#I spent all this time on Ed and then for the background I was like hahaha cor

[jamminvroomvroom]

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

-

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

-

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

-

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

-

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

-

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

-

hehe the end

-

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

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[leighbaye]

— BEN’S BUNKER

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , losers club 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2300

summary. spending time the your bestest friends in the world, in ben’s surprise hideout for the losers club. a stronger bond flourishing inside!

labels. feminine reader, happy go lucky girl, shy cute girly girl reader, no definite description of reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is closer to richie toizer & eddie kaspbrak.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. hey everyone! i was rewatching it 2019 and me being the self indulgent person i am, i started fantasizing about us (readers) being with the losers! lots of love.

summer days in derry had a special kind of magic, one that was even stronger when you spent them with the losers club. today, ben had promised a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see what he had in store. the air was thick with excitement as you all made your way through the woods, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

❝ are we there yet? ❞ richie’s voice rang out, filled with mock impatience. you were walking beside him, as usual, and his playful energy was contagious. you couldn’t help but smile.

❝ yeah, ben, how much further? ❞ eddie added, swatting away a mosquito with a grimace. you could tell eddie was getting antsy, but his curiosity kept him moving forward. you gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his nerves. richie noticed and nudged you with his elbow, his grin wide.

❝ you know, eds, (y/n) here could probably carry you if you get too tired, ❞ richie teased, earning a light smack on the arm from eddie.

❝ shut up, richie, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to hide a smile. you laughed softly, loving the way they always managed to make you feel at ease, even when they were bickering.

finally, ben stopped in front of a large thicket, and your curiosity peaked. he pushed aside some branches, revealing a hidden entrance. ❝ here it is, ❞ your eyes widened as you stepped through the opening. inside was a large, cozy space, bigger than you’d expected. there were shelves full of books, soft blankets, and a huge hammock strung up in one corner, large enough for several people. the place felt like a secret clubhouse, one that was just for you and your friends.

❝ ben, this is amazing! ❞ you exclaimed, your voice filled with awe. you turned to look at him, and he blushed slightly, clearly pleased with your reaction.

❝ yeah, ben, this is awesome, ❞ mike added, already exploring the different corners of the hideout. ❝ you really outdid yourself. ❞

❝ i thought it would be nice to have a place just for us, ❞ ben said, his voice warm with affection. ❝ a place where we can hang out and just be ourselves. ❞

richie immediately made a beeline for the hammock, his eyes lighting up with excitement. ❝ dibs on the hammock! ❞ he shouted, flopping down onto it with a dramatic sigh of contentment. you laughed and followed him over, sitting down on the edge of the hammock.

❝ you’re such an ass, ❞ eddie grumbled, but he couldn’t resist joining you both. he climbed onto the hammock, settling in beside you with a huff. you found yourself sandwiched between richie and eddie, feeling the gentle sway of the hammock as they playfully jostled each other.

❝ careful, you’re gonna tip us over, ❞ you warned, your voice filled with laughter. richie just grinned at you, his arm draping casually around your shoulders.

❝ don’t worry, (y/n), i’ve got you, ❞ he said, his tone teasing but affectionate. you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. on your other side, eddie was muttering under his breath about how richie was being annoying, but you could tell he was just as happy to be there.

as you lay there, the three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. richie and eddie kept up their usual banter, tossing playful insults back and forth while you relaxed between them. their voices became a soothing background noise, and you found your eyelids growing heavy as the hammock rocked gently beneath you.

❝ hey, richie, do you ever shut up? ❞ eddie grumbled, though there was no real bite to his words. he was more focused on making sure you were comfortable, adjusting a blanket around you with a careful hand.

❝ only when i’m asleep, eds, ❞ richie shot back, his grin widening as he caught your eye. ❝ and even then, i’m sure i’m the most entertaining sleeper around. ❞

❝ if you say so, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked at you. ❝ (y/n), how do you put up with him? ❞ with an exaggerated sigh.

you just smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship surrounding you like a protective shield. ❝ i guess i’m just lucky, ❞ you replied softly, your voice filled with contentment.

eventually, the steady rhythm of their voices and the gentle sway of the hammock lulled you into a peaceful nap. richie’s arm was still draped over your shoulders, and eddie’s presence beside you was a comforting anchor. as you drifted off to sleep, you felt completely safe, knowing that your best friends were right there with you.

when you woke up, the sun had shifted, casting a warm, golden light through the small windows of the hideout. you blinked sleepily, realizing that richie and eddie had fallen asleep too, their heads resting against yours. the hammock was still gently swaying, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the quiet peace of the moment.

after a while, you carefully extricated yourself from the hammock, trying not to wake richie and eddie. they both stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, so you quietly tiptoed away, leaving them to their nap. as you looked around the hideout, you noticed bill, stan, and mike sitting together on a pile of blankets, engrossed in their books.

❝ h-hey, (y/n), want to j-j-join us? ❞ bill asked, glancing up from his book with a welcoming smile. you nodded, making your way over to them. you sat down beside stan, who gave you a small, shy smile as he handed you one of the books from the shelf.

❝ thank you, stan, ❞ you said softly, returning his smile. he nodded, his eyes already back on his book.

you opened the book and quickly became absorbed in the story, losing yourself in the world of words. the four of you read in companionable silence, the only sounds being the rustle of pages turning and the occasional soft murmur as one of you reacted to something in the story.

after a while, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. looking up, you saw beverly smiling down at you. ❝ hey, (y/n), can i steal you for a bit? ❞ she asked, her voice warm.

❝ okay, ❞ you replied, closing your book and setting it aside. you stood up and followed bev over to where ben was working on some project with a hammer and nails.

❝ we could use some extra hands, ❞ bev said, handing you a hammer. ❝ ben’s been teaching me how to build stuff, and i thought you might want to join in. ❞

you smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for beverly’s thoughtfulness. ❝ i’d love to help, ❞ you said, taking the hammer and kneeling down beside ben.

❝ thanks, (y/n), ❞ ben said, giving you a grateful smile. ❝ we’re just reinforcing some of the shelves and adding a few more. it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it. ❞

❝ definitely, ❞ you agreed, already feeling a sense of accomplishment as you began hammering nails into place. as you worked, bev chatted with you about all sorts of things—clothes, movies, and boys. it was nice to have some girl time, and you found yourself opening up to her in a way you hadn’t before.

❝ you know, (y/n), ❞ bev said, her voice turning a bit more serious, ❝ i’m really glad you’re part of the losers club. you bring something special to the group, and i just want you to know that you’re really important to all of us. ❞

you felt your cheeks flush with warmth at her words, and you looked down at the hammer in your hands, suddenly feeling a bit shy. ❝ thanks, beverly, you said softly. ❝ that means a lot. ❞

she smiled at you, her eyes filled with kindness. ❝ it’s true. don’t ever doubt it, okay? ❞

you nodded, feeling a swell of affection for your friend. as the two of you continued working, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the bond you shared with the losers club. they were more than just friends—they were family, and you knew that no matter what, you’d always have each other’s backs.

after finishing up with the shelves, you and bev stepped back to admire your work. ❝ not bad, ❞ ben said, clearly pleased with the results. ❝ this place is really coming together. ❞

❝ it really is, ❞ you agreed, feeling a sense of pride in what you’d accomplished. ❝ i’m glad i could help. ❞

❝ you did great, ❞ bev said, giving you a friendly nudge. ❝ now, how about we take a break? i think we’ve earned it. ❞

you nodded, feeling a bit tired but happy. as you made your way back to the main area of the hideout, you noticed that richie and eddie had finally woken up and were now bickering playfully as usual.

❝ hey, sleepyheads, ❞ you called out, giggling as you approached them. ❝ have a nice nap? ❞

❝ the best, ❞ richie replied with a wink, stretching his arms above his head. ❝ but we missed you, (y/n). it’s not the same without our favorite girl around. ❞

❝ yeah, we woke up and you were gone, ❞ eddie added, his voice mock-petulant. ❝ don’t do that again. ❞

you laughed, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a cozy blanket. ❝ don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. ❞

the rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and moments that you knew you’d treasure forever. by the time the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the hideout, you felt completely at peace.

as you all gathered together in the hideout, huddled close on the blankets and bean bags, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. the losers club wasn’t just a group of friends—they were your home, your family, your safe haven in a world that could be so full of darkness.

and as you sat there, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew that no matter what the future held, you’d always stick by their side as much as they stuck to yours.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[babydollslibrary]

YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, KID — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

published: February 3rd, 2023

summary: in which y/n spent her high school years changing herself to become what she thought was Jack’s type, but when they meet again a few years later, she learns that she never needed to change in order for him to like her.

warnings: eating disorder mentioned and lightly described, weed mention/use, alcohol mention/use, light profanity, changing yourself for a guy (yes, that is a warning), this is mostly angst.

notes: for timeline purposes, i should mention that i wrote this with a summer birthday in mind for y/n.

important: THIS FIC IS NOT ROMANTICIZING ED’S.

GIF by teex

14 YEARS OLD

it was in my freshman year of high school that i noticed i was a bit different than other girls my age. with them having middle school relationships under their belt, and most being in sports rather than chorus like me. i didn’t really think much of it, as boys played no part in my life besides as defacto muses for my songs. but i still felt out of place.

16 YEARS OLD

it was in the summer before my junior year that i met Jack Hughes. a USNTDP hockey player and my first official crush. my family had rented a lake house and the Hughes’ ended up being our neighbors for the summer. My parents quickly befriended Ellen and Jim, and when they realized they had children the same age, all four of them tried for weeks to get Jack and i to hang out. but to no avail, because i was shutting myself in my room for some quiet writing time, and Jack was always busy with his brothers. but when i had slipped away from my parents to go for an evening swim one night, apparently Jack had the same idea. we saw each other at the lake and got to talking, becoming friends pretty quickly after that. it was 2 weeks into the friendship that i realized he made me feel things that my other guy friends didn’t.

when we split up at the end of the summer, we promised to text, but a couple weeks later i was pleasantly surprised when i was called into the school office to show him around. with pretty similar schedules, we were seeing each other in school quite a bit, and from that our friendship only grew. i sat with him and his friends at lunch, he would pick me up for school on the mornings that my car wouldn’t start, and he would even walk me to my classes sometimes.

but because of that, my feelings grew too. i did a full one-eighty, changing my entire personality. i stopped spending my weekends at home, instead opting to attend parties, just in hopes of seeing Jack there. and i found any excuse to talk to him, for even just a minute.

**

i’m sitting in my room, struggling with my math homework when my phone starts ringing. i peel my eyes away from the worksheet to glance over at it, and my heart flutters when i see Jack’s name, his picture lighting up the screen. i quickly press the answer button, holding the phone up to my ear.

“hey” i say.

“hey! you texted saying you have a question?” his voice is raspy, words coming out slow and slightly slurred, and i can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole talking in the background. he’s smoking weed.

“uh, yeah. i had a question about the Algebra 2 homework, but i can just ask you tomorrow when you’re in a better state of mind.” i laugh.

“how’d you know?” i can hear his grin through the phone, and it makes me smile.

“call it best friend’s intuition. i’ll let you get back to the guys.” i tell him. we say our goodbyes and i hang up, taking another second to stare at my phone with a goofy smile before i turn back to my math homework.

**

during the school year, i listened to him talk about each girl he was seeing throughout the year. each of them pretty, skinny, and blonde. and eventually, i wondered if he would like me as more than his annoying best friend, if i looked like those girls. so i would stare in my mirror for hours some nights, pinpointing things i should change about myself. as like most teenage girls, i had always been insecure, wishing to change myself. but now i learned to use Jack as an excuse for it. and from there, things started developing.

i begged my mom for weeks to let me dye my hair, and when she finally caved, i went to the salon and went blonde. but my hair wasn’t the only thing that changed. my eating habits were altered. slowly at first, just cutting out certain foods, and then all at once. i started skipping meals, excusing myself from dinner by saying i had a large lunch, leaving the house quickly in order to avoid breakfast, and only eating at lunch when Jack expressed concern about my lack of food. like now.

“good afternoon, hockey knuckleheads. your favorite person has arrived.” i announce my arrival at the lunch table while dropping my book bag by my seat, interrupting the boys current conversation. they all look at me, quickly saying their hello’s.

“y/n, you’d give me an autograph, right?” Trevor asks, and my face pinches in confusion.

“uh, what?” i ask.

“like, if you knew you were gonna be famous one day. you’d give me an autograph right now, right?” he clarifies.

“ignore him.” Jack laughs, pushing Trevor’s face away from he and i. he turns back to look at me, eyeing the empty tabletop in front of me. his smile drops and he turns to his backpack, pulling out a protein bar. he throws it over on the table in front of me, it landing with a smack, making me flinch.

“eat.” he tells me. my eyes bounce between the snack and him, studying his serious expression.

“i’m fine, Jack. i ate a big breakfast this morning, so i’m not hungry. keep this for when you need it at practice.” i tell him, sliding the snack back towards him. but of course my stomach speaks volumes, deciding right then to grumble loudly. Jack raises an eyebrow at me and slides the bar back over to me. i sigh, opening it up and taking a bite. he smiles at the sight, and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“good girl.”

17 YEARS OLD

it’s the end of senior year now, and i’ve gotten no closer to dating Jack than i was before. i’ve spent countless nights alone in my room, writing songs about him and crying over snapchat stories of him with other girls.

it’s another friday night, and that means another party in hopes of Jack seeing me dressed up. this time, my own party. with my parents out of town for the weekend, i took the chance to throw a party, inviting what felt like my entire grade in a mass text.

i walk around the house, my blonde hair curled and in a half-up-half-down do. i’m decked out in a tight fit black mini dress with black ballet flats to match, and i did a full glam makeup look. i scan the living room for Jack, but when i finally find him, i immediately feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

he’s sat on the couch, a pretty blonde draped across his lap, whispering in his ear as he nods, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, and a grin on his face. our friends were sat around him, some having their own discussions, and some singing along to the music playing on the surround sound speakers.

i go to spin back around, fully planning on going upstairs to my room for a quick cry, but before i can fully turn, i lock eyes with Jack. he raises his hand in a wave and beckons me over and i offer a weak smile in return. i look around the party once more and feel something snap inside of me.

i feel so stupid. i’ve spent the last almost two years of my life changing myself to try and get his attention and to have him look at me in a new light. spent almost two years overanalyzing his every move and i let my final two years of high school slip by me. instead of living in the moment and enjoying my rapidly declining time with my friends, i was wondering if Jack had seen my snapchat story, or if he did then why didn’t he slide up? amongst various other things to do with him.

i was done revolving my entire life and every decision i make around a guy who obviously doesn’t like me the way i like him.

21 YEARS OLD

it’s been four years since i started living for myself. in that time, i went to a treatment center for my eating disorder, graduated college, moved to New Jersey for a new job, and made new friends. i haven’t talked to Jack in three of those years. not because i didn’t want to, but because after high school, our friendship fizzled out. he went on to play in the NHL, and i went to college. we both lived busy lives, and it became too much to handle. i still talk to the other guys, Trevor the most, but not nearly as much as i used to.

now i’m sat in a club. it’s a saturday night, and my friend Yaz wanted to go do her favorite hobby. seeing how many men she can get to buy her free drinks. currently, she’s chatting up a cute brunette with an accent out on the dance floor, and i’m sat by myself at the bar. drinking an almost gone shirley temple and wondering why i agreed to go out when i would much rather be snuggled on my couch with a blanket and a movie. i’m debating telling Yaz that i’m gonna leave, when a guy sidles up next to me, taking the seat on my right and throwing me a smile.

“hi, i’m Dawson.” he holds his hand out and i slip mine in it, shaking.

“hi, i’m y/n.” he nods before turning back to a table of guys.

“IT’S HER!” he yells over, and my brows furrow, face pinching in confusion. he turns back to me and smiles again. “sorry. my friend said he thought he knew you, but he didn’t wanna come over and then be wrong.”

it’s at that moment that a shadow encases us, and i glance over my shoulder to see the one person i wasn’t expecting.

