes, socks, clothes, normal everyday items that would be so regular to everyone, but seemed like jewels and riches to you.

You walked up to Leon with a stacked cart and a smile. "I'm about ready to check out!"

Leon looked at your stack with wide eyes. "Damn, you really went ham down those aisles, huh?"

You nodded. "I'm just thankful I had a crap ton in my savings so you don't have to pay for any of it. Thank god they have an ATM here."

"Oh, awesome!" Leon was looking at a few shirts and you pulled one off of it's hanger, handing it to him.

"You would look good in this. I'll meet you outside, okay? Tell Claire the same!"

Waiting outside in a Target parking lot wasn't ideal, but it felt heavenly out, so you weren't mad in the slightest. Honestly, you didn't care at all that you looked pathetic, you were just happy this wasn't Raccoon City.

Claire quickly ran out of the Target with her arm in Sherry's. "Let's go get that hotel room!!!" She quickly darted off and Leon ran out of the Target, limping.

"Dammit, Claire, hold on!!"

You grabbed onto Leon's arm and chuckled. "She's fine, Leon. We'll catch up. She pointed at the hotel she wants to stay in, and it's not too far off. I'm just glad she has the energy to take care of that kid right now."

Leon nodded. "Same. I can barely walk without feeling like I'm going to pass out."

You and Leon walked to the hotel, laughing about the memories you had of Mr. X trying to follow you around. Even though those scared the shit out of you in the moment, you couldn't help but laugh now.

The hotel was nice. It was bright white and covered in fancy red carpets. You looked like a bunch of homeless people.... well, you guessed you were now.

"Me and Sherry are gonna share a room," Claire said, grabbing both sides of the girls shoulders.

"Then I guess that means y/n and I will have separate rooms. I'll go pay."

Your heart dropped and immediate panic filled your body.

"W-Wait." You pulled Leon off to the side, your heart pounding for some reason.

"What's wrong?" Leon looked at you with concern and held your shoulders.

"I... Can we share a room?" You looked up at him and he smiled.

"Of course."

"I just don't know if I can sleep alone after all that and we've already been through so mu-"

Leon placed his index finger on your lips and giggled. "I don't need an excuse from you, y/n. I understand."

You waited eagerly and patiently for Leon to get each of your rooms.

"I'm gonna shower so hard, you don't even understand." Claire said, stretching, each of her bones making a small pop sound.

"Me too." You sighed, imagining the warm water running down your back.

"Here's your key, Claire. Don't lose it."

Claire snorted. "As if. Of course I'm not gonna lose it. Let's go Sherry!" They ran up the stairs, getting odd looks from other patrons and staff, but they didn't seem to care.

"You ready, y/n?"

You nodded, taking the elevator with Leon.

"I'm so glad that's over." He smiled, clicking the elevator button.

"Me too."

"I still can't believe how amazing you were back there." Leon gave you a little pat on the back.

"Well, for it being your first day, Kennedy, I'd say you killed it."

"Literally."

You both burst out into laughter. You were surprised you could still do that, but very happy about it.

"You're amazing, Leon." You set down your target bag on the elevator floor and pulled him into your arms.

He sighed, tickling your neck a bit and held you by your waist. "You're amazing."

The elevator dinged, interrupting your hug, but you couldn't help but bolt out of there and down the long hallways.

"You're going the wrong way, y/n!" Leon called out, pointing down the other end of the hall.

"Which room is it?" Before Leon could answer, you glanced at the key and took off, finding the room rather quickly. You waited like an impatient puppy and bobbed up and down as Leon opened the door.

Leon opened the door to a nice clean room that smelled slightly perfumey, but much better than rotting zombie.

As you were searching the room, you were satisfied with everything. It was cozy, roomy, had a TV, a clean bathroom, and...

"Leon?"

"Yeah?" Leon was already quick to unpack his stuff, and stuffed his mouth with chips.

"There's only one bed."

His face flushed pink. "Y-Yeah... I.... I thought it would be nice." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look.... I don't want to be that far from you, okay? I don't know why. I still feel like I have to protect you and-" You interrupted him by placing your index finger on his lips this time.

"I don't need an excuse, Leon. I really don't mind. Now, I'm gonna take a quick shower. Sorry you gotta stay musty for a little while longer."

"Eh, it's fine. It'll make the shower more worth it."

Worth it was definitely the right words to use. When you stepped into the shower, ignoring the dark red that poured off of you and the black water that formed at your feet, it was really heaven. It was the best shower you had ever taken, and you have never felt so clean in your entire life.

When you stepped out, you immediately tossed out your old clothes and put on something fresh and some pajamas that made you feel cute. It didn't really matter since you were about to pass out soon, but feeling nice was something you enjoyed and something you actually needed after all of that.

You stepped out of the bathroom and chugged some water, not even noticing that Leon had run straight past you to take a shower himself. He really deserved it though, so you didn't blame him.

You laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. What a goddamn day. You really couldn't believe you survived all of that. It was a shit show, and for a while, before you met Leon, you didn't have anything but a metal pipe to beat the zombies off with. If not for that rookie cop, you wouldn't be here right now.

You were more thankful than he could ever know.

"Holy shit," Leon stepped out of the bathroom, drying off his hair with a little towel, in a giant shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. "That was the best shower ever."

You sat up with a smile. "Wasn't it?!"

Leon smiled when he saw you, throwing down the mini towel on a nearby table before jumping on the bed next to you. "You know," he told you, getting comfortable on the bed. "You're actually really cute not covered in blood. Wait, that came out wrong... You were cute with the blood... but uh.... shit, I messed up, can I restart?"

You giggled. "Go ahead. Restart."

"You know," Leon looked at you with the most loving smile ever. "You're really cute."

You blushed. "Says the cutest guy in the world."

"Aw, shucks, you don't mean that, do you?"

"Of course I mean that, Leon."

He smiled at you and pulled you into his arms, laying back with you on the bed. "I'm glad I found you out there." He said softly.

"I'm glad you found me."

You two sat in silence for a while, just laying in each other's arms. After being through all of that, you didn't realize how sore you were and only now was it kicking in. But thank god you had a bed.

Breaking the silence, Leon wrapped his arms around you tighter. "I never want to let you go, y/n." He whispered in your ear, placing a kiss on the lobe.

"But...." You hated yourself for asking this. "What about Ada?"

