#I think one time where I was fighting off the goddamned voices in my head is when I also expierenced a seizure!

[folkwhoredoll]

mutual frustrations - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: keeping your temper and hormones in control is neither yours nor your boyfriend's strength

word count: 1.6k

warnings/tags: smut! (f masturbation, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism), slight dom!bf rafe

a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"What the hell is your problem, huh?"

Rafe had been frustrated all day. His dad had been yelling at him since early morning, Barry wouldn't stop calling him, and a brief fight with his sister for running off with her Pogue friends had pushed him to the edge. It didn't help that you had been snappy all day, either. It started with your short and sarcastic replies to his questions, and he grew tired of seeing your eyes roll and your deep sighs.

Truth be told, you weren't doing it on purpose. You were just craving his attention, and your frustration over his frequent disappearances to whatever business he had to attend to was carelessly reflected through your actions.

"Seriously! Where did this attitude come from?" he said, raising his voice slightly but not yelling.

"Well, I wouldn't have a problem if you just noticed me, Rafe!" You grumbled.

"Are you fucking joking? I have literally been talking to you, but you were the one who refused to answer me properly!" Rafe seethed.

"Oh, please. The first time that you acknowledged my presence was an hour ago. I have been here since morning!" You defended yourself, remembering how you initially went over to his place to bond with each other, but he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he walked past you several times without realizing it.

Rafe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "You know what? Whatever. I've had a long day and don't need any of this right now."

Your face was starting to feel hot as you felt your anger grow. Suddenly, his huge bedroom felt small as your chest tightened. "That's it? You're going to push me away again? What the fuck am I to you, Rafe? Do I even mean anything to you?"

"You're pulling this shit right now?" He growled, brows furrowing as he looked at you with darkened eyes. "If you mean nothing to me, I wouldn't even look at you."

Rafe started to walk closer to you slowly, cornering you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. His face lowered to your level, with a threatening look on his face.

"But guess what, princess? Here I am, still tolerating your goddamn bratty attitude." He said lowly.

You could feel his radiating anger, making you gulp as you think of whether or not you should still say something as words die at the back of your throat. Despite your own displeasure, your boyfriend's dangerous face made you gulp. And unsurprisingly, you liked it. You liked it so much that Rafe did not miss your subtle attempt to push your thighs together.

He chuckled darkly. "So that's your problem then, hm? You're fucking horny."

You felt your breath hitch, mouth open, as you quickly thought of an excuse. As expected, you came up with nothing, leading Rafe to shake his head in amusement.

"You could've just told me, baby. I'd drop anything to make you feel good." Upon hearing his words, your eyes lit up hopefully. You started to feel excited until Rafe walked beside you to sit on the bed, harshly pulling you towards him so you were entirely situated on his lap. "But you decided to act like a fucking brat instead, and I can't have that, can I?"

Your boyfriend hastily grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face towards his to kiss you roughly before you could react. Rafe kissed you with passion, forcefully separating your lips with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, hips starting to grind against clothed crotch.

Unbeknownst to you, he was already plotting what he could do to punish you. And you only realized that after you felt his lips travel to your neck.

"More, Rafe. Please fuck me." You gasped upon feeling him slightly bite your skin.

"No." He replied bluntly, pulling away to meet your gaze with a smirk. "You really think I'm gonna fuck you after what you did?"

"W-what?" You asked, visibly confused.

"Oh, baby. You should've seen your punishment coming." He taunted, shifting your positions so that he was standing again and you were lying on the bed. "You won't be getting my dick tonight. If you wanna come, do it yourself."

Your mouth was open in shock as you processed his words, frustration building up again. "Are you kidding me? Fuck me."

"You're in no position to order me, darling. Make yourself come right now, or I'll extend your punishment for a week. We both know you can't go that long without my dick."

If you weren't horny, you would have slapped Rafe's smirk off of his face. But you were desperate; your hormones heightened after making out with him. You groaned, tilting your head back, figuring that making yourself cum without his cock is much better than not being able to cum at all.

"Go on, baby. Take off your clothes; I wanna watch."

Grunting, you briefly sat up to remove your clothes individually as Rafe stepped back to watch you. You kept eye contact with him as you took off your bra and underwear, smirking when you saw his eyes hungrily scan your hardening nipples down to your inner thighs.

 "You can touch me, Rafey." You attempted to persuade him with a sweet smile, but he knew better.

"Nice try, sweetheart. But you should know by now that that won't work for me. Now lay back and spread those legs."

You followed his instruction, positioning yourself so that you're laterally positioned on his bed. Rafe moved to his small couch across the room, observing your movements like a hawk.

"Like this?" You teased him, lifting your leg and spreading your thighs apart, giving him a perfect view of your plump breasts and wet slit.

Rafe could feel his cock growing harder and harder with each second. He wanted nothing more than to ruin you at that moment, your pussy tempting him to cum inside. But he prevented himself, knowing he had to let you know who was in control.

"Mhm. Now play with your tits. Don't stop until your nipples are hard." He said, watching as you slowly moved your hands up to massage your breasts. You moaned with each stroke, your thumb toying specifically with your nipples until they perk. "Good job, baby. Now remove one hand and touch your pussy. Don't insert a finger yet."

You followed again, one hand trailing down to your stomach until your fingertips touched your outer walls. You gasped loudly, turned on from your own wetness. "Rafey."

Rafe savored your moans, eyes not leaving your womanhood. "Spread your walls for me. I want to see that pretty cunt."

You obeyed, letting out a deep breath as you used two fingers to separate your walls, giving Rafe a fantastic view of your delicious cunt. "Want to come, Rafe? Please."

"You will. Just be patient, alright?" He cooed. "Insert one of your fingers."

You slowly push one finger into your pussy, having no difficulty in doing so because you're too soaked.

"Add another one. Go on, sweetheart. You know your spot." Rafe urged you, proud that you were doing so well for him. "Curl your fingers in. That's it."

"Fuck!" You screamed in sudden pleasure, letting Rafe know that you were able to find your G-spot. "Wish this were your fingers."

"I know, baby. I do, too, but you need to learn your lesson. Now make yourself come."

You whined upon hearing his words, pumping your fingers faster while continuing to massage your breasts. You were becoming desperate for a release, and Rafe's hungry smirk gave you enough motivation. If you couldn't have his dick, you would at least give him a proper show.

You were a moaning mess in front of him, and he loved every moment of it. Your continuous mumbles of his name increased his ego, knowing that you would never be able to satisfy yourself like he does.

The sound of your wetness as you fingered yourself was like music to his ears. And before he could think about what he was doing, he found himself in front of you, absentmindedly reaching forward to place his thumb on your clit.

"Oh!" You screamed upon contact, your hips slightly rising. Rafe couldn't avert his eyes from your pussy. He groaned at the sight of both of your fingers playing with your cunt, your walls visibly pulsating as you chased your own release.

"That's it. Be a good girl and come on my fingers."

"Yes, yes, yes." The exact words left your mouth as you felt your mind go blank, overwhelmed with nothing but pleasure. You continued to fuck yourself as Rafe toyed with your clit faster. "Fuck, Rafe. I'm going to cum."

"Go ahead, pretty girl. Give it to me." Rafe's cock was aching so much, and he felt like he was about to lose control. And he knew he did, when his mouth let out his most wanted thought. "Come for me. Come for me, and I'll give you my dick."

Hearing those words made something snap in you, making you release in an instant. You squirted around your fingers as he remained touching your clit, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that was taking over your body.

Rafe grunted at the scene. "Good job." He softly grabbed your fingers away from your pussy before wiping the sweat off of your forehead. "You did good, baby."

You were still catching your breath when you felt him kiss your forehead softly.

"Now I believe I owe you my cock?"

[kitten4sannie]

HOT TO GO!

pairing: boyfriend! hongjoong x fem! reader

genre: smut

summary: poor hongjoong always ends up fighting demons when he’s up too late in the studio. he has no choice but to facetime you in hopes that you’ll help solve his dilemma.

w.c: 1.5k

warnings: soft dom but slightly subby! hongjoong, sub with some dom tendencies! reader, phone/facetime sex, teasing, pet names, dirty talk, some instruction giving, tit play/sucking requested by joong (they match each other’s freak okay), mutual masturbation, brief breeding kink

a/n: oh captain my captain~~ oomfs let me know about this wonderful prompt and i simply couldn’t say no 😵‍💫💕 there’s something about a nasty facetime call between two people that are extremely desperate for each other that drives me insaneeeee GOD. enjoy lovelies <3

song rec: cyber sex by doja cat

“Come on, let this be the one,” Hongjoong sighed to himself, listening intently to the track he was in the process of crafting. After hours and hours spent hunched over his monitor, something still wasn’t right. “Fuck, man…”

He rubbed the pads of his thumbs into the bridge of his nose once he removed his reading glasses, pinching it slightly. He glanced at the bottom of the monitor with his bloodshot eyes, noting that the clock had just struck 12, before looking down at his phone screen, tapping it gently, a breathtaking photo of you popping up and almost making him forget where he even was. He couldn’t believe he had to be away from you for so long, stuck inside his studio instead of being being stuck between your trembling thighs, wishing he could listen to the lovely sounds you produced for him rather than the artificial ones he made with his keyboard.

The longer he thought about what you were possibly doing in bed without him, the more he began to squirm in his plush computer chair, grabbing at the crotch of his baggy sweatpants. Maybe if he could just release some tension, he’d finally figure out how to finish the song. And maybe, just maybe, his baby wouldn’t be opposed to helping him out a bit. 

Hongjoong propped his phone up against his monitor and hit the call icon next to your name, biting into his chapped bottom lip, feeling more and more like a pervert the longer he listened to the dial tone drone on, figuring you were probably just trying to get a good night’s rest. And, here he was, trying to get his nut off. “Goddamn it,” he mumbled to himself, resting his head in his hand just as his phone made a familiar chirping sound. It was then that your sleepy voice rang out through the phone speaker.

“Hey, how’s my baby doing?” You smiled at the sight of your slightly disheveled boyfriend on your bright phone screen, kicking off your warm covers. “Are you making sick beats?” 

“The sickest,” Hongjoong replied softly, his lips curling up into a feline-like smile, his tired eyes sparkling at the sight of you. “I’m good now that I’m seeing your pretty face. I missed you today.” 

“I missed you too, Joongie.” You rolled onto your side in your regretfully empty bed, resting your phone against the edge of your pillow, one of your loose tank top straps sliding down your shoulder. “Still in the studio, huh?” You pouted at your boyfriend, batting your eyelashes. “Why aren’t you at home yet? In bed with me?” 

Hongjoong gulped, unconsciously wetting his lips with his tongue, trying not to fixate on the way your tits were squished together, your tank top barely concealing what was hidden underneath. “I wish I was in bed with you right now…so bad…I, actually, couldn’t stop thinking about you before I called. I couldn’t concentrate on my music.” 

You giggled softly, knowing him well enough to know why he was having a hard time keeping eye contact with you, pressing your tits together just a little more, watching your boyfriend’s mouth open slightly. “Oh, so it’s my fault you couldn’t concentrate, huh? Should I take responsibility, Joongie?” 

Hongjoong squeezed his ringed fingers into one of his thighs, biting back the groan he wanted to let out. His baby was always such a tease. It pained him that he couldn’t be there with you physically to tease you back in the way he wanted, knowing he would have you flushed, soaked, and begging for him to be inside you. For now, he would have to make the most of this late night facetime call. 

“You should, babygirl. You’re always so naughty for me when I’m home, always making me think dirty things when I’m in the studio. Just look at what you’ve done to me,” Hongjoong answered huskily, slowly leaning back against his computer chair, allowing you to see the way his stiff cock was pressing into the thin material of his joggers. He squeezed around the base of it, jerking himself off in an agonizingly slow manner, knowing it would drive you insane. “Mm, make it up to Joongie, yeah? Take your tits out.” 

As you obediently tugged your top down and allowed your tits to spill out, much to Hongjoong’s satisfaction, he tugged his leaking cock free from its confines, causing you to begin to drool almost as if on command, having to swallow it all down to keep it from spilling out, wishing your boyfriend was on the bed next to you so that his heavy cock could plug up your throat. For now, you would have to settle for watching him touch himself on your phone screen. “Now what, Joongie?” you asked, bringing your free hand up to your tits to grope and squeeze at them. 

“S-suck on them…” he requested perversely, a bead of sweat dripping along his temple. 

Propping your phone against one of your plushies, you brought both of your hands to the undersides of your tits, slowly bringing them up near your mouth. “Joongie’s a little pervert, huh? Wanting to watch his baby suck on her own tits like this….” 

“I-i am…wanna see you be naughty for me…” Hongjoong blushed heavily, pulling at the strings of his hoodie in an act to conceal himself, his dilated eyes still focused solely on you, his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock, feeling it throb persistently. 

Humming, you brought one of them to your mouth, idly licking around and over your nipple until it hardened against your tongue, sucking it into your warm mouth and moaning, before giving your other tit the same treatment, occasionally looking up at your boyfriend with hazy, half-closed eyes, wishing your wetness was leaking out around his moving cock, instead of soaking into your panties. “Baby…stop for a second…” you whispered, squeezing your thighs together. 

“Yes, princess,” Hongjoong obeyed breathily, taking his hand off of his length and instead grabbing at his thigh, his stiff cock twitching upwards like it had a mind of its own, sticky pre-cum pooling from his tip and dripping down the side. It looked like he was going to bust at any given second. 

Licking your lips at Hongjoong’s pitiful state, you sat up on the bed and faced your phone, opening your slick covered thighs, pulling your panties to the side and spreading yourself open to show your boyfriend the way your pretty pink hole fluttered around nothing.  “Can you please fuck me? I’m so empty, I wanna cry…” 

“Oh my godddd, baby,” Hongjoong groaned, watching closely as you rubbed your fingers over your cunt, able to hear just how incredibly wet you were for him, eventually tugging his hood off of his head and running his fingers through his hair, gripping it for a second to keep himself from tweaking. “I wish I could fuck you dumb right now…You have no idea how bad I wanna fill you up…” 

“Guess I’ll have to get the job done myself until you get home, huh?” you sighed playfully, just as you easily slipped two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckles, adding a third because you could, before fucking them in and out of you, the obscenely wet sounds your cunt made each time sending Hongjoong into a deeper state of need. “J-joongie, please cum inside me…I need it…”

Letting out a whimper, Hongjoong resumed his desperate act of self pleasure, quickly collecting his abundant pre-cum to slick up his twitching cock each time his closed fist moved near the shiny, red tip. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna cum so hard for you…” 

Keeping your eyes locked on your boyfriend’s half-lidded ones, you quickened your pace, your fingers beginning to cramp, curling them up just enough to pound them into your g-spot, causing your gasps to turn into whiny moans, a few tears starting to spill from your eyes, similar to the arousal that was spilling out of your pulsing cunt. “I’m cumming, Joongie, fuck– Fill me up, please, please, please…!” 

Hongjoong threw himself back into his chair, emitting a few soundless moans, before he began to let out one long groan, desperately bucking up into his closed fist, until a stream of milky, white liquid shot out.  “Fuck, I’m gonna knock you up, princess….There’s so much…” he sighed out, tossing his head back, milking his aching cock with a shaky hand, a few beads of cum spilling out onto his skin. 

The both of you grew quiet as you came down from your highs, simply panting and trying to catch your breath, still gazing at one another through your phone screens. 

You picked up your phone and brought it closer to your face, batting your lashes at him once again, whispering, “You better finish up that song and get your ass home, Joong. As much as I love watching you make a mess of yourself, that wasn’t nearly enough for me.” 

After practically melting into his chair, Hongjoong sat up and nodded his head obediently, biting his lip at the implication that the both of you would be going at it all night. He pushed some of his sweaty hair back just to let it fall into his now narrowing eyes, making sure you were looking at him when he guaranteed, “I’ll be sure to ruin you later, princess. Wait up for me, yeah?”   

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling

(Part 2)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader

Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.

Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.

Part one ⬇️:

A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3

———————

Bold is reader’s thoughts.

Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.

The size of the tattoo is in inches.

———————

Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?

Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.

The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.

The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.

“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.

“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.

“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.

“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.

Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.

Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.

“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.

“Why’s that?”

Fuucckkkk.

“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.

“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.

Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.

“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.

Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.

“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.

Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.

To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.

“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”

“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.

“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.

“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.

“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.

“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“

“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.

“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.

“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.

“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”

You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.

He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.

“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.

“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.

“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”

“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.

“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.

“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.

“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.

“I’m good I swear, now go!”

“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.

Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.

James:

Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?

Send me the address to the shop

Now… please

Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.

You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.

James:

See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.

Little shit.

————

You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.

Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.

Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.

Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.

“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.

“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.

Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.

“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”

“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.

“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.

“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”

His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.

“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.

“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.

“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.

“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”

“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.

“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.

“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.

“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.

“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”

“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.

Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.

“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.

“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”

Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.

Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.

The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.

If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.

He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.

You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.

He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.

“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.

“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”

Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.

“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.

“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

Christ alive.

“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.

“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.

“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.

“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”

Like I could regret you.

You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.

“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.

You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.

“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.

“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.

I like him. He says okie dokie.

“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.

You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.

“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.

“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”

“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.

“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.

“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.

“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.

————

You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.

“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.

“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.

“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.

God he’s pretty.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.

“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.

“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.

“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.

“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”

“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.

————

The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.

“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”

“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.

He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.

You sat in silence as he started to speak.

“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.

The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”

Silence.

“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”

A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-

“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.

“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.

This should not be turning me on, shit.

“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”

His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?

“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”

Oh Clint sounds fun.

“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”

He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.

“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.

“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.

“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.

“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.

“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.

“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.

Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.

Ok right back to it. Got it boss.

“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.

“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.

Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.

“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.

He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”

“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.

“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.

“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”

“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.

“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.

“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.

Shit.

“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.

“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.

“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.

He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.

“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.

“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.

That’s a new one.

“Uh, say $180?” You respond.

“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.

He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”

You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.

They were hundreds.

“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.

“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.

You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”

“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.

“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”

“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.

“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.

“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”

There it is.

“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.

“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.

“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.

“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.

Fuck me running.

“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.

He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.

“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.

“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.

You say nothing.

He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.

“Would you?” He asks softly.

“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.

“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.

“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.

He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.

Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.

His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.

“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.

“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.

He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.

Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.

————

A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘

I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.

Tags:

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @scrynexxtins @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @cashhvi @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @fand0mskullfa1ry @1-800-bxrnes @amiets2 @aliabhatt19 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianstanswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

[dinogoofymutated]

Hello, I love your writing!! And the Kurt taking care of an overworked lover really melted my heart 🫠💕 could I ask for a similar prompt with Logan? He's my #1 X Men man. If this ptompt is too specific no worries, feel free to make it work within your own parameters- but I live with chronic pain/illness, so maybe it could be someone with a condition that flairing up and they refuse to rest/ask for help, making things worse, and Logan finally steps in, maybe scoops them up in his big arms and lovingly forces them to take a break? Logan has such a big protective heart under all his gruffness, and I think we need to see more of it in the Fandom.

💖 Love and Bless You 💖

Wolverine/GN!Reader UGH I love this request!! I hope it's okay that i didn't write about a specific illness, but describe a general chronic pain/mobility difficulty due to it. I need to write soft logan like this more often UGH- also, I was picturing the flirty Logan from Wolverine and the X-men here. He's infected my brain and I need more versions of him like that lol. TWS: Chronic pain/illness. flareups.

If there's one thing anyone knows about Logan, it's that's he's crazy observant, especially with that sniffer of his.

Sure me might not be able to smell when you're in pain, but I 100% thing that he just -knows- when something is off. It's like a sixth sense. Like you move in a particular way or eat your "fuck I hurt" food and he's on you like a goddamn bloodhound.

It doesn't matter how much you protest, or how much you fight him on it, he's not willing to budge when it comes to letting you rest- and if he can sneak in a few extra cuddles, or more time in bed with you, it's just a perk.

    Today has been a rough day since you woke up, and you knew it would most likely get worse. 

    You were having a bit of a flare-up. Well, you say a bit, in all actuality, it was an uphill battle from here. There was just something off the moment you woke up. Your joints were stiff and painful, everyday actions became a chore, and you were hurting much more than normal. But, if there was one thing about you everyone knew, it was that you were certainly stubborn. 

    You’re in the kitchen currently, resting at the table after popping a batch of cookies in the oven. Jubilee had been begging you to make her some sweet treats, and with her coming home from a rather long mission tomorrow, you decided to surprise her. Your body’s timing was… unfortunate, but there was no stopping you now. You were exhausted after making the dough, and rolling it into balls. After you had popped them in the oven you had painstakingly walked to the fridge to put the rest of the dough inside, muscles protesting each and every step. You had collapsed into the nearest chair, leaning your head back with a sigh, which is where you are now. You let your eyes drift closed as you wait for the timer to go off, relaxing into the seat.

    “Hey~” You jump at the sound of the voice, opening your eyes to see a smirking Logan, his arms draped across the back of your chair. You let out a huff, smiling at him. 

    “Hi Logan.” You say sweetly. One of his hands reaches down to run through your hair, and you feel like a cat as you eagerly lean into the touch.

    “How are you feeling?” He asks. You hum, grimacing at the question.

    “Fine?” You respond, an unsure tilt in your voice. Logan raises an eyebrow at you.

    “Don't bullshit me, sweetheart. I know somethings off.” Logan rumbles. You make a face, sitting up from the chair as normally as you can as the timer for the cookies goes off.

    “It's just a minor flare-up. It's fine, I'm fine. I have to finish baking these cookies for tomorrow anyway, so I don't really have a choice.” You say. If he sees the way you stumble a little, he doesn’t comment on it. Logan watches as you take a moment before you open the oven, resting against the counter. You realize that you may have gotten up from the chair just a little too fast as stars spot your eyes. After a minute of rest, hyper-aware of Logan’s eyes on you, you go for it. You barely crack the oven door open before Logan grabs you by the waist.

    “Alright, that's enough.” He says. You yelp as Logan drags you away from the oven. He takes the cookies out quickly before he turns around and immediately throws you over his shoulder. Your yelp is more of a screech this time.

    “Logan! Let me go- what are you doing?!” 

    “I'm not gonna stand back and watch you do this to yourself. I'm taking you to bed.” Logan huffs. He’s already walking you out of the kitchen and into the other parts of the mansion as you hit your palms against his back, trying to convince him to put you down.

    “But- I- the cookies!” You cry out. Logan has already gotten to your door opening it as he carries you inside.

    “I got it. Now just- relax.” He says, plopping you down on the bed. The action has you a little dizzy, and Logan leans in to kiss you on the forehead before he tucks you under the covers. 

    “I'm going to go get you some water and vitamins. Stay. Here.” You don’t have time to protest before he’s gone, having shut the door behind him. You want to get up and chase after him, tell him that you don’t need any special treatment and that you were fine on your own, but you’re not sure you can really run right now- and the comfort and warmth of your bed and covers are calling you like a goddamn siren song. 

    You drift in and out of consciousness in bed until Logan is back, with a glass of water and vitamins as promised. He hands you a flintstone gummy as he sits on the bed, and you can’t help but snicker. Logan rolls his eyes, still having delivered vitamins as promised.

    “What did you do about the cookies?” You ask as Logan peels back the covers to lie in the bed with you. He pulls you close as he settles in, rubbing his hands soothingly across the parts of you he knows tend to ache the most. 

    “I put a new batch in the oven. I’ll smell them when they’re ready.” He says. You roll your eyes at him, resting your head against his chest. 

    “Thank you, you know. Not just for the cookies, but… for caring.” You whisper. He huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you on the lips this time.

    “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Just rest.”

[rememberwren]

Ghoap x Reader. Let's talk aftercare.

I said, how would aftercare work if the scene ends before it begins?

CW: Simon's history of non-con, safewording, not much aftercare for aftercare being my primary focus tbh, established ghoap, fem!reader.

-

Ghost safewords and disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Johnny hasn’t even kneeled up onto the bed yet. You’re still wearing your robe. The scene which the three of you had planned with near religious fanaticism for the last two weeks had barely even begun, and now it has already ended. 

You and Johnny stare at each other with twin expressions of confusion. Johnny, quick and long used to Ghost’s unpredictability, rushes the door. He knocks and then braces his hands against the doorframe, head down. 

“Simon? Can I come in?” he calls through the oak. 

“It’s unlocked,” Ghost says back, scathing. The water faucet has been turned on, muffling his voice a little but not his tone. He’s furious. You can take a guess as to at whom. 

It isn’t his fault, though, you think. You sit on the edge of the bed, toying anxiously with the hem of your robe, any and all arousal having sublimated into thin air with Ghost’s safeword. It’s hard to believe that only a few minutes ago, the three of you had been setting up with excitement, eager to play—or had you? Had there been signs that Simon wasn’t in the right headspace? Should you have been looking more closely? You draw your knees up toward your chest, wrapping your arms around them, feeling hollow. 

“Prefer if you opened the door instead of me,” Johnny says calmly, a pillar of strength, stone strong amongst the uncertain shifting sands. 

The door jerks open. Johnny disappears inside and gives you a sheepish glance before he shuts the door behind him. It’s fine. You can wait out here. The hollow feeling inside your chest seems to grow and swell, throbbing in time with your heart like an angry bruise. You wished you were inside the bathroom too, a part of their duo, more than just a temporary fixture in their bedroom. Should you get dressed? God, should you leave? No—you couldn’t do that, not before making sure that Simon was okay. 

After nearly ten minutes of heated whispers back and forth, the door opens and the two trudge out of the bathroom. Simon can’t meet your eye. 

“Well,” says Johnny, rubbing the back of his own neck. “This has been enlightening. Time for aftercare?” 

“Doesn’t aftercare usually come after something?” Simon asks waspishly. “Didn’t even manage to fucking do anything.” 

“Prepared to do something, didn’t we?” says Johnny, like it is a simple matter. “Can we get you anything? W—”

“You can get the hell out.” 

You slip off the bed. You don’t need to be told twice. You find where your clothes are piled carefully on top of the dresser and slip your underwear on beneath the robe, feeling too raw to just let the slinky, silky fabric fall to your feet and bare you to the room. 

“It’s important, Simon,” Johnny says, calm and resolute. “The way you’re acting tells me you need it.” 

“I need you to stop yapping for once in your goddamn life,” says Ghost, dressing himself with jerky movements on the other side of the room. 

“Then do it for her, aye?” Who? you wonder, looking over your shoulder. There is only you. You glance over your shoulder to see that Simon has stopped dressing himself, top half still bare, eyeing down Johnny like a dog who hasn’t decided yet if he intends to fight or find the threat beneath him. Johnny tips his head toward you. “She needs it too. Can’t you tell?” 

Simon’s brow furrows, mouth dipping into an even deeper scowl. His eyes flicker towards you, but you are determined to show him that whatever Johnny is saying is wrong. He doesn’t need to let you do anything; you’re fine. You hadn’t even been the one to safeword! But whatever he sees on your face has his eyes going a little soft, his mouth a little less harsh. 

“Water, I guess,” he mutters. “‘M thirsty.” 

“I’ll get it,” says Johnny. When he passes you, he lets his hand rest on your shoulder, dragging softly from one shoulder blade to the other. He asks: “Will you stay with him?”

You nod. Johnny isn’t giving you much of a choice. Not for the first time, you resent his meddling, the near-omniscient way he seems to know what everyone needs even when you couldn’t say for yourself  what that is. 

Simon has seated himself on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. With his back turned, you feel fine to drop the robe and tug a shirt on. Carefully toeing your way around the bed, you stand beside him, frowning, unsure what you’re doing here. Why you’re here. Johnny should be here. You should be fetching water like Lassie.

Simon glances up at you, a flash of irritation. He heaves a sigh. “Not angry at you.” 

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure that’s true. 

“I’m doing every fuckin’ thing right. Why’s it still going wrong?” he wonders, letting his hands down to hang loosely between his legs. 

You step there, until he has to put his hands on your hips, until he can bury his face in your chest. You stroke reach up tentatively, stroking at his hair the soft, easy way that he likes. You’re no good with words—are just as likely to stutter over the wrong words as you are the right ones. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I just know I’m not finished trying. Not if you aren’t.” 

He huffs a breath against you, turning to place his cheek and ear against your sternum. Your heart must be beating out of your chest, but he doesn’t mention it. Each of his slow, even breaths seems to melt away the icy hollow feeling inside your ribs.

“Thanks for stopping us,” you say, in case Johnny hasn't already. 

He looks up at you, dark, endless sort of eyes. He says: “Thanks for letting me.” 

You scratch his scalp softly, unable to respond. Johnny reappears, waters in hand.

[emmyrosee]

suna and 11? CONGRATS EMMY!!!!

THANK YOU ANGEL FACE 🥹🩷

anonymous said 11. Suna and maybe u can tie it with ur recent post and possibly make them break up??? ❤️

11 with Suna… Argument 💔

There’s a deep rooted insecurity suna rintaro holds.

It’s not one he talks about often, nor do you bring it up, because it’s dumb, it’s a stupid little thing that you both know doesn’t make a difference in your relationship, yet Rintaro always finds himself harping and beating himself up over it.

Right now is no exception, as you stand across from him with your hands scrubbing your face, clearly exhausted by the fight.

“I don’t think of Osamu like that!”

“You sure had a hell of a time showing it!”

You had a crush on Osamu first.

Way back when rintaro wasn’t even into you, he couldn’t have known you from some random soul, you had feelings for osamu, but you never acted on them because you assumed he never liked you back- not to mention his insane fan girls. You kept your distance until you moved on; only to meet Rintaro in college, recognizing each other about three weeks in, where your feelings for him started to bloom.

You’d let it slip to him once when recounting high school memories how you fell hard for the dark haired twin, and while yes, it made rintaro tense up, you assured him it was over. You were done with him.

Yet every time you hang out with the group, Rintaro feels that same jealousy creep up his spine.

“God, when will it click for you that I love you!” You cry, desperate for him to hear you. “You! Only you! For five years Rintaro, it’s only ever been you!”

“Don’t act like you still don’t-“

“I DONT!” You bark. “I don’t! Whatever you’re about to say, I. Don’t. Because I do, with you!”

He feels sick to his stomach at this point, your sharp words to him only translating as a defense against his words, desperate to keep something hidden.

Not as a genuine frustration.

“I think you should go be with Osamu,” he snarls. “Since your so comfortable getting him drinks and putting your hands on him-“

“I wasn’t making out with the kid, I was patting his back after a joke!”

“-and maybe you should be with him since he’s just soo funny-“

“MAYBE I WILL!” You shriek.

The plates in the kitchen settle and the doors creak softly at the force of your yells, and your eyes glimmer with remorse but your face harbors exhaustion.

“…what?” He croaks.

“Maybe I should go be with literally anyone else,” you choke. “Since you think I’m flirting with anyone and everyone in the goddamned circle-“

“Wait- no, I just-“

“I don’t care what you do,” you whimper. “I’m sick of your jealousy. I’m sick of your hatred of my friendship with some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about me- you literally picked up the pieces of me he shattered, yet you still think there’s a chance I could love him?” You scoff, “you’re ridiculous.”

He sobers up as you throw your arms out in defeat, “I’m so… tired, of the accusations, Rintaro. I’ve given you five years of unconditional love and gratitude. And all you can boil me down to is someone who had a crush in high school?”

“I’m just so worried to lose you,” he says, voice breaking.