“hey!” Jack takes a seat on Dawson’s abandoned chair. i didn’t even notice he had slipped away. “it’s been so long!”

i blink a few times, just taking in the man in front of me. he looks good. like, really good. i wasn’t naive enough to think that the love i held for him had been snuffed out, i’m just comfortable with myself enough now, that i know that changing myself for him won’t do anything except hurt me.

“hey.” i breathe out. “wow. uh, i wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“yeah, i wasn’t really expecting to see you either. what are you doing in New Jersey?” he asks. okay, it’s not like i’m stupid. i knew Jack lived in New Jersey. i just also know it’s a big state and the possibility of us running into each other was slim. but apparently the universe likes to laugh in my face.

“i live here.” i tell him. “i moved here a few months ago, for a job.”

“and you didn’t call me? i thought we were friends!” he jokes, and i stiffen at the word. friends. yeah, that’s all we’ve ever been. “can we go somewhere? to talk?”

i nod and he leads me out of the club. i send a quick text to Yaz that i went outside for a few minutes, and she responds with a thumbs up emoji. Jack and i stop outside the entrance. the club stopped letting people in about half an hour ago, so there’s no line, just us and a bouncer standing about fifteen feet away at the entrance.

“well, you look good! you went back to your natural hair color, i like it. it suits you better than the blonde.” Jack starts off, and his words strike a nerve in my heart. he didn’t like me blonde? i knew it didn’t change anything with how he felt about me, but i didn’t know he disliked it in general.

“you look healthier too. that makes me really happy, y/n. my mom told me a couple years ago that your mom said you got treatment for your…disorder. i’m really proud of you.” my heart breaks a little more at his soft tone, he seems genuine. “i saw you earlier, with your friend. you have the spark in your eye back. i’m really glad you seem happy again. i’m just sorry i didn’t do anything before, to help you with anything you were going through. i was a naive kid, i just thought you’d come to me if you were struggling. but looking back, i realize that i should’ve reached out to help you regardless.”

“Jack, you shouldn’t blame yourself. you were a kid. i was a kid too, i didn’t understand the full extent of what i was doing.” i tell him. tears prick at my eyes and i blink them away.

“can i ask you a question?” he asks.

“of course.” i nod.

“why did you do it? was there a reason? i mean, at the time, it felt like you completely just changed overnight. but maybe it was a gradual thing and i just didn’t realize it back then.” i lose hope in keeping my tears at bay, letting one roll freely down my cheek. “you don’t have to tell me. obviously. it’s your business. i just- i’ve been wondering.”

i take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to explain.

“i was a naive kid, Jack. i liked a guy and i thought if i changed myself, maybe he would like me too. but it didn’t work, and instead i realized that i was just harming myself by not eating, doing things i hated, going to parties just to try and get his attention. looking back at it now, it was stupid. but back then, it seemed like the best idea i had ever had.”

“you did all that for a guy?” he asks. but his tone isn’t the usual one i get from people when i tell them about my past. it’s not incredulous, or judgmental, or even pitiful. he just sounds, sad. i just nod my head. “well, whoever he was, he wasn’t worth it. if a guy doesn’t like you for you, then he’s an idiot, and he doesn’t deserve you. i’m really glad you see that now. although, i wish you would’ve known it before.”

if only he knew.

“switching the topic.” i say, and he lets out a small breathy chuckle. “how have you been?”

“i’ve been good. just, trying not to get injured on ice, ya know?” i nod along.

“oh yeah, i remember. i still don’t understand why you would put yourself through that barbaric game.” i joke and he laughs. the sound causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, and it almost feels no time has gone by at all. i still feel like a lovesick teenager.

before either of us can speak again, my drunk friend stumbles out of the club, an arm looped through Dawson’s.

“hey, i thought i’d bring this one back to you. she kinda seems like she might need to sober up some.” Dawson tells me, and i thank him. Yaz lays her head on my shoulder, and Dawson says his goodbye to me and Yaz before slipping back inside.

“who’s this?” Yaz stage whispers, studying Jack who still stands in front of me. Jack and i laugh at her drunken attempt at being quiet.

“this is Jack.” i tell her. “Jack this is my friend, Yaz.”

“Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack.” Yaz repeats, and it’s like i can see the gears turning in her head. “that name sounds so familiar. Jack.”

“hey, wait! isn’t that the name of that guy you told me about? the one you were madly in love with in high school?” she blurts out, and my eyes turn as wide as saucers. i can feel my face heating up. i turn to look at my friend, who apparently has absolutely no filter when she’s had too much to drink. before any of us can say another word, a blue car pulls up and Yaz’s sister, Cara, steps out. “Yay! my ride!”

Yaz stumbles over to her, only stopping to turn and blow me a kiss before letting her sister help her in the car. Cara throws me a smile and a goodnight before getting in herself and driving away. leaving only me and the guy Yaz just exposed my love for.

i turn back to Jack, finding him wide eyed and repeatedly blinking. i open my mouth, but nothing comes out. i’m not sure what to say. but apparently Jack does.

“it was me?” he asks, pointing to his chest. “i was the guy?”

i feel like i might be sick. i never meant for him to know. i thought i would take that secret to my grave. i manage a weak nod, not able to physically speak.

“why- i mean- why did you think you had to do those things to yourself, y/n? i- i’m just— i’m so confused.”

“you had a type.” i shrug. “you dated all these girls, in high school. and they all had the same things in common. blonde, skinny, pretty, outgoing. you liked all those girls romantically so i thought maybe if i was more like them, you would like me like that too.”

“but i did like you like that!” he exclaims. i furrow my brows and my nose scrunches in confusion.

“what?” i whisper.

“i did like you romantically! i just thought i never had a chance with you. so, i busied myself with other girls. why do you think none of them ever lasted long?” he asks.

“i don’t know, i never really thought about that.” my head swarms with all this new information.

“because, they weren’t you.” he pleads. “i tried to forget those feelings for you by dating other girls, girls that before i met you, were my type. but they weren’t you. none of them were you.”

he steps forward, taking my face in his hands.

“i can’t believe you thought you had to change for me. fuck, i’m so stupid. i should’ve just told you i liked you when i first realized my feelings.” he breathes out.

“you can tell me now if you want?” i offer meekly, my head spinning. i want to kiss him. i’ve waited almost six years for this moment, and dear god i want to kiss him. now quite possibly more than ever.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispers. “i’ve loved you since the summer we were sixteen and you tried to push me off the dock into the lake, and i pulled you in with me. i still remember when you popped back up in front of me in the water. my first thought was ‘she’s so beautiful.’”

i inhale a shaky breath before tilting my head up to cover his lips with mine. kissing him with desperation and need. need to not waste another second that i could spend being with him. Jack is frozen for a second before his lips start moving against mine. his hands trail down my body to grip my hips, pulling me towards him. we fit together like a puzzle piece. my own hands grip the hair at the nape of his neck. we pull away from each other, and i look into his eyes.

“i love you too.” i whisper. “if that wasn’t obvious yet.”

“yeah? i don’t know, i think you might need to show me again.” he smirks and leans back down capturing my lips in a kiss once more.

[theflashjaygarrick]

People have spent so much time fleshing out random background male characters and so for feminism I am going to give one of DC's under appreciated female characters this treatment . I am absolutely fascinated by Joan Garrick as a character. DC is not. But who am I to let that stop me.

So what are some things we know about Joan Garrick (née Williams). One is that she met Jay Garrick when they were both students at college. More potential context was given by Millar and Morrison in the iconic Jay focused Flash (vol 2) #134. Here we learn that at the present time she is teaching microbiology and based on the fact that in my experience a specific microbiology subject is more common in university and she's heading in for specific classes not the school day I can infer she is a lecturer/professor. These few facts paint a picture of an awesome and boundary breaking woman in her own right.

We can assume she was in college in the 1930s. This makes sense. After all the 30s was the first generation where (almost entirely white and middle class) women attended colleges in greater numbers and with more social acceptance then before. They became symbols of newfound female independence and education. But at the same time they faced a lot of obstacles , particularly in co-ed institutions like Midwestern University. She still had to navigate her way through a very male dominated institution that did not take her seriously if they wanted her to be there at all. Along with the change in female education came cultural backlash both within and outside the academy. Misogynistic (and racist) detractors viewed female higher education as frivolous, unsuitable for women's 'fragile physiology' and even saw it as the 'suicide' of the middle-class white American family. Yeah these people were the fucking worst. Anyway, being a female student at a university in that era meant dealing with and overcoming all kinds of bullshit from exclusion to outright harassment (even more than it does now).

And then there is the fact that she apparently studied biology (or microbiology more specially) in a time where most women pursued degrees in teaching or nursing (if they planned to use it vocationally) or liberal arts (if they did not). Women were actively discouraged from taking science courses and Joan would have been trying to enter an even more hostile boys club whilst fighting against even greater social pressure. But despite it all she seemingly did succeed and presumably help break barriers for women in science which is awesome.

And we can see this refusal to back down in her personality. Joan's kindness is matched by her tenacity and her 'do first, ask for permission later' personality, which whether forged through her experiences in academic or before-hand helped her persevere overcome the many obstacles she would have faced. She's an absolute badass.

Now this is not strictly relevant but she also knew Jay was the flash the whole time which is really sweet. I personally like to think she figured it out because he kept asking her really specific questions about human metabolism and the like (biology seemingly is Jay's scientific blindspot) and she put two and two together. Also he just innately trusts her with his secret which is cute considering how much secret identity drama silver age couples went through.

[millie-multifics]

Miles to Go

Jack Abbot x f!Attending!Reader

A look inside Jack’s morning away from the ED, while you find yourself with an intriguing case after an Intern oversteps.

Warnings: Jack being soft, spine malformations, malpractice mentioned.

Word Count: ~1.5k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Previous | Next

Edited: 05/29/25

x x x

Hour Five: Back Into The Swing Of Things

8:00am

Jack tucked his go-bag into the entry way closest. The bag was always kept in the same two places, this closet or tucked under the seat in his truck, easy to access in emergency situations if necessary. His apartment was flooded by the morning light beaming through the east facing windows. He had invested in blackout curtains long ago, but opted to keep them open overnight to appease his therapists advise to “try to let some light in”.

His morning after a shift were routine, a trait that his time in the military had instilled in him. Shower, breakfast, sleep, easy to accomplish in his varying tired state. He tried his best to get a full eight hours of sleep, but his days off varied in the post-sleep routine of dinner and venturing back to the ED. His evenings off were filled with tasks he put off during the week; restocking the fridge, cleaning, sometimes a beer at the local pub with Robby or attending a Veteran outreach meeting. The events of the morning had him already considering the latter to fill his upcoming evening away from the Pitt.

His routines kept him grounded, until recently, until you.

The two months he had spent straying from his habits to be with you shook him. Leaving you standing in your apartment in the morning light, looking so overwhelmed had damn near killed him. Then returning to his routines like he had not just invaded your life and space so easily? There were small changes he had to make, steps he had to take to cling to those moments and memories with you.

Hair damp from the shower and breakfast dishes drying in the kitchen, he pulled the curtains closed and sunk onto the sofa. A police scanner sat on the table, volume low to fill the apartment with noise. He removed his prosthesis, gently massaging the tender area to relieve the ache; there was no way for him to avoid the familiar soreness when he spent 90% of his day standing and chasing traumas. He knew that his bed would be better for his aging body, but his bed felt too big for him to be alone, he would toss and turn watching as the clock ticked the minutes into hours. The couch was better, and he had gotten used to having the tv on in the background. He flicked on the tv, adjusting the volume to be slightly louder than the scanner as he flicked through the video options until he found the show he was looking for. He hated it, he found it cheesy and unrealistic, but after spending countless hours watching episodes in your apartment, he found himself unable to stop. Exhaustion settled, the ache in his bones and mental weight of the long night slowly melted away into a peaceful slumber.

You sat at the opposite end of your worn sofa, heavy cast resting on the coffee table, softened by a stack of mismatched throw pillows. Your eyes were glued to the tv, sniffling back tears as Izzy mourned Denny on screen. Jack knew that fighting back tears must have been hurting your healing nose but as you shifted awkwardly on the couch it became obvious that something else was causing you much more discomfort.

“Need to move?” His gruff voice startled you; it was low and unexpected as you were attempting to maneuver with the purpose of avoiding his watchful gaze. You had been skeptical of accepting his help at first, it had all felt too much but he recognized that you needed it before you could admit it to yourself. A broken leg was one thing, but the crack in your collarbone meant crutches would only slow the healing process, you slowly grew thankful that he had not given you the option to turn him away like you had everybody else.

“You can put your feet on my lap, I don’t mind.” He offered, “If that would be more comfortable for you.”

You contemplated, agreeing that it would be more comfortable, but he should also rest his aching leg too. The coffee table had been pulled closer, his legs resting on the worn wood as you maneuvered yourself to lay flat on the couch. Your heavy cast rested on a pillow in Jack’s lap; your other socketed foot crossed overtop, sandwiched between the cast and Jacks resting hand. Your apartment was already generally quiet, but Jack filled the small space with an unexpected calm and warmth neither of you were ready to face.

Your attention was drawn to the tablet in your hands, updating the status of your previous patient to discharged when Langdon crashed into you. He caught you by the shoulder, pausing to steady you as you clutched the tablet to your chest.

“No running. Pool rules, Langdon.” You scolded him, following his gaze as he glared at someone over your head.

“Can you do me a favour?” He asked, anxiously.

You hummed, eyeing the wordless distaste that Langdon and Santos seemed to garner for each other so early into their shift.

 “Intern did trigger point injections without consulting a resident or attending.”

An audible scoff echoed in the space around you. It was like he knew the reaction you would have when he told you, it was why he had chosen to tell you instead of Robby.

There was such thing as an ER cowboy, doctors Robby and Abbot were prime examples, but they were trained and had experience to make quick, informed judgment. Lowly trained professionals such as Med Students or Interns performing procedures without due cause, consultation or supervision would always sink harshly into your bones, grating against your ribs. You had seen it go awry. Your first year as a resident in the Pitt, you had lost a member of your resident trio to grief after their cowboy maneuver directly resulted in a patient’s death.

“Great, another cowboy.” You muttered before noting the incoming trauma the senior Resident had been originally rushing to attend. “Go, I’ll follow up with the patient.”

You pulled up the patient record, familiarizing yourself with the woman’s medical information before intruding on the case. Santos had not collected nor documented nearly enough information about symptoms before moving forward with the injections. While trigger point would provide the patient with relief, it would do nothing to identity any underlying cause.

Christine Cater. Female. 36 years old. Complaint of chronic headaches and neck pain.

11 on pain scale down to 0 after 2 ccs of IM Marcaine administered by Santos.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself to the patient, offering her a kind smile. “I just want to check a few things and gather a few more details about your headaches, if that’s alright?”

The woman nodded, her temples no longer throbbing since the injections. Her eyes felt steadier under the hospital lights, and her neck was no longer tender but remained stiff.

“Are these types of headaches usual for you?”

“Where are they generally located? How often do they occur?”

“Have you seen a physician previously for your headaches?”

You listened intently as she answered your series of questions, assessing her symptoms to determine underlying cause and if she required any continued care before she could be safely discharged. You gathered that her headaches were chronic, generally beginning intensely in the morning and sometimes returning at night; often the pain would start in the neck area and radiate to affect her eyes or reach full tension status. Previous bloodwork had been clear, but when her previous physician had written her case off she gave up on trying to find help, until this morning when she woke up sure that she was suffering a brain aneurysm.

 “While the trigger point injections are great to relieve knotted muscles, I would like to pursue some bloodwork to rule out any underlying conditions and a CT scan to get a closer look at the physical elements.”

Emily Forster. Bladder infection, antibiotics prescribed. Discharged.

Atlas Kinney. Torn ACL. Awaiting Orthopedics.

Tommy Sinclair. Ingested foreign object- naturally expelled. Observation for internal tearing.

Christine Carter. Headache. Awaiting labs, CT.