"What about her?" Leon sat up a bit, letting go of you.

"I.... You two kissed. It seemed like you really liked her."

"Ada kissed me," Leon reminded you. "We weren't that close. I knew you for longer, even if it was a couple of hours. Plus, Ada betrayed us. She was using me. You, y/n, you really care about me. I just want to protect you.... at all costs. If you'll let me."

You cupped Leon's face in your hands and smiled. "Of course I'll let you. But know I want to protect you every now and again."

Leon couldn't help himself, he pushed forward and planted his lips onto yours, pushing you right down on the bed. You quickly smiled into the kiss and pulled him closer until he was right on top of you.

He placed kiss after kiss after kiss onto you until you both passed out, snoring.

You didn't care what was ahead. As long as you had Leon, you would be fine.

~~~~~

resident evil masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[m323200]

4x05: Flight or Fight

photo is perfect for this part

——

THE LONG AWAITED PART IS HERE!!

Find out what happens to Luke and Isabella.

WARNINGS: ABUSE, VIOLENCE, BLOOD.

MAY BE THE LONGEST AND BEST PART I EVER MADE

ALSO MY SISTER WROTE THIS. To me I think she did this good. She wanted to make this part based off an episode of her favorite show.

Enjoy

———

HALEY POV

I found a body outside the house, it was Luke. I called 9-1-1, "I have a male who's 19-20 with multiple stab wounds to his torso. Need medical and police response.", that's what Dylan told me to say. The person said, "Okay, ma'am, can I get your name?" 

I said, "Haley Dunphy. I'm his brother.". The dispatcher had a familiar voice, but I knew who it was, my old friend. "Stacy?". Dylan took over the phone, "He's got profuse bleeding to his abdomen. Breathing is labored. Might have hit a lung.".

I kept crying. I held his hand and helped Dylan by stopping the blood. Stacy said that the RA unit's two minutes out. I kept panicking and thinking if he would be alive. 

Stacy asked, "Do you know how this happened? How long has he been down?". Me and Dylan didn't know. We had just gotten here. 

Dylan said it looked like he was bleeding out for minutes. Stacy told us, "How's his pulse?". Dylan looks for a pulse. It was weak, but there. "Brian...", he talked but not a lot. 

I told Stacy that he's talking. I said to Luke, "It's okay...I'm here, okay? Just stay with us Luke". Luke said, "Isabella...". Sirens were approaching close as it gets louder. 

I asked him, "Where is she? Where's Isabella, Luke?". The paramedics came, "We got it, guys.". I ran inside the house, "Isabella! Isabella! Dylan look upstairs!". 

He ran upstairs and we both called out her name. I found something, "Shit..." Stacy asked, "Haley? What is it? What did you find?". 

I told them her stuff was all here, her phone, wallet, keys. Stacy put out an alert, "All units be advised, we also have a critical missing 19 year old female: Isabella Wheeler."

2 Years Ago

ISABELLA's POV

Before The Incident and After The Hollywood Murders

Brian yelled, "Hey babe! Look at this!". I came running in seeing if everything was good or bad. He pulled up a rare wine bottle. "Happy Birthday to my one and only precious diamond. Now let's celebrate!". We kissed.

We danced to the music. He danced. He pulled me to dance. I got excited. He then spin me around and I accidentally knocked over the wine bottle and glass cups. I panicked. He said, "That's okay. People made mistakes. But why can't you ever learn.". He then punched me.

Present Day

Brian yelled at me after he punch me, "Damn it, Isabella! This is your fault. I said you can't leave me no matter what. I warned you. But this happens when you don't listen." I kept crying with tears. I asked, "Is he dead?". He told me if he's not, he's not our problem anymore.

I tell him that he's a good man, that he wouldn't hurt anyone. Brian said he want to hurt him. That they were friends. I got confused. He said, "If you'd have just stayed-", I interrupted, "Brian, how long have you been here?". 

He said he needed to make sure I was safe, "I saw you with your family, I thought, all right, fine. She needs some time, just give her some space. She always comes home. Then I saw you with Luke in that house, holding hands, kissing...I knew... I knew I waited too long.". I tell him it's not too late. He said that he killed someone for me and there's no going back for both of us.

Jay and the whole family besides Claire, Haley, and Dylan. Mitchell, "I got here as fast as I could. How's he doing?". Jay said he's alive, but got stabbed bad. Alex asked if he's in surgery. Gloria said he lost a lot of blood. As soon as he's ready, they'll prep him for surgery. They wonder who would do that. 

HALEY'S POV

I said with confidence, "It was Brian. Isabella told me that if she left him he would kill her. He did this.". The cop investigator said, "You said he lives in Pennsylvania. He knows she was here?" I sorta said, "No, she-she...". Claire's cop friend, Emma, said that she was filing for divorce and that could've put her on his radar. They said they'll take a look at him. 

I told them, "Wait, detective. Luke said he had a new friend, some guy he was... he was gambling with. I never met him, but now I know why, you know, 'cause it was Brian. He got close to Luke so that he could get close to Isabella.". I looked at their faces, it looked like they didn't believe me and thought I was going crazy. 

I tell them to check his phone. They said they can't open it without the victim's consent. That's bullshit. Emma said that they'll go through his phone records, but it'll take time.

I yelled, "Isabella don't have time! Brian did this! He could've killed Luke and he could maybe kill her next...". Claire told me, "But he didn't. Haley, may-maybe you're right. It's Brian. And he found out where Isabella was, and he came here, and he hurt Luke, but look it. 

Dylan said, "No body. Only Luke's blood. If he wanted to kill her, we would've seen her, but we didn't. She is alive when he took her, and that's what we're gonna hold onto right now."

I asked if I could change into a fresh pair of clothes that mines are covered in some blood. They tell me not to touch anything. The detective tells Emma, Claire, and Dylan, that someone has to prepare me. 

Emma said, "We're not there yet.". Claire thought, "You don't think you're gonna find her alive." They said in these scenarios, they don't end good. I asked, "Can one of you guys drive me to the hospital, I wanna see Luke.".

Dylan said he'll take me. Emma said to Claire, "We found a camera across the street caught a man forcing her into his car. All we got is a four-door sedan, dark in color. Doesn't exactly narrow the search.". Claire looked, "Where's Luke's phone?".

Emma came out with Claire and two cops. Claire said "You know, they didn't believe me. They said no one is stupid enough to steal that phone. I said, "You don't know Haley.". 

Alex told me that was a dumb move, but smart how she got the phone with no one noticing. I told Alex, "I told Isabella...that...she didn't need to keep on running, that she could start over here, that she would be safe. That I, we would keep her safe.". Alex said not to blame me. That it could've happened either way. 