“Yeah? Well, you’ve lost me.” You take a step back and gnaw on your lip, “I’m going to go. Think long and thorough about this. But just know, I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve never trusted me.”

“No, no, no, please, don’t leave-“

“I’ll talk to you later…. Okay?”

He’s never going to hear from you again. This, he knows.

The door closes, and he wipes his tearful eyes with the back of his head, slipping out his phone to look at your happy smiling face again, one he took off the face of the earth with his jealousy.

There’s a black screen that faces back to him. It won’t turn on. He groans and hucks the thing across the room, hearing it clang somewhere far enough away.

He’ll deal with it in the morning. For now, he’s got some wallowing to plan out.

[annwrites]

you came back.

— pairing: harvey specter x exemployee!reader

— type: one-shot (for now. see author's note.)

— summary: after disappearing from new york & harvey's life for a year, he discovers that you've suddenly returned during a chance-meeting at a bookstore where you now work. desperate to right his past wrongs, he agrees to have dinner with you in your apartment. & then the truth reveals itself & his heart is shattered all over again.

— tw: mentions of rape.

— word count: 9,104

— a/n: i intend to eventually make posts exploring reader's relationship w/ harvey & her time in alaska. | my idea post for this fic

"Excuse me, miss. Would you mind helping me? There's a biography I—"

You slowly turn.

you know that voice. Used to hear it every day.

You'd wondered once—when you could no longer recall the sound of it—if you would still recognize it if you ever ran into him again.

Even if you'd never intended to.

You should've known better.

He stares at you with wide eyes. Into your own, which he thought he'd never look into again. Would never see his reflection in those blooming irises again. Would never see himself as you do again.

And yet here you are, right in front of him, gazing up at him as if...as if you'd never even left.

"You came back," he whispers in disbelief.

You hold the novel you'd been ready to slide onto a high shelf tightly to your chest, your heart running away from you.

"Yes."

His hand rises from his side, hovering near your cheek. And then he cups it in his palm. "You're here."

You swallow nervously, unsure how to even respond. So you don't. "You were looking for a book?"

His brows furrow, hand dropping away. "That's it? You...you disappear for a goddamn year—more than—and that's all I get? No—no explanation, or—"

His voice is raised now, that vein near his temple throbbing in irritation.

"Please lower your voice. I'm at work."

He's left speechless then. He takes a step closer.

You lean your head back, looking up at him.

For how long?"

Your brows furrow. "What?"

"How long have you been back in New York?" He asks through gritted teeth.

You tuck a loose curl behind your ear. "About a month."

He stumbles back, laughing without humor, running his hand down his jaw as he nods. "A month. You've been in the city for a month and not once did you—" He shakes his head.

His eyes find their way back to you. "Do you have any idea the hell I went through after you just disappeared in the middle of the night? That next morning you don't show up to work, so I call. Your phone is disconnected. Email was defunct. After work I go to your apartment, only to find it empty, with not so much as a forwarding address left behind. I—" He stops, fuming, shoulders steadily rising and falling as he stares you down.

"I began to think...I actually wondered at one point if you were dead. No one had heard from you. You just dropped off the face of the goddamn Earth. Where the hell did you even go?"

"Alaska."

His jaw falls open slightly, his eyes searching your own, sure that you can't be serious.

"Alaska," he repeats back to you.

You nod gently.

"We have a fight, so you move across the country. What—did...did you seriously drive that entire way?"

It had nothing to do with the fight. It was due to a reason that was so much worse. You wish it had been due to that instead.

How many times had you blamed yourself? Told yourself that if you'd just never bothered asking him, after all those nights together, with him buried inside of you, 'what are we', then it never would've happened.

But you know now that it's no one's fault except one person's. But that individual is neither you nor him. Even if you'd believed so heavily at one time otherwise.

"Yes."

"Why the hell would you do something like that?"

"It gave me time to think."

He takes a step closer. "Why the hell are you being so short with me?"

You turn back around, finally putting the novel you'd been holding away, picking up another from your book cart, ignoring your shaking hands. "I have to get back to work now."

He stands there, continuing to stare at you.

How did you get here? The two of you? He used to...he used to know everything about you. Used to know every inch of you. Whether in the king-sized bed in his apartment, on a marble countertop, or his office desk—he did.

You still smell like warm cinnamon, though. That much has remained the same, at least.

Even if everything else is different now.

"You came back to work at a bookstore. Do they even have benefits?"

Why wouldn't you have came back to him instead?

"I have no interest in returning to office work and answering to lawyers again. I'm a different person now. I want different things."

"You mean you had no interest in returning to me."

You sigh, turning around, grabbing your cart and pushing past him. "I'm not interested in arguing, Harvey."

His heart jumps at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue.

Like when yours used to roll off of his between your soft thighs. Late at night. The city glittering outside those large glass windows as he held you close, tasting you while you cried out for him in pleasure.

He quickly grabs your elbow, turning you back to him. "I deserve an explanation."

You wrap your arms around yourself. "Do you truly need one?"

He looks at you incredulously. "How can you even ask that?"

You glance out the window, watching for a moment as people mill past, one entering the store—a small bell ringing up front to signal their arrival, welcoming them—and then drag your eyes back to the man in front of you.

"Tonight, then. Once everyone else has left the office."

"You can't tell me now?" He asks, arms flying out from his side in exasperation, hands then settling on his hips.

"You want an explanation, that's my stipulation for giving it."

His eyes flit between both of yours before he finally gives a small, terse nod. "Fine."

Harvey leans back in his seat, hands clasped in his lap—his jacket and tie forgotten atop his desk—as he waits patiently for you to explain yourself. To finally answer the mystery that is your whereabouts for the last year.

You study him for a moment, wondering how to even begin.

Going over this potential conversation for hours in your head after seeing him at the bookstore had been no help, as it now turns out.

You look out the window, at the neighboring skyscrapers, lights slowly turning off as people finally head home for the evening to their loved ones.

And then you look back to Harvey. "I need you to understand that what happened to me isn't your fault anymore than it is mine. That I'm okay now. It took a long time for me to be, but I am."

He just looks at you with knitted brows, wondering where this is going as he rests a bent elbow atop an arm of the chair, finger resting over his lips, thumb gripping his chin, while he remains silent.

"The night we fought...after you—" You want desperately to word this in a non-blaming way. "After you went home, I did, too. It was late, and there were no taxis around. So I told myself just to walk until I spotted one."

You swallow thickly, looking down to your hands. Even now they still tremble slightly. You hate him for still having such a hold over you.

"He came out of nowhere. I didn't see him. He grabbed me, drug me into an alley. He had a knife. Told me what would happen if I screamed. So I stayed quiet."

Everything is so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"He raped me."

Harvey's chin trembles.

"Twice. I just...let him. I was terrified. All I could think the entire time that he was inside of me was...this is how I'm going to die. Everything I ever wanted—meant to do—it's lost to me now. I'll die in this alley with this man's...him leaking out of me. And I'll be the girl on the news who was raped and murdered next to a dumpster. That's how I'll be remembered. That will have been the summation of my life: what he did to me."

You pull nervously at your fingers. "After he was finished, he left me lying there. Once I finally got myself home I wasn't—I wasn't thinking clearly. I took a shower, I threw up, I didn't sleep. First thing in the morning, I called a moving company. Told them I wanted movers to come in, box up all my things, and that i was going to Alaska. I'd always dreamt of seeing it. So I went."

You look at him again, your stomach sinking when you see the tears shimmering in his eyes, the wobbling of his lips.

"Now you know."

He rises suddenly. "I'm going to be sick."

He rushes out the glass door of his office and you give him a moment before following after him into the men's restroom.

You find him leaning over a sink, splashing cold water onto his face as he cries.

"Harvey," you say softly.

He quickly picks up a handful of folded paper towels and wipes his face dry before looking at you.

"Sweetheart, I—" His face crumples. "I'm so fucking sorry. This is all my goddamn fault."

You had wanted so dearly to avoid this. You knew he would put all of the blame upon himself.

He comes toward you, taking you into his arms, holding you to his chest as he cups the back of your head, his body shaking as he sobs into your hair.

"I'm so sorry."

You slide your hands up his back, quietly shooshing him. "It's no one's but his. I don't blame you. It's okay."

"It's not okay. I should've driven you home that night. Instead, I left here angry. Told you to find your own way home. When all you did was—was ask me what we were."

He begins to cry harder.

You remain quiet.

Finally, he pulls away slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands resting against the small of your back. "You never told the police?"

"Like I said, I wasn't thinking clearly. I just...all i could think about was leaving. Going to Alaska. Nothing else mattered to me at that time but getting there."

He firmly presses his lips to your forehead, tears slipping from his eyes. "I want you to know I thought about you every day. That I missed you. That you were—you'd always been more to me than just sex. Losing you—this—is one of the greatest regrets of my life. One of my biggest mistakes. So many times I wished I had just told you how I felt. Had apologized for the shit I said that night instead of just leaving."

His eyes flutter closed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

He knows that even if you do, he never will. He deserves to live with this. All those panic attacks that'd overtaken him in your absence...he had deserved them and so much worse. He should've had a fucking heart attack instead. Maybe then he would've gotten his penance.

"There's nothing to forgive."

He knows he'll never agree.

“Hi.”

Your eyes close for just a moment as you take a deep breath before opening them again and turning around.

Harvey gives you a soft smile.

“I’m on lunch right now,” he states with a shrug, stepping closer.

“Oh.”

He keeps his shaking hands in his pockets as he continues.

“I wanted—” he pauses.

There’s no not-obvious way to word this.

He starts again. “I imagine the answer is yes, but I’m asking anyway: do you have a car yet?”

You nod. “I do. I bought it in Alaska. It’s not a Rolls Royce, but it gets me around.”

You smile. “I’m happy with it.”

Wanting to purchase you one now would’ve still been too little too late, he thinks.

He finally jumps into the deep end. “I’d like to take over paying for your rent.”

Your eyes flit between his, your stomach sinking as you just then notice the dark circles beneath them. “You look exhausted.”

You reach up, cupping his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at your gentle touch that he’s missed so much.

“Did you…you didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

His eyes slowly open. “Work. New client. It’s a big case.”

You know he’s lying, but don’t push it.

“Thank you for the offer, but I can pay my own rent, Harvey.”

“Utilities, then.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “You don’t need to do this. I told you that you didn’t need to blame yourself. That I didn’t. You don’t have any reason to feel guilty.”

He glances away for a moment, thinking, shaking his head slightly before he returns to looking at you. “You can tell yourself—tell me—all you want that it’s not my fault, but it is. All of it. All it would’ve taken was one car ride and this would’ve been avoided. But just like always, I was being selfish. Thinking of one person. And I cost you everything because of it.”

He steps closer to you, removing his trembling hand from his pocket, clasping it around your upper arm gently. “Let me take you to dinner, then. Something. Please. I’m begging you.”

I have to do something. I’m drowning and you’re my only source of air. I’m so sorry.

Please.

Your lips slowly turn upwards into a small smile. “How about I make you dinner instead?”

His brows furrow. “I should be the one doing that for you.”

You shake your head. “You owe me nothing. You want to do something for me? Then let me do this.”

You’d always been this way. It was one of the reasons losing you had hit him so incredibly hard. You didn’t use him. Not for money or fine things. You didn’t care that he lived in an expensive high-rise apartment. Didn’t lust after his fancy suits. Didn’t care about his proud title of being the best closer in the city.

You just wanted his attention and time. You wanted him—saw him. Or, at least, had.

Finally, he nods. “If that’s really what you want.”

“It is.”

You stick a few beaded bookmarks into their display case, then a pack of fruit-shaped erasers next to them and Harvey just watches you all the while.

Somehow being here suits you. Surrounded by books and trinkets, soft jazz music playing overhead as people mingle silently about the shelves.

Working for someone like him was never going to be where you belonged. You had a heart that was far too honest and good and pure for a law firm—whether you were only serving as an office assistant or not—and loving.

He misses when it had once loved him.

But he’d chosen to throw that all away. And for what? ‘Freedom’? Freedom from what? To do what?

Continue having meaningless one-night stands with shallow women he barely even saw the faces of? Not that he had wanted to. Because the second he did—his erection was lost, along with the fantasy. They weren’t the girl he desperately needed them to be. They couldn’t fill the massive, gaping hole in his chest that your absence had left behind.

So he’d stopped.

Ten months it had been since he’d last been inside a woman. Ten months since he’d so much as wanted to be.

But standing next to you now… Looking you over, your soft curled hair, the satin bow you have tied at the back, your brown dress and tights with a pair of boots—you never had bothered with stilettos or heels in general—and smelling the sweet scent of cinnamon that clings to you—buying you a bottle of Chanel had just been a waste of money that one time, he now knew—he feels his body coming alive again.

And it’s such an incredible sensation after going without it so long. Without you.

Not that he has you back.

He’s unsure that he ever will. In any sense. But if there’s even a minuscule chance… He will do quite literally whatever it takes to win you back. Anything.

Losing you again just might kill him the next time. He’d been surprised more than once that his panic attacks hadn’t landed him in the hospital when he was gasping for breath as his heart squeezed with agonizing pain in his chest every time he looked at your empty desk. Every time he redialed a number that no longer existed, only to be greeted by that empty, robotic voice apologizing that you couldn’t be reached. He’d sent numerous emails to an address that only ever bounced back. But who else did he have to talk to with you being gone?

No one.

He had no one. And he’d made it that way.

All his fault.

Finally, he speaks. “Can I get your address? I doubt you’re at the same apartment as before, but—”

You turn around, finishing up with the mini-notebooks you’d just been seeing to putting away. “I’m not.”

He pulls out his phone and glances up to you, ready to begin typing, taking this in stride as a good first step at repairing what he’s broken.

You swipe the tomatoes you’d just finished dicing up on your cutting board into the pot atop your stove, glancing back to your tablet on the countertop.

“I can smell it from here. Hardly seems fair that you’re making one of my favorites for another man.”

You smile widely, shaking your head as you start on the green bell pepper next. “You say that about everything I make.”

He grins. “Because you’re such a good cook, baby.”

You stare at him for a moment. “One of us has to be.”

He points his finger toward the webcam. “Hey, I can make a really great bowl of microwavable ramen, as you well know.”

“Is that what you’re surviving off of out there?”

He shakes his head. “No. Crabs—sushi.”

“Oh yeah?” Your lip twitches. “Diving in to catch dinner between shifts for the rest of the crew?”

He studies you for a moment, his own lip twitching as well. “You know how I like it raw, baby.”

You burst into a fit of laughter then.

He smiles warmly, wishing desperately he was there to touch you—kiss you. “It’s so good to hear that. I’ve missed it. You have no idea how much I miss you.”

Your laughs slowly cease, your heart aching. “I do.”

You look back down to the pepper, cutting it into small pieces. “It’s been…difficult. Sleeping at night. Without you here to…to hold me.”

Your eyes flit back to the screen.

He doesn’t hesitate to ask it. “Do you need to come back?”

Your brows furrow. “I just got here—”

“Doesn’t matter. If you need to come back to Alaska, then you do what you did before: you get movers in there tomorrow morning and we get them to drive it all back. I’ll get you on a plane first thing so you can come home.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “It’s not about that. It’s just being apart from you. Which I still would be, even if I jumped on a plane—while living in darkness for the next month all alone—I can’t do that without you. Having you there was the only thing that got me through it last time.”

He nods. “I know. I just had to ask.”

You finish up with the pepper, adding it in next.

“I think it’s just that when I first got here—between settling in and finding a job—I was keeping myself busy. Now I have more time to think. Dwell…”

“On him?”

You glance to the screen, wondering which one he’s referring to. So you simply ask. “Which one do you mean?”

“Either. Both.”

“I know I’ll never see my rapist again. Or, rather, if I walked by him on the street, I obviously wouldn’t recognize him. It’s in the past now. I worked past it in therapy. You know how much I liked going to group,” you say with a shrug, and he nods with a smile.

He’d been grateful to the people you met there for helping pull you back from the edge. Liked that you enjoyed going and talking to and confiding in them so much.

You continue. “As for Harvey…I just hate that he’s going to have to live with it now. Like me. That all the time it took for me to no longer blame myself—he’s at that starting line.”

Charlies thinks how best for a moment to word it, but there’s really no other way to. “It’s not your job to absolve him of his guilt.”

You glance to him, mentally raising a brow at his tone. There was only one of you who had moved past heaping blame upon him.

“He couldn’t have known.”

He sighs, about to have a conversation the two of you have repeated time and again. “No, but he allowed a young woman to walk home alone late at night in New York. I don’t give a shit how angry he was—not that you asking for someone to love you back is something I can ever imagine being angry at you for. Nothing excuses it.”

He stops talking then, knowing he could go further—has in the past. To just throw you away like that… He can’t fathom it. Not now. Not with you being his entire life. But he’s never been the kind of man to take good things for granted, either.

“I could’ve gotten on my office phone and just called a cab instead of hoping to spot one from the street.”

He rests his arms atop the desk he’s seated at, softening.

“It’s one person’s fault,” he reminds you.

Even if he’ll always resent Harvey, even minimally—doesn’t matter that he has no idea what he so much as looks like—he will. Because he had hurt the girl he loves in such a terrible way.

You nod, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

You sigh, grinning. “So, about your famous ramen—”

There’s a knock at the door then and you turn your head in that direction.

“He there?” Charlie asks.

You set your knife down, turning back to him. “Well, it’s either him or my boyfriend.”

“That’s it, I’m getting on a plane,” he replies with a playful smile.

You giggle.

“Alright, I’ll let you go. I need to soon myself anyway.”

You nod, ignoring the tears that sting your eyes as you force a smile. “Be careful. And…make sure you’re eating enough. And staying warm. And—”

“I am, baby. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Because you don’t worry about me?”

He shrugs. “Fair enough.”

Another knock.

You sigh.

“I love you, sweetheart. Let me know how it goes tomorrow.”

“I will. I love you, too. More than anything.”

“Bye, baby.”

“Bye.”

Once he’s ended the video chat, you stare at your reflection in the black screen and your face crumples as you wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder if he ever does the same—falls apart for even just a moment after being forced to say goodbye yet again. Doing it dozens of times still has yet to make it any easier.

Finally, you take a deep breath, gathering yourself, and head for the front door.

“I brought wine. Hope that’s okay,” Harvey says, handing you the bottle.

You take it from him with a smile and a nod. “It is. Thank you. You really didn’t need to, though.”

You head back in the direction of the kitchen, retrieving a corkscrew from a drawer, and hand it to him.

“Would you mind? I need to stir the pasta.”

He shakes his head, taking it from you—his fingers brushing against yours—watching as you turn back toward the stove, doing a brief taste-test.

Once he’s opened the bottle, you nod toward the cabinet next to him. “Wine glasses are in there.”

He retrieves two, handing you one once he’s filled it enough for a sample.

“Tell me what you think.”

You take a small sip, nodding. “It’s good. I’m just glad it’s not white.”

He grins, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms. “Yeah, well, I got a kick out of the look on your face the night I bought a five thousand dollar bottle of it to try and impress you, if nothing else.”

You add in a bit of Italian seasoning, placing the small bottle back on the spice rack. “I was just as happy to have a glass of ice water.”

He stares at the back of your beautiful head of hair with a soft smile. “I know.”

Harvey takes a chance to take a look around your apartment then, stepping into the living room that’s just behind the counter he’d been previously leaned back against.

It’s small, but cozy.

Warm.

Homey.

Like you.

To his right is the front door he’d just come through, directly in front of him your couch, a coffee table in front of it, a small entertainment center with a flat screen standing atop it pushed against the wall, bookshelves on either side of it.

Behind the couch are more shelves with floor-length windows in-between. Beside the entertainment center is the bathroom and beside it, your presumable bedroom.

Blankets, pillows, books, candles, plants, and adorable knick-knacks are very-much in abundance. Along with rugs here and there—paintings, and a quilt hanging on the wall that has patches of warm, neutral colors sewn together.

“You get this in Alaska?” He calls from the living room, taking a sip of his wine.

“Hm?”

“The quilt by your front door.”

“Oh! Yes, I did. There was a craft fair in town. I entered into a raffle for it and I won.”

You’d wanted it so badly that Charlie had joked that if you didn’t win it, he’d mug the person who did just to get it for you.

Harvey smirks. A craft fair. Sounds like you.

He returns to the kitchen then, admiring your small herb planters resting on the windowsill in front of the sink.

And then he studies the various magnets stuck to your fridge. One being that of the Empire State Building, which makes him smile.

And then his brows furrow, a cold feeling overtaking him as he slips a photo free from a magnet of the state of Alaska that holds it in-place.

A man with a short beard and short, messy blonde hair smiles at the camera—your arms wrapped around his neck as you place a firm kiss to his cheek—snow-capped mountains in the background, the sun shining in the distance.

“Who—who is this?” He asks, glancing to you.

You turn off the burner on the stove, glancing to him, then the photo he grips between his fingers. “Oh, that’s Charlie. My fiance.”

His heart squeezes painfully, and he suddenly feels lightheaded.

“You’re getting married?” He asks with a tone of disbelief.

You keep your back turned to him as you retrieves plates from the cabinet. “In a little over a month, when I go back to Alaska.”

He stumbles back, dropping the picture. He coughs, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, struggling to breathe.

He had thought he was past these.

The world begins to move in slow motion, his body feeling disconnected from his mind—heart jumping and beating unevenly in his chest. His hands begin to tremble as his throat tightens and constricts.

He rushes toward the bathroom, ignoring as you call for him in concern as he slams the door behind him, doubling over the sink before his legs give out and he falls to the floor—knocking something over.

“Harvey!” you call from outside the bathroom with a panicked tone.

You knock a few times in rapid succession while he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to count backwards from ten—desperate to breathe.

You finally open the door and your eyes widen in fear at the sight of him doubled over, a hand clutching his chest as he takes in wheezing breaths.

You drop to your knees in front of him, taking his face firmly between your hands as your eyes flit between his—wide and frightened. “What do I—oh God, should—do I need to call an ambulance? Are—are you having a heart attack?!”

He swiftly takes one of your hands in his, squeezing hard. “Panic—”

You shake your head, desperate to understand. “Are—a panic attack?”

He nods repeatedly.

You seat yourself next to him. “What do I do? Are you supposed to take something for it? Is it in your pocket? I don’t—”

He suddenly wraps his arms around you then, pulling you toward him, burying his face between your breasts, closing his eyes as he begins trying to count again while he breathes in your comforting scent.

You suddenly quiet, reaching up and wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while you run the fingers of your other shaking hand through his hair.

You have half-a-mind to start singing him a nursery rhyme, having no idea what else to do—desperate to help—but eventually decide against it.

Finally, his breathing steadies, his body loosens, and he’s left feeling utterly drained as his heart returns to a normal rhythm at last.

He doesn’t let go of you, however.

“You’re leaving,” he mumbles, cheek resting against the plane between your soft breasts while he listens to your heart for comfort.

You caress his head in your hands. “In a month, yes.”

He tightens his arms around your body. As if holding you now will prevent you from leaving again later.

“Why come back in the first place just to leave again? And so soon? Especially if you have…him there waiting for you?”

“Did you know it’s essentially night in Alaska for two months? Every year?”

He shrugs. “I think I heard that once.”

He closes his eyes.

“The only thing that got me through that darkness last time was Charlie. I think I would’ve had an easier time about it if—” You stop.

“If you hadn’t been running from what happened to you here,” he finishes.

You swallow, nodding. “He’s working on an off-shore oil rig right now. I just…the thought of going through those two months all alone—sixty days—I couldn’t. So we talked about it. I know New York is a long ways away. But I came here for two reasons. One, it’s familiar. So there was comfort there. Two, to face my fears. Which was—is—simultaneously uncomfortable, but…it’s something I needed to do for myself.”

“So what are you going to do when you go back and in another ten months it gets dark again?”

“Once I get back, we get married, and then we’re moving out west. To Wyoming. And then we’ll start our new life together.”

He feels his heart stutter again.

“I thought—” He stops, opening his eyes again, ignoring the tears that cause them to sting. “I thought you’d come back for good.”

He pulls back, looking at you. “I guess that’s why you didn’t try to reach out to me. That, and the fact that I only serve as a reminder.”

You shake your head, taking his face between your hands. “You’re not.”

“Then explain it to me. Because had I not walked into that bookstore I never would’ve known. Would I?”

You release him then, settling your hands in your lap, crossing your legs. “You’d made it clear that last night that we were done. So I moved on. I saw no reason to try and get back in touch with you.”

He leans back against the tub.

“Did you not—” He stops, sighing, not wanting to make it about himself. “Somewhere along the way, you didn’t wonder what you suddenly up and disappearing would’ve left me to think?”

He looks at you then, watching as you stare down at your hands, fidgeting with your engagement ring that he’d failed to bother with noticing before.

Entitled.

That’s what he was for thinking you couldn’t have possibly moved on. For thinking that you still belonged, somehow, to him within your heart.

You shrug. “Honestly? I figured you would’ve gotten past it fairly quickly. Even at that, that you’d have my position filled before the end of the week.”

He turns toward you, resting an arm on the edge of the tub, shaking his head. “That’s how little you thought you meant to me?”

Your eyes meet his then. “Isn’t that what you said?”

He shuts his mouth, his eyes filling with sadness for you. For the destruction he wrought.

How many times has he claimed that he doesn’t get attached, when he knows otherwise? But it’s only when the other person dares ask for more that he finally lashes out. As if he’s not guilty of wanting it, too.

He’s just too much of a coward to allow himself to have it.

And now? Now it has lost him everything.

Again.

He slumps back.

“I don’t…remember you having panic attacks before,” you say quietly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “They started after you left.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh.”

He crosses his arms. “They got pretty bad. I was having them every day. Sometimes multiple times just in one. The day I collapsed in front of a client was the day I knew I had to finally get help. That they weren’t going away on their own.”

He could still remember it.

He’d been in a conference room, meeting with them, and a girl had walked past—from the back she had resembled you so closely—so he’d froze as he stared, mouth still hanging open from being mid-sentence. From her hair, to the way she was dressed—she’d even had the right build. And then she’d turned around to speak to someone and he’d seen her face.

And his body had gone cold all over, and then his knees gave out.

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”

He smirks, wryly. “My therapist tells me I have abandonment issues, apparently.”

Your face crumples. “I didn’t intend for my leaving to… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Harvey.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” he says, settling one of his hands over yours.

“I’ll stop as soon as you do,” you say with a small smile.

He doesn’t return your humor.

You sigh then. “Would you still like to have dinner?”

His eyes flit to the doorway. “If I’m being honest, I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

He twines his fingers between yours.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “I could send you home with some tupperware?”

His head jerks back to you. “You want me to leave?”

Your brows furrow and you begin shaking your head. “No, of course not. I just meant when you are ready to go.”

There’s a beat of silence before he finally stands.

He offers you his hand. “I should at least try it, since you went through all the trouble to cook for me.”

The two of you remained fairly silent through dinner.

Harvey had eaten slowly, but he’d cleaned his plate, which had pleased you to see.

You’d told him about how beautiful Alaska is, and about some of the odd jobs you did there—waitressing, assisting at a small library, cleaning at a local rec center. And he’d told you about some of his recent cases.

It became quickly apparent that the two of you weren’t sure how to talk anymore. Not unless it was about the elephant—rather, elephants—in the room.

Harvey was chomping at the bit to discuss Charlie, but the thought of willingly asking about him—the man who had taken you from him…he’d refused.

So, he’d instead stared at you every chance he got—trying his utmost not to make it glaringly obvious, but being near you again made it near-impossible not to.

He smiled softly as you gushed about the serene nature of Alaska—the mountains, snow, and rivers, the animals and lakes. The small-town people, and how much you enjoyed the jobs you did and the small house you’d rented.

And then you’d brought up group therapy. And how much it had meant to you—helped you. How Charlie had been the one to encourage you to try it. And you were beyond thankful that he had.

Harvey had smiled and told you that he was happy for you—about all of it. But it only served as further proof of the things that still meant the most to you—not being material ones, that is.

He’d been so ignorant to think that money was ever going to be the thing which would make and keep you happy.

Even if that fact had only served to make him fall even harder for you as time went on. But it’d also made being with you all the more difficult—at times, at least. At other instances, it made it as easy as breathing.

In any other relationship, pleasing a woman was a simple task to accomplish by gifting her a box from Tiffany or a shopping bag from Saks—dinner and drinks at a high-end restaurant.

But every time he presented you with a bracelet of sterling silver, or a Swiss watch, or a new dress from Dolce and Gabbana, you’d give him a smile and a polite ‘thank you’, but the look in your eyes always said the same thing: What do I do with this? It’s not what I’m here for—you are; I want you. Can’t you see it yet?

You didn’t want a brand new diamond necklace. You preferred an antique locket—preferably with the photos still inside—from a flea market. You didn’t want skimpy lingerie that cost a few hundred dollars—a warm sweater from Target was enough to please you. You didn’t want thousand dollar dinners at bougie restaurants. You preferred Chinese takeout and a movie playing in the background as you curled into his side on the couch. You didn’t care about being driven around town in sports cars. You enjoyed walks in the park, with your arm wrapped around his, while you sprinkled seed for the birds and watched families playing with their children.

“Did you keep any of it?” He finally asks.

He wouldn’t blame you if you had set it all ablaze with a bottle of lighter fluid instead.

“Hm?”

“All the gifts I bought you.”

You set your fork down, settling your hands in your lap, looking down nervously.

Your body language alone serves as his answer.

“I donated it, actually.”

He doesn’t hate you for it. He’s not even surprised by it. You having a charitable heart wasn’t a new development.

He’d tried taking you shopping once uptown, and after showing you a three-thousand dollar dress he’d wished to see you try on, along with a pair of Jimmy Choos, you’d looked at the price tags and then at him—your smile quickly fading.

You’d merely asked him, as you placed it all back, for him to use that money to make a difference instead. So, the next morning, he’d called you into his office and made you watch as he wrote a check for the same amount to a local homeless shelter.

His heart had melted as he watched you fight back tears at the gesture.

He’d done it for you. Just to make you happy.

He hates the look of guilt on your face at your answer. So he decides to lighten the mood. “Even the lingerie?”

You grin and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“I did keep one thing.”

He raises a brow.

You stand, padding over to your record player and you retrieve an album and return to the table.

He smiles, nodding as he looks it over. His first gift to you.

“The thing you kept was the one thing I didn’t buy.”

He hands it back to you, but his grip stays strong as you go to grab it.

Your eyes meet his.

“Do you remember the night I gave it to you?”

You nod.

He stands, releasing it, and you quickly hug it to your chest.

“Do you want to do it again?” He asks, one hand sliding into his pocket, the other cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against the apple of it.

You take a small step back, shaking your head—knowing that one thing had led to another that evening, and that you’ll never go down that road again.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

A beat of silence, and then he asks the question that's been gnawing at him all through dinner. "Does he know about us? What we had? Does he know I'm here right now?"

You nod, heading toward the kitchen. "We have no secrets between us. Honesty is something we both cherish and something we both agreed upon early-on. That we would tell each other everything. No matter how uncomfortable it may be. Being able to bare our souls to one another... We don't see a reason in being together if we can't."

He wonders what kind of man would allow you to be alone with someone like him after all he's done. All the pain he's caused. But even more than that: after the sort of relationship that'd carried on between the two of you before.

A better one, perhaps. One that doesn't make you promise that you belong only to him while he refuses to give you the same in return.

A man that trusts you wholly.