You flexed your leg under the desk, attempting to shield your discomfort from any watchful eyes as you sat in front of the computer updating patient charts. You were sure it would make Jack proud to hear you were willingly accepting the comfort of a chair. Your body yearned for the softness of your mattress and solace of your cotton sheets. If you blinked long enough you could feel the coolness of your sheets against your skin, the contrasting warmth of Jack’s thick forearm curled around your midsection, his breath tickling your neck as soft snores escaped lips.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

The sudden voice above your shoulder caused you to jump from the chair, spinning to face a very amused Dana with a glare.

x x x

Tags: @nosebeers @eugene-emt-roe @wolfbc97 @qardasngan

[livwritesstuff]

finally posted that alternating steve/mike-pov fic i've been teasing for ages (at 10pm last night like a lunatic)

In the Spring of 2002, Steve finally gets an answer to a question that has been floating in the background of his brain, the background of his life and the Party’s life like a distant storm cloud for almost fifteen years.

It’s 2002, and Steve is thirty-five, and, for the record, he really had no idea when he woke up that morning he’d be getting any kind of answers to any kind of questions.

This one (the floating one) is about Mike Wheeler, because Mike has been operating like a living question-mark ever since 1990, when he wrapped his car around a tree one night and skipped town before the next morning’s sun could rise, and then he spent the years that followed popping in and out of the rest of their lives like some kind of traveling ghost.

Honestly, Steve has kind of learned to live with it at this point, which sucks, obviously, but Steve’s also spent many years figuring out how to at least partially unlearn his tendency to dive headfirst into other people’s problems without at least considering what might be at stake for him.

“You know, you’re more than just the guy that shows up and helps people get out of shit, right?” Robin had told him once, “You deserve to, like, chase the things that make you happy, or whatever.”

So he did, and thank fuck for that, because now, years and years later, he gets to spend a lazy Saturday morning at home with Eddie, his partner of almost a decade now, and Moe, their eight-month-old foster placement they’re currently in the process of adopting.

Steve has said it before, but Moe has brought a kind of happiness to his world that he hadn’t known existed, and the fact that he and Ed have already had eight months with her is kind of baffling to him.

Eight months isn’t that long, Steve had thought, but then he looks at photos they’d taken all the way back during that first month of Moe’s life and can’t believe how little she’d been, can’t believe how big she’s gotten. She’s even started crawling over the past few weeks, which is totally bonkers because, hello, wasn’t it just yesterday she was this teeny little being, all fragile bones and pink skin and squawking cries? And now she’s crawling?

(Nancy gave him all sorts of shit when Steve recounted that milestone to her and Robin – “She’s not crawling backwards, though, right?” she’d said, the bastard).

So, yeah, long story short, Steve woke up this morning content with the idea of spending the entire weekend hanging around at home with Ed and Moe.

Now, Moe has just finished breakfast (she’s just started to eat solid(-ish) foods, which has made meals their own kind of adventure), and they’ve all migrated into the living room, Steve working on a puzzle and Ed poking around at the pieces, one eye on the Star Trek rerun playing on the TV, while they decide if there’s enough time before Moe’s nap to go on a walk.

And then the buzzer sounds.

And then the buzzer sounds again and again and again.

“The hell?” Steve mutters, looking towards the door with a perplexed look on his face.

“Robin?” Ed ponders, because she’s the only person he can think of who would find that kind of behavior acceptable.

“No…” Steve says slowly, “She and Nance are up in Montreal right now.”

“Alright…” Eddie replies, and still, their buzzer continues to ring over them unrelentingly, “Well, shit, I guess I’ll go see who it is.”

Ed, as Steve is more than well-aware, used to take the fuck around and find out approach to life more often than not. Eight-and-a-half months ago, Ed probably would have just let whoever’s outside into the building first and asked questions later, but that was eight-and-a-half months ago, and now they have Moe, and while Steve won’t speak for Ed, he’ll say for himself that the world seems a hell of a lot scarier now that it includes Moe. The way Ed leaves their apartment, closes the door firmly behind him as he heads down to see who could possibly be outside, instead of…well, any other course of action, speaks for itself better than Steve could that Ed might be feeling something like that too.

Now, it may be true that Steve is a worrier by nature, and it may also be true that those tendencies have skyrocketed ever since they met Moe, but right now he’s not actually all that worried. It’s probably Robin, back home from a work trip earlier than expected, or guests of a neighboring condo who’ve found themselves at the wrong building. It’s probably fine, but Steve still scoops up Moe from where she’d been playing on the rug with a plastic cup (surrounded by toys, Steve will add, but why play with colorful baby toys when her Dada’s abandoned dishware is available?).

Moe points to the door Ed had just locked behind him, then looks back at Steve like she’s making sure he’s looking too.

“Did Dada go outside?” he asks her, “Can you say Dada?”

(She can’t. Eight months is a little too early for first words, but it’s worth a shot).

Moe just continues to look back and forth between Steve and the door Ed had just vanished behind.

“He’ll be right back, sweet pea,” he tells her.

Indeed, Steve hears footsteps and voices out in the hall only a minute or two later, and then Ed is letting himself back into the apartment, and when he does, when he steps through the doorway, it’s with a look on his face like he’s just seen a ghost.

And then Ed steps to the side so Steve can see who'd been ringing their buzzer and he understands that Ed sort of has seen a ghost.

Because Mike Wheeler is standing in the doorway.

read the rest on ao3

[that-weird-mime]

Of course, I couldn't hold back on making an au for very long. My own Underfell- Yellow Au! I'm basing character ideas off 'obsessions'. So, I suppose if you want to differ this UF from another, call it UFO. ^^

More about this and Star below,,

My take on Underfell.. which as far as I can tell, is just edger Undertale. LETS GO! Now have some background.. Starlo grew up in a household where he was very clearly the second son. And for a long time.. he was fine with that.

So fine with the fact he spent a lot of his time in his room after chores, enjoying the very little human content that can be found Underground. Mainly, in the forms of movies smuggled in. In his older teen years, he'd save all the allowance he can, and run off to ask around and pay underhandedly to get more human content. And it only grew.

It, being, his obsession with the villains of human books. From the Sheriff of Nottingham to Buford T. Justice, he found himself drawn to the thought of power. Who wouldn't be?

So, he wrangled up some friends he had around those parts. Ace, local cheat and gambler. Ed, a newcomer to the dunes too strong for his own good. Mooch, petty thief and pickpocket often picked up by the royal guard and nearly killed every time for it, and Moray. The miner's kid, looking for an escape from their family's business.

His business pitch was simple. A fake town, little doozy of a place with all the snaps. A jail, a bar, a hospital, a fake bank to rob, houses, the works. They'd get to run it, and people can pretend they were just a little town on the surface. They'd get paid in 'taxes' and power, and the people get a slice of the surface and entertainment.

The four stopped listening after 'get to run it' and agreed.

Everything went off without a hitch. The people joined out of curiosity, and stayed out of fear of leaving. The Feisty Five declared themselves able to eclipse the swelterstone if they desired, and have the own fun scuffing up the place they created.

And yet.

And yet Star feels like something is missing. Every villain had someone go against them, but these spineless cowards hardly counted as heroes. His first thought..

Ceroba. She was always his better half. Even after she.. left for Chujin, he still cared for her.

Obviously, she declined, because 'the whole thing's a hack'. Star didn't argue, but he was pretty upset after.

His obsession? Finding someone to stop him. Just to complete the fantasy. Just like his movies, his books.. but where was he going to find someone like that?

Someone with so much justice in their soul?

[nandsmi]

my current obsession (buddie/9-1-1) often overlaps with my old obsession (steddie/st) and I can't get it out of my head that it would be a great idea for a fic

The 118 answering to a call at Eddie Munson's manor, famous (retired) rockstar Eddie Munson, well into his fifty-something years old, living peacefully in LA with his lovely pretty husband, Steve Harrington.

Steve, who greets them with a slightly bored and embarrassed expression. He guides them as he explains that Eddie got stuck in the studio vent, convinced that something was inside, probably delirious after having spent the last 72 hours awake and high, composing.

Bobby, assuring: Don't worry, sir, we'll get your husband out of there in no time.

Steve, mean girl mode on: Oh, please, do not bother, take your time. Maybe he will learn a lesson or two, this once.

Hen, midly worried: This happen a lot?

Steve: Eddie being a menace? It is his natural state, but I guess he never have being trapped in the vent before, no.

And naturally, Buddie. I can't decide what scenario I like more:

1. Eddie Diaz, huge fanboy, trying to being professional around his all-time favorite rockstar, but failling awkwardly. And Buck is so jealous about it, glaring at Munson while Steve is watching them, thinking "I can't wait to tell Robin about this", pat-pat Eddie's head once in a while so he would let be treat.

2. Buck aroused by Eddie Munson because omg what is happening that all the men named Eddie are this dark-haired-bambi-eyes deadly beautiful combo? And why Mr. Munson' husband is blushing and obviously flirting with his Eddie?

3. Steve Harrington, pretty boy aged like wine with powerfull DILF/MILF energy, shameless flirting with these hot firefighters, while in the background his husband is severely dehydrated and delirious while Chim is trying to hook up an IV on him unsuccessfully

4. Eddie, dehydrated and delirious, see a blob of blonde hair and blue eyes in front of him, asking him if he is okay and logically concludes "oh, that's Robin" and says before faints "Wow, Buckley, you' huge" and Buck, confused as hell because "how famous singer eddie munson knows my name?"

Also, maybe Robin is visiting Steddie's house and they got stuck or whatever consequences of their shenanigans and they're so embarrassed about it and Steve is almost giving up and calling 9-1-1 when Robin remembers that her baby cousin is a firefighter in LA. Imagine how suprised Buck is to receive a call from "Aunt Rob" in the middle of the night asking him to come by with a chainsaw.

Eddie, huge fanboy of Corrored Coffin, never suspected his best friend has a conection with THE Eddie Munson, but suddenly they are at a manor and Buck is calling Eddie Munson "Uncle Eds". Steve Harrington is "Uncle Stevie". And apparently Buck spent his summers as a teenager with his dad's cousin before Robin came out to her family.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

on the phone with 👑

(cw: mentions of ego-shooter video games; age gap 25/41, nsfw, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, MDNI)

part before: painting his nails

I'm tossing and turning.

In my own bed.

Cursing the notion I had, that I couldn't possibly stay for longer at his place.

On Monday morning, I packed up my stuff and hurried to work, after he made me another latte.

Being a good girl, not getting him to fuck me again, even though I would have rather taken him to bed than myself to work.

Texting König about every single minute thing that came to my mind. And him doing the same.

I sent him a pic while I was out getting lunch with a colleague. And he sent me a pic while he was working out. I almost died right there and then.

Firstly, I never would have thought he would do a mirror selfie.

Secondly...

His hair put up in a haphazard way. Damp strands of it hanging down.

The tank top was a tight fit especially for him, showing off his arms. Sweat staining the front of it, the sheen of wetness on his skin...

The shorts. The sight of his burly thighs had me gripping my desk, trying to get a grip.

Thirdly, that goddamned smile. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

When I had calmed down, my fingers typed out a message in response.

Me: excuse me??? sir??? 🫠 👑: you are excused

He's gonna pay for that one.

When I came home from work, I thought it was eerily quiet in my apartment. Nobody else being here. I mean, I live alone and Mimi greeted me as always. But it seemed like was something off. Missing.

I thought back to when we got my stuff and König just waited patiently for me while I packed some clothes and other necessities. Petting Mimi, his whole attention on the little cat. His tall stature dwarfed my living room, and I was actually surprised he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling. The Morbid Angel logo on his shirt was hidden by the black furball purring against him. Mimi sitting on his chest, not a care in the world, meowing when she saw me.

But there was no 6'10'' giant waiting for me in the living room then.

I willed myself - even though my fingers itched - to not send him message about asking for him to pick me up or stay over at my place. I wanted to give him some space after I had his place under siege for what feel like an eternity, but realistically was just three days. And I managed fine yesterday, his goodbye kisses still lingering. Today, even with all of the messages we sent back and forth...

Can you miss somebody like that after knowing them for such a short time?

I knew that he most likely spent the whole evening at home. Alone. Because he likes being alone. Probably reading or listening to the new Trivium vinyl he bought that came in the mail yesterday. Or both.

I stayed home as well, playing games on my computer – I actually started up Counterstrike and tried to play some matches –, but my mind always wandered back to him. Mimi came running, pushing her head against my legs, demanding attention. I lifted her off the floor to set her onto my lap and didn't see the enemy which got me eliminated. The irony was not lost on me, as I thought back to our conversation. How worried he seemed with how I would perceive him when he talked about his work. And now I was sitting here, playing a shooter game to try and relax after work.

I shook my head, at the absurdity of it, and snapped a quick pic in between matches to send to him.

My phone ding-ed while I was in a match, and I tried to ignore it.

As soon as I got the chance though, I opened the message and he sent a picture back. From the waist down, a book on his lap, a beer on the table beside him. The wall of books in the background. The whole room dimly lit except for the opened pages.

God damn it, I just want to sit right next to him on that couch.

me: looking comfy, old man 👑: thank you, i am indeed very comfy 👑: brat

I chuckled to myself and played a few more rounds before I went to bed.

And now I'm here, tossing and turning in my bed, without the big guy right beside me.

I pull the chat up again. Looking at the pictures he sent me today.

me: u still awake? 👑: yes, everything okay? me: can't sleep 👑: me neither

While I'm still contemplating my next message, the crown lights up my phone as a caller ID. Surprise spreads through me for just a moment before I pick up.

Hi?

Hi. Uh, I hope it's okay that I just called.

Sure, I can't sleep anyways.

I ignore the little flutter in my stomach.

What is it? Something on your mind?

‘Yeah, you.’ is what I want to say.

No, just restless.

He sighs.

I feel that.

A little silence falls over us, just for a moment.

What was that game you played before?

Oh, uh- Counterstrike. I'm no good at it though.

He laughs.

Why do you play it then?

It's still fun, I guess. Even if I curse at the monitor like a goddamn sailor.

Oh, I couldn't imagine your sweet mouth doing something as filthy as that.

Yeah, yeah. We both know what kind of filthy things you're imagining with my mouth.

Maybe.

I can hear the grin on his face which makes me grin in return.

Have you ever played?

I never played, no. Don't want to spend my free time with...

He pauses.

Work.

Oh right, I understand, sorry. This must be weird then.

No, don't worry. I know that people play those games for fun.

Yeah, I know, still.

You gotta show me some time.

Really?

Yeah, why not.

Okay, then, I'll show you my shitty gameplay with pleasure.

Which makes us both laugh.

I gotta confess something.

What do you have to confess?

I already had my car keys in my hand.

You did?

Mhm. But then I remembered what you said yesterday morning, about needing to go home and you couldn't possibly stay any longer… and I understand if you need some space. So, I wasn't sure if you'd even open the door for me, if I knocked.

A moment of silence.

Can I confess something as well?

Sure.

I have been thinking all evening how fucking stupid that was of me. And I would've opened the door for you in an instant.

Another silence, this one a little heavier.

But a little smile stalks on my face, an idea of what to say next.

What would you do if you were here?

He chuckles.

Kiss that filthy mouth of yours. And then the top of your head because that's closest to your dirty mind.

What dirty mind?

Yeah, yeah, I see right through you, Fräulein.

I don't know what you're talking about.

No? So, you aren't thinking about me fucking you from behind right now? Or maybe about you spreading your legs and me eating you out, your delicious pussy right in my face? Or about my dick pushing into your mouth until you gag around it, hm?

I clear my throat.

Well, now I am for sure.

Good. Because I'm thinking about it as well.

König?

Yes, Liebes?

I- There's something that always helps me sleep better.

His voice deepens.

And what's that?

Oh, you already know.

I need to hear you say it. What do you want?

I hesitate, feeling a little shy now.

I want to come.

He groans.

Fuck, can't deny you if you ask so prettily.

The tone of his voice sends a little shiver down my spine, but I'm unsure what to say now, the words on the tip of my tongue.

What- what should I do?

I can tell you what I would do if I was there, and you can tell me how it feels, okay?

Okay.

Put the phone next to you and put me on speaker. You're gonna need both of those hands.

I do exactly as he tells me, lying back into my sheets.

You're on speaker.

Good. What are you wearing, sweetcheeks?

I giggle a little.

A shirt and panties.

Hmm, my favorite. I would get rid of your underwear in an instant though.

I laugh and follow his suggestion. I already noticed his disdain for underwear, on himself as well.