Emma said, "I spoke with detective. He's not happy with you. You unlocked Luke's phone without his permission. He can't use any of it.". I had apologized. 

She said the car's out front. I was confused if they're arresting me. They said no, but there's a countdown.  I asked where, Emma said, "To find Isabella. This phone is how we find them.". 

Claire ran to me to tell me the rules. The rules were don't go out of sight, lie, withhold any information from her, don't break the law again, and don't do something I would do that'll force her into early retirement. I promised that I would bring her home.

ISABELLA'S POV

Brian said, "Come on where is it...". I tell him to kill me already. I guessed that was his plan. He told me that wasn't the plan. That I was the love of his life and he can't imagine his life without me. The destination was found.

HALEY'S POV

Me and Emma went to where Stacy works. I hugged Stacy and saying it's been awhile. They asked how we could help. Emma thought of something.

ISABELLA'S POV

I needed to get out of the car. I found paper. I stuffed it in my pockets. I eventually found a way to get out. Brian saw me, "Hey, where you going?". 

I said I needed to pee and that there's no where to go. He uncuffed me with his knife. Tells me to keep my head down. 

We went in and we asked the cashier if there's a restroom I could use. He said it's in the back. I grabbed the key and a pen. 

He asked if we were vacationing? Brian said we were on a road trip. Meanwhile, I was in the restroom writing the car plate. He knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. 

I told him yeah. He pounded on the door on telling to hurry up. I open up the window, it felt like it was stuck. He keeps pounding on the door and telling me, "Let's go Isabella.". 

I opened the window and jumped out the window. Brian yelled, "Isabella!". I ran but he got me. I struggled to get loose. 

He said, "You're always running. Aren't you tired by now? I sure am tired of chasing you.". I tell him to let me go. The cashier came out with a gun telling him to let me go. 

He says he got it wrong. Brian attacks him, the gun went off. He got the gun at his stomach and shoots him. I screamed. 

I went up to him and tried to make sure not a lot of blood came out. I told the cashier to stay with me and that I would call 9-1-1, but Brian shot him in the head. 

I panicked and cried. He said, "No one's saving anyone now. Let's go. Let's go.". I kept crying and saying softly, "No! no!"

HALEY'S POV

Emma said, "Marcus it's Emma. Listen, you're gonna get a call from Stacy at dispatch. She might have a lead on Brian's location and let's call this an anonymous tip." 

Detective Marcus said that they'll meet us there. She ended the call. Emma noticed I'm quiet. I was worried I'd find Isabella's body there because he almost killed Luke and could kill her next. 

Emma said, "Isabella didn't just restart her life. She rebuilt herself. You guys did that, with love, support, and family. Brian may have her, but I don't think he has any idea who he's dealing with now.". 

ISABELLA'S POV

We were still on the road. A siren was heard, it was a cop. He hid the gun under his leg just in case. The cop car passed by. 

I told him that we need to get off the road, but yelled at me to shut up. I told him there were cameras and wheat could happen when they find the dead cashier. 

Brian yelled at me, "Do you think this was my fault?". I told him it was mine. He said that's what happens when I run away, people gets hurt. 

He thinks that I know he's an idiot but I called him a dipshit mother fucker. He grabbed my hair hard. It hurt. He said, "You were being honest, but I don't respect the name you called me.". 

I told him we needed to figure out where we were going. He said that he'll figure it out. 

I told him, "The longer we are on this road, the more likely it is that we get pulled over, and we both know how that ends.". 

He asked me on what we should do. I told him that I found vacation homes back there and it's probably empty. 

He does a U turn and drives there. I panicked and was filled with sadness and stress. All I hope was that Luke was okay.

ALEX'S POV

Luke had finally waken up, "Welcome back idiot, We were worried all about you.". He said he wasn't worried. 

I told him he's thinking he's invincible. Joe said, "Like a superhero?". I told him, "Yeah. Just like a superhero.". 

Jay said, "Okay, buddy. Let's let Luke rest. We can visit him later.". Joe waved bye. Jay told him to have a good rest. Luke asked, "Where's Isabella?".

HALEY'S POV

A truck driver said, "It's not my phone. I don't know where it came from.". The detective said he found the phone, but no signs of them. 

I questioned him on why he has the phone. He said he'd been on the road ever since and had no clue on how the phone ended up in his truck. Emma asked, "Sir, you make any stops?". 

He said he went to a gas station before sunrise. I asked if he saw anyone. He saw a couple going into the store. Emma said that he knew that we could use the phone to track him and that he threw the phone in the truck just to throw us off. 

I said, "So they could be anywhere by now.". Emma made sure I didn't get stressed or worried a lot. I just focused on one thing, finding Isabella.

ALEX'S POV

Evan and Alex sat down together seeing Joe and Lily played along with Joshua who's grown up. Evan said, "I don't think I brought enough.". I told him he didn't need to bring anything. Evan was worried about Haley and Isabella. 

I told him to just pray on it and that they will come back alive. Evan thought that he didn't do enough to protect Isabella and that she protected them from making sure they don't go with their parents and he could've done something to protect her. I told him, "Isabella is a fighter, she always fights to survive.". 

HALEY'S POV

We were at the gas station. Emma said, "Our best guess is that she climbs out the back window, Brian catches her.". The detective said that the cashier saw something wrong and helps her, gets shot with his own gun. 

We all guessed tha he thought he could handle it on his own. One of the officers found a paper. Emma said, "It's a rental car agreement for a dark gray, four-door sedan.". 

The detective think that she started to write the license plate on the back. It was rented near Burbank Airport. They said they would put out an APB. 

I asked if we can use that to track him. Emma said that rental car companies don't use GPS tracking because "it's too expensive.". All I know is that Emma is a great cop and that she always finishes the job.

ISABELLA'S POV

We were at a cabin. Brian had kicked open the door. I told that he was lucky there wasn't an alarm. He told me "Why do you think I cut the phone line?". I said so I couldn't call for help. He said "That too". 

He said he'll try to make us a fire. I told him, "I'll see if I can get some food.". He didn't want me in the kitchen because that's where the sharp things are at. He made me sit down.