Harvey leans back against the counter to the right of you, watching as you finish with loading the dishwasher, wiping down the sink.

His heart pounds rapidly in his chest—so hard it hurts, his mouth dry, and stomach twisting with anxiety.

He shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t even be thinking it.

There’s a lot he shouldn’t have.

He should be a better man than this, but he’d made a promise to himself, and he was nothing if not a man of his word.

“I want you to leave him and come back to me.”

Your spine stiffens.

Meanwhile, he ignores it and goes full-steam head.

“Marry me. We’ll go to the courthouse first thing in the morning—as soon as they open—and become husband and wife. I’ll buy you any diamond ring you like. I’ll throw you as big a wedding as you like. I’ll get you a brand new car—fresh off the lot. I’ll buy you any house you want—fully furnished—in any neighborhood you want. And if you want your job back at the firm, I’ll make it happen. With a raise. Better benefits. Whatever you wish. Just tell me, and I’ll do it. You won’t have to worry about another thing ever again if you just say yes. I’ll take care of you.”

He grows silent then, his underarms sweating, his body practically vibrating from nerves.

And then you reply quietly, and simply. “No.”

He refuses to accept that as your final answer.

“I know this seems sudden. But I made a promise to myself that if you ever came back I would fight like hell to keep you. To fix what I’d broken. I wouldn’t just let you go again without giving it everything I could to win you back.”

He steps over to you then, turning you around, cupping one side of your face in his hand while the other slides around your waist to hold you close. “I lost you once. I don’t intend to do it again. Next time…next time it might just finally kill me. I can’t live without you. I know that now. I learned from my mistakes. Just—come back to me. Please.”

“Charlie is my home,” you say quietly, tears shimmering in your eyes.

His own flit between yours. “Is he willing to give you everything I just offered? Can he give you the kind of life that I can?”

You press your hands to his chest, but he refuses to loosen his hold.

“He’s not buying me a house, Harvey. He’s going to build us one—our dream home. He isn’t purchasing me some flashy diamond ring. He’s giving me his mother’s. And he’s not trying to bribe me back into a relationship with the offer of an empty, unfulfilling job. He’s going to provide me a life where I can stay home and care for our children while he takes care of the rest. And his proposal wasn’t an attempt at rectifying some mistake of previously taking me for granted. He proposed because he knew early-on that he couldn’t imagine going back to living a life without me in it.”

He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing.

“After all this time you still don’t see me. Don’t understand me.”

He shakes his head, his eyes searching your own, wanting elaboration.

“You still think that money will solve all of your problems when that was never what I cared about. Harvey, you had me. I gave you my heart, but you threw it away, because all you wanted me for was my body. It took me driving over four thousand miles away to see things clearly. But I finally did. You treated me like some…some call girl—some prostitute—instead of with respect. You made me feel disposable. But I put up with it because I thought if I held on tight enough, and for long enough, you’d eventually love me back. Even now you’re willing to ruin another man’s life, so long as it gets you what you want. It has nothing to do with me.”

“That is bullshit,” he spits. “It has everything to do with you and you know it. You really think I’d ever make these kinds of offers to another woman? You’re what I want. Baby,” he leans in closer to you. “I’m sorry, alright?”

Tears fill his eyes. “I’m sorry for what I did. That I broke your heart. That I destroyed your life. But mine was left in shambles, too, the day you left. I can’t take losing you twice.”

You shake your head. “You don’t get to try and guilt-trip me into a marriage with someone I don’t want to be with anymore.”

He flinches.

“The truth is that you and I would’ve never worked out in the long run. We want different things. We’re too different. Charlie doesn’t buy what other men make. He does it himself with his own two hands. He’s not materialistic. He’s sentimental like me—he finds joy in the little things and the quiet moments. And he’s not ashamed to let other people in—to be vulnerable. If he had been…”

You sniffle. “I don’t know if I’d even be alive right now if it weren’t for him. He came into my life when I desperately needed someone and I fell for him instantly, despite being terrified. Of everything. He saw me. And I tried to pull away. I can’t tell you how many times I did. But he knew why. And he refused to go. He held on tight with everything he had because he knew from the first day he set eyes on me that…that I was what he wanted. Who. That we’re meant to be together.”

Harvey’s chin wobbles as he rapidly grasps for something—anything—to say to still turn this around.

He stares down at you. “Tell me you don’t feel anything for me, then. That you don’t still love me.”

You grow quiet for a moment, a tear slipping down your cheek, which he gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“A part of me may always love you, Harvey. But I’m not in love with you. Not anymore.”

His brows furrow. “What’s the goddamn difference?”

“Loving you means hoping that you find what I have. Being in love with you, means hoping it’s with me. And I don’t.”

He lets out a small sob, his heart breaking in two.

“Charlie is my home” you repeat. “I don’t…expect you to understand what that feels like—”

“I know exactly what it feels like,” he says, cutting you short. “Now imagine losing that suddenly and without warning. What kind of hell do you think that would put you through?”

“I didn’t make that decision. You chose to let go. I offered you my love on a silver platter and you threw it back in my face. But in the end I’m glad you did. Even after what happened to me… I never believed before that everything happens for a reason like so many say. I just saw life as a series of random choices we’re all forced to make every day. There’s no rhyme or reason to any of it. It’s just the way things are. But when I met him that changed. We were meant to find each other.”

Finally he says the only thing he has left to try and pull you back.

“But I love you.”

Your lip trembles. “I love him. With everything I have. My heart, my mind, my body, my soul. I gave him everything I can because I want him to have it. Because I trust him to hold those things in the palms of his hands. Because with him, they all have value. With him I feel like I do. I never felt that with you. With you I just…settled.”

The two of you stand there, staring at one another, him wracking his mind with something else to offer.

“I’ll move to Wyoming and open my own firm, then.”

You glance away, shaking your head.

“I’ll…I’ll build you a house. I’ll figure out how. And you can be a housewife if that’s really what you want—”

You pull away from him. “Stop.”

“I can’t. I let go once and it destroyed both of us. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Your wants are not the only things that matter.”

He grows angry. But not with you. Himself.

He knows it’s over and done. Has been since that last night.

He hurt you. In such an unimaginable way. He wants you to repay it.

“You really think some rough neck that works on an oil rig is a better man than me?”

Your eyes fill with loathing then. You he can talk about. Charlie? No. That you won’t allow.

“So he has rough hands. As if that means anything—”

“It means everything to me.”

“He won’t be enough for you. You’ll get bored with playing Little House. And when you do—”

“Stop.”

“When you do—”

“I said stop it, Harvey. I know what you’re doing.”

He shuts his mouth.

Your anger quickly melts away into heartbreak. For him.

“We can’t do this to each other again. We can’t let our last words to each other be in anger. Twice. Haven’t you learned yet? Don’t you get tired of it? Punishing yourself?”

He looks away, crossing his arms, finally breaking as he begins to cry. “I fucking destroyed your life.”

His shoulders begin to shake as he sobs.

You come toward him, wrapping your arms around him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you into him.

“I’m so goddamn sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You choke back a sob. “Shh. It’s not your fault. I forgive you. You don’t have to feel guilty.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to live without you.”

“I know.”

“Please come back to me, I’ll do anything you say. I can fix it.”

The lump in your throat grows so large that you can’t form words over it, so you instead begin to cry with him.

Once you’ve both begun to quiet and calm, you break the silence. “You won’t feel like this forever, Harvey. I promise.”

You pull back just enough to take his face between your hands. “I thought I’d never make it out of that dark tunnel that swallowed me whole. But one day I found a glimmer of light at the end and I fought with everything I had to hold onto it. The pain of what happened to me will always be with me, but one day it was just…easier to bear. Especially when I found someone willing—wanting—to help me carry it.”

You press a kiss to his forehead. “One day you will find her: the woman you’re meant to be with. You just have to give yourself permission to be happy. Give her permission to make you as much. And you cherish what you build together.”

“What if I already did?” He asks, tears slipping down his cheeks.

You smile. “Sweetheart, we would’ve eventually made each other miserable. Because one of us would’ve had to settle so the other could get the life they wanted. I hate the city and you would’ve hated the country. I hate the idea of dedicating my life to a career, while yours is your life. You like flashy, expensive things, while I prefer second-hand finds that I can give another life to. You may’ve loved me, but you would’ve hated the life we had and vice-versa.”

He pulls you close to him again, cupping the back of your head. “I love you so much.”

More tears begin to slip down your cheeks. Nothing you say is going to—

“And it’s because I love you that I know I have to let you go. For your sake this time instead of mine.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You feel like home to me. But that’s the thing about home—is that it’s just that: a feeling. And in time…maybe I can find it again.”

You nod, smiling. “I think I might know a good place to start when you’re ready.”

You lean back, gently running your fingertips through the short, soft hairs just above his ear. “She knows everything about you. And she’s been waiting all this time. Get Donna back as your secretary. Tell her how much she means to you, and go from there. Don’t let her slip through your fingers again, or you’ll never forgive yourself. She’s the one, Harvey. I know it. Just like he is for me. You don’t even have to go looking, because she’s already right there in front of you. It’s not too late.”

His eyes study yours for just a moment, and then he nods.

“Thank you,” he starts. “For giving me a chance to do it right this time.”

“I think it’s part of why I came back. I just didn’t realize it until now. Being able to say goodbye the right way. Not with anger or heated words. I think this closure is something we both needed.”

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, and you let him.

He kisses you.

And you kiss him back.

And then he whispers goodbye.

As do you.

And then he leaves.

And it’s with peace in his heart, which beats steadily in his chest.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 26

part 1 | part 25 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use

He’s marching over the grass with a couple of varsity guys; two on his left, two on his right; V-formation like a flock of geese. Jason's at the head of the group, self-assured purpose of a leader, and it’s weird, seeing this little runt all grown up. The kid used to worship Steve; used to follow him around practices like a lost puppy, called him Captain before he’d even earned the role.

“Is this freak bothering you?” Jason asks. His voice is harsh, winded, winding up for a fight. Steve can see it in his stance: the tightening of his jaw, the clench of his friends’ fists. Plant your feet.

Steve’s gotta shut this shit down before it goes where it always does. Smashed plates, broken bones. All pissing contests flow toward the ocean or whatever.

“Nah, man,” he answers, standing up to dust himself off. The coke zips under his skin, makes him jittery and hot. Hard to play it cool. “We’re good. Busted my ass on the rocks; Munson was just helping me up.”

Munson. Like they’re buddies. Like Eddie’s thumb isn’t still damp from Steve’s tongue.

Jason doesn't seem to buy it. Little pastor-cop in training, he narrows his eyes and turns on Eddie. “Were you following him, Freak?”

Eddie's eyes flash in warning, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Steve shifts his weight to stand in front of him, and his fingers twitch around empty air. He wishes he had his nail bat with him; kind of wants to glue the handle to his palm.

Never know when monsters will come crawling out of the woods.

"Well?" Jason barks, "Answer me!"

His lackeys all pipe up then, the guy to his right sneering, "Not so talkative without his lunch table to stand on, is he?"

"Look at him shaking," adds another.

"Think he was trying to do some Satanic ritual shit while no one was looking?"

"I don't know," says the guy on Jason's left. "Looked like they were sucking each other off to me. Hey, maybe Harrington’s turned fag.”

“Andy!” Jason warns, and Steve—

Steve staggers forward with three arrows in his chest. One for every letter of that stupid fucking word that's been haunting him for years; raging fire in a black box in the far reaches of his brain, belching thick, black smoke, singing his fingertips whenever he gets close enough to touch it.

He wonders if Andy can taste the sulfur in it, too.

“No, go on,” he seethes, voice deadly calm when he lays a hand on Andy’s chest. Steeple his fingers, tips his chin. “Say it again; don't think I heard you right.”

Andy swallows hard, grinds his teeth; tenses to square off for the fight, but Jason throws an arm in front of him. "Easy," he says.

Easy. Down boy.

Andy snarls and backs off.

Jason lowers his voice, searching Steve's face. "You sure you're good? Can't be too careful with..."

His gaze slides over Steve's shoulder, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Steve's never wanted to risk a concussion more. "I'm fine," he grits out, balking at the diplomatic bullshit that's about to slither from his mouth. "Really. Thanks, though, man; appreciate you looking out for me."

Jason gives him a serious nod. "Any time."

—

“So, uh…” Eddie squints at Steve once Jason and his goons run along. His arms are hugged tight around his middle, and he's biting his lip; nervous jiggle of his leg. “How, um— How are we playing this, exactly?”

Steve scrubs at his face; swoons where he stands. Feels like all the blood's drained out of him without the adrenaline to prop him up. Goddamn, he's still so drunk. “Playing what?” he asks, confused.

Whatever it is, it’s already been played, hasn’t it?

Fight’s over; Steve’s exhausted. He just wants to go home.

But then Eddie shakes his head and tuts softly at the ground, his expression gone sour and sad, and there it is again. That feeling that Steve’s fucking everything up somehow.

He’s so tired of that feeling.

Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out a hand. Skims Eddie's side; leather jacket, bony hip, and then he hooks his pinky finger into the belt loop of his jeans. Tugs, just a little. Not hard enough to topple him, just—

Enough.

He hopes.

—

part 27

tag lists in separate reblogs with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content, comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

[havecourage-darling]

Employee of the Month // Eddie Munson

Prompt: enemies-to-lovers, “the employee of the month gets a free dinner to a fancy restaurant and you both fight to win it until it goes too far and oh shit, I think I love you but everything is falling apart.”

wc: 24K (don't even ask)

tags: miscommunication, cursing, misunderstandings, idiots in love being idiots in love, female reader

Masterlist

YOU groaned the second you walked into the store and heard the sounds of Nightmare on Elm Street playing on the television. “Isn’t it my turn to pick the movie?” You asked, walking past the counter and into the back. Precariously balancing your coffee and breakfast sandwich on the ledge of the lockers, you started pulling your jacket off.

“Well, if you arrived on time, your Grace, you’d have been able to,” Eddie’s grating voice filtered in through the swinging door.

Gritting your teeth, you closed your eyes and counted to ten. It’s illegal to murder. You’d go to jail. Your mother would cry if you went to trial. His body would be too heavy to drag into a ditch. The blood would stain your favorite shoes. Dustin would never forgive you. You hadn’t helped stitch his body back together only to turn around and kill him now.

“I am on time, shithead, you’re just always early,” you hissed.

“It’s been literal seconds and you two are already fighting?” Robin groaned from where she had her face buried into her elbow at the counter. You shrugged on your vest, put your backpack into the locker and slammed it shut.

“He started it,” you said defensively.

Eddie turned, hair flipping like he was some goddamn heroine in a movie, and shot you an incredulous look. “Did you not just come in, metaphorical guns blazing?”

“It’s my turn to pick the movie!” You insisted. And it was. You always picked the movie on Mondays. Always.

His brows furrowed, as if confused by your genuine anger. “Then pick the movie! The TV has an eject button or did you need me to help you learn how to use it?”

A small ember lit in your chest like it always did when you were around his infuriating presence. “Need I remind you that I’ve worked here longer than you have, Munson?” You huffed, grabbing an armful of the returns without looking and walking around the store. “Some of us graduated the first time around.”

Eddie snorted, the barb falling short. “You’ll need to find a new insult, Lightning.”

The condescending tone rung throughout the air. “Do not call me that,” you hissed, whipping your head around to glare at him.

He held up his hands and didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “I didn’t give you the nickname Superstar.”

You hated it when he called you that. It always sounded so patronizing. “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” You grumbled, making sure to clip his shoulder with your own as you passed him.

“On a daily basis,” he retorted, whirling his arms in the air to keep his balance.

Steve sighed as he walked in and saw you both glaring at each other. “It’s been less than an hour, how are you both already arguing?”

“He started it,” you grumbled again, turning around and started to shelve the returns.

“He started it,” Eddie mimicked, yelping when Robin smacked him. You started in the far back left-hand corner and did what you always did when you were on shift with Eddie – you ignored him.

A half hour into shelving, and only midway through your coffee, you heard Steve groan loudly. Robin’s head popped out from the aisle behind you and she sighed. “Keith incoming,” she alerted you all, everyone rolling their eyes. “Oh shit, he’s coming with a suit.”

“What?” You asked, hurrying around the corner to join her. Catching sight of the senior supervisor, one of the execs in suits who show up once a few months – if that – you frowned. “You think we’re being shut down?”

“I hope not, this place is a shithole but it’s a paycheck,” Eddie grumbled, starting up the computer and pretending to look busy.

“Good morning, everyone,” Keith said, uncharacteristically polite as the entrance door swung open.

Hiding a laugh behind a cough, Robin and you nodded. Keith looked like a small child who’d gotten dressed in his parent’s working clothes.

“We’ll be in my office,” Keith said through his teeth, shooting you all a look as the suit disappeared through the door.

Robin turned to you instantly. “Oh shit, do you think we’re actually getting closed down?”

“Honestly, at this point, that job down at the grocery store is looking more appealing,” you sighed.

Steve, on the other hand, sputtered. “I don’t! This might be a shit job but I still need the money,” he huffed. “Driving you people around is expensive.”

Robin rolled her eyes and you shot him a look. “I drive the other half of your kids, so don’t even look at me.”

“They’re not my kids!”

“Well, they became mine through you so, what’s that say?” You asked, joining him behind the counter.

“That you and Robin wouldn’t leave well enough alone at the mall,” Steve huffed.

Robin whipped her head around. “If it wasn’t for us, you and Henderson wouldn’t have cracked the code!”

“I took a punch for you,” you said, elbowing him.

Steve shook his head but you saw the smile building. Much like Robin’s entrance into the party, you’d been hired at Scoops Ahoy when Starcourt opened as a part-time employee. Also, like Robin, you’d been hesitant to trust the self-proclaimed reformed Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. You’d known Robin, your next-door neighbor, for years. Despite the suspicion, you’d become pretty close friends. There was something about surviving a near apocalypse that bonded you all together. Especially considering his band of kids had welcomed you in with open arms.

“Demobats ate chunks of my skin off, you aren’t special,” said Eddie, tone – once again – grating on your skull.

Grinding your teeth, you ignored Steve’s pointed look and did what you did second best – shot him a withering glare and pretended he didn’t exist.

Unfortunately, your newfound friendships had led you back to Eddie Munson a few months ago. Despite fighting off those demented demobats with him in the Upside Down, and the way your heart had dropped to your feet when you fought to save his life, your distrust for him had only deepened.

“You both have to get over it eventually,” Steve grumbled under his breath. You reached out, quickly, and pinched his bicep. He yelped, brown eyes widening pitifully, and you glared at him.

Eddie and you hadn’t always had this…animosity. Steve had managed to break you down eventually, pulling the reason why from you after a summer party when you’d gotten plastered.

You had never thought of yourself as a spiteful person, but some things weren’t easy to get over. And what Eddie Munson had done to you was one of them. The worst part, was him acting like it had been your fault. That dumb, big-eyed, stupid son of a –

“Nice to see you all,” the suit said, coming out Keith’s office suddenly. You all mumbled incoherently, straightening when Keith glared, and watched as they walked out.

Not five minutes later, Keith sauntered back in with a smug look on his face. “Apparently, we’re the best performing Family Video in all of North Indiana.”

“Cool,” Eddie said, the nerd actually looked interested. You’d already known the store was doing better – considering Family Video was the only video store around for miles after the earthquake. The three of you had struggled enough to warrant bringing Munson into the mix.

“What does that mean?” Robin asked, always voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

Keith snorted. “That means, ducklings, we get to reap some perks.”

“Perks?” Steve asked, eyes brightening. Keith ignored him and turned to the rest of you.

“For starters, the suits are instating a best employee of the month,” he said, “excluding me of course because it wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

You coughed, putting a hand up to your chest to really sell it, and attempted to hide your laughter within the sound.

“And what do we get if we win?” Eddie asked.

Would Family Video shell anything out? You wondered. They barely managed to replace your vest for free after you’d shredded it to shit from your adventures during spring break.

Keith leaned in, failing spectacularly at building tension, and smiled. You only just barely refrained from flinching back at the sight. “Get this, the first employee of the month gets a free dinner to Osteria da Fortuna. I get a free dinner obviously, because I’m the senior manager…”

His voice trailed off in your mind, your eyes widening and back straightened. Osteria? The fancy ass Italian restaurant downtown? Holy shit, you’d been dying to go there ever since Heather went with her boyfriend and told you about the desserts. She’d said it was the best tiramisu she’d ever tasted in her life.

By the time you’d snapped out of your daydream buffet, Keith had gone into his office again.

“Oh my God, I need that dinner. It’s the only thing that’ll help recover this month – shit, this year,” you said to Robin, her eyes softening. She’d been well aware of how shitty your life had been of late. “I’ve always wanted to go there!”

“Uh, everyone wants to go there, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his voice patronizing, “it’s the best restaurant for miles.”

You glared at him but he did what he did best, continue to annoy you.

“Besides, we’ve all had a shitty year.” He flipped his stupid hair again and you clenched your hands. Why did he always have to twist your words around? You hadn’t meant that yours had been worse than anyone else’s. You were well aware of how shit of a spring break ’86 had been for a lot of you.

“How no one has ever choked you is a mystery to me,” you said, matter of fact. A brief image of your hands around his neck made you smirk.

Eddie turned to glance at you over his shoulder. “I won’t say no if you’re offering Princess,” he winked.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage. Ignoring his jab, and the sudden rage in your chest, you walked into the breakroom to grab your cold breakfast sandwich. Heating it up in the tiny microwave you grabbed your bottle of water before stalking out again.

Keith leaned against the counter, reprimanding Steve about something, and his nose twitched. Eyes drawing towards you, they narrowed and you felt nervous. Shit. Keith had never cared when you ate and worked but you definitely didn’t want to piss him off as you started the race towards that dinner.

“Holy shit I haven’t eaten since last night I’m starving,” Keith said instead of admonishing you.

The idea popped in your head and before you could think twice, you offered Keith the wrapped breakfast sandwich. “Do you want it? I’m not that hungry,” you said, begging your growling stomach to stay quiet for a while.

You saw the appreciative glint in Keith’s eyes when he took his first bite – and by the scowl on Eddie’s face, he had too.

“Thanks Lightning, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, “you always were my favorite. I’ll be back later losers.”

With a flurry, Keith was out the door and the only noise for a few moments was Freddy Kreuger killing Glen. Then, your stomach roared to life.

“Not hungry?” Eddie echoed flatly.

Robin, however, stepped in before you could start another fight. “Well played you, well played,” she said, offering you a high five.

“If I give you my entire paycheck, will you take me with you when you win?” Steve asked, eyes pleading. It didn’t take a genius to know there was no way Keith was choosing Steve.

“As if,” Robin snorted, “she’s taking me.”

You watched them bicker amicably, laughing when Steve gaped at Robin after a low blow and barely registered Eddie next to you.

“I’m gonna win the dinner,” he said, nonchalantly.

Eyes darting up to his, ignoring his cologne wafting over to you, you glared at him. “Whatever, Munson.” Jesus, is that all you could come up with? What the fuck was in that cologne?

Eddie, however, just smiled. “Let the games begin.”

Where the hell was everyone? You mused, walking into an open, but empty, store. Considering the schedule posted yesterday – Eddie, Robin, and you were set to open today.

Spinning your keys on your finger, you walked back into the locker room and tossed your stuff inside. Pulling your vest out, you shrugged it on and went to fill up your water. Once you were by the cooler you realized the back door was propped open.

What the?

You quietly stepped forward, eyes darting around looking for who was out there when you heard Keith’s voice.

“Dude, are you sure?” Keith asked, voice tinged with excitement.

Eddie’s soft voice filtered in through the crack. “Absolutely. I had extras and you know we’re cool right? I thought – why not ask Keith if he wants to take them off my hands.” Narrowing your eyes, you crossed your arms. You knew that tone – that was Eddie’s ‘I’m a bad liar but no one can tell,’ tone.

Keith stepped into view and you watched him take the Ziploc bag from Eddie’s hand. You bit your cheek to keep from cursing.

Joints.

Of course Eddie was going to start sucking up too. Because there’s no way he couldn’t let you have this – why would he? He’s been a pain in your ass from the start. What the hell could you give Keith that one upped free weed? Fuck, you needed to get creative.

There was no way in hell you were letting Munson win this fucking dinner. At this point, it was a matter of pride.

Scrambling to the front of the store, you started your morning to-do list with fervor. Robin stumbled in, looking still half asleep, she motioned to the back and you barely nodded in her direction.

A few minutes later, Eddie sauntered out. Grinding your teeth, you shifted your shoulders away from him so you didn’t have to look at him directly.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop you know,” Eddie said eventually, hopping onto the counter to your left.

You felt a flash of embarrassment at being caught but you carefully stomped it down. Without flinching, or hesitation, you lifted your eyes to his and quirked your brow. Leaning in slowly, you watched his eyes widen and his mouth part. You waited a moment to speak, eyes drawn to the way you were sure his brown ones had flashed down to your own mouth. Just a little closer, the tiny – stupidly intrusive - voice in your head echoed.

Blinking away the thought, you smirked. “It’s illegal to sell drugs, you know,” you said. Eddie gaped at you, clearly not expecting that, and huffed a moment too late.

Swiveling in your chair you turned to the computer, indicating that you were done speaking and you’d taken it as a win.

Not one to ever let you have the last word, “It wasn’t a sale, it was a gift,” he said.

You hummed, just as petty. “I’m sure Hopper would love to hear that explanation,” you said agreeably. Everyone knew that after El and Joyce, you were Hopper’s favorite.

Eddie grumbled and slinked off towards the returns. Internally pumping your fist, your win was quickly extinguished when Keith came out. “Alright I’m off until tomorrow. Don’t forget to tell Harrington to make sure the box is shut this time,” Keith said, with a weird grin on his face, and turned to Eddie. “Thanks again man, I really appreciate it.” He winked and you had to practically bite a crater into your bottom lip to keep from gagging.

“No worries,” Eddie said, smug expression radiating from the back. You could hear his stupid unsaid words. Your turn, Lightning.

You scowled. God, even imaginary him was unbearable.

“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself as you opened up the store. “Where the hell is everyone?”

This time, the entire store was dark. You went around quickly flipping the lights on and checked the time. I’m on time, you thought, checking the backrooms. Your morning shift was scheduled as it usually was, an hour after opening, but Eddie was nowhere to be found.

Shit – that never happened. Eddie was always on time.

For a brief second, you wondered if something had happened to him. Anxious fingers already reaching for the phone, you realized you didn’t know his number. Keith would have it, right? Were you ever allowed to look at employee records? Where the hell did Keith keep employee information anyway? Spiraling, you glanced around you one more time like you’d accidentally missed him in the store.

Calm down, you told yourself, Eddie was probably just lazing around like he usually did.

He’s never been late to work, your mind reminded you, especially not your Tuesday morning shifts. Tuesdays were Steve’s day off – Robin always joined you after school at 4PM and helped you close. The both of you would bicker the entire morning about his movie pick, argue about who was shelving returns faster, and usually eventually draw a tentative truce with the shitty coffee from the kitchen.

Despite your vow to never say it out loud – you knew Eddie took work seriously. He was a massive asshole but he was weirdly earnest about this stupid video store. Yanking the phone to your ear, you dialed a number you did know quickly.

“Hello?” A groggy voice answered.

Without preamble, and with a pitch high enough to rival Robin’s, your words stumbled out your mouth. “Steve, I need you to call Eddie. It’s ten thirty and I just came in and had to open the store and he’s always here on time Steve. Always. It’s the most annoying fucking thing on the planet how punctual he is. Something had to have happened on the road or like, I don’t know but-”

“-wait, wait, I just woke up, what are you talking about?”

Annoyance surged through you. “Eddie didn’t show up for his shift!” You hissed into the phone.

“Shit, really?” Steve asked a little shocked despite the sleep clinging to his voice.

“Yes, really! I had to open the store when I showed up a few minutes ago.”

Steve suddenly went quiet. “Fuuuuck,” he said, now sounding completely awake, “is today Tuesday?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck, I totally forgot,” Steve groaned, “Munson asked me to cover his shift.”

You chose to actively ignore the relief that bloomed in your chest. “Jesus Christ Steve,” you sighed, the worry draining out of you and making you feel lightheaded.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry! I can be there in like five minutes-” a loud crashing sound made you wince and lean away from the receiver. “Ouch,” Steve groaned pathetically.

Biting back your laughter you shook your head. Steve Harrington was undoubtedly, not a morning person. “Hey, it’s fine. Tuesday mornings aren’t exactly rush hour over here. Take the morning off, I’ll be fine until the afternoon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Harrington, I’m sure. I owe you one anyway,” you rubbed a hand down your face, suddenly exhausted.

“Thanks dude, I’ll be down in a few hours, I’ll bring you coffee,” Steve said gratefully.

“From the good place!”

Steve laughed but promised to bring you the largest cup of coffee they had.

The morning, predictably, was slow. You spent the first half of it shelving returns and the second half of it assisting the odd customer that made their way by. Right as the latest man walked out the door, you caught sight of Keith leaning against his car. Groaning, you straightened and tried to look like you weren’t bored out of your mind.

Right as he started towards the store, you watched him chuck the butt of a joint towards the side. Keith had a dumb smile on his face and yesterday’s interaction slammed into you. Scowling, you smacked the enter button on the keyboard a bit too hard.

“Morning,” Keith drawled, the scent of weed wafting over to you. Grinding your molars, you could practically see the dinner slipping from your fingers.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying and failing to sound upbeat.

“Where’s Munson? I need to thank him again for – a favor he did me,” Keith ended lamely.

You opened your mouth to let him know what had happened but you hesitated. Shit. As of last year, the suits had established a new rule about swapping shifts. They all needed the manager’s approval. If Keith was here asking for Eddie, he hadn’t approved the swap. Steve was on thin ice considering the rule was put in place because of him.

An idea sprouted in the back of your mind and you chewed on your bottom lip. Was it too far? Eddie’s smug expression taunted you for a moment before you shook your head.

“I don’t know actually, he hasn’t called and wasn’t here when I came in,” you said, making an exaggerated notion of checking your watch. Gasping a little dramatically, you put a hand up to your chest. “Oh wow, I hadn’t even realized he’s two hours late! I’ve just been so busy here with customers,” you added, smiling dutifully and completely ignoring the empty store.

A small frown formed on Keith’s face but he shot you an appraising look before nodding. “Good job, thanks for keeping us in shipshape. You’ve always been reliable.”

Shipshape? You cringed at his wide, and weirdly sincere looking smile, before offering a weak one yourself. “Yes sir.”

Yes sir? Jesus you were laying it on thick.

Keith preened at the term and sauntered out the store without another word.

You really should’ve known better than to assume Eddie wasn’t going to try and get back at you.

“Are you fucking kidding me Munson?” You screamed, kicking the front door open so hard that the frame rattled.

Eddie stood behind the counter, eyes glinting, and you could practically feel his skin underneath your hands as you smothered him with a plastic bag. Smug fucker.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you forget to see the change in schedule?” He asked with his stupid smirk on his face. Seeing red, you had a brief moment where you considered launching forward to actually kill him.

Picking a happy medium, you picked up a nearby box of Twizzlers, you launched it at his head and he ducked, shooting you an incredulous look. “I just got yelled at for thirty minutes by Keith,” you said, launching another box of candy. “I didn’t give you a fake schedule making you miss your shift, Eddie. You’re the one who swapped without telling anyone.”

“I told Steve! Who told you!” Eddie argued, eyes flashing.