Then I would slowly push my hand up your shirt, feeling your soft skin.

Until I reach your breasts, squeezing them.

I do as he says, but it doesn't quite feel the same with my hands, compared to his bigger ones.

I would graze my thumb over your nipples, feeling them harden from my touch.

I'd like to lick them, bite them just lightly, until you squirm under me.

I pinch them, his words mixing with the sensations of my touch, until I softly sigh.

Feeling good?

Mhm.

The sound is more a moan than anything else.

My hand would slowly wander down, until I'm there, just were you want me.

I whimper when my fingers reach my clit, swollen and sensitive.

That bad, huh?

Well, somebody sent a picture of them all sweaty and hot after working out. And I still can't think straight, just thinking about that.

He laughs.

You say such nice things, Liebes.

What would you do next?

I know that I sound desperate. But I need more.

I’d move my hand just a little further down. Not pushing into you just yet. Just teasing. Softly stroking over your wet pussy.

I whine, needy, but I don't dare to stray from his order, getting myself worked up with the teasing touches.

Just feeling how fucking wet you are for me, before pushing my finger into you.

I push one of my fingers inside me, the one digit not nearly being enough.

Miss your fingers, they're bigger.

He hums. A soft erotic sound.

I suppose they are.

I’d add a second one, slowly moving inside you, just how you like it. Hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan and roll your eyes back. Just how I like it.

His voice is getting deeper, his breaths a little more labored, as he keeps talking which sends a shiver down my spine. Knowing that guiding me through it like that, hearing me sigh in response, does it for him as well lets a little smile form on my face.

I do as he says, but I also get a little frustrated, because my fingers can't quite reach like his, my hips squirming, desperate for more friction.

Need more.

I whine.

Okay, then. Brat.

I would flip you on your front, so I could look at your ass.

I can't help the little eyeroll, while a grin stalks onto my face.

But you aren't here, and you can't actually see my butt.

Pssscht, I'm imagining it just fine. Come on, turn around, do as I tell you.

And I do, the rustling of my sheets telling him as far.

Good.

Just this word alone, from his lips, does things to me.

Now, lift up your hips just a little and push your fingers in from behind.

I follow his instructions, lifting my ass, so I can reach a little better, two of my fingers slipping into my pussy. I groan a little bit.

How's that? A little deeper?

Yes.

I sigh.

Good. Now, put your other fingers on your clit.

I push my arm under my body, placing the hand, right between my legs. My fingertips are digging into the sensitive nub and I rub against them needily. I know now why he wanted me to reposition myself.

Oh fuck.

The sounds I’m making are telling him what he wants to know.

Just like that.

Move your hips, fuck yourself on your fingers.

And I do as he tells me, the touches getting me worked up fast, the pressure on my clit changing with every pass, while my fingers are pushing into my pussy.

Hmm, feeling good?

Yeah, just wish it was you inside me.

That little confession dropped out of me before I could think too hard about it.

Fuck, me too. I would bury my dick deep inside you. Fuck you from behind. Hard, just how you like it.

Remember how I fucked you into that bar counter?

How could I forget?

We need to do that again sometime... You took me so fucking perfectly.

I bite my lip, stifling the moans that get louder and louder, the images of us fucking spurring me on, while I finger-fuck myself.

I wanna hear you. Please.

My head turns in the direction of the phone again, making sure he gets to hear all the sounds that are dropping from my lips.

Good girl.

His praise washes over me and I almost choke up when the pull inside gets too much.

Close, so clo-

Fuck, yes. Come. That's what you wanted, isn't it?

The growl in his voice tips me over the edge, moving my hips frantically in search for more friction, when my orgasm crashes down over me.

My moans fill my bedroom, and surely find their way into the phone.

I can hear him groan as well, the sounds from the speaker sounding a lot like a slick hand moving up and down quickly.

Fuck, he’s jerking off too. That thought registers in my brain, before my fingers hit that spot inside me again. The zap of pleasure makes me shake, the waves of arousal washing over me, while my fingers strum over my clit.

Fuuuck…

A low breathy curse that escapes his lips as he comes as well.

Panting, mine and his from the speaker, is all I hear for the next moments.

I untangle myself, my fingers slipping out of me, turning onto my back again. Feeling my own wetness on my hands. I clean myself haphazardly before I grab the phone again.

That was… something else.

Yeah… you drive me crazy, you know that?

I’m still just breathing, trying to calm myself down. My god, I don’t think I ever came that hard with just my fingers inside me. The images he put in my mind… his deep soft voice alone. It does stuff to me. Hearing him say that... how I drive him crazy as well, it makes me all giddy inside.

I feel the familiar fuzzy feeling sweep over me, and I wish I could snuggle into him right now, after he made me come, and my hazy mind is still looking for the right thing to say now.

Feeling better now?

Yes, much better.

Sleepy, too?

Yes, that too. I always get a little sleepy afterwards.

I've noticed.

Like on cue, I yawn.

Thank you.

He chuckles again. And I don't think I'll ever get enough of that sound.

No need to thank me. I'll make you come any day of the week.

I- meant for calling, but that works too.

The grin on my face probably mirrors his, staring off into the distance with our phones pressed to the ear. And he's still not here next to me.

Gotta get myself under the shower, because I made a mess of myself again and I got nobody here to clean me up.

That makes me laugh, the joke and the filthy thought cutting through the sleepiness, when I'm yawning again.

You do that, can't have you all messy like that.

No, we can't.

I can hear the little filthy grin in his voice, and I can imagine how he must look like right now. Sitting on the couch or his bed. His dick still out, all messy and sticky with his cum. His hair hanging over the side of his face, as he relaxes into the cushions. And that god damn smirk of his.

Silence, just two little moments, before I ask what I wanted to ask.

Can you come over tomorrow?

Sure, Kleine, whatever you want.

Okay, good. Good night, König.

Good night, sleep well.

That's the last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep, still gripping my phone tight with my fingers.

next part: gaming with him or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

[readychilledwine]

Kissed by Fire pt 1

Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.

Warnings - rhysand is kind of a dick, signs of depression and PTSD, trauma, implied EDs, kind of poisoning

An - and we begin 💜

Part 2

Rhysand tapped his fingers on the desk next to Amelia, his eyes narrowed as the oldest sister stared out the window.

She had been the last to wake up. She was withdrawn from them, constantly sat in the cushioned window ledge and wiping tears from her face.

He had expected more from Amelia. She was supposed to be a rock, a strong influence, yet here she was, mind lost in her grief, in her confusion, her longing for their father. “You need to get up,” he commanded. “You need to stand on your feet and be strong for your sisters. They need you.”

Amelia sighed deeply, that familiar weight of being the oldest pressing down on her shoulders once again.

It felt like carrying the weight of the world. It felt like being forced to sacrifice her own health and happiness for her sisters again.

It reminded her of nights spent in a brothel laid beneath some man she had no interest in for a small amount of coin. It reminded her of hiding the coins with Feyre's earnings so no one would ask questions or ask if she was okay.

“If my adult sisters are making the choice to hide in a room and refuse to eat, how exactly would me going and demanding that of them make a difference?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, scoffing at the question. “You never cared for them while you all were starving in that cabin,” Amelia flinched at the accusation. “The least you could do is pretend to care now.” She looked away from him as the first night spent in the whorehouse, handing her virginity away to a complete stranger twice her age came forward.

She didn't see Rhysand's face fall, his eyes becoming sympathy as you stood. “Right. I forgot about Feyre's pretty story of how she kept our family afloat.” The true sentence should have been, “I forgot she didn't know,” yet Amelia stuck to her self defense. “I will try. Do not expect me to join you, though.”

Nesta, Elain, and Amelia ate in silence in Amelia's room. If you could call what the three of them did eating.

Nesta pushed the food around. Elain stared out the window. Amelia sat there, shivering despite being the closest to the fire and in heavy wool socks and a sweater provided by the House.

She could feel a chill deep inside of her. Like the Cauldron had left a reminder deep inside of her of what happened. “Have you two been cold since-” she couldnt even finish the sentence, but she didn't need to.

Elain shook her head softly. “No, just. Lost.”

Nesta also shook her head before smiling sadly. “Have you tried to bathe yet?” Amelia paled at the idea. She had several times. Hoping the hot water would melt the ice settling in her veins and bones. “I had the same reaction,” Nesta sad softly.

Elain also nodded, tears streaming down her face, “It's like bathing takes me right back there. I cam feel it burning my skin all over again from how cold it was, I feel myself struggling to breathe, i-” Amelia silenced her younger sister with a hand on hers.

“Don't, little tulip. Don't talk about it unless you're ready to.” Elain leaned into her, closing her eyes as Amelia ran her fingers through her soft hair. “I'm sorry I can't fix this.”

Nesta smiled for the first time in a week. “You aren't a miracle worker, Lia. We don't expect you to fix it.”

Amelia's dreams that night had her transporting to a cabin. It was warm with a soft fire crackling in the background as she looked around. She could hear the voices of two males in another room. One was deep and smooth, although somewhat sarcastic as he spoke to a deep familiar voice. Shadows trailed through Amelia's fingers and the voices stopped. A door opening and footsteps coming towards her.

Amelia shot awake, her eyes adjusting to the darkness to a figure sitting on her bed. Rhysand had his hands holding his nose, his eyes glazed over slightly. “Do you know where you just were?” She shook her head, take a few deep breaths and then the tea he offered her. “I need you to drink that. You followed Azriel on a mission. In your sleep.”

He looked up sighing heavily. “You didn't fully transport your body there. Just your soul and mind. I need you to drink that so you don't do it again.”

Amelia sniffed it, eyes watering at how bitter it smelled. “What is it?”

Rhys looked at her, eyes cold as he distanced himself from what he was asking her to do. “It's faebane. It'll put whatever the fuck the Cauldron did to you to sleep.”

Rhys laid Amelia down, having watched her finish the cup and fall into a drug induced sleep. He sensed Azriel landing at the house and waited.

The Spymaster pushed Amelia's balcony doors open, looking between her and Rhysand. “How? That cabin is heavily warded to protect-”

Rhys held a hand up. “Amren is looking into it. Until we have an answer, we keep her on a low dose faebane to keep her powers locked down and quiet.”

Azriel looked at him, slightly shocked. “So poison her instead of helping her control it? Rhys, we know better than this. Her powers will eat her alive.”

“We will figure it out before than, Azriel.” Rhys looked at Amelia, watching as she shivered. “Did he have any ideas for helping her stay warm?”

Azriel nodded, pulling out a heavy sweater in a cream and another in burgundy, and then a soft fluffy pumpkin colored blanket. They reeked of cinnamon and apples, the fabric was unnaturally warm after having been enchanted. “He says we owe him.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Of course we do. The snake doesn't do a single thing unless it benefits him.” he took the blanket, thanking Azriel softly before tucking Amelia in and listening as she released a soft content sigh. She snuggled deeply into her new blanket, shivering stopping almost immediately. “Did he say what he wants?” Rhys moved her hair out of her face. Guilt eating him alive as he saw how peaceful she looked in this forced state.

“He'll call us when he's ready.”

Taglist : @justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle

[scarlettoceaneyes]

Hi, darling! I was hoping I could request a fic where the reader and Jacob have been friends for a while and he's imprinted on them, and he confesses it in a cutesy romantic kinda way. Like planning an evening for them and stuff? Just ask if ya need more details💜

Love to! Thanks booooooo 🩵

It’s Never Too Late for Our First Date- Jacob x imprint

Jacob was your best friend since like birth considering you are born on the same day. Bonding over your shared birthdays, plus moms who were friends, you literally spent your life together. Eventually Embry and Quil joined your group and there was the beginning of a close friendship with your guys. They took care of you, protected you, caused chaos with you, and often was the reason you never were asked out by anyone. You didn’t know why, but every guy who flirted or asked for your number never called back or just ghosted you before the first date. The guys always talked it up that it wasn’t you, but you quickly stopped believing them. It was starting to eat at your insides more than it should. Little did you know the guys were making sure no one ever got a chance with you on purpose. Jacob was whipped, but too afraid to tell you he loved you. Bella was a short distraction but played out rather quickly after she tried saying hurtful things about you. Jacob realized he didn’t want to take the chance on your friendship with a girl who would tear it apart.

Turning into a wolf didn’t break the bond either due to you accidentally witnessing the guys phase. You didn’t have to keep that secret long when your friends all joined the pack rather quickly back to back. Sam always was more understanding about your group knowing they would all phase except you eventually. Training the new pack members took all his energy. You also spent time with Emily and Kim who then let the word imprint slip in front of you. The guys filled you in, yet you felt like you knew the feeling. Considering you were all close friends, if one of the pack did imprint, you would expect them to tell you before now. Jacob was scared of losing you if he told you he imprinted when he first saw you after phasing…also that thinking of your smile and laugh calms him down to phase back. The imprint made all his feelings stronger, along with his worries about your safety.

Slamming your locker door shut at school, you were met with Jacob’s face and a huge grin staring you down.

“…what did you do? Why are you looking at me like that.”

“Happy birthday! I have your present for you after school if you want to come somewhere with me? Just us because it’s our day today.” Jacob subtly reminded you how every year on your shared birthday you did something special with only you two. Eagerly agreeing, he walked you to class with the promise to meet you in an hour for the big surprise. Excitement bubbled within you causing math to be a blur.

As Jacob pulled out of the school parking lot, he glanced at you. He couldn’t hold it in anymore between the imprint and you feeling rejected by all the guys who asked you out (besides the jealousy and anger he felt), he listened to Embry and Quil to tell you the truth. All of it.

Jacob pulled into the meadow and lake that he taught you to ride the bikes at. You did it but hated it and said never again. The snow capped mountains in the background and a picnic laid out on the lake dock brought tears to your eyes almost. He had never went to all this trouble. Suddenly fairy lights and candles lit up the dock as Ed Sheeran quietly started playing. You turned around while Jacob held out his hand to you asking you to sit, you were nervous, but curious.

“I should’ve told you months ago but I was a chicken and scared to mess up our friendship. I imprinted on you, and I should’ve told you since you knew but I was afraid you would reject it, so I would lose an imprint and my best friend. Also, while I’m apologizing you never went out with guys because we blocked them from getting together with you. I’ve loved you since I met you Y/N. I’m so so sorry for holding it in, and if you can’t forgive me well i'll deserve it.” Jacob’s confession hung in the air as you slowly took a deep breath with a million thoughts running through your brain at once. You sunk down at this point to the blanket while your mouth hung open in shock. Minutes passed without a word from your mouth and Jacob broke out into a sweat, preparing to tell you to forget it and he was so sorry. Finally, you threw yourself onto him into a hug, with a kiss to his cheek. “You’re all I wanted too, but I thought you didn’t want me. Also, makes sense how it seemed like I felt the bond when you first saw me. I thought if I did have an imprint they would’ve told me, so I talked myself out of it. When Kim and Emily explained it, the feelings were so real like I experienced them. I’m so glad I did. Jacob, I’m scared to know what you want though. I can’t lose you.” Jacob held you closer, kissing your hair and shushing you to calm down your racing heart. “Hey hey Y/N, I’m not going anywhere okay? You decide where we go and what happens okay? I follow and protect you. I don’t want to trap you in my world.” But you were already there.

Suddenly you snapped out of it and looked into his eyes. “Jacob I want you, heck I wish we could live forever together because one life isn’t enough. You never said anything, so I thought you didn’t want me.”

“Promise me something?” Jacob looked into your soul through your eyes. Nodding, he continued. “Promise me that you won’t ever think you are alone again. I’m here, forever. Okay? I want you in all ways possible forever. I love you Y/N. It feels so good to finally say that.” You laughed with him through the tears. He wiped them and looked to you for the decision on what you want, but he knew because he knew you. With the kiss you finally gave each other, it was obvious that you were staying forever. He breaks contact and asks “soooo does this mean you will be my girlfriend and accept the imprint? One day becoming my fiance and wife? Let’s have a family and a dog. Go to concerts, go on vacations away from the pack, have you to always be there when I come home. I don’t want to ever be alone without you again. I can’t promise money or that we won’t have hardships, or even that we will never fight. But I do promise to give you all of me everyday. If I don’t tell me. I want this to work more than I want to live. Without you it’s nothing, even without the imprint, it was always you” quickly nodding your head, you whisper a yes. Sensing your feelings and those happy tears Jacob knew exactly how you felt. Mirror hearts and souls.