———

ONE YEAR AGO

 I started to reflect back to the past with what happened to me with staying with Brian. It was a fucking nightmare. There was a time when our neighbors asked if everything was okay.

I opened the door for them and found out it was our neighbors, Benny and Laura. "Hi. How can I help you?". Laura said they heard some yelling and it sounded like a fight. I told them that everything was fine and that it must have been a mistake. Benny said, "It's a warm night for a sweater.". 

I told them that everything was fine. Laura asked if I was okay. Brian said, "Hey, babe, everything okay? Benny. Laura. Hi. What's going on?". Benny said that there were reports of some cars being broken into in the neighborhood. They were just checking if we heard or seen anything. Brian felt bad. I said, "Yeah, I was just saying that we, um, we didn't hear anything.". 

Brian said that we'll take a lookout for anything suspicious and then later left. Laura said, "I get you're scared of what he'll do if you run, but you need to think about what he's gonna do if you stay.".

———

PRESENT DAY

"We can be happy again. A fresh start in a new place. Sure we would need new names and become new people. Not just to the world, but to each other. And you'll forgive me and love me again. I know it.", Brian said. 

I told him, "Your right...I always found a way to forgive you. One way or another...". I grabbed the fireplace poker secretly. Brian said that we could try again and to start now, but I had other plans. 

I hit him in the eyebrow and I had hit him so hard that he bled a lot. I panicked and kept thinking and saying, "Oh, my God". I ran out the cabin and ran away. Brian yelled, "ISABELLA!". He fired the gun at me. He missed. I screamed in panic. He yelled my name once more. Shot at me again, missed again. He started to follow me. 

———

ALEX'S POV

Luke thinks that he was an idiot. He said, "I'm the one who put her in danger. He played with me the whole time just to get to her.". I told him it wasn't his fault nor hers and that everything would be fine. He asked if he was gonna kill her. I didn't know, I didn't know what to say or to express it. I just stayed silent...

———

ISABELLA'S POV

I kept running through the snow, through the trees, and through the cold air. I was running out of breath, but I was determined to run as far as I can away from him. I could hear him yelling my name. I could hear it echo from here. 

He says I can't run long, but I then stopped. I looked down and saw my footprints. I must've left my prints since I laid my foot on the snow. I keep hearing his voice inside my head and I can't get it out.

———

HALEY'S POV

I could hear the sirens. I heard one of the offices saying they had found the rental car, but no signs of them. The detective said, "We found the kidnapper's abandoned vehicle nearby, so we're looking for a couple. They, uh, may have come in earlier looking for a last-minute rental.". The owner of the cabins saying no one has been it and that it's been quiet. I asked how many listings are there. She said 300. Not a good sign.

———

ISABELLA'S POV

I could hear Brian. I was behind the tree. He found out that there was no more footprints. "You backtracking bitch.", he said. I then hit him in the back of the head with the fireplace poker. He fell straight to the ground. I ran away. He shot at me, but missed. He shot again, then missed again. I ran back. 

He tried to shoot again, but there was no more ammo. He grabbed a pocketknife out his pocket, the knife part was out. "I'm not running.", I yelled. I hit him again and he fell down. I raised it up, but before I could hit him, he scratched my leg with the knife. I was in pain. 

He crawled and climbed up to me. I tried to stop him and move, but my hand was on my leg where the cut was. He held the knife up and stabbed me on the side. I screamed. I then found something to throw the knife away. And I did. The knife flew away, but I tried to crawl to it. 

Brian then grabbed my legs to pull him towards me. I tried to grabbed the knife, but as soon as he climbed on me, I kicked him in the face. He quickly came back and tried to hold me down. I then hit him, but then he punched me. I screamed again. 

I was in big pain. He then crawled to the knife and officially grabbed it. I then grabbed him while he had the knife, then I bit him in the wrist. He groaned in pain. I then grabbed the knife and once he came up to me, There was no choice to do this, I stabbed him in the shoulder and in the back repetitively. 

I kept sobbing as I stabbed him.

 I then pulled his body off of me. I could hear him cough out and gurgle blood. There was nothing for me to do. I felt weak. Too weak. I couldn't feel a thing, my vision was blurry. I could hear bird cawing in the distant. I closed my eyes slowly and knew this was the end for me...

———

ONE YEAR AGO

Brian said as I closed the door, "You don't have to lie to me. I know what they said. What they all say. They want you to leave me. They should understand that we're meant to be together. We're meant to live together, to grow old together and die together. That's how this story ends.

PRESENT DAY

ISABELLA'S POV

I woke up. I could still feel the pain. My vision was still blurry. I got up, panting and groaning.

This wasn't the end, not for me at least.

HALEY'S POV

The detective is saying that the local sheriff got a report of gunshots. Emma said that the rental manager notified her that all the lake cabins are vacant. 

They knew someone was here and left in a hurry. I asked, "It's got to be them, right?". It wasn't sure. We're wondering now is which way did they go? 

Detective said, "They're sending more officers. Search and rescue's on its way. Choppers, dogs.". Emma knew it was gonna be a full-court press. An officer said, "I got blood out here!". I yelled and ran quickly, well I tried to run. I was yelling Isabella's name.

ISABELLA'S POV

I was carefully walking back towards the cabin. I slipped, but I didn't fully fell. I felt like I could see someone, someone who was rushing towards me. My sight was still blurry. I heard my name be shout. I thought it was Haley, or I think it is. It was her. She yelled my name and I yelled hers. I rushed to her as she rushed to me. I hugged her, then we were on the floor hugging. She was happy that I was alive. I told her while crying, "I didn't give up. I... I didn't give up.". She still was hugging me and I was hugging her still.

EMMA'S POV

The detective said that he never seen red snow and that it's a miracle she made it out alive. I told him, "No miracle here. That woman fought like hell. She's a survivor. After what she dealt with during 'The Hollywood Massacre', no wonder she's alive.".

ISABELLA'S POV

I was in the ambulance with Haley next to me. She says we are almost there. I felt tired. Haley said, "I know you're tired, but I need you to keep your eyes open for me.". 

I tried to stay awake and not fall asleep. Haley tried to cheer me up, "Hey, you, uh... you think you had a hard day. Me and mom's officer friends, Emma have been running all over the state looking for you. I wasn't dressed for snow.". I said, "Me, either.". 