Putting your hands on your hips you shot him a glare. “Yeah, which is still not allowed!”

“Oh,” Eddie said, his tone dripping with incredulity. He huffed and stomped over to you. “Get off your pedestal, Lightning, don’t act like you give a shit about store rules.”

Stepping closer, you felt your arms brush as you poked his shoulder. “I’m not saying I do, but what did you want me to do? Get you both in trouble?”

“Not lie would be a good start!” Eddie shouted, poking back at you. God, he was infuriating. And why the hell did he always smell so good? “You saw an opportunity and you went for it! I was just evening out the playing field.”

You laughed incredulously. The audacity of this idiot. “Right, and you giving him your weed was what? You being kind?”

Sputtering for a second, you crossed your arms to avoid the visceral instinct to smack him.

“Whatever, the point is we’re even now!”

Even? How the hell were you even? “Munson if you think we’re even, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”

At that, he raised his brow. His eyes darted over your face, a ghost of a smile twitching on his lips. “Yeah? Alright then Superstar, you want a war?”

“Bring it on,” you hissed, stomping off into the backroom.

Flipping the sign on the door around to closed, you sighed in relief when the last customer drove off.

“I’m going to go change!” Robin called out, disappearing into the backroom. Steve already had his Westley costume on, black mask and all.

With a twirl and outstretched arms, he asked you what you thought. “You look great Steve,” you said with a smile. “Is Robin Buttercup?”

Steve snorted. “No, that really wouldn’t help the dating rumors. She’s wearing something with Vickie I think,” he said. “Nina is going in the red outfit.”

A soft knock to the front door had you both scowling and you walked up to the glass intending to wave away whoever it was. “Oh, it’s Nance!” You called out. She beamed at you as you opened the door and handed you a small bag. “Ugh, thank you. You’re a life saver!”

“Of course!” She grinned, her Grease costume looking great. “Jonathan’s in the car.”

You waved towards his car and smiled when he waved back. “What are you supposed to be?” Eddie’s voice behind you practically echoed. Steve started his explanation and you rolled your eyes when you saw that he was dressed like Tommy Lee. Predictable.

“So, how’s that going?” Nancy whispered, nodding towards Eddie.

“It’s fine,” you said, avoiding her eyes and shifting your weight to your other foot.

Nancy’s eyes narrowed at him, her loyalty coming off her in waves. “It’s okay, really,” you assured her, “we have an unspoken pact not to bring it up. It makes everything easier. Besides, we all basically went to war against Vecna together.”

“Yeah,” she said, hand going up to play with her hair, “have you…told anyone else about what happened?”

Glancing back at Eddie, your eyes darted down to the bag in your hands and you shook your head. “Only Steve.”

“Why-”

“It’s mortifying, Nance. He’s made how he feels about me abundantly clear,” you said, gritting your teeth and trying to ignore the old hurt that bloomed in your chest. “I’m going to go change before we’re late, okay?”

Slipping past everyone, you found Robin messing with her hair.

“Vickie isn’t going to know what hit her,” you said, smiling when her anxious hands stilled.

“Really? I don’t look stupid?”

“Definitely not,” you assured her. “Help me into this?”

Robin grinned as you quickly changed. The one piece was easy enough to slip into. “You’re going to blow Blake’s socks off,” she said, helping you tie the back of your costume as you pulled the wrist pieces into place.

You shivered a little as you pulled the pantyhose up higher, the cool air quickly causing you to break out into goosebumps. “Remind me why we chose this again?” You asked, already shivering a little. You’d all been invited to Halloween Party by a mutual friend of yours – costumes required. It’d been a stroke of good luck that you had all been scheduled for today’s closing shift. You were actually pretty sure that Keith was still locked in his office after his impromptu visit this afternoon.

“Because Jenna’s house is going to be really hot and you said you’d rather be cold than sweating,” she reminded you, “besides, Blake said he was dressing up as Batman, right?”

You nodded, wiggling into your red boots and wincing when the zipper caught your skin.

“Maybe you’ll win the costume contest,” Robin waggled her brows and you knew she was thinking of the bottle of tequila Jenna had promised to the winners.

Blake, one of your neighbors, had asked if you had any plans for Halloween last week. He was quiet, sweet, and had eyes so blue they almost looked violet. So, you’d taken the chance and invited him along to the party. Checking the time, you winced. “Shit, he’s going to be here soon,” you pulled at the bust one more time before turning around to face Robin. “How do I look?”

Robin’s eyes widened. “Whoa, holy boobies,” she said, hand going up to your chest. You swatted her hand away and rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to assume that’s a good thing,” you laughed when she grinned mischievously. “What?”

“Oh, this night will be fun,” she said, adjusting her cape motioning towards the front door. “Please, Princess Diana of Themyscira, you first.”

Grabbing your hoodie and bag, you made sure to double check that the back doors were locked and shut off the lights. You had barely stepped out when you heard a choking sound. Glancing up, you saw everyone’s eyes on you. Feeling a little self-conscious under the attention, you froze.

“I told you,” Robin said quietly and you barely resisted the urge to turn and swat at her. Your eyes, of their own traitorous volition, shifted to Eddie. His eyes were wide, a little awed, and were trailing down your body. You couldn’t help but smirk when you realized he was checking you out.

“Holy shit, you look great,” Steve said, drawing your attention away from Eddie’s expression, his eyes on the rope you’d attached to the belt, “I’m glad the belt worked out!”

“Thanks,” you said, remembering how Steve had helped you spray paint it gold, “I owe you one.”

Everyone talked amongst themselves, double checking that they had everything before leaving. Feeling someone’s eyes on you again, you glanced up to see Eddie standing a few feet from you. “You look good,” Eddie said, his voice soft, “the costume looks just like her.”

Fighting the pleased, slightly giddy, smile that wanted to break out into your face at his compliment, you shot him a small smile instead. “Thanks, Steve and Robin helped me pick it out,” you said, eyes darting down to his chest and only now realizing that he was shirtless underneath his vest. Suddenly, you felt your mouth dry up and you crossed your arms to keep from coughing. “Uh, your costume is pretty good too.”

“Thanks,” he said, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck, “Dustin and Steve helped me paint on his tattoos.”

You couldn’t help it, your eyes glanced down at the new tattoo across his stomach. “Did Tommy Lee have a demon tattooed onto his chest?” You asked, leaning forward to get a better look. “It looks really well drawn.”

“That’s uh,” you watched, transfixed, as his Adam’s apple bobbed the closer you got, “my real tattoo actually.” His eyes caught yours and the both of you froze, having gotten much closer than you realized. For a brief, insignificant moment, you couldn’t help but think how much nicer brown was than blue.

“What the hell is going on?” Keith’s voice silenced the rest of your group.

Stepping forward, you automatically went on damage control before Steve or Robin sputtered out something that got you all more in trouble. “We’re just leaving, Keith,” you assured him, “I double checked the back and made sure everything was locked and cleaned.”

You continued to prattle on about your closing checklist, including a few admin tasks that needed his sign off on that you’d left on his desk for next week. Glancing up at him, hoping you’d saved your asses from a reprimand, you realized Keith wasn’t listening. His eyes were south of your face and you barely resisted the urge to gag on sight.

You need this job. You all need this job. Don’t break his nose, don’t do it. If you punch him, you’ll all but hand Eddie that free dinner. You’d probably break your hand. Hopper might be called. Inhale. Exhale.

Fucking pervert, your mind screamed one last time before you buried the thought and your discomfort. Using his distraction to your advantage, you crossed your arms and motioned to the front lights. “Are you okay to close the front on your own?”

At Robin’s cough, he sputtered back to life. A splotchy, disgusting, blush rose on his face and you fought the need to snap. “Of course,” Keith answered eventually, his leering grin making you immediately uncomfortable. “You always think of everything, good job. I’ll take a look at those forms on Tuesday.”

Nodding, you took a few steps back before being stopped by Keith’s voice. “You look good, by the way.”

Spine stiffening, you forced your customer service smile onto your face before nodding. “Thanks, have a good night?” Your voice sounds so fake you knew your friends could feel it radiate off of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, gawking at you one last time before disappearing back into his office.

You spun around, ready to smile triumphantly at your friends for avoiding the lecture, when you’re thrown off by Eddie’s sour expression. What the hell crawled up his ass?

“God, I feel like I need a shower,” Nancy said, gagging. Robin and Steve shot you grateful looks, knowing that you’d taken one for the team.

The sound of the front door opening again caught everyone’s attention, your eyes all turning towards a sheepish Jonathan. “Sorry, just wanted to let you know Blake just pulled up.”

You rushed forward, looking out into the parking lot and seeing the familiar red car parked by the front doors. Smiling, you ran a nervous hand down your hair before turning to your friends.

“Meet you guys there? I think Blake wants to stop by for some burgers first,” you said, not able to keep the excitement out of your voice.  

Robin rolled her eyes and pushed you towards the doors. “Yes, we’ll be fine. We’ll see you at the party, go say hi to your date, I’m sure his eyes will fall out his head when he sees you. Just like Keith’s did.” You shot her a glare and she laughed like the bully she was.

“Low blow Buckley, low blow.” You pulled the hoodie on and shot everyone one last wave before pushing the front door open.

Seeing you, Blake stumbled out his car. He was dressed as Batman, with a beaming smile, and you waved excitedly. You ran out to meet him but before you got too far, you heard Eddie grumble: “Who the hell is Blake?”

“Good morning,” Eddie said as he walked in, the bell above the door slamming against your skull. God, why the hell had you listened to Steve about the tequila last night.

Robin groaned next to you, her body slumped over and her hands on her head. “Please stop screaming.”

You caught a flash of amusement on Eddie’s face before he disappeared through the back. “This is your fault,” you mumbled to Robin, who grunted.

“Keith said that we were scheduled to have a half-day! How was I supposed to know that his idea of opening the store late the day after Halloween was going to be only two hours later?” Robin said, her skin turning green, her eyes closing as she gulped audibly.

Hands coming out to smack against her, you pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. “Don’t, please, if I hear you then I’ll start,” you said. Robin sped off towards the employee bathroom and you dropped your head back into your arms.

“Someone clearly enjoyed the party,” Eddie’s voice echoed in the quiet front room. Wincing, you turned to him and glared. He wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to sound so smug about it.

Eddie raised his brows, as if reading your thoughts, and you huffed. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you today,” you informed him, willing the two Tylenol you’d taken earlier to start working.

“That’s a first,” Eddie muttered, puttering around the store. “So, you seemed to have fun with Blake.”

The tone of disdain in his voice made you blink at him. From your, admittedly patchy memory – Blake had managed to get along with everyone. He was like the human version of a puppy; he made friends with everyone wherever he went.

You opened your mouth to defend him when a loud voice greeted you both. Fighting the urge to grab at your head, you pulled energy from deep – deep – within your reserves and smiled up at Keith. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck and two different colored gloves on. “Good morning, Keith,” you greeted warily. He never came in on holidays or the day after, having a Keith sighting twice this week was never good.

“I’m just passing by,” he said, eyes trailing down your body. Confused, you looked down at yourself to make sure you hadn’t accidentally tossed your cookies and hadn’t noticed. Your usual t-shirt and jeans looked in place and you only glanced back up with you heard Eddie scoff. Maybe he was just being normal gross Keith?

Keith reappeared, keys and a folder in his hand, walking back out towards the door. He stopped, eyeing the two of you before his gaze landed on you. Straightening reflexively, your spine cracked as you did. “Your costume yesterday…was really good. It helped – uh, give the store some seasonal cheer.”

Seasonal cheer? You thought, confused. Wasn’t that usually Christmas? Eddie seemed to be thinking the same as you were because his brows dipped.

The poignant silence seemed to echo and Keith cleared his throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you’re doing good work and…keep it up.” With another gross smile, he disappeared. Ugh, ew, you groaned.

“What the fuck?” You muttered, encounter already being pushed away by your pounding headache. Another scoff caught your attention and your eyes drew towards the source.

Eddie’s face was turned towards the horror section, his brows furrowed and expression pinched. “Do you have something you’d like to say out loud?” You snipped, not at all in the mood for his emotional whiplash.

“If I had something to say, sweetheart, I’d say it,” Eddie snapped back.

Surprised, you blinked. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Whatever,” you said, the pounding in your head getting worse.

The entire morning went along the same way, Robin dashing to the bathroom, and you barely holding it together up front with Eddie. While you were used to sparring with him, and would admittedly normally find it comforting, this was more than his usual annoyance. He seemed…genuinely angry at you and you couldn’t understand why. To be perfectly honest, the constant nausea from the moment you’d opened your eyes wasn’t really letting you care much about the why as long as he long as he left you alone for two fucking seconds.

Whatever it was, you were tired of it. “I’m taking my break,” you announced, needing space and maybe a coffee now that your stomach had started to settle.

“Uh, no you’re not,” Eddie said, stopping you from moving to the backroom for your wallet. “My break is scheduled before yours.”

How many times had you all taken a break whenever you wanted? Was he really going to be a stickler for this now? “Dude, are you serious right now?” You asked, about two seconds from whining and stomping your foot like a toddler. Holy shit, all you wanted was peace and quiet and a coffee the size of your head.

“Yeah,” Eddie grumbled, crossing his arms, “remember that time it was my break and I was about to pass out from my hangover but you just left the store-”

This again? You fumed. “I didn’t know you were hungover!” You defended yourself for the millionth time. “If you would’ve asked for help like a normal person instead of sulking, I would’ve gotten you something! Or I would’ve let you go first!”

Robin’s head popped out, eyes squinting, and a frown on her face. “Are you guys serious?”

“Ask him!” You threw your hand out towards him. “He’s the one being an asshole today, I don’t know what the hell I did!”

“Isn’t it obvious? Clearly, you’re taking the cheap shots with your fucking costume with Keith. If his eyes had gone any wider than they would’ve popped out his head,” Eddie fumed.

What? “Are you trying to say that it’s my fault Keith is a pervert?”

“No! I’m saying you’re using it to your advantage!” His words hit like a physical blow.

Robin stepped out, hands out to both of you, eyes sharp in his direction. “Dude, too far.”

Feeling like you’d been punched, and more than mildly wounded at the fact that Eddie clearly thought you were willing to lower yourself so that Keith of all people would notice, you blinked at him. In the silence, and to your utter dismay, Eddie seemed to notice that he’d actually hurt you. The apology in his eyes made you dart yours to the floor.

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t,” you said quickly. The last thing you wanted was an apology, especially from Munson. “I stopped expecting apologies from you a long time ago,” you said, not able to keep the hurt and barb out of your tone.

Eddie cleared his throat. “What the hell does that mean?”

Of course. “Right,” you snorted, hating that you’d peeled at your own scab. What the hell did you need to go through to learn your lesson with him? “I’ll be out back. You’re right, it’s your scheduled break and you can go first.”

“But-”

You made sure the door slammed as you stepped out and fought the pressure you felt behind your eyes.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, you reminded yourself. After grabbing a few tentative swings of your water, you splashed some onto your face and nodded at your reflection. You weren’t going to let Eddie get one over on you again.

When you came out a few minutes later, he was gone and Robin had an inquisitive stare.

“It’s nothing,” you said, not even believing yourself.

“Sure.”

The next time you were on shift with Eddie left you wondering if an alien had inhabited his body and was parading around as him.

“It’s weird, right? That he’s being this polite?” You asked Steve as you both got ready to leave after the morning shift. After your pseudo-fight with Eddie two days ago, he’d been stiffly polite and you didn’t know what to do with that.

Steve rolled his eyes and shot you a knowing look. “What? Do you miss the sexual tension you had during your fights?”

Sputtering, you reached out to smack him and he dodged your hands. “I’m joking!”

“I’ll choke you,” you told him.

Steve winked at you and you huffed, hurrying out towards the back exit like you did after every Thursday afternoon. Instead of your usual sight, you froze when you saw Eddie standing by the dumpster with a cigarette.

“Uh,” you said, taken aback. You thought he’d left the second it hit three considering how quickly he darted out.

“Hey?” Eddie said, making it sound like a question.

With an awkward wave, you cleared your throat and said, “Hey.”

Checking your watch, you realized you still had a few minutes but now you didn’t know what to do. Eddie, clearly feeling the tension, broke the silence. “I’m just, smoking…as the car heats up,” he motioned to his van that he kept parked out back in the employee lot. He’d gotten special permission because the van didn’t fit in the regular parking lot.

“Right,” you said, rubbing your hands together for warmth. You pulled your beanie tighter against your head and chewed on your bottom lip.

“What, uh, why do you always come out here after your shifts Thursday?”

Not able to help your smile, you saw his eyes light up with interest. Before you could answer, you heard the telltale sign of a gate being opened. With your hand, you motioned for him to follow you as you rounded the corner to the building.

As always, there was a big, furry, dopey, smile waiting for you. From this angle, you could see his golden tail wagging happily at the sight of you.

“Thought he was gonna cry when he didn’t see you,” Maggie, the owner of the bookstore and the adorable golden retriever who was currently jumping in excitement at the sight of you.

Reaching over the fence, you scratched at his ears and chin. “Hey Fitz, who’s a good boy?” Fitz leaned his big head into your palms and you looked over your shoulder at Eddie. The sight of his wide smile smacked into your chest so intensely you felt off balance. Gripping the fence, you waved for him to come over.

Fitz, sensing another potential hand for head scratches, let his tongue loll out and tilted his head in a desperate attempt to look cuter. Your heart melted at the sight and Eddie’s soft murmurs didn’t help. After a few minutes, and a lot of attention, Fitz jumped off the fence and you waved to Maggie before pulling Eddie back towards Family Video.

“The shift change today always coincides with Mags letting Fitz out for a bathroom break. It’s nice, to see them before I leave,” you shrugged, “Fitz is always happy to see me.”

“Yeah, dogs are great,” he said, “especially big ones with dopey smiles.”

You thought of Maggie’s other dog, her shy little elderly chihuahua and you grinned. “The small ones are cute too.”

“It’s definitely a blanket understanding that dogs are all great,” Eddie said, smiling.

Wait a fucking second, were you getting along with Eddie Munson? As if realizing the same thing, Eddie’s hand came up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Uh, I’m gonna go-”

“-yeah, me too, uh, bye,” you said, not letting him finish and darting back inside.

Still a little dazed by the weird, almost normal, conversation – you didn’t realize Steve is practically drooling until Robin turned to shoot you a desperate look.

“What now?” You sighed, picking your bag up.

“One of Harrington’s crushes is here,” Robin said, “he flirted, she responded, they’re going out for coffee, and he’s acting like an idiot over, what number is she again?”

“Number three, Robin, three,” he hissed.

Scrunching your nose, you turned to slap Steve in the head. “What the hell is wrong with you, are you rating girls on a scale?”

“Ouch!” Steve hissed, turning to try and discretely check to see if the blonde had noticed. “I am not rating them on a scale, they’re numbered by how often they come in. Three is three times a week!”

Oh. “Woops, thought you were being a weirdo again.”

“I’ve had considerable growth, I’ll have you know,” he said.

Robin snorted and Steve shot her a wounded look. He then turned his big brown eyes to you. “So, remember how you usually catch a ride with me today because your dad uses your car?”

With a big, dramatic, sigh you pretended to think about it. “What you’re saying is, you’d ditch your friend for a girl? Your best friend who fought Russians and Vecna with you?”

Steve’s eyes turned down, a little sheepish, and he shook his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do that to you. Let me go tell her-”

“Oh my God,” you shoved his shoulder, “you really do love me Harrington. I’m messing with you, go have fun. I’ll catch a ride with Robin when her mom comes by. I’m literally her neighbor.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, the light flush returning to his face.

You laughed and pointed to the door. “Go on Romeo, have fun.”

“I owe you one dude, you’re the best!” He said, straightening his jacket before running a nervous hand through his hair. Robin elbowed you and you grinned as he walked out but managed to slip on a pile of wet leaves. He recovered before she noticed but both of you couldn’t help but snort along with Robin.

She turned to you and leaned onto the counter. “You sure you want to wait? I’m on until closing.”

“Yeah,” you glanced at the low sun. While you loved the fall, you definitely weren’t keen on walking home in the dark – not after what you’d seen. Robin knew – shit, you all knew – and usually was your buddy in the system Dustin rigorously implemented. “I’ll grab a late lunch at the coffee shop and be back in an hour? Want anything?”

“Can you grab me a coffee?” She asked, eyes widening as she plead.

You grinned and squeezed her elbow before pushing the door open. “Be back soon!”

The second cup of hot coffee had quickly gone lukewarm while you walked back towards Family Video two hours later. The sidewalk was littered with fallen leaves and you stepped towards a particularly crunchy pile of leaves when you heard it.

“Lightning?” The voice called out while your foot was mid-air.

“Jesus Christ,” you clutched your chest, pulling your headphones off. Eddie looked mildly amused, head leaning out his van.

“You can call me Eddie, no need to be formal,” he said. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to chuck a fistful of leaves at him.

“Do you make it a habit of driving up to girls in the dark?” You asked, gazing at him. Eddie rolled his eyes and you realized. “Also, stop calling me that.”

“I’m not the one that gave you the nickname!” He said, like he always did.

You fought the urge to leave him there, not wanting to be the first to ruin the precarious peace you had. He wasn’t wrong – but it wasn’t about the nickname per say, it was the tone he used to say it. Kicking the leaves by your foot, the memory of your high school coach floated to the surface. He was kind, intense, but a huge believer of everyone on the girls’ soccer team. He’d been offered the chance to coach the boys’ varsity team but had stuck with the girls.

He'd dubbed you Lightning as a freshman, claiming that you’d win a scholarship to college with how fast you could run the field. The moniker stuck.

Eddie shifted, eyes going over your shoulder towards the store. “Why the hell are you still hanging around here? Our shift ended two hours ago. Keith isn’t around to kiss his ass,” he said, fiddling with a cigarette.

“Pot, kettle,” you said with a snort. You motioned to the store. “Robin is on until closing. Harrington had a date and I don’t have a ride. Why the hell are you still hanging around here?”

“Was at the arcade with the kids. What about you? Your legs broken?” He asked, his stupid tone rubbing you the wrong way.

You glared at him. “My house is like an hour walk away and it’s freezing outside. I’d rather not freeze to death walking in the dark by the forest.”

“Scared?” He teased, and you could see a faint smile building.

“Yeah,” you answered honestly, eyes falling to the visible scars on Eddie’s hands. You knew what hid in the shadows in Hawkins. You weren’t risking shit.

Clearly not expecting your honesty, he blinked at you. After an awkward moment, he nodded. “Alright, hop in.”

“With you?” You said eyeing his car.

Eddie rolled his eyes at you and you saw hurt flash across his face. “I know it’s not a sports car like you’re used to but-”

You held up a hand. “I drive my dad’s old car, Munson. Steve is the one with the BMW. I wasn’t doubting your car, I was doubting your driving skills.”

The defensiveness melted off to give way for comical indignation. “How dare you?” He asked.

Weighing your options, you sighed. You were pretty hungry and hadn’t wanted to spend so much money on food in the café when you knew you had perfectly good leftover pizza at home. Besides, you’d woken up early and desperately just wanted to shower and get out of your jeans. “Alright,” you said reluctantly and Eddie snorted.

“Don’t sound too excited there Lightning,” he said.

Ignoring him, you motioned to the store. “Just let me go tell Robin.” Without waiting for a response, you jogged up to the door and empty storefront. “Hey, Munson’s giving me a ride home. See you tomorrow?”

Ignoring her wiggling brows, you waved off her teasing jabs and jogged back to his van. Pulling yourself into the passenger seat, Eddie had closed his window and blasted the heating.

“Heating takes a minute to get going, you want a blanket? I’ve got some in the back,” he asked, cheeks a little flushed.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, tucking your hands under your thighs. “Thanks.”

As he nodded, pulling away from the curb, you were struck by the scent that enveloped you. It was a mix of smoke, laundry detergent, and something woodsy. Inhaling deeply, you hated how much you seemed to chase after it.

 Shit, you thought, the scent was going to sink into your clothes and it’d drive you insane every time you wore this jacket. You vehemently tried to ignore the reasoning behind why it’d drive you up a wall. Nope, not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. You buried that part of you back into the dirt where it belonged.

Clearly uncomfortable with your sudden silence, Eddie hurried to put on music. “Sorry for the mess,” Eddie said, oddly earnest. He tossed a few wrappers into the back and you reached out to stop his fumbling.

“Seriously, it’s fine, my car looks the same. Well, not exactly the same but I’ve been there. I’m not…” you trailed off as Eddie headed towards the direction you’d pointed.

Eddie glanced at you, hands on the wheel. “You’re not?”

“I’m not that type of person,” you muttered, your fingers burning where they’d touched his, and stared at the window, “I wouldn’t make fun of your car.”

“Oh.”

The radio station announced a change in song and by the first few chords you’d already started bobbing your head along to the music. Your brother had been playing this non-stop all month and it’d grown on you.

She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

You hummed along and watched the trees flash by. Eddie cleared his throat mid-chorus and you startled. “Uh, I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, shooting him a suspicious glare. “Is this the part where you murder me and toss my body in the woods? I helped clear your name Munson. I hauled your unconscious ass through a hole in the roof of your trailer.”

Eddie, surprising you both, laughed. You blinked, unaware you were even capable of making Eddie laugh and stared at him a little disbelieving.

“No, I’m not the smartest kid in this town but even I’m not dumb enough to think I can take you on,” he said.

You grinned, feeling a little pleased at the compliment and nodded. “I’m glad you recognize my superiority.”

Snorting, Eddie shook his head and sighed. “No, I meant, about the comment I made about – about the implication that you’d dress a certain way to gain Keith’s favor.”

Completely floored at the fact that Eddie fucking Munson was actually acknowledging that he’d crossed a line and apologizing for it, you nodded dumbly. “It’s okay,” you heard yourself say faintly.

“It’s not,” he insisted, eyes a little too sincere for you as he looked over at you while at the red light. “It was uncalled for and I was annoyed you’d…gotten one over on me. It was immature and shitty and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Besides, no one wants Keith’s attention that badly. No one.”

It was quiet for a few before you broke it with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were capable of emotional maturity.”

The tension snapped when Eddie registered what you’d said with a scoff. “Ha, ha,” he said dryly.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, looking at the familiar houses as you drove past, “I appreciate it.”

Eddie nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tight. You itched to ask him something, anything, but the awkward silence had descended again.

It became suffocating the longer you sat silently but you didn’t have it in you to say anything. You thought of the tentative truce you had for the past few days, and his apology, and something soft unfurled in your chest.

Whoa, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine

Whoa, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

The music curled around you, eyes peeking at him discretely and you couldn’t help but smile at how he mouthed the words to the music. Suddenly, an old memory steamrolled you, bubbling up unbidden.

You were so excited, you couldn’t believe you’d found the dress you wanted at such a discount – and it was the last one – in your size! Anne said it was definitely a sign. You carefully applied your mascara and the last bit of hairspray into your hair.

“Do I look dumb? I don’t want him to think I’m trying too hard,” you said, nervous beyond belief.

Anne beamed at you; eyes soft. “You look beautiful and trust me, he won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.”

The guitar solo broke you from the memory. Oh, you were here.

“The blue one at the end?” He asked. “Robin’s is the yellow one, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice coming out too shaky.

Eddie shot you a confused look but your eyes darted down to your bag at your feet.

While you’d never admit it out loud - your attraction to Eddie had never fully been stomped out but…as you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t help but remember.

The memory of that night slithered back to the front of your mind and your nails dug into your palms. The feeling of your dress under your fingers, the smell of hairspray, and the memory of the butterflies in your stomach.

Eddie came to a stop and you jumped out like you were a bat out of hell. Inhaling deeply, you felt your clammy hands unclench as clean air filled your lungs.

“Thanks for the ride, I owe you one,” you said, not bothering to look back.

Eddie’s confused voice followed you as you slammed the door behind you. “Oh, uh, sure-”

You jogged towards your front door, quickly shutting it and dropping your bag onto the floor. Eddie Munson was not to be trusted, you reminded yourself, watching through the blinds as he idled in your driveway before pulling out. No matter how nice he smelled or how deceptively beautiful his stupid eyes were. Those had been the same things that had pulled you in before and he – he’d…

Wiping your face with the back of your wrist, you ripped the dress off your body and climbed into your bed. Crying until your chest hurt from heaving, you still couldn’t help but wonder how you’d read him so wrong.

That’s what you’d gotten for trusting Eddie Munson and no matter what truce or bond you had, you weren’t making that mistake twice.

You had spent the entire night replaying the painful memories in your head like some sick twisted version of your own personal hell. So, when you woke up bleary eyed and cranky for your shift the next morning, you weren’t totally surprised.

“Good morning,” Eddie said, early as always, when you walked in.

Grumpy at having to work the morning shift on little to no sleep – thanks to him no less – you grumbled incoherently. A ghost of a smile flashed across Eddie’s face before he handed you a to-go cup.

Narrowing your eyes at it, you watched as his lips twitched before he wiggled the cup at you again. “It’s not poisoned, I swear. I got it from the coffee shop two streets down.”

“Oh,” you said, realizing you did know the design on the sleeve. You took it from him and sipped it cautiously. “That’s my favorite coffee shop, the baristas are so nice.”

“I know,” he said, ears turning red as he whirled around.

You blinked at him, confused. “Thanks,” you said, not sure if it was a statement or question.

He waved his hand in the air and you tossed your things into your locker. Coming back out, you hopped onto the counter and watched Eddie reshelve as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Suddenly, you realized he had put on The Breakfast Club – one of your favorites. Hadn’t he given you shit for how many times you liked to watch it?

Your eyes darted towards him to find him already watching you. “What?” He asked, startled at your sudden attention.

“Interesting movie choice,” you said, shrugging.

Eddie’s molten eyes seared you as his mouth curved into something resembling a sheepish smile. “It’s a good movie,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip.

The quiet of the store, the one only a Friday morning could conjure, echoed loudly. You both blinked at each other, unsure. You did know, however, that he was extending a metaphorical olive branch. And you didn’t want to be the asshole that rejected that. No matter how much you didn’t trust him.

“It is a good movie,” you agreed, taking a swig of your coffee and realizing that Eddie had gotten your coffee order correctly. How did he know how you liked your coffee?

Eddie’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Let me guess, you’re Molly Ringwald.”

You snorted so hard, you almost felt coffee come out your nose. Thumping your chest, you coughed until it cleared. “Dude, what the hell?”

Eddie looked bewildered.

“I wish I was Molly,” you said, looking up at the television again. “I’m definitely Brian.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you said, waving him off. “Mr. Bateman’s AP Chem lab is the reason I lost the full ride to Indie State. The only reason I kept some of it was because of the soccer scout. My mom didn’t care, she’s happy I was top of the class but, whatever. Mr. Bateman can fucking suck it.” Alright, maybe you were still a little bitter about it.

Eddie’s contemplative silence only made you more nervous.

“That’s why I’m in this shithole,” you added, picking at the coffee cup cover. “I can’t afford college yet; I’ve got money from the grants I did get – and my soccer scholarship but…I still needed some more. My mom said she’d get it somehow but, I barely see her enough as it is.”

“I didn’t know,” Eddie said quietly.

You looked at him over your shoulder and shrugged. “I know you didn’t. That’s why I like to remind you that your trailer park and my neighborhood are only a few blocks apart. I didn’t grow up like Steve. I don’t know what image you have of me but, just because I hung out with cheerleaders and jocks at the end of high school didn’t mean I had the money they did.”