“So how is this for a first date? Never too late even though we’ve known each other since like ever?” “Perfect, what a high standard you have set for men everywhere. I would’ve loved just you too. But this is more than I dreamed and so perfect.” Kissing your lips again, he took your hand and twirled you in slow circles. Asking for a dance, he pulled you close as the song faded into the next.

Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph” started playing (your favorite song). Jacob pulled you up into his arms to dance. It seemed like the right thing to do. As you swirled slowly together he sang along in whispers to your ear.

Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes,

But it’s the only thing that I know.

When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes.

It is the only thing that makes us feel alive.

….you won’t ever be alone. Wait for me to come home.

[yawarakaizai]

pm!dazai taking reader on a date after school, but it’s somehow awkward! tried to get you a stuffie from a claw machine but failed miserably, so he shot the glass out of frustration.. something like that hehe ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

ⵌ HANGIN' OUT THE PASSENGER SIDE OF HIS BEST FRIEND'S RIDE

SENDER Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT PM Dazai Osamu (BSD) CONTENTS You were a horrible pair. You two were unlikely and the path ahead of you could have never predicted such thing to happen. You aren't sure why or how, but you found yourself the centre of Osamu Dazai's attraction. NOTE fluff, reader and dazai are 16/17, brief chuuya, jealousy, young love COMPANY No Scrubs

A/N wrote th is thro ughou t th e sch ool d ay ;3; forgi ve any mist a kes or rush ed writ ing !!! eeeeeeE EEEE i lov requ ests ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

It was embarrassing at this point.

You disliked bringing any sort of unwanted attention to yourself more than anything else. And yet, you owe it to the brunette by your side who attracted stares like a magnet.

" Owwh, fuck! " His drawn out swear accompanied by the stomping of his shoe against the carpeted floor. It's biometric, vibrant patterns splattered across a dark black background sickened you to stare for too long.

" I told you, these are a scam ", you attempted to protest against his insistence that he was sure to win this time, no take-backs. " Why not buy a ticket to the bowling alley instead of wasting it on these? " You remained temperate in opposition to his rowdy and indecent behaviour. You adopted the traits of an older sister, or a mother.

" No way! I spent too much to give up now. " Your head ached. " Look, if I keep inching it closer to the drop, I'll be sure to get it. "

And so, the poor joystick would continue to be abused, 200 yen being inserted into the comparator with every miss, Dazai's agitation growing with each failure.

It had been a sultry evening after school. Gathering your belongings and preparing to take the daily commute home, the pitter-patter of heavy footsteps ran behind you to reveal none other than Dazai Osamu.

He was somewhat of an enigma to everyone who knew him, even those that never exchanged a word with him knew of his name.

Dazai had a horrible track-record and even worse attendance. With a mysterious bandage over his right eye.

Despite his lack of punctuality and participation in classes, he not once has ever failed an exam. Many rumours circulated that he'd cheat - though no evidence of such was ever received. Others thought he must've slept his way to good grades.

Or, he was just inhumanely intelligent.

" Y/N! Y/N! " His ecstatic voice beckoned you to stop walking as he had finally caught up to you, bending over to catch his breath. " Let's visit the arcade together! "

You didn't know what possessed you to accept.

" Oy! Leave 'er alone, moron. Some people actually have work to get to after school. "

And there was his companion, Chuuya. Underestimating him is like a death wish. He was short. Horribly, unfortunately short. Sometimes, you'd feel bashful for the fact he'd have to look up at you sometimes.

Unlike Dazai, Chuuya's absence from school wasn't intentional.

No, not at all. Chuuya never missed a day of school on his own accord. His record full of missed days were from suspensions.

Often getting into fights with anyone, he has never lost a fight.

The duo had a dynamic you couldn't quite grasp.

And then there was you in the middle of it all.

Dazai had lured you into the friend-group about two years ago, when you were all put in the same base class and Dazai, in his extroverted glory, made attempts to suck up to all in class.

You listened to how the girls would swoon and whisper amongst themselves about the legend that was Dazai Osamu, and once he reached you, you couldn't be less impressed than what he had to offer.

" Oh, c'mon Y/N! It won't take too long, we never hang out anymore! "

His sad attempt at desperate puppy eyes lightened your day a little, so you thought you should humour him, just this once.

You didn't know much about Dazai and Chuuya's private life and you didn't pry into the territory either.

All you knew was that they were filthy rich and had a connection to the principal, Ogai Mori. Otherwise, they would've been expelled a long time ago.

" Let it go, Dazai. It's not worth it. " You put your hand on his shoulder as he leaned forward, nose barely touching the glass of the claw machine as he tried to focus on getting just what he wanted.

" But you looked at it! " He whined, digging into his pockets as the machine played a sound of defeat. " And? "

" And that means I need to get it for you! "

He insisted profusely that it'll be worth it, and you continued to doubt him. You've been standing by his side for thirty minutes at this point and not once has he won a prize.

You remarked to him that the game was purposely rigged, pointing out how weak the claw was and estimating the plushies within were weighing a little over the maximum capacity something so weak would be able to grasp for more than two seconds. That, and also how the claw would never close properly, inching in barely and dropping what toy it had luckily managed to hold onto.

And that degrading sound of humiliation. A squeaky, robotic coquettish voice repeating itself 'Better luck next time!' over and over.

Dazai was not losing to a machine.

Your stomach grumbled with hunger, and it was becoming clear that you both were growing with unrest at this machine.

" You kids still going at that? "

An arm propped itself on top of the roof of the claw machine, you looked up to see a worker had made his way over to you both. Dazai, did not look up from the game.

" I tried to get him to stop ", you mumbled, looking away from him. You'd always get shy at people older than you. You weren't exactly timid, but you were raised to be respectful. " He wants to win it for me. " It sounded oddly romantic when you put it that way.

" Yeah? You sure he can do it? " The man laughed at the truth. " So you two are on a date? " He overstayed his welcome and you began to wonder if it was usual for employees to wedge themselves into customers business.

" Yeah. We are. " Dazai answered for you, slotting in more coins for yet another try.

" Here, move li'l man, I got this. " Shoving Dazai away by the hip, the white-haired man. Begrudgingly, Dazai said nothing.

And almost with no effort at all, the man easily got the claw to clasp around the exact seal plush you wanted.

He must have been watching you both for a while to know what you wanted.

Although you kept assuring Dazai you didn't need it, you couldn't help the way your eyes sparkled as the man handed it to you with a smug smile.

" Oh! Thank you, sir! Thank you! " You took it from his hand with joy, looking at the fat cushion with adoration. It was simply adorable! You bowed your head repeatedly in gratitude, though felt it was simply not enough.

You almost forgot about Dazai until your ears deafened with the sound of a loud bang and the crashing of glass.

On impulse, you dropped to your knees with your hands over your ears protectively, unsure as to what just happened. Peeking through your tightly shut eyes, you saw that you were the only one to have dropped down and everyone else was as normal as ever.

Before you were even able to question, you uncovered your ear to hear Dazai converse with the man.

" How sad, I guess when you're making minimum wage you figure out how to make your job interesting. " Dazai cocked his pistol like second nature, and behind the legs of the employee you were crouched behind, you peered between his legs up at Dazai with wide, lost eyes.

Looking down at you, Dazai looked pissed.

" Didn't mean to scare you. Get up, we're leaving. "

The employee and Dazai seemed to know each other. You figured by the way the older man was cool about the whole ordeal, almost like he'd done everything intentionally.

You shakily rose to your feet, at a loss for words, and stared with astonishment as Dazai began to gather multiple stuffed toys from the now-broken claw machine and hold them in his arms after tucking his pistol away.

" But- you- the- "

You tripped over your words and found yourself unable to comprehend what had just happened.

" Not gonna run way with your Clyde, Bonnie? " The employee joked, stepping out of your way.

You felt this to be illegal. Maybe because it was. You did not want to aid in a robbery even if the employee was not actively stopping you. Before you could even act, Dazai grabbed you by the arm and ran ahead of you, dragging you behind him as he laughed, your other arm held tightly around the seal plush, afraid to let it go.

" Holy shit, I was so cool! " He shrilled, your shorter legs barely able to keep up with his strides.

" Dah-zai! " You panted out as he kept on running.

Your adrenaline rang in your ears and the heart in your chest beat rapidly as the two of you ran, jumped, hopped over valleys, onto the stepping stones of the river and through the bushes of the dark forest.

" Y/N! "

Dazai yelled out to you. At this point, many plushies in his arms had fallen, yet your intertwined hands never once budged open.

" Whah! Wh-What! " You tried to match his energy, but you were far too exhausted.

Finally, you both collapsed into the cold grass surrounding by large oak trees.

The night sky looking down on wild star-crossed students.

" I think I.. think I love you, Y/N " He said between deep breaths, both your limbs spread out as you tuned to the sound of crickets, the birds and the rapid breathing of one another.

You didn't know what you were thinking, or if you were even thinking coherently, though..

" I think I love you too, 'samu. "

©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3

[windbelle]

Is there any aspect of Astarion that you feel you specifically created in him?

Newbon: I think it’d be remiss of me to say I brought this to Astarion. I took Stephen [Rooney]’s words, which were beautiful, and I did things with them. This is what Stephen told me after the initial demo when I sort of quasi-auditioned, demo-ed for Asatarion. Stephen reviewed it. He liked what I was doing… He didn’t predict the things that I was doing with the character. So they were a surprise to him, which he liked. He then started writing towards the rhythm that I was trying out with the character because he liked it. I think the word “Darling” became more of a thing after he heard me say one line that had the word “Darling” in it, and it wasn’t supposed to be like a thing for him, but it sort of became like an anchor point for Astarion, which I think was really interesting.

Newbon: I didn’t improvise any of the lines. The lines of dialog were beautifully written. But what I did do is the cadence, the habits, the mannerisms, the different jumps and changes, the theatricality, the facade of him, all that kind of stuff I brought in, which isn’t scripted per-se, but I’m obviously following Stephen and the other writers who contributed towards the Astarion’s words and just brought my own take on it, my own flavor on it.

I did a lot of background work, I did a lot of character creation work myself. I spent a long time, over four years, really cultivating different aspects. And I thought a lot about his habits. I brought in a lot of different methodology, from method work, movement work, creature and character design. I spent a lot of work.

This was not something that I just switched on and got into. This took a lot of experimentation to find what was right, especially with things like the voice and particular habits he would do for deflection or dismissing you. I wanted to build very strong habits into him so that even if he was saying one thing, his body might give himself away or what his real intent was. And I think largely we got pretty successful at that because I think you can watch his physicality and realize he’s saying the opposite of what he’s saying.

There was a lot of fun to be had. But yeah, I worked my socks on this role and it was great. It was four years of joy. It was great. Four and a half years of joy.

So, speaking of that work, you did building his lore…

Newbon: Not his lore, the lore is set by the writers, building his life, I think.

Perfect, building his life. Given all that work, do you have, in the fandom, we call it a head-canon? Do you have any headcanons about Astarion that are not explicitly said in the game?

Newbon: I have his background, and I developed aspects of his background that aren’t talked about because that’s a method tool to help live the character’s life. Okay, well, in the past, he used to do things like this. Therefore, that’s a habit that he would carry on into this new life, being a vampire and being a slave, essentially.

So, I took habits from his past that aren’t scripted and developed those myself. Nobody knows that. Nobody needs to be told that. But what it does do is that if I’m put into a new context of a new scene, I know how he’s going to react habitually and also his wants and needs and objectives, anyway. All of that factors into the choice I will then make in-line with physical movement because I have his life in my head. So, if you want to call that a head-canon. That’s kind of like a historic head canon.

What I don’t do is head-canon the future of beyond the story because that story’s happened.

Is there anything you can share there? He loves wool and socks or something.

Newbon: Yeah. There’s a thing where Astarion always checks his nails when he is trying to just dominate people. He dismisses them with a head turn, usually to the left. He does this to put people in their place. To make very them acutely aware that he’s in control.

......

[lillaydee]

In Time Part 8

Rancher Joel Miller / Reader

You lost your dear Uncle. Your TV Star boyfriend dumped you. You needed a job. You got one at a ranch in Wyoming. Where you met Joel. A very grumpy man. Grumpy man has issues.

WARNINGS:

Grumpy Joel, Hurt Joel, Grieving Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Mentions of Hostage Situation and Shooting, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 7

---

Joel wanted to keep kissing you.

But you froze.

So he pulled back, said Happy New Year and pretended to enjoy the fireworks.

But he wasn’t watching the fireworks. He was reading your body language.

You seemed hesitant. Were you mad? Did he cross the line?

But now he knew what your lips on his felt like, and it was amazing. In his head, he was kind of hoping for one of those moments where the new year kiss turned into a real one. But he guessed not.

You didn’t slap him, though. So, is that a good thing?

You stood there, willing him to kiss you again. You froze. Fuck, why did you freeze? You were just shocked if you were being honest. You didn’t think he would go for the lips. You thought he’d give you a quick peck on the cheek.

But now you knew what his lips felt like on yours.

And they were glorious.

This was one of those times you wished one of your movie fantasies would come true. That the new year kiss would turn into a real one. Fireworks in the background and everything. You wish you had the courage to just pull him back down to you and kiss him again. But you were a lady.

And unfortunately, when not grumpy, Joel was a gentleman.

Shit.

What a missed opportunity.

******************************************

You actually thought that this was easy money. Your workload was light. Your days were spent going on rounds and treating minor wounds, before helping Bill muck the stalls. You had gotten so fit from scooping poo alone. So much poo. Who needed a gym when there was this much poo to scoop?

But then, January came. And with it came the calving season.

Fucking hell.

You knew calving was a great source of income for the ranch, but you had seriously underestimated the number of calves a ranch this size would have. Not to mention the other, smaller three that surrounded it.

You were busy. Thank God for Frank.

You were practically out on call every other day. You had to alternate between ranches one night – Frank had dropped you off and went to another, but there were some complications with the mother cow he was birthing. The rancher, Jimmy, kindly drove you over, and Frank went back to Jimmy’s to finish your job. By the time it was over, it was morning, and you walked into the chow hall bleary eyed and practically unconscious.

Joel greeted you, worry written all over his face. He sat both you and Frank down and made both of you a plate. You couldn’t even remember if you actually ate anything. The next thing you remember, you were on an unfamiliar bed.

A bed that smelt a lot like Joel.

Your head was fuzzy. It was only 10 am, but you were awoken by the sounds of a snowplow. You got out of bed and went to the door nearest to it. The engine cut. You could hear Joel talking to someone. You peered down and saw Joel talking to Ed in a low voice. Ed looked up and saw you.

“Sorry, Doc! Didn’t know you were sleeping. I’ll continue later. Go back to sleep.”

“No, that’s alright. Don’t stop on account of me. I should probably get up anyway. Lots to do.”

“You must be tired, I heard you were up all night.” He looked at Joel for a second, before looking back up at you. He smiled, patted Joel on the shoulder and walked off.

Uh… what did he mean by that?

Joel looked up and saw you, trying to read your facial expressions from where he was standing. His phone went off, an alarm, it seemed, and he quickly walked back inside.

That’s when it clocked on you. You were on his balcony. The one that’s just outside his bedroom.

This must be his house. His bedroom.

His bed.

Oh. My. God. You slept on Joel’s bed. In his bedroom.

You went downstairs, Frank sleeping soundly on the couch. Okay, that’s better. You two must have slept here because you were too tired to go home. Phew.

“Morning.”

You jumped.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

He had his hands up, your mug in his hand. He handed it to you. He watched you with a nervous look on his face as you took a sip.

Hey, this was your tea. You took another sip. This was your tea. From your cabin. Made just the way you liked it. You took another sip, eyes closing at the sensation as the warmth from the tea covered your body. You opened your eyes, his nervous face coming clear in your line of sight.

“Is it okay? Did I offend you?”

“What?”

“You are particular about your tea. Did I make it okay?”

You couldn’t help smiling.