We both chuckled. Haley told me that Emma said that she would call Claire and let everyone know that I'm okay. I knew everyone would be so relieved. Haley said, "Luke. Luke most of all-". I interrupted her, "Luke's alive?". Haley said that it was true. That Luke was alive, She said, "He made it through. You both did.".

In the hospital, the doctor said, "How are we doing, Mr. Dunphy? Ready to get out of here.". Luke was ready to go back to work and make money. The doctor said he might want to pace himself. Luke admits he's gonna start pacing myself up and down these walls pretty soon. 

The doctor said, "Well, maybe... your friend can distract you.". I came in the room while in the wheelchair. Luke questioned me on what I was doing here and that I should be in the hospital? I told him I am in the hospital. I got myself transferred so I could see him. 

I got up to the wheelchair and to the bed. Luke was worried and hope nothing happened while I got up. I told him that all of this is gonna heal. I asked how he was feeling. He said he's starting to hate hospitals. He's glad we weren't in a coma. Luke said, "I thought...I really thought that we...-". I told him, "Me too. But, You're okay. We're okay. And I don't wanna be apart any longer.". I straight up kissed him on the lips. Maybe he was my future.

——

I hope you enjoy. This may be my new favorite part. Also I'm taking a break from this story and making a new one. The ones I have plan to make is one with Mason Thames and Malachi Barton. (Separately not them together, although I'm thinking about making one of with a male... idk comment if I should.) I'll let you guys know when they release and what's it about and both will be on Wattpad and Tumblr.

Also let me know if you want my sister to write any future parts.

[crazyf0rswayze]

Can you write Brian Johnson (The Breakfast Club) x a female reader who has trouble sleeping and is always falling asleep during class/detention please? Thank you:)

Warnings: cursing, yelling, mentions of a bad home life, lmk if I missed anything

Y/N POV

Another Saturday another detention for the dumbest fucking reason ever. Bonus points because I didn't sleep well at all and we were out of coffee this morning.

"Hey Y/n! How ya doin'" my boyfriend, Brian yells out as I get out of my mom's car. I groan loud as I walk over to him

"Didn't sleep good?" he asks

"No not really" I say. Brian wraps one arm around my waist as we head towards the school

"I'm sorry hun" He says, grabbing the door. I walk in and he follows after me. He catches up so he's by my side. His pinky finds mine and he links them together earning a small, happy giggle from me.

BRIAN'S POV

Gosh I loved her. I loved that no matter how she felt, or how tired she was she could still let out a small giggle to let me know she liked what I was doing. We near the library and I open up the door for her. We step in to find only Andy in there.

"Congrats on being early" He says, rolling his eyes. He looks from me to Y/n and down at our hands. Y/n tries to pull hers away but I keep our pinkies linked together. I let out a scoff and go to sit at my usual seat, with Y/n on my right.

"You were here before us Andrew, so what's the biggie" I ask

"That's because my dad had work"

"Your dad doesn't work on weekends, you told me" Y/n says tiredly. Andrew had honestly become friends with everyone in detention, we were only joking around really so I wasn't surprised when his eyes softened after Y/n spoke.

"Hey, you ok? You sound insanely tired" Andy asks with concern in his voice.

"I didn't sleep good ag-" she cuts herself off, probably remembering that she never told Andrew about her sleep problems.

"Bender is hhheerrree!!!" John yells as he comes jogging in, flexing his arms and shit like the jocks do.

"Is that how you enter your matches Andrew?" Bender asks sitting behind him

"No now shut your trap before I shut it for you" Ok so maybe I lied, Andy was not friends with Bender and he made that obvious every week. Y/n leans her body against mine and puts her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes.

"Y/n, you can't sleep in detention because you'll earn yourself another if Mr.Vernon sees" I whisper. She lets out a small groan and sits back up. Clair and Allison come it and sit in their usual spots.

"Now that everyone is here, I'll be giving you an assignment...sit around and do nothing. Just sit in you damn seats and we'll have a good day" Mr. Vernon says after he walks into the room and stands at the front of all the desks.

"MS Y/L/N!! Is this boring you?" He yells after Y/n yawns.

"N-no I just didn't sleep well I-I guess." She says, and everyone seemed to be looking at her.

"Well don't fall asleep you hear me? If I catch you sleeping it's another detention" He says pointing a finger at her

"It's not like I'm falling asleep in class!" She says

"That's another detention already! Don't talk back!" he yells. I see small tears fill Y/n's eyes. I knew she hated yelling...Mr. Vernon walks out and everyone's eyes are still stuck on Y/n, waiting for a reaction, waiting for a tear to fall

"What are you all looking at!!??" She yells

"Not much" Bender says with a smirk

"Shut your fucking mouth John!" Andy yells looking back at Bender with anger in his eyes. Andy and Y/n were friends before all these detentions, so he could get quite defensive, and I couldn't tell if I liked it or not because it makes it seem like her likes her. But at the same time I'm glad he can stick up for her because I could barely stick up for myself.

"Andrew stop! Just leave it alone! I'm fine!" Y/n says, folding her arms on the desk and burying her head in them.

"She's so dramatic" Clair whispers

"Clair stop! It's not her fault!" Andy whisper yells to the girl next to her

"Yea you're more dramatic than her" Bender states in a whisper

"Do you ever shut up!? Better question...do you ever say anything nice?" Andrew asks, still whispering

"Not often, no" Bender responds. I hear Y/n's breath slow down next to me.

"Shit" I whisper, not knowing if I should wake her up or not. Andy looks at me and then to Y/n and then back to the front of the room. I softly shake her, and put my head on the table. She groans and lifts her head up off the desk, looking at me. I move a few strands of hair out of her face. She smiles and tilts her head to one side is resting on her arms but shes looking in my eyes

"You can't sleep, you heard what Mr. Vernon said."

"It doesn't matter if I plan on being here every week anyway"

"No...no you can't be here every week if you want to get into that college"

Y/N POV

"But I'm tired" I say

"I know you are, but you can't sleep right now. I'll bring you to my house later, and we can cuddle and you can sleep..ok?" Brian says with a soft, beautiful, smile

"Ok..." I say with a yawn. I notice Andy smile, and chuckle a little at us. I knew he was happy that I had someone nice like Brian. I sit up, and Brian wraps and arm around my shoulder and pulls me into him.

"Get a room" Bender says with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. His feet are propped up on the desk and his arms are crossed over his chest.