Before Eddie could say anything else, you switched the subject. No matter how nice he was being, you’d learned the hard way that Eddie Munson had two sides and could flip between them with enough speed to give you whiplash.  

“Let me guess, you’re Bender,” you asked, grabbing the next stack of tapes. You needed to do something or you were going to end up biting off all your nails.

Eddie sighed. “I’d like to prove you wrong and tell you definitely not but, yeah – we’re just a cliché in the end huh?”

There was something about the way he’d said it, numb – like a bunch of people had told him he wouldn’t amount to anything until he’d started to believe it himself. A flash of Bender’s face while Vernon yelled at him crossed your mind. A surprising wave of protectiveness surged in you.

“No, Eddie,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. You let your eyes roam around his wild hair, curls jutting out like they had a mind of their own, his Metallica long sleeve t-shirt was faded and looked incredibly soft underneath his Family Video vest. Why couldn’t you just let the idea of him go? A pang of old hurt shot through you. Your eyes fell back to his and you felt your stomach summersault at the look in them. “You are anything but a cliché.”

The smile that grew on Eddie’s face reminded you of a gar den. It was warm and welcoming as it split his face nearly in two. After a moment, you turned back to the computer, hands clammy, and tried hard not to focus on the new comfortable silence that had settled.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at how much you’d revealed with your answer but also wondered if that had been the metaphorical white flag to finally wave between you two. Either way, later on in the day when Robin skidded into the store, she shrieked.

“Did you finally kill Munson? I knew you’d crack one day.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s too quiet in here! Where’d you hide the body? Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to accidentally sell you out.”

Eddie walked through the swinging doors and smiled when he saw Robin. “Oh, hey, I didn’t hear the bell. How was your midterm?”

Ignoring his question, Robin looked between you two nervously. “I don’t know what’s worse, the bickering or the truce.”

Eddie leaned onto the counter and you used every ounce of willpower you had not to dart your eyes towards the exposed sliver of skin at his waist. “What’s she talking about?” Eddie asked, eyes sparkling with humor.

You eyed him, the small voice that usually warned you away from him mysteriously quiet. After a beat too long, you offered up your own white flag. “I don’t know,” you said, playing along, “you know how she is.” Surprise and relief flashed across Eddie’s face before melting into a small smirk.

People could change, you’d seen it in Steve. And while it didn’t change your opinion about the past, and what’d he’d done – you didn’t need to fight him for the rest of your lives.

Robin’s eyes almost bugged out her head. “No, no, no you can’t gang up on me! Where’s Harrington when you need him?”

Wincing as the group on stage screamed their goodbyes, you sipped your beer and wondered if you’d taken the metaphorical flag waving a bit too far.

It was a combination of Eddie’s complete one-eighty change in personality, the hopeful look in his stupid Bambi eyes, and Steve answering for you, that landed you in a crowded bar downtown waiting for Corroded Coffin to take the stage as the final act. According to Dustin, their pseudo-manager, it was a huge night for them. They were the main band, and had managed to get a full house.

“Hey everyone,” a voice echoed and your eyes shot up to the stage.

Dustin shushed everyone, Nancy and Robin sharing an eye roll – and you muffling your laugh – as he stared up at the band.

“We want to thank everyone for coming out,” Eddie said, looking completely at home up on the stage. You couldn’t help but be a little…well, shocked. He’d transformed completely as he strummed his guitar, his head banging as he made the stage his home.

It was clear now, compared to the other bands, why Corroded Coffin was the main attraction. They played well off each other, the other three members balancing out Eddie’s energy and ramping it up when they needed to.

“Now, I know you guys are here for the classics but we did get one request and I promised him I’d play it before the end of the night. So, Harrington, this one’s for you,” Eddie said with a wink.

Your group turned to gaze at Steve who grinned. At the sight of all the stares, Steve grinned sheepishly. “We made a bet last week at the store. If he lost, he had to play a pop cover,” Steve said, grinning victoriously. Despite the shift, the crowd still ate it up.

Steve pulled your hand up to his and twirled you around. Shrieking at the sudden, unexpected, movement, you laughed when Steve herded you onto the dance floor. His head bopped, one arm around yours and you jumped along to the tempo. Nancy and Jonathan joined you both, in their own world, and you opened your arms to beckon Robin over.

Soon, the set came to an end and Steve had led the group back over to the bar. A little out of breath, and sweaty, you ordered another beer and pressed the cool bottle to your cheek. “Damn Harrington, you’ve got moves,” you said, impressed.

Steve winked at you and for a brief moment you could see what girls saw in him. Robin, however, just rolled her eyes and sipped her drink. “Oh, look, it’s Eddie!” She waved, greeting him with a hug. Your little group cheered for them, offering up their congratulations. Feeling a little awkward, the peace between you two still too new, you focused on getting your pulse back to normal.

“So, I saw you dancing,” Eddie said, sliding into the bar stool next to yours.

Biting back a smile, you shrugged. “You weren’t atrocious,” you said nonchalantly.

Eddie, recognizing the compliment hidden underneath, threw his head back and laughed. “High praise from you, Lightning.” The echoes of his laughter flittered around you.

“Don’t say I never said anything nice,” you said, teasing back. The electricity between you both yawned awake and you chewed on your cheek. This new development had you avoiding Eddie recently, unsure on how to handle it. Glancing at him, you saw his stare already on you. Not wanting to flinch away like you normally did, you sipped your drink, eyes still on his. You licked at your bottom lip, catching a stray drop of beer and your stomach summersaulted when you saw his eyes follow the movement.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said quietly, almost inaudible under the music blaring from the speakers.

Not knowing what to say, you shrugged. “Technically, you didn’t invite me,” you said, “Steve just pulled me along.”

Eddie’s head reared back, his eyes flying back to yours and he only dropped his shoulders when he realized you were joking. “I’ll invite you personally next time,” he said, knocking his beer bottle with yours.

More than a little surprised, you shot him a look and he just ducked his head to smile. Your heart skipped and you wanted to reach down and beat it back into submission. This wasn’t the time to forget.

“Although, I can do you one better,” he swirled in his stool, his knees bumping into yours and leaving them there. His warmth seeped into your skin, like he was branding you, and you quirked your brow in a last-ditch effort to seem unaffected.

“Do you want to go to an afterparty? Jared, one of the guitarists, lives out by the lake and has a bonfire after. It’s got shitty alcohol but good people,” Eddie added when he saw you scrunch your nose.

Dropping your hand to his, surprising you both, you winced. “Lover’s Lake?” You asked quietly.

Understanding bled into his expression and he shook his head. “Opposite side of town, I promise,” he said, his finger tracing a small circle onto your skin. “I…can’t really go by that lake either now.”

“Are the others going?” You asked, glancing around for a familiar face.

Eddie smiled. “Why? Scared to be alone with the Satan worshippers?”

Not able to help yourself, you snorted. “Eddie, I could sucker punch you into next week without blinking,” you said.

With a dramatic gasp, hands going to his chest, you watched amusedly as Eddie sputtered. “How dare you? I fought demobats for you.”

“I’m still the better fighter,” you said, laughing when he feigned hurt.

“I can’t believe you’d say that completely true fact right to my face,” he said, huffing.

Before you could tease back, a scruffy haired guy popped up by Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie, Mark wants to talk to you. Said something about payment and next week’s schedule.”

Eddie looked almost remorseful but he tapped your arm. “I’ll be right back and then we can all drive out to Jared’s.”

“You’re coming?” The newcomer asked, surprise tinting his expression.

Feeling a little defensive, you felt your shoulders rise and were suddenly almost thrown from your seat when Eddie stood up. His back was to you but you managed to catch his death glare towards his friend. You placed an stumbling, desperate, hand on his hip for balance and Eddie jumped. His eyes dropped to yours and they softened. “Sorry. Lightning, Gareth - Gareth, Lightning. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, lifting your bottle in a semi-salute and Eddie smiled before disappearing into the crowd. Nancy, a little disheveled and out of breath, leaned against you and sighed. “It’s so loud!” She said, a little too loudly for how close to your ear she was. She swayed a little and you knew by the flush in her cheeks that she was tipsy.

“Come on Wheeler, park it,” you said, bumping her into your stool. She beamed at you, pushing hair away from her face.

“Hey, Gareth, right? You played really well.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Completely forgetting Eddie’s bandmate, you glanced at him to find him watching you. Feeling awkward again, you steadied Nancy as she chatted with the bartender. “Um, I know who you are by the way,” you said, shifting your weight. “We were in English and Biology together during junior year.”

Gareth smiled, making him look younger, and you watched him as he became a little flustered. “Yeah, you always helped me out with the pop quizzes.”

Snorting, you glanced at him. “By helping out do you mean letting you and Jeff cheat off me?”

Laughing, he nodded and you grinned. “Not a lot of people would’ve helped,” he said, “but you were always nice to us. You never let Tommy pick on us either.”

“He wasn’t as much of a bully without his leaders,” you said with a scoff, remembering Steve’s old friends. “Besides, he knew from experience not to fuck with me.”

Clearly that had been the only thing Gareth needed to break the ice because conversation flowed easily after. At one-point, mid-sentence, you glanced over at the dance floor and caught sight of Eddie.

Voice drying up, you watched as he wrapped his arms around a girl a good head shorter than him. She leaned back, eyes sparkling in clear adoration, and you felt your stomach drop to your feet. She had long, beautiful, black hair that you knew was something she was born with – hair that nice had to be genetics. Her entire outfit screamed effortless and grunge in a way you’d never in a million years be able to replicate. She looked like the girlfriend of the guitarist of a band, like someone who fit in, you thought, annoyed.

Whoa, where had that come from? You straightened, realizing you’d completely ignored Gareth. His eyes shot you a knowing look. “That’s Mark’s daughter – the owner of the bar. She’s cool-”

“-I’m sure she is. Um, I’ll be right back,” you said, rushing towards the exit. The cold November air stung as you took a shuddering breath. You watched it evaporate into the air and you frowned.

What the fuck was in the air in that place? Had you gotten jealous? Over Eddie? You shook your head, leaning against the brick wall and placing a hand to your forehead. Get it together, you scolded yourself, get it the fuck together.

“Hey.”

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you whirled around and came face to face with Eddie. He was rubbing his hands together, clearly cold. “You’re shivering,” he said as your mind whirled with an excuse to just drive home.

Before you could tell him you were fine – you hadn’t worn a thick enough coat since you knew you’d be driving to the bar – Eddie had unzipped his hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders. Clearly, your body was certifiably insane because your arms tucked themselves into the sleeves and latched onto the warmth. Hello? You mind screamed. This is the opposite of getting it together!

“You’ll start to shiver now,” you said, brows furrowing at the sight of his thin long sleeve. Eddie just waved off your concern and tucked his hands into his jean’s pockets. His eyes were wide as you burrowed into his hoodie, his brown ones stuck on your torso. Did he want it back?

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got my leather jacket inside,” he said, voice sounding a little strangled, and his eyes darted over your head, “I just came out to see what the hell had you thinking you could pull an Irish goodbye.”

You hadn’t been aware he was watching you. Mind coming up blank, you looked down towards your hands and immediately regretted it. The motion brought your nose closer to the collar and a waft of Eddie’s stupid smell just wrapped around you. “Uh, I was just getting a bit too hot,” you lied, poorly.

“Right,” Eddie said, “so this would be the right moment to tell you Jared’s party is mostly outside?”

Well, fuck.

“Hey Munson!” A group of guys from one of the earlier bands waves towards the road. “We’re gonna go help Jared set up. You coming?”

“Yeah!” He called out waving them off and turning back to you. “I let Harrington know he could leave his car behind in the parking lot but he said he’s giving a Robin a ride. I don’t mind giving anyone a ride. Byers said he’d take the kids home with Wheeler. She’s a little-”

“-drunk already?” You finished for him with a smile. “Nancy is a certified badass in every way but her alcohol tolerance.” Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried your best to ignore the waft of cologne that threatened to pull you under.

Eddie laughed, stupidly pretty eyes trailing down to your torso again. His cheeks flushed and you frowned. “So, you want shotgun?”

And like the complete, and absolute mess that you were, you felt yourself nod. “Sure, can’t let Steve have all the fun.”

There was absolutely no way in hell you were telling anyone how absolutely fucking freezing you were. How the fuck did everyone look warm enough? On the ride over, Eddie had the heating blasting and it still didn’t feel like enough.

As Eddie pulled the van into a spot by a house in the woods, everyone in the back piled out and you groaned internally at the gust of air that came through the open side doors.

“Here,” Eddie said, rummaging around the back and pulling out a purple blanket. He tucked it under his arm and motioned to the fire that had already been started. “It’s much warmer in front of the fire, I promise.”

Not needing to be told twice, you sped over to the empty logs by the fire and plopped down. Curling your arms around you, you let the warmth of the flames sink into your skin. “Jesus that’s good,” you said, extending a hand out towards the fire.

Something soft dropped into your lap and Eddie took a seat on the wooden log next to you. “Here, I’ve got a few blankets in the van if you want another.”

Your fingers were curled into the soft material and you blinked up at him. Eddie Munson had warm fluffy blankets in his van?

“I remember that blanket,” Gareth said as he passed you both on his way towards the food. He wiggled his brows at Eddie who looked like he was turning purple.

Car blankets…ew! “Oh my God, is this your sex blanket? Eddie, did you just offer me your hook up blanket?” You asked, staring at the purple cloth suspiciously.

Clearly not expecting that answer, he choked, eyes wildly turning to you. “No, Jesus, Lightning – no it’s not my fucking sex blanket,” he hissed, voice lowering towards the end.

You took in his mildly offended expression and snorted. “Oh, stop looking like I pissed in your cheerios, you’re telling me you’ve never hooked up with a girl in your van? With all that space?”

Eddie’s cheeks turned suspiciously pink and you couldn’t help but grin. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone on that blanket!” He insisted.

Giving it a tentative sniff, the same Eddie scent drifted out and you deemed it suitable. Wrapping the fleece around your shoulders, you tucked yourself into it and almost cried at how warm you felt. Beaming up at Eddie, you leaned your shoulder onto his. “Thank you, Munson.” Jesus, clearly the cold was interfering with your common sense.

Despite your mind screaming into the void, your heart skipped when he smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, eyes on the fire.

“Someone’s a little cold,” a voice said, an enormous man sitting onto the log next to you. For a moment, you swore the ground shook.

“Jared,” Eddie greeted, fist bumping against his. “This is-”

“-I know who you are,” Jared said with a grin and you raised your brow. He laughed, eyes scrunching when he did. “You went to school with my little sister. She was on the junior varsity team.”

A flash of Mariah’s face came to the forefront of your mind and you grinned. Mariah had been a freshman right as you’d graduated. Her determined expression, box braids tied neatly back, and wide smile came to mind.

“No shit, I didn’t know she had a brother,” you straightened, smiling up at the giant. “She’s like five feet worth of anger and determination on the field. I helped coach the JV team my last year.”

Jared smiled, his teeth incredibly straight and white. “Yeah, she idolizes you man. Said she wanted to be just like Lightning,” he said, “she told me how you worked with her after practice to get her drills better. Thanks.”

You waved away his gratitude. “No thanks needed; she’s got a great career ahead of her. She’d get scouted in a second – last I heard she wanted to go to Brown?”

“Yeah,” Jared said, clearly proud, “she got the brains.”

“I’m assuming that means you got the brawn?” You asked. Eddie sputtered, trying and failing to hide his laugh.

Jared, amused, shook his head. “Everyone’s gotta mention it,” he said, “if you ask me what the weather is like up here, I’ll kick you out.”

“No, you won’t,” you said, burrowing back into your blanket and smirking up at the man who clearly adored his sister, “or I’ll tell Mariah and she’ll never let you live it down.”

Jared’s laughter echoed around the trees and illuminated the forest. It was the kind of laughter that you couldn’t help but join in on. “Munson, I like this one. How’d you manage to bag Lightning of all people?”

You opened your mouth to tease Eddie but instead he turned a bright red and said adamantly: “We’re not dating, we work together.”

It took everything in your soul to not let your face show how stung you were at how quickly and fervently he said that. Jesus. Alright, he didn’t want to date you – that was crystal clear. “So, you’re single?” Jared said, wiggling his brows. Having known him for exactly five minutes, you could already tell he was joking.

“Keep playing your cards right and maybe I won’t be,” you teased back.

Jared laughed, utterly delighted, and Eddie huffed. “You wouldn’t want Batman coming after you,” he said.

Completely confused, you turned to him and lowered the blanket. “What?”

“Blake?” Eddie said, tone equally confused.

“Oh,” you said, shaking your head, “he’s just a friend. He’s one of my neighbors – he just broke up with his girlfriend and didn’t want to go to the party alone. He knew I…well, I needed the night out so we decided to go together. Then we won the contest and the tequila…”

Eddie’s face went blank and Jared chuckled. “Sounded like a hell of a party.”

“It was, so was the hangover the next morning,” you said, shivering when a strong gust of wind hit you.

“Well, the weather down there looks cold if your teeth chattering is anything to go by,” Jared said, eyes mischievous. “Hey Eddie, why don’t you give her some of my special blend? It always warms people right up.”

Eddie snorted and you turned to glance at both of them. “Is that euphemism for something? Because I may not be as tall as you but I’m scrappy and I’ll kick both your asses.”

Jared’s laugh boomed again and a few people turned to glance at your curiously. “You’re funny, I really like her Munson,” he said, tone suggestive.

Not wanting to go down that particular road – something told you that an older brother like Jared would be ruthless in teasing – you hopped to your feet. “Come on Munson, let’s get this infamous drink.”

You followed Eddie’s lead towards the tables set up by the lone house near the lake. Glancing around, you watched as a few people smiled at you and greeted each other warmly. You had no idea there was such a big metalhead scene in Indiana.

“They like you,” he said, handing you a red cup filled with what smelled like paint stripper.

“A lot of people finding my presence to be scintillating, not everyone despises me the way you do,” you said, quirking a brow at him, you took a sip and almost spat it out into the dirt. What the- “Holy shit what the fuck is that?”

Eddie laughed, eyes turning towards Jared. “He makes this gross moonshine concoction that he swears is great.”

Not able to scrub the taste from your mouth, you shouted: “Jared this tastes like acetone! If I die from ingesting this shit, I’m haunting your ass!”

Jared and his bandmates laughed, waving away your grievances and you rolled your eyes. “A beer, please, I’ll even take some shitty vodka.”

Snorting, Eddie snapped the cap off your bottle with his keys and handed it to you. It was cold but you instantly swashed it around your mouth, trying to get your nerve endings to return.

“I don’t despise you,” Eddie said after he’d opened himself a beer.

“What?” You asked, practically drooling at your attempts to wash down the moonshine. God, your mouth was on fire. Eddie smiled but handed you the bag of chips he’d swiped from the table. Digging into them with gusto, you looked up at him curiously.

“I said, I don’t despise you,” he echoed quietly, his eyes darting down to his beer bottle. You froze, mid-chew and followed his eyesight. Eddie’s thumb was picking at the label relentlessly, the sticky paper peeling as his nail grated at it.

Hating the light awkwardness that had settled in, you shrugged, bumping his shoulders with your own. “High praise coming from Eddie Munson.” Your eyes flittered around the woods and you stood, nodding towards Jared. “Come on, I need to go give him more shit for that drink. I don’t know if I’ll ever taste anything normally again.”

You took off, Eddie’s footsteps and laughter following close behind.

“Did you know that the Harvest Festival opened last week?” You asked Eddie, words slurring.

Eddie nodded, the movement distracting you. “Yeah, Lightning, you’ve told me like six times tonight. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Have I?” You hiccupped, chest shuddering against your permission. “I really want to go.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Robin said, leaning her entire body weight onto your side. Falling over, you stumbled into someone’s lap.

“Liam!” You said, greeting Eddie’s newest bandmate excitedly. Oh my God, you’d found Liam!

“You did find me, I was sitting right below you though,” Liam said, amused, “you okay?”

Not moving an inch, you stretched towards the fire and nodded. “Yeah, totally!” You realized he’d been mid conversation with a blonde girl and you thrusted your hand out. “Hi!”

Her green eyes crinkled with amusement and she shook your hand. “Nice to meet you again,” she said.

“You’re so pretty,” you told her.

Her cheeks went pink and she ducked her head, her leather jacket rustling with the movement. Robin, who’d ended up sprawled next to you nodded enthusiastically. “So pretty,” she agreed. “I love your fishnet tights.”

“It works really well with the outfit,” you added. “I would date the shit out of you.”

“Me too!” Robin laughed, falling half into you.

The girl, looking pleased and amused, laughed. “Munson, I like your friends. They’re good for my ego,” she said, helping you sit back up onto the log and squeezing your shoulder.

Eddie popped out of nowhere and you squealed. “Eddie!” You wrapped your arms around his and tugged him down towards you. God, he was so warm. “Where’d you come from? Have you met Liam and his pretty girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing lightly, “I have met Liam and Alianna.”

“I missed you,” you said softly, leaning your head onto his shoulder and closing your eyes. The fire had begun to spin and you felt the faintest nausea roll through your belly.

A few soft fingers danced across your cheek and pushed the hair out of your face. Eddie’s big brown eyes swam into your vision, steady and a little amused, and you grinned. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, fingers still at your cheek, “I missed you too.”

“That’s an understatement,” Liam laughed, his eyes on the two of you, and you watched Eddie lean down to punch his shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up, she’s drunk,” Eddie hissed.

You weren’t drunk, you thought, you’d barely had a cup of that acetone. “Good,” you said when his eyes were back on yours, “I’m a very miss-able person.”

“You are,” he nodded, eyes darting away from yours and glaring towards the man at your feet. “I was gone for about five minutes and it’s because I needed to grab you two these.” With a flourish, a pair of water bottles appeared from thin air.

Stumbling up to your feet, you felt your eyes widen as you gasped. “Oh my God, you’re magic.”

“Something like that,” Eddie said, helping Robin open hers.

“Where’s Steve?” You gulped down your water and managed to spill a bit onto your chin.

“Right here. Jesus, are you two drunker than when I left fifteen minutes ago? I found a few bags in case they puke on the way home.”

“I drank Liam’s beer,” Robin declared and you cheered, liking the beaming smile she sent your way. “Holy shit. Lightning look!”

Whirling around to follow her finger, Eddie’s hand came up quickly to steady you. Not able to find what Robin was clearing gasping at, you blinked at her. “What?”

“A bunny!”

You clasped your hands in front of your chest and shrieked. “A bunny!?” You loved bunnies! And dogs. And clouds. And snow!

Steve snorted. “I highly doubt-”

“Race you!” You screamed, shaking Eddie’s hand off and darting out into the trees.

Robin’s laughter and heavy footsteps followed you but she’d quickly veered to the left. You hesitated, hearing Eddie and Steve shout out your names.

“Fuck, they’re both fast. I’m closer to Rob – just, go – she can run across the field in a minute, hurry!” Steve’s voice echoed.

You gasped. They wanted to find the bunny first. Grinning, you felt the strength in your legs as you pumped your arms and sped off through the trees. You could see the field in your mind, feel the ball at your feet and the wall of defense you needed to get through before you got the goal.

With a well-practiced kick, a zing of pain shot through your leg when the rock cracked in two against the tree a few feet ahead.

“Holy shit,” Eddie said, hand clamping down painfully tight on your wrist. “You – you run really fast.”

“I’m a center forward,” you said, still jumping up and down a little at your successful goal, “did you see that? I scored!”

Eddie blinked at you. “What the hell are you talking about? Jesus you should’ve stopped after the fourth cup.”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “Eddie, didn’t you see me score?”

“Of course I did, who’d you score against? The bunny?”

Bunny? “What bunny?” You asked, tilting your head and stumbling when the motion made the world spin.

Eddie’s arm pulled you towards him so your back was to his chest and his arms cradled you.

“It’s dizzy in the woods,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “You have a bunny?”

At your wide-eyed look, Eddie tossed his head back and laughed. “You’re kind of hilarious, you know that?”

Obviously. “Duh.”

“Maybe we should walk back and tell everyone how you scored,” he said gently, tugging you forward.

That was a great idea! You thought, letting Eddie tug you back towards the flickering warm light. “Can you help me take off this jacket?” You asked him, feeling warm.

“Let’s keep it on,” Eddie said quickly, “it’s cold and you could get sick.”

“But I’m hot,” you whined, stomping your foot.

Eddie groaned. “Please? For me?” Ugh, those stupid eyes.

Conceding, you resumed walking and remembered. “Hey, the quarter is almost over,” you said, “the best employee is going to be picked soon.”

“I promise to bring you back some leftovers,” Eddie teased and you grinned.

Thinking on the cake you’d been dreaming of, you nodded. “If you win, bring me some cake okay? Pinky promise?”

Surrounded by Eddie’s laughter and his fingers hooked in yours, the lights from the party still swam in your vision, the ground felt more solid beneath you.

Suddenly, a memory shoved your smile aside and you frowned.

“It was all a joke.”

Eddie wasn’t to be trusted. He’d left you. He broke promises. He wasn’t going to bring you cake.

Upset, you stopped walking and looked to him. “Why?” Because that’s all you’d ever really wanted to know. Why had he done that to you?

“Why what? Why am I half carrying you back to the clearing? Because knowing you, you’d get lost trying to drunkenly run after a bunny in the woods,” he said with a laugh.

“No,” you grunted, pulling your arm out of his. The bubbly feeling in your chest was replaced with a soft, familiar, hurt. It radiated outwards, your skin crawled with it. “Why’d you do that to me? You really…hurt my feelings.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, ducking his head to catch your gaze.

The way he softened his tone, his eyes warm and inviting, lured you in like a moth to a flame. “I hate that I still like the sound of your voice,” you said, annoyed at yourself and scrunching your nose. “You’re so pretty and it’s not fair. In math class I’d stare at you the whole period. Did you know that you stick your tongue out when you concentrate really hard?”

“What?”

“I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

Looking stunned, Eddie blinked. “Am I?” He asked, looking confused and pleased. “Do you? Exactly how much have you had to drink?”

Ready to tell him all the ways you thought he was beautiful; you were interrupted by Steve’s voice. “What the hell is wrong with you guys?” He panted, out of breath. “I got Robin shoved back into my car. I think it’s best if we just crash at my place, it’s the closest. A few others need rides though.”

“I can drive her to yours,” Eddie offered quickly, hand coming up to your elbow.

Steve shrugged. “I can take her or you can just stay over too.”

Eddie frowned, looking unhappy. You poked at his cheek and giggled when he smiled down at you. “Are you…sure?”

“Dude, I helped keep your skin together while you bled out in her lap. Crashing on my sofa at almost five? in the morning,” Steve groaned and you giggled, “isn’t crossing any lines.”

Eddie turned back to you. “Come on Superstar, we’re going home,” he urged you forward. “We have a lot to talk about tomorrow morning.”

“Let’s take some more of the m’shine,” you whispered to Eddie, stumbling over roots. “That stuff is good.”

His laughter echoed in your bones and you smiled up at him. “I’ll make sure to tell Jared you said that.”

Fuck, you groaned, sharp pain digging into your skull and slapping your brain like the little bitch it was. “There go my corneas,” you hissed, clutching at your head.

Where the fuck were you? You glanced around and caught sight of a snoring Robin on the bed next to you. Steve’s house.

Flashes of last night came back to you and you groaned. What in the hell had possessed you to drink a whole ass cup of moonshine? You were going to kill Steve. Just come out with us, what’s the worst that could happen?

It took you about five minutes to talk yourself up to standing. You felt like you had the equilibrium of a baby deer as you darted into the bathroom across the hall. Locking the door and hurrying over to the toilet you realized you’d managed to change into the pajama set you kept in Steve’s guest room. Smiling, a fuzzy memory bubbled up and you remembered laughing so hard you cried when Robin had gotten her head stuck in her sweatpants while trying to change.

A loud whirring sound startled you to attention. As quickly as you could, you splashed your face and brushed your teeth to get the taste of last night’s events out your mouth.

Feeling mildly better, you grimaced when the light from the hallway reawakened your migraine. Squinting your eyes, you tried to stumble towards the noise coming from the kitchen in the hopes that someone was brewing coffee.

You were a few feet away from the swinging door when you heard your name. Freezing in place, you peeked through the circular window and watched Steve hand Eddie a mug.

“I don’t know dude…” Eddie said, “she looked pretty sad but I don’t understand…she said some stuff. I just want to talk to her.”

Steve sighed. “Listen, I promised her I wouldn’t take sides but you have to give her some space. She’s not good at – this wasn’t easy for her. Working with you, you gotta understand that right?”

You winced. What the fuck Steve? What the hell was unclear about ‘don’t speak about this ever?’

“Right…” Eddie said, still sounding unsure.

“I’m not judging you, it was a long time ago now, and people change but, she’s still hurt. She tries to hide it but-”

“She’s hurt?” The indignation in Eddie’s voice confused you. What the hell did he have to be mad about?

You heard Steve’s soft laughter. “Besides, you both looked pretty cozy to me last night. I see the way you look at her. She might be blind to it, but we’re not. Dustin definitely isn’t.”

Eddie sputtered, and you heard the nerves in his tone as he stumbled over his words. The instinct to defend yourself, to deny it, was so strong you had to grab the doorknob to keep you steady. You wanted to hear what Eddie had to say. Blind to what?

“That’s-”

“Dingus!” Robin’s voice cried, “Is that coffee I smell? God my head feels like fucking lead!”

She bumped into you, jarring your heads, and you both groaned at the same time.

“Sorry,” she moaned, “I didn’t hear you come out the bathroom. My brain is pounding.”

You did your best to look like you weren’t just eavesdropping on them and waved away her apologies. Robin shoved the doors and you followed suit.

Steve grinned, his eyes teasing over his mug of coffee and you knew you were going to pay for the shit you’d given him the last time you had to pick up him from a bar.

“So, let’s recap the night, shall we?”

Robin groaned and you stood in silence, sipping at your coffee, taking each teasing jab with a smile or scowl. Eddie’s arm brushed against yours as you sat at the kitchen island next to him and you jumped. He smiled, making room for you, and you mumbled your thanks. The memory of his arms wrapping around you in the woods flashed through your mind and you stiffened. Shit. Had you said anything embarrassing? Just be normal, be cool, you snapped at yourself.

Despite everything, you still felt Eddie’s eyes on you the whole morning.

This was weird. You were being weird.

And yet…you had still shrugged Eddie’s hoodie on over your shoulders this morning. The worn material was soft and warm.

There was absolutely no reason, aside from your clear temporary insanity, for you to be wearing it. In fact, you should’ve returned it to him the next day. But here you were. In your car, panicking about Eddie seeing you in it and scrambling to take it off. You had reached for it that morning without realizing that you had a whole shift with him.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” You muttered to yourself, pulling on your outer coat on and checking your hair.

In your defense, everything between you two seemed to have shifted after that night – after the party. Despite the fact that you couldn’t remember half of the night. Eddie had done a one eighty and spent most of his time being…well…nice to you. You were both still trying to win the dinner but, it was about making yourself look good rather than making Eddie seem lacking.

It’d been a whole five days and you hadn’t had a single homicidal thought once. That had to be a record; something of that caliber had to be documented.

So, because of all this – you’d yet to give back the sweater. He hadn’t asked you for it and you’d possibly taken advantage of that. Last night, you’d had a nightmare about Homecoming and it had been enough of a wake-up call that you’d become resolute in returning it to him today.