“It’s very good. Just how I like it. Thank you.”

He released a held-up breath, nodding happily, seemingly relieved he hadn’t offended you. He went back into the kitchen. You followed him. He was getting something from the warmer.

���You fell asleep while eating your breakfast. I saved it for you, but I could make you something else if you prefer?”

Oh God.

“I didn’t faceplant into the plate or anything did I?” you asked, horrified at the possibility.

He gave you a soft laugh, shaking his head no.

“Hey, where did you get my tea?” you asked, as you sat down and began to eat. Your stomach was growling.

“Ellie ran to your office to get it for you. We didn’t want you to wake up without your tea. Apparently you could be a grump without it,” he said, a cheeky look on his face.

“Says the Grumpus.”

He laughed. You took another sip of tea.

“Did you make this? How did you know how I like it?”

He looked at his feet, “Watched you make it when we were at your place, remembered it…”

You were touched. In all your life, only Benny and your mom had remembered how you liked your tea. Frank caught on, but he had spent every day watching you do it, and even then, you sometimes had to add more milk, or wished he had steeped it further. Joel had spent a few days with you and took the time to learn how you liked your tea, just for the sake of it. And it was perfect.

“Thank you, Joel.”

“You remembered how I like my coffee, so, I figured…” he shrugged.

You began eating again, before asking him how you got to be in his bedroom. He carried you, he said, making your cheeks feel warm.

“You didn’t cop a feel or anything, did you?”

He bellowed. It’s nice to see him like this. Relaxed, happy.

“No, I didn’t, I promise. But I did have to wipe your face and hair with a wet cloth. You had some stuff sticking all over you.”

Ah… the joys of birthing a cow.

“How come you didn’t wipe my face?” Frank’s voice came from behind you. He went to the sink and practically dunked his head under the faucet, rubbing his face hard to get rid of some goop that was there, before wiping his face with a washcloth, turning around and giving Joel a smirk.

Joel shoved the coffee pot in his hands.

You laughed. Frank wiggled his eyebrows at Joel. He threw a washcloth at him.

“I’ll go first, shower, and open the office, Doc. Take your time okay? Joel, you can drive her home, right?”

Joel nodded.

“I’m thinking I should get a car. Easier for us to split up next time? I don’t have to rely on people to go to the store. I haven’t really thought of getting one, I’m only here for a year, but if I could get a small one, second hand, maybe I can give it to Ellie, for when she turns 16?” you said to Frank. It was problematic, you not having a car, relying on people to drive you around, getting to the other ranches, the store, getting tampons…

Joel had a look on his face that you couldn’t really read. Frank too.

“We’ll talk about that later. I can drive you around in the meantime,” Joel told you, turning around to get something from the fridge. Frank watched him, a worried look on his face. He smiled at you and left.

“Sorry it had been so busy for you this past month. Calving season can be overwhelming. We used to have more vets around here, but one retired, one moved to the next town over to open his own practice, the other one got married and moved two towns over. We made do with just Frank and the town vet before you arrived, but he lives on the other side of town, and he was only one man. Pete, our vet, had to go back home for a bit, his mom got diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. It was a miracle we got you on such short notice, really. Not many people would just drop their lives and move to live on a ranch.”

“You’re implying I had a life before I came here. I really didn’t. Except for taking care of Benny, I didn’t really have one. And when he passed, I didn’t have anything to do. Plus, it’s an adventure. It’s good experience. It’s only a year, right? Maybe I will grow to love it and find another ranch to work on after.”

His face shut down again. You finished your meal and got up to clean up. He took your plate from you and shook his head. You tried to protest, but he was a big man, and his entire body covered the sink, your efforts to push him aside in vain. He laughed at your attempts, quickly doing the dishes and wiping the table with practiced ease.

He gave you your tea before you left, but you shook your head no. Keep it, you said. For next time.

It was his turn to blush at the implication.

***************************************

Joel worried. He worried a lot for you. Worried that you were overwhelmed by the calving season, worried that you didn’t get enough rest, worried that you would get sick, worried that you would be leaving in a few months…

He didn’t want you to leave. But who was he to stop you?

You planned your life around this year. Even when talking about getting a car, you planned on giving the car to Ellie when you left. You need a shelf for your books? Oh, you’re only here for a year, you couldn’t carry the shelf with you when you left. So you just stacked them on the floor in the living room. You didn’t have enough clean sweaters to wear with the calving season soiling them more often than usual? Ah, you’ll just wash them more often, you won’t need them after the year is up. You decided to buy more anyway? Well, you could just donate them. Everything had an expiry date.

He would have one too.

He told Sarah about you. He often wondered if Sarah would’ve liked you. And the way his heart warmed every time he mentioned you to her, he felt sure that Sarah would have approved. The others seemed to have clocked his poorly hidden yearning for you. Despite their nosy attitude after the Christmas break, they seemed to have just left it alone, although not so subtly leaving the two of you for some alone time whenever they could.

Then again, that was them. What about you? Did you feel the same? He didn’t have as much time as he’d like with you these couple of months. Calving season kept you busy. He’d lost count on the number of times he’d walked somewhere to find you with your plastic apron and gloves on or ran into you looking exhausted with goop all over your hair, face and neck. He couldn’t stop you from doing your job, that’s why you were here in the first place. Not him.

And even if he had the courage to tell you how he felt, what would happen after the year was up? Would you stay? He couldn’t let himself fall for you and have his heart broken when you leave. He couldn’t risk it. His heart couldn’t take it.

Except, he had fallen for you. Hard.

It’s all a moot point, though. He was your friend. The friend who was an asshole to you when you first met. You may have forgiven him, you said so, so many times, but he couldn’t forgive himself. He made you cry within fifteen minutes of meeting you. He had been nervous. When Tess sent him your picture, he thought you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in his life. He looked forward to meeting you. But seeing Cindy on TV that morning…

He hated how much she could still affect him after all these years. What she did changed him as a person. He blocked his heart from everyone, except Sarah. And when she passed, he kept everyone at arm’s length.

And then you came along. Suddenly what was in the past didn’t control him anymore. It just taught him a lot. You helped him do that, even if you didn’t know it. He didn’t want to go back to the man he was. He was unhappy, miserable.

And he knew that once you left, he would return to be that man.

**********************************

Spring brought with it the foaling season. Given the cow-horse ratio in the area, you were more relaxed, but still kept busy. Although, you didn’t know why it was called spring when there was still snow on the ground, and you were still freezing your arse off.

Spring also brought with it more flannel-wearing Joel. And with that, more staring at the man. Ellie had taken to giving you sly looks every time she noticed you ogling him. Oftentimes, even going so far as drawing your attention to him, accompanied by naughty eyebrow wiggles when you blushed at the sight of him.

Joel had been a lot more civil to her these days. You wouldn’t call them buddies, but he no longer barked at her, even going so far as greeting her at times. You saw what she meant when she said to give him time. He’ll come around.

You just didn’t expect him to come around as much as he did, as quickly as he did.

It was Ellie’s birthday. You had gone over and made her the magic toast for breakfast, although she had steadfastly told Tess and Penny they were not allowed any. But she gave in and made you make them some, as well as Maria, as she was heavily pregnant by then, and couldn’t stand the idea that her new baby cousin might crave a taste. Before you knew it, word had gotten around that you were making this toast for more than just Ellie, and the house was filled with the entire family. Even Anita and Jake made an appearance. Your jar of secret ingredient was left sad and empty by the end, really empty, in fact, as Ellie had licked the jar clean of any residue.

Ellie begged and begged you to teach her how to make that secret ingredient. You just shook your head nope. Mrs Adler gave you her best imploring look to get the ingredients out of you, even going so far as listing the things she could think of. Tess, Penny, Maria, Frank, Anita all tried their best, the silence, the closed eyes, the moans that resulted from their first bites of the toast fresh in their heads. You remained resolute. No.

“But how are we going to eat this once you leave?” Ellie had said.

Her statement left the entire room quiet. Your heart dropped at the thought of it.

You were leaving. You couldn’t stay. This job belonged to someone else. You were just filling in, you had to remember that. But the thought of leaving made you sad. they had all been so nice and welcoming to you. and you really loved it here. The thought of never seeing Ellie and Frank daily made you want to cry.

And the thought of never seeing Joel again…

Penny broke the silence, telling everyone about the picnic they wanted to have at the oak trees that evening. They also wanted to take Ellie riding in the afternoon. She had been getting much better at riding and was going to take more classes at the ranch with Tommy when summer came.

“Oh, Willow’s hoof is still healing, you can’t ride her,” Frank said, remembering. She had a small limp the last time Ellie took her out, and some sharp stones had split part of her hoof.

“Oh, well, then we’ll wait, okay?” Tess had said to Ellie. She didn’t want to risk Ellie riding an unfamiliar horse for the first time on her birthday. Ellie nodded. She understood.

“Why don’t you take Shimmer?”

It was Joel. His suggestion casual, sincere.

If silence was golden, everyone was dripping in gold.

Ellie didn’t speak. No one spoke. Everyone was just focused on Joel. His face earnest. His body relaxed.

Tess had tears in her eyes. You never thought you would see the day.

“You sure about this?” she asked Joel in a low whisper.

He nodded and looked at Ellie.

“It’s time. She likes you; you had taken care of her all this while; Sarah would want you to have her.”

Ellie couldn’t move. No one moved. The first time he had mentioned Sarah to them since she was gone.

“Joel, I…” Ellie finally said, her eyes filled with tears.

“Happy Birthday, kid.”

She lunged at him, hugging his torso. He lifted her into a bear hug, kissing her temple. The room was quiet, save for some sniffles and Ellie whispering thank you over and over again. Everyone had trouble seeing, sights blurred from tears. Even Bill was emotional.

When he finally put her down, he hugged her again, his eyes glistening, but he was smiling. He kissed her once more at the top of her head and took a step back. Tess and Penny hugged him together, the words thank you dripping from their lips.

After everyone settled in, Joel stepped outside, trying to calm himself down. He had had that thought in his head for a couple of weeks. He woke up with it. He had told Sarah about Shimmer’s antics during one of his talks with her the night before. He understood what you meant now, about your loved ones replying to you.

“That was nice, what you did.”

He turned around and looked at you. “Thank you. Sarah suggested it.”

You smiled, understanding what he meant. You were so proud of him.

The picnic that evening was lovely. The weather had warmed up slightly, and everyone gathered and had their fill, laughter and chatter filling the air. Joel stood up, and asked Ellie to join him for a walk. The two made their way slowly along the fencing, heads down as they did so.

“I wanted to say sorry for being such a jerk to you,” he began.

“It’s okay Joel, I understand. I would be a jerk to me, too.”

“No, I was a jerk, and I should apologize. You did nothing wrong. I am the adult, and I chose to take my grief out on you. You lost your mother, and I didn’t show you any sympathy. I only thought about mine. We both lost someone that day, but I made it all about me. You’re just a kid. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

She was quiet for a beat.

“I’m sorry too, Joel. Sarah would still be alive if not for me.”

She kept looking at her shoes, the weight of that thought finally falling out of her mouth directly for him to hear forcing her head down.

He stopped walking, got down on his knees in front of her and took her by the shoulders.

“Hey, look at me.”

She did, hesitantly. Her eyes were brimming with tears. Joel felt horrible. He had encouraged this. This little girl had to live with this thought for two whole years because of how he acted towards her.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? It was her time. She chose to save you. We have to respect that, okay? If anything, I’m proud of her, she lost her life trying to save you. You were important to her. Important enough to risk her life for. You hear me?”

To be honest, he shocked himself when those words came out of his mouth. But he couldn’t argue with himself anymore. He knew it was true. Sarah loved Ellie. Always looking out for her. And she did, until her last breath. He knew she did that out of love, and he should be proud of her, as much as the resulting incident tore his heart apart. But he knew that her final action was a testament to the person she was. Loving, kind, caring, protective, responsible.

Ellie sobbed. Joel held her tight, letting her cry it out. He made her promise that she would stop blaming herself for what happened to Sarah. Promise me, he said. She nodded into his jacket, I promise, she said.

“I’ve got you, kid,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

From the picnic area, the family watched as this unfolded, relieved that after all these years, Joel had found himself again, and repaired what they never thought would ever be.

****************************************

Tess came to find you in the stables, telling you that someone was coming to scout the place for a wedding. You were told early on that it’s kind of a popular thing during the spring and summer. Ranching experiences, horse riding, tours, that sort of thing. So, you should expect people to come in while you were working too. And sometimes, the location was also used for movie shoots. It brought a lot of business to the ranch. Just giving you a head’s up, but it shouldn’t interfere with your work too much. You knew to expect this, of course, but this would be the first time this happened since you had started in early winter.

Later that evening, Maria was waiting for their potential client in front of the office. Tess was dealing with a phone call and would join her later. A large car stopped exactly where she stood, the driver came out and opened the door.

A man stepped out, dressed in oversized, ratty looking, but obviously new and expensive clothing. He shook Maria’s hand, before opening the door wider for someone. He seemed to be a bit unsteady on his feet.

A glamourous looking woman stepped out, looking around, her face covered in a huge pair of sunglasses. She was wobbly, at best. Maria thought for sure she was going to topple over if the man didn’t hold her up, not that he was steady himself.

“This place looks familiar. Was it used in a movie or something?” she asked Maria.

“Yes, several, in fact.”

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” the man asked.

Oh, Maria thought. He spoke like you did.

Tess finally came out of the office, a ready smile on her face. But it quickly snapped shut.

“Cindy?”

The lady took her sunglasses off, looked Tess up and down.

“It’s Cleo, actually, have we met?”  

---

Part 9

[hairstevington]

Do I wanna know?

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Somewhere in the multiverse, there is a world where everyone has a choice - If you had the option of reading a list of everyone who's ever been in love with you, would you do it?

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Modern day AU sort of?? It's not based in realism, just go with it. Best friends to lovers, Robin & Steve & Eddie all live together because I said so, mutual pining, fluff, confession of feelings, lots of denial but they figure it out eventually

A/N: This idea came to me during my stats class, and then it became very difficult to continue focusing on my stats class. (I wrote it as soon as we were dismissed lol). Enjoy this cute little Steddie one shot! Ao3 link here :)

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

“Dude, did you see what they just announced?” Steve asked as he played video games with Eddie.

“Yeah, it’s some wild shit,” Eddie replied. “How is it even possible?”

“I think it’s fake,” Robin called from the kitchen as she made them all pizza rolls. 

“Not fake,” Steve insisted. “I was reading about it on the internet and a bunch of people are saying it’s legit.”

“Well, if you read it on the internet, it must be true,” Robin remarked sarcastically. 

“Whatever,” Steve said. “I’m gonna get mine and find out.”

The deal was that, somehow, everyone had the option of getting a list of statistics about their lives. It was advertised with a variety of categories to look through - some of them could have been retrieved through bank statements and background checks, like the number of countries visited, money spent, etc. Other categories (let’s be real, the most intriguing categories), were far more mysterious.

Number of near-death experiences. Every book you’ve read, with a total word count. And, the most exciting of the bunch - How many people have been in love with you, and who.

“Don’t waste your money or your time,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s bullshit. Probably just another way for the government to squeeze more money out of us.”

“Come on, it’s not some conspiracy, Eds,” Steve replied. “I’m just curious, that's all.”

“Oh, I bet,” Robin chimed in. “Just be honest and admit you want to know about the love thing. You and your ego, Dingus.” Steve smiled. He couldn’t argue with her.

“As if you’re not also dying to read yours,” he countered. 

“I’m pretty sure mine would just hurt my feelings,” Robin said with a sigh. “Robin Buckley - loved by her platonic soulmate Steve Harrington and Creepy Carl from band camp.” Eddie snickered.

“Carl wasn’t that creepy,” he said. 

“You’re only saying that because you were also kind of creepy in high school,” she replied. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Eddie responded with a shrug. “But I think I speak for all former creeps when I say we were just socially stunted and awkward. Most of us grew up to be half-decent people.”

“Way to humble brag,” Steve teased. 