"Oh my fucking god!!! Shut up! You're just jealous!" I say to him. Bender looks at me angrily and stands up to walk over to me. Andy stands up and stands in front of John so he's unable to reach me.

"Two hits, one to the jaw, and the other is when you hit the ground...just like the first time we met right?" Andrew says coolly

"OH MY GOD! CAN YOU GUYS GO ONE WEEK WITHOUT WANTING TO SLIT EACH OTHER'S THROATS!!!??" Clair yells out. Allison squeals once Clair yells. Quick and loud footsteps approach the library and Andrew and John scramble back to their seats

"What's all that yelling!!" Mr. Vernon asks, running into the room

"Nothing sir" I say, lifting my head from my arms

"Did she fall asleep?"

"Yea!!" Bender was quick to yell

"N-No! No she didn't, I was next to her the whole time" Brian says, quick to defend me. I see Andy shoot his meanest glare at John. 'Piece of shit' he mouths

"I didn't fall asleep he's lying!" I say, praying he won't give me another detention

"You're off the hook this time missy" He says before walking out.

BRIAN'S POV

After we can't hear the footsteps Andy and Bender get up and rumble around. Andrew pins John to the floor

"What is your damn problem Bender!! Why did you have to be an ass all the time!" He says. Bender is squirming to get out of Andy's grasp. Andy picks up his shoulders and slams them back into the ground. Bender just chuckles

"What!?" Andrew says pushing on Benders shoulders again

"Andy stop!" Clair yells at the boy. Y/n's head is in her arms again and her breathing is soft. I truly wondered how she could sleep through the commotion. Bender manages to land a punch on Andrew's face, causing him to fall backwards and off of Bender. Both the boys stand up, ready to keep fighting. Bender is close to me so you can kind of imagine what happens next. I spring up to hold John's arms behind his back and keep him from hurting Andrew. Andrew walks away to the back of the room and sits against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and his legs sticking out in front of him. Allison walks over to him sitting by him, and Y/n stirs awake.

"Why are you always so damn tired" Bender asked and she looked behind her to see Allison with her head on Andy's shoulder. She smiled, and as she looked back to John her smile quickly fell and she narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you always such a damn asshole" She questions before grabbing her bag and going to sit with Andy and Allison. I follow her.

"I'm assuming you're ok?" Y/n asks Andrew as she sits beside Allison.

"Yea, it was just one punch. But how the hell did you know what was going on" Andy asks.

"I kinda saw the start of it, then kinda fell asleep." Y/n answers and John and Clair walk over. The sit on the wall next to us, since we were sitting near the corner.

"Are you here for fun again Allison?" I ask, leaning over so I could see her, considering Y/n was right next to me on my left.

"Yea" she says with a devious smirk

Y/N POV

"What are you here for Andy" Brian asks

"Starting a fight in class" He says looking up at the ceiling.

"Bender?" Brian asks quietly

"Getting involved in a fight in class" Bender says with a smirk. I roll my eyes. I wanted to punch him so bad. He's such an ass and he acts so cool about it. But you know, Andrew's the same way.

"Clair?" Brian asks

"I cussed out a teacher" she says looking down.

"Holy shit! You cussed out a teacher!?" Andrew says with a chuckle, looking at Clair. She nods her head smiling

"Yea" She says with a breathy chuckle. We all looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Holy ccrrraaappp!!! Clair Standish the perfect, innocent girl cussed at a teacher!?" I say with a proud smile on my face

"Yea...yea I did...what are you in for?" She asks me.

"You make it sound like I'm in prison!" I say, avoiding her question

"Y/n don't avoid my question" She says saddly

"My parents were fighting all night....and I couldn't sleep and I fell asleep in class" I say looking down. Brian wraps an arm around my shoulder and kisses my head.

"It's ok babe" he whispers. Bender snort laughs at me. I see Andy shoot him a glare out of the corner of my eye. We all kinda spent the rest of our eight hours back there and talked, and most definitely cried, Allison and I fell sleep on multiple occasions. We also argued more than ever because John Bender is a ginormous asshole and I have no idea how Clair can stand him, or stand letting him be rude. Well, she did get mad at him a few times.

"Bender stop!! I literally had to wake you up in class last week and your laughing at Y/n!? You're making like the entire room mad!!"

[livvyofthelake]

new lost ranking post the hurley episode i watched last night. episode 18? maybe. whatever

1. jack obviously. he’s never getting knocked off the top of the pyramid there’s literally nothing anyone else could do to make me like them more than jack…. nothing this show ever does will ever beat do no harm

2. sayid!!! his swag is like. so unbeatable… he just hits different AND he’s a total hottie too woah… loving his paranoid insane freak arc this season. the writers were like what if we killed his girlfriend and made him act insane. and i’m eating it up actually i mean i wish they hadn’t killed his girlfriend considering that was literally my good friend shannon who i miss deeply. but sayid is NOT moving on and i love it… need me a freak like that sorry

3. claire… maternity leave was HUGE… and that’s my friend belle she always ranks higher than she probably should because she’s my friend belle <3

4. hurleyyyyy :) my special little prince and i mean this… i’m such a hurley girl and yeah sure you can also chalk that up to the fact that hurley is the pet character of eddie and adam and i would love anything eddie and adam did forever and ever except that tron movie i could never quite get through watching. heart! anyway yeah i love hurley he’s my guy… hurley is so. me age 19 but different but the same. wow. if hurley could read some of my notes app poetry from 2020 he’d feel seen in a way that would motivate him to seek professional help. but let’s not get into that

5. ana lucia SORRY. she kinda sucks so fucking bad and yes she killed my beautiful girl shannon but that was only her fault as much as it’s a gun’s fault when someone uses it to kill someone. so i’ve never blamed her for that it’s just a bad situation which she will notttt be coming out on top of 😐. but i think she’s sooo cool in a woman who sucks way… and her cunty 2000s ass outfit is crazy… the black tank top and low rise bootcut jeans and chunky belt and zip up utility vest…. i’d dress up as her for halloween if i was the kind of person who dressed up for halloween or was willing to buy an ugly belt for a one wear costume. also her plot with sayid rn is soooo good they’re looking at each other just two paranoid FREAKS going. you aren’t crazy. and neither am i. let’s fucking kill these Others. it’s sooooo good… and she never makes the same mistake twice…