While you’d laid down the metaphorical pitchfork, your suspicion still lingered. You couldn’t help it at this point, it was in your nature.

“Hey,” you said, walking into the store.

Eddie whipped his head around to you and smiled. “Good morning, Lightning.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled when he shot you one of his stupid soft smiles. You weren’t sure if it was guilt from hoarding his sweater or a genuine effort at peace, but you pulled out the breakfast muffins you’d baked last night. Coming out to the counter, you hopped into the high chair and placed the second muffin onto the far left.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to assume that the second one is for me?” Eddie’s voice drifted over from the sci-fi section.

“It would be actually, that’s my second helping,” you said, hiding your smile as you turned to check the returns bin.

Eddie gripped his chest and pretended like he’d been shot. “You wound me, m’lady.”

With a light laugh, you shook your head and waved to the muffin. “You never eat breakfast and I made too many of them…”

His brown eyes softened, his hand coming out to cradle the baked good in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m finally worthy of a Lightning Special.”

Quirking a brow, you watched him take a big bite. He moaned around the food, your heart tripping over itself, and shook his head. “What the hell is a Lightning Special?”

“It’s what I call whatever you’d cooked. You’d always bring Steve or Robin some extras and I’d never admit it, but they always smelled amazing.”

“I would’ve given you some if you’d asked,” you mumbled, smirking when he shot you a disbelieving look. “I don’t know why you’ve got this idea I’m a gremlin or something. I’d like to think most people think I’m polite.”

Eddie snorted and you crumpled up your napkin to chuck at him. “Eddie! Fine, see if I ever bring you something else.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, rolling his eyes when you crossed your arms. With a dramatic flourish unique to Eddie, he walked over to your chair, bowed, and pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m so sorry your highness, can you ever forgive me?”

“Buy me a coffee on break and I’ll think about it.”

With a wide grin, he snapped his fingers. “Done!”

You hopped off the chair, your stupid vest getting stuck on the arm, and stumbled forward. Eddie’s hands steadied your arms and the both of you froze. Noses a few inches apart, you blinked up at him. “I-I’m stuck,” you stuttered, wincing when you heard your own voice. Mistaking your wince for pain, Eddie’s hand darted to the garment and freed you.

“Thanks,” you said, not able to look at him in the eye. Both of you awkwardly took a few steps back – Eddie’s hand coming up to the back of his neck.

“Right, yeah, no problem,” he stammered, walking back to the discarded muffin.

Not wanting the awkwardness to linger, shit – maybe you had gotten used to the ceasefire, you reached for his forearm and were struck by how warm he was. “I promise to bring you some of the baked stuff when I make them,” you said. Eddie’s eyes softened and you watched as they dipped, for a millisecond, down to your lips. Suddenly, it felt too hard to inhale properly.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said eventually.

The bell on the door rang and you both jumped apart. “Hi, welcome to Family Video,” you both said, a touch too loud. Amused, you shot him a look that he laughed at.

“Hi! I’m looking for Eddie – oh, hey Eddie,” a soft voice said. You glanced up and realized you faintly recognized the girl standing by the doors.

Eddie’s cheeks flushed and you blinked, surprised. The girl he was dancing with at the Hideout, your mind supplied. You watched her tuck a strand of inky shiny black hair behind her ear and you fought the urge to scowl.

Without any prodding, you pointed to Keith’s office. “Oh, I totally forgot I need something from there, right now,” you said, ushering yourself into his office before anyone could say anything.

Unsure of what to do, and definitely not wanting to touch anything, you sat on the edge of the chairs by his desk. God, Keith really needed to clean this room. Ew, was that a moldy sandwich?

Keeping the door ajar, you tried your best not to listen in but your mind wouldn’t shut off.

“Gareth said you wouldn’t mind, I swear I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate,” she said, her voice too soft for you to hear anything after.

Eddie’s mumbled something. “-I owe you one.”

“Thank you so much! Can you pick me up around eight? I’ll wear the blue dress from the bar.”

“It’s a date.”

A date? Your heart stilled. Of course they were dating – she looked like his perfect match. Trying your best to ignore the sudden pressure in your chest, you looked around for something you could use as an excuse.

The bell to the front rang again and you shot up to your feet, anxiety ricocheting. Grabbing the first thing you saw, an empty folder on Keith’s desk, you walked out with your eyes on the ground.

“Oh, you just missed Clara,” Eddie said, “you met her at the bar last week.”

“Yeah?” You said, disinterested.

“She said to tell you that she’ll sell you her kidney if you give her the recipe for the muffins,” he said, smile growing.

Your eyes, however, darted to the muffin wrapper crumpled up on the counter. He’d given it to her? The knot in your throat grew and you nodded. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed and you just turned to the shelves. “Hot date?” You asked, like the masochist you were.

“You overheard?” Eddie asked with an anxious smile. Jesus, you cringed internally, did he need to be so in your face about it? “I’m a little nervous to go but, you know, at least this time I know I won’t be stood up. It’s all a joke anyway.”

Your blood froze. “What’d you just say?”

The front door rang again, Robin’s face coming into your peripheral as she yawned. “Hey guys,” she said, eyeing your clenched hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you really just say that to me?” You asked, a little disbelieving.

“Say what? That I might not be stood up?” He asked, confused.

It was getting hard to breathe, the anxiety bubbling up in your chest. You really couldn’t believe it - Eddie could be mean, rude, loud - but he was never cruel. You both had an unspoken rule never to talk about it, and he broke it.

Not able to keep the words down, they spilled out with vengeance. “Wow, you’re going to throw Homecoming back at my face now? After all this time?”

Eddie’s face morphed into confusion. “Homecoming? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Right,” you snorted, the painful memories floating to the surface. “I can’t believe I thought you’d changed. That you were actually going to be nice to me.”

“I am nice to you! What the fuck is going on?” He hissed.

Robin stepped up between you both, her hand coming up to you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“He’s what’s wrong!” You blurted out, the tension of the last few weeks spilling out. “You know what you did to me – I thought we agreed never to talk about it. Wasn’t it embarrassing enough?”

“What I did to you?” Eddie half-shouted.

Robin shot him a hard look. “Everyone, let’s calm down for a second-”

“Good morning,” Keith’s voice boomed in the empty store. Steve walked in behind him, brows raised, as he caught onto the tension in the air.

Oblivious, Keith strode towards his office. “I just need to grab something I left. I will let you both know -- I’ve submitted my notes to the senior supervisor and we should have our first employee of the month by tomorrow!”

Feeling like you were underwater, you grounded yourself with Robin’s touch. “Hey, look at me, what happened? What did Eddie do?”

“Nothing! I’m the one who looked like an idiot that day!” Eddie hissed.

You stepped back, as if he’d struck you, and you realized Steve’s expression had turned thunderous.

“Hey, dude, that was uncalled for. I thought we talked about this,” he said, moving to stand by your side.

“Talk about what?” Robin asked again.

“Ask him,” you said, pointing to Eddie. Turning to the back room, you scrambled to get your things, tears making your vision swim.

As you stalked back out, you saw Robin holding Steve back by the arm. Bypassing them both, you turned to Eddie, anger coming off you in waves. “I can’t believe you,” you snapped at him, “you - you can’t just joke about that night. Wasn’t it enough that you just fucking left me there? You knew how much I liked you. I can’t do this anymore. Hey Keith? I don’t want the dinner. Eddie and his date deserve it.”

Without looking back, you slammed the door open and all but peeled out the parking lot. The grip on your steering wheel was so tight you were sure you’d have bruises. As you made you way home, you let your mind wander back to that night.

“Just go ask him!” Anne urged you, her eyes sparkling. “Look, he’s alone right now!”

Your fingers fluttered nervously around the hem of your shirt. “But what if he laughs at me?”

“He won’t!”

“You don’t know that!”

Anne huffed exaggeratedly. “Oh my God, just go ask him!” She shoved you into the room and darted away like the traitor she was.

Eddie looked up, surprised at the sound of someone else in the room. When he saw it was you, his smile bloomed. Your stomach fluttered, anxiety doubling. You’d only recently started talking to each other, after your biology project together last semester.

“Hey you,” Eddie said, dropping the papers in his hand onto the table. “What are you doing here?”

Sputtering, you stumbled over your words. “Hi. I – uh-”

“Are you joining the dnd club?” Eddie asked incredulously.

“No – hey, wait why’d you say it like that?” You crossed your arms, nervousness forgotten for a moment.

Eddie’s hands shot up, brows smoothing. “I didn’t say it like anything!”

“I could be here for dnd,” you insisted, not sure why you felt so indignant about it.

“Are you?” Eddie asked after a beat.

Clearing your throat, you tried to hide your embarrassment. “Well, no…”

“I knew it!” He said, grinning smugly. “What can I do for you fair maiden?”

You watched Eddie go back to setting up for his campaign. Glancing at the time, you realized if you were going to ask him – you had to ask him now. Before any of his friends showed up. Besides, if he rejected you then you had all weekend to sulk about it.

“Um, are you going to the Homecoming dance?”

Eddie snorted and your heart sunk. “It’s Sadie Hawkins this year. Who’s going to ask me?” He said, completely unselfconsciously.

“Oh.”

His eyes turned towards yours and he blinked, surprised by what he found. “Are you...wait, are you asking if I’m going or asking if I’ll go with you?”

“I-I…” You wrung your hands together, anxiety bubbling. Maybe you should just leave…you could lie and tell Anne that he said he wasn’t going. Surely the girls wouldn’t force you to try again.

Something shifted in Eddie’s gaze and you suddenly felt a surge of courage in your chest. Squaring your shoulders, you nodded to yourself.

“Eddie Munson,” you said, “will you go to the Homecoming dance with me?”

After a beat of silence, Eddie’s blank expression morphed into a wide smile. “Really?”

“I…I really like you,” you admitted, mortification softening at the sight of his grin growing even wider. “I’d like to go with you. If you want to go with me.”

Eddie blinked.

“Eddie?” You asked, stepping closer when he didn’t answer.

He jolted, as if he’d been shocked and bobbled his head furiously. “Oh, yeah – definitely, like fucking absolutely.”

You brought your hand up to hide your laughter at his half-screamed reply. “Okay, um, cool,” you said, scuffing your cleats onto the linoleum floor.

“Do you wanna meet in the parking lot?” You asked. “Before the dance?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, still staring at you a little incredulously. You smiled at him and watched as the red flush traveled down his neck.

“Okay, um, so I’ll see you later?” You asked as you heard faint footsteps coming towards the room.

Eddie straightened. “Yeah, I’ll see you Monday.”

With a grin, you waved awkwardly and darted out the room. Before you could fully let the door close, you heard Eddie’s loud ‘yessss!’

Not able to keep in your laugh, you rushed over to the doors and saw Anne leaning against the frame.

“So?” She asked, perking up.

Grinning, you threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “I owe you a milkshake.”

Anne squealed and you laughed, following her towards your bikes.

--

“I don’t understand, you talked to him two days ago right?” Anne asked, her hands fluttering nervously. Her date, Mark, looked just as anxious. The dance had started an hour ago and upon not seeing you inside, Anne had come looking for you.

“Yeah,” you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “He kissed me on the cheek and said he couldn’t wait. I told him what color my dress was going to be – h-he said his uncle told him that was important.”

“Maybe something happened,” Mark added, eyes wide. “Like an emergency?”

Not having thought of that, you straightened. Anne’s hand almost knocked you in the face as she pointed towards a couple walking towards the doors. “That’s his friend, right? The one he plays with? Go ask him! Aw shit, I forgot my bag on the table. I’ll be right back.”

You whirled around to look at where she’d pointed and hurried over to him. His date, a pretty girl in red, tugged on his hand as you made your way over.

“Hi, um, Jeff right?”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, eyes glaring. “What do you want? He’s not here.”

Confused, you took a few steps back. “I know – I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was? I’ve been waiting-”

“He knows, okay?” Jeff said with a sneer. “He knows what you did.”

“What I did?” You asked, not sure what he was talking about. Jeff’s eyes drifted over your shoulder to where Mark stood at a distance.

Jeff’s eyes hardened. “It was all a joke – a stupid joke. I can’t believe you even showed up.”

Your heart plummeted to your feet. A joke? He’d accepted as a joke? But Eddie…he couldn’t have…

“Go back to your real date and do us a favor and stay away,” Jeff warned, walking past you and heading inside.

Frozen to the spot, you felt the tears spill over as a hand wrapped around your wrist. Anne’s frown swam into your blurry vision and she shook you. “What happened? Mark, what happened? What’d he say?”

“I need to call…I need to call your sister. Would she come pick me up?”

“Jesse? Yeah, she would. But what happened?”

Not able to speak past the lump in your throat, you burst into tears and Anne’s nervous hands fluttered over you. “Okay, okay – Mark, go call my sister. Tell her she needs to come back now.”

It was all a stupid joke. Of course, he didn’t want to come to some stupid dance. Not with you.

You called out of work for the week. At this point, you didn’t care if Keith fired you.

For the first few days, like clockwork, Steve and Robin took turns calling your house. Your sister had made it her job to speed to the phone before your mom, letting them know that you were sick and couldn’t come to the phone. She’d been too little to remember your middle school Homecoming but, you promised you’d make it up to her.

On the third day of your self-imposed quarantine, your mom brought you up some lunch midday. “You know,” she said quietly, her hand coming out to rub your calf. “The supermarket was looking for someone to work morning shifts. It’d give you enough time until you start your semester next year.”

“Thanks mom,” you said quietly, still wrapped in your comforter. “I’ll check it out.”

With a soft sigh, she pressed a kiss to your forehead and nodded. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

On the fourth day, you finally decide that you’ve moped for long enough. This was something you needed to move on from. How pathetic to still be upset over something that had happened in middle school?

Except it mattered to you, your mind added helpfully, because you really like him.

“Shut up,” you hissed at yourself.

“We didn’t say anything yet,” a voice behind you said.

Squealing in surprise, you instinctively threw the socks you’d been folding at the sound. The cotton bundles bounced off Robin’s chest and you brought your hand up to your face. “Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”

Robin rolled her eyes and walked into your room like she always did. Steve, a little sheepishly, waved and sat by your desk.

“How did you get inside?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Your mom when she was leaving for work,” Steve said, shooting Robin a look.

“I live a house down, I can see that you haven’t left yet,” Robin huffed. “Keith has us all on double shifts until you’re back Sunday, the least you could do is look happy to see us.”

“Well,” you grumbled, “I’m busy.”

“Super busy,” she said, motioning to the laundry on your bed.

“Robin…”

Her indignant expression softened. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you both hated each other over some stupid high school clique stuff.”

“To be fair I didn’t tell anyone.”

Robin’s arm shot out too fast for Steve to avoid it. He grunted as her knuckles hit his sternum. “You told Dingus!”

“To be fair, I was drunk and a little stressed post-Vecna win,” you turned to Steve for corroboration and he nodded.

“She was,” he snorted, “she puked in my mom’s rosebush.”

A flash of that night echoed in your mind. You winced. Jesus, you really needed to stay away from tequila. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you told Robin, “I asked Keith to keep me on closings. Just for a while.”

“You both can’t avoid each other forever. Eddie-”

Not wanting to hear his name, you put up your hand. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

Robin huffed. “But he said-”

“I don’t care what he said! He can date whoever he wants to date! This is such a stupid thing to be upset over anyway. I’m over it. It’s ancient history.”

You could see Robin turn to Steve. Catching his gaze with yours, you watched his eyes soften at whatever he found. God, you must look really pathetic if Steve looked like he wanted to wrap you in a blanket and hide with you. He shook his head. “Leave it alone Rob.”

She sighed, exasperated. “We can’t let this go on like this Harrington. They have to talk it out!”

“Robin.”

She sighed and flopped down onto the bed. “Fine. You’re both idiots.”

“Thank you,” you said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Robin frowned but let you change the subject to Keith’s newest blubber.

You’d made it an entire week of shifts without running into Eddie. Robin still grumbled when his name was brought up but she kept her word and let it go. Or so you’d thought.

Honestly, you should’ve known better. She was like a dog with a bone.

“Hey,” Robin bounded up to you as you locked the front doors. “Wanna see if we can catch the last of the festival?”

Checking your watch, you frowned. “We’re not going to make it. Doesn’t it close at eleven?”

“Yeah, but some rides stay open a little later. It takes a while for everyone to clear. Besides, it’s only in town for a few more days!”

You turned to Steve, who was swinging his keys around his fingers. He shrugged, his expression a little too casual. “We could pass by on the way home. I don’t mind.” Considering he was your ride, you nodded.

“Sure?”

It took you three another thirty minutes before you were all in Steve’s BMW, cruising down towards Waverly.

The entire park was dark, only a few rides lighting up what was clearly a deserted clearing. Robin, not one to ever be deterred, hopped out the car. “I think the Ferris Wheel is still on! Let’s see if we can grab some funnel cake.”

“Go ahead, I’ll follow,” Steve said, motioning towards a quickly disappearing Robin.

Wincing at the dark. “Am I the only one who’s retained a healthy fear of what hides in the dark after all our escapades?”

Steve huffed a laugh. “I don’t think Russians are hiding in there. Go on, you’re gonna lose her,” he nodded towards a bouncing Robin.

Hopping out the car, she beamed and immediately started towards the rides.

“Robin, I think the festival is closed now,” you huffed, trying not to lose her from your sight. She barreled forward, quick, and you were struggling to keep up.

“They said some rides stay open late,” she insisted, turning a corner.

Grunting, you jogged to catch up. “Jesus, what is the hurry-” your voice trailed off as you caught sight of the only illuminated ride. Robin was standing off to the side, her expression apologetic.

Eddie stood by carousel, his hands tucked into his pockets and his shoulders up by his ears.

“No,” you said, already turning around to head back towards Steve’s car. Robin’s hand caught you quickly, her grip surprisingly tight. “Is this a prank? Do you guys think this is a joke?” You asked Robin, feeling beyond hurt this time.

“Hey, no,” she said quickly arms coming to yours. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear. You know me.”

You did. Robin didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

“Just, hear him out? You don’t need to forgive him but he’s got an explanation. A stupid one,” she said loudly, and you watched as Eddie winced, “but I think you need to hear it to move on from all of this.”

“Robin…”

“Yeah, I’m not buying your whole – it was middle school, I’m over it, bullshit. Please? I’m going to be over there with Steve probably eavesdropping if you need me or want to leave at any moment,” she said, “Steve said he’s open and ready to punch anyone you need him to.”

“I punch harder than Steve,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Dustin punches harder than Steve,” Robin said, “it’s the thought that counts.’

You rolled your eyes, tears building at the corners. Glancing back to Eddie, you nodded. “Okay.”

Catching sight of Gareth, he waved weakly at you. Lifting a hand back, you ignored Eddie’s hand and climb up the steep stairs by yourself. “What’s he doing here?” You asked Eddie, your first words to him since that day in at the store.

“He’s doing me a favor and keeping it open for a little while later. I know you said you had wanted to come here,” Eddie explained, nodding towards Gareth who had moved towards the control station. You climbed into a carriage instead of a horse and sat.

Eddie, for a moment, looked like he was going to sit next to you but the withering glare you sent his way gave him pause. Instead, he made his way towards the horse next to your carriage and awkwardly stood by the pole.

“How long is this ride?” You asked.

“Three minutes.”

You checked your watch. “You’ve got three minutes Munson. What the hell is so important you orchestrated all this to get me here?”

He opened his mouth and you felt your anger flare all over again. “You know you really have some nerve,” you huffed, not letting him speak.

Eddie sighed. “Lightning-”

“-don’t call me that! I can’t believe you’d-”

“-I’ve been in love with you since middle school!” He shouted over you, chest heaving.

Shocked into silence, you felt your eyes widen and watched Eddie as his skin flushed.

“You were the nicest seventh grader I had ever met,” Eddie started, his voice straining to be louder than the music. “You were the star of the soccer team, fast as lighting. Anytime someone was mean to me, or my friends, you were always the first to come to my defense. You never said anything about my nail polish, our club, about the band t-shirts, or the shaved head.”

Eddie took a deep breath. “When we were sophomores and they announced that the Homecoming was going to be a Sadie Hawkins theme, I was crushed. It was the first dance we were allowed to attend and I had spent the entire first semester determined to finally ask you to go,” he said and ran a hand through his hair.

“I thought, there’s no way you’ll ask me. We’d done that project together but after all that time, I didn’t even think you knew my name. Then, that day afterschool, you came up to me and asked me to the dance. I couldn’t believe it. I think I must’ve told Wayne about it like a hundred times that week. He’d worked a few extra shifts to get me my first suit. I wanted everything to be perfect. Then, a week before the dance, Gareth and Jeff had overheard the soccer team talking about you betting over your dates to the Homecoming dance.”

Your brows furrowed and Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d decided I was going to confront you – because, there was no way you’d made a bet. You were nice – you wouldn’t do that. I had barely gotten to the field when I heard your friends mention how it was all a joke. ‘I can’t believe she took the bet to ask Eddie out to the dance,’ they all laughed and I got pissed. I wanted to find you and call you out on it.”

What? Why the hell would your team say that?

“Eddie, I-” He held up a hand and you frowned.

“Before I could find you, I ran into Brittney. Who, after realizing I was looking for you, told me that you’d never meant it. That it had all been a joke. So, as a completely and utterly heartbroken fifteen-year-old, I avoided you after that. You’d slipped that note into my locker about meeting me in the parking lot before the dance and I couldn’t believe you’d be so…well, cruel. I stayed home the entire night, playing video games with Gareth and Liam. You never said anything the next day after the dance, Jeff didn’t either – he says he’s sorry by the way - then you started dating the men’s soccer captain so I assumed…”

What the fuck?

“Wait Brittney?” You asked, confused, he nodded. You briefly remembered how much she’d hated you. “Brittney Johnson told you I had been joking? That bitch.” Oh my God, you were going to fucking strangle her the next time you saw her. Eddie looked more confused at your outburst but you urged him to continue.

“While I managed to avoid you successfully, you were always in my peripheral and you’re so fucking beautiful it hurt. So, when you popped up in the shack at Rick’s house with everyone else, it was just the safer option with what was going on to fall into the constant arguing. You argued back so I thought, this was safe. We could both let stupid high school shit go?

Then…well…you believed me. When I told you about Chrissy – when we went back down there, you fought next to me. You were there when I woke up,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes flashing.

“Then the whole best employee thing happened and uh, then it became apparent to me that maybe you had a different recollection of that week.”

Holy shit. You rubbed your temple as a headache bloomed at the base of your skull. You’d realized that the ride had long been over, both of you facing the lit Ferris Wheel.

Rubbing the tension building in your temples, you nodded. “Uh yeah. My friend Molly - the only other freshman on the team, had been bet by the other junior girls on the team that she wouldn’t ask out her crush, Teddy - a junior. She asked and he accepted but everyone was worried he’d find out it was a bet because they actually liked each other. That had nothing to do with me. Brittney was a jealous bitch because I'd managed to get captain over her and she knew how much I liked you,” you thought back to all those times in the locker room you’d spent with Jessica urging you to ask Eddie to the dance. “I'm going to rake her fucking eyes out,” you said to yourself.

Eddie blinked, looking dumbstruck. “So what you’re saying is that I stood you up for no reason. Because I’m an idiot?”

“An eavesdropping idiot,” you said through a disbelieving smile. “Although, to be fair, having Brittney confirm it for you probably didn't help. You should've...come to me. I don't - I didn't think you thought I was capable of something like that.”

“Right,” Eddie said faintly.

A little hurt, you kicked at the edge of the carriage you sat in. “I wouldn’t have done something like that – to anyone. I don’t… know why you thought I would’ve. I always saw how people treated you and hated it. I never let anyone on either soccer team mess with you or your friends. Even after...I was so excited to go with you - I thought you were really cool and sweet.”

“Sweet?”

The memory of the first time you’d talked to Eddie floated up to the front of your mind. “Yeah. After what you did in seventh grade…”

“What?”

You sighed. “I tripped in gym class and smacked my head into the goal post. I was mortified but you took me to the nurse’s office and stayed with me the entire period. You told jokes and made me laugh. I don’t know, I always sought you out afterwards. Besides, you know,” you said pointedly. You didn’t want to say it – he had to know.

He took a step forward, as if that would draw it out of you. “I really don’t and even if I did, I’ve had enough assumptions to last a lifetime.”

Not able to keep it to yourself, and tired of the misunderstandings, you shrugged. “You’re beautiful Eddie, how could I not have a crush on you? I thought…you did too until I was standing at the dance, in my new dress, with your friends letting me know you weren’t coming. That you’d never taken my offer seriously. Because who would want to go with some stupid jock?”

Eddie smiled before groaning and clutching at his temple. “Oh my god, I’m a fucking idiot.”

You shrugged, the lump in your throat growing. What a fucking mess. “Listen, its history, at this point. We had a massive misunderstanding, for years, and now we’ve cleared it up. I promise to try and stay out of your way-”

“No,” Eddie said quickly, “I don’t - I like being friends.”

“Is that what we were? Have we ever been?”

Hurt flashed across his face before he ducked his head and scuffed his shoe against the metal. “Do you think we could-”

“No,” you said quickly, your walls coming back up.

You had officially given up on this. This, whatever this was, between you two was too difficult to try and make work.

“Right,” Eddie nodded, eyes on the horse to your left, “that was a stupid question, sorry.”

Feeling the urge to comfort him, you clenched your hands into fists. “I’m not - I’m just, it’s a lot to process. I need to get my head on straight for Spring semester. I’m starting school and it’s been a lot with everything going on. I just…I need time. Maybe we can be friends for once.”

Eddie nodded dumbly, his eyes following you as you stood and made your way towards the steps. You turned to him and ask. “Why the festival?”

A ghost of a smile twitched at his lips. “You said you’ve been dying to go but had closing shifts almost all month. I thought, I might as well.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “I’ll…see you later.”

“Yeah, right,” he ducked his head and waved his hand. You stumbled towards the red BMW waiting for you in the parking lot.

“So…” Steve started. He grunted when Robin smacked him. “What? We're just going to sit in silence and pretend we didn't all hear that?”

Robin turned to look at you. “I'll egg Brittney's house with you if you want.”

Steve perked up. “Holy shit yeah, her brother is a piece of shit.”

You smiled, touched by their offer. “Let's just go to your house Harrington, you promised me a movie night.”

Steve huffed. “Does this mean you two are finally going to stop attacking each other?”

“Or that maybe you'll go on a date with him?” Robin perked up.

“Robin.”

“What? Like you weren't wondering the same thing!”

“I always knew he liked you,” Steve said.

“Yeah okay,” you snorted, finally joining in the conversation.

Robin laughed with you. “I did!” He insisted. “You should see the way he looks at you. It’s like he comes alive when you walk into a room.”

Your heart stumbled and you sighed.

“Dingus! You’re not making this any easier!”

“She asked!”

You let their bickering fade into the background, your conversation with Eddie swirling around in your mind.

“So,” Steve said, dragging out the vowels.

You glanced at him from where you were using his mom’s fancy mixing bowl for the cake you were baking. El had shyly asked you for the chocolate cake you’d made last year for Max’s birthday. Not one to ever say no to El, you’d set up camp at Steve’s.

Watching him struggle to figure out what to say, you sighed.

“Spit it out, Steven.”

“That’s not my name,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair, “now that we’ve all sort of put this whole Homecoming business behind us – I was thinking-”

Steve’s voice faded out as you thought back to the past week. It’d been incredibly awkward for the first few days, both you and Eddie avoiding each other as much as you could. On the third day, your regular shared morning shift, he’d brought you a coffee from your favorite bakery. The ice hadn’t completely melted, but it was warming up.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?”

Blinking away your busy thoughts, you shot Steve an apologetic look. “Sorry Steve, what’d you say?”

“I was saying,” he huffed, “since we’re all over this now, how’d you feel about going on a date?”

“What?” You said, completely taken aback.

Steve shrugged. “The girl I’m seeing asked me if I was interested in a double date. Her best friend, Sam I think, said he was up to it. I was going to say no but…thought maybe you’d want to?”

“I don’t know Steve,” you started.

“I just wanted to ask, especially considering that it’s been almost two years since you broke up with that meathead,” Steve snorted.

Rolling your eyes, you shot him a look over your shoulder. “You were friends with that meathead. It makes you a meathead adjacent.”

“I- don’t appreciate having my past drudge up that way,” Steve said, crossing his arms. You huffed a laugh.

“Where are you going?”

“Osteria da Fortuna,” Steve said, shrugging. “You and Eddie forfeited the dinner. I’m pretty sure it’s going to Robin who said she’d give it to me if I would go with her to a band party. I think her and Vicki might finally be going somewhere. Did she tell you about-”

You waved your wooden spoon in the air, effectively stopping Steve’s rambling. “What?” You said, some of the batter splattering onto the kitchen counter. “Did you just say Eddie forfeited the dinner?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, like a week ago.”

“What.”

Why the hell would he do that? You know why, a tiny voice inside your head said.

With a narrowed glance in your direction, Steve groaned. “Are you really not going to give him a chance?”

Not this again. “Steven.”

“Okay, hear me out,” he put his hand up, “I know. I know you’re hurt that he thought you’d be the type of person to prank him over Homecoming. I know you’re annoyed at this whole mess that could’ve been cleared up if both of you had managed to get your heads out of your asses earlier. But you didn’t.”

“I-”

Steve waved his hand. “Eddie was…is not everyone’s favorite. You know that. You’ve seen how the people we thought were our friends treated the people they thought weren’t worth it. He was fifteen. Are you that stubborn that you’re going to hold onto this from over five years ago? We’ve been through so much since then.”

“I don’t know,” you said, uncertain.

“Don’t kill me but, I think you’re holding on to this hurt because you’ve realized it’s easier. It’s always been easier to hate him, to do your little bickering thing. It’s easier to keep him at a distance because if you never let him in close again you won’t get hurt. But it’s been this long, you’ve both dated other people, and you both haven’t moved on. What does that say?”

You frowned. “That we’re stubborn immature idiots?”

“Yes and?”

You blinked.

Steve sighed. “You’re both so obviously into each other. Even when you’d fight, it was like foreplay or something. You both believed you had the right reasons to hate the other but you’ve both been hung up on each other. That means something. That’s not nothing.”

Letting Steve’s words sink in, you realized that he was right. Even when Eddie thought you’d pranked him, he’d always stuck by you. In the Upside Down, after every earthquake, he’d reached for you – arms steadying you as you fought your panic attacks.

He��d let you use his leather jacket when you were shivering from the lake water. He made sure you went through the gate first, his steady hands on your hips as you climbed. He’d made you eat a sandwich while you were all waiting for the party to get back from the gun store.

“Coming down from adrenaline is a bitch, trust me,” he said, nudging the milkshake in your direction.

He dove for you when the bats attacked, his body curled around yours as you both tried to buy your friends more time.

You thought of Eddie in the hospital bed, your hands interlocked. The way the dread in your chest wouldn’t lift until you saw his eyes open. Until you knew he’d make it through.

Jesus Christ, you still liked him. And you were doing what you always did. You were pushing him away. Even after he’d apologized and you hadn’t. Even after everything.

“Fuck you Harrington,” you said, standing and grabbing your keys off the table.

Steve’s eyes widened at your sudden departure. “Where are you going?”

“To the store!”

Barely taking a moment to lock your car, you stomped into Family Video. As usual for Thursday mornings, it was dead. Eddie was draped across the counter as Jeff and Eddie talked to him animatedly.