“I’m bragging by saying I’m half-decent?” Eddie replied. Steve laughed and nodded. Meanwhile, Robin quickly scrolled through her phone until she stumbled across what she was looking for with a gasp.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Creepy Carl’s most recent post is about how the patriarchy is a myth.” Steve laughed again and pushed Eddie playfully. Eddie flopped over on the couch and groaned.

“Dammit, Carl, I was rooting for you!” he joked. 

“We were all rooting for you, how dare you!” the three of them shouted in unison. 

That was, of course, a reference to America’s Next Top Model, which Robin showed the boys clips of one night during a rant about the toxicity and absolute batshit nature of early 2000s reality TV. That quote, for whatever reason, stuck. They had a lot of inside jokes like that.

This is how life had been for the three of them the last few years. They’d become best friends straight out of high school, then all moved in together. Life was comfortable and nice. 

-

Steve somehow convinced Robin that they would both get their lists together. Eddie, on the other hand, downright refused.

“I don’t need any of that shit,” he insisted. “It’s not gonna do me any good, and I’m perfectly fine staying in the dark.”

“Okay, I get it,” Steve said, holding his hands up. “You’re scared and lame, that’s totally okay.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, dickhead,” he replied. “This whole thing is stupid anyway. And - and it’s not like we can seriously trust whatever it says. It’s probably just…all lies, anyway.”

“Yeah, but they’re fun lies,” Robin countered. “It’s like hearing gossip about your own life.”

“Exactly!” Steve agreed. “It’s just for fun.”

“Have your fun, then,” Eddie said devilishly. “I’ll be in my room, not being an idiot.”

Robin and Steve put their names and date of birth into a search engine and, within five minutes, each had their respective documents in their inboxes. Steve opened his immediately and eagerly, skipping past all the boring shit until he found the good stuff. 

Number of people who have had crushes on Steve Harrington: 436.

Number of people who have been in love with Steve Harrington: 85.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, looking at the long list of names. He looked up from his phone to see Robin staring at the wall. “Why aren’t you reading?”

“I don’t think I can do it,” she said. “I’m chickening out.” Steve scoffed. 

“What? Robs, come on. You already ordered the damn thing.”

“Yeah, but -” She sighed. “But now it’s, like, real.”

“Do you want me to read yours for you?” he asked. She shook her head. 

“No, I think I’m just going to keep it unread for now,” she decided. Steve shrugged.

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Robin scooted herself over on the couch so she could look at Steve’s phone screen. 

“Wait, they even have crushes on there?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Jeez, Harrington. That’s quite the list.” Steve smirked, realizing it very much did give him an ego boost. He continued scrolling to see even more categories.

Number of people Steve Harrington has had a crush on: 63.

Jesus, Steve thought to himself. That’s kind of embarrassing. In his defense, some of them were celebrities. He continued reading.

Number of people Steve Harrington has been in love with: 3.

Steve didn’t even have to read the list to know who was on it. He quickly clicked his phone off before Robin could see.

“Hey!” she said. “What was that for? It’s not like there are any secrets between us.”

“No, I just - I’ll read it later,” Steve said. 

Robin would usually be right. She was almost completely right. It’s just that Steve had one secret. And it wasn’t even really a secret, it was just something he kept to himself, because it didn’t really matter. 

Nancy Wheeler

Robin Buckley

Eddie Munson

He had barely admitted it to himself, honestly. It’s not like anything would happen. Him and Eddie were best friends, and if something was going to happen between them, it would have already happened. Now, they were too close, and living together. It was different. It didn’t matter. Besides, Robin was on his list, and he wasn’t running off to date her.

Steve put his phone away and didn’t check the list again for a couple days. 

-

“So, how’s the list?” Eddie asked one morning as he made a pot of coffee. “You haven’t said anything about it.” Steve shrugged.

“It’s like a million pages long,” Robin chimed in. Eddie clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“That’s not surprising,” he said. “It’s a shame Harrington isn’t much of a reader. It might take him years to get through.” Steve glared at Eddie, who grinned in response.

“Are you ever going to stop poking fun at me about that?” he wondered. 

“Aaaaabsolutely not,” Eddie replied. “Steve, The Hobbit is 310 pages. 310. Even one page a day you would have been done in a year, and you’re still not done.”

“Okay, listen,” Steve responded defensively. “It’s not my kind of book, alright?”

“He likes the ones with the pictures,” Robin teased. Eddie laughed and high-fived her. 

“Wooow, okay,” Steve replied. “I see how it is. I’m just gonna grab my cereal and go, then.”

“Nooo, don’t leave on our behalf,” Eddie said.

“We’re soorrrryyyyyy,” Robin added. Steve chuckled and shook his head. 

“Whatever,” he resigned. “I haven’t read the damn list. Not all of it, anyway.” Robin’s ears perked up.

“But you’ve read some of it, right?” she asked. “Spill!”

“Just the first ten names or so,” Steve said. He had gotten a glimpse when he skimmed over it the first time. “I think it’s in chronological order.”

“Anyone surprising?” Eddie wondered. Steve shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “Although it did confirm my suspicion that Katie Crystal was into me, after all.”

“I’m thinking maybe I should read mine,” Robin said quietly.

“Yeah, well duh,” Eddie replied. “You paid for it.”

“It’s just - it’s not a big deal, right?” Steve looked at Eddie to survey his reaction. Eddie just shrugged. “It’s like you said, Eds. We don’t even know if it’s accurate.”

Steve didn’t really know if all of it was accurate, but some of it sure as shit was.

“Exactly,” Eddie agreed. “So, Steve, there’s a chance that Katie Crystal actually hated your guts. Who’s to say?”

Steve rolled his eyes. Another few days passed. 

Robin flip-flopped between whether or not she wanted to read her list every few hours or so. Steve and Eddie placed their bets on how long it would take her to crack. 

Meanwhile, Steve counted his lucky stars that Eddie decided not to buy his list. It was clear that they were bros and nothing more, so Eddie finding out would have made everything incredibly weird.

This was for the best.

-

Things carried on as they usually did, until one day Steve was so bored, he decided to revisit the godforsaken document. Plus, he’d been on a few dates that ended in disaster, and reading about the hundreds of people that were into him was bound to put him in good spirits.

He had no idea just how right he was.

The names were all relatively normal. Steve tended to know when girls had a thing for him, especially back in high school. There were some names he didn’t recognize, which meant that there were total strangers crushing on him. He wondered how that was even possible. Like, at that point, they were just basing it on looks and vibes alone. 

Eh. Steve had crushes on people in the past over less. He kept reading.

He made his way down the list until he reached Eddie’s name. He read it again and again to make sure he was seeing it right. 

Eddie had said repeatedly that this thing could be total bullshit, though. Steve had to take it all with a grain of salt. Besides, crushes meant nothing. Hell, Steve was pretty sure Eddie had mentioned once that he thought Steve was hot when they first became friends. 

Steve made his way to the list of people who’d loved him. None of the names mattered except one. 

Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, shit,” Steve muttered. “Oh, shit!” He jumped up out of bed and paced the floor. He had no idea what to do with this information.

It could be bullshit. It could be nothing. 

Or maybe, Eddie had kept saying it was bullshit because he knew what Steve would find. 

“OH MY GOD.”

Robin came bursting into Steve’s room a few moments later. 

“What? What’s going on?” she said. She looked to see his phone on the floor and his hands in his hair. “Oh my god, you read it! What was it? What’s got you all freaked out?”

“I gotta - uhh - I gotta -” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence with Robin in the room. He had to find Eddie - that’s what he had to do. But his head was spinning too much to do so. 

“That’s it. I’m gonna read mine right now,” Robin decided. She swiftly left to go back to her room while Steve continued to pace. 

“Holy shit,” he said to himself. He thought about it for a few minutes, scrawled something on a piece of paper, and then walked down the hall to Eddie’s room.

Eddie opened the door a few inches, still wearing his sweatpants. He hadn’t left his room yet that day, but his guitar was lying on his bed, which meant he’d been practicing. 

“What’s up?” Eddie asked. 

“I finished the list,” Steve replied. Eddie’s jaw clenched just enough for Steve to notice, and then he shrugged. 

“And?” Steve continued to look at Eddie until he broke his composure. He sighed, then opened his door wider. “Come in,” he said. 

Steve had been in Eddie’s bedroom a million times. They’d watched movies in there and stayed up all night talking and smoked together and dear sweet lord I am so dumb for never noticing.

“Is it bullshit?” Steve asked. Eddie started spinning the ring on his middle finger anxiously, refusing to make eye contact.

“Uhh, is what bullshit?” Eddie replied. Steve put his hands on his hips and cocked his head. 

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about,” he said. “I just - is it bullshit? Tell me the truth.”

Eddie stared at him for a few long moments before gently shaking his head. 

“It’s not bullshit.”

Steve’s hands fell back to his sides, and he felt himself get lightheaded. 

“It’s -” he began, struggling to find the words. He cleared his throat. “Wow, I uh -”

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Eddie interjected. “Just so you know. I like what we have. We’re, ya know, we’re friends. Roommates.”

“Do you still -?” Steve started to ask. He noticed Eddie’s eyes flooded with fear, a sight he rarely saw. “I mean, do you still?”

“Steve, I -” Eddie began, his voice tired. “I really, uh. I don’t know what to say.” 

Steve dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he’d ripped from his notebook. He held it out for Eddie to take, and when Eddie didn’t reach for it, Steve stepped closer and stuffed the page right into Eddie’s hand. 

“Read it,” Steve encouraged.

“What is it?”

“It’s your list.” Eddie’s faced scrunched with confusion. “Yeah, I made it myself.” 

“I told you, I don’t wanna know,” he said, trying to give the paper back to Steve.

“Trust me, you do.”

Eddie sighed, then unfolded the paper and read it. 

People who are in love with Eddie Munson:

-Me

-(Steve Harrington)

Steve waited and watched Eddie’s eyes travel up and down the page, similar to the way Steve’s had when he read Eddie’s name on his own list. Finally, Eddie looked up. 

“Really?” he asked, his voice soft. Steve smiled and nodded. 

“Really.”

In that moment, they both knew this changed everything, and yet it changed nothing at all. They’d just skipped a bunch of steps of dating - blown past the getting-to-know-you stage straight into living together and doing all the domestic shit. 

Eddie and Steve each stepped toward the other until their hands met. 

“OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!”

Robin’s voice pierced through their intimate moment and completely obliterated it. The boys glanced at each other in confusion and then ran out to see what Robin was yelling about. 

She was already out the front door by the time they got to the kitchen. If this were a cartoon, she would have left behind a cloud of smoke. 

“What do you think that’s about?” Steve asked. Eddie felt his phone buzz and checked it to find Robin had texted a screenshot to the household group chat. He smirked.

“Vicki’s on her list,” Eddie said. Steve chuckled, happy that everyone managed to find their happy ending. 

“You know what that means?” Steve asked. 

“That you owe me 20 bucks?” Eddie teased.

“Well, that," Steve replied. "But is also means we’re alone in the apartment for a while." Eddie grinned and took Steve by the hand. 

“I like the way you think.”

They ran to Steve’s room together, and if the confession of love hadn’t already changed everything, sleeping together certainly did.

It was the good kind of change, though. The kind that moved mountains and cleared all the clouds from the sky. 

At last, the idiots were together. All it took was years of denial and one payment of $44.49.

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

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[cringevalue]

I keep a fanfiction spreadsheet, I have no shame, and I need to yap about my stats.

I spent approximately 50 hours and 30 minutes reading this month. That being said, I read 28 fics this month, 78 chapters, and 335,958 words.

My top fandom was Stranger Things (obviously), being all 28 fics and my top ship was Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson with 17 fics. My top five reoccurring characters were Eddie Munson in 27 fics, Steve Harrington in 22 fics, Robin Buckley in 12 fics, Jeff in 5 fics, and Nancy Wheeler in 5 fics.

The three tags I read the most were Bisexual Steve Harrington in 10 fics, Gay Eddie Munson in 6 fics, and Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington in 6 fics, and my top rating this month was Explicit with 13 fics.

The most words I read in a day was 63,226 on November 14th and the longest fic I read was Yes, Chef by Sadstateofaffairs at 90,562 words. November 14th was also the day I spent the most time on AO3, according to my screen time, at 8 hours and 27 minutes.

All of this information (aside from time spent reading) and every fic I've read this month can be found on my spreadsheet!

Every Stranger Things fic I read on AO3 this month is linked under the cut (fics i read on tumblr can be found here!)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

i swear we were infinite by SaintMarySunshine

Explicit - 13.6k - Chrissy Cunningham / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hawkins High School (Stranger Things), Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Chrissy Cunningham, Autistic Eddie Munson, Period Typical Attitudes to Autism, internalized ableism, period typical language in regards to autism, unfortunately, Use of the R Slur, THIS IS WRITTEN BY AN AUTISTIC AUTHOR, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, who knew public meltdowns could bring two people together?, ARFID, they're so soft for each other, explicit sexual content in chapter two, your honor they are so in love, fun sexy liberties were taken with diagnostic criteria, shh it was the 80s, See Author's Note For Specifics, Background OC Cheerleaders, Explicit Sexual Content, Cunnilingus, eddie eats pussy and we all know it, eddie "she comes first" munson, Enthusiastic Consent, chrissy stands up for herself, and tells jason the fuck off, the younger kids are adorable and annoying

In which both Eddie and Chrissy are autistic. There's a lot to hate about yourself when the whole world tells you you're broken. Then again, what if you were never broken in the first place? EXERPT: "Chrissy’s not autistic. Mom says she can’t be. Just because she can only eat like three things without vomiting, just because she didn’t talk ‘till she was five, just because too much sensory input makes her scream and flail and smash her head into the wall...she’s not. It doesn't matter. She's not fucking autistic." XXX "Eddie is a r*tard. Uncle Wayne says the technical term is autistic, but it’s all the same, right? He’s a fucking weirdo-- can’t understand even the most basic social skills, can’t be interested in things without being obsessed with them, so bad at school that he’s failed senior year twice. It’s embarrassing. It’s disgusting. Look, he’s got his whole bravado thing going on, got a couple friends, got one or two skill sets, but... he’s a fucking freak. Whatever you wanna call it -- ret*rded, autistic, special-ed-short-bus-freak -- this shit is a curse."

Halloween Stroll In The Park by Cheer_Nymph (@cheer-nympho on tumblr)

Explicit - 8.9k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Murder, Ghostface Eddie Munson, Ghostface Steve Harrington, but not actually they just dress like him, Knifeplay, but no harm to steve or eddie, Puppy Play, Face Slapping, Bondage, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Bottom Steve Harrington, Top Eddie Munson, Blood and Violence, Serial Killers, Partners in Crime, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Stabbing, not tagged as graphic violence cause I don’t go into detail, Dark Eddie Munson, Dark Steve Harrington

There’s a serial killer on the loose and he’s targeting assholes. And Steve plans to use them as a cover to get away with his own murder, perfectly happy for these people to die for the greater good. The only problem with hunting on another, more experienced killers turf is they will always find a way to sneak up on you. ——— Eddie and Steve are both slightly insane, kill a asshole jock together then fuck nasty in a public park.

You're Not Going to Do a Thing by justhere4thevibez (@justhere4thevibez on tumblr)

Teen and Up - 41.3k - Chrissy Cunningham / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - AU where Chrissy lives, Slow Burn, Stranger Things 4, High School, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Eating Disorders, Chronic Illness, AU where the supernatural events of seasons 3 and 4 don't happen, a little light smut, body image issues, Seizures, Child Abuse, Abusive Laura Cunningham, Epilepsy

AU where Chrissy comes to Eddie to buy drugs, but she's hiding more than one secret. Can Eddie help her keep them all?

Safety by Penny00Dreadful (@penny00dreadful on tumblr)

General Audiences - 2.9k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cell Phones, they dont know each other, Robin Buckley & Eddie Munson Friendship, Stalking, Kinda, Protective Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Pansexual Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Lesbian Robin Buckley, Hurt Robin Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, queers of a feather, Podfic Available

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared. That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. OR In a moment of panic, Robin inserts herself into a group of four people with long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos. Subculture, odd, other, alternative. Flag patches and pins. Her people. She just prays they'll just go with it and pretend to know her.