6. eko my good friend eko…. he’s so…. he’s just so kind… imagine having the patience and compassion to be nice to charlie right now. woah

7. kate. in her flop era rn and it’s DIRE. but we love her this is the highest i can put her right now i’m sorry girl you just can’t beat out eko and hurley and ana etc when you’re acting like this….

8. rose and bernard <3 soooooo excited for them next episode it’s not even funny… that’s literally rose and bernard….

9. libby. category five obsessed with that freak disease! she took one look at that loser hurley and was like he’s so fucking pathetic and weird. and i want him so bad. and i HAVE to respect her game. she said oh yeah i’m gonna talk him back from suicide and then it’s ON…

10. danielle rousseau… she literally slayed the house down in maternity leave… sorry queen for never including you in these lists before now my bad fr!

11. sun <3 she’s so. your girl friend who deserves way better but she’s so happy with her annoying and unlikeable man you can’t even tell her to dump his ass no matter how bad you want to

12. michael… where tf is michael… i miss him :(

13. new guy. i can’t very well call him henry now can i. wtf is his name… kinda like his pathetic gay swag. but he’s sooo annoying 🙄 and frankly i stand with sayid’s paranoid freak ass… but he’s kinda fun to have around i admit! love how he’s always playing mind games!!

14. locke admittedly has been slaying lately but i still think all his backstory episodes are lame and bad and also. as we say. an enemy of jack’s…

15. jin. he like. swings wildly between me hating him so bad i hope he dies and me thinking he’s soooo interesting and compelling and cool. the whole truth was a crazy episode in this way when it started i was like wow he needs to kill himself. and then by the end i was like woah why is he the most interesting man on lost island…. the way he literally can’t talk to anyone but sun as a physical storytelling metaphor for his closed off nature that prevents him from ever being truly known… wowie!

16. charlie. he’s flopping soooo hard this season. remember when charlie used to be a top five character. that’s crazy

17. sawyer. goes without explanation

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 11

When the vampires returned to Loki’s place, Claire and Louise were glad to see that everyone was ok. Even though they were all covered in blood.

‘Is everyone ok? Was it hunters?’ Claire asked as she rushed to Loki.

‘All good. Yeah... hunters managed to get into the school.’ Loki nodded. He was just glad that she was ok.

‘There’s the main bathroom upstairs and the one down here, feel free to clean up everyone. I'm going for a quick shower in the en-suite before we decide what to do next.’ Loki said to the others as Claire wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He made his way upstairs and Claire went with him.

‘I bagsy the upstairs bathroom.’ Jessica said quickly as she grabbed Spencer’s hand and dragged him upstairs.

‘We’ll take the downstairs one!’ Severus said quickly as he and Toshi darted down the hall to the small bathroom at the end.

Chris huffed in annoyance.

‘Kitchen?’ Louise suggested.

‘Good idea.’ Chris smiled and went with her to the kitchen.

‘We’ll just have to wait then.’ Matt huffed as he folded his arms over his chest.

‘There’s a hose out back.’ Chris called to him with a chuckle.

David laughed a little, though Matt didn’t look overly pleased. They went through to the living room in the mean-time, Bat greeted them with happy chirps, though did look concerned when she saw them covered in blood.

‘Hey, cutie!’ David sat down and Bat instantly jumped into his lap, purring.

‘It’s bad enough that we have to worry about ourselves, but I feel for the guys having to worry about their humans too. It can’t be easy.’ Matt said as he sat down.

‘Maybe they should turn them sooner than later, so they’re at least stronger.’ David suggested.

‘I think Loki would rather die than turn Claire before she’s ready.’ Matt said.

‘Has he said if that’s the long-term plan?’ David asked.

‘I heard him mention that they’d talked about it when she’s a bit older, more in-line with Loki’s age. Apparently drinking her blood is too addicting right now.’ Matt smirked.

‘I imagine it is.’ David nodded. ‘What’s up with you, you’re really restless?’ He asked when he noticed Matt's leg bobbing up and down constantly.

‘I just hate the fact the hunters got into the school right under our noses!’ Matt sighed in frustration.

‘I know, I do too. I’m sure we will get to the bottom of it though.’ David assured him.

-

‘Is Louise alright about it all?’ Loki asked Claire on the way up the stairs.

‘She’s ok, just worried about Chris and the rest of you, like I was. How bad was it?’ Claire asked Loki when they got into the privacy of their bedroom and en-suite.

Loki was quick to remove his bloodied shirt. Claire was trying not to think about how damn sexy he looked naked with blood splattered on him…

Loki ran a hand through his hair. ‘I… I tore into someone. I let myself get too carried away.’ He turned his back to her.

‘Loki. It’s not your fault, you were doing what you needed to do.’ Claire moved in behind him and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face against his back. ‘The hunters don’t care about who they hurt, going after innocent vampires, they deserve what’s coming to them.'

Loki sniffed at the air. ‘Are you… are you aroused?’ Loki asked as he turned in her arms and looked down at her with an eyebrow up.

‘What? Me? Aroused? At my sexy vampire boyfriend being all macho and covered in blood? Absolutely not!’ Claire said quickly as her cheeks turned red.

Loki chuckled and shook his head. He dipped his head down and kissed her on the lips hungrily. ‘As much as I’d love to ravage you right now, the others will be waiting to go over everything.’ He sighed over her lips.

‘Not even a quickie in the shower?’ Claire asked innocently and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘Ohh so naughty.’ Loki growled and scooped her up by her bum, holding her flush against him as he carried her through into the bathroom.

Loki managed to get rid of his trousers while Claire turned the shower on and removed her dress. They hopped in and didn’t take long to get handsy, Claire was already aroused enough though so they didn’t need to do much foreplay.

Claire knew that Loki was needing a release, he was feeling conflicted over killing the hunters in the way he did, plus all the blood that was exposed had driven his instincts wild. So she wasn’t surprised when he pinned her against the wall and fucked her roughly, nipping at her neck in the process, doing his best to avoid sinking his fangs into her right now.

Claire certainly didn’t complain at the feral-ness of the fucking, her body was cheering in delight at being taken in such a manner. She could barely catch her breath as he pounded into her, she didn’t care if everyone in the house heard her whimpering and moaning over the sound of the running water.

-

‘I thought being a vampire would be easy and safe.’ Spencer chuckled as he and Jessica decided to have a quick shower as well, since they had the big bathroom. The shower was big enough for them both.