Slamming the door open, all three of them jumped and turned in your direction. Dustin, seeing your thunderous expression, darted away from the counter as you stormed up to it.

“What the fuck Munson?”

Eddie blinked at you, eyes wary. “Um?”

“Why the fuck would you forfeit the dinner?” You hissed, seeing Robin’s head pop out from behind the Comedy shelves.

“Because it wasn’t right,” Eddie stammered, “I didn’t want you to give it to me.”

“Are you serious?”

Eddie’s nervous expression morphed into indignation. “What did you want me to do? Go and enjoy it when you basically handed it to me?”

Throwing an arm out, you felt a headache starting. “Isn’t that what we’ve been fighting over? For almost two months!?”

“It didn’t feel right!” Eddie insisted.

What the hell did that mean? “Munson.”

Annoyance flashed across his expression. “I’m not – I don’t – I wanted to go with you. Okay?  Every time I picture the stupid fancy Italian restaurant all I do is think of you. Everything all the time always reminds me of you. It reminds me of your stupid smile, the stupid way you give me shit for everything, the way the scent of your stupid shampoo is engraved into my brain,” he shouted, “going alone would be pathetic. At least Steve will get some use out of it.”

Your brain slowed. Your shampoo? Shaking your head, you got back to the point. The idea of that dinner going to anyone but one of you felt wrong. “Go with someone else, the grunge girl.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to throw something at you. Livid, his eyes flashed. “She doesn’t matter. That ‘date’ we were going on was her ex-boyfriend’s wedding. She was invited and didn’t want to go alone.”

Ignoring the way that made your heart flip, you crossed your arms and gave into the petty feeling swelling in your chest. “Well, I saw you two at the bar. Clearly, there’s something there.”

Eddie’s hands shot up into the air, exasperated. “I wanted to make you jealous! She knew, she was in on it. That night at the bar, she was teasing me about how into you I was – because even she could tell. Everyone else besides you is painfully insignificant. Okay? You’re the only one that matters. Since I was twelve. I’m pretty sure the reason me and Amy broke up junior year is because even she could tell I was gone on you. Give me more than a week to try and get over that.”

Taken aback by his sudden confession, and unable to ignore that, your arms dropped to your sides. “Are you…trying to get over me?”

Eddie shot you contemptuous look. “Well, considering that I didn’t realize I was the asshole that stood you up all those years ago and you’ve hated me since then and the likelihood of you ever loving me back is close to nothing, yeah, Lightning, I’m trying to get over you. So, excuse me, if I don’t want to go to a stupid fucking restaurant and think of you the entire time.” His chest heaved like he’d just run a race and all you could think of is how much you wanted to kiss him.

“You love me?” You echoed, like a broken record.

“Oh my god, is that all you heard?” Eddie started a verbal rampage, his arms flinging around for emphasis. As you watched his animated speech, you realize how stupid this whole thing was. Steve was right. You were so used to being guarded, to the traumatic events that seemed to never end after Starcourt, that you were pushing away something important. Something that could good, and you were risking it over your own stupid fear.

This was it, you thought, the second chance you’d always secretly hoped you’d get despite your anger and hurt. You weren’t going to let this one slip away too.

Before Eddie could start on another tirade, you grabbed the edges of his vest, hauled him across the counter, and towards you.

For a beat, you could feel his confusion radiating off of him. You pulled him tighter to you, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips. As if struck, he surged forward to meet you, his own arms coming up to your forearms. He whined as you softly bit into his bottom lip before pulling back.

“Fucking finally!” Dustin cheered. Jeff shushed him.

Eddie, on the other hand, looked dazed as his eyes darted around your face. “Please tell me you aren’t messing with me.”

“I don’t know about love just yet,” you said quietly, “but, take me to dinner and we’ll talk.”

Eddie blinked twice before a slow grin grew on his face. “Italian restaurant? Tonight at eight? I heard some place called Osteria something is meant to be great.”

“I thought you forfeited it to Keith,” you said, laughing when he vaulted over the counter and settled his arms around your waist. He pulled you into another kiss and, this time, snipped at your lip. You couldn’t hold back the shiver it caused. The mischievous glint in his eyes let you know that he’d noticed. “Shut up.”

“I’ll give it back to you two!” Robin said eagerly, her eyes lighting up.

Eddie, without taking his eyes off of you, pointed in Robin’s general direction. “I’m naming my first born after you Buckley.”

Robin snorted. “Hear that, Lightning? Your first kid’s my namesake.”

Eddie flushed, his neck turning a little splotchy. “That’s not what I meant.”

With a swift, quick kiss, you couldn’t help but place a second kiss to his neck. You watched in fascination as his jaw clenched. “I mean, there’s no harm in practicing,” you teased, smiling when Eddie groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

“You’re killing me Superstar.” Eddie lifted his head after a beat, his eyes catching yours. “So, what do you say?”

You watched his eyes dart around your face, as if committing this moment to memory, and you let your own hand trail a line across his stubble. He leaned into your touch, his lips coming to kiss your palm. Your heart fluttered, threatening to break free from your chest. Steve was never going to let you live this down. But, as Eddie ducked down to catch your gaze, you raised yourself up higher to catch his lips a third time. That was going to get addicting quick.

“It’s a date, Munson.”

AN: I am so sorry the ending is so weak lmao but I had the first 75% of it in my drafts for months. It was starting to haunt me.

[trashcanfanfics]

i would like to ask an imagine ir headcannons about Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Vox and Blitzø when their s/o tells them "i love you" for the first time

I think I did something like this for Alastor and Vox in an overlord headcanon ask but I'll do them for Angel, Husk, and Blitz :)

Edit: I can't fuckin believe I forgot Husk goddammit

Angel Dust:

You were tired after a very long day of just trying to go to the store to stock up the hotel kitchen. Charlie had unfortunately made you the unlucky soul to go out to do it. You found it hard to hate her, but in this moment you disliked her extremely. The car you'd been loaned was stolen and you had to try and carry everything back on your own. No one from the hotel was answering their phone, except your boyfriend who was on the other side of the Pentagram for a show. So you were on your own and completely fucked.

Hours later, you've been in several fights over these groceries and hit with the car that was stolen from you, but you finally made it to the hotel. Up the steps and stumbling your way to the kitchen, you think about how to ease your aching body.

The groceries put away, and a new list for tomorrow to get the things you'd lost/went bad in the time it took to get home, you flop on your bed with a groan. A few minutes later you fell asleep.

You woke up to a commotion. Groggy, you sat up and winced at the ache in all of your limbs. The noises sounded distant, like it was in the lobby, but loud enough to rouse you from a fitful nap. You stood with a slight stumble to go see what it could be, and to possibly tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up.

On the stairs, you heard Angel's voice yelling and more angry than you've ever known him to be. Charlie's voice came softer, trying to mediate between the other angry voice. It seemed like Vaggie and Angel were going at it again. You made your way slowly down the stairs, wincing at the pain in your feet and knees from your little adventure today.

"You fucks! You sent them out to get some stupid fuckin' groceries and you don't even make sure they're okay after they called you so many fuckin' times!" All four of his arms were waving around and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. Vaggie looked ready to kill him again, and with a bit of shame mixed into her expression.

"Angel, I'm sure they're fine--" Charlie was cut off by Angel's yelling once again.

"They aren't answerin' their phone! None of you assholes have seen 'em! If they're so fuckin' fine then where the goddamn fuck are they?!" He stops a moment to catch his breath. "Where are they?" His voice changed from anger to desperation. His four shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. You cleared your throat.

"Uh, Angel?" You voice was rough from the nap. He whipped around, the movement causing you to sway with dizziness. "Woah..." Angel hurried over to you and grabbed you up in all his arms, squeezing you tight.

"Oh my god, I thought something happened to you!" He pulled back to look at you, your eyes tired, your limbs limp, scratches and cuts and forming bruises. "Why...Why are you so banged up?" You blinked and looked at him before shaking your head.

"I'm tired." You had barely said the sentence before Angel scooped you up and took you back upstairs. Vaggie's distant huff of annoyance and Charlie's "glad you're okay!" were the last things from the conversation as Angel took you back to your room.

Thanks for carrying me, babe." You were placed on your soft bed and Angel made quick work of taking off your shoes. He didn't answer as he went to the connected bathroom. You heard the faucet start before you saw him enter the room again. "Angel?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" His voice sounded angry, but in a hollow way. Not accusatory, not really. It sounded worried, haunted almost. He made his way to you and helped you out of your shirt. "I called you. A lot." Your heart ached worse than the rest of your body at the small tone.

"It was broken when some of the groceries were stolen." You pointed to the night stand, where you placed the broken remnants of your poor phone. Angel glared at it like it was the one to blame for everything wrong in his life. He helped you get out of the rest of your clothes and into the tub.

"Let me help." He grabbed a rag and cleaned your scratches and cuts. His hands were gentle and he apologized softly every time you winced. He helped dry you off and bandaged the worse of the cuts before allowing you to change into fresh underwear and pajamas.

You two were cuddled up in your bed. His arms gently around you and your head in his fluff. Angel had been soft and quiet this entire time. It made you think that he probably thought something more serious had happened. You thought about the last thing you said to him before he left to work. "Get going, bitch" wasn't what you would want to leave him with.

"Hey, you still up?" Angel only groaned in response and you decided to continue. "I want you to know that I love you." Angel only held you tighter at your words. You knew he reciprocated and you snuggled up closer before falling into a better sleep.

Blitz:

All day you wanted to talk to him. All day you waited patiently for him to be done with work. He just kept getting busy. You hadn't even gotten more than a "hi" with a small peck. Normally that'd satisfy you, you would be fine all day with that. Today was different. Today was exactly 666 days since you started dating. You'd been counting and wanted to do a silly anniversary like all the other dumb couples.

"I can't even be mad at him." You flopped on your couch. "He wasn't counting with me. This was just me being sentimental." You rolled over and curled on your side. It felt ridiculous to be upset about it. Childish. A ping from your phone dragged you out of your wallowing for a second. You picked it up.

Blitz Baby <3: Wanna get takout tnite

You: Are you asking a question?? Or is this you demanding??

Blitz Baby <3: Asking

You: Then yes ;*

Blitz Baby <3: ;* ;* ;*

You giggled, feeling a little bit better. Maybe you two could finally watch that movie you'd been wanting to for a while. A newfound excitement filled you. You loved things like this. Nights in, watching movies or playing games or even just talking. Simple, just you two. Intimacy in the best way. You're sure Blitz felt the same. He seemed to really enjoy both your alone time together.

The both of you communicated a time and decided to chill at your place this time. You'd gotten the food, cleaned up a little, got into the nicest comfy clothes you had. Everything was set and perfect and cozy. There was even a pillow fort and plenty of blankets. You were buzzing with excitement when you heard your phone pinged.

Blitz Baby <3: Mite hv t reshcedg som thn came up

You: Aw what?? :( Okay...

Blitz Baby <3: Gimme liek 30 min I try tmak it short

You: Okay

Somehow you knew this was going to happen. It always did when you wanted to hang out. Work took him too long, you had your own job, his thing with the owl prince. Too many things got in the way. But you were stubborn and had the attitude that if something wanted to take him from you, it'd have to pry him from your cold dead hands. Tonight that was kinda squandered.

Hours had gone by and still no sign from him. No text, no call, no knock on the door. Nothing. A part of you was worried something happened; the rest was just upset. Not at him, but the universe. You were laying on your couch, pillow fort taken down in a fit of sadness. Only a few pillows were allowed to stay to help comfort you. You put his food in the fridge and ate most of yours already. A little bit was saved because he liked to eat some of your plate like he liked to feed you some of his.

A knock at your door roused you from your almost sleep. You sniffed and rolled off the couch to head towards the door. Attempting to rub the redness from your eyes, you curse yourself for allowing yourself a small cry over some arbitrary thing you made up. A giant bouquet was shoved into your face.

"What the--!" You grab the offending flowers and look to the criminal responsible for the attack. There, stood in the hallway of your apartment building, was your boyfriend. "Blitz what the fuck? I thought you were busy?" His cat like grin grew on his face as he slithered by you into your apartment.

"Well, I was but, y'know." He went to the fridge and pulled out the food, popping it into the microwave. You grabbed your scissors to cut the ends at an angle only to find they'd already been cut. Blitz handed you a vase.

"You wanna watch a movie?" You put the water filled vase on the table and discard the wrapper on the flowers. "I've got that we talked about one in the dvd player already." The microwave beeped as he agreed with a hum.

"The flowers really go with the paint." They didn't but you appreciate the thought. You both left them to their vase and awful puke green wall paint.

The couch was still kind of warm from your sad wallowing earlier. You curled up to an arm on one side as he snuggled up beside you, feeding you bites every so often. Your arm was around his shoulders. The movie was some B-list horror about lake fungus coming alive and mutating the wildlife. It was probably some sort of message about saving nature or some shit, but it was funny and full of camp.

"I wanted to tell you something, by the way." You set your head on one of his huge horns. "It's kinda dumb."

"Yeah, so are a lot of things." He didn't move his head, but lifted up a forkful of whatever he was eating. "Shoot." You took the bite and chewed slowly, thinking over how you wanted to word this without sounding like the dumbest bitch in Hell.

"Today was a stupid little thing that I wanted to celebrate." You started. You felt him tense up. "It wasn't major, more like a fun thing that doesn't mean anything." You've said "thing" too many times. Abort! Abort!

"Well, what was it?" He finally moved so he could look at at you. You looked down and back to the tv. A breath or two and you thought more about what you wanted to say.

"It's been exactly 666 days since we started dating and I thought that was funny so I wanted to celebrate it like an anniversary." You stared at the credits rolling on the screen. "It doesn't matter, it was kinda dumb." You shrugged your shoulders. Blitz gently grabbed your face and made you look at him.

"I counted the days too." He admitted with a small smile, his brows knitted together. "It's kinda why I wanted to hang out today." He flops back into your side. You let out a small "oof". He fed you another bite of food before tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. The imp wiggled around to get comfy. You laughed a little and laid down so you'd both be comfy. Arms wrapped around each other, you couldn't be happier.

"I love you." You blurted after a few moments of silently tracing his white spot. Looking down, you saw Blitz already asleep. "Jesus Christ it's only been a minute." You let out a sigh of amused exasperation. That sentence can be used tomorrow to make it hard for him to leave for work in the morning.

Husk:

All day had been a living nightmare. You hadn't had the chance to sit longer than a minute at any given time. Charlie had her hands full with her and Vaggie's visit to the center of the Pride Ring. Some family reunion; the news was covering every appearance of another Prince of Hell and their immediate family. With the Pride Princess's attention elsewhere, she left most of the paper work to you. Today was full of talking with contractors and running around to get materials for the fixing of the Hotel. You'd been cussed out, smacked, overloaded, looked down on, and laughed at. In other words, you were overwhelmed and exhausted. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, maybe even cry.

Husk watched you run in and out the entire day. He'd seen how you looked worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. There was a pang in his chest every time you would do a half wave with a tired smile every time you passed him. He hated to see you so overworked. If he remembered correctly, Alastor was supposed to be doing half the work you were trying to juggle. Said asshole was smiling smugly in the shadows, watching you struggle with sadistic glee. Husk could feel the sticky air that hung around the red bastard nearby. It pissed him off, and Alastor knew it. That was worse.

"Finally done?" Husk grumbled out as you threw down a stack of paperwork you still had to do and sat on a bar stool. He glared at the documents. You sighed and laid your head on the cool, polished wood of the bar top. Husk winced at the way your back cracked as you went basically boneless. He poured you a cup of orange juice. A book somewhere said something about orange slices being a good idea after sports; this was the closest thing he had. The exhaustion on your face was heartbreaking as you looked at the glass.

"I don't want to exist right now." Your mumbled wish was emphasized by a small sniff. Husk put his clawed hand on your head and gave you a small scratch. You always did that when he was feeling down, maybe this could help you too. A small sigh of bliss was a good encouragement.

"What a heartwarming moment! I didn't think you had it in you, Husker!" The bane of your existence finally decided to show himself. You groaned at his loud voice interrupting the small bit of calm you were enjoying. The Radio Demon sat down next to you and threw an arm around your tired form.

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." Husk threw Alastor's arm off you. Static popped as Alastor fixed his hair nonchalantly. You gave your lover a tired smile of appreciation. His undead heart ached at the sight.

"Now, now, no need to be crass!" The ever smiling demon laughed, making you wince. Husk's ears flattened as his anger flared. "If they wanted to be left alone, all they'd need to do is ask." That seemed to be the final straw for the cat.

"The only reason they're too tired to even be near you is because you're an asshole who loves to watch people suffer!" Husk pointed a claw at the red menace. His tail thrashed behind him, wings puffed up to make him look bigger. "Not only that, you're even more exhausting today because of your fuckin' smug face. You know you were supposed to help them today but you enjoy causing people misery more than you like controlling everything so you decided to hide in the shadows like the piece of shit you are!" You raised your head at Husk's outburst, jaw hung open. You'd never seen your boyfriend so mad.

"Husk--" You tried to comfort or calm him down. The last this you wanted was for Alastor decide to torture Husk over one bad day. Alastor's smile grew more amused at every word. Husk's glare grew with it. The deer demon threw his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you to his side.

"Would you look at that! You see how your loverboy raises his hackles! What a show, don't you think dear?" His grip tightened on you as you tried to push him away. You didn't have the energy to tell him off today, nor the strength to shove him off his stool, it seemed. Husk growled.

"Get your. Fuckin' hands. Off them." Husk's words were said through gritted teeth. Alastor was about to say something but Husk hissed at him. You felt like you were sitting in the middle of a vortex. They were both staring each other down with an intensity you'd never seen before. Miraculously, Alastor let you go and stood up.

"Fine, fine, I suppose I should be getting to work, anyhow." And with a snap of the deer's fingers, he was gone, along with the paperwork you'd placed on the bar top. A sigh slipped from your lips as you placed your head back down in relief. You really thought you were about to witness Husk's second death. It took the last bit of energy you had.

"Sorry 'bout that." Husk rounded the bar and gently scooped you into his arms. "Didn't mean to make you feel worse." You only groaned in response as you rested your head against his chest. He carried you upstairs and to his room.

Husk's room was the same design as yours when you first got here. A standard red wallpaper with dark wood furniture, red sheets and dim lighting. He hadn't bothered to change it, other than some of your clothes littering the floor. There were a few knickknacks you'd given him, some from his apartment. He'd always act aloof or uninterested when you'd give him something in the beginning of your relationship, but you knew he liked them.

"Wait here." He gently placed you on the bed. You basically moaned as you sank into the soft mattress. He left the room and you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. You used this time to take off your shoes and get comfier in the bed. The weight of your eyelids caused you to close them.

Husk re-entered the room, the sound of the door clicking back closed making you open your eyes again. He walked over to you and offered the glass of orange juice from earlier. You smiled and sat up a bit to drink some of it.

"Husk." Your eyes blinked slowly before looking up at him with a slightly bigger, tired smile. "I love you." The words made him tense up. He looked at the lamp across the room, his tail twitched at the end and wings fluffed up then back down. You waited patiently for his response. He fidgeted a bit more before looking at you then back down at the half empty cup in your hand.

"You should sleep, you look exhausted." He gently too the cup from you and set it on the nightstand. You laid back down and he went to turn off the light and draw the curtains. It left you in near darkness. You tensed slightly when you felt him crawl up beside you, but soon relaxed. He pulled you into his gentle embrace and covered you both with a wing as his tail curled over your thigh. A gentle purr lulled you into a much needed sleep.

"Love you too." The grumbled words were the last thing you registered before rest fully took over.

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Kids Anger

Prompt: Kid and you have a huge fight, and in anger, Kid tells you to leave

~ Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Kid X Fem Reader X Killer

Killer watched the two of you fight as he often did. He learned early on which fights to step into to become the peacemaker and which ones to stay out of. You were yelling at Kid for going out of his way to fight a Marine ship and while everyone was alive, quite a few people were injured and the boat needed some major repairs. Even you had been shot in the shoulder during the battle amongst other injuries.

        “We won, didn’t we?! Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get off my goddamn back then” Kid was laying it on thick he was towering over you and it had been long since the rest of the crew made themselves scarce from your fight. Killer was in the corner leaning against the wall but you knew better than to try and get him to pick sides.

        “That’s not the point Kid. It was senseless, We got hurt for no reason, Not to mention the damage to Victoria Punk!” You were after all in charge of the crew's finances. A job Kid had given to you when he was too drunk to pay something off and it turned into plundering the entire village. We were never truly low on berries, Kid made sure of that, but you still would like to keep it above a certain threshold. “Nobody died this time but what about next time!?” It was another great concern of yours, Kid had already lost an arm and it took him god knows how long to wake up from that. It’s a sight you’d rather not relive.

        The two of you had been fighting for quite some time on the matter and neither side seemed to be letting up in this argument as both of you shot daggers at each other. “If I decide we attack that’s final. I’m you’re captain it shouldn’t matter what you think.” Kid slammed his fist into the wall right next to you. You tried not to flinch at the sudden and aggressive movement but couldn’t help but let out a little gasp, deciding to stare straight into his chest rather than make eye contact after such a weak display. “You can’t even fight, what do you even do around here to dare think you should even get a say in what I decide?!” Killer perks his head up at the sudden change the argument was taking. “A useless bitch like you should just stay out of the way” Your breath hitches at his word and you hear Killer yell Kid's name.

        You straighten your back, glancing up at your captain, blinking tears to stay away. His glare back at you is menacing and pissed, Your voice turns lower but unwavering, “If that’s how you feel..”

        “Feelings have nothing to do with this, facts are I let an absolute useless person onto this ship” His words dripping with venom that stung more than your shoulder, “If you can’t even listen to your captain's order maybe you should just leave.” It took a second for his words to sink in, waiting for him to retract his statement. But soon enough you whisper a fine under your breath before turning away and leaving the room. You could hear Killer starting his own fight with Kid at this point but it didn’t matter.

        You make your way to the captain's room, it’s where the three of you stayed after all, and start packing anything of yours that could fit into a single bag. You wince a bit as your shoulder starts to bleed from a sudden movement but still refuse to let tears escape. You look in the mirror once more, noticing just how tattered and covered in blood your clothes were, deciding to change into clean clothes one last time before continuing packing. Once the bag is full you head back to the deck and climb down a rope into the debris-ridden water below. You remember seeing a rowboat across the way from the now half sunk marine ship and you intended to use it.

~~~

        “What the fuck Kid” Killer gripped Kid's shoulder and turned him around as he could see y/n escape into the hallway, “What was that all about?” Killer couldn’t believe the words he had just heard from his captain and lover's mouth.

        “She fucken deserved it. What makes her think she can boss me around?” Kid was obviously still pissed beyond belief, huffing with anger in every breathe. He brushes past Killer, “If you need me I’ll be in my workshop.” Killer let out an exasperated sigh before trying to go find y/n on the ship.

~~~

By the time anyone had noticed you were gone, you had already found a row boat and started drifting away in the opposite direction of the ship.

Killer had told the rest of the crew to tell him when they find you but he had only assumed you needed some space after such a heated debate. He didn’t even bother to check the Captain’s Quarters, he doubted you wanted to be in such a place right now, if anything you’d be in a corner hitting the wall or a tight space to breathe and calm down. But as time went on, he grew increasingly more concerned at not hearing or seeing you.

Kid emerged from his workshop a couple of hours after the argument, cooled down a bit, and tired. The sun was long gone as he made his way to his room. In the past, your arguments could get out of hand but Kid could still find you angrily sleeping in his bed next to, or on top of Killer, begrudgingly making room for him. This time on the other, neither you nor killer were in bed, or even in the room for that matter.

He looked around to see your discarded clothes tossed on the ground and he noticed a lot more blood than he’d care to admit, had she been covered in this much when we were fighting? Regardless Kid turned on his heel to search for his two closest crew members.

Soon enough he ran into Hip who was carrying medical supplies, “Oh, Hey Captain. Have you seen y/n? She still hasn’t come to get patched up yet despite promising me she’d come later.” Kid stares at her for a second before she chuckles a bit, “Or did you take care of the wound yourself? How kind. Just remind her to change her bandages.” Kid stood there processing Hips words and she walked away chuckling. She was hurt? Why the fuck did she start a fight before getting treated? Kid started pacing the ship before he ran into an equally worried Killer.

“Kid have you seen y/n?” The taller blonde seemed to be anxious.