He Was Born To Blow Your Mind (Or Something Along Those Lines) by beetlesandstars (@beetlesandstarss on tumblr)

Teen and Up - 2.6k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Roommates, Coming Out, Confessions, Mutual Pining, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, First Kiss, Making Out, Getting Together, Confident Steve Harrington, Inexperienced Eddie Munson

“Dude, I peed in your sink one time,” Eddie says conversationally, and Steve chokes. Hoarsely, he manages, “What?” Eddie shrugs, lips twitching. “Yeah. Back in 85’, I think. In my defence, I was high as balls. I, uh, I couldn't find the bathroom.” Steve blinks, then blinks again. “Are you saying you broke into my house to… take a leak?” Eddie laughs, the sound rich and deep. “Nah, man. You were throwing a party. I was dealing. I sampled my own goods and got a little fucked.” He clicks his tongue. “A mistake I never made again.” “Oh.” Steve tries to wrap his head around the bizarre image of Eddie standing on the tip of his toes with his dick out, aiming his stream into the sink. “Okay. Okay, I—right.” “Sorry,” Eddie says, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “Did I make it weird?” 

Eddie Universe by Jo_Harrington (@jo-harrington on tumblr)

Teen and Up - 2.8k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Crushes, Unrequited Crush, Secret Crush, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Steven Universe References, Love Confessions, Implied Bisexual Steddie

After Eddie falls off the face of the Earth, Steve goes to do a wellness check, only to find that Eddie has spent the last few days binge watching a kids show.

Chuck by Jo_Harrington (@jo-harrington on tumblr)

Explicit - 3.4k - Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Crack Fic, food fucking, Angst, Funny, Friendship, Masturbation, Boys Will Be Boys, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Song fic, Psychological Torture

It's just a regular closing shift at Benny's. Easy peasy. Nothing bad could possibly happen.

little white panties by pizzabones (@glitterfang on tumblr)

Explicit - 13.1k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Speed Running Two Sexuality Crises, Halloween Costumes, Spin the Bottle, halloween party, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Eddie Munson Wears Panties, as a joke, and then it's really not a joke, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, First Kiss, thigh fucking, Panties, without feminization, Dual POV, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Flirting, Confident Steve Harrington

Steve Harrington likes little white panties. A lot. So much so that Eddie Munson thinks of the perfect prank to play on his good friend Steve after they watch Alien together.

The Worst of The Best by Eddywow (@eddywoww on tumblr)

Explicit - 14.8k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Sugar Daddy, Sugar Baby, Sub Steve Harrington, Dom/sub, Blow Jobs, Sex Work, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Mistaken Identity, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Feminization, but very brief - Freeform, hinted at - Freeform, Daddy Kink, being horny about wealth and money, Materialistic, Age Difference, Under-negotiated Kink

Steve couldn’t see much of his outfit past a very simple button down, black as night. Lots of rings, a few bracelets. A fucking Piaget, shining off his wrist. Calling to Steve.

how I let myself fall face first (time and time again) by bluepenguin63

Teen and Up - 2.5k - Eddie Munson / Reader - No Archive Warnings Apply - Fluff, Fainting, Flirting, Awkward Flirting, Corroded Coffin Concert (Stranger Things)

“You look hot,” he tells you. “Oh!” you yelp, louder than you intend to. Eddie was a brash person and a total flirt, but you weren’t expecting him to be so forward. Maybe this was a date after all? “I wasn’t sure if the fishnets were too much, but I figured I might as well bring them out for a night like this.” “No, I meant--” he startles, eyes wide at what he just told you, “I mean, you do… You’re--” he chuckles nervously, “Sorry. That was an idiotic way of phrasing that. You look… I meant you look like you’re… a little woozy. Are you feeling okay?” Your skin heats up more than you thought was possible. You pass out at a Corroded Coffin concert. Eddie catches you.

You Did What?! by telltaleheartthrob

Mature - 2k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Oblivious Steve Harrington, Getting Together, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Aware of Own Bisexuality Steve Harrington, Confident Bisexual Steve Harrington, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Eddie Munson, Friends to Lovers, Fade to Black

Everyone had settled into their places, popcorn in hand, and the tv was playing some kind of action/romance that Eddie couldn’t remember the name of, when a sex scene came on. No one really said anything, just sitting there in silence while light moans echoed in the room. The metalhead thought to make a joke to alleviate the awkwardness, but as he geared up to say something, Argyle of all people spoke up, gesturing toward the screen. “Reminds me of our twist in the sheets, eh Steve?” he casually spoke, like it wasn’t mind-boggling information.

love begs, love pleads by greyrainbowchild

Explicit - 2.5k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Rape / Non-Con - Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bitching, Alpha Eddie Munson, Alpha Steve Harrington, Omega Steve Harrington, Anal Sex, Knotting, Painful Sex, Manipulation, Mating Bites, Breaking and Entering, Feral Eddie Munson, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Possessive Eddie Munson, Vaginal Sex, Breeding, Mentions of Oral Knotting, Steddie DDDNE Kinktober Event

As if being feral, in tune with his designation, is a bad thing. He doesn’t understand how they can be fine with ignoring what makes them other, makes them interesting. It’s why when he hears some jocks laughing about “Harrington and his bitching joke, never grows old” he’s instantly intrigued. or Eddie hears about Steve Harrington wanting to be a mother, wanting to be bitched, and he can't find it in him not to take what is offered so freely. Even if Steve himself didn't know he was on offer.

Criatura by sweetlikesugar (@mindlesslittlefreak on tumblr)

Teen and Up - 2.5k - Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Al Munson & Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson's Mother & Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Wayne Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - POV Wayne Munson, Kid Fic, Pre-Canon, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Feral Eddie Munson, Animal Death Mild Blood, Family Fluff, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Pre-Relationship, Puppy Love, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Wayne first meets his nephew when he’s two weeks old.

Yes, Chef by Sadstateofaffairs

Explicit - 90.5k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chef Steve Harrington, Chef Eddie Munson, Smut, Porn With Plot, Knife Play, Blindfolds, Food Sex, Sex Toys, Past Child Abuse, Steve Harrington Has Issues, Daddy Issues, to be exact, Enemies to Lovers, Kitchen Sex, Switching, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Childhood Trauma, Everyone's a bit fucky but it's fun promise, Robin is a pastry chef and grows berries in her garden, Modern Era, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst, Out of Character, Father-son abuse, Light BDSM, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Alternate Universe - Chefs, Chefs, Restaurants, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Masochist Steve Harrington, Masturbation, Dirty Thoughts, Paraphilias, Eventual Smut, oh it’s smutty but enjoy sexy build up first, Sexual Tension, Face Slapping, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Power Dynamics, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Come Eating, Eddie Munson's Tattoos, They both think they’re doms to an extent but they’re both losing it :-), Arguing, Power Bottom Steve Harrington, Massage, Power Play, Top Eddie Munson, Cooking, Unreliable Narrator, Betrayal, Misunderstandings, Sadistic Eddie Munson, Light Sadism, Begging, Eventual Happy Ending, Recovery, References to Drugs, Bruises, Falling In Love, Floor Sex, Biker Eddie Munson, Motorcycles

“You’re stubborn and a hothead. You’re impossible to work with and you’re stuck in the past. Nancy said you’d be hard work but this is fucking ridiculous. I’m here to do a job. You won’t let me change or even suggest anything.” “Not true. I did change the turmeric for saffron.” “Yeah and you’re about this close to jumping off a bridge before admitting that it actually does taste better.” Steve could strangle him. Because yes. The saffron does taste better. The saffron tastes so much better and the dish now makes Steve’s tastebuds soar and his eyes water and the only thing worse than admitting Eddie is correct right now, is admitting that that dish is miles fucking better since Eddie puts his hands on it. And Steve finds himself wondering for a split fucking moment in between the rage he’s feeling, if everything is better with Eddie’s hands on it. or Son of famous, michelin-star chef, Steve Harrington is trying to gain a star of his own after a stint in rehab that left him with a lack of inspiration, until his restaurant manager Nancy has an idea of her own to add a spark back into the kitchen.

The Peruvian Lily Chapter by voidpacifist (@voidpacifist on tumblr)

Teen and Up - 1.9k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Original Character(s) - No Archive Warnings Apply - POV Outsider, Disabled Steve Harrington, Post-Canon, takes place in 2001, Cerebral Palsy

Tess has never seen anyone like her on TV before, until she sees a film starring Steve Buckley. Or, the year is 2001, Steve and Eddie are (privately) married, and representation in film is important.

call my bluff when I roll the dice by gayjinkies (@gayjinkies on tumblr)

Explicit - 14.6k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon, Eddie Munson is a Mess, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Light Angst, Smut, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Requited Unrequited Love, Miscommunication, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Dry Humping, Dom Steve Harrington, Sub Eddie Munson, Mean Dom Steve Harrington, but just kind of, we’re all having fun here, Dacryphilia, Hand & Finger Kink, Eddie Munson Has an Oral Fixation, Happy Ending, accidental verbal humiliation

Eddie holds the ruler up, inches away from his face, just to make sure. He’s gotta make sure, because—because it’s been marked at— “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he breathes, staring unblinking at it. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Ten inches. The black notch in the ruler has been marked at exactly ten inches. Eddie swallows thickly, mouth suddenly too dry. “Big fucking boy, indeed.” — Or: Eddie finds Steve’s dick-measuring ruler while snooping in his bedroom. He’s super chill and normal about it.

Bloodlust by digitaalbe

Explicit - 4k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Graphic Depictions Of Violence - Stranger Things 4, Hawkins (Stranger Things), Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Blood and Gore, Violence, Murder, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Halloween, Hurt Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Blood, Torture, Spooky Month Headcanons, Bloodlust, Anger, Tied-up Steve Harrington, Sociopath, Intestines, Weapons, Slasher

Eddie Munson wants to know what Steve Harrington's intestines feel like in his hands. ‘Cause he’s fucked in the head. Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington. That’s the problem.

silent all these years by cairparavels (@eddielore on tumblr)

Not Rated - 11.1k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - Secret Admirer, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Sexuality Crisis, Internalized Homophobia, Character Study, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, POV Steve Harrington, freshman year to present, canon compliant except eddie lives and vecna dies, Underage Smoking, Swim Team, Strangers to Lovers, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, SO SWEET HES JUST TOO GOOD, One Shot, Insecure Steve Harrington, eddie munson slays every day of his life, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, hints at billy being gay but not explored

steve gives eddie a love note. it's a joke at first. (steve searches for the meaning of life and finds it in his own queerness: a journey through the years.)

Two Parts Mischief, One Part Adoration by AlmightyPastaLord

Teen and Up - 7.7k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Kind Of, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Hurt Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is Whipped, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, they're both disasters your honor

Steve Harrington will be the death of Eddie Munson. It will be written on his tombstone, “Here lies Eddie Munson, died at the ripe ol' age of 21 because of his beautiful, wonderful, amazing boyfriend of only a few months gave him a heart attack that put him in the hole this tombstone marks.” Maybe he was being dramatic. Maybe he was blowing this whole thing straight out of the water. Maybe— "Steve Harrington!" Eddie yelled. "Are you on a fucking ladder?!" There was a pause, no sound traverses the expanse of the Harrington property. Then, softly, practically a whisper, "no."

Am I Full (Am I Empty) by reysrose

General Audiences - 1.8k - Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler - No Archive Warnings Apply - Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Vomiting, Sickfic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler are Best Friends, Alcohol, Halloween, Touch Starved Nancy Wheeler, Minor self injurious behaviors, POV Wayne Munson, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Southern Wayne Munson

The first time Wayne Munson meets Nancy Wheeler, she's a drunk, blanket wrapped lump on the floor of his trailer bathroom and her soul is entwined with his boy's.

The axe forgets but the tree remembers by sweetlikesugar (@mindlesslittlefreak on tumblr)

Explicit - 6.7k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Rape / Non-Con - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Anal Sex, Painful Sex, Wetting, Outdoor Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Slurs, Homophobic Language, Forced Feminization, Revenge Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Creepy Eddie Munson, Pre-Canon, Sexual Repression, Mind Games, spitting

What are you sorry for, Harrington, give me specifics,” Munson gestures with his cigarette impatiently. “A lot has happened during King Steve’s reign, I want to know what exactly you’re apologizing for. Unless you don’t remember,” he grins, and the back of Steve’s neck goes hot. “I remember,” he says and immediately can tell Eddie knows he’s lying. “Well,” he grins, a glint of silver in his mouth sparkling maliciously. “Go on then”.

Babydoll by sweetlikesugar (@mindlesslittlefreak on tumblr)

Explicit - 6.8k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Objectification, Dollification, Dom/sub Undertones, Crossdressing, Grooming, Foot Fetish, Rimming, Intercrural Sex, Wet & Messy, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Shaving, Bathing/Washing, Quiet Sex, Mirror Sex, Manhandling, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Dress Up

It’s beautiful, his doll, carved from the finest porcelain, sculpted to perfection. While Steve does his best to style his doll in all the finery it deserves, it truly wouldn’t matter if it was sitting in the nude, or wrapped in cheap fabric, the doll itself is masterfully crafted for Steve to dress and undress and style to his liking, a picture perfect innocence in the wide glassy eyes and petal pink mouth.

Sparagmos by sweetlikesugar (@mindlesslittlefreak on tumblr)

Explicit - 6.2k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cult Leader Eddie Munson, Hellfire is a Cult, Human Sacrifice, Ritual Sex, Necrophilia, Eye Trauma, Eye Gouging, Kissing, Cannibalism, Blood and Gore, Blood As Lube, Anal Fingering, Creepy Eddie Munson, Obsession, Blood Drinking, Orgy, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Foot Fetish, Decapitation

a Dionysian cult ritual which involved taking a live fawn or panther cub and ripping it apart before consuming it raw - "Who’s got the prettiest doe eyes in all the land?” Eddie grins. “Who?” Frankie indulges Eddie’s dramatic pause. “Steve Harrington, of course”.

I Burn Forsooth by AstridMyrna

Teen and Up - 19.5k - Chrissy Cunningham / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Sickfic, Sick Character, Fever, Fainting, Hurt/Comfort, Head On Lap, Eddie says fuck a lot when he’s nervous, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, princess carry, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles

Eddie wakes up and realizes he's fainted straight into the arms of one Chrissy Cunningham.

Chloroform boy by sweetlikesugar (@mindlesslittlefreak on tumblr)

Explicit - 3.4k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, Bondage, Mind Break, Captivity, Bathing/Washing, Watersports, Anal Fingering, Creampie, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Come Eating, Creepy Eddie Munson, Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Eddie Munson Lives

The emaciated face of Steve Harrington squints up at him in the sudden burst of light coming from the upstairs apartment. “Hi, sweetheart”.

Blueberry Muffin by Jo_Harrington (@jo-harrington on tumblr)

Mature - 2.2k - Eddie Munson / Reader - No Archive Warnings Apply - Established Relationship, Food, Eating, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Discussion of previous relationship

Eddie notices you're good at sharing your food. A little too good.

Skate from the Heart by spookyscaryaliens

Teen and Up - 26.1k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe- Figure Skating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Slow Burn, Period-Typical Homophobia, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Supportive Wayne Munson, Hypothermia, Panic Attacks, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Drowning, Hurt Eddie Munson, Hurt Steve Harrington, Internalized Homophobia, Blood and Injury, Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Billy Hargrove is Not Okay, Not Billy Hargrove Friendly, he is coping with trauma in the wrong way sorry y’all

Eddie Munson, 20 years old, and the only male figure skater in all of Hawkins. He was an anomaly and he loved it. Steve Harrington is a hockey player with dreams of being in the AHL. Too bad someone was practicing on his pond.

You're the Pretender by tuttifruitti

Teen and Up - 15.7k - Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson - No Archive Warnings Apply - Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Getting Together, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Pining, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Gay Disaster Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, POV Alternating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Period-Typical Homophobia, Coming Out, Background Relationships, Thanksgiving, Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, and i mean really minor, Not Beta Read

When Steve enlisted Eddie to be his fake date for thanksgiving dinner with his parents, he had only one goal. That was, to officially come out to his family as Bisexual and maybe mess with his dad a little bit. If he just so happened to fall in love in the process, then that was just a bonus. A fic inspired by this iconic craigslist post.