‘It’s not always fun and games, unfortunately.’ Jessica sighed.

‘So I’m beginning to see.’

‘Do you regret being turned?’ Jessica asked as they got into the shower and just rinsed the blood off their bodies, as tempting as it was to fool around, they decided to behave themselves since they were in someone else’s house, and they knew that others would no doubt want to use the bathroom.

‘No, otherwise I’d be dead.’ Spencer laughed. ‘Plus, it means I can keep up with you better.’ He smirked and grabbed her hips to move her back against the tiled wall of the shower.

‘Behave, others will be needing in, remember.’ Jessica giggled.

Spencer huffed and pressed his forehead against hers. ‘I guess so.’

‘Besides, I want to know what the hell is going on. We need to figure out how they got in.’

When they got out of the shower and started to get dried before putting on their bloodied ball clothes again, they could hear the sound of Loki and Claire going at it.

‘Why do they get to have sex but we can’t have a quickie?’ Spencer pouted.

Jessica laughed and kissed his pouting lips. ‘It’s their home.’

-

‘Blood looks good on you.’ Toshi smirked at Severus as they shimmied into the small bathroom. It was just a toilet and a sink.

‘Looks better on you.’ Severus smirked back at her.

They filled the sink with water and found a cloth under the sink in the cabinet. Toshi soaked it in the water then was about to wash her face, though Severus gently took it from her. ‘Allow me.’

He took his time softly wiping her face clean, then he focused on her arms and around her neck and chest. Toshi smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the way he was taking care of her. She returned the favour for him once her skin was clean of blood.

‘How do you think they got into the school?’ Toshi asked as she chucked the cloth into the sink once they were done, turning the water a nice bloody red.

‘I’m not sure. It’s quite the concern though. I don’t like what they said to Loki about going after our humans, too. With you being an ex-hunter, you may be even more at risk if they see you as a traitor.’ Severus said with a frown.

‘N’aww. You know you don’t need to worry about me.’ Toshi smiled sweetly and cupped his cheek.

Severus turned his head and kissed her palm. ‘I know you can look after yourself, but you know I still worry. I always will.’

‘I know… I’m more worried about Claire and Louise, though. They can’t really protect themselves, can they?’ Toshi turned to the sink and pulled the plug, she tried to clean the sink up a little so it wasn’t left too messy.

‘Not as such. I doubt Chris and Loki would let anything happen to them. Although tonight was a close call.’ Severus sighed.

‘It was indeed.’ Toshi agreed, she slipped her arms around Severus and laid her head on his chest.

Severus held her tightly to him and slid his hand slowly up and down her back. ‘I’d be even more out of my mind with worry if you weren’t highly skilled.’

Toshi’s eyes flew open as she suddenly realised she knew what needed to happen.

‘We need to talk to Chris and Loki, they need to teach their girls some fighting skills… just in case.’

‘Hmm, perhaps that could work. I doubt they would physically have the strength, but couldn’t hurt to have some training under their belts.’

‘Exactly.’

-

When Chris and Louise got into the kitchen, Chris closed the door over so they’d have a little privacy.

‘You weren’t hurt, were you?’ Louise asked softly, when Chris turned to face her, he saw worry all over her face.

‘Not at all.’ He smiled. ‘This blood isn’t mine, don’t worry.’ He chuckled as he motioned to his white shirt that was more red than white now.

‘Thank you for making sure Claire and I got to safety. I still can’t believe you managed to carry us both with such ease.’ She laughed a little shyly. ‘And I’m glad you’re ok.’

‘I will always make sure you’re safe, pumpkin.’ He reached out slowly and cupped her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and the nickname.

He’d been a little worried about Louise seeing him covered in blood like he was, but realising she didn’t seem scared, he was so relieved. In-fact, he could’ve sworn that he could smell a small hint of arousal in the air… making his mouth water.

Chris cleared his throat and began unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Do you mind that I change my shirt?’ He asked, noticing her eyes were locked on his fingers undoing his buttons.

‘No…’ She squeaked. ‘Oh, I still have your jacket.’ She said sheepishly and rushed around the table, she’d draped it over one of the chairs.

‘Perfect. Will save me having to squeeze into one of Loki’s.’ Chris chuckled as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.

Louise felt her heartbeat quickening, she tried not to stare as Chris shrugged his shirt off. He was covered in tattoos, though they looked so good on him. He was also far more muscular than she had imagined. She had to turn her head away when she felt her face turning bright red.

She tried to focus as she went over to the sink and started running the water to get it warm. Then she raided through the cupboards until she found a hand towel and a cloth for him.

Louise stepped to the side, to let Chris get washed up. As he splashed his face with the water, Louise found herself staring at him again. When he peeked to the side and smirked a little, she quickly averted her eyes away and turned her body slightly to try and stop staring at him.

‘So… uh, hunters?’ She squeaked.

‘It was. I don’t know how the hell they got into the school with so many vampires there. It must’ve been during the fire alarm.’ Chris said angrily.

‘One of them maybe set it off?’ Louise suggested, she turned to look at him again when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he was drying his face and hands with the towel.

‘Perhaps… Though that still means one of them had to get inside.’ Chris sighed.

He slipped his suit jacket on, though there were only three buttons on it that were low down, so even with them buttoned up, most of his chest was still showing and Louise was finding it really difficult to focus properly.

‘My eyes are up here, pumpkin.’ He said cheekily and winked at her when her eyes shot up to his eyes.

‘S… sorry! I’m sorry.’ She stammered and blushed hard.

‘No need to apologise.’ He grinned and cupped her cheek. ‘I can’t stop staring at you, it’s only fair you stare back.’ He winked at her again, making her laugh.

‘Are you all done in there?’ David called through after knocking on the door.

Chris growled a little with a sigh. ‘Yes.’ He called back.

David opened the door and walked in. ‘Good. I need to at least wash my hands, get the smell of the blood off.’ He said as he darted straight for the sink.

Matt came in after him too, needing to do the same.

‘Are the others down yet?’ Louise asked.

‘Spencer and Jessica are, they said they could hear Loki and Claire going at it so they might be a little longer.’ David scoffed.

‘Of course they are getting off together while they’ve got guests.’ Chris rolled his eyes.

‘Just so rude.’ Louise laughed.