“Does it look like I’ve fucken seen her?” Kid snapped at his first mate, “Where the fuck could she have gone?”

~~~

You lay in the boat looking at the sky. The pain in your shoulder growing. You grit your teeth into some clothe as your fingers try to dig the bullet out. After another failed attempt you let out a painful, sorrow filled scream. You had realized a little to late into your little journey that when you were shot, the bullet never made it all the way through.

Truly, it was a great distraction from the events post battle. As you finally breathe in again you let your arm trying to dig the bullet out fall onto the floor of the boat. The adrenaline must have worn off at this point. The pain truly setting in as your mind wanders to what Kid said to you.

Finally, after hours of pretending to be strong. You let it out, you place your now bloodied hand on top of your eyes as the tears overflow.

[mt-oe]

I love ur workkkk 🥺🥺 … my heart melted

Can I request a mizu x reader in which reader was upset with mizu , and mizu trying to make reader feel happy with her ( I know I worded it poorly 😭😔. English is not my first language 😔). this can be sfw or nsfw. u write the spiciest nsfw stuff 😉

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm so sorry if this was WAY overdue. I'll try to make up for it by writing as best as I can <3

Also, please don't think too much about how you worded it. Trying to communicate your ideas, regardless of how you worded it, is already enough.

On an unrelated note, I am temporarily closing my inbox so I can catch up on requests. I wouldn't want to rush since that might compromise the quality of the fics. I deeply appreciate the messages and comments and would really like to answer them but I'm still too shy ;; I promise I'm really trying. Please don't get mad or disappointed in me. Thank you for understanding!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

Mizu has done a lot of things before. Her sword has known the blood of many, cut through numerous organs, and had seen death like it was the next door neighbor. The fights she had fought were more ferocious than what most warriors could stomach. With a will of steel and the mind of a tactician, a capable swordsman she truly was. But...

How the hell was she going to get through this one?

Cerulean orbs narrowed as she watched you, or more precisely, your back. Her gaze roaming from the tips of your hair to the way your back slumped. Your huffs and whispered grumbles were the only sound that could be heard from the room.

She could feel her palms sweating and her fingers running cold. Not a single coherent thought formed in her brain from how unnerving the situation was. For the first time in her life, she was faced with an opponent she did not know how to defeat.

And this opponent was strong. Not even the swing of her sword or the strength of her hands could quell the wrath and sheer rage of this enemy. Mizu knew she had to plan her next move well or this could cost her everything.

And this opponent...was her wife's anger.

Yes, the ronin who quite literally bit someone's nose, survived a fall from several stories high, burned down Edo, was utterly helpless under her lover's wrath.

"I said I was sorry. What else do I have to do?" she asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you to face her. A groan of frustration boiled at her throat as you shrugged her hand off harshly. "I said I was sorry. What else do I have to do?" you mocked her, imitating her low voice before sticking your tongue. "Go figure it out yourself! Hmph!"

This was so stupid, she thought. But despite the words in her head, she was utterly lost.

All this drama just because she missed a kabuki show that you wanted to watch?

Sure, you had told her ahead of time. Sure, you already planned it out. Sure, you were already at the venue. But it was just a goddamn stage play, what were you so upset about? There would be another show next week with the same story anyway, and if you were so excited to watch, you could have watched it without her.

So what was the big deal about it?

She rolled her eyes before standing up, looking at you in resignation. "Fine, sulk," she grumbled in response, to which you stuck your tongue out. She rolled her eyes once again before strapping her sword to her waist. "Talk when you're no longer acting like a brat." And with those words, she left, slamming the door and causing it to bounce open slightly.

Upon hearing her footsteps fading, you immediately let out a loud sigh. You turned to look at the spot where your lover had previously sat on with a sense of hurt. "But I wanted to go on a date..." you whispered to yourself, throat tightening.

This was one of those moments where you really just had to say, 'it is what it is', and pretend to not get hurt.

You knew Mizu wasn't the most romantic person on the planet. Hell, it was even a surprise that she asked you out. However, there were times when you wished you could open her head and shove some cheesy romance novels, because how the fuck did she not get that you were asking her out on a date?

Urgh.

"What am I even expecting?" you asked yourself out loud, bringing the tickets you had bought for both of you. Tickets that were wasted just because she thought training and buying supplies were more important than spending 4 hours watching a play in a theater with her wife. "Maybe next time I'll just watch her train."

You love her. Of course you did. And you knew she loves you too, but sometimes her inability to understand or express romance made you question it.

Slowly and painfully, you tore up the tickets and fed it to the candle flame, watching as it turned to ashes. Welp. There goes your idea of a romantic evening. "And I planned it for so long too," you sighed as you brought your knees to your chest.

Unbeknown to you, your wife had secretly sneaked back, sitting beside the small door crack she had intentionally made earlier. A small frown on her face as she realized how much she fucked up.

You were right.

You did plan it for a long time. She could see your eyes widen every time the two of you passed by the theatre whenever you went out for supplies, filled with excitement that she couldn't understand then. And you already told her early, so it wasn't like it was out of the schedule or out of the way. Most of all, you were already at the venue.

You were waiting for this for such a long time.

You were waiting for her for such a long time.

And she wasted your efforts. She somehow thought that what you were so eager for was something she could trade for a few hours of extra training.

Guilt welled up in her as she continued to listen to your sighs, peeking inside the room every now and then to make sure you were okay. Her heart clenched in an odd, unfamiliar, yet extremely uncomfortable way at the sight of your frown.

Damnit. Mizu knew she messed up big time. However, even if she felt absolutely terrible, she also knew she couldn't just come back in and reveal that she had just watched you go through five stages of grief in less than an hour or else you'd feel like you forced her to apologize. But how could she make up for this?

As she was deep in thought, thinking of ways on how she could apologize, she suddenly heard the soft padding sound of your feet on the tatami mat as you stood up. "I guess I'll take a nap. Maybe I'll feel better when I wake up," she heard you sigh for the umpteenth time.

Her eyes watched you stretch before pulling the futon out of the closet and set it up. Your hands carefully undid the pins stuck to your hair before laying down, pulling the covers over you, the frown you wore never dissipating.

She could feel her conscience weighing down on her, telling her what a dense idiot she was. The feeling hitting her like a ton of bricks as she watched you slowly fall asleep with a heavy heart.

No, she wasn't going to let your day go on like this. If she fucked up, she's fixing it up.

Slowly and carefully, she got up and sneaked away, leaving the inn and going to the market. No matter how unexperienced or how unknowledgeable she was with how to comfort a person, Mizu was going to try her best.

-

Hours passed and the short nap you had planned turned into one of the longest one you've had yet. It wasn't a pleasant one, but it wasn't the worst either. Your eyes slowly fluttered open before squinting at the faint glow of the candle. The world felt slightly heavy and tilted as your head spu—wait? The candle?

"Oh shit," you whispered, shooting up and looking around in panic, head still spinning from grogginess. Oh no, you forgot to blow out the candle before your nap and accidentally kept it burning. Mizu was going to pissed at you, especially since it was the last one.

But wait—

Shouldn't it have burnt out already?

You brought the back of your hand to your eyes, rubbing away the sleep and grogginess to have a better look around. However, upon looking up, surprise took over your senses.

The room was...decorated?

Or at least there was an attempt.

At a distance from the foot of your futon sat your lover with a wooden crate in front of her. A bit of relief washed over your body as you realized that she had taken care of the candle for you, but still, you were heavily confused. "Mizu...what's going on?" you asked, yawning a bit.

She looked at you with the same emotionless stare she had before sighing. Her hands slowly turned the crate around so the opening was facing you. It was decorated too, and even if it was poorly recreated, you could recognize the setting. It was very similar to the kabuki theater you wanted to go to.

From her back, she brought out two dolls. One wearing a kimono in a color similar to what you were wearing, and one male doll that looked like a samurai. A heavy exhale could be heard coming from her as the embarrassment started kicking in. Was she really going to do this? Yes, yes she was.

Clearing her throat, she moved the dolls to the makeshift stage as she began her narration. "Once upon a time, in a small village, stayed a ronin and her wife." She glances momentarily at you before looking down again, a faint dust of blush on her cheeks. "Her very beautiful wife," she clarified.

Your eyes widened with a mix of delight and surprise. The grogginess from your sleep wore off at the sweetness of your lover's effort. You couldn't believe it. It was a stage play. A stage play about the two of you.

Her hands moved the dolls on stage, making them hold hands as she narrated the events in the story. "But one day, the ronin, being very foolish, decided to go up in the mountains and train instead of accompanying her wife," she said, dolls moving to match her words.

"And her wife..." she continued, moving your doll to look like it was sulking, "...got very upset." Blue eyes looked at you once again to check if you were still watching. You could tell that she was being very sincere about this.

"Not knowing what to do, the ronin went out to think and realized that she was indeed wrong and had been inconsiderate, that her wife was really just trying to bond and spend time in merriment."

She slowly set the dolls down and readjusted, sitting up straight before bowing her head slightly. "And so, the ronin apologized," she said with all seriousness. "I'm sorry, love. I knew you wanted to go out for so long. I should have appreciated your efforts more. I have no excuses."

Silence embraced the room after, completely amplifying the pounding of her heart as she awaited your response. Jitters ran through her body from nervousness. Mizu didn't dare look up, not until you gave her a response.

Seconds felt like minutes as she waited. An unexplainable kind of anxiety holding over her. What if you didn't like the little show she put? What if she just made your anger worse? Her thoughts were scattering by the millisecond. She wanted nothing more than for you to forgive her.

Her heart stopped as she saw your hands reach for the dolls, looking over them before making your doll face her doll.

"And the wife accepted the apology," you giggled, bending your dolls head slightly so it would kiss the representing her. Before she could speak, she felt your lips on her cheek. The sweet sound of your laughter soon followed, making her blush.

You lifted the dolls up to eye level and looked at them fondly. "You really went out and beyond, didn't you?" you laughed, wiggling them around in some form of cuteness aggression. She lifted her head and smiled softly. "I didn't know what to do," she admitted, finding your fondness for the dolls adorable. "And I really wanted to go back to my wife."

"You could have just said sorry, dummy. But.." your voice trailed off, eyes looking back at your wife's, leaning closer to her. "This made me unbelievably happy," you admitted. "Thank you, love."

Your wife's smile widened as you leaned in and kissed her softly. Her hands instinctively pulling you closer. Love and affection radiated from her as both of you pulled away, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. Her breath hitched as you opened your mouth, anticipation building up regarding what you were going to say.

"But next time you do that, you're sleeping without a futon."

"Yes ma'am"

[macfrog]

hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???

(rly hoping there was 😌)

ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.

compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.

she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.

hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –

you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.

at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.

doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.

“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”

you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.

his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.

he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.

“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”

“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.

you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.

something twitches beneath his belt buckle.

joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”

you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”

he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.

but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”

“’s already pretty hot.”

“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”

“they say that every year.”

you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.

and it’s working.

“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”

“mhm?”

his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.

when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.

christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –

“joel. hellooo?”

you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.

“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”

“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”

he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”

he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.

you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”

“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”

“works for me.”

“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”

he’s gone before he hears your response.

too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.

you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –

oh, fuck.

he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.

joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.

he looks down, and – fucking hell.

his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.

his hand lifts, curving around air.

shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.

he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.

once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.

you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.

he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.

he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.

the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.

before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.

and quickly.

he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.

he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –

“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.

you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.

fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.

what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.

but – fuck, he’s close, right now.

“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”

it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.

“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.

his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.

he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.

and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –

it will never happen again.

[envysparkler]

“Got Scarecrow,” Nightwing chirped through the comm, accompanied by a stream of mad rambling about worst nightmares and reliving terror that thankfully cut off when Crane was passed off to the police.

“Everyone, report,” Bruce ordered, finishing with the zipties around the hands of the last of Scarecrow’s thugs.  The battle had been hectic, and Bruce had lost sight of all his children during the melee.

“Nightwing, heading away from the police, no injuries.”

“Robin, southwest corner, no injuries.”

“Robin, you have a sprained wrist,” Nightwing chided.

“No injuries,” Robin snapped.

Bruce suppressed his sigh and dropped down to the alley where his eldest and youngest were bickering.  “Red Robin, report,” Bruce reminded across the comms, before kneeling to check Robin’s wrist.

It was sprained, and Bruce called the Batmobile to their location instead of letting them grapple back to it, ignoring Damian’s pointed huff.

“Red?” Nightwing said warily, and Bruce felt an icy curl of dread in his stomach.  “Red Robin, check in.”

No response.

“Who last had eyes on him?” Bruce asked, heading back into the warehouse and ignoring the police picking over the scene.

“I lost him at the start, I was trying to stay close to Robin,” Nightwing said, following him.

“I saw Red near Crane,” Robin huffed, “The next time I looked, Crane was alone.”

“Red?” Bruce called again, scanning the warehouse for any hint of red-and-black in the shadows, his unease growing stronger.  Crane had been raving about the prototype of his new toxin, had Red Robin—

A ping sounded, and Bruce pressed the button to connect to whoever was trying to reach him—had Red Robin’s comm been accidentally disconnected during the fight?

“Will someone,” Jason’s growl cut through the comms, “Tell me how the hell—” he sounded furious, and an alarm started blaring in back of Bruce’s head—“The Replacement knows where I live?!”

“Hood?” Nightwing froze, twisting to look at Bruce—he didn’t need to see past the mask to know that Dick’s eyes were wide and worried.

“What is Red’s status?” Bruce asked, wincing when it came out more like a demand—Jason’s temper was fickle at the best of times, but if he was already in a bad mood, then Bruce was one misstep away from waking up to see half of Gotham levelled.

“He broke into my safehouse while I was sleeping,” Jason snarled, “What do you think his goddamn status is?”

Not good.  Very not good.  They had all breathed a sigh of relief when Jason decided to stay off patrol due to his broken ribs, and doubly so when they received word that Crane had broken out of Arkham.

“Hood,” Bruce tried as they exited the building—Jason had safehouses scattered all over Gotham, and Bruce was sure he didn’t know about half of them.  “Where are—”

“Robin?”  That was Tim’s voice, echoing oddly through the line.

“The demon brat’s bedroom is on the other side of the city,” Jason snapped, and Bruce registered the too-fast breathing and desperately wished he was standing between his sons.

“Hood, Red might’ve been hit with fear toxin,” Bruce managed to get out, but it didn’t do anything to calm Jason down.

“So, what, he came here to finally finish off the big, bad Hood?” Jason sneered, and it was difficult enough to talk Jason down when he was standing in front of Bruce, Bruce had no idea how he was going to do it over the comms.

Jason, stop he discarded.  Wait, Jason listen except Jason wouldn’t definitely not listen.  Jason, please but Jason would take offense at that.  Don’t murder your brother was unlikely to be received well.

“Hood, just tell us where you are,” Nightwing tried, “We’ll get him out of your hair, I promise.”

Jason inhaled sharply and Bruce inwardly winced, waiting for the diatribe—

“Robin,” Tim sounded distant and choked, “Help.  Please.”

Damian jolted forward, visibly surprised.

Jason’s connection closed with an audible click.

Bruce stared at Nightwing and saw his own trepidation reflected in his son’s face.

~#~

It took them twenty minutes.  Twenty minutes of Oracle hacking the security cameras to figure out where Tim had fled, twenty minutes to confirm that one of the prototype vials of fear toxin was missing, twenty minutes to listen to Crane’s cackling about trapping people in one of their worst memories.

Between Tim and Jason, there was enough past trauma to cause several murders.  Everything about Jason’s past was a landmine, and while Tim was usually good at navigating it—better than Bruce, at any rate—he would be oblivious while trapped inside his own head.

Finally, Oracle managed to catch Tim slipping into a side street in Crime Alley, and not appearing out the other side.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Nightwing murmured as they followed the coordinates, “You know how protective Jason is over his safehouses—”

“When Hood stops being an insane murderer, he can have his privacy back,” Robin snapped.

“Come on, baby bat, Jason won’t actually hurt Tim,” Nightwing said quietly, “He just needs some time to calm down and get out of his bad mood.”

“Drake is currently drugged and vulnerable, it would be the height of foolishness to place your faith in his continued survival in the hands of Todd,” Robin sneered, taking the fire escape down, and Nightwing shot a startled glance at Bruce before following after him.

Jason’s apartment was the third one Bruce checked, and he felt the tension in the air as the window slid open with a near-soundless squeak.

“Get out,” Jason said, voice low and rough, before Bruce had even cleared the threshold of his room.

“Jason,” Bruce started, slow and quiet, but Jason cut him off.

“Get out,” Jason snarled, but his voice cracked halfway through and Bruce stepped inside the bedroom, alarmed.

“Jason?” he called out, finding the curled up figure in the shadowed corner.

“You found him,” Nightwing said breathlessly, and Damian shoved past him with a terse, impatient sound.

“Get. Out,” Jason snapped, his breath…hitching.  He sounded like he was crying.

Bruce immediately turned to find the lights.

Jason was sitting, back pressed to the corner, with Tim in his lap, head pillowed against his brother’s chest.  The mask was gone, as was the cape, and Tim blinked open half-closed eyes at the sudden emergence of the light.

Jason was hunched protectively around him, a glare already forming on his face, but there were splotches of color on his cheeks and his eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“Robin,” Tim breathed out as soon as he saw Damian, reaching out a hand.  Damian stared at him, clearly taken aback, but shuffled forward until he was close enough to touch.  Jason watched them both with narrowed eyes.

Tim made a half-lunge forward, snagged Damian’s cape and dragging the younger boy into an embrace as he curled back into Jason.  Damian squawked, but Tim was holding him too tightly—Damian would have to break something to get out of his grasp.

They could all see the exact moment that Damian realized this and subsided with a scowl.

[mrzombielover]

- slow ride ch2

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter (wip)

warnings: NSFW, more substance use in this one, a bit of angst?, readers emotional issues

a/n: i feel like my writing sucks esp in this chapter cause im sorta rusty and sick so i cant even tell if this makes sense but oh well😭😭😭 anyway pls send me hazbin reqs!!!!! having the worst brainrot lately esp for this horrible man!!!

wc: 2.9k

“I'm not breaking up inside / I'm much to proud to moan / Baby, please come home”

Oh my god. What did I just do? Why did I do this?

You turn your head to look at Adam where he’s lying on the other side of the bed, and find his expression closely mirrors your own. Pure disbelief is written on his features, and you grimace, turning to look back at the ceiling.

After a moment, you sit up, grabbing your box of cigarettes and a lighter off your bedside table. Once lit, you swing your feet off the bed to reach for shirt and now ripped panties, standing up when you’re partially dressed. You hear Adam sit up behind you.

“Soo, that was… uhhh…” He trails off, mouth hanging open as he thinks of what to say.

“Let’s… not speak about this again,” You say carefully as you turn back to face him.

“Yeah. yeah, i’m good with that,” He says quickly, finding his robes off the floor. You’re surprised he doesn’t say anything about the smoke.

You cross the room to get your pants off the floor, pulling them up as Adam grabs his jacket. You pull up your fly, and look up to see Adam’s staring at you with an expression you can’t read. His eyes flicker to your lips, and he starts to lean closer.

“Kiss me and i’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out,” you say as you turn your head away.

“Oookay then. I’ll, uh, see ya,” For once, he has no snarky comment or crude joke to make as he straightens up and leaves your room.

After that, you told yourself never again. It happened once, it’s out of your system, it’s done. A one time thing.

But then it happens a second time.

“It’s a disgusting habit! All your clothes, your whole room fuckin’ reeks!”

“Are you tryin’ to get me to loose my temper here? ‘Cause i’m about to shove you out that fucking window!”

“And look how angry you get, you fucking fiend, it’s been like 2 hours!”

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business?”

You raise an arm to hit him, but he catches your elbow, twisting you around so your back is to him and he can hold you in place. You struggle to break from his grip, when suddenly-

“Oh my god,” You deadpan, but your voice doesn’t come out as disgusted as you expected at the feeling of something hard poking into your lower back.

“Okay, this is not my fault-“ Adam says quickly.

“You- fucking perv!” You spit, but your words hold no weight when he flips you again and lifts you up, placing you on the counter and you make no effort to struggle. You spread your legs so he can slot between them as items pushed out of the way cascade off the counter, falling to the floor with loud crashes.

You then told yourself that would be the last time. But not even you fully believed yourself. And once it happened a third, fourth, and fifth time, you just accepted this is something that happens now. You’re not proud of it- some of you hates yourself, but another part of you finds a a sick, primal pleasure in it. It’s the only guaranteed way for you to get him to shut up, if only for a few minutes. The fight for dominance- fuuck you’re messed up, huh?

Thinking of the humiliation you’d feel if any of the others found out- oh god, how could you look Alastor in the eyes again- you change absolutely nothing about your behavior around Adam. On the surface, nothing has changed at all. You two still bicker and argue all the time, if anything, worse than ever. Yet the other members can feel something’s up, that something changed. Adam’s insults feel more hollow. He always said shit just to rile you up, but there was usually an undertone of truth to his words. Not anymore- it’s all stupid shit that everybody can tell he doesn’t care about. Nobody says anything about it, though, until-

“What the fuck are you smilin’ for?” Angel’s voice makes Adam jump as he enters, sitting down on the couch beside him.

“What-? I wasn’t smiling,” Adam quickly denies. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh my god- are you’re gettin’ laid?” Angel grins, sitting up. The look on Adam’s face tells him everything, and he can’t help but laugh. “Oh, you so are! No wonder you’ve been in such a good mood lately,”

“Uh, duh i’m getting laid, I’m Adam, I’m the origin-“

“Yeah, yeah, original dick. But that’s not what I mean and you know it.” Angel grins widely, and Adam can feel his face heating up. Oh god- why is he blushing? Since when does he care? He pushes the thought from his head.

“…You don’t know her,” Adam decides to say, crossing his arms and turning back to face the TV, hoping Angel will just leave it at that.

“Try me,” Angel leans closer, looking intently at Adam’s expression. When Adam says nothing, Angel laughs again.

“Oh my god I so know her,”

Adam grits his teeth but says nothing as Angel laughs.

“Okay, fine, don’t tell me who you’re havin’ weird secret kinky sex with,” Angel shrugs, turning to face the TV. “I’ll find out eventually,”

That makes Adam sweat.

You can’t help but laugh, nearly spitting whisky everywhere while Husk chuckles to himself. Sure, it’s a bit trite, ranting to the bartender about your shitty day while he pours you a stiff drink, but Husk could always make you laugh about it, and call you out on your bullshit if needed. He was real, and you liked that about him. Plus, it beat drinking alone when none of your other friends wanted to party on a Wednesday.

“-and not a crazy bitch like I’m a crazy bitch, crazy like she lit her mom’s hair on fir-“

“Husk holy shit!”

Both of you look in the direction of Angel Dust’s voice as he runs from the hallway towards you both. He leans over the bar, eager to share whatever news he had.

“Adam’s fucking somebody- somebody here!”

You choke on your whisky, spitting it back into the glass. Angel and Husk both look at you with a raised brow.

“My bad,” is all you say. you can’t think of anything else that would play it off, so you just quietly wipe off your face while Angel recounts his encounter with Adam. You feel an eye twitch- you could strangle that prick for being so conspicuous.

“You’re quiet, Y/N,” Angel says in a teasing tone.

“I just could not care less if I tried,” You say back, firmly but with a shrug, and you hope it suffices as an acceptable explanation, and that you come off as your usual apathetic self. You finish your whisky, and luckily, Angel doesn’t give you any more shit. Slightly unsettled by that interaction, you avoid Adam for the next few days.

Late one evening, everybody’s gone up to their rooms and the hotel is quiet. You’ve already eaten, smoked, brushed your teeth and put on pajamas, but there’s nothing good on TV and you’re bored and high and just want a task to keep busy. So you wander aimlessly into the kitchen and find yourself doing the dishes that Charlie was too stressed out to do earlier.

As you scrub brown charred bits off a pan, you find your stupid weed-addled brain wandering to Adam. You haven’t fought with him in a while, mostly because you’d run away before he had the chance to start, but still. It feels weird, being so calm lately. No wonder you’re bored. It’s the way things used to be at the hotel, before he arrived. You guess you hadn’t realized how used to his presence you’ve gotten. Gross. You cringe at the thought.

Luckily, your phone starts to vibrate on the counter, giving you a distraction. You pick up and hold it between your ear and shoulder without looking at the caller ID.

“Yo, where are you right now?”

Of course.

“Adam? What the fuck, when did you get a phone?” You snort. When you realize you’re smiling you clear your throat and force your face to relax.

“Whatever. Can you come upstairs?”

You pause. He sounds slightly odd.

“What, like, to your room?” You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

“ohmyfuckinggod- can you not be difficult for fucking once and just do what I ask?” Then, as an afterthought, he adds “Please?”

Damn, okay. You don’t say anything for a moment, thinking maybe you’re just smacked and he’s being normal.

“Suuuure… Just uh, gimme a minute,” You say carefully, putting the dishes down. Then, he hangs up on you. What a dick.

Unbeknownst to you, while you’ve been thinking about him, he’s been thinking about you way more.

You’ve been avoiding him- obviously. Not unexpected, but it pissed him off to no end. He’s fucking Adam! Who are you to ignore him? Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on him, anyway?

By now, the others have started to accept him- including them in their plans, drinking with him, no longer leaving a room when he enters- so he doesn’t really need a chaperone anymore. Despite this, it still feels wrong. Even in a room with every other patron of the hotel, he’d started to notice when you weren’t there.

He didn’t even notice he was starting to miss you at first. It wasn’t until he and Charlie were seated at the bar, and he drank more than he probably should have, that he mentioned you were avoiding him.

“What’dya, miss her?” Husk asked.

“Awww, Adam!” He still remembers the look on her and Husker’s faces. “You are starting to change! That’s so sweet of you!”

And then because she was drunk she kept rambling about it for like 30 minutes, but he doesn’t remember the rest of what she said, just the utter humiliation he felt. He shut up for the rest of the night to avoid spilling his guts any more, but Husk- the annoying fucker- still gives him knowing looks every now and then.

And after Nifty had washed his sheets, and he’d noticed that his pillows lost the scent of cigarettes, perfume, and shampoo you’d left behind, he knew he was royally fucked.

The worst of all, though, is that he feels helpless to feeling these emotions- and even worse, he doesn’t want to stop feeling them. Before he’d even noticed it, he was thinking about you all the time, and he was fine with it. The embarrassment was killing him, even though, supposedly, nobody knew.

On this particular night, he’d probably had just a tad too much beer with his dinner, because when he’d returned to his room and flopped on his bed, there was a little bug in the back of his brain that kept whining about how empty it felt. He tossed and turned for a bit, just wanting to sleep it off, but he eventually gave up, reaching for his phone.

“Adam?” Before you’re finished knocking, Adam jumps up to get the door, pulling you inside quickly. You make a noise of surprise as he scoops you up immediately, not saying anything as he carries you to his bed.

“Damn, needy, huh?” You laugh. This time, it’s him telling you to shut up as he tosses you onto the bed and crawls over you.

You sit up slightly to help him get your shirt off, and then his lips are on your neck, trailing down to your chest as he unclips your bra.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” He says with a casual shrug as his hands run up your torso to grope at your tits.

“mm,” You hum, arching your back into his touch. “missed this?” You smile sarcastically. Missed you, he thinks.

“Sure missed these,” He pushes the thought away and grins back, squeezing your chest for emphasis. He pulls back briefly to rid himself of his own shirt, then bends back down to press more kisses to your flesh. He looks up, staring at your expression as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, reveling in the whimper he’s rewarded with.

“fuckin’ perfect tits…” He mumbles into your chest before nipping at your skin. You let your eyes shut as his free hand slides down, under the band of your shorts and his finger brushes the hot skin beneath, skimming over your lips. Adam thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat.

Impatiently, you shift your hips up to slide off your shorts and panties, then reach to tug at his belt loops to signal he should do the same. When he looks up and sees the desperate look on your face, he decides not to keep you waiting, and pulls back to rip off his pants and boxers.

You guess avoiding him these past few days has affected you, too, because you’re surprisingly desperate. You sit up, wrapping your fingers around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever he had been planning to say dies and comes out a needy garble of nonsense that makes you snicker.

To your surprise, he has no quip as he crawls over you and pushes himself between your legs. He bites back a gasp when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a groan following a moment after as he begins pushing into you.

Your thighs are trembling by the time he’s fully inside of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist weakly while you adjust to the stretch.

He sits up fully, and from this view, you look stunning. The way you're laid back on his pillow, tears pricking in your eyes, he thinks you look more angelic than anything he ever saw in heaven.

“fuuuck,” He groans, letting his head fall onto the bed as he starts to move his hips.

“Adam!” The way you whine his name is truly sinful, and he feels his dick twitch in response.

“holyfuck, ‘s so big,” The slight burn makes you regret your impatience now, and his face makes you regret stroking his ego. You make a point to ignore his self satisfied laugh, focusing instead on how his cock stretched you open, making you to tighten and release around him. You turn your head, looking at his wicked fucked-out smile that grew wider and wider as his movements got deeper.

You can’t speak, you just moan helplessly as your hands search for anything to grab onto to steady yourself. You throw your hands around his neck and bury them in his now dark wings, in the way you always did. You gripped the feathers tightly and let out a moan and oh, god, he’s not going to last long, he thinks, with you gripping the sensitive feathers like that. He groans again, then his lips find your shoulder, where he leaves messy, open-mouthed kisses trailing towards your neck.

“so fuckin’ sexy, so, so good for me,” you barley even register that he’s speaking, with your entire focus being on the way he moved in and out of you.

“you’re- so beautiful,” he says between grunts. your eyes widen.

“wha-ahh-“ before you can question that, a particularly hard thrust makes the words die in your throat, and you’re clawing to his biceps again.

A warmth of pride erupts in your chest at the way his breathing has turned labored and his grip on you tightens. An arm snakes around your waist, the other under your head, pulling you impossibly tighter against him as he continues to desperately pound into you. The proud smirk you wore is wiped off your face when you feel one hand releases you and his hand trails down, eventually pressing a thumb your clit, rubbing small circles that make you moan and twitch beneath him.

You can’t even warn him before your whole body erupts. You spill over, you lose sense of where and who you are, all the while, Adam pounds into you, strokes you inside and out. You vaguely hear a sudden crash and him mumbling, thanking god that you came before him because seconds later, he’s spilling his own cum inside you with a broken wanton groan.

Adam stills for a moment, panting as he holds you close. When he rolls off you, he keeps one arm around you, pulling you against his chest. Huh. That’s new.

Neither of you say anything. That was… different, than you’re used to with him. You furrow your brows as you think, and find yourself confused. The cogs in your head turning something terrible in your mind, questioning his intentions.

Once you’ve caught your breath, you sit up, pushing away his arm as you go to find your clothes. He frowns, watching you pick your shirt up from the ground and pull it over your head. You looked guarded, like a cornered doe, like you were just waiting for the chance to sprint away.

Adam grabs his own boxers from the floor and pulls them on, quickly crossing the room to where you were. He looks down at you, and feels an odd, tightening in his chest, something he’s felt a lot since falling to hell.

He leans against the door, putting on a cocky smile.

“Soo… this was like a booty call, huh?”

“…Yeah, whatever. See ya,”

[explosionkatsu]

“Age doesn’t matter” 9

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Y/n lost consciousness as soon as Katsuki came in.

“Don’t touch my wife.” A low intense voice was unexpectedly heard in the destroyed vicinity making Kazui and the villain look for where it came from.

“Papa!” Yelled Kazui with a glint in his eyes.

Kazui left Y/n’s unconscious body and scrambles to where his father is.

As if on cue, Katsuki took a big step and seized Kazui off the ground embracing him tightly in his arms. His eyes were closed for he was glad nothing bad happened to him. But as he slowly opened them, his gaze focused on your cold body lying on the floor. Blood oozing from where you were wounded.

This sight made his gaze harden. How dare this goddamn villain hurt you.

“Papa! Please save Miss Y/n! Please!” Kazui was sobbing as he plead.

“Dynamight!” Red Riot came rushing. The view in front of them made him halt. “Y-y/n-”

“Red Riot..”

Hearing his hero's name made him awaken from his trance. His scowl deepened when he took notice of how intense Katsuki’s voice was.

Eijiro knew this tone.

“Take Kazui and Y/n,” Dynamight said handing Kazui to him.

In his mind, his goal was to keep you safe. Away from here, away from this villain. God he hoped he could retain himself back from slaughtering him. As soon as Kazui was in Red Riot’s arms, he took his second step, raising his arm to where the villain was.

“Why so quiet all of a sudden, huh?” Dynamight growled. “You were so cocky earlier.” He continued as he step again.

His eyes. His bloody red eyes were now locked on his target who was trying hard not to quiver under his intimidating gaze.

“God knows what I wanted to do with you right now. But that’ll be against the law, ain't it?” Dynamight lips gradually turn into a smirk. A deadly evil smirk. “But who says I can't torture you? Like how you did to her?”

The villain suddenly took a small step back. “N-no. You can't do that!”

“Huh? Who said that I can't?”

After his final remarks, Dynamight launched himself at the villain.

The villain was ready to attack. He was trying to form a plan on how he will increase his attack. But his mind was too preoccupied that he didn't notice the set of explosions coming his way.

“DIE!”

Was the last thing the villain heard before he could even dodge.

From outside where the teachers were watching, loud explosions were heard making them gasp both in terror and relief.

The police and ambulance finally came and start attending to those who got wounded in the attack. Luckily there are only a few. Parents started appearing as well looking for their children.

Red Riot was the first one to come out of the destroyed establishment.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. Your papa will be fine!” Red riot smiled down at Kazui who was staring at the building. “For now. Let the medics take care of you okay?”

..

Due to the set of explosions Dynamight released, he can finally see the villain lying on the floor when the smoke fades away. Half grateful that the villain was too terrified of him to even fight.

Once everything calmed down, Katsuki darted to where Y/n is. Eijiro insisted to take you with him on his way out but Katsuki was too stubborn and wanted to take you by himself.

It hurts him to see you like this. His heart was throbbing painfully as he slowly got closer to your body. Why was he feeling this way anyway? Deciding now is not the right time to think about feelings, he knelt and carefully scooped you up in his arms.

You were still breathing. That's a good sign. As much as he wanted to torture the villain out of his liking, he needed to make sure you were still alive.

“Thank you. For protecting my son.” Katsuki whispered to himself before standing up and heading out of the building.

..

The attack was announced on television as soon as you woke up. You can hear a beeping sound which signifies you were at the hospital. Boy, you were glad that you're alive. Everything suddenly flooded your mind, what happened, what you did, and how you acted. Hell even you don't know where all that came from. But you were glad you were able to help someone.

Kazui Your eyes widened. Kazui! Was he okay?! Where is he?! She needs to find him! All of these thoughts made you sit up on your hospital bed but the shooting pain in your back made you stop.

“Relax.”

Huh? Who's with you?

“You’ll hurt yourself, dumbass.”

Bakugou?

Right in front of your bed where the oh-so-handsome Bakugo was sitting. You were lucky he wasn't aware of how you like Dynamight.

Well, now that you thought about it. It's been a while since you last ogle to your favorite hero. You didn't even notice before how you both started getting closer and closer. You were too focused on Kazui.

“The doctor had to give you stitches. You got a lot of open wounds around your body.” Katsuki said not moving from his seat.

You were staring at him and you know it. Why couldn't you take your eyes away from him?

“Oi.” Katsuki scowled once he shifted his away from the tv to you. “Fuck are you staring at?”

Was it maybe because you couldn't believe that he was there with you? This is not the Dnymight stuff toy merch you bought online. It's really him.

“Tch. Did the villain smack you on your head or something?” Katsuki stood up this time and sat in the chair beside you.

Realizing you were indeed staring, you looked away embarrassed. ��S-sorry, Bakugo.” Y/n apologize.

Katsuki rolled his eyes in response though but deep down, he too, was pondering. He recalled naming you his wife which he didn't know where it came from. Why would he say that unconsciously? Did he really see you as a wife material that's why he said that. He didn't know.

"Thank you."

When you heard his words, it made you look at him with eyes wide. Did you hear him right? Did he thank you?

"I'm sorry?" Y/n blinked while keeping her eyes on him. Of course, this made her surprise. It's not always you experience a hero thank you since it's always the other way around. Especially if it's Dynamight.

"Why're you looking at me like that, hah? Are you looking down on me!?" Katsuki abruptly stood up pushing the chair he was sitting on falling.

"W-what? No." Y/n said now looking up at him. " I was just confused about why you were thanking me. What for?"

Your look was genuinely baffled to Katsuki as he stare at your face. He felt his cheeks blush barely which made him divert his face away from her.

"Don't you have any idea what you did, hah?" Katsuki said face directed away from you. When he received no response, it made him sigh.

But before he could tell her, he first arranged the chair that fell over then sat back on it. "You saved Kazui, didn't you?" He said resting both his elbows on his knees.

"I did.." Y/n responded quietly.

"And that was very fucking idiotic of you, ya know," Katsuki stated slowly leaning back.

"I know." Y/n once again responded quietly. "But as a teacher, Kazui's teacher, I have to do my job as well." Y/n paused for a moment before continuing, "I honestly didn't know where that boldness came from. When I saw Kazui cry, it hurts me. So much." As she said her thoughts, she gradually shift her gaze to Katsuki who was now looking back at her showing her he was listening.

Katsuki can see a lot of emotions in her eyes. But the one that stands out the most was fear.

"I don't want to lose Kazui. I don't want you to lose Kazui. Because I too, love him as much as you do." Y/n declared. "I do not know what came over me. I am not his mother but sometimes I wish I was." She chuckled. "But I know it is wishful thinking."

Katsuki was speechless. He didn't even expect her to say that to him so casually. Calmly perhaps. But instead of replying to what she said, he decided to just change the topic.

"The school released a statement." Katsuki started.

Maybe this might help him get to know her more.

"What is it?"

"Since the school was under construction. I heard they decided to suspend a month of teaching since they were dealing with the aftermath of the attack." Katsuki said. He listened to this on the television while you were still unconscious. "They were concerned that students might be shaken as well."

"When was this announced?" You asked.

"Earlier." Katsuki crossed his arms and looks back at you. " What I'm trying to say. No one will take care of Kazui. I can't always rely on my parents. My friends are heroes as well. Since you mentioned you used to be a babysitter. I would like to hire